#I am happy with the few I know that smile

[bamfkeeper]

Winter Coat.

RQ: 'Saw your requests were open and I've gone through like 99% of your works so I just HAD to toss in a request (which, absolutely take your time on btw, I completely understand the burnout that can happen at the drop of a dime). I'm so impatient when it comes to weather and seasons that I desperately need it to be chilly autumn already. I'm sure you seen it but that one post about Kurt getting fluffier during autumn/winter got my gears turning. What do you think his reaction would be to a GN reader warming their hands in his fur? (Bonus prompt if reader can somehow get past all that lovely fur and touch his skin with freezing fingers ∩ω∩)' - @casualeylee

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader // Warnings: Slightly suggestive themes

A/N: I love the idea of him growing longer fur so I enjoyed this a lot. Quick little drabble for the upcoming cool months! I have a few requests for his fur, which was sweet to see, I adore him fuzzy. I hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k

"Mein Gott, your hands are freezing, liebling," Kurt remarked with concern, his gaze settling on your hand as it awkwardly intertwined with his own. You sighed contentedly, leaning closer to him for warmth as the two of you strolled leisurely around the dying garden of the mansion. The once vibrant blooms were now succumbing to the colder weather, which was taking its toll on the plants. Yet, despite the garden's current state, you found yourself looking forward to the cold months ahead and the festive holidays they would bring.

"I know, I'm sorry," you admitted sheepishly, glancing up at him with a hint of regret. "I should've worn the mittens you told me to put on before we left..." You pouted slightly, chastising yourself for being so stubborn earlier. Kurt chuckled softly at your demeanor, his little smirk spreading warmth through you and making you shiver, though not from the cold. His amusement was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile back.

Kurt's tail gently ran under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, holding you even closer as you walked together through the chilly evening air. You couldn't help but notice how his tail felt slightly more fuzzy than usual, prompting your free hand to naturally reach out and stroke the soft fur. "Are you getting fuzzier?" you questioned with curiosity, suddenly eying his face and observing that his jaw seemed to have longer fur too, as if preparing for the colder months ahead.

"Ja, I get a thicker coat when it gets cold...you complain about my fuzz now, just wait until I have a full-on winter coat and I am shedding all over your favorite sweaters!" he laughed softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the thought of you dealing with a living room filled with his fur. The idea of him shedding more fur made you smile, envisioning the playful challenge it might bring. Even if it meant a bit of extra cleaning during the winter season.

"Your hand still feels cold, liebe," Kurt observed with concern, his eyes filled with the usual warmth as he looked down at you. Gently, he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I think our walk is done...you are going to freeze out here if we stay any longer," he stated with a hint of urgency in his voice. Not wanting you to endure the cold any further, he effortlessly teleported you both inside the expansive mansion, determined to stop your shivering.

Now, you found yourself comfortably seated on the plush couch in your shared bedroom. The luxurious room was spacious, adorned with elegant furnishings, and boasted a charming small fireplace that crackled softly. Only the older X-Men were privileged enough to have a room this nice, making you feel incredibly lucky, especially when you were currently shaking off the cold. As you sat in front of the gently flickering fire, its warmth slowly seeping into your chilled bones, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of happiness.

Kurt teleported back into the room with a soft purple haze enveloping him, his tail flicked away any remaining cloud as he walked over to you. He gently sat down beside you on the couch, causing the blanket that was draped around your shoulders to slip slightly as he made himself comfortable. He placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate on the small table beside the couch, its warmth and aroma inviting. “I made it just how you like.” Kurt noted and left it to cool off for a minute. You gave him a soft smile at the gesture, he always knew what to do to make you feel loved. He always went above what he needed to do, and that was one of the things you loved about him.

Kurt leaned back and went to wrap his arm around you, intending on pulling you closer to him to offer extra warmth to you before he paused. "Oh," he remarked thoughtfully, humming to himself and leaning back a bit to look at you, "Skin on fur might help..." With a slight shuffle, he began to remove his top, revealing his abdomen and chest. As he did so, you noticed that his skin had also grown more fuzzy.

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of curiosity and admiration as you couldn't help yourself from eying his chest and abdomen. He stood before you, his attractive physique lean and toned, each muscle defined under the light from the fireplace. The fur that covered his body looked incredibly soft, inviting, you needed to have your hands on him. It was impossible to ignore the magnetic pull you felt towards his body at that moment. “Ah…you are growing a lot more already,” you rasped, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with an undertone of need. With a sense of awe and hesitancy, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they made contact with his warm skin. Slowly, you let your hand trail up, starting from his belly button and moving upwards to his chest.

You swallowed nervously, feeling the firm and defined muscles beneath his soft fur, and as you did, you began to have some difficulty controlling your thoughts, which started to wander in unexpected directions. Kurt laid his hand gently over yours as you felt the warmth of his chest, his intense yellow eyes fixed on you with a playful grin. “Naughty…I know what you’re thinking. You always get this look in your eye…sinner,” he said with a teasing tone, his voice low and playful. His words and the cheeky way he spoke made your face heat up even more, feeling more flustered since you were practically feeling him up.

"Shut up...your fur is really warm on my hands...that's all." You muttered embarrassingly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands continuing to slowly rub his chest and feel the fur there. It was so incredibly soft, the longer bits curled around your skin, inviting your nosy fingertips to dig even farther into his fur, seeking more warmth and comfort in every stroke.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked with a slight smirk, sitting still as you explored him with that stupid grin, allowing you to continue your gentle exploration. He opened his mouth for another teasing comment, but his breath hitched quickly as your freezing fingers unexpectedly found their way to his skin. "Ach...- Liebling..." he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and endearment.

"What? Did I find something?" you asked with a mischievous grin, your turn to be cheeky now. You intentionally let your fingers wander over his skin, which was so incredibly, so wonderfully warm. With a playful determination, you weaseled your hands against his skin, feeling the contrast of your cool touch against his heat. Snuggling even closer to him, you couldn't help but smile as Kurt laughed and squirmed a little from the unexpected cold sensation of your fingers dancing across his body.

"The things I let you do to me..." he huffed, though there was a fondness in his voice, as he held you even closer to him. His arms and tail wrapped securely around your body, pulling you into a protective and affectionate embrace. While he often teases you relentlessly, it's always in good fun, because at the end of the day, he truly loves you. He is more than willing to suffer through the icy touch of your fingertips against his warm, sensitive, ticklish skin, as long as it brings a smile to your face and you enjoy every moment of it.

"Ach! Liebe!" he exclaimed, jerking up slightly in surprise as you playfully moved your fingertips to the sensitive sides of his ribcage. His reaction was both amusing and endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle at how it caught him off guard.

He looked down with a soft, affectionate smile, acknowledging your mischievousness with a twinkle in his eyes. "Cheeky thing..."

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover image: Nick Robles art credit, other images Pinterest.

[coco-loco-nut]

007 - part two

pairing: oscar x reader

summary: maybe a soulmate isn’t the worst thing to happen to you

masterlist part one part three requests open

——————

Oscar sent you a text that night. He was a little disappointed when it took you a couple days to reply, but that was quickly made up when you sent a time and location. The mystery around you is thrilling to him.

You wait in the corner of a cafe for Oscar, sipping a flat white. Your eyes immediately find him when he walks in, locked in on him. He quickly orders and makes his way to you. Oscar barely gets in a hello before you get down to business.

“I need you to know something before anything happens. I live a very dangerous life and I don’t plan on stepping away any time soon,” you leave certain things unsaid, like the very real chances of you dying. “It’s hard for the soulmates of those in my line of work. Suddenly the danger meter means more to them, and it can disrupt their lives,” you lean forward a little, subtly emphasizing how important it is.

“I’m a Formula One driver, I am familiar with the risk of dying. I know the risks associated with being your soulmate,” Oscar says and you bite back a remark about his job still being safer than yours. You need to try and be less standoffish.

“Right. Well, I can’t say that I know how to proceed with this. I’m a bit new to the whole thing,” you are a little embarrassed.

“I am too. We can handle it together,” Oscar smiles. He wants to reach across the table to hold your hand, but he doesn’t want to push it so he sips his coffee. “Tell me more about you, all I know is that you do a really dangerous job,” Oscar prompts you.

“Bold statement coming from someone who also has a really dangerous job. I really enjoy traveling, dislike paperwork. When I’m not working, I like reading or taking small trips. Um, I have a cat who is the light of my life,” you pause as Oscar lets out a laugh. “Tell me more about you, more than what your background check tells me,” Oscar sees the playful glimmer in your eye.

“Well, I’ve been getting into cricket and basketball. When I was a kid, I went through this phase where I thought I was a car,” Oscar admits.

“I would always sneak around as a kid, acting like a spy. I guess both of our childhood fantasies worked out,” you hide your bittersweet feelings. Oscar notices but doesn’t push it.

“So I guess you would be the Holly Shiftwell to my Lightning McQueen,” Oscar tries to bring up your mood but you give him confused look.

“But they were never romantic partners?” you say, a little confused with how happy Oscar looks. He’s just happy you have seen the movies and seem to like them enough.

“Semantics. What are you doing now that you aren’t chasing down criminals in the paddock?”

“You mean your soulmate? I’m being forced to take a break from missions right now. Apparently I’ve been hogging all the action and need to help in HQ for a few months,” your distaste for the orders is clear on your face.

“You can join me at a race. If you want to,”

“Really? I don’t want to be a distraction and I don’t know anything about Formula One,” you hesitate, not wanting to impose.

“I want you there. Who better to teach you the sport than me?” Oscar reassures you.

“Well, I guess I will have to take you up on it,” you take the little leap of faith. It’s not something you would normally do. But your soulmate is worth it… right?

You and Oscar agree to a race that is around a month later, giving you time to get to know each other and for him to teach you different aspects of the sport. The month still doesn’t seem to be enough as you arrive at your first race as his soulmate.

“Hey,” Oscar pulls you into a hug as you stand at his hotel room door. He presses a kiss to your forehead before taking your bag as you walk in.

“How was media?” you ask, making yourself comfortable on the bed beside him. It’s clear that he hastily straightened up the room when he got back from free practice.

“Boring, I was counting down the minutes until you got here,” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you hum in response. You relax into his warmth, taking in the familiar scent that you’ve found comfort in.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of the office too,” you admit a few moments later. You left a little early to catch a flight here for the weekend.

“Still stuck on paperwork? I must admit, it’s nice not having your danger meter spike,” Oscar murmurs, a little sleepy.

“What’s on your mind?” Oscar observes your distant look when you don’t immediately reply, having learned how to read you more.

“What would you say if I left my job?” you say quietly, almost a whisper. Oscar sits up, needing to properly look at you.

“I’d be a little confused because you love it, but ultimately it’s your choice,” Oscar says, silently asking you to elaborate.

“Well, as soon as someone finds out who I am my cover is blown, putting both of us at risk. It’s a lonely life, and when it was only Boots and me that was okay, but I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you admit, not expecting to feel emotional about it.

“I’ll support you either way, but I don’t want you to quit just for me. What would you do if you left?” he asks, feeling a little guilty.

“The longer I stay in action, the more dangerous my missions will be. Most of mine before didn’t interact with targets, but things will get more dangerous from here. It’s what I’ve worked for my whole life. As for what I would do if I left…” you pause for a second, letting Oscar absorb everything. “Well, your security is seriously lacking, and as your soulmate I think I should do something about that. I was also offered a higher up position that would take me out of action for good,”

“Having my own personal security guard who is also my soulmate? That could be dangerous,” somehow you don’t think Oscar means the kind of danger that would raise your meters.

“Oscar!” Your cheeks flush as you bite back a laugh, acting scandalized. “Alright, I’m going to shower before bed,” you slide out of his arms, looking back at him, knowing what he is about to suggest. “No, you can’t join,” you laugh as he pouts. You two aren’t there yet, but he is proud at how comfortable you are around him.

Oscar leaves early in the morning for free practice, promising to meet you at the gates when you arrive for qualifying. You happily take the extra time to sleep.

Qualifying is your test run. You get a feel for the team and race environment while keeping a low profile. Arriving for the race is a different thing.

“Ready?” Oscar asks as he parks at the circuit. He looks so cozy in his hoodie, and to be fair, you woke him up half an hour before having to leave.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you nervously smile. You are never nervous, but this is different. You are dressed fashionably, but nothing that makes you stand out too much. Your dark sunglasses help hide some of your features as you walk in on Oscars arm. You both look happy as you walk in, and the media notices.

“Oscar!” Logan calls him over, you recognize the American from your initial background check.

“Hey. This is my soulmate, Y/n. Y/n, this is my best friend, Logan,” Oscar introduces both of you.

“Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you,” you hug Logan, taking him by surprise.

“Aww, you talk about me?” Logan coos at Oscar.

“You came up in her background check on me,” Oscar says causing Logan to let go of your hug.

“Weird, but I like it. We are going to be great friends, Leiter and Bond,” Logan rolls with it. He remembers the first time Oscar mentioned you and that’s enough for him.

“You are a sexier James Bond, license to kill and all,” Oscar chimes in, trying to flirt and joke at the same time.

“Oh baby, no. That is nothing like what we do,” you accidentally slip up, and Logan’s eyes widen.

“I thought you were joking. I will keep this to myself though. That’s so cool. Can we watch those movies together?” Logan quickly says, not wanting you to worry. Your initial coolness that Oscar described to him over the past month makes more sense to him now.

“We should get going, I don’t want Zak and Andrea to get mad,” Oscar says, leading both of you away.

“This is the McLaren motorhome, you are welcome to sit in the drivers lounge or in my room while I am in the meeting. Afterwards, I can introduce you to Charles and his girlfriend,” Oscar offers as you look around.

“They should have better security here,” you tut, looking at all the different ways you could easily get in.

“Don’t worry, other teams aren’t coming in and stealing our secrets,” Oscar kisses the side of your head as he leads you upstairs to his drivers room.

“I could always do some recon,” you slyly smile, anything to help him win.

“That’s okay, I don’t need that to win. I have you motivating me,” he smiles, one which falters as a man with brown curly hair comes barreling towards you.

“OSCAR! Is this her? Hi, I’m Lando,” the man, Lando, says, extending his hand.

“Y/n,” you coolly reply, defenses going up as he pulls you into a hug once you take his hand. Oscar can tell you are uncomfortable, Lando springing himself on you.

“Let me help her get settled and I will be down,” Oscar says, cueing Lando to go to the meeting without him. “You are going to look Lando up, aren’t you?” he asks with an amused smile once you are in the safety of his room.

“Yeah, get ready for all his dirty laundry to be aired,” you lightly laugh.

“I look forward to it. I need more blackmail on him. I’ll see you soon, this meeting won’t take long,” Oscar promises, leaving you alone. You spend the half hour he is away looking up his teammate and some other drivers.

“Did I do something wrong?” Lando asks Oscar on their way back to the drivers rooms.

“No, she just wasn’t expecting you. Y/n is pretty guarded around new people, it stems from her job. She will warm up to you,” Oscar replies, not wanting his teammate and soulmate to hate each other.

“Does she work for the government or something?” Lando jokes, a little too accurate.

“Or something, don’t worry about it,” Oscar says, excited to see you again. You wait at the door for Oscar.

“For a professional driver, you have a lot of traffic violations,” you tell Lando, who notices the amused glimmer in your eye and relaxes. Whatever you did during the meeting seems to have worked.

“I have the need for speed,” Lando smiles, happy that you’ve warmed up a little. “Wait, how did you-“

“Don’t worry about it, we will see you later,” Oscar cuts him off, taking you to Ferrari.

“So, Charles is your fake adoptive dad? He has a fairly clean record, I couldn’t find much on him,” you comb over what you learned in your mind.

“Oh, Max is going to love you. You both have cats and you could prep him for whoever he is meeting with,” Oscar laughs, glad that you are taking the time to know his coworkers even if it isn’t the traditional route.

“Max Verstappen? I don’t usually do hits, but I will take out his father for free if he wants,” the way you say it so casually causes Oscar to almost choke.

“I will let him know,” he says, a little unsure how one replies to that.

You are quick to befriend Charles and Alexandra, the latter offers for you to join her while watching the race. You politely decline, but promise to join another race. Oscar takes you around to some other drivers, including Max, before introducing you to more people at McLaren.

You settle into the garage as the race starts, nervous as you watch Oscar on a small screen. You are aware of cameras that are pointed at you, but you ignore them. They don’t know you, all they can do is speculate.

The race is going smoothly until lap 37. Oscar is fighting for position when you fell the sickening twinge of the meter on your arm increasing. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you listen to the team radio, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Carlos and Oscar made contact which at minimum punctured Oscar’s tires. You hear his frustration, but you are just glad that’s all it was.

“Check the front wing too,” you hear him say after confirming he’s okay. He makes it back to the garage safely due to the incident being close to pit lane, but they retire his car due to other damage. Oscar seems too calm to you as he exits the car. Even you would show more emotion in that scenario.

Oscar’s eyes meet yours and before you know it, you are on your feet walking to him. He wraps you in a hug and you gently rub his back. You hold each other for a minute, taking a moment ground each other.

“You okay?” you practically yell over the noise and he just nods, guiding you out of the garage.

“That’s not the win I wanted to give you,” Oscar sighs as you walk back to his room after he gets weighed.

“I hope I’m not bad luck,”

“Never. You are good luck, that should’ve been worse than it was,” Oscar reassures you. A small part of him is happy to be spending time with you.

“I’m sorry your race ended like that, you were driving so well,” you frown, as Oscar squeezes your hand.

“Nothing I can do now, next race is a new opportunity. I have to go do media, do you want to watch the rest in McLaren?” Oscar asks, wanting to know where to find you later.

“I’ll go to Ferrari and watch with Alexandra,” you decide, needing to have friends around here. Oscar nods, leading you to your new friend. He kisses you goodbye before you walk in.

“Hey, are you okay? Those are scary, no matter how minor,” Alexandra greets you when she notices you.

“Yeah. Osc is fine, I’m just upset for him,” you shrug. You’ve seen your partners in danger on missions, but this is a whole different ballgame.

“Grab a seat, want a coffee?” she asks, making sure you are comfortable.

“No, but maybe you can teach me better than Oscar,” you watch her face light up as she immediately dives into sharing her knowledge, explaining everything to you as it happens.

“Come and meet some of the others. Oscar will be pulled into meetings,” Alexandra says, pulling you away from Ferrari.

“Shouldn’t you be with Charles? He must be looking for you,”

“He can wait,” Alexandra waves your concern off as you galavant around the paddock.

Your great experience with the WAGs further conflicted you if you wanted to stay or leave your job. And it all came to a head when you were brought in on an emergency mission once you returned from your weekend away.

This might be your most dangerous recon mission yet. Your part is simple on paper, get in, copy the digital files, get out. It wasn’t simple in execution.

You just skimmed the files, getting crucial information that will stop the operation. Now for the hard part - getting out and getting away.

You slip out of the room, when you hear footsteps getting closer and closer. Just like the stereotype, you slide around a corner and hold your breath, praying they don’t turn your way. They are so close you can feel their body heat beside you. You focus on remaining calm, but this is the most on edge you’ve ever been. You close your eyes as you feel your stomach drop.

This is it. You can see Oscar’s face as he opens his driver room door, two agents standing outside. The agents are solemn as they deliver the news - you were captured and killed on a mission. Every word, every moment is played perfectly in your mind. And your cat, Oscar will have to take care of Boots, a constant reminder of you.

Oscar sits in his post FP2 meeting when it happens, feeling the sickening feeling of your danger meter telling him you were in danger. After it being normal for the past few days, his stomach drops at how high it is.

“I need five,” Oscar runs out like he’s about to puke. You promised in your hastily written letter that you’d try to be safe, but all you really said that you had to leave, couldn’t take your phone, and it was an emergency. He naively thought that you wouldn’t be in the field, that you were just needed on the sidelines. He wasn’t completely wrong, you helped from the side for everything but your part in the operation.

“Oscar? Hey, are you okay?” Lando asks, walking into the room where Oscar disappeared to.

“I- I don’t know,” Oscar looks at his arm, silently pleading for the meter to go down. Lando sees it and just sits beside Oscar.

“Wanna talk about it?” Lando says after a few seconds of silence.

“She left a few days ago with only a note and her cell phone behind. Got an emergency call while I was out. Poor Boots, he must miss his mom. And I know she’s not abandoning me, but I think I finally know how my mom feels about my career,” Oscar says after a minute.

“I assume she’s in the military, or like, a detective to be in danger, and that’s pretty badass of her. I know she came off as cold initially to a lot of us, except when she’s with you and some of the girls, but I can tell that she really likes you. And she seems like she holds her own,” Lando starts listing everything he likes about you from the couple interactions you had during the race day. It helps distract Oscar, calming him little by little.

You step around the corner as soon as the voices fade and come face to face with a security guard. You quickly land a few punches, knocking him out. In the moment you are grateful for your disguise and the cameras that are currently disabled thanks to your team. As you quickly exit the building, you notice another guard tailing you. You quickly get into your getaway car, turning it on and pressing the throttle. It lurches under you, making a hasty exit as they chase you.

Glances in the rear view mirror tell you that you aren’t out of the woods yet. You send a small prayer that Oscar’s talent will be enough as you speed down the street. The car just isn’t fast enough, you are being hunted and the hunter keeps creeping closer and closer. Once again you hope your luck hasn’t run out as you will the car to go just a little faster.

Lando stays seated beside Oscar, trying not to stare at the meter on his teammates arm. He watches the tears run down Oscar’s face as the meter creeps higher, higher, then drops.

[writerunnamed]

note: This is something I've wanted to write for a while but I am well aware that not everyone will be into it. There are a few stories I want to tell that aren't the norm so I decided to start this nameless blog to tell them. I am not tagging anyone, if you find it then you find it. xo Joel(stepdad), significant age gap, female reader. 18+ legal, reader is 20 (warnings: pov sex, Joel spits on the 😸, boobie play, really inappropriate dirty talk, an unused sex toy [will make an appearance in another chapter], female masturbation, daddy kink, unfit parent) 5.6k word count

He takes up so much space, and it wasn’t just physically. He took up space emotionally, mentally. Mentally most of all. Your thoughts always drifted back to him. Cyclical. An elliptical pattern making him the top of every list you’d go through in your head. He seemed to know it too, in a stoic, quiet, largely unsettling way. Older, attractive men tended to do that. 

It started during that in-between time, when summer, losing your job, and having to move back home pushed you to figure out what the fuck you actually wanted to do with your life seemed to come together like the planets aligning. The precipice of a turning point, a ticking clock counting down the days until your childhood bedroom would be turned into a gym, or an office, or a guest bedroom. The lukewarm welcome from your mother would ice over and you’d really have to get your shit together. 

Your mother was what people who didn’t know her would call ‘a free spirit’, what you called her, was a fucking mess. 

Your earliest memories consist of having to remind her to buy milk or to pay the bill because the electricity had turned off while watching cartoons in front of the tiny, living room tv. You’d had to remind her, in not so many words, that she was the mother, and you were the child. 

To your friends, she was the cool mom. The party mom. Your house was the place to be because she didn’t ask questions, she left her cigarettes unattended and didn’t mind if a few went missing. She kept the bar cart stocked, even if there was nothing but flies in the cupboard and nothing but half-empty condiment bottles in the fridge. Your friends loved it. 

She flirted with the boys your age, she gave sex tips to the girls. 

You smiled when they congratulated you on having the cool mom, and when they all went home, you retreated and pretended to be happy. 

Joel settled her down. Met her in a bar and moved in quick. He came into the picture when you were fifteen and you were almost sure he’d be just like the rest of the lovers she’d taken over the years. You’d given the whole thing six months. Half a year for him to see what a fucking disaster she was. Six months to be a fucking creep, to cheat or get cheated on. 

The only differences you could clock at first were that he was self-employed, and marginally better looking than his predecessors.

He was firmer though, less malleable than the others she’d brought around, he seemed immune to her charms and that only inflamed her. It made her desperate for his approval and his attention. She would throw a tantrum, or play one of her mind games but he’d never rise to her bait. He was patient for the most part, until he hit his breaking point and his temper reared its head. A temper only she seemed to bring out in him. 

To you, it was pathetic. 

He didn’t try with you though, there was no flattery or strong hand, only a silent respect. In a sense, he treated you as the adult, and her as the child. It worked for you, if he’d expected you to call him dad he would have been laughed at mercilessly and he seemed to know this. 

The disturbing part was his respect and his healthy avoidance of you worked its own kind of magic. It made him an enigma, made you curious as to what he got out of the whole thing. A home, sure. A woman who was obsessed with him, yes. Sex–yes. You heard it enough for it to turn your stomach. By the sounds of it, he knew what he was doing.

The thought sickened the healthy part of your brain. The other part though, the part flooding your body with hormones, making it come to life with curiously intense sexual feelings, that part wanted to know what it was he was so good at. How could he pull those sounds out of anyone? It was easier to imagine him with some faceless woman. 

It was shameful to imagine yourself. 

The thought–although enough to fuel a desperate journey of self-exploration–always filled you with an insurmountable guilt. 

