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ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 months ago

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Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Nine

Summary: You make the tough call to have that conversation you've been putting off with a certain someone. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 5.4k~ (High key proud of myself because I wrote this in two and a half days lol) Warnings: A heated discussion and some angst and maybe a word or two of explicit language. a/n: Okay so this wasn't what I was planning on writing for this next chapter but I think it was about time since their relationship was starting to get serious. (he's older so he doesn't want to waste any time lol) Start from the beginning

"Jungkook?" I ask, poking my head into his office and he puts a finger to his lips but beckons me to come closer, sitting me down on his lap.

"I'll go over those case files and get back to you on Monday morning. Thank you, you too" he says, no doubt ending a call with one of his clients that's itching to get their case closed leaving him sighing and hanging up the phone.

"What is it Bun?" he asks, having noticed the conflicted look on my face and I can't help but get nervous again at the thought of bringing this up.

"It's been a few months since...well since everything happened" I start and he adjusts me so I'm straddling his lap facing him fully now but he doesn't rush me to continue.

"Have you spoken to Jina?" I ask, finally looking up at him, fidgeting with my fingers as a nervous habit to which he takes and places a few kisses on my knuckles.

"Not recently, why?" he asks and caresses my face, giving me a sense of comfort and coaxing me into continuing so I don't shy away from the topic.

"She's no doubt getting pretty close to her due date now so...after all we've been through I still don't want her to go through this alone" I admit and he nods, pondering my words but not saying too much just yet.

"She's had enough time to hopefully reflect and regret what she's done and she's probably endured a lot of the struggles that go along with pregnancy on her own and I don't know" I trail off at the end and he stays there, still listening since I clearly have more that I want to say.

"She was my best friend" I whisper, my voice cracking, the emotions of our lost friendship ended in the worst betrayal imaginable coming back to me.

He pulls me closer and runs his hand up and down my back, telling me it's okay to let it out, knowing that this is something I have yet to heal from.

"You want me to see if she could come over?" he asks softly once my sobs have turned to sniffles and I nod, my face still buried in the crook of his neck. "Want me to do it right now?" he continues and I nod, sitting back and wiping away the tears.

"Can you ask if she could come over tomorrow?" I ask, my sniffles still prevalent and he nods and kisses both of my cheeks before grabbing his phone off his desk and pulling up her number and pressing call.

I don't even notice the way I hold my breath while we wait for her voice, waiting and waiting until she finally picks up on the seventh ring.

"Dad?" she says, her voice full of pure confusion. "Hey Jina, you busy?" he asks, wanting to be respectful of her time since neither of us has any clue what her life or schedule looks like.

"I got a second to talk. Is something wrong?" she asks, knowing that this isn't just your normal 'just checking in' chat.

"I just wanted to see if you could pass by the house tomorrow? I...we kinda wanted to talk to you" he says, hesitant on if he should mention me just yet but he knows this is better than blindsiding her.

"We meaning y/n?" she sighs and all Jungkook does is hum in response.

She lets out another sigh and thinks about it for a while, rightfully so since she's not exactly sure what she'll be walking into but finally agrees after her pause.

"I can come around five" she says and I let out another breath that I hadn't realized I had held and I chew on my bottom lip, the time and date now settled giving me a sort of countdown to obsess over until she knocks on our door.

"Perfect. I can make us dinner" Jungkook offers but she's quick to decline. "I'd rather not if that's alright" she says carefully, all of us walking on eggshells around each other.

"Whatever you're comfortable with Jina" Jungkook nods and I give him a sad smile in return.

They wrap up the call soon afterwards, me leaving half way through to give them some privacy going into the kitchen and fixing both of us some tea to help us relax after that not too comfortable exchange.

He comes out of his office just as I'm taking the tea bags out, adding a little sugar to each leaving him taking them soon after and placing them at the kitchen table with me following behind.

"You okay?" I ask, worried that he's been quiet since he came out. "I'm just thinking" he says giving me a lopsided smile.

I nod and take one of his hands in mine, running my thumb along his knuckles and he squeezes my hand back, looking down on them.