For those first few years you could barely look at him. Your mother took it as a healthy dose of teenage rebellion. That only aggravated you more. She never asked questions, never dug to see what the cause of your obvious distaste for her partner was about and so again, you retreated. He, however, kept to the outs of your path. He followed your lead, he let you control any and every part of all of your interactions. He didn’t ask questions. He kept the lights on. He kept the fridge full. 

He burrowed his way in, whether you liked it or not. 

When you turned eighteen, you moved out. He helped, did his ‘fatherly’ duties and moved you into the apartment, he urged your mother to take you on an extensive grocery trip, spoke to your landlord about the safety of the building. You supposed you should have been grateful, you should have said thank you, given him some sort of acknowledgement that you appreciated his help but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you said your mumbling goodbyes, and promptly closed the door on them. Neither of them complained. 

The euphoria of venturing out on your own had lost its shine depressingly quick. A string of chronically unserious boyfriends came and went, the rent climbed higher than you could keep up with, and while already living paycheck to paycheck, you lost your job. Your cellphone had taken the brunt of your frustration at having to call your mother, begging her to let you come back home while you got back on your feet a little more than two years after you’d left. 

Your teeth gnawed at your lips, your fingernails dug into the skin around your cuticles in the attempt to keep your voice sweet and pleading, in the end it was his voice that you’d heard in the background, telling–no, commanding her to say yes. That he would be your champion twisted at your insides. Maybe a small, healthy part of you hoped he’d put up a fight, tell you that you were too old to be coming back home and that you had to figure it out on your own like an adult. 

A healthy part of you hoped that he’d save you again, only from yourself. Hanging up with a heavy, resigned sigh, you set about starting the trek home, ignoring the swirling mess of annoyance, confusion, and perverse glee in your stomach. 

-

The first few days were spent in a depressive episode, a seemingly inescapable loop of sleeping in late, leaving your room only when the house was empty to raid the kitchen for something to eat, scrolling mindlessly–blindly–on your phone and then staying up way too late only to do it all over again. 

They didn’t bother you, but if the annoyed sighs and narrowed eyes from your mother were anything to go by, the talk was coming soon. After the third day of the cycle, you circumvent it and wake up early-ish to shower and dress in something other than ratty old sweats long forgotten by an ex you couldn’t quite remember. 

You came down to find Joel sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes tracked the lines of you, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

Your heart leapt. He should have been at work by now. 

“Good morning.” It came out croaky, your voice almost reluctant to come out. 

“Mornin’.” His hair was slicked back, the gray almost sparkling in the golden light. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His eyes were so intense, you found yourself stuck in place, like a deer in headlights and that ever present, deep-seeded anger reared its head. It was irrational that he should frustrate you so much with his calm presence. 

“Coffee’s fresh, if you want some.” He jut his chin out to the pot, lowering his eyes to his paper once more. Once his gaze had shifted, you found you could breathe again. You mumbled a thanks and moved to pour yourself a cup, thankful, if unsure why, to focus on something concrete instead of abstract self-reflection.

“Your mama’s gon’ be late tonight. I thought I could pick up a pizza on the way home.” He says it offhand and again, your heart races. 

“Whatever.” You scrunch your face up in annoyance, it sounded like such a bullshit, teen response. He doesn’t comment on it, and that somehow makes it worse. You beat yourself about it as you root around in the fridge for the milk. The cereal you liked was in the top cupboard, and you’re not quite tall enough to reach it. 

You heard his chair scoot back and then suddenly he’s there, beside you, pressed up tight. You follow the long line of his throat as he stares up, reaching the box with ease while one big, warm hand lands on your lower back. He smells like the laundry detergent your mother insists on buying mixed with something else. Manly, smoky, with coffee laced through. Your cunt clenches nonconsensually as he stands there and stares down at you, his whole front pressed against your side, his hand still holding your lower back. Your mouth hangs open, stupidly, and he raises an eyebrow again forcing something to kickstart deep in your gut. 

“You okay there babygirl?” The endearment feels unwholesome.

It triggers something strange, strengthening the underlying conflict for him. There’s a lilt in his tone you don’t like, maybe because deep down you like it too much. Maybe you don’t want to admit that, or analyze anything about what the fuck is happening in your body. In your psyche. 

“Yeah.” You step out of his bubble, barely managing not to trip over yourself in your haste to get away and put a healthy distance between you. 

“Yes. Thank you.” You take a deep breath, pressing your lips together tight in what you hope to God is a neutral expression. 

He lets out a bemused huff through his nose, a mischief in his eyes shining out at you that you’ve never seen directed at you. You’ve seen it used on your mom. You’ve seen her go giggly and flirty whenever he looked at her like that. A half-formed escape plan starts to form but he saves you from the need, he puts his things in the dishwasher, and nods his head in goodbye. 

You practically hold your breath until you hear his truck rumble out of the driveway, and down the street. 

-

You manage to avoid him for a few days, staying out late catching up with friends, or feigning a need for rest. You’ve convinced your mother that your days are now spent job hunting, and for the most part they are. You leave in the morning, avoiding any and all contact and you get home late, creeping up the stairs much like you did in your teens even though you’d really never needed to. Your mother never enforced a curfew, and when Joel joined the picture, he didn’t pry. 

The luck didn’t last though, you got over-confident. He was sprawled out on the sofa, up uncharacteristically late one night when you padded through the house. 

“You’re up late.” You quickly check the accusatory tone, “Don’t you have to get up early?” Better, it comes out more concerned than annoyed and he nods. He wore a threadbare t-shirt, the fabric of it having been through the wash too many times to keep its shape. Light, gray sweats were stretched almost obscenely tight over his spread thighs, pooling at his crotch from being shoved up by the couch. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Come sit, we can watch some tv.” He pats the seat next to him and despite the deep desire to retreat into the Joel-free haven of your bedroom, you cannot seem to disobey him. 

You settle beside him on the couch, a little further away than was necessary. He chuckles softly. 

“I ain’t gonna bite you, girl. Not unless you ask nicely.” 

You pretend you don’t hear it, choosing instead to compartmentalize whatever game he’s playing and stare at the screen. He flips through the channels, settling on one thing for a few minutes before moving to something else until he finds a movie that’s already close to midway. There’s an electricity in the air, something about him galvanizing the space between you, charging it enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end. You frown to yourself, barely paying attention while fighting an increasingly confusing mental battle. Why is it so hard to be around him? Why does he inspire such scorn? Is it scorn at all?

You rub at your eyes, scrubbing your hands down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe the slate clean. 

He’s just a man, a man your mother had chosen and for better or worse they seem to work. She is happy with him and he is seemingly happy with her, why then is it so hard to accept him for what he is? Something slithers around in your brain, something that laughs darkly, something pulsing through the network of thoughts and ideas that threatens to crack open your subconscious and throw it right in your face. 

“Well now, ain’t that somethin’?” You pull your hands away from your face to see a very explicit scene playing out on the screen. Heat floods every inch of your body. 

“Almost looks like she’s enjoyin’ herself.” He leaves it on, and you feel stuck, your body betraying you yet again to see the way the woman on screen moans wantonly while under a very handsome man. You let out a non-committal sound, teetering on the edge of madness. You scold yourself, you are an adult, an adult that has had sex before and this isn’t even real. 

“Looks like fake bullshit to me.” The strength in your voice lends credence to the illusion that you aren’t affected. He laughs, calm and completely at ease and that only pulls the anger to the forefront again. 

“They can’t show the real stuff on these channels. If it were real, he’d be doin’ what she needs.” 

“And what’s that?” It comes out before you can stop it. 

“Well,” He smiles to himself, winning a duel you hadn’t even known you were fighting. 

“If it were real, he’d be pressin’ on her clit, he’d be makin’ sure she felt every inch of him and make her take his cock like a good girl.” You let out a heavy breath, half shocked, half grateful it wasn’t a whimper. 

Warning bells go off in your head, just as a heartbeat starts in your cunt because you can see it. You can see him. His face twisted up in pleasure but cocky, his hips moving, his thumb dipped into your mouth and then swirling around your clit. He smiles at catching you looking at his hands and you want to yell at him. You want to smack him across the face and kick him in the balls for saying something like that to you, his partner's daughter, but you don’t. 

Your body almost catapults you out of your seat. Barely unintelligible words come out, something about needing sleep, about being tired and then you hightailed it out of there like a bat out of hell. 

The shower was cold enough to make your teeth chatter, but it did nothing to cool the heat blooming in your core and it was with a terrifying desperation that you ground against your fingers. The slick pooling at the mouth of your pussy was enough to feel even with the water washing everything away except your shame. 

You bit your tongue to keep from moaning out the taboo and entirely inappropriate name you were dying to say out loud. His firm thighs spread on that couch filled your mind, the calloused, work-roughened hands you could practically feel on your hips, on your thighs. You could feel them holding and spreading your legs open so he could make you make those same noises you’d heard over the years. Make you take it like a good girl, his good girl. 

You came with a shudder, sagging against the chilly tile. You warmed the water with a sigh, disappointed and ashamed with yourself, trying, and failing, to put the whole thing out of your mind. 

-

You doubled down on avoiding him after that. 

Your mother worked most of the time but when she was home, things were easier. He reverted to the healthy avoidance, the proverbial disinterest that she didn’t seem to have a problem with. You still heard them some nights, the bed creaking, throaty cries, deep grunts but now they haunted you in a different way. Now you heard his words on that couch and couldn’t help but picture all manner of unsavory things that both disgusted and thrilled you. 

Being unemployed didn’t help. There was nothing to keep you out of the house most of the day, and there were only so many places that would accept you looking for a job in person. 

There was only so much time you could spend with friends too, they had their own lives and jobs and relationships. Too busy to save you from unwanted free time. 

Old habits resurface, and you retreat within yourself while pushing yourself harder. A job would fix things enough to help, you could save up enough money to leave for good and take yourself out of the equation. 

-

The powers that be momentarily take pity on you, and after what seems like a lifetime's worth of job hunting you blessedly get a call back. It’s a part time job, but at this point beggars can’t exactly be choosers. It’s a steady, if insufficient source of income that hadn’t been available to you before. Determined, you buckle down, you channel every guidance counselor you’ve ever had and ace the fuck out of that interview.

It’s not taxing work, but you put your head down and focus with the hope that if you worked hard enough, if you made a good enough impression, made yourself indispensable they’d throw you enough shifts to make up a full time job. 

It helps. Time spent away from the house, from your mothers dried up welcome, from Joel altogether genuinely helps. You feel a bit lighter, less guilty, less prone to imagine the unimaginable. You find comfort in the absence of self-imposed temptation. There is peace in the mindless work, in the life outside of the house that no longer feels like a home. 

It's a double edged sword though, because at the end of every shift, the luck–the peace–runs out. If being at work and out of the house is a respite, returning home only thickens the tension. Time spent outside the house only sharpens the discomfort, clarifies the glaring wrongness of it all when you enter it at the end of the day. What it all is, you won’t name. That way madness lies. Issue is, with every interaction, with every chance encounter in the hallway, or living room, every second spent with him in the kitchen watching his lips touch the rim of his mug the thing inside grows. Parts of him fill the corners of your mind. The curve of his shoulders filling out the flannel shirts he favors. The fullness of his bottom lip when he purses them, something he does while squinting at the paper that you’re almost sure he isn’t aware of. His neck, his hands, the dimple in his cheek when he laughs at something really funny. 

These things jump out, innocent as they may be, but other not so innocent things start to creep in. The bulge in his jeans is a mental mine, it lies in wait and every so often when you think you’ve avoided it, it detonates and you catch yourself staring, both ashamed and so inappropriately curious it eats away at you like acid. 

What you needed was something to fill the emptiness, both emotionally and physically. So you did what any modern, adult woman would do; you bought a sex toy. 

Nothing too crazy, or expensive. After perusing the site for a while you finally settled on a plain, non-threatening dildo. Nothing too big, nothing noisy, just something to be able to focus on, something to use while imagining someone giving you what you need. You ignored that dark thing inside that hissed his name, shooed it away and ordered the package for express delivery. With your mom constantly working, and Joel keeping to himself you figured it wouldn’t be an issue. Neither of them would question a package addressed to you. 

You still aren’t sure whether or not you’d do it all over again had you known the Pandora’s box that little package would open. 

You all but rushed home after work. All day, you’d imagined the relief that toy would bring. You imagined yourself using it in the shower, steam swirling as you took your pleasure. You imagined yourself laying in bed in the safety of the dark, setting a towel down on your chair and riding it to your heart's content. 

Joel’s truck is in the driveway when you pull in, but it’s secondary to the excitement at the chance to sequester yourself with your new best friend and so when you walk into the house, you don’t give him much attention. Until he opens his mouth. 

“You got a package today babygirl. I put it on your bed.” He sits on his spot on the sofa, a funny little smile on his face. A bad feeling swells in your chest, and you look up the stairs before meeting his eyes again. 

“Thanks.” You drop your bag on the little bench near the front door, trying, and failing to keep the nervous feeling out of your voice. He nods, and you make your way up, stopping yourself from taking the stairs two at a time. 

Ice flows through your veins when you see the package is open. 

He’d opened your package, he knew what you’d bought. 

Blood pounds in your ears as you stand there, limbs cold and numb at the realization that he saw it. He saw it. He opened it, and he placed it here, on the very place you fantasized about using it. Sweat beaded on your brow, the bottom of your stomach fell out of your ass as you stood there, barely feeling the soft, worn carpet under your feet. 

“Little small, f’you ask me.” His voice at the mouth of your room made your head twist fast enough to hurt your neck. You hadn’t heard him follow you up the stairs, hadn’t heard him open your door and lean against the frame, arms crossed in haughty amusement. 

“Why would you open my package?” You clutched at it, as though he could forget what he’d seen if you held it tightly enough. 

“I didn’t open it on purpose, I’m expectin’ somethin’ and I didn’t read the name.” He pushes away from the door frame, making his way closer and it’s like the air thins as the space between you shrinks.

“I mean, I could tell you been frustrated, but this doesn’t seem like it’s gon’ help much.” He reaches out, and takes the package from you. You watch him do it, watch him, frozen as he plucks it from your hands and takes the toy out. 

“This all you can take?” He holds it, contemptuously–pityingly. 

You wanted to snatch it out of his hands, the dimming voice of reason urges you to push him out of your room and remind him that he needs to keep a healthy distance but you say nothing, you stand there, and watch him. He puts it all down on your dresser, before stepping a little closer, close enough for you to have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes. 

“No boyfriends around to give you what you want?” His hand comes up, the tips of his fingers sliding across the apple of your cheek, slipping down until his thumb pressed against the cushion of your bottom lip. 

“No one around to give you what you obviously need?” He steps a little closer, until your bodies meet. This is wrong, your mind screams it but your body is frozen under his eyes, under his touch. That part, the frozen part is cheering, it’s running victory laps as it floods your cunt with slick in preparation for something unholy. 

That same, writhing, traitorous thing whispers that this is your chance, the house is empty and your body obeys. You look your fill, you take in the curve of his nose and the furrow in his brow. His eyes are black as a crow's wing, lust-blown and completely focused on your parted lips and your shallow panting. 

Adrenaline spikes and you do something you cannot take back. You rise on your tip-toes and press your mouth to his. 

He hums into it, smiling and once again you get that feeling that you’d made the exact move he’d expected you to. A vague, but fleeting inkling that you were just a pawn on his chessboard. 

At any other time you would have stepped away and repented, ate yourself alive with guilt but his hands pulled you closer, his tongue swiped at the seam of your mouth and you opened up for him. That only made it all the more real, the taste of his tongue in your mouth, feeling his hands lower to hold onto your ass. 

The rational part of you shrinks down to nothing, and that other part, the wrong part–it swells and preens under his hands. He pulls away, and embarrassingly, you chase his mouth in a daze. 

“Oh honey, you’re just dyin’ for it aren’t you?” He herds you towards your tiny bed, the twin mattress that has been the stage for every taboo fantasy about this man, your stepfather. You shoo the word away with a shiver. 

“It’s wrong-” You almost whisper, but you don’t push him away, you let him lay you down in that bed and he laughs. 

“It is, isn't it?” He pulls at the hem of your shirt, you raise your arms for him and the picture of it is wrong, daddy taking off your clothes. The thought, the word,  should disgust you but it only pulls your hands to him. You join in, and pull his shirt up and off, biting your lip at the broadness of him. You take in each freckle, the sprinkling of hair on his chest, the dip of his throat calling out for your tongue like a siren. 

He presses his lips to yours again, licking into your mouth obscenely. Unseemly. 

“You been wantin’ this for a long time, haven’t you babygirl?” He pulls your bra off, and the shock of cold air hardens your nipples. He bites his lip to see it, unable to stop himself from flattening his tongue against a hardened bud. A sound you’ve never let yourself make out loud in this room fills the space between you and that slithering thing luxuriates. 

He moves, languidly, unhurried to the other breast and holds the plump of it in his big hand and sucks at the second bud, sucks as much of the peak as he can into his mouth, breathing through his nose while you slowly spiral into madness.

When he lets go, he presses a kiss to your nipple and his facial hair tickles your skin. 

He pulls your leggings off along with your underwear in one go and the reality of it all hits you when the air hits your soaked core. That’s when the urge to put a stop to it is the clearest, when he kneels between your legs and spreads them wide, stares at the place where he’s already filled a million times in your mind. The place that’s drenched at the mere thought of him. 

“Joel-” You start, but he pushes your legs up, folding you and then he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth slowly, aiming it, a bullseye right on the lips of your cunt. It’s too much, too filthy and you let out a whimper. 

“I think you wanna call me somethin’ else right now.” He undoes his belt and his jeans, keeping his eyes on where his saliva slides down over the open mouth of your cunt, down towards your asshole. He pulls his cock out and part of you shatters. Your eyes flit to the toy sitting on your dresser, your eyes flit to the open door of your bedroom. 

“Don’t worry, your mama ain’t gonna be home for a while.” He smiles, conspiratorially. It's too real, it’s too hypnotic, seeing him there with his cock in his hand while your legs already ache from holding them up and open. He slides the blunt end of it through the mess he’s caused, through his spit and he groans at the sight of it. 

Your heart races so hard to feel him there, that you see the pulse of it in your vision. 

“Deep breath baby.” he warns before slipping inside the tight fist of your pussy, the size of him making you gasp. This is it, there’s no coming back from this and right now, with him seated deep, his groin pressed up tight and the tip of his cock kissing your womb you cannot even think of why you’d ever care.

This is where he's meant to be. This is where you need him. 

“Oh baby, that’s so good huh?” He thrusts shallowly, pulling out a little more than halfway before shoving his hips forward again. You don’t really know how to form words, you don’t know how to take in what’s happening. This is Joel, your step-dad, fucking you in the bed you grew up in. One hand sits heavy on your shin, holding it, the other slides up and holds onto your breast. 

“Look how fuckin’ wet this little pussy is for me,” he moans the words, “you like daddy fuckin’ you?” He thrusts harder and you moan despite the word hitting you in the stomach like a big drop on a rollercoaster. He shouldn’t say that, shouldn’t call himself that, not now. 

“No-” it doesn’t come out like you mean it to, it sounds wrong, like a caress. 

“No? But I think you do-” He leans forward, keeping his pace while pressing his chest to yours, his mouth all but lining up and despite your bullshit protest, you hitch your knees high on his ribs to make room because if he stopped you’d probably die. 

“I think you want me to be your daddy, don’t you baby, it’s okay, I want to be.” He speeds up and the sounds between your legs are so wet, so filthy. 

“You can say it, I want you to say it.” He holds himself up, his elbows caging in your skull and before you can complain or moan or cry he sticks his tongue down your throat again. Your hands finally join the fray and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tight to you. 

“Come on baby, say it for me, tell me how good daddy fucks you.” You moan, closing your eyes while your cunt floods him with wave after wave of slick, enough to drip down your ass and onto your bed, down his balls. Enough for it to soak the curls at the base of him. 

“Look at me when I’m fuckin’ you honey.” His hips speed up and it's hard now, his thrusts making your bounce, hitting a part of you that toy would never touch in a million years. 

You open your eyes, and look at him above you, sweat beading on his hairline. Never has he looked more fucking appealing than he does right then. The word is there, in your mouth and you know it’ll taste sweeter than anything in this world. 

The wrong thing wins.  

“Yes daddy.” You moan it, and the shameful thing sets off fireworks in your being, he smiles, and tucks his head into the damp crook of your neck, feeding his lovely filth right into your ear. 

“That’s my babygirl, that’s it, fuck baby you take it better than your mama.” Something inside recoils at that, but something else, another facet of that fucked up thing inside rejoices.

“Let me hear you say it again, say it when you come.” He licks a hot stripe up your neck. His words are a filthy groan, something to tuck away for later.

He reaches down, pressing his thumb to your clit just like he said on that couch and you keen, the slip and the pressure enough to toss you over the edge with an almost painfully intense orgasm. 

“I’m coming, daddy.” It’s a shuddering whisper as your cunt clenches around him. 

He moves quickly, kneeling between your legs to pull out and then he’s stroking himself over your cunt. It’s still pulsing when he paints it in his come. You catch your breath as he tugs at himself a few more times, milking himself against you with a disturbingly familiar groan. 

The fog clears altogether too quickly. The lights are too bright, you’re naked, and he’s still got his jeans around his thighs while the guilt creeps into your veins, replacing the euphoria. 

What have I done? What have you made me do?

[simplygojo]

His Heart, Your Home

Author's Note: LOVE THIS REQUEST! And it is okay my friend...I too am deprived (LMAO), and this personally soothed me, so i hope it soothes you. THANK YOU SO MUCH for requesting something from me :) Each request I get just makes me so happy and gives me so much writing inspo, it means the world. I hope this was something along the lines of what you were hoping for <3

Request: "heyyy 🫶 can u plssss write something rlly cutesy about toji… it can be whatever u want just super cute 😭 (im so deprived wow)" - @getoisinnocent

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: NONE, just a fluffy fic for y'all <3

You stretched your arms over your head, feeling the tension from the long day finally releasing as you settled onto the couch. The soft glow of the living room lamp bathed the room in a warm light, casting shadows on the walls. 

Outside, the rain gently pattered against the window, the sound soothing but also a reminder that you were alone tonight.

Toji had been gone most of the day, dealing with whatever shady work he refused to tell you about.

You’d gotten used to the mystery, the way he always left with a smirk and came back bruised but never too worse for wear. 

But on nights like this, when the rain fell, and the house felt too quiet, you missed him more than usual.

You were sat on the couch in your small apartment, some reality show playing quietly in the background as you attempted to stay up, waiting for Toji.

Just as you began to doze off, the door creaked open, and you heard the familiar heavy footsteps. Your heart did a little leap as you turned your head to see Toji standing in the doorway, water dripping from his hair and his clothes slightly damp from the rain. His sharp eyes softened as soon as they landed on you.

"You should've locked the door," Toji grumbled, his voice low and teasing.

He kicked off his shoes, took off his soaked jacket, and made his way toward you, his presence commanding even when he was trying to be quiet.

"You’re back late," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips as you shifted on the couch to give him room. "Rough night?"

"Just the usual," he replied with a grunt, sliding down next to you. His body sagged slightly, clearly exhausted, but his arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you into his side without a second thought.

His warmth was comforting, and you nuzzled into his chest, breathing in the scent of rain and Toji’s familiar musk.

"You should take a shower," you said softly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on his chest. "You’re soaked."

"Later," Toji muttered, resting his chin on the top of your head as his eyes mindlessly watched the TV. "I need this first." He said, giving you a soft squeeze as he pulled you to lie on top of him. 

Your heart fluttered at the rare moment of vulnerability. 

Toji wasn’t always the most expressive with words, but moments like these, where he sought you out for comfort after a long day, spoke volumes. You let out a soft hum, content to stay curled up against him for as long as he wanted.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you tilted your head up to look at him. His dark hair was sticking to his forehead, droplets of water clinging to his lashes, but his gaze was focused on you. There was something in his eyes—something gentle, a stark contrast to his usual tough exterior.

"Missed you." He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. The confession made your heart skip a beat, and you felt warmth bloom in your chest.

"You did?" You teased lightly, a smile tugging at your lips. "You don’t usually say that."

"Doesn’t mean I don’t feel it," he replied, his tone gruff, but the corners of his mouth lifted just slightly. Toji was always like this—gruff, rough around the edges, but when it was just the two of you, he let his walls down, even if just a little.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw, feeling him relax further into the cushions of the couch. "I missed you too, you know. It gets lonely when you’re gone."

Toji’s arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer. "I’ll always come back, you’re too pretty to leave alone for too long." He said, his voice steady, as if it were a promise. 

And in his own way, it was. 

Toji wasn’t the type to sugarcoat things or make grand gestures, but when he said something, you knew he meant it.

You stayed like that for a while, curled up against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as the rain continued to fall outside. 

It was peaceful, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t matter. All that mattered was the warmth of Toji’s body next to yours, the way his hand gently stroked your back, and the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing.

Eventually, Toji shifted, and you felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head. You looked up, and your eyes met his. His dark eyes were softened by a rare tenderness, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

It was gentle, full of unspoken affection, and you melted into the kiss, feeling the softness of his lips against yours. When he finally pulled away, there was a warm, satisfied smile on his face.

"I don’t say it enough," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. "But you’re everything to me."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, your fingers reaching up to brush against his cheek. "I know," you whispered back, your voice full of emotion. "I love you, Toji."

Toji’s eyes softened even further, and he pulled you back into a tender kiss. This time, it felt as if it was filled with all the emotions he rarely expressed—love, gratitude, and a deep connection that went beyond words. 

When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his large hand holding the back of your head firmly, before relaxing, letting your head rest on his chest as your pretty eyes fluttered shut. 

To everyone’s surprise, Toji loved moments like these with you. 

Toji loved the way your sweet scent lingered on his skin, especially when your hair was sprawled out across his chest.

Each time he held you close, the faint, delicate fragrance of you—soft notes of lavender and a hint of vanilla—seemed to wrap around him like a comforting blanket. It was a scent that made his heart swell with warmth and affection, grounding him in the quiet moments you shared together.

He cherished the subtle, almost unconscious ways you expressed your comfort and closeness. As you nestled against him, your fingers would occasionally trace gentle patterns into his skin, a soft, rhythmic touch that spoke volumes more than words ever could. 

It was as if your hands were mapping out a secret language of love, one that Toji could read with ease. The light, delicate touches were like a soothing melody, each stroke calming and reassuring him of your shared bond.

And when he held you close, he marvelled at how perfectly you fit in his arms. It was a feeling of completeness, as though you were made to be held by him. 

Your body seemed to mould seamlessly against his, and he found solace in the way you naturally nestled into his embrace. It was a perfect harmony, a silent understanding between you both, where every curve and every sigh felt like it belonged to him alone.

Toji loved you. It was a simple truth that resonated deeply within him, a love that was evident in every lingering glance and every tender touch. It was a love that enveloped him entirely, a profound connection that made every moment with you feel precious and irreplaceable.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Toji shifted and gently lifted you off the couch. "Come on," he said softly, his voice warm with affection. "Let’s get you to bed."

You allowed him to carry you to the bedroom, feeling the comforting strength of his arm around you.

When you reached the bed, Toji helped you settle in, pulling the covers up to your chin with a tenderness that was rare for him. He brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Comfortable?" He asked, his eyes scanning your face with a mixture of care and curiosity.

"Perfect," you replied, giving him a reassuring smile. "Thank you."

Toji nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I’ll be right back."

With that, he left the room, and you could hear the sound of running water as he took a quick shower. You took this time to snuggle deeper into the blankets, feeling the warmth of the bed and the comfort of knowing Toji was just a few steps away. 

It took all of the strength in you not to surrender to the temptation of sleep, but you knew you had to wait for him. 

A few minutes later, the sound of the shower stopped, and Toji emerged, clean and refreshed.

A large, fluffy towel was wrapped around his waist, and his hair was still damp and tousled. The sight of him like this, relaxed and fresh, made your heart skip a beat.

He re-entered the bedroom with a small, lazy grin on his face, his eyes softening as they met yours. "You ready for some company, pretty girl?"

"Absolutely," you replied, a smile spreading across your face.

Toji tossed the towel aside and slid into bed next to you, not bothering to put on clothes as he got under the covers, his body naturally finding its place against yours. He pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your waist as he settled into the bed. 

You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest behind you, and his breath tickled the back of your neck.

He placed a soft kiss on the nape of your neck, and you shivered slightly at the sensation. His lips lingered for a moment, and then he rested his forehead against the back of your head, his warmth enveloping you.

You sighed contentedly, feeling his warmth and presence cocooning you in comfort. The rain continued to fall outside, the sound a soothing backdrop to the peacefulness of the moment. Toji’s muscular arm held you close, and you felt a profound sense of safety and love.

As you were drifting off, Toji leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck. It was a sweet, loving gesture, and you felt his warmth enveloping you.

"Sleep," he murmured, his voice already heavy with exhaustion. In response, you settled deeper into the embrace, feeling the slow and steady rhythm of Toji’s breath as it matched the gentle lull of the rain against the window.

His kiss lingered on the back of your neck, a tender reminder of his affection, and you felt a wave of contentment travel down your spine.

The room was filled with a soft, serene quiet, which was interrupted only by the distant rumble of thunder and the steady patter of raindrops. 

The darkness outside seemed to blend seamlessly with the comforting shadows within your bedroom, creating a cocoon of intimacy around you both.

Toji’s hand moved slowly up and down your arm, his touch gentle and soothing. You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, a reassuring anchor in the calm of the night. 

Every now and then, his fingers would brush against your skin, sending a gentle wave of relaxation through you.

But before he drifted off, you heard him murmur one last thing—so quietly you almost didn’t catch it.

"God, I love you."

[twinkletfout]

— For The Heir —

The Gojo clan is a powerful one, and so is Gojo Satoru. You have been promised to marry Gojo since you two were a child. And that's how you got married to Gojo satoru due to the force of both your parents. But Gojo is the strongest sorcerer, he has other responsibilities that he needs to fulfil, because of that he barely visits you. And when he does, its for his own needs.

The house is built for you and your husband to live a happy ever after life, but you are leading a lonesome life in the very same house. Gojo has come unannounced again on the doorstep

“Long time no see, wifey” he said with a smirk on his face, his hands crossed over his chest.

“Do not call me that” you said it with much force and disgust on his face. Your eyebrows hardening at his cocky demure

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you with an amused expression as he took off his shades, looking directly at you. “Ah, you haven't changed at all, have you?”

You moved to the side to let him in. “It's rare for you to visit” you said with a slight mocking smile on your face.

“Can’t a husband visit his wife once in a while?” he said as he stepped inside the house, as he slid both of his hands in his pockets.

“Cut the act, Satoru” you said getting serious now as you closed the door behind him

He turned around to face you as he stepped closer, still maintaining a visible space between the both of you. His eyes darkening with a hint of annoyance “okay, fine, i'm here for a reason” he said

“Of course, I know you wouldn't be here for a reason, so spit it out,” you said, already getting exhausted by his presence. He let out a dramatic sigh as he said, "There's a meeting at the Gojo clan headquarters. They want you there. And before you start protesting, I already told them you would come.”

"what?" You said in disbelief "you just told them i would come without even asking me?” you asked as your eyebrows knitted with confusion

"Listen, I get it. You don't like being bossed around but like I said, there's a meeting, and your presence is required. I won't take no for an answer.” he said with no emotion flashing across his face, his eyes narrowing at you slightly.

“Im not coming” you simply said at his face. His expression darkened, a flicker of annoyance crossing over his face, "Oh, come on. Stop being so stubborn."

He stepped closer until he was just a few inches away, his voice low and firm. "You don't have a choice. The Gojo clan summons you, and as my wife, you can't refuse. So you're coming whether you like it or not.” he said making it crystal clear, you could feel his anger flaring up each second.

"you show up only when you need something, why do I have to obey your every single word?” you said, arguing back, finally raising your voice. His tone grew sharp as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe if you weren't so damn stubborn, I wouldn't have to be here, ordering you around."

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "But you are my wife, and the Gojo clan expects you to attend. So stop being difficult and just comply for once.”

You let out a heavy breath before yelling, "I am being difficult? You could've told me beforehand or at least asked me if I wanted to go! Why are you deciding everything??" He clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin at your constant defiance as he finally raised his voice "I'm not deciding everything, I'm doing what needs to be done. The meeting is important and I cannot have you causing any problems. So can you please just cooperate for once in your life?”

You took a step closer, as you held your head up high looking at his eyes "Have you ever cooperated in my life? Have you ever? tell me!” your voice broke a little as you yelled back

He clenched his jaw, his annoyance growing more apparent. The tension is growing heavy. "Use you? Is that what you think this is? I'm your husband, not some random person off the street. And if I remember correctly, this marriage was an arrangement, an obligation, not a love story."

He paused for a moment, his voice cold and detached. "I come here when I need to, and that's it. You're my wife, but at the end of the day, you're a tool for the Gojo clan” you shuddered at his words, his words sinking into you like knives, you couldn't say anything more, so much rage bubbled up inside you, but a hint of hurt flashed but before you can hold it back, tears welled up in your eyes. You turned your back at him, determined to not let him see that his words has affected you

He observed your reaction, the change in your expression not going unnoticed by him.

A flicker of guilt passed through his eyes, but he pushed it aside, his expression hardening again. He knew he had said those words to shut you up, but seeing you like this was, unexpectedly, harder than he thought.

"a love story? I'm well aware that this is anything but that” despite the argument, after it felt like an eternity we reached the gojo clan headquarters. As you both entered the clan headquarters, the other clan members greeted you both. You put on a polite smile, thanking them as you walked in.

Satoru, on the other hand, was noticeably distant. He nodded at the greeting, but his mind seemed elsewhere, probably still distracted by the events from earlier.

Eventually, the two of you were ushered into a large meeting room, where the other clan members were already seated around a large table. As you sat next to your so-called husband as the meeting went on.

One of the clan members turned to you and your husband as she asked. "So, how's married life treating the two of you?" one of his aunts asked, a polite smile on her face.

Satoru cleared his throat, glancing at you before answering. "It's... going well," he replied, his tone somewhat guarded. “Well, we called you here for a reason” she said, pointing to you with a smile, her face turning more serious.

“any news yet?” she asked. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the question. All she got as an answer was both of your complete silence. You looked slightly at gojo, but you could tell that he was nervous. She sighed before saying again “this is far more important than you think this is, Gojo” she said. Gojo straightened his posture as he said “yes, i know” he said it with so much annoyance. It felt like he already knew about this matter

“Its both of your responsibility to carry on the gojo bloodline, and to produce a powerful heir into this clan.” She said as the other members agreed, all you could do was nod but you were still in a bit of shock thinking about the current situation about your relationship.

As the meeting concluded, on the way home. You broke the silence asking him “are they serious?” You looked at him as you asked. “They are.” He confirmed as his eyes never left the road. “"No way, satoru. Whatever I did to please you and your family. This. I can't. You know how we are!” I said in so much frustration

He remained silent like he was caught between wanting to say something but didn't know what to say. “I know you don’t want this, and I don’t either,” he replied, his voice strained. “But they’re being relentless. They’re demanding an answer, and they won’t accept ‘no’ as an option.”

Before you could answer he said “we’ll take it slow” You could see the determination in his eyes as you looked over at him. “I know we have our problems but..” he let out a heavy sigh before continuing “it'll work out.” you were extremely mad at him now to not consider what you said. You never in your life thought about going through a relationship like this, you hated yourself for being in this situation.

You didn't know it was for improving the relationship you both had, Gojo has been coming home lately, you didn't comment on it. Of course it will only turn out into a big argument. Even though the conversation between the two of you was minimal it started to improve. He would come home and stay the night and leave the next morning.

Finally the weekend came, it was already past six, when you heard the doorbell you guessed it was gojo as you went to open it, he was dressed in a handsome turtle neck with a trench coat and black wide leg pants. “Get ready, we are going on a date” he said as soon as you opened the door.

Your eyes widened at his comment as you mumbled “what?” his eyes narrowed as he said, “you heard me” a small smirk tugging on his lips, “why now?” you said your eyes looking away searching for the clock to look at the time. “What do you mean? I can't show off my wife a little bit?” he teased as you looked back over at his face as you said “how sweet”

You decided to wear a dark red satin mini maxi dress, with crossed bandages over the back. When you came out of your room, you saw him leaning on the wall as he scrolled on his phone.

“How do I look?” You asked pretty nervously to get his attention actually, he looked over at you as he slid his phone in the side of his pocket. “Breathtaking” he said as he came over to you, his lips curving into a smirk as you raised your head to meet his eyes “i should take you out more often, hm?” you could feel your face heating up at his words. He gently slid his hands down your shoulder making you shiver as he took your hand in his hands “shall we go?”

It was only surprising that gojo engaged in a normal conversation with you, you could feel yourself enjoying this moment with him, how he tried not to get things awkward between the conversation and telling you a quick few jokes to earn a laugh from you. But a thought gnawed in the back of your head, that was he doing all of this just for you to give birth to his child. Or is actually enjoying the moment with you? You were confused.

You snapped back into reality when he asked “you okay?” You nodded your head, you were both heading out of the restaurant, his hands intertwined with yours.

Just like that, months passed as he started to be more present in your life, taking you out every now and then, both of you enjoying the company of spending time with each other.

Gojo came unannounced on a friday evening, you hadn't expected him to come home that day. You were kind of tired after lunch so you took a nap, that's when you heard the doorbell. You rubbed your head as you pushed yourself to go and see who it was, You opened the door, squinting your eyes as it was still hazy.

As you opened the door, Gojo was greeted by the sight of your messy hair, your tank top dishevelled and crinkled. What his eyes focused on was the strap of your top falling off your shoulder.His eyes widened slightly as he took in your appearance, his gaze lingering on your shoulder before quickly averting his gaze. He cleared his throat, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"Uh, hey," he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. "Did I wake you?” realisation dawned on you "satoru? I told you to call me at least when you come over" He watched as you rubbed your eyes, still waking up from your nap.

"Work ended early, so" he replied, leaning against the doorway. "You, uh... you look like you just woke up.” he said looking down at you. "yeah, i was tired, so i took a quick nap" He tried not to focus on the way your top clung to your body, or the way you pulled it up to adjust it.

He was failing, badly.

He forced a smirk on his face as he teased, "Are you always this messy after a nap?” your head bobbed up at his question as your eyebrows knitted "messy? I'm not messy" you protested.

At your cluelessness, he gestured towards your attire. "Your hair's a mess, you're still half asleep, and your top's all crooked," he teased, his eyes flickering over your dishevelled appearance. "Looks like a storm just passed through here.” you felt embarrassed when he said that as you quickly rushed to see your appearance in the mirror after saying "oh Shit."

He chuckled as you cursed. You were so oblivious to the effect you had on him, which made it even more endearing. As you examined yourself, he couldn't help but appreciate the way your loose top clung to your curves, accentuating your figure. He had to look away, feeling his heart rate quicken.

"damn i looked like that?" You said in disgust as you said “let me put on a hoodie” you opened your closet, looking through clothes. For some reason the fact that he had to see you like this made you want to throw yourself off a bridge.

He had to admit, he wouldn't mind if you stayed that way, but he didn't say it out loud. As you mentioned putting on a hoodie, he finally looked back at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Why bother? You look fine," he said, his voice casual but laced with a hint of desire. You looked back at his face as you found a grey hoodie in the closet. “Me, no way” you said as you put it over your head. He watched as you covered yourself with the hoodie, He had hoped for a few more glimpses of you, He shrugged, masking his regret. "Suit yourself," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He noticed the way you tied your hair up, revealing the slender curve of your neck. It sent a jolt of desire through him, making it harder to keep his composure.

He leaned against the door frame of your room, his gaze roaming over you. "You're always so proper," he teased, a hint of huskiness in his voice. "It's nice seeing you a bit... untamed for once.” your eyes widened slightly when he said that as you looked away, your eyes unfocused “yeah..?” You murmured, your eyes turning pink at his comment. He saw the uncertainty in your expression, how you fidgeted under his gaze. Just the sight of you, was driving him crazy.

He pushed himself off the door frame, closing the distance between you. He was now standing right in front of you, his tall frame towering over you. "You're blushing," he said, his voice low

"me? No" you said, chuckling , playing it cool as you averted your gaze away from him, rubbing the back of your neck. He smirked, His eyes fixated on your face, noticing the subtle flush of red on your cheeks.

"Don't lie," he said, his voice a near whisper. "You're blushing. And I wonder... why is that?"

He stepped even closer, reducing the space between you even more. "maybe if you weren't so close" He could tell he was making you flustered, and he was enjoying it immensely.

"Oh, so it's my proximity that's making you blush?" he teased, closing the distance between you again.

He took another step forward, now close enough that you could feel the slight heat radiating off his body. Your back hit the wall as you could not step back anymore, trying to maintain the space between the both of you. "satoru, what are you-” he cut you off before saying "What am I doing?" he repeated, his voice lower and more raspy than before. "Isn't it obvious?"

He took the opportunity to lean in closer, trapping you between his muscular frame and the wall. He had you cornered now, his eyes trained on yours. He leaned in further until his face was mere inches away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

His eyes flicked down to your lips as he slowly pushed the hoodie up, revealing a sliver of your bare skin. The sight of your exposed skin sent a thrill through him, and he couldn't help but let his fingers gently graze over it.

"You're even more beautiful when you're a mess," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "I should wake you up like this more often.” you didn't know how to respond to what he said, his touch and the way his eyes glanced at your lips, it was all making you crazy, your body trembled at his touch, your eyes not leaving his as you observed his every move. "What do you mean?" You asked with a heavy breath

his lips now mere inches away from your ear. He could hear the hitch in your breath, the slight tremble in your voice "You know what I mean," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Seeing you like this, all messed up like that, it's doing things to me.” your whole face heated up as he whispered to you.

You couldn't help but look away from his striking gaze. He noticed your averted gaze, It only fueled his desire further. He reached out a hand and gently turned your face back towards him, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice firm. As your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt as you met his gaze. The sight of you, pinned against the wall and looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes, made his pulse quicken.

His body pressed against yours, trapping you completely. His hands moved to either side of your head. "That's better.”

His lips were now dangerously close to yours, His eyes flicked down to your lips, noting the slightly parted state, and he found it increasingly hard to resist the urge to taste you. Your gaze moved down to his lips and then back up to his eyes, a silent admission of your desire.

He couldn't hold back any longer. With a low growl, he closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. That's when you realised how badly you craved for a touch. The kiss grew intense each second, fueled by a mutual need that consumed you both. He pressed his body more firmly against yours, pinning you against the wall with his weight, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He was greedy, so greedy.

[startanewdream]

can you write a fan fic on Sirius giving Harry advice on Ginny. I need Hinny fluff!

This was sent so many years months ago, hope you'll still read it, Anon!

godfatherly advice

Summary: Sirius and Remus discuss Harry's love life. Set during OotP. Around 1600 words.

“Do you remember a girl named Cho Chang?”

It is the sudden change in their talk — they had been exchanging stories of their favorite Christmas dinners at Hogwarts — that makes Remus blink, surprised. He turns to Sirius, but his friend is now looking at the far corner of the kitchen where Harry is playing Explosive Snap.

“What?”

“When you were teaching at Hogwarts,” Sirius answers, sounding impatient. “There was a girl called Cho Chang, right?”

“Right,” Remus agrees slowly. “Ah—she was in the Fourth Year. Ravenclaw. Bright girl. She wrote this essay about curses—”

Sirius waves him off. “Fourth Year,” he muses. “One year above Harry, then. Different houses. Not much in common.” He shifts his weight from one foot to another. “Pretty girl?”

He jumps. “I didn’t notice it! I was her professor—”

“Oh, get a grip.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “Think like a fifteen-year-old boy—never mind, you never mentioned your crushes back in school, I don’t think you were ever a teenager.”

Warmth floods Remus’ face, and he deviates his gaze. “Why are you asking, anyway?”

“Hum…” Sirius seems as embarrassed as he gets. “Rumour has it that Harry’s got a crush on this girl.”

“Rumour.” Remus glances at where Tonks and Hermione are talking with the Weasley twins. “I guess this rumour is friends with one of Harry’s best friends.”

“I am not discussing my sources with you. But if you can trust this particular rumour, and you can… Harry and this girl, Cho, got friendly before the end of the term.”

“Oh.” Remus watches Harry for a moment. With his overly large shirt and laughing freely as he plays Explosive Snap with Ginny Weasley, Harry doesn’t look his age. “I forgot he is old enough to have a girlfriend.”

There’s a grunt in answer. Sirius is frowning, displeased.

“What?”

“I don’t think she is his girlfriend. From what Ton—my source mentioned, it was just a snog or something like that. “

Remus raises his eyebrows. “Just a snog? That doesn’t sound like Harry.” Sure, Remus may have missed a few — a lot of — years staying away from Harry, but he got to know him during his time as a professor. And between Voldemort and the Triwizard Tournament, not to mention all the stress of this year, he doubts Harry has turned into some kind of Casanova since then. 

“No,” Sirius shakes his head. “But from what I got, Harry has had feelings for this girl for ages, but it is complicated—she was the girlfriend of the Diggory boy. The one who died in the Triwizard Tournament.”

Remus sighs. “Nothing is ever easy for Harry, is it?”

“Maybe,” Sirius mumbles, seemingly to himself. “But when Harry finally snogs the girl he’s been pinning for so long—you would think he might mention something to me.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Remus can’t help his smirk. “You know you owe him the talk, right?”

Sirius flushes slightly. “It’s not his silence that’s upsetting,” he says haughtily, clearly determined to ignore the second part of what Remus told him. “But rather—do you remember when James and Lily finally snogged?” That familiar jolt of pain hits Remus; his smile is wistful as he nods. “James kept smiling so much that it looked as if he had overdosed on an Euphoria Elixir.”

“And he couldn’t stop babbling about it—it was three in the morning, and he was still gushing.”

“Yeah.” Sirius looks older for a moment, his gaze far away before he nods towards Harry. “Does Harry look remotely like James did?”

“I don’t know. He seems quite happy now.” And as to prove his point, Harry’s laugh echoes in the kitchen for a moment. The cards have exploded, drawing everyone’s attention, though neither Harry and Ginny seem to mind. They are chuckling, and even though his own face is painted with soot, Harry jumps to smooth the small flames over the tips of Ginny’s hair. 

“Exactly!” Sirius beacons him to come closer, his eyes shining with mischief. “And not because of this Cho Chang girl, but rather…”

Sirius’ voice drifts away, conspiratorially. It takes Remus a few seconds — during which, impatient, Sirius glances meaningfully at the place where Harry and Ginny are — before he understands.

“Harry and Ginny? They are friends.”

“So were James and Lily.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you forgetting the part where James made a fool of himself whenever Lily Evans was around?”

Sirius shrugs. “Things never happen twice the same way. In fact, rumour has it that Ginny used to have a massive crush on Harry.”

“Hmmm.” Remus considers this for a moment, before deciding it is no big secret. “This one is true, when I was her teacher, I saw how she acted whenever Harry was around… but I thought it was because of that Chamber of Secrets incident.” He shakes his head. The things Harry faced at Hogwarts…

“Very romantic, I guess. The hero saves the girl… and usually gets the girl.”

“I think the hero was too young then to care about these things.”

“And now he is older, but he doesn’t seem to be caring for the right person.”

Remus blinks. “Aren’t you being too judgemental? You have just heard about this girl.”

“I am judgmental, but not of Cho Chang. I’m judging Harry.”

“Who is acting as a teenager for once?”

“I just mean… I thought they would make a good couple. Harry and Ginny. They share the same slightly twisted sense of humour and they seem good together.”

Remus sips from his goblet, allowing himself some time to consider it. Harry and Ginny have split up now; while Ginny is chatting excitedly with Tonks and Hermione, Harry has joined Ron, but now and then he glances at Ginny’s back — fondly, not exactly romantic, but maybe there is a spark there, a seed that could grow. There had been some storm over Harry’s head during that Christmas break, something related to the vision of Arthur being attacked; that storm is gone now, and though Remus has no idea of what exactly unfolded, somehow he thinks it was because of Ginny Weasley.

“They would match,” he agrees, and then, because this is Sirius he’s talking to, he adds carefully, “but you shouldn’t meddle with them.”

“I would never,” Sirius rebuffs at once, but there is a mischief spark in his eyes, so alive, that Remus knows this isn’t the end of it.

“Sirius—”

“Speaking about match-making, don’t you think my cousin looks splendid tonight?”

The inevitable flush that floods his cheeks is enough to make Remus change the subject.

He isn’t really surprised to find out, a couple hours later, that Sirius has cornered Harry as they clean up the last remains of supper. 

“How are things at Hogwarts? Any good news?”

Harry seems taken aback. “You know how things are,” he says, looking at Sirius as if he’s considering his godfather lost his mind. Remus winces, then unsuccessfully tries to get Sirius’ attention.

“I was thinking about things you might not mention in a letter or during a fireplace call, like… Maybe some romance in the air?”

Smoothness, Remus considers, was never Sirius’ strength. Harry flushes a deep red, all his attention in drying the dishes as if his life depends upon it.

“Er—okay. Not anything worth mentioning, just the same.”

“The same,” repeats Sirius slowly. Perhaps he senses that Harry is ready to run — his eyes have shifted to the door a couple times as if he is considering how many steps he needs to be away from there — because Sirius suddenly smiles. “You know, your father never had eyes for anyone but your mother.”

Harry’s eyes open. “Really?”

“Really.” Sirius looks only encouraged. “Now, James was a popular guy, a Quidditch hero, had a great sense of humor, and of course an amazing taste in his best friend, so there were girls chasing after him, but he never cared for anyone else. And he was right, because he and Lily… they were just perfect, destined to be together.”

There’s a dreamy expression on Harry’s face. Remus knows Harry is away thirsty for any information he might receive from his parents, so he may just be considering this new piece of the puzzle that are his parents. But as he drifts, destined or not, Harry’s gaze seems to fall on the corner where Ginny is now sitting by herself, playing with the cat.

And Sirius, bless him, notices it. He barely contains a grin.

“So, you get what I mean, right? When you find the one, you know you did. Someone with whom you really connect, someone who makes you laugh, who gets you. You don’t waste your time snogging anyone else…”

Harry blinks, suddenly pulled back to Earth. “Snogging?” His gaze is suspicious. “Who said anything about me… snogging?”

“No one. This is not the point, I just—”

“It’s late, I should get some sleep.” Harry glances helplessly at Remus, who nods.

“We’ll leave for St Mungo’s early tomorrow,” he agrees.

“Right.” Sirius looks as flustered as Harry does. “But Harry—you understood what I said? About the one—”

“Yes, yes.” Now Harry is almost at the door. “Good night!”

Remus gives him a few seconds before shaking his head at Sirius. “You should not have—”

“I just did what I am sure James and Lily would like me to do. They would adore Ginny.” The mischief is back on Sirius’ eyes. “Speaking of—I heard Ginny might be dating someone, I think she needs a piece of advice as well.”

“Fred and George have mentioned her Bat Bogey Hex—” But Sirius is not listening to him anymore, already crossing the room. Remus sighs as he sits to watch the scene; he supposes he could use a last laugh before going to bed.

[gyllenhaalstories]

BODIES IN THE SAND — ELWOOD DALTON 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and dalton wanted to make it special.

warnings: eating, mostly fluff & smut (making out, thigh riding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the fourth year in a row, making it everyone’s problem with a (very boring) self indulgent fic. 🎈 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The dock master waved at you when you passed by. You did not leave him enough time to repeat his speech about watching out for the damn crocs like a broken record. You had visited the Glass Key Marina so many times since meeting Dalton, one could think the old man would spare you the lecture. Whatever. This time, you ignored him. You stormed towards the wooden pier on a mission.

Dalton, now confident in Billy and Reef's abilities to handle the unruly patrons on their own (if they remembered to lift with their knees), allowed himself a night off from time to time. The pay as the bouncer of the roadhouse supported him plenty anyway. He did not splurge much, judging by the fishing box overflowing with stacks of cash. When he did spend his money, he would buy all the books Charlie recommended to him or he would treat you to his new favourite food, conch chowder.

You were usually the first person to know about his sporadic vacations, except for today. You drove to the roadhouse and Laura greeted you with a perplexed smile as to why you were there without Dalton. Frankie walked down the stairs from her office and expressed the same level of confusion. "Dalton called, said he's sick. I think the boat dreams are getting to him. Took him long enough." She explained before helping her employees to get the bar ready for another night. Dalton, sick? You stormed out of the bar with the same determination that made you beeline to The Boat.

"There you are." Dalton, who sat on the railing of the boat, stood up and turned around to greet you. The look on your face, painted with surprise, satisfied him, it was worth spending the entire afternoon decorating his corner of the marina. "Happy birthday."

You stood on a creaky wood plank and took in the scene. Orange balloons matched the colours of the sky as the early sunset reflected on the water. There were garlands and streamers, basically anything that could make the dock look festive. You scoffed at the Happy Thanksgiving banner attached to the back of the boat that clashed with the rest.

Dalton quickly justified. "I know... 'Was all Charlie could find." He worked on the ribbon of the balloon he had previously secured on the railing and held on it tight. He raised his leg to get off the boat, but you interrupted.

"I appreciate the thought. This looks so..." You spun on your heels and admired the decorations for a few more seconds. "This looks really nice. But that still won't get me to climb on that thing. It's literally sinking." You pointed at the rusty boat that the dock master constantly referred to as a frying pan. You wholeheartedly agreed with the older man.

"It's not sinking." He leaped from the boat to the dock. The tone of his voice failed to convince you. "... Yet." You both nodded in agreement. Not yet. Soon enough, Dalton would be taking a nap with the crocodile.

You let him come to you.

He tilted his head, eyes squinting at you. "You know, those little footsteps of yours sounded furious. Everything okay?" He clenched his jaw, already bracing up for bad news. It was all he seemed to attract: bad news.

"I should be asking you! Are you okay? I went to the bar and Frankie said you were sick."

"I don't get sick." He shook his head lightly.

"Then why did she tell me that?"

"Oh, I asked her to." He marked a pause, as if that was enough information. You pressed him to grant you with more details. "I thought it was a good excuse." There was a hint of pride in his grin.

"A good excuse that worried me a lot." Your attempt at reprimanding him failed miserably, especially when his grin widened while he stepped closer to you.

Dalton carefully tied the ribbon of the balloon around your right wrist. He then flicked the balloon, watching it bop. "Charlie and I have been planning this for a little while. Couldn't find a proper banner in time." His chin pointed at the Thanksgiving wishes.

"You can say something cheesy to make up for it." You suggested with a chuckle.

"I'm thankful that you're born?" Although he said it like a question, he was certain in the sincerity behind his words.

"That does the job." You both exchanged a moment of laughter. "Thank you for taking the time to decorate for my birthday."

"There's more." He guided you off the dock and through the makeshift path to the beach, always hovering a hand over your lower back to make sure he would be quick to react if you fell.

You let Dalton walk by the shore. Although you did not mind feeling the water run over your feet and ankles, he had insisted enough times that it was safer for you to stay on the other side. So you just let him do what he wanted. Your hand brushed over his a few times and you caught sight of the smirk on his lips.

He also noticed your head was turned towards the water so he pulled you to stand in front of him. He lost no time to hold your hand when you reached behind to grab his. Dalton mouthed a quiet wow when he took in just how beautiful you looked with the pink sunset sky.

Things were simple with Dalton. He did not talk much about what lead him to Glass Key, but you learned enough snippets of his life to know he wanted things to remain this way: simple. He liked the way you weaved yourself through the routine he built since working at the roadhouse. You'd visit before work, at work, after... You would hang out at the bookstore with Charlie, you would sit by the bar with Laura. It all felt simple. He did not hide his appreciation for the time you shared. He showed honesty in his intentions with you when a kiss turned into a lot more one too many times. Plenty of whispered praises, plenty of love filled gazes. You took it one day at a time with Dalton. And today was a special day in more ways than one.

Dalton bumped against you when you stopped walking abruptly at the sight of the makeshift picnic set up. Beach towels laid on the sand and held in place by a bunch of rocks and a pretty conch shell. It looked a little funky but he knew you could not care less. "After my first shift at the bar, Frankie told me this whole sales pitch about the place." He let go of your hand so you could wander towards the beach towels. "She said this was a beautiful spot to have a drink with someone special." Frankie was talking about the roadhouse, not the beach at the back of the marina but... It was close enough.

"She must be right." You sat down on the towel, Dalton joined you. He attempted to say something else, but the balloon floating in the evening breeze distracted him. You watched him intently as he untied the ribbon from your wrist and attached it to the handle of the cooler.

You exchanged a smile and enjoyed more of the sunset. You wondered to yourself how people could live in a beautiful place such as this and forget to pay attention. How could someone get used to a view like this? You certainly could never. You knew Dalton felt the same.

And Dalton knew what you were thinking about. He had travelled quite a bit, both for work and to escape it. He faced the same reflection time after time. "I don't know." He broke the silence, answering your unspoken question. "Maybe they don't have the right person by their side to remind them to appreciate the moment."

"I like the sound of that." You shifted closer to him and his hand slid along your lower back to find its place on your hip. "It's romantic."

"Wait 'til you hear about what I baked for your birthday..." He let out a small grunt when he stretched his arm towards the cooler to pull it closer.

"You can bake?"

"Nope." He opened the cooler and tilted in your direction. "But Charlie can." Kind of. He let you take a peak inside to admire the cupcakes that he prepared with the teenager and with Stephen on supervision duty.

You found it so endearing how he formed a bond with Charlie. Dalton even grew to like her comparisons to western novels and cowboy boots wearing broody heroes. You leaned in to admire the desserts and chuckled at the sight. "They're all squished."

"Shit." Dalton whispered at the sight of the dozen of misshapen cupcakes. He pulled out the tray and set it on the beach towel. He selected one that sort of held its shape during the transport from Charlie and Stephen's house to the beach. "I swear, I frosted them all nice for you." He grinned apologetically.

You grabbed the cupcake from his hand and took a bite. You swallowed thickly and tried to contain a funny face. "These are..."

"Burnt as hell." He stole a bite from the same cupcake and grimaced. He looked down at the rest of the desserts and began to explain that he was sorry, that he really tried to make your birthday special.

You interrupted him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There was frosting." It was not entirely false, but you hoped this would stop the train of thoughts.

He still looked unsure, he worried that he had messed up.

So you kissed him again, on the same spot. You would usually let him lead and make the the first move so he would not feel trapped, but you wanted to reassure him. "Spending time with you is a nice gift on its own. So this?" You gestured around you. "This is great. And this." You held his head in your hands for a few moments, waiting for his lips to curl into a smile. "It's all I need to have a good time."

The smile stayed glued on his face even when you pulled away. You reached for the cupcake again and Dalton took it from your hand to put it back on the tray, slamming the cooler shut for good.

"You can't waste the cupcakes, you worked so hard to bake them for me." You would have eaten a couple of the sweets had he not stopped you, you wanted Dalton to know you liked the gesture.

"Then the crocodile can have them." You nodded, agreeing with his idea.

"Maybe he'll spare you for another night."

The sound of yours and Dalton's laughter blended together as one. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He replied.

"I know I just said I'm having a good time, but..." You crawled to kneel between his legs. You sat back, keeping a safe distance to let Dalton decide. "We can make it even better."

He considered the implications of your offer. Now, he felt like he was the one being celebrated. You were a real treat, kneeling before him with a gaze he had seen many times before. You wanted more... You wanted him. Dalton leaned in, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

You let him come closer until your mouths met in a gentle kiss, mirroring what you did moments ago.

His nose brushed against yours while he left you longing for another kiss. The small nod of his head told you everything you needed to know.

You erased the distance completely and kissed him again with your head tilted to the side.

Dalton's fingertips caressed along your arms and guided you to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt one of your hands cradling the back of his head.

You hummed when his hands began to explore your body. The gentle touching up and down your back grew in eagerness.

Dalton's hands gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you closer. He placed a hand under your thigh and positioned you how he wanted. He took it slow, one step at a time. His hand travelled back up to the curve of your ass that he squeezed a little bit harsher than you expected.

The whimper you let out only encouraged him to keep going while his feverish touches fuelled you to take this further. Your tongue traced his lips before he parted his mouth open.

Your tongues danced together while he let go of you briefly to unbutton his shirt. Immediately after, your hands were all over him. Your fingertips followed the shape of his collarbone down to the curve of his pecs to end on the valley between his abs. You printed each and every detail of Dalton in your mind.

Your loving touch spread goosebumps on his skin, or perhaps it was the breeze getting cooler. The sunset reached its last instants, the sun appeared to be swallowed by the ocean far beyond the horizon. The marina was peaceful, but not quiet. Soft whimpers and grunts filled the silence as the waves slowly hit the sand.

You paused to catch your breath, Dalton could not take his eyes off your kiss swollen lips. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispered against your lips before leaning in again to let his tongue invade your mouth. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing the flesh and making your body move back and forth.

You ached from the lack of direct contact with him, you needed to feel him. But, again, you wanted to respect how far he seemed willing to go.

So he put his words into actions. Dalton made you straddle his thigh, trying to adjust the best he could to make sure you were comfortable. With his hands on your ass again, he began to make you grind on him. At first the movements were tentative, he let you adjust to the friction between your core and the clothes. But when you moaned at his ear, he could no longer hold back.

You rocked your hips back and forth, succumbing to the ever-growing hunger for more. More of this heated intimacy, more of Dalton's warm skin on yours... More.

Every time a door opened, Dalton closed it by repeating that you were a nice person, that you did not want to know him in that way, that you did not want to get close to him.

Yet, you waited. You showed him you had all the patience in the world for him. You showed that you were not out to get him, that you simply wanted to make Dalton feel good too.

You succeeded. The more you waited and reassured him that you would respect his boundaries, the more Dalton wanted to explore what lied beyond those limits.

"I don't want to stop." You murmured at his ear, trailing kisses from his ear and along his jaw until your lips connected again.

"I don't wanna stop either." His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to slow down. "But since you refuse to get on the boat with me..."

You remained categorical, he would never convince you to step foot in that death trap. "We can go back to my place."

"Oh yeah?" Dalton kept you immobile, pressed down on his thigh. Your whine of complaint sounded like music to his ears. "You think you can wait that long?" It was quite the drive between the beach and your home. If either of you had the genuine intention to leave, you would have done in a while ago. "I'm not too sure about that."

You scoffed at his assumption. "Can you wait?"

Dalton answered your question by capturing your lips with his in a rough kiss. He slowly, carefully, helped you to lay on your back. He guided your legs apart to make space, his gaze meeting yours while his hands caressed your thighs. He let the tension build, he needed you to give him one more sign that you wanted this just as much as he did. When your hips bucked forward, your body pressing more against his, he grinned. "I've waited long enough."

[pajarinwrites]

中秋节 | Wen Junhui x Reader

➳ fem!reader x jun

➳ wc: 6.1k

➳ TAGS: idol!au, established relationship

➳ WARNINGS: omg um, cunnilingus, jun is a SIMP, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it, my dudes), praise, just general adorable lovey dovey softness, but like medium rough sex? ig, not really rough?, i never know how to write warnings, just like i don't know how to write smut woops sorry

➳ AN: HAPPY MID AUTUMN FESTIVAL BITCHES and 女王们; this is only moderately edited bc i actually meant to publish smt for 中秋节 last year but i didn't finish it in time so here it is now (I’m sure it’s still autumn festival somewhere in the world…)! I LOVE WEN JUNHUI

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT I HATED THIS AHHHH i don't think i'll ever be able to write any smut in which the man isn't a simpering, whimpering, submissive, cowering, crawling, obsequious little simping piece of trash; it's just how i like my men, but i kinda wanna challenge myself some time, not this time though :P also i'm low-key proud of this smut? i used miraclewoozi as an inspiration bc their smut is literal art...

also, literally three pieces in one week??? WHO AM I??? this is more than in the entire year before combined, i fear lmao. sorry. i'm off to return to hibernate in my bog for another six months now thx bye, RIN OUT *drops mic

masterlist

Jun stepped out of the airport into the sweltering heat, but had to find that merely knowing the weather conditions was quite different from being prepared for them. Luckily, he had left enough space in his carry-on to take off the jacket and sweater that he had needed in chilly Seoul and during the flight – airplane ACs were notoriously unpredictable. Despite this, Hong Kong never seized to amaze him with its constant warmth. At least the eternal sunshine gave him a good excuse to wear a cap and sunglasses at all times.

He flagged down a cross-border cab because, frankly, he didn’t feel like taking the crowded metro all the way home. This way he saved himself from a lot of heat, hassle, and the potential of being recognised, even if it delayed him. As expected, the traffic in the city was a nightmare and he did make it home later than strictly necessary. He paid the fee, dodging the driver’s interested gaze, and mumbling a small “mh gōi” before dashing into his building.

When he was finally standing in front of his apartment door, Jun felt ready to just lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. That was, until the door opened to reveal his parents and little brother. Immediately, his frown softened and he dropped his bags to engulf them in one enormous hug.

“I missed you guys so much,” he exclaimed to groans from his little brother and a soft smile from his mother.

This was most likely going to be the last chance he got to spend more than a day or two with them. With their world tour and his busy filming schedule just around the corner, he wouldn’t have time for months.

Jun had spent years of Zhōngqiūjié apart from them. It wasn’t easy to watch most of his members be able to visit their homes and spend Chuseok with their loved ones. Some years it was only him, Minghao, and Joshua in the dorms. But he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Not when he could finally hold the people he loved the most in his arms. Well, most of them at any rate. He would never get used to having to choose between his biological and his chosen family.

His mother peeled herself away from him, squeezing his cheek and insisting that he had grown even more handsome over the last few weeks.  His step father clapped him on the shoulder and asked him about the flight; his brother asked if he had brought him anything cool. Unable to stop smiling for even a second, Jun assented to both questions. He was led to the living room by his mother to sit and relax after the ‘strenuous journey’, giving him a moment to fish the presents out of his luggage, handing one off to his little brother.

“Thanks, gē!” YangYang exclaimed and bounded off to his room to open it in peace. Their mother called after him, “Don’t forget to do your homework before playing! Dinner will be ready in an hour!” Jun smiled, handing his parents the other one.

“You shouldn’t have! I keep telling you we don’t need anything.”

“But I want to get you guys nice things, mā.”

She looked trapped half-way between smitten and resigned, but accepted the present gracefully. With a kiss on the top of his head she stated, “You can rest a little before I call you boys for dinner. I’m making your favourite.”

He thanked her, foregoing the idea of retiring to his room in favour of joining his mother in the kitchen. Most of the ingredients were already laid out on the counter, but when she bent down to pick up something from the bottom shelf, she gasped, “I can’t believe it! Where did all of our rice noodles go? I don’t think this is enough. And I also forgot to buy bamboo shoots earlier!”

She turned around, apologetically, and murmured about having to go to the market real quick to get some. Jun held out his hand to stop her in her tracks.

“Don’t worry, mā. I’ll go get the missing ingredients, and you can get started on the other dishes.”

“No let me go, Jun. You’ve just had a taxing flight and—“ His step-father tried to intervene.

“It’s absolutely no problem!” Jun insisted, not paying his parents’ protests any mind. He grabbed his sunglasses from the side table by the entrance and was out the door before either of them could stop him.

Jun had missed their shèqū, its homely atmosphere, the bustling of the people on the street, and hence didn’t mind the opportunity for a late-night stroll. The closest super market was just down the short road at the main square, and he stopped by quickly before continuing on his way to the live market.

There was a certain nostalgia in going to the market like this, just the way he used to with his mother when he was younger. The stalls didn’t even seem to have changed at all. There was the same group of old ladies dancing in the small park to the side, and a little further down the road, a small group of children was taking turns, performing on a gǔzhēng. Jun watched the windows of his old piano school pass by, still partially lit as students practiced inside. At the corner of the next street was the second-hand book store they had often visited, next to the pharmacy in which he used to sit on the kiddie rides for ages, singing along to jiātíng chēnghu or liǎng zhī lǎohǔ.

Still lost in nostalgia, he stopped by one of the vegetable vendors to acquire the bamboo shoots. Jun enjoyed strolling the aisles leisurely, taking a look at all the things that were being sold. As he rounded one of the displays, someone else was cutting the corner in the opposite direction. Jun barely managed to dance out of the trajectory of them, murmuring an immediate, “Sorry, are you okay?”

He pulled down his sunglasses and looked at the person in front of him in worry. They looked up, locked eyes with him and whisper-screamed, “Oh my god! Wen Junhui?”

Jun was taken aback for only a split second, which he spent worrying he had been recognised, before he could place your face. He hadn’t seen you properly in years, just another name on the long list of people he had to leave behind. The last time you had run into each other had been during Rock With You promotions, when Minghao and he had taken time for their own schedules in China. His eyes crinkled in the corners but he still didn’t dare to take off his mask.

“It’s been so long!” He said instead. You had pulled him into your arms within a second, just a quick squeeze before remembering where you were. You pulled away, pouting, “You didn’t tell me you’d be back.”

“Sorry, it slipped my mind. I also didn’t think I’d have enough time to meet you. Not properly…”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “What does that mean?” Jun blushed, making you laugh. “I’m kidding, A-Jun. But I’m glad we ran into each other. I mean, what are the odds!”

“I didn’t even know whether you still lived here,” he admitted, sheepishly. But Jun wished profoundly that you could feel how earnest he was being. You didn’t actually seem to mind his failure to alert you of his arrival, despite your history. Instead, you continued in your usual chirpy manner, “Yeah, I managed to find work close by so I could stay here. But I’m here here just for the holiday. Staying at my parents, you know.” Jun nodded, accompanying you to the register under more animated chatter.

“Do you have to get anything else?” You asked after you had stepped out the open market. He negated, returning the question.

“Me neither,” you replied, hesitating shortly before continuing, “I guess that means we’ll have to part ways again…”

The way your voice trailed off and your eyebrows knitted together made Jun reply before thinking better of it, “Actually, I think my mā can wait for these bamboo shoots a little longer…” You face lit up with such intensity and immediacy that Jun had to chuckle.

“In that case let’s take a stroll through the park. I’ve been keeping up with Seventeen obviously, but I want to hear from you, personally, how you’ve been doing.”

Falling into step beside you felt so easy. Together, you walked the same paths you did when you were teenagers, talking about everything and anything – back before he had to leave for Korea. He talked a lot about the shoots, dorm fights and misunderstandings, and how much he had missed his mother’s cooking. You winked, asking whether he hadn’t missed you at all, and he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence in reply. Instead he sputtered for a few seconds before you let him off the hook.

“It’s fine. I was joking, Jun. Oh, look!” Jun was glad for the distraction as he watched you hurry of to the pavilion down the path. If you hadn’t changed the subject he might’ve said something stupid. But when you spun around to face him under the colourful roof, with the small pond and the bamboo in the background, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t say something stupid yet.

He was sitting next to you, listening to you rant about your catty co-workers, absent boss, and the general annoyances of adulthood, unable to stop himself from grinning like an idiot at the familiarity, the ease of the whole situation. At some point he shot his mom a text to let her know that he ran into you and to eat without him. She simply replied that he should take his time, but he felt like she was secretly glad to have the two of you reconnect. Your conversations veered from family to old memories together until eventually, when the sun had set almost completely, you got up abruptly.

“I should get back. My mom wasn’t expecting me back immediately but at this point she’s probably wondering if I’ve gotten lost.” Jun nodded, getting up with you and stepping out of the pavilion. You threw one look back over your shoulder before smiling down at your shoes.

“I don’t know if you remember but… this is where you said goodbye…” Jun blinked slowly before the memory registered. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t immediately thought of the day he went to Korea, the last day he spent with you, the day he missed his chance to say so many things he had wanted to say.

“Oh,” he breathes softly, “yeah, I remember. But it’s not a very fun memory.”

Jun decides to look anywhere but you, at the trees lining the road home to his apartment building, the birds flying overhead, the children playing across the street.

“I have to agree. But I’m glad to have you back now. Even if it’s just for an afternoon.”

“Actually, you should visit tomorrow! If you want, of course. I don’t think my family would mind seeing you again after such a long time, and…”

He stops in his tracks. The two of you have reached the intersection at which your ways part. Jun turned to face you. The words were still stuck in his throat, just like all those years ago, just like every time he’s seen you since. But this time, with your hopeful eyes looking up at him, he takes a deep breath. This time will be different. He takes the leap.

“… and I’d also love to spend more time with you.”

You smile in reply, and agree to visit tomorrow. To say goodbye, you hug him again, and he feels like he’s floating all the way home. Maybe tomorrow he’ll gain the courage to tell you everything that he’s been keeping in his heart.

Their dorms were quiet, the shared living areas swallowed in darkness as Jun excited his room. He had been talking to his family via video call for the past hour or two, catching up and trying their best to celebrate Zhōngqiūjié together, even when they were physically apart. You had initially planned on joining the call, but there had been last minute plans that had kept you from it. Even though Jun understood, he had been able to help feeling a little crestfallen when you had told him about it. The two of you had made it work since he confessed to you a year ago, talking almost weekly on the phone because both his and your commitments kept you from visiting all too often. And since this year he couldn’t visit home because of the impeding comeback, he would’ve at least enjoyed talking to you on the holiday proper, instead of just during one of your regularly scheduled calls. Especially with how long it had been since he’d last seen you in person in June. To him, an eternity.

Vernon, Dokyeom, and Chan had returned to their families for the evening to celebrate Chuseok together, leaving the dorm deserted, save Jun himself. They’d all met up for lunch as a celebration before most left to go home. It was an effort by the Korean members to ease the homesickness of those that wouldn’t be able to see their families over the holiday. Seungkwan had ended up accompanying Vernon, while Joshua and Minghao decided to simply celebrate with each other, even though they hadn’t been lacking in invitations either. Jun had made the same decision. They had let him know they’d be out until the night but that he could join them at their apartment later.

Especially Dokyeom had had a hard time simply leaving Jun behind, but the older man had insisted that he was going to be fine, and that it would give him a chance to call his family in China. But coming out of his room and being greeted with a cold, dark apartment, made Jun question his decision. He sighed, contemplating for a second whether he should simply return to his room instead of feeling the hollow emptiness of their shared dorm. But before he could make a decision, the doorbell rang.

He wasn’t expecting anyone, so the sudden shrill of the bell surprised him. Maybe it was one of the members, back early. Maybe Minghao and Joshua had decided to surprise him at the apartment. But when he looked at the screen of the camera system, he was greeted with a sight wholly unexpected. His breath hitched as he looked at you, your eyes staring straight at the camera, a warm smile on your face. Jun buzzed you in, jittery with nerves as he worried you might disappear or he might wake up. You had been talking about your crazy workload and extra assignments for the past few weeks, how on earth were you here?

This has to be a dream, he thought, standing in the open door and waiting for the tell-tale ping of the elevator. When he heard it, he couldn’t even wait for you to round the corner. In slippers, he sprinted down the hallway to the lift, coming face to face with you as you were trying to heave your luggage out. Jun cast it aside, picking you up and spinning you around. He buried his face in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume and your skin.

“How are you here?” He whispered after a good few seconds of spinning and listening to your tinkling laugh.

“Well, you know, I bought a plane ticket, went to the airport in Hong Kong, I got on a plane—“ Jun interrupted you by picking you up again, proclaiming his happiness while you insisted that he finally put you down. If he had been a better man, he might’ve listened immediately. As it stood, it took the two of you several minutes to make it the short way from the elevator to his apartment door, Jun stopping every few seconds to give you another spin or a kiss.

Once you had finally made it safely inside, he brought your luggage to his room, before returning to the shared space and staring at you in fascination. There you were, right in front of him, leaning onto the counters of his dorm’s kitchen as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“How did you know I’d be home?” He asked and you giggled, presumably at his flabbergasted expression.

“I kind of asked the members for help…”

“What? Who?”

In hindsight, he thought he should’ve expected this. There had been a curious lack of invitations extended to him this year. Especially considering that Joshua and Minghao were still invited everywhere. And, thinking about it now, the fact that the two of them had insisted on spending the evening ‘outside’ without Jun had also been more than a little suspicious.

“Almost all of them helped coordinate it, actually. They all had to be in on it to some extent.”

“When did you start planning this?” He asked, making his way over to you. One last time, he picked you up, setting you down softly on the counter. This time you let him do as he pleased without protest, choosing to answer his question instead, “Like a month ago or so. When it started becoming clear that you’d have no chance to make it home this year.” Jun hummed in response, stepping closer to stand between your legs. His arms found their place around your waist.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing deeply when he felt you wrap your arms around him. He wished you could stay like this forever, or at least for a very, very long time. You turned your head, whispering that you had brought yuèbǐng from Shenzhen with you and he nodded automatically. Mentally, he was still focused only on your presence, the fact that he got to hold you in his arms and use his thumbs to draw absentminded circles on your waist. If he hadn’t been so focused on your body, he would’ve missed the small hitch of your breath as he exhaled against the column of your throat. He smirked lightly, murmuring something along the lines of ‘we can eat them later’ before attaching his lips to the place where your shoulder and neck met. You gasped, more audibly this time as he sucked on the sensitive skin, following the line of your collarbone. You tugged at his t-shirt, whispering that you should move to his bedroom but Jun smirked against your skin, slowly pushing up your shirt. As he tossed it over your head, he whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves all night.”

He smoothed his hands under your thighs, grabbing onto your plush flesh and cursing the layer of your pants for stopping him from feeling your skin. Jun pulled you closer, to the edge of the counter, so that he could finally feel you pressed to him again, making his hands wander back up. He placed them on your waist, gingerly at first, as if you were going to vanish into thin air if he didn’t handle you with enough care. He still wasn’t sure you weren’t a figment of his imagination how you were sitting in front of him, hair and clothes messy from your flight, but your eyes shining so brightly he thought you were the most ethereal being on this planet. But when you bucked your hips forward against his, all that restrain flew out the window. He slid his hands lower from your waist, relishing in every inch of skin he got to touch along the way, before he settled them on your ass, encouraging your motions even further. Your arms tightened around him, one hand finding its way into his hair, the other toying with the collar of his t-shirt before slipping downwards and below the fabric to caress his back. He groaned, moving one hand - albeit reluctantly – away from your hips to tilt your head to the side. He was overwhelmed with your nearness, the swell of your breasts pressed against him, the smell of your skin filling his senses, spreading through him, expanding into every corner of his consciousness until all he could perceive was your presence, your breath, your skin on his.

You kissed him with so much vigour that he felt light-headed, the sparkle of your eyes encapsulated him, as if he was floating in space, surrounded by innumerable stars, twinkling around him. In his weightlessness, your hands were caressing him, still. You dropped them to the hem of his t-shirt, tracing along the exposed skin there as the rhythm of your hips never faltered.

You broke away, Jun following your lips with a whine. He wasn’t yet ready to leave your cosmos, but you pressed a soft hand against his chest, tugging his shirt off. Jun, personally, would have preferred to resume kissing you breathless right away, but you had other plans. Your hands returned to his chest, covering the expanse of his pectorals, gliding over the ridge of his shoulder, caressing every centimetre of skin while tracing the muscles across his torso. Every touch left a tingling feeling, pulling him deeper and deeper into your gravitation. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his eyes screwed shut while he tried (and failed) to even out his breathing under your attentive ministrations. When your hands returned to his chest and you flicked against his nipples tentatively, his head dropped forward in defeat, colliding with your shoulder.

He was breathing more heavily than he’d like to admit, as if he really was slowly rising through the atmosphere, the air becoming thinner and thinner. His cock was painfully hard, you grinding against it deliciously with every roll of your hips. Separated by way too many layers, Jun thought dimly before tapping against your ass, signalling for you to lift your hips off the counter.

You complied easily, leaning back in a way that allowed him to strip you of your comfy leggings. He watched you shudder at the feeling of cool marble under your skin, goosebumps forming at the sensation. Reverently, he let his hands glide up and down your legs, watching you shiver again, just from his touch. He hadn’t even realised that he had lowered himself down until one of your hands grabbed for his hair and tilted his head back.

Ripped out of his reverie, Jun stared up at you, towering over him, backlit by the kitchen lights. If it hadn’t meant leaving your reach, Jun would have fallen to his knees right this second. In this light, you looked like a higher being, come to cast divine judgement on him, a final reckoning. Jun found he would have taken any verdict, as long as it meant preserving your attention. He would have obliged any command, taken any punishment with equanimity. He would have taken Prometheus’ place, if it meant he could bask in your presence for another moment. He would suffer any acrimony, any scorn, any tribulation, if it meant your gaze would continue to rest on him like this – zeroed in on his face, your expression soft with adoration. He didn’t have to fear any judgment. The only thing written on your face was love. It was mirroring his own, he was sure, from where he was pleading for you attention from between your legs. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, your fingers tugging at his hair with purpose. He angled his head, a miniscule movement, just enough to allow him to breathe a kiss against the inside of your thigh, a fluttering promise of continuation. If you let him. You loosened your grip, and Jun took it as the invitation that it was. His path mapped over the fat of your thigh, spilling over his kitchen counters, up one leg, down the other. All the while, he didn’t break eye contact, watching your expression crackle and slip, pleasure and frustration mixing in even measures as you breathed a plea, “Qīn'ài de, you’re teasing.”

His breathing became uneven, for just a second, at the term of endearment. You didn’t need to spell out your request. He could see it in the rise and fall of your chest, the sounds sneaking their way past your lips, the shifting of your hips – almost involuntary. The vision of you before him blurred as he tried to hear the rest of your declaration over the rushing in his ears. Your legs twitched under his hands; he didn’t remember when he had moved them there. But now they were here, holding your legs apart, leaving imprints in your flesh where they pressed against you. Jun searched your face for any sign of hesitance, any doubt, but he found none. All he could find was a sense of desperation clawing its way up your throat, leaving a blooming blush in its wake.

He still continued holding your gaze when he pressed his mouth to your core, pushing his tongue against the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped a little, hands twisting in his hair, the slight pain grounding him in this moment. His hands continued kneading your flesh, wandering, in feverish haste, across every expanse of skin they could cover. Above him, you writhed and moaned, his name leaving your lips as if you were now the one praying. Your head had tilted back slightly, breaking eye contact. But Jun’s gaze never left your face, drinking in every expression as he pushed your panties to the side to gain proper access to your sopping core.

“OhmygodJun,” you breathed, head lolling to the side when his tongue swirled around your most sensitive spot. One hand moved from your ass to your core, probing at your entrance just to feel you clench around him, hear the sharp intake of your breath. You tipped backwards, resting on your elbows as his name continued to tumble off your lips into the still air of the apartment. Jun’s other hand moved upwards, taking no care in pushing your sports bra out the way to grab at your breasts, pinching your nipples intermittently. He watched your chest heave as he slipped two fingers past your entrance at once, his tongue lapping between them, desperate to taste as much of you as possible. Your hands kept pushing him closer and closer, until his every sense was filled with you. Your taste on his tongue, your panting breath in his ears, the plush feeling of your thighs around his head. He moaned against your core.

Jun felt your high approach, maybe knew it was coming before you yourself even did, the way he could read your body in this moment, with how every fibre of his being was honed in on you and your pleasure.

“Jun, bǎobèi, I’m…”

His hand slid down to your waist, squeezing reassuringly. Jun felt you constrict around his digits, your moans growing louder and more desperate. He kept pressing his fingers into that spot that had you squeeze around him, kept his mouth sucking on your clit, humming at the flavour of you, until you peaked. You came with a cry of his name that made his chest swell with pride. Your thighs shut around his head like a vice, your hand evidently torn between wanting to pull him away and push him closer. Jun remained pressed to your core, lazily lapping at your release until your legs relaxed and he gained enough freedom of movement to lean back and search for your gaze.

Even though he had spent minutes staring at the ethereal picture of you earlier, he was still taken aback by your beauty: your hair even messier, your face blushed, your eyes glazed over in the hazy afterglow. He pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

It took you a few moments to answer him, calming your breath. A moment of which he took advantage to return to his full height, leaving kisses up your body on his way there. Once he was face to face with you, he brushed your hair out of your face, looking at you with devotion. You smiled back, softly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and immediately causing a warm shiver to run down the length of his body. There you were, in his arms, gazing at him with love, bestowing him with whatever divine favour slumbered in your presence.

You leaned in closer, letting your breath ghost over his skin for a second before whispering, “I need you.”

Jun was sure he was about to malfunction. The way his body reacted instantly, unbidden, must have been proof of your power. He couldn’t suppress the groan that rose to the surface, betraying his helplessness in the face of you. But you only smiled, sliding off the counter, tossing your bra to the side, and leaning into him.

“I know you need me too, baby,” you susurrated against the shell of his ear, your hand falling to his crotch, smoothing over the outline of his cock against his sweatpants. Jun gasped when you gave his balls a squeeze, trailing your fingers back up, pressing them into his slit, already oozing with precum and staining his pants. He felt like melting, like he was Icarus and you were the sun, with the notable exception that your radiance was warm and welcoming. It didn’t burn him, it only made him feel soft, welcome, malleable. He melted at your touch, moulded himself to the shape of you.

Although Jun felt it was very much stating the obvious, he conceded, “I want you so bad.”

You smiled, discarding your panties in a swift motion, before turning around and bending over the surface.

“Then come get me.”

He only stared, transfixed by the way your muscles moved under your skin, how the warm kitchen light of his home cascaded over you, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you turned around to smirk at him. Jun’s mind was still fighting with the fact that you were real, you were here, and you were his. You cocked an eyebrow, watching him like a cat watched its supper. When he still continued to stare, your eyes darkened, beckoning him with intensity. You wiggled your ass at him, pushing it back so it grazed his throbbing dick. As you threatened to pull away again, Jun’s hands flew to your hips. You yelped at the sudden strength with which he gripped you, pulling you back against him once more, grinding down against your ass with such verve that your head dropped forward. A long groan escaped you as Jun crowded you against the counter, pushing you down and leaning over your back.

“You need me, huh?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically while meeting his thrusts, moaning his name again and again, and growing more breathless by the second. Jun wanted to tease you, he really did. He wanted to ask you how bad you needed him. He wanted to force you to be more specific, to hear you say how you needed to feel his cock inside you, hitting that spot over and over again. He wanted to make your pretty lips form all those filthy words, say his name, beg for him. But it had been months since he had seen you in person, it felt like an eternity had passed since his skin was last allowed to touch yours, a lifetime since he heard you whimper and moan and pant for him like this. So, he forewent any more teasing. Instead, Jun simply shoved his sweatpants and underwear down his legs, freeing his cock.

You whined at the sound of it hitting his abs, wiggling your ass again and breathing out his name in that way he would never grow tired of. He grinned, sliding his dick through your slick, nipping its tip against your clit, once, twice, three times. So many times that you whimpered, an indistinguishable string of supplications, whines of baby, please please please leaving your lips. Your forehead was pressed against the counter now, as if the cold, hard surface helped ground you in reality while Jun had his way with you.

When, finally, he slipped into you, both of you sighed. You voices mixing in the air of the kitchen that seemed to have been growing thinner by the second. Jun’s breathing was growing ragged, and he could tell you weren’t faring much better than him. He started moving, slowly at first, testing the waters and, yes, possibly also to rile you up a little more. But when you clenched around him, any self-control was thrown out the window. His hands on your lower back were shoving you down against the ice-cold surface, making you hiss. His hips snapping against your ass as he searched for that spot that would make you drool over the marble countertops.

“Fuck… yes! Baby, right there,” you groaned when he found it.

Jun leaned back down over you, his front pressed against your back, his hot breath by your ear, whispered prayers of your name escaping him. He drove into that spot relentlessly, repeatedly until you lost all function of speech, reduced only to swears and his name. Jun mirrored your vocabulary, one hand sneaking around your body to find your clit again and rub punishing circles. With the added stimulation of his hand, the pressure of his weight, and the way his cock was hitting that spongy part inside you again and again, you felt your pleasure crest alarmingly fast.

“Junjunjunjunjun,” you breathed, but, again, he somehow had known before you what was coming. His groans surrounded you, your perception narrowed to just the feeling and sound of him.

“Hold on a little longer, baby,” he breathed, and you barely registered it. Just nodding for the sake of nodding, praying his own release would find him fast.

“Doing so well, baby. So good for me,” he continued, almost to himself, baiting your release even more.

A few agonising, timeless moments passed until, “That’s it, let go. Come for me, baby. Come with me.”

Immediately, you released a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper, you head falling forward again as your whole body tensed up. Jun followed your example, his head dropping against your shoulder as he drove his cock into you, prolonging both of your releases as much as possible, until the sensitivity forced him to pull out. He remained folded over you, so close that he could feel his cum drip out of you, landing on the kitchen floor with a small splat. The air felt too thin for any movement, so he remained draped over you, his thumb drew circles on your lower back until you returned to him, mumbling his name.

“Are you alright, qīn'ài de?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your hair sticking to the nape of your neck. Jun brushed it to the side, leaving a small peck where it had been.

“Nooo,” you whined, “I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care,” he replied, matter-of-factly, smoothing his hand down your back one last time before peeling himself off you to get some tissue. His heart tore a little at the weak whine you let out in response to his absence.

“Don’t worry, I’m just trying to take care of you.”

You only whined more when he wiped the rest of your combined release from between your legs before also cleaning the floor. He caught your eyes from over your shoulder, smiling softly, and leaving another kiss on your back. After getting rid of the tissue, he pulled you off the counter, wrapping you up in his arms.

“You were amazing. I love you.”

He could hear the smile in your voice when you replied, “So were you, bǎobèi.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here…”

“I missed you something fierce,” you said by way of explanation.

“Me too. I miss you every day. Every hour.”

To his confusion, you smiled warmly at his pout, one hand caressing along the side of his face until it came to rest on his collarbone. You leaned in, lips ghosting against his in a silent promise, “Then let’s make the most of right now.”

Jun grinned, bending down to pick you up, laughing at the surprised yelp you let out.

“What on earth are you doing, Wen Junhui!”

“I think it’s time for a bath.”

“That is not what I was trying to insinuate!”

He wiggled his eyebrows, feeling his heart sore at your scandalised expression. Resting his forehead against yours, his eyes searched for yours, holding their stare for a few moments. With a smile on his lips and in his voice he murmured, “I don’t care what exactly we do in the bath, as long as we do it together.”

[priniya]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 BEFORE US! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. ollie bearman x webber!reader.

summary. a drunken encounter leads to a history straight out of rom–com, turning the world of a formula 2 driver upside down.

notes. reader tells ollie the plot of before sunrise. also, reader is said to be ollie’s age (kinda self-indulgent LOL) maybe part 2 of them meeting in spa? 😁

it was eleven in the evening, while you were having a good time on the streets of hungarian capital city. your actions were not exactly responsible as you were there with a friend of yours that you met online a few months ago. also, you weren’t exactly sure how you managed to strain away from your father and oscar. well, alright — there was a possibility that a train, a sweet smile and a promise to be safe were involved.

honestly, you don’t even know how you ended up in that small bar, but in the larger point of view, you were happy that you let lara drag you there. you already had a few drinks in, you were going back to your booth, when you accidentally bumped into a muscular, tall guy, spilling the drink on your white dress.

“shit, i am so, so sorry.” the boy — because you could easily notice that he must’ve been similar to you in age — spoke relatively slowly, probably out of kindness as he couldn’t tell if you were fluent in english or not. some would call it offensive, but you considered it slightly endearing that the boy tried to be as considerate as possible, knowing that not everyone in the world speaks english.

his face fell to your chest for a tenth of a second, a small cough escaping his lips, before his cheeks tinted pinkish from embarrassment that he even let himself be so blatantly disrespectful towards you. what made it even worse was that the once white dress became see-through.

“shit, shit, your dress. i– here, take this.” he stuttered, swiftly taking off his grey hoodie, letting you take a glimpse of his toned stomach for half a second as his shirt rolled up.

people around you two, suddenly stopped existing and maybe the alcohol you’ve consumed that night was at fault — or maybe it was the charming aura around him, but you honestly couldn’t care less. he was the only guy that wasn’t trying to harass you or make your night less fun and definitely more stressful.

“you shouldn’t apologise, it’s all my fault. i wasn’t paying enough attention.” your voice was loud, but yet still soft enough, so only the boy you bumped into could hear you. “i’m yn, my friend lara is there in the corner booth, do you… um, maybe wanna join us? so i can get you a drink for bumping into you?”

it might’ve been a risky move — he could always say no, laugh at you and go away, thinking you were the most embarrassing person in the entire bar. or he could think that you were a pretty cute, interesting girl that he’d like to spend a july evening with. and, fortunately for you, ollie introduced himself with a quick breath of relief (that he didn’t know he was holding), said that he’d love to join you and buy you a drink, but he was there with two other guys and one of the friends’ girlfriend.

so, upon hearing that, as a responsible human being, you… suggested that they should join you as well, because you really felt like getting to know ollie a tad better. upon hearing that he wasn’t there alone, you nodded with a small smile, before suggesting that it’s not really a big deal and that maybe the four of them would like to join you and lara, who wouldn’t have anything against it since she was a social butterfly, loving bigger crowds.

two and a half hour later, you ended up walking down the cobblestone pathway, while your newfound group of friends was a few steps ahead. lara quickly got along with kimi, eliska and gabriele, so you felt less guilty that you got so occupied in the endless conversation with ollie, slowly trailing behind the group. a month or two later, you were told by eliska that she saw the way you and ollie click and made sure you could get along.

you weren’t sure where the six of you were going, budapest was a gorgeous city, but keeping your eyes on bearman was pretty much enough. he had your arm hooked around his as you slightly started to stumble from the tiny gaps in the path. a giggle escaped your mouth as he whispered a really cheesy joke, his lips inches away from your ear. then, your drunken mind thought that you should come clean with the cute boy about why you’re actually in budapest.

“i have a confession.” you started quietly, your words barely above a whisper. ollie let you continue as he simply nodded. if you weren’t tipsy from all the strawberry daiquiris you had at the bar earlier, you would notice how his body tensed slightly, almost as if he was afraid of what you were about to say.

the first thing that came to his mind was that you had a boyfriend somewhere in monaco, while he was really getting a vibe from you that maybe you were interested in getting to know him as much as he wanted to get to know you. just half a second later came the thought that you knew who he was and it was just as awful. he hasn’t been in the spotlight of motorsport for a long time yet, but he was aware of how people’s perception on things change once they realise what he does, and he really, really didn’t want it to be the case with you.

“this is not something i usually tell people on the day i meet them, but you’re so genuine and so, so nice to me.” your words were coming off as rambling, though despite the lump in his throat, the prema driver couldn’t help but think that maybe he could live with the thought of you bumping into him on purpose if he could listen to your cute rambling for a few more minutes. “and i’m really enjoying spending time with you right now, and-and i don’t want you to think that i’m like a liar or something, because i really am not.”

“hey, breathe. whatever it is, i don’t think i’m gonna perceive you as a liar.” his quiet chuckle with a nervous undertone was enough for you to calm down a bit. his hand dropped to yours, squeezing it for a little more reassurance.

“that’s what i’m really hoping for.” you whispered, looking down at your jointed hands, a ghost of smile lingering on your face. “so, there’s this sport you might’ve heard of — or not, honestly if it wasn’t for my dad, i don’t know if i would, but — gosh, i’m sorry i’m rambling again. alright… there’s, um, formula one, right? i guess you know, because it is a big thing in england, i suppose.” oliver nodded once again, a pit in his stomach growing.

“the thing is… i’m in hungary for that exact reason. there was the grand prix this weekend and i came here with my dad, because, um… he’s a manager of, um, one of the drivers. oscar? he won today, yesterday, technically.”

ollie couldn’t believe what he just heard. he was so scared that you were pretending just to boast about hanging out with formula 2 and formula 3 drivers, while you were having an inner turmoil of your own, weighing pros and cons of telling him that you were the daughter of the mark webber. he could see the nervous expression on your pretty face and his heart swelled, knowing that in those two and a half hours of constant chatter he gained so much of your trust to be told that.

for other people it might seem like it was nothing, nevertheless ollie knew how much fake people you must’ve met in your life, who liked you for your father’s achievements and not you. god, for a moment he felt like crying.

“i was there too.” he gave you a shy smile. before you were able to overthink every possible scenario with the worst possible outcome, his smile widened, his hip gently nudging yours. “i’m racing for prema in f2.” he chuckled at your surprised expression.

bearman, as he was a tad more sober than you, could easily notice the weight falling off your shoulders, once you recognised him, quickly replaced by a blush of embarrassment that flooded your cheeks.

“that’s why i thought i’ve seen you somewhere.” you muttered, scrunching your nose, gears in your brain working overtime. “i’m sorry, it’s— i haven’t really been up to date with formula 2. but i remember you from saudi, i wasn’t there, but my dad was really impressed. everything makes sense now, though.”

“no need to be embarrassed or anything, i’m glad neither of us recognized each other. you made me feel like a normal teenager for once.” he grinned down at you, your face matching his as he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer, but you couldn’t really complain.

you didn’t remember the moment, when your night turned into a reenactment of one of your favorite rom-coms — before sunrise. gabriele, kimi and eliska had to go back to their hotels, suspiciously at the same time, when lara’s curfew was coming. it was truly reckless for you to stay out with ollie till your train back to the place your father had rented for the four days stay in hungary. once you were alone, he made sure to keep you close to him at all times, so if an emergency occured, he’d be able to protect you.

“i feel like i’m in a movie.” your admission was soft as you slowly sat down on the grass in the park, the state of your white dress long forgotten as it’d be green once the sun was up.

“a movie you like?”

“my favorite one.” ollie smiled.

“tell me about it.” he suggested, plopping down next to you, uncorking the wine you two bought earlier in one of those 24/7 shops.

“it’s about two people that met on a train going across the europe.” you started explaining, ollie’s free arm slung across your shoulders once again, making you realize what his love language must be. “he’s american and she’s french, once they stop in vienna, he asks her to get off the train with him and walk around the town with him till he has to go to the airport, because it’s his last day in europe. she thinks it’s crazy, but she agrees and they spend the entire night together. nothing kubrick-esque happens there, all of the action happens during their dialogues. they share opinions and stuff. it’s kind of silly, but they end up in a park, too, with wine and stuff.”

“like us.” he commented, his eyes still lingering on your face as they were, while you were skimming over the plot of the movie.

“like us.” you repeated softly.

“so, what do they do in the park?” ollie asked another question, earning himself a small hum from you as you shifted closer, his thumb absentmindedly drawing shapes on your shoulder. your stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies as he asked all the right questions, made all the right moves, giving you all the right smiles.

“they kiss.” a whisper left your lips, tilting your head to get a better view of his face.

“they kiss.” it was the prema’s driver’s time to repeat the short sentence as you just nodded, noticing the way his eyes flickered to your mouth.

sweet silence embraced the two of you as bearman took his chance and leaned forward an inch or two, cautiously testing the waters. when you didn’t pull back, a smile tugged onto his face, before cupping your cheek with his free hand.

however, ollie didn’t kiss you for a moment that felt like eternity. his mouth just hoovered over yours, giving you a chance to back up, to show him that he read the signs wrong, but you didn’t. your eyes locked with his, before his lips were moving against yours in a sweet, gentle and almost tantalising manner. you couldn’t tell how long were you kissing for, but when the two of you finally pulled away, his mouth was tinted with the red shade of your lipstick, both with messed up hair and slightly swollen lips.

it was almost seven in the morning, while you were sitting at the train station with your hand clasped in ollie’s. the silence between you was truly the most comfortable thing in the world at the moment. budapest was slowly waking up in the background as you enjoyed his presence beside you.

“what do they do in the movie before they part ways?” he interrupted the silence.

“they promise to see each other in a six months time in the same place. they don’t exchange numbers or anything, though.” you recalled, wondering where was he going with this.

“and do they? meet, i mean.” he asked, already expecting the answer as you’d told him it was a trilogy.

“not in the set time. she can’t make it to vienna again, because her grandmother dies, but he does.” you nodded. “but they do meet each other again, eight years later, this time in paris.”

“good thing we’re not jesse and celine.” ollie joked, a grin tugging on your lips as you nod in agreement. “i do have your number, and we can see each other in spa on thursday, if you want to.”

“i do.” this time, you were the one to press a gentle kiss on his lips for a brief second as your train arrived. bearman just grinned back at you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “i’ll see you on facetime then, and in belgium.”

ollie stayed for another five minutes after your train departed. his gaze dropping to the phone in his hand before he quickly sent you a message.

ollie: thank you for making this night amazing for me x

[prettygirl-gabi]

Partners-In-Crime

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Rating: General Audiences

Warning: angst (like very substantial amount), fluff, happy ending

Category:F/M

Fandom: Seventeen (SVT), boyband

Relationships: !idol Mingyu x !idol f reader

Summary: In a whirlwind of fake dating to avoid breached contract lawsuit, Mingyu and Y/n navigate growing feelings, blurring lines between pretend and real.

Trope: Fake dating

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Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the ninth installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

I never really thought I’d find myself in this situation: fake dating one of the hottest idols in South Korea. Yet, here I am, sipping an iced caramel macchiato in a corner cafe, pretending that being next to Mingyu from SEVENTEEN is the most natural thing in the world. In reality, my heart is racing, and not in the good way.

“Y/N, could you, like, pretend to be happy?” Mingyu whispers through a tight smile, his voice barely audible over the ambient music and chatty customers. His dark eyes flicker with a mix of annoyance and desperation.

“I am happy,” I snap quietly, struggling to adjust the fake smile plastered on my face. “Well, as happy as I can be, considering I’m fake dating you.”

A little louder than intended, I notice a few heads turn our way. I can feel the pressure mounting. We’re supposed to be the doting couple everyone envies, yet the tension between us is thicker than the whipped cream on my drink.

His fingers drum impatiently on the table, the dull thud echoing my pounding heart. “This was your idea, remember? To throw off the media frenzy surrounding both of us.”

Sure, using the classic “fake dating” trope to divert media attention seemed brilliant in theory. We both had enough scandals and rumors hovering around us to last a lifetime. Pairing up would squash at least half of them.

Mingyu suddenly leans in, looking intently at the menu stuck between the salt and pepper shakers, but I know he isn’t paying attention to the array of overpriced sandwiches. “Y/N, if we don’t pull this off, Dispatch is going to have a field day. Again.”

I sigh, slumping back in my chair. “I know, I get it. But couldn’t we have found another way?”

He opens his mouth to argue but instead, a genuine laugh escapes his lips. “Like what? Publicly announce we’re focusing on our careers and ask for privacy?” The sarcasm in his voice isn’t lost on me.

“Okay, fair point.” I roll my eyes but can’t help a small smile. “So what’s the plan now, Mr. Perfect?”

His grip tightens on the table edge before he looks up with a smirk. “We’ve got a photoshoot tomorrow morning for a ‘couple’ branding campaign. We just need to act like we’re head-over-heels for each other, got it?”

I groan inwardly. Nothing like forced intimacy to kickstart a beautiful, fake relationship. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Only if you make it one,” he teases, his smirk widening. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms smugly. “Or maybe you’re just afraid you’ll actually fall for my irresistible charm?”

I snort. “Keep dreaming, pretty boy.”

==

The next morning arrives faster than I’d like. The cosmetics studio is buzzing with activity. Staff members rush around, juggling makeup palettes and camera equipment, their energy palpable.

“Y/N! Mingyu! Over here!” the director waves us over to a pristine white set, where we’re expected to coo and swoon

“Showtime,” Mingyu whispers in my ear. His peppermint breath sends an involuntary shiver down my spine. This fake boyfriend thing is harder than it looks.

I force a smile, slipping my fingers through his as we pose for the cameras. Each flash feels like a dagger, reminding me this isn’t real. But for the sake of our careers, we plaster on the affection.

“Y/N, could you look at Mingyu like he’s the best thing that ever happened to you?” the photographer instructs, eyes focused behind the lens.

Like he’s the best thing that ever happened to me? Easy. I turn, my gaze softening as if on cue. As much as Mingyu frustrates me, he’s also been my confidant and partner-in-crime through this chaotic idol life. Maybe this won’t be so hard after all.

Mingyu meets my eyes, his expression unexpectedly tender. The lines of his face soften, making the acting feel less like an act.

We’re mid-pose when Mingyu decides to speak. “You know, you’re not as bad at this as I thought you’d be,” he says, his voice just loud enough for me to hear.

I raise an eyebrow, still maintaining my “loving” gaze for the photographer. "What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Just that maybe we should fake date more often. You’re adorable when you’re pretending.”

I falter, the smile slipping slightly. “Watch it, Mingyu.”

==

The hours pass and the shoot finally wraps. We receive a round of applause for our “chemistry,” and Mingyu pulls me into a side hug, his hand resting on my shoulder. Pretending becomes so much easier with each click of the camera.

“Good job today,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with genuine warmth.

For a moment, I almost forget we’re pretending. Almost.

“We pulled it off, didn’t we?” I muse, pressing my temple against his arm briefly before pulling away.

“Yeah,” he admits, his eyes locking onto mine. “We make a pretty good team, Y/N.”

Something in his gaze makes my heart stutter. It feels like he’s trying to say more, like he’s testing unfamiliar waters.

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it. This is still a temporary arrangement.” I remind myself more than him, with a fleeting half-smile.

==

Weeks roll by, and the line between fiction and reality starts to blur. Mingyu and I are inseparable, seen at award shows, interviews, seen leaving our "shared" house, and even the occasional late-night ramen shop. The media loves us. Fans dub us “the power couple of the decade.”

One evening, as we rehearse a choreographed routine for an upcoming awards show performance, the tension boils over. Mingyu’s patience breaks first.

“Y/N, you’re a step behind!” he snaps, frustration evident as he stops mid-spin. “We’ve done this a thousand times, what’s going on with you?”

Anger flares in my chest. “I’m sorry if I'm not perfect like you, okay?”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “It’s not about being perfect, it’s about working together!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” I shout back, breathless. “This whole thing...it's draining, Mingyu. Maybe fake dating wasn't the best idea after all. Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” he challenges, stepping closer. “Maybe we should just end it? Announce it was all a prank?”

The space between us crackles with unspoken words, and I take a small step back, my chest heaving. “Maybe.”

His eyes search mine, the anger simmering into something else entirely—something raw and real. “And what if I don’t want it to end?”

Time stands still as his words hang in the air. The intensity in his gaze makes my heart race for an entirely different reason.

“What exactly are you saying?” I finally ask, needing clarity even if it feels terrifying.

He takes a deep breath, before lifting my head with his thumb on my chin and two under. “I’m saying...I don’t think this was ever just fake for me. And I don’t want it to be.”

My breath catches. Neither of us moves. The air feels charged and heavy with possibility.

“Me neither,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper, finally understanding the depth of my feelings.

A slow, almost relieved smile spreads across his face, and he reaches for my hand, linking our fingers together much like the first time we “acted” in love. Only now, it feels unforced, genuine.

The journey to real from fake has been messy, fraught with disagreements and tension, but standing here, looking into his eyes, I realize it was worth every moment.

“Looks like we’ve got a new script to follow,” Mingyu murmurs, his thumb caressing the back of my hand.

I smile, leaning into the comforting warmth of his presence. “Yeah, and this time, we don’t have to pretend.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[ninjatrashpanda]

The Other Shoe (Waiting for it to drop)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Today's prompt is "Coming Out Scenes!"

Read it on AO3 here.

“I, uh, I think it’s time to face the music,” Buck whispered, tugging on Tommy’s sleeve. His eyes wandered over to his parents, who had watched him and Tommy like hawks throughout the entire reception, though Buck had a hard time predicting what they were thinking. On one hand, therapy had been going well, and while The Buckleys would probably never be the big happy family Buck had wished for as a kid, Mom and Dad were trying. They had been nothing but supportive about him being Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor last year, and Buck would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a pang of appreciation when they had stood up for him against Chimney’s father and stepmother.

On the other hand, well, these were his parents, and old fears die hard. While they had apologized for how they had treated him and Maddie and become better, there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him they’d just be disappointed again. The fact that his mother hadn’t managed to get rid of the bewildered look on her face since he had dragged Tommy into Chimney’s hospital room didn’t help.

“Should I be scared?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck chuckled, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale. He stole another glance at his parents, then shifted his gaze to the floor, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust. “Nah,” he said, though he admittedly wasn’t even able to convince himself of that. “Not scared. Just... prepared.”

Tommy followed Buck’s gaze across the room, where Buck’s parents stood stiffly by a wall, half-empty champagne flutes clutched tightly in their hands. Buck knew they had been mingling just a few minutes ago, but he still couldn’t help but feel that they looked, well, out of place. While they were nothing but polite, they didn’t really mesh with anyone else, and always seemed a little awkward.

“They don’t seem like they bite,” Tommy observed, in that casual, dry tone Buck had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks. In an instant, a part of his anxiety evaporated and bubbled to the surface in a barely held back snort.

“Not literally, no.” Buck ran a hand through his hair with a shake of his head, the slight smile Tommy had brought to his face staying on his face. “It’s just... history, you know? They’re trying, and I get that, I do. But sometimes it’s like...” He trailed off with a shrug, struggling to find the right words. “It’s like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tommy nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze Buck’s. Buck had told him the basics, how Maddie had practically raised him, how their parents had been neglectful and controlling. He vaguely knew about Daniel, too, though Buck hadn’t delved into the whole Savior Baby thing yet. The subject was…touchy, to say the least, and while he knew he had to breach it at some point, he wanted Tommy to have as neutral an opinion on his parents as possible. They were putting in the effort, so Buck figured they deserved that much.

“Well,” Tommy said, squeezing Buck’s hand again, a bit firmer this time, “if things get weird, you’ve got me for backup. Just say the word, and I’ll distract them with my fake mouth static.”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, which surprised even himself. Tommy had a knack for diffusing tension, and Buck was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he had gravitated toward him in the first place. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand, drawing strength from the contact, before letting go and straightening up.

“Good idea. You’re renowned for your fake mouth static after all.”

“Damn right I am.”

They stood there for a moment, neither quite willing to take the first step towards the inevitable conversation. The reception was starting to wind down, (because the nurses were kicking people out now) so at least if this developed into a scene, not too many people would end up seeing. Chimney, now recovering well after the whole viral encephalitis debacle, was in high spirits, chatting animatedly with Hen and Karen. Maddie was close by his side, smiling brighter than he had ever seen, seemingly refusing to let go of her new husband’s arm.

The love between them gave Buck a tiny surge of courage. If Maddie and Chimney could find happiness after everything they had been through, then maybe things could work out with his and Maddie’s parents too.

“Alright,” Buck said, straightening his posture, bracing himself for impact. “Let’s do this.”

They crossed the room together, Tommy a step behind Buck, offering silent support. Buck’s parents straightened as he approached, their faces neutral masks. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and Buck could hardly blame them for that.

“Hi,” Buck said, forcing a smile. “You probably have a few questions.”

His mother’s eyes softened, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in them. His father cleared his throat, his grip on the champagne flute tightening just slightly. The atmosphere was stiff, and the air felt thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Hi, Buck,” his mother replied, her voice wavering just a bit. Buck was actually (positively) surprised that she used his nickname, though he had to admit it sounded almost foreign in her voice. “Yes, we, uh…” She glanced at his father, who nodded, urging her to continue. “We do have some questions, but—”

“We don’t want to push,” his father interjected, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re just… trying to understand.”

Buck nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. They weren’t throwing accusations and bad faith arguments around, so that was a good start. Still, Buck knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. He hadn’t spoken about the big B yet, after all.

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite outgrown. “I figured. And, uh, it’s okay to ask. I know this is… a lot.”

He could see the moment his mother tried to put on a brave face, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were surprised, that’s all,” she said. “When you came into the room with…”

She trailed off, her eyes moving over Buck’s shoulder to where he knew Tommy stood just a foot or two behind him. He took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had thought about it for weeks at this point, had said it out loud to himself in the mirror, but not to anybody else, not even Maddie or Tommy.

“Tommy.” He turned slightly, reaching out his hand out to Tommy, who took it into his own with a smile as he stepped up. “Mom, Dad, this is Tommy Kinard. He’s my date. He, uh… he’s the reason I figured out that I’m bisexual.”

The words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Buck could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears almost deafening. He knew this moment was pivotal (one of the most important in his life, probably) and the weight of it pressed down on him like the world on Atlas’ shoulders.

His parents exchanged glances, and Buck could see an onslaught of emotions flitting across their faces: surprise, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of something that could be hope. His mother’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, and his father took a small step closer to her.

Tommy, for his part, stayed by Buck’s side, his presence a quiet but powerful anchor. He gave Buck’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise that he was here, and that he wouldn’t leave. Buck was grateful for that; it reminded him that no matter what was going to happen, he wasn’t alone.

His mother was the first to speak. “Bisexual,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Her brow furrowed slightly, but there was no trace of anger or disappointment in her tone. Instead, she seemed...curious. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”

Buck could see his father’s jaw tighten momentarily before he let out a slow breath. “Buck,” he began, his voice careful, deliberate. “This is…this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that we’re listening. We’re trying to understand.”

Buck nodded. This wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t exactly acceptance either, not yet, at least. Still, it was something, and in this moment, something was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a lot,” Buck said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to get it all at once. I only figured it out a few weeks ago, too. I just wanted you to know, because…because it’s who I am. And Tommy… he’s important to me.”

His mother’s eyes softened at that, and Buck could see her shifting, recalibrating her thoughts, trying to process this new piece of information about her son. “Tommy,” she said, as if tasting the name for the first time. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and there was something in her gaze that was almost…gentle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, his usual confidence replaced by an almost shy nervousness. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Buckley. And Mr. Buckley,” he added, nodding respectfully toward Buck’s father.

Buck’s father gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained unreadable. “Tommy,” he repeated, his voice a bit more measured. “You’re… Buck’s boyfriend?”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. Obviously that question would come up. He should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. He and Tommy hadn’t even really had that conversation. He’d certainly like for Tommy to be his boyfriend, he just wasn’t sure if Tommy was at that point yet. It had only been a few weeks after all. They had been on four dates, one of which was a complete disaster, and another that hadn’t even been a date at first, but an apology for the date that had been a complete disaster.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, his tone steady. “I’m his boyfriend. And I know this might be surprising, but Evan…he means a lot to me. I care about him.”

Buck’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Tommy to say it outright. He had expected a lighthearted “Not yet” or “We’re seeing each other.” That he’d gone right ahead… Buck’s heart swelled just a little bit. He squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter, grateful beyond words. Tommy’s answer made Buck just a little braver.

Finally, his mother spoke again. “I…I see,” she said, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. She looked at Buck, her eyes searching his, as if trying to reconcile the son she knew with these new things she was learning about him. “And you… you’re happy?”

Buck felt a lump rise in his throat. It was such a simple question, but it carried so much baggage. She wasn’t asking if he was happy with Tommy. She was asking if he was happy with himself, something that would’ve been absolutely unthinkable just three years ago.

“I am,” Buck replied, his voice growing more assured. “I’m happy, Mom. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

His mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision within herself. She reached out then, tentatively, her hand hovering in the air for a moment before she placed it on Buck’s arm. “That’s all we want, Buck,” she whispered, her voice wavering a little. “We just want you to be happy.”

His father, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat again. “It’s…a lot to adjust to,” he admitted, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But if this is who you are, and if this man makes you happy, then…well, we’ll do our best to understand.”

Buck felt a surge of relief wash over him, so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was something. Something good. It was yet another step toward healing their relationship, and for that, he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for not, like, freaking out.”

His father gave a small nod, and his mother’s hand tightened on his arm, a silent reassurance that they were, in fact, trying. Tommy smiled and wrapped his arm around Buck’s shoulders, Buck leaning into his side almost automatically, enjoying the warmth of their connection.

His mother glanced over at Tommy, her expression softening further. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner before we fly back to Hershey, Tommy,” she said, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “We’d like to get to know you better.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the invitation, and Buck didn’t blame him. It was already unusual that Tommy had met his parents this early, but getting invited to family dinner? That was big. “I’d love to, Mrs. Buckley. Thank you.”

Buck’s father gave a curt nod, not quite ready to add anything further, but his stance had relaxed just a little. There was still a long way to go, a lot of conversations to be had, but in that moment, Buck knew they were moving in the right direction.

As the reception continued to wind down, Buck stood there with Tommy by his side, his parents before him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a cautious sense of optimism. The journey ahead would be challenging, there was no doubt about that, but they were all still here, still trying, and that was more than Buck could have hoped for when he first approached them.

As they exchanged a few more words, lighter now, less fraught with tension, Buck realized that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Not just acceptance, but the willingness to grow, to move forward together. And maybe that was enough to help the wounds of the past heal.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Punching bag

A/N: Well, I am channeling my frustration for the day into this fic, similar to Y/N channeling hers to our favourite boy. Enjoy!

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut. Tony being the best boyfriend.

.

“You can take it out on me.”

He had said, sensing your crabby mood as you threw your gym bag angrily against the bench, letting out a huff. As tempting as the offer was, it wasn’t fair to channel your anger towards your boyfriend as he wasn’t the source.

So you stuck to your trusted punching bag. It worked, for a while. Soon you felt your anger return and the poor punching bag threatened to give way. You needed to blow off some steam before you could face the world today.

Finding Tony in the boxing ring with Happy, you waited for him to be done, trying your best take a few cleansing breaths in attempts to calm down. Your gaze was fixed on the floor when you realised he had sent Happy away and was kneeling in front of you with worried eyes.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it. Fancy a match?” He suggested, pulling you in the ring when you didn’t protest.

After a few rounds, you weren’t feeling it and he picked it up, like he always did. He was too sharp. That is when he suggested you take your frustration out on him.

The kiss you shared was all teeth and tongue as your lips crashed together, the intensity took him by surprise but he welcomed it. Letting you take the lead, Tony laid back against the soft padded floor and took you with him.

Straddling his lap, you began grinding your hips against his crotch, feeling him getting hard under you and your lips trailed down his stubbled jaw. Tony gripped your hips to encourage your movements, matching your intensity but silently letting you know that you were the boss.

Your body ignited with desire, flushing out the anger that was boiling just minutes ago and you craved his touch, you needed this and were glad he was willing to give you everything. In a flurry of movement, you discarded your sweats but kept your panties on, using the friction in your favour until his cock was straining against his sweatpants, eager to serve you.

Little pants and moans left Tony’s lips as you freed him and gave him a few pumps with your hand before sliding your underwear to a side to gather your wetness on his tip.

You let out a hiss as you sank down on his ample length, letting the stretch that bordered on pain take over, you really needed this. Wasting no time, you began moving your hips while anchoring your hands on his shoulders, letting him kiss your neck with wanton need.

Tony’s cock brushed all the right spots inside your tight heat while his lips attacked your sweaty skin, fuelling the fire that now burned deep within. You weren’t too far along as your ministrations continued, making your legs twitch signalling him that you were getting there.

“That’s it, baby. Take what’s yours.”

His words spurred you on, making you push him onto his back and ride him harder than before. Tony’s lust blown eyes watched as you brought yourself closer to the edge, aiding you by meeting your thrusts halfway, squeezing your sides before bringing a hand to your bundle of nerves.

“I’m close, Tony..” you whispered, your eyes shut in pleasure as you felt him rub your clit just the way you liked, bringing you right where you wanted to be. Your muscles clenched as did your walls, making him grunt. On days like these, bringing you pleasure was what satisfied Tony.

You came with a loud cry, your legs shaking as you gushed over his length before falling against him, your heart hammering inside your chest. Watching you come undone was probably one of his favourite visuals. He smiled as he caressed your back, littering your face with soft kisses as you floated back to reality.

“I think you might be my favourite punching bag.” You grinned, placing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Honey, you can use me whenever you want. I’m all yours to relish and ruin.”

[firenati0n]

hello friends :) i am so sorry i have been...so behind on all things tag games and writing challenges. i have been riding the struggle bus and i am Doing My Best but a lot of things have suffered in the meantime, like writing consistently. thank you so much for continuing to tag me in these, it means a lot that people think of me or read my work. i will always be grateful for my friends and readers and everyone who shows me kindness. anyway, many thanks as always! <3 much love for y'all.

i have been posting random prompt fics and drabbles here and there, while slowly updating people ruin people as inspiration strikes. I also made a fun graphic for proposal au and people ruin people! i hope to get back into the swing of things soon. not rushing it though, because rest is important. but i don't do well with stillness, you know? I'm not used to that. but i hope y'all have enjoyed the random words in recent weeks! i have written some things I'm very proud of and happy with in the prompt collection especially. and people ruin people is truly a stretch of my writing muscles...I'm not used to angst. but it's fun! it's hard, too. but so far people have been very kind about it!

here's a long snip from a flufftober prompt for ingredients and spells, it will be a little sequel / extension of the kiki's delivery service au / warlock!henry and baker!alex i posted a while back!

Henry is eight, and he can’t sleep.  The trees outside are too big, their shadows too scary in his window as the wind makes the branches thump against the glass. He rubs at his eyes before digging his head in his pillow again, hoping sleep claims him. From underneath his door, light filters in from the hallway—his mother is probably in the kitchen, grinding herbs and ingredients for her potions.  If there’s anyone who can help him, it’s her. “Oh, my little love,” she says, when Henry walks into the kitchen, knowing he looks as miserable as he feels. “Are we having trouble sleeping?” He nods. “I have just the thing.” She flits around, grabbing leaves and powders from the cupboard to grind before mixing everything in a pot. The smell of chamomile and honey fills the kitchen, warm and comforting.  She pours the potion into two mugs and hands one to Henry with a soft smile. “This should help, my darling. Here, I’ll drink it with you.” They both sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Henry can already feel the magical effects of the brew in his body, limbs starting to sag, head feeling heavy. His eyelids flutter, and Catherine notices.  “Up we go,” she says, before putting the mugs in the sink and scooping Henry up in her arms. He is warm, and he is safe, and he is sleepy.  After he’s all tucked in, duvet up to his chin, he sneaks an arm out to clutch his mother’s shirt as she moves to get off the bed.  “Please,” he pleads quietly. "Not yet." She settles in next to him, slender fingers carding through his hair as she hums. He drifts off, the smell of tea and honey blanketing him. He never learns what was in the brew. Catherine calls it her secret recipe, just for Henry. 

xoxo roop

+ open tag + tagging back everyone who got me in the past few weeks. it's been a while afjslkdjfklasdf

@seths-rogens @sherryvalli @sophie1973 @orchidscript @cha-melodius

@whimsymanaged @kiwiana-writes @alasse9 @porcelainmortal @wordsofhoneydew

@firstprincehornyramblings @run-for-chamo-miles @miharaikko @blueeyedgrlwrites @onthewaytosomewhere

@cultofsappho @ninzied @sparklepocalypse @clottedcreamfudge @zwiazdziarka

@clockwrkpendrxgon @milowren29 @thesleepyskipper @msmarvelouswinchester @caterpills

@suseagull04 @judasofsuburbia @getmehighonmagic @onward--upward @stellarmeadow

@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @miss-minnelli @thedramasummer @priincebutt

@incalamity @stratocumulusperlucidus @leaves-of-laurelin @14carrotghoul @anincompletelist

[ripdragonbeans]

Not Him, I Swear // Modern!Aegon x Reader // Pt. 3

Summary: You go on your second date with Aegon and it ends up being much more fun that you anticipated.

CW: afab reader, profanity, eventual smut, Aegon being an ass, oh but he has feelings??????

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The next few days were filled with cute texts and fluffy dates. Aegon respected your wishes and didn't push you to go any further than a make out session. It drove you crazy; you wanted him but you were scared. As much as you wanted to forget all the pain Jason caused you, it was something that stayed. It tainted your views of love, something that can be hard to make new. 

Aegon seemed too good to be true.

But you swallowed your fears and pushed on with your relationship with him. 

“Hey, man!” Cregan strolled into the room. “How's our bet going? Is she begging for you yet?” He plopped himself down next to Aegon and put his feet on the table.

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he murmured. “No, she's not begging yet, but I'll get there.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Gods, I almost feel bad.”

Cregan’s eyebrow rose. “Bad? Don't tell me that my best friend is actually catching feelings for someone.”

“No, I'm not catching feelings for anyone.” Aegon got up to grab another beer; his third one already, and it was barely noon.

“The way you talk about her says differently.”

“I haven't talked about her.”

“Not obviously, of course. At any mention of the bet or anything, you tense up. Something’s going on in that head.”

“Whatever, Cregan,” Aegon muttered. “Since you're so focused on annoying me, I'm gonna go to my room.” He gave his friend a mocking wave before leaving the living room to his own.

He put his head in his hands and let out a groan. He couldn't be catching feelings, he shouldn't be falling for her. But he is. 

The way she smiles. The way her eyes light up. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear. It's like looking into a bright light and being engulfed in its warmth. 

But he had to do this. He needed to prove that he could have anyone he wanted. If not to himself, then to his friend. As shallow as it was, he wanted to follow through. He hoped she wouldn't hate him in the end. 

“Hel, I really can't believe it,” you gushed. “I know you said not to get too involved with him but he's already so much better than Jason!” 

You plopped down on the couch, closed your eyes, and stretched. The wonderful feeling of being loved say well inside your heart. Despite the aching fears and the anxiety that comes along after being cheated on, the feeling of being loved triumphed ever just a tiny bit. 

“I wouldn't go ahead and say that, bestie. Please, be on your guard. You know all the stories, all the rumors, and I can even testify for some of them.” Helaena held your hands and looked you in the eye. “Be careful, please.”

A voice came from the hallway. “Yeah, what she said.” Jace walked over to the two of you sitting on the couch. He wore a grim expression on his face. “I don't mean to hurt you but I've heard that he's just trying to get you to sleep with him, all for some bet.”

Your heart sank at the thought but you pushed it aside.

“Very funny, Jace,” you said. “But I don't need that negativity in my life.”

“It's not negativity if it's true.” He looked at you with pity in his eyes. 

You shook off the expression and took a deep breath. “Why can't you two just be happy for me?” 

Helaena squeezed the hand she was holding. “We're happy for you, we just want you to be careful. We hate to see you hurt.”

“It's a risk, isn't it? All relationships are. I know Aegon and I will either end up together forever or eventually break up. It's up to us, not you two, but me and Aegon, how bad that ending will be.”

Helaena huffed. “Okay, I'll drop it. For now.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you.” You turned to address both Jace and Helaena. “Now, would you two like to know what's happening next?”

“As hesitant as I am, yes,” Helaena said. 

Jace nodded his head in agreement.

You pulled out your phone to read the text messages between you and Aegon.

“Our next date is a movie!” You announced.

There was a beat of silence before Jace broke it. “A movie? Isn't that a little cliche?”

You frowned at him. “Shut up, it's something.”

“What movie are you guys gonna catch?” Helaena cut in. 

“Oh! Um…” you bowed your head in embarrassment and mumbled your answer.

“I'm sorry? What was that?” Jace leaned in. A knowing smirk graced his lips.

You mumbled your answer again, but a little louder.

“Bestie, I still can't hear you!” 

“Shrek 2.” 

You look up in shame. The judgment you feel from them was too much.

“...I'm sorry, did you just say Shrek 2?” Clarified Jace.

“It's the best one!”

Helena laughed. “Considering it's you and Aegon, it makes sense. Weird choice, but yeah.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, time to get you date ready!”

“‘Date ready?’ Hel, I’ve got five hours until I have to leave. I have time.”

“For what I have planned for you? Nope, five hours is just enough time for me and Jace to get you set.”

Jace froze hearing his name. “Me? What do I have to do?”

“Shut up, you're moral support,” Helaena rolled her eyes in amusement. “Now, let's go.”

Helaena offered you her hand but you hesitated slightly. What if this is just a plot to convince you to not go? But when you looked at your friends all you could see was the love they had for you.

“Alright, let's get this started,” you smiled.

Four hours later had you sitting in a chair with your back straight and a mirror behind you. 

“Annnnnd done!” Helaena turned your chair around so you could see yourself.

You took in the image, your hair all done nicely, your facial features enhanced, all of it. You couldn't help the smile that made its way.

“Helaena,” you started, “my gods, you did an amazing job!” 

You turned toward Jace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch. 

“Yeah,” he said between handfuls of chips, “you look great. Aegon is gonna shit himself.” 

“I don't know about that,” you rolled your eyes. “He's been with a shit ton of other girls before me, I doubt I'm the prettiest.”

A hand smacked your head. 

“No. You're the hottest he's ever been with and will only be with for the rest of your lives.”

“Wow, and I thought you were dead set on me not being with him.”

“Only to protect you! But,” she sighed, “if this is how it goes then he better not break your heart. He does that. I'll chop up his dick in his sleep.”

“Yeah, and I'll fuck up his face,” Jace added.

You laughed at your friends, your heart full. “You two are so extra.”

“It's called being best friends,” Jace said as he joined you and Helaena at the mirror. 

Looking at the three of you, you thought of all the trials you've been through. All the heartbreak, the laughs, the highs and the lows. Without them who knows what you would be like. You interlocked your hands with both of them and leaned back.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you guys, but I'm grateful for you two and love you.”

Beep beep!

The sound of the honking car was quickly followed by a text. You picked up your phone and couldn't stop the smile. Of course Aegon would do this. As you readied yourself to leave the apartment, you did one last look in the mirror. 

You were happy with how you looked; all dolled up for the date. Just enough to be enticing but not so much in your face. With a pep in your step, you made your way to the front door. 

Aegon’s eyes went wide when he saw you. “You look…”

You nodded for him to continue.

“Amazing. You look amazing.” Aegon flashed you a big smile.

“You don't look too bad yourself,” you replied as you got in the car.

Aegon’s car was messy but it could be a lot worse. Luckily the trash wasn't food trash but rather random papers and receipts that were strewn across the floor and the back seat. It also smelled vaguely of weed.

“You smoke?” You asked him.

Aegon pulled out of the driveway. “Yeah, and I vape every now and then if I want a flavor or something. You?” 

“I've been curious about it but no, I haven't done either.”

“Wanna try? We can pull over and I can roll you a joint.”

A smile crept onto your face. There were butterflies in your stomach but you were excited to take the plunge.

Once Aegon pulled over into an unmarked parking lot, he pulled out the weed, the paper, and lighter. He was careful to roll the joint nicely for you. Once he finished he looked at his work and gave you a smile. “Ta-da! One joint rolled for my kitten.”

“Okay, cool. I can do this.” You told yourself.

Aegon looked at you with concern. “You don't have to smoke if you don't want to.”

“No, but I really want to.”

“Okay.” He nodded his head. “I'll light it. Then all you have to do is inhale through your mouth, hold it for a bit then exhale through your mouth. Simple.”

“Simple. Right.”

“Okay, here we go.”

Aegon lit it then brought the joint up to your mouth. You gently wrapped your lips around the tip and you did as he said. 

Inhale.

You felt the smoke fill your mouth.

Hold.

You let it sit and go down your throat.

Exhale.

A puff of smoke flew out of your mouth.

As a calming sensation sprinkled through your body you have Aegon a relaxed smile.

“You feeling okay?” Aegon asked you 

You laughed a bit. “Yeah, I feel good.”

Aegon took a drag from the joint himself. “Wanna get high before we watch the movie?”

“Hell yeah.”

Before heading off to the movie theater, you and Aegon shared the joint. It didn't take long for you to get high but Aegon finished it off. He was careful not to get higher than just having a buzz since he was driving. The rest of the ride was filled with you babbling about everything and nothing. Aegon smiled and let you go on. 

Arriving at the theater, you let out a little giggle. “I'm so excited for this, Aegon.” You slurred his name.

“Yeah.” He couldn't stop himself from smiling at you. Getting out of the car, he circled around to open the passenger door. “Time to get out, kitten.”

You giggled again. “I like that you call me kitten. It's cute and it kinda turns me on.”

Aegon gulped down a breath. “That's great; time to see the movie.”

Letting go of Aegon’s hand, you put both of yours on his chest. “I wanna be with you.”

He pushed your hands down and kept them firmly in his. Aegon looked you in the eye. “And we will but not like this. I want you to be sober when I take you.”

You huffed. “Okay.”

Finally getting you to step out of the car, Aegon went back to only holding one hand as he led you through the parking lot and into the theater.

“Mmm I want popcorn and an Icee,” you said as soon as you walked in. The smell of popcorn immediately surrounded you.

“I'll get you popcorn and a water,” Aegon said.

You stamped your foot. “But I want an Icee!”

He tugged on your hand to get you to look at him. “Kitten, you need water. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Another giggle escaped you.

After buying popcorn and water, Aegon led the way to your numbered theater to watch Shrek 2. At first you wanted to sit up front but he pulled you away to the rows in the back.

“No one needs to know you're high,” he said as you made your way up the stairs. 

“But you know I'm high,” you observed.

“I'm the one that got you high, kitten.”

“Oh, yeah.”

As you sat down in your chair, all you could think about was getting as close to Aegon as possible. Thankfully, these were the newer, fancier theater chairs. You reclined your chair and moved the armrest out of the way so you could lean on Aegon.

“You and popcorn,” you said as you snuggled up to him. “The best combination ever.”

“Don't forget Shrek.”

“And Shrek.”

Aegon kissed the top of your head as the lights went down and the movie began.

While Shrek 2 was already one of the funniest moments of all time, watching it high made it even funnier.

“Prince Charming looks like Jason,” you whispered, eyes wide. “I bet his dick is small like Jason’s, too.”

Aegon choked on his water. He stole a look at you but all he saw was a girl high as fuck while watching Shrek 2. Gods, he wanted to kiss you then and there.

The movie continued with your constant one liners about how everything in Shrek related to something or someone in your life. Somehow you were Shrek, Fiona was Aegon (which he was happy about), Donkey was Helaena, and Puss in Boots was Jace. To you, it all made sense. To Aegon, it was simply blabbering that entertained him.

As the credits rolled on the screen, you lolled your head against Aegon’s shoulder once again. “I’m tired, Aeg.”

“You’re coming down from your high, kitten,” he assured you. “Time to get up and head home.”

“I don’t wanna move.” You slunk down in your seat.

Aegon laughed. “They’re gonna kick us out anyway if you don’t get up. What if I helped you?”

You held out both arms. “Yes, please.”

Aegon moved to stand in front of you to pull you up. Instead of letting go, however, he tucked you into his side. Together, you made your way out of the movie theater.

“Can we go to your place?” you asked him as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“No, I’m going to drop you off at my sister’s.”

All of a sudden you wanted to cry. “Why? Do you not like me?”

“That’s not it. You’re high and I’m going to take care of you.”

Your mood instantly switched. “I’d love for you to take care of me.” Heat began pooling in your belly while you placed a hand on his thigh.

Reluctantly, Aegon moved your hand off of him. “Not like that. I’m going to be responsible this one time and take you back to Helaena’s.”

“Come on, be irrisp, irrrrsp, irrisponble this one time.”

“If you want to be in my bed you’re going to have to be sober, kitten.”

You crossed your arms. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“I know, what a bore.” He turned into the driveway. “Time to go.” He walked over to your side to open the door and walk you to the front. “I loved tonight.”

“I love you too, Aegon,” you yawned.

Aegon stopped, stunned. “I think you mean you loved tonight.”

You hummed. “No, I love you.”

He nodded his head, mouth slightly agape, as he took you Helaena’s room. When he knocked on the door Helaena popped out.

Her eyes instantly went to you, leaning all your weight on Aegon. “What did you do?!”

Aegon shrugged. “She wanted to get high so I let her. I only got buzzed but she is definitely high.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“It’s loud,” you moaned. “And bright.”

“Gods, get her in here.” Helaena motioned for Aegon to bring you into the room.

Immediately, you went for the bed and flopped down. Aegon was careful as he tucked you in. Helanea watched in awe of how sweet he was being to you. As soon as you drifted off to sleep, Helaena took Aegon into the hallway to talk.

“Have you been like this all night?” she questioned.

“You mean like the wonderful gentleman I am? Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so kind to her?”

He shrugged. “What can I say, Hel. I like her.”

“No, when you like girls you just charm them and then fuck them. This is the second date you’ve gone on with her. Something is up.”

Aegon ran his hand down his face. “Let me do this, just once, let me be the good guy.”

Helaena looked at him warily. “Fine. But if you do anything to hurt her, I will personally destroy your life.”

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Nineteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut | NSFW | Spice Level : A LOT (if you prefer to not read warnings this is your chance to scroll away, otherwise read the warnings besties xoxo)

Unprotected Sex (consensual! wrap it up at home, folks!) Oral (f&m receiving) Soft Dom/Sub vibes- they switch off, Mirrors are involved, Pet names used, Hand kink briefly, Praise Kink (YEAHHH), FOUL language, Shower scene (some smut involved in there too), and obviously- fluff, sweet, precious, wholesome things that'll wake up the butterflies.

Word Count: 5k 😈

Summary: After a day together in Salem, they have the apartment to themselves for a bit.. so why not take advantage?

Author's Note: I think you'll agree- we ALL deserved this chapter. Strap in, it's a spicy one. Get your sweat towel and have a water ready! (That's so dramatic) But for real- this chapter is sexy as hell and maybe.. there's something important in it, but that's neither here nor there 👀 Happy Thursday! 💕

To Be Alone - Hozier "Honey, when you kill the lights, and kiss my eyes, I feel like a person for a moment of my life."

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“You’re full of surprises today; why don’t you decide, babe?”

Babe– the sound of it playing on a loop in my head. 

“If you keep calling me that, I’ll give you endless attention,” I mumble against her lips. 

She presses a soft kiss into me before letting out, “Mmm, babe.” 

I hum back, “Mhmm.” 

“What about baby?” she asks sweetly. Lifting her onto the counter and standing between her legs, I let my hands sit on either side of her. 

I mumble back, “That also works.” Holding eye contact but looking down at her lips a few times. Leaning back in to leave a few pecks on her before going back to my part-time job of staring at her. 

“I already know that Captain gets you going,” she giggles. I can feel the blood rush into my face. I don’t know why it works, but it does. 

“What are you trying to do here?” I cock an eyebrow up at her as I ask. 

She pouts her lip, “Oh, are you not enjoying it, daddy?”

“God,” I groan, my head falling back for a second. “You’re asking for it now.”

“Mmm, yes, Jake, I am,” she almost sounds like she’s moaning. If I weren’t trying to keep it together, I’m pretty sure my eyes would have rolled into the back of my head at that. 

Grabbing the edges of my shirt, she pulled me in, and her lips felt desperate. Her teeth lightly tugged at my bottom lip, and I sighed at the feeling. She lets her arms drape over my shoulders, relishing in the feeling of her lips on mine. The way she goes out of her way to kiss my top lip before smiling into me. 

“Hey, you,” I whisper, letting my eyes wander to hers. 

Her sweet smile as we make eye contact, “Hi, handsome.” 

Her hands found their place, holding my jaw, pressing kiss after kiss into me. I pull her hips into me, letting her legs wrap around my waist as I lift her off the counter. 

Struggling to walk straight, I push my bedroom door open with my foot, kicking it shut behind me. Her legs start to slide down me, so I help her stand back up. She spins us around, backing me up to the edge of the bed. She lightly pushed my chest once my legs hit my bed frame, I quickly sat down for her. She grabs my shoulders and straddles my lap; I look up at her while she hovers above me.  Letting her take control is the most lethal thing for me.

She finally brings her face back down to mine; something about how she’s kissing me makes my heart flutter.

 Her hands slid under my shirt, pushing it up. I pull it off quickly, watching her eyes drop to my chest before her hands slowly creep up my stomach until her arms are around my neck. The lower she sits on me, the further up her skirt goes. I tug on the bottom so she sits up, unzipping the side to easily slide it off.

She sits back on my lap with just her tights covering her legs; I can see the dainty black thong she has on underneath, and something about being able to see it through the tights is making me sweat. 

The feeling of her lips against my throat as her hands unbuttoned my pants. The sound of my zipper felt loud as hell in the moment. 

“Stand up for me,” I finally tell her. 

I slide off my pants, tossing them towards my closet. Standing up with her in front of me, I grab the hem of her sweater, pull it over her head, and set it behind me on the bed. I sit on the end of my bed, pulling her towards me but spinning her to face the mirror. My hands hold her hips; I bring her down onto my lap. Pressing kisses into her shoulder. I slide my hands around her, hugging her, feeling her skin against mine. She runs her hands up my arms a little and tilts her head into mine. 

I keep one arm wrapped around her waist and move the other to slide down her thigh. Dancing my fingers along the inside of her leg, pulling them apart. Hooking her knee over mine, spreading her open. I look up into the mirror, meeting her stare. 

The hand holding her waist slid up, toying with the edge of her bra. Tugging it down slightly, watching the way her breast drops subtly. The small glimmer of her piercing makes my cock twitch underneath her. Gently, my fingers roll her already peaked nipple between them. Her head dropped back onto my shoulder at the feeling. 

I undo the clasp of her bra, watching the straps immediately slide down her arms a little. She pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor. Looking back into the mirror, all that’s left are the tights and her thong. We quietly hold eye contact through the mirror as I slide one of my hands up her thigh. 

“Watch how pretty you look when I touch you,” I whisper to her as I drag my fingers up the inside of her thigh, letting them slide in between her legs. She’s already trying to shift at the small amount of contact, so I add pressure as I pull my hand up the center of her. I linger over that sweet, sensitive spot that makes her squirm.

“Mmm, babe,” sneaks out of her. “Please.”

Teasing her a little by just adding a bit of pressure through her tights, slowly working her clit. I watch her in the mirror, her nipples peaked, her hands unsure of what to do right now. My free hand finds one of hers, holding it as my arm lays across her waist. 

She grabs my hand and moves it to her stomach, lifting the fabric of her thong slightly and guiding me to where she wants me. Feeling how wet she already is, sweet girl. 

“Jacob,” she whines. “I need you.”

The sweetest sound I could hear. 

“This isn’t enough?” I tease. I watched her reaction in the mirror but felt her hand tighten around mine. 

Pouting, she looks at me, “Baby.”

I sunk my middle finger into her, getting a delicious little moan out of her. I was curling it up, finding the right spot, and listening to how wet she got from it. Her breathing getting a bit louder. The way she’s shifting against me, it’s hard to deny the state I’m in. The hottest girl I’ve ever been with, writhing on my lap because of what my hand is doing– yes, I’m hard. 

I slow my hand down just to see what happens; her mouth drops open for a second as she looks at me. 

“I’ll let you come,” I mumble into her ear. “Just not yet.” 

My middle and ring finger slid into her, pulling a gasp out of her. I start pumping them into her quickly, curling them up and making her moan louder. Feeling her unravel in my lap, she’s so hot, Jesus Christ. 

I can feel her starting to flutter around me, and I lean into her ear again. “Almost, sweet girl.” 

She just whines in response. 

Letting go of her hand, I slide it down, rubbing her clit quickly. Her mouth is hung open, and her eyes are shut; I can feel how close she is.

“Open your eyes, hun,” I whisper. “Come for me.” 

Her eyes lock with mine when she gasps; I can feel her tighten around my fingers. Her string of ‘oh fuck’ and ‘yes baby’s ringing in the air. 

She slumps back against me once she’s come down, her body warm against me. I held her close for a minute, and she pressed her face under my chin. Leaving little kisses along my jaw. 

She whispers, “Wanna see how pretty I look with your cock in my mouth?” 

“Holy shit, Char,” comes out faster than I can think. She’s moving off my lap before I can say anything else, sitting on her knees in front of me. Her hands run up my thighs as she looks up at me. I could come just from the look in her eyes.

She hooks her fingers into the waistband of my boxers, pulling them down far enough for my cock to be freed. Quickly wrapping her lips around me, feeling her tongue swirl around, and I can’t stop the moans from coming out. 

I feel her hand slide up my chest for a second; she leaves it on my shoulder when she pulls back from me. 

Tapping my lip lightly, she looks up at me with those green eyes and whispers, “Open, baby.” My mouth falls open at her request; she slides two of her fingers into my mouth, and without hesitation, my lips close around them. Letting my tongue dance around them for a moment while she watched me, my breathing getting heavier. I didn’t realize that I- oh. 

“So good for me,” she whispers, pulling her hand back. My mouth hangs slightly open as she drags her finger down my bottom lip, her stare straight into my soul as she does it. I can feel the blood trying to decide if it wants to show up in my face or go straight to my cock, from her praise. Please keep telling me how good I am. Wrapping that hand around me, stroking a few times before letting her mouth sink back down onto me. 

I look into the mirror, watching the way her head and hand are moving. The fact that her tights are sheer is killing me because I can see her entire ass in the mirror. Carefully gathered all of her hair, brushed it away from her face, and wrapped it around my fist. The visual only makes it worse. 

She slowly takes more into her mouth; the feeling of her lips around me has me falling apart already. She lets herself sit like that for a second, lingering where I can feel her slight exhale against my stomach before her tongue starts to swirl around me a bit. Oh, fuck me. 

I whisper, “I don’t wanna come like this, hun.”

She pulls back, still gently stroking me as she looks up at me. 

“I have an idea,” she says. Standing in front of me, she slides her tights and thong down her legs and drops them on the floor next to her. “Scoot back a little, babe.”

I join her, pulling my boxers the rest of the way off. Moving myself back a little for her. 

She starts to straddle my lap again, still facing the mirror. Is she about to.. 

“Do you want me to..” I ask, pointing to my nightstand. 

“No, it’s okay,” she whispers back, lining me up with her as she sinks down onto me. My head falls back at the feeling. I keep myself propped up with one arm, but I move one hand onto her hip, holding on. She slowly lifts herself up and, just as slowly, lowers herself back down. We both sound like a mess at the moment. Her speed picks up as she bounces on me; my grip on her tightens. 

“God, baby,” she moans.

Without thinking, I groan, “Feels so good.” 

Her hands moving to my legs, she leans forward a little, and starts rolling her hips against me. The sound of her moans changed when she switched. Her mouth fell open as she kept rocking her hips slowly; I must be hitting the right spot. 

 “Use me, Char,” I mumbled, watching her writhe in pleasure. Watching the way her ass moves against me, softly grabbing at it. Her sweet face, her eyebrows pulled together as she moaned at the sensation.  

Her legs start to shake after a few minutes. I wrap my arms around her, standing up, bringing her with me. I moved us to the side of my bed before whispering in her ear, “Bend over for me?”

She immediately leans down, arching her back and wiggling her ass against me. Looking over, she can definitely still see the mirror.

I don’t know what came over me when I told her, “Eyes on me, honey.” 

She turns her head to the mirror, watching as I push back into her. Her mouth instantly opens at the feeling. My hands held her as I started to rock my hips into her hard and fast. I can feel her stare, and the feeling from it causes a smirk to lace my lips as I glance back over at her. Her foul moans rang throughout the room. 

“Do you like to watch while I fuck you?” I ask her. I don’t know where this is coming from.

She falls apart at the question, squeaking a small ‘yes.’

“Jake, you’re so– good, oh my god,” she whimpers out as I’m relentlessly thrusting into her. Reaching my hand down, rolling her clit between my fingers, watching her grip the comforter. Switching to tight, fast circles over it, she’s practically dripping for me and almost screaming my name at the feeling. 

I can’t come yet. I pull out of her, letting my fingers take over. She backs herself up, giving me better access to her. Leaning down and pressing a few messy kisses to each cheek before I dove in. Licking a long wide stripe up from her clit, shit, she’s so wet. My fingers are still pumping into her slowly, my tongue laps at her, and I want nothing more than to keep hearing my name fall out of her pretty mouth. 

I feel her tap my arm a few times, so I pull back, and she just falls over. Wrapping my arms around her legs, pulling her to the edge of the bed as I kneel. I keep my arms around her thighs, holding her up and placing a kiss against them before diving back in. 

I look up at her, seeing her eyes fixed on us in the mirror. Her hands knit themselves into my hair as my tongue practically spelled her name against her. It’s not long before her hips are trying to roll against my tongue, and who am I to stop her? My breathing shallow as she rides my face, waiting for her jaw to drop. Her grip on my hair tightens as it finally happens, lapping at her clit like my life depends on it and feeling her legs go limp in my arms as I’m setting her down. 

She crawls up to the pillows, flopping down with a few quiet giggles. Reaching out to me to join her. I take her in as I do, looking at ALL of her. This is the first time we’ve both been actually undressed. Every other time has been so heated that we don’t even care, so we’ve never taken the time to get this far. 

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper to her, pulling her face to mine for a kiss. The flush of her cheeks mixed with the sparkle in her eyes, making my heart pound. 

She pulls back, glancing down before bringing her eyes back to mine, “You’re not so bad yourself.” Making us laugh into each other; I press my lips into hers as she giggles against me. I could do this forever.

I nudge her legs apart, moving in between them but never breaking the kiss. Making myself comfortable laying against her, keeping myself propped up on my elbows so I don’t crush her. We lay there pressing kiss after kiss into each other, her hands holding the sides of my throat, fingertips pressing into me harder with each kiss. 

When she starts shifting her hips against me, I push myself up, missing the feeling of her lips on mine instantly. 

“Look at me, honey,” I tell her, hovering over her. The moment her eyes meet mine, it feels like time has slowed. Lining myself up with her, but keeping eye contact this time. We’ve never done this. I start to push myself into her as my heart pounds, and her mouth opens slightly at the feeling; this feels different. Letting myself drop back down onto my elbows, my hands cradling her head. I start to move my hips into her, slow, crawling even. Our eyes stay locked on each other; why am I nervous?  Her hands grabbed the sides of my face, looking at me intently before pulling me into her. The moment I bottom out in her, a groan escapes me. 

Our mouths kept the same pace, slowly working against each other, letting out little moans into the kiss. The amount of contact is overwhelming, but I almost wish we were closer. Her sweet moans into my mouth, making my head spin. My hips stay at a slower pace; the feeling is indescribable but only lasts for a minute until she breaks the silence. 

“Mmm, baby,” she whispers into me. “Please, fuck me harder.”

I swear my cock got harder when she said it, if that was even possible at this point. 

I push myself up, pulling one of her legs up against my chest. Leaving a few small kisses against her ankle before tightening my grip around her thigh, driving myself into her. She loudly moans at the feeling, which only fuels me more. I wrap my arm underneath her, moving us further up the bed; I look down at her. I grab her hand, moving it up to grab the headboard.

“Hold on for me, hun,” I tell her. Leaning forward, I keep her leg against me, pushing myself into her, deep. Taking a breath before I start pounding into her. I watch as she falls apart; the sounds coming from her pretty mouth are foul. I try moving a bit faster, and her breathing picks up. 

“You're so good, baby,” she praises me. “Please, don’t stop.” 

I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to. Slamming my hips into her, listening to the sounds coming from her, the visual of her tits bouncing as I do. Fuck.

“Louder for me, honey,” I coo into her ear. “Let the neighbors know how good it is.” 

Earning a loud moan when I push myself all the way into her quickly. I moved my hand to play with her clit, rubbing fast little circles around it; she was instantly more wet. 

“Oh my god,” she practically yells. Her voice is even louder when she lets out, “Jacob– yes, OH, oh my god, don’t stop.” 

I lean down, hovering over her ear, murmuring, “That’s my girl.” Seeing the goosebumps flood her skin at the comment.

“Yeah, you like that?” I ask quietly, slowing my hips for a minute and sliding my hand into hers. 

She just nods quickly, “Yes, say it again.”

“Oohhh,” I coo into her ear. “My girl needs me to talk her through it, huh?” 

Her free hand tangles itself into my hair as she moans at my voice. Fuck me, that’s hot. My hips rock into her slowly, and I hold her gaze; it feels intimate. 

“Tell me what you want,” I mumble to her. She moans in response, her eyebrows pulling together slightly, and her grip on my hand tightens. 

She finally lets out a small “you.” 

“You have me,” I tell her. She looks like she’s holding something back, “Use your words, honey.” 

“Want you to come with me,” she moans. 

The thought alone got me closer; I looked down at her. She’s so beautiful. I start thrusting into her a little faster, listening to her slowly unravel as I do. Her hands grab my shoulders and pull me back down to her; her moans are getting louder as I snap my hips a little harder. 

“I’m close,” falls out of my mouth. “Where should I..?”

Her eyes lit up as she stared at me. I can see her sitting on the edge of her orgasm with the way her mouth is just slightly open; she has to be right there.

“Come in me, baby,” she whispers, her eyes fixed on mine. “I wanna feel you.” Oh my god. 

I groan at her comments, feeling my cock start to twitch and my hips struggling to keep pace. I lean in, kissing her as my orgasm starts to hit. She lets out a delicious moan as I feel her tighten around me, and she whimpers into me, “Oh- Jacob.” 

Kissing her as we both finished felt surreal, feeling her hands hold onto me, pulling me closer to her like we weren’t already an inch away from each other. The mix of our moans in a sweet symphony. I had never finished in someone like that, and now I just want to only sleep with her if this is what my life could be. 

  I lean down, kissing her sweetly a few times. Peppering her face with little pecks as we lay there in a light layer of sweat. The little glimmer in her eyes as we’re still pressed together, her soft little laugh while she’s moving a piece of hair that’s sticking to my face. Oh, honey. 

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After a few minutes of her laughing at me trying to help her, we managed to make it to the bathroom. Thankfully, we still have a little bit before we have to worry about Josh coming home. I turned on the shower before grabbing the hair tie on the counter. I start to pull my hair up, staring at myself in the mirror as I do, becoming incredibly aware of how we’re both just.. naked. Why am I .. comfortable with this?  I glance over at her as I’m shifting the bun around on the top of my head to loosen it a little. The look in her eyes is hard to read, but she’s just watching me quietly. Not that I shouldn’t be, I mean.. We’ve slept together enough. This just feels a lot more vulnerable, and it just .. feels normal. 

I let her step into the shower first, her hand in mine for support. She practically pulls me in behind her, tucking herself into me. We just stand there for a minute, enjoying the warmth of the water. 

She tiptoes herself in a circle under the water, giggling as she does. I grab the body wash, pouring a fair amount into my hand, watching her spin around carefully a few times. 

“Here, let me help you,” I laugh, rubbing my hands quickly up and down her arms. Sliding the soap across her collarbones and letting both hands trail down to her tits really taking my time. I graze my thumbs over her piercings, smirking at her when I do. 

“Jacob cut it out,” she laughs, grabbing my hands and pulling them away. She turns around, and I massage her shoulders for a second. She lets out a little sigh at the feeling, letting my hands slowly work their way down her back. As soon as I hit her lower back, I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. Giggling as I glide my hands over her ass, knowing she’s probably going to yell at me again. 

“You need to focus, babe,” she scolds me; a laugh was in there, so she doesn’t entirely hate it. 

“You’re right,” I tell her, but not without slapping her ass. 

She whips around with her jaw dropped, “You little shit.” She grabs my arms, making us switch spots so I can be under the water for a minute. Taking her turn by pouring the body wash directly onto my chest, and it’s cold as hell. Frantically rubbing it all over me, I just laugh while she does. She takes her time scrubbing my arms, thoroughly coating them in soap and dragging them down to my hands. God, she’s so fucking cute. 

She grabs my shoulders, forcing me to turn around. Her hands are still moving quickly as she scrubs little circles down my back. I hear her little giggle before she fully grabs my ass, squeezing it a few times. I turn just enough for water to run over my shoulder, washing away the soap as she’s having her fun. 

“Hey now,” I mumble, reaching back and grabbing her hands, pulling them around me.  

Her forehead leans against me, her hands running up and down my chest. She slides her hands dangerously low. Lord, help me. 

“Hun,” I let out, probably sounding a bit concerned. Her hand was eerily close to my cock, and I was fighting every demon not to get hard. 

She kisses the base of my neck, “What?” her taunting little tone laces it. The sigh that falls out of my body when she wraps her hand around me, gently stroking me as I get harder. 

“What are you–” I start, but losing my breath when she picks up her pace. “Char–” 

She lets go, grabbing my hips to turn me back to her, but her hand wraps back around me quickly. Stepping closer, she leans up to kiss me, her hand moving down the length of my cock at a painfully slow pace. 

“I just think you deserve a little more,” She says against my lips. Her thumb rubbed over the tip of my cock, making me moan into her. “Feel good, baby?” She moves back a little, pulling my hips with her. 

‘Mhm’ slips out of me; she can’t be real. Her lips found their place back on mine; my mind wandered to the night I got off to the thought of her. Now she’s here, in the shower with me, and she started this. The feeling of her hand on me, the taste of her on my lips, her fucking voice. Little whimpers are escaping me left and right; I can feel her smiling into me over it. Despite the fact we just had sex, great sex, mind you, I’m already close. Something about her is just so different. 

She leans into my ear, whispering, “Come for me, Captain.” 

I feel my orgasm start to release, her lips pressing into mine again as I do. This girl is my dream, holy shit. She slowly works me through it, giggling once she looks down. I scoot out of the way so she can clean herself off, kissing the side of her head while she does. 

I get out first, holding out a towel for her as she shuts the water off. Wrapping herself up, I quickly dry myself off. She scoots herself closer to me, snuggling herself against my chest. I throw my arms around her, my towel almost covering the two of us together. 

“It’s cold out here,” she giggles into me. Feeling her body shiver against me. I swear everything she does makes my heart feel weird. 

“I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry,” I mumble to her, her face tucked into my neck as I rub my hands over her arms and back to warm her up again. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After some mild convincing, we made it back into my room. I watch as she slides her panties up her legs, leaving minimal room for the imagination with the way they frame her ass perfectly. I just pull on some boxers because, at this point, I feel like she would laugh at me if I tried to be any more covered than that.  She comes back over, crawling into bed with me. 

“You’re just gonna.. sleep like this?” I ask, looking at her bare chest as she comes closer. 

Her arm slides up my chest as she makes herself comfortable against me, “Mhm. Is that okay?” 

“Hun, I will never pass up the opportunity— I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

She draws little shapes on my chest when she timidly lets out, “Just wanna feel extra close, I don’t know.” 

“Well, in that case,” I turned towards her,  grabbing one of her legs and pulling her as close to me as possible. Her leg drapes over my hip, and I slide one of mine between hers. Her head laying against my bicep, both of her dainty little hands holding my free one. I can practically feel her heart beating with how intertwined we are. 

She leans forward, kissing me a few times before settling back into her spot. Pressing lazy kisses against my arm every so often, she glances up at me.

“This is nice,” she whispers. “Thank you for everything today, baby.”

Her little smile makes me nervous, pulling her hands up and littering her knuckles with little kisses as my heart feels like it’s falling out of my body. 

“Of course,” I whisper back. 

She moves closer, somehow, and tucking her face back into my neck with her chest pressed against mine. My arm gently wraps around her shoulders, keeping her close. I can feel her breathing against my skin and how she’s smiling into me. I can feel her eyelashes brush against me when she blinks. The scent of my body wash on her ignited a little fire in my stomach. She snaked her arm around me, holding onto my shoulder, mindlessly leaving little comforting scratches as we lay there when I felt her lips press into the side of my throat. 

The chills sent through my body at that moment; I couldn’t describe the level of bliss I felt like I was in. Being able to hold her like this, the fact she’s enjoying it enough to keep tangling us into each other even further. I wanted nothing more than to lie here, listening to her breathe and feel her skin on mine. She’s so warm against me. My mind wanders as she aimlessly plays with my hair, and letting eyes fall shut. 

My mind is racing with thoughts about her and how we’re in this position. But it suddenly feels like everything comes to a screeching halt, all the noise stops, and my heart pounds as it sits there, front and center in my mind— 

 I think I love her. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Eighteen

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[afewfantasies]

Lucky Strike 🎯 🎱 - Visions - VI

COMPLETE MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Pairing: Benny Cross (Bikeriders) X Reader

Summary: The reader extends her stay and Benny confronts her with how he's been feeling. They share their visions of forever before being confronted with unwanted visitors. There are fluffy moments and lots of physical touch.

Word count: 3.4K

He could feel himself getting angry standing at your side. He didn’t think it was possible but hearing you call another man sweet things took him there easily. It was gnawing at him again. How little he had to offer a woman like the one you’d become. The little engagement ring riddled in diamonds was something he could never give you. The wind blows and he tries controlling his temper only to hear the phone slam into the receiver and a few coins falling out. Turning to face him your eyes are all lit up as you chew your bubble gum. 

“We have two more weeks!” You giggle, taking his hands and hopping up and down with excitement. “Think that’s enough time to teach me to ride a Harley?” You ask as Benny’s energy settles.

“Why do you need to learn how to ride a Harley now?” Benny asks, wrapping his arms around you as he turns you to the parking lot.

“Well, my hobbies are much less thrilling” you pop your gum.

Benny smiles, eager to know more. “What are they?”

“My mother’s hobbies, shopping, reading, painting. Silence is the underlying theme.” You jest.

“I’m sure she won’t like you on a bike, your fiancé either” Benny adds fishing for more info on the man.

“Well that’s what friends are for Benny, you keep my secrets and I’ll keep yours. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. We’re on borrowed time so let’s get going so I don’t miss the picnics festivities” you stomp in good spirits. Benny’s smiling at you already indulging outbursts he shouldn’t. 

“What if we blew off the picnic? And just went somewhere just us two?” Benny asks.

“How much money for gas do you have?” You ask handing him a five dollar bill.

“That’ll get us far enough” he comments, pulling out another ten. “This’ll keep us fed” 

“What about if it rains or we need a place to stay?” You ask.

“We can figure it out. You trust me don’t you?” He asks and you find yourself smiling.

“With my life” you confess.

“Why are you so sunny today?” Benny asks, trying to get a hold of his own happiness.

“I get to spend seven more days with my best friend in the entire world who doesn’t expect me to wear stuffy proper clothes, or do anything really but be me and exist. To me that’s as exciting as a brand new shiny Harley is to you.” You explain.

“Now I feel special,” he says sarcastically, only it’s the furthest thing from a lie.

“Benjamin, don’t mock me, I'm being sincere.” you laugh shoving him playfully. Benny grabs your arm pulling you in closer as the two of you laugh.

“Y/N, if it was you or a brand new high performance Harley and unlimited gas. I’d choose you” Benny says.

“Oh wow, I am special. For a bike rider that’s practically wedding vows” you gape genuinely surprised.

“You can’t be surprised, you’re my best friend in the world” he asserts. “You grew up nice, I’d marry you too” Benny says cavalier. He shrugs casually and you laugh.

“Now I know you’re pulling my leg, I see the way you look at my clothes. I know what you and the guys think about my fancy style” you tell him to get on the back of his bike and slide back so he can get on.”

His good humour fades into a serious expression “Not pulling your leg. What’s so hard to believe? You don’t love the other guy and he’d marry you” Benny says and you take a breath closing your eyes. You blank when you try to picture your future with Benny married. He smiles amused that you visualise things in adulthood.

“We both have bikes” he says, starting you off.

“Mhm” you nod motioning for him to keep the visuals coming.

“We live someplace simple but near enough to a shopping mall to feed your habit” he says and you laugh.

You nod some more “Keep going…” 

“And I work at an auto shop or factory. You bake from time to time to make some money.”

Benny continues and you hold out a hand with your eyes till closed moving it from side to side to tell him that part of the vision is so so.

“When do you have time to ride and meet up with the guys?” You ask, opening your eyes and he shrugs.

“Weekends” he proposes.

“This bike is everything to you Benny. Don’t be so quick to give it up for a life of responsibility. We’ve had enough of that” you tell him disregarding his incomplete satirical vision of the future.

“So what your fiancé has more to offer you?” Benny snaps. “Or is an auto mechanic not good enough” he snaps feeling affronted. 

Your brows knit and it takes you a moment to realise it was real for him. You take in enough air to fill your lungs in absolute shock sitting there on his bike. Benny watches as it all comes to you. The revelation hurts, he’d been swimming in confusing feelings for you since he’d laid eyes on you and you hadn't given it a serious thought. He leaves you spinning as he heads in the direction of the outdoor pool to have a smoke and cool off instead of kicking up a fuss.

 Swallowing you look at your feet and then to his bike and then you relax as water comes to your eyes. The thought of hurting Benny is too much. You’d locked up your heart long ago. No expectations, no disappointments. When your fiancé came around it seemed perfect. You’d be tethered to each other out of chosen obligation, not something as fickle as love. He promised to care for you and he would. He’d never have to pretend with you and that there was real love enough. Just not the kind most couples hoped for. The world wasn’t yet ready for him to openly love the man of his choosing and so he opted for a wife that understood and accepted him. Your fiancé was a safe space who ensured that you wouldn’t be the only one playing a role while in public within your society. Pretending to be proper and well off when your humble beginnings suggested otherwise. Getting off the bike you make your way to the pool and find Benny sitting on one of the chairs. He’s gorgeous even when he’s upset. You smile, allowing yourself to see him as more. You sit down beside him and he kills his smoke on the concrete before looking at you with a clenched jaw.

“If you get mad so fast this’ll never work. I’ll wear down your nerves and keep your cigarette pack empty” you tease with a smirk. Benny swallows his own, unable to stay upset with you. “I wasn’t implying you don’t have enough to offer. I was making it clear I don’t expect you to sacrifice your happiness for my comfort” you explain.

“It would make me happy to keep you comfortable” Benny mutters.

“You could work for a bit and then we could save up and buy a mobile home. Huck would give us a truck. We could do something that keeps you on a bike as often as possible.

“That would make you happy?” Benny asks.

“We could drive anywhere, see this country and eventually maybe even the world. An extended adventure. That would make me happy.” you confess allowing yourself a dream.

“Not being a mother?” Benny asks.

“I’d like to live a little first so I can settle down and have something to offer a kid.” You explain. Bennys never heard such a thing. He scratches his head. People got married, got a home and worked until they died to provide for their families. That’s how adulthood had been put to him. “Benny, do you want kids?” You ask.

“Not sure, I mean if it happened I’d be okay with it” he shrugs. “A mobile home?” He asks, looking at you.

“Yeah, cheaper than hotels and motels. You can use it like a tent. A boy from my high school got one he drove all the way down to South America. Said it was life changing” you share.

“That’s what you want?” Benny says being the first to ask. You close your eyes again and you can picture it. Being on the road with Benny for hours. Exploring new places. Taking pictures, laughing, talking by campfires. 

“Yeah” you nod, opening them to him. He draws in a deep breath.

“I don’t know a lick of Spanish” he mumbles.

“We can figure it out,” you shrug.

He sighs. “Doubt your mother will like that”

“She’ll get over it” you shrug again. “Now let’s go to this picnic and have a good time.” You stand holding out a hand for him. Benny takes it, getting up and pulling you into a warm hug. You were his heart beating outside his body. Something he heard Johnny say about his daughter once. Now he finally knew what it really felt like. He gets on the bike first and you follow suit giving him space as he starts up. The running engine starts the motor and Benny settles back in his seat. Taking your hand from his side he pulls your hand to slide you closer to him so you’re body to body before repositioning your hand on his abdomen.

“Comfortable?” He shouts over the sounds of the bike looking back at you.

“Yeah!” You nod before resting your head on his back. He gives your hand a pat feeling like a new man as you pull off. Your mind runs wild at the possibilities and at the physical contact. You can’t help but wonder where all this has come from. Benny declaring his intentions.  He’d always loved you but had it really been more? He’d been in a relationship and you betrothed and there’d been no room in your heart for expectation or disappointment after a lifetime of it one way or another. You’d never really had anyone after you left Benny.  Your fiancé had been a friend turned potential life partner and overall good man. In your bid for normalcy you’d decided to adopt and maybe foster a child that came from a situation like yours. You wouldn’t be a mother but a friend, a safe space for the kids and him. It brought you enough peace. 

The prospect of being with Benny was different. Exciting, terrifying, riveting. Your return had fed your soul in more ways that anyone could ever know. Love had never been in your vision for yourself. You tried it in high school but what your friends described and what you felt were totally different. Pretty dressed and pretending was all it was. After high school you were in a relationship with a guy your mom thought was great. You tried to let yourself fall but it didn’t happen. He was enamoured but you’d always been lukewarm. Smiling on cue, laughing at his jokes and he was none the wiser parading you around like a trinket. Sex was the nail in the relationship's coffin.

You went to the library at a women’s college the next day. A small penis and premature ejaculation were to blame for that god awful first time, in addition to a lack of skill. As you closed that book on sex you closed your heart and mind to the possibilities of love. Your fiancé came into town a few weeks later. The rest was history.

Benny takes his hand from the handles placing one over yours on his stomach. He’d never felt so full in all his years. Tearing through the Chicago roads his mind is fixed on your vision of the future. He’d never ever thought he could travel. Be free of this city. Be with a woman like the one you’d become. You start to hear a party as the cement turns into gravel and eventually dirt roads. There’s cheering at Bennys arrival. You hug a couple of the guys looking for Johnny’s wife Barb. You watch a couple guys on the grill and run around with the kids playing tag and frisbee. A few hours in, you and Barbara walk up the hill to sit in peace.

“Benny can’t keep his eyes off you” she says perceptively. Looking into your drink you smile and she laughs at your blush. “You’re good for him, he looks relaxed every time he sees you’re having fun” she adds. “Hear you two have been hold up in one hotel room”

“It’s not like that” you smile, knocking your knees against hers. “We’ve never fooled around,” you tell her honestly.

“I believe you, Bennys girls aren’t typically so sane” she jokes. You look at the sunset.

You sigh.“The girls say it’s not easy living a vandal”

“Because they love the vandal when they’re supposed to love the man.” She says.

“I love Johnny. He loves the club so I support that. And god does that man love me. Comes home every night unless he’s driving a long hall and works his ass off. He deserves a little partying and some beer every night. If riding around with his friends and sitting at the clubhouse makes him a vandal, so what?” She shrugs.

“Y’all get down here before it gets dark” Johnny shouts from below. You and Barb hold hands talking it slow. By the time you’re down it’s dark and the guys are tending a fire. The kids are asleep in cars and the party is getting started. You sit beside Benny and he wraps an arm around you.

“Alright?” He checks in.

“Yeah you?” 

“Mhm” he nods with eyes on your lips. You feel your heart flutter as he kisses your forehead instead. He’s golden in the hue of the campfire. You look away melting under the heat of being looked at as an object of desire from someone you actually love and admire. It’s an immense pressure. Your heart races and fear wins out, when you remember society’s expectations.

“I’m not a virgin Benny. I know it means a lot to some men so I thought I’d tell you now” you confess looking at him. His eyes hold yours before he smiles a little.

“Neither am I” he shrugs. You hold his gaze relaxing when you see he’s serious and it’s not a point of contention. “What, you thought I'd be upset? You gonna be upset that I’m not either”

“I don't know you could be. You’re a bike rider. I hear how these guys are and I hear you get all the ladies.” You recall.

“I’m not like that. I don’t run through women.” He says. “How about you?”

“It was once and it was terrible but at least it was quick.” You tell him and he frowns.

“Did he have your permission?” He asks with his heart in his stomach.

“Yes but it was … god Benny I’ve never said any of this out loud” you admit feeling bashful.

“It was what?” He asks pulling you in closer.

“Not good, I wanted it to end and him to get off of me and then it was over and he was asking for a few more minutes to make it up and apologising and I was getting dressed to go home.” You confess making Benny chuckle. “Sheesh” he says amused.

“It’s not funny” you say, misunderstanding his laughter.

“No it’s not but it is. Gorgeous as you are poor fool probably got too excited. That’s not how it should be.” Benny says looking down at you. It was a strange thing to be so open with a woman but it was you.

“No?” you ask.

“No,” he affirms.

You sigh not believing him.“I think that’s just for men”

“It’s not ask Barbara,” Benny advises.

“I’m not asking Barbara about her and her husband” you whisper aghast at Bennys suggestion. He chuckles some more and you realise you love to see him smile. “You’re being a terror” you smile getting up and he follows suit, enjoying winding you up now as much as he had as a boy.

“It’s not just enjoyable for men,” he says, pulling you close as you make it to a park bench away from the group. The city is sparkling below as you sit resting your head against his. 

“Tired?”

“Mhm” you nod.

“Let’s head back while you can still ride with me” he says standing. You find Johnny and a few others before  leaving and riding into the night. Benny parks and you get your keys for the hotel stopping when you see two big guys outside your door. You step back into Benny who steps in front of you.

“Y/N Y/LN?” One of the men says.

“Who’s asking?” Benny snaps.

“You have an outstanding debt. I was gonna collect it’s value from your step mothers house but she told me you could give me cold hard cash” the man says looking around Benny at you.

“I don’t have any, the man is dead, leave us alone” you tell him.

“You deal with me” Benny tells them and he scoffs.

“Fancy hotel like this. You have until tomorrow at midnight to clear the debt or I’ll beat one of the kids. Vandal, you know where to find me.” the man says before walking away. You feel your hands trembling. Benny takes the keys letting you in. You’re a kid again. It’s not the first time. Far from the first time men have showed up to collect.

“Even while dead” you sigh and Benny holds you.

“I’ll take care of it. Must’ve missed one” Benny promises.

“Benny it’s extortion, they’ll keep on now they think I’m well off. I can’t believe she sent them here?!” You snap.

“Y/N relax, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Grab a shower and let’s go to sleep.” Benny suggests but just like that you’re too wired. A ball of nerves. A mix of fear and frustration. You sit on the couch and he follows pulling you onto his lap before cradling you like a child. His eyes assure you it’s handled. “Nothings gonna happen to you” he promises as tears fall. He wipes them away, taking on the role of protector like he had so many times before.

“Benny, I'll just take some things to the pawnshop for the cash. I don’t want trouble” you sigh, not wanting it to be bigger than it needs to be.

“I’ll take care of it,” Benny asserts.

“But B-“

“Shhhhhh, I have the cash. I’ll clear the debt” he asserts. You swallow looking up at him wondering how it was that you were so lucky to have him and then find him again. Sitting up you run your fingers through the low sides of his hair. His eyes watch you intently. 

“Thank you” you whisper and he places a kiss on your forehead and the nose.

“You never have to thank me,” he says, not needing it.

“I do Benny, and I love you” you confess. “Like a crazy amount” you say, breathing through your tears. 

“I know, and believe me I love you more” he says.

“Impossible” you smile as he wipes your tears away. Taking your chin he brings your lips to his several times kissing them quickly as he tries adding levity to the situation.

“It’s a fact” he asserts.

“Now go shower first” he whispers and you nod, getting up feeling a little better. You cry in the shower feeling as powerless to your father as you did in childhood. You get in bed as Benny heads to the bathroom. You don’t have to ask him to sleep beside you. He does. Getting in the bed pulling you to him and placing his hand under your silk top is resting skin to skin.  “I’m here okay?”

“Mhm”

“Forever” he promises and you turn to him.

“Forever” you agree. He’d gone from having nothing to everything in a matter of weeks. He never wanted you to worry again. This time your dad’s choices wouldn’t win. He’d save the day and keep. His hand slides up your back as he holds you and your heart beats sync.

Authour's Note:

Ok, ok, ok, so we're moving along. I know this one moved a little quick but it's longer than the typical update. How do we feel about them unthawing for each other? How do we feel about their vision for the future? How do we feel about that ending? Lets get into it!

Thanks for reading lovelies 🩵🩵🩵

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