"Thank you" I say quietly and he looks at me with a puzzled expression. "I know she's your daughter and I know it's been hard on you choosing between me and her so I'm just glad to see that you're open to seeing her even if you're not sure if you're ready" I say and he nods and mulls over how he wants to respond.

He's tired.

I know he's been tired and it hasn't just been from work although the case he's been working on has been all but consuming him at this point.

He's been struggling with something for a while and I know he's been hesitant to bring it up so I'm hoping that this conversation with Jina will in some way help.

I don't want to say that's all that's been on his mind lately but I know it's been a big part of it.

"She's seven months pregnant" he mumbles and I hum. "I know" is all I say in response, squeezing his hand again and from the way his breathing is wavering I know he's close to breaking.

"I'm a horrible father" he says and I shake my head and bring his hand to my lips and kiss it, not pulling him close just yet since I know he needs to process this. "You're not a horrible father Jungkook" I say with conviction but he shakes his head.

"I pushed away my only daughter after finding out she was pregnant and shut her out of my life for months" he says, taking his hand out on mine and resting both of his elbows on the table, running his fingers through his hair before digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, no doubt trying to keep them from crying.

"You didn't shun her Jungkook, she could've come back to try and mend things" but he shakes his head.

"We both made her feel unwelcome" he says and although I know it's true it still hurts to hear him say that. "She could've been struggling this whole time and I never would've known" his voice cracks, his body tense and breathing uneven.

I've been keeping tabs on her as best as I could through social media and from what I can tell she's been doing okay although you never really know. It could've all just been something she kept up with just to save face.

I scoot closer to him and rub my hand along his back, not saying anything since I know it won't reach him right now. Once I get closer though he breaks and pulls me in, burying his face in my neck and holding onto me as if he was afraid I would leave him if he let go.

His whole body shakes as he lets out soft sobs, this strong man in pieces in my arms breaking my heart with every shaky breath.

I whisper to him and reassure him that we're gonna get through this and that everything will work out the way it's supposed to.

I can't bring myself to say that everything is going to be okay because I don't know that. Jina could turn around and leave this house and never say a word to us ever again so I can't promise him anything other than the fact that I'll stay with him.

If he'll have me I'll stay with him through it all.

"I don't even know what gender the baby is" he says, pulling back and sniffling, looking up at me with red swollen eyes and a tear streaked face. "I do" I say softly and his brow shoot up, "Would you like to know?" I smile and brush his hair out of his face leaving him giving me a little nod and leaning into my touch.

"She's having a girl" I say and give him a small smile and his eyes tear up again. "I'm gonna have a granddaughter?" his voice breaking again. "Yeah, you're gonna be a grandpa" I chuckle and wipe away the tears on his cheeks.

"Can we get her something?" he asks, his eyes full of stars as he looks at me and I nod.

"I've kinda been getting her stuff since I found out" I laugh sheepishly and he sniffles, wiping the fresh tears that have threatened to fall. "Really?" he asks leaving me smiling, "Really really".

He cups my face in return, "You're a lot softer than I thought you were" he smiles and I chuckle. "What's that supposed to mean?" gaining me a nose scrunch in response.

"Have you forgotten that I've been here on all the occasions you told Jina and Jared off? What do the kids say these days? You ate them up?" he chuckles, poking my sides making me swat his hands away.

"Don't say stuff like that" I giggle and shake my head. "Why not? Am I too old for it?" he asks and I nod, leaning into his touch when he cups my face. "Yes but before you even ask, no you're not too old for me okay?" I give him a pointed stair so he knows I'm being serious.

"Having Jina here is going to make all of us uncomfortable but we can't hide from each other for forever right? It's time we had some of those conversations we've been putting off" I say and he nods.

"You know, for being a lot younger than me you're a lot more mature than me in some areas" he teases but I shrug. "We just compliment each other. That's all" I say, not really taking the compliment so much as acknowledging the fact that where one lacks the other makes up for it.

"How long have we been together for?" he asks making me pause,

"Well that's kind of a complicated question. I kissed you for the first time about four months ago and we had been doing...things off and on since then but I want to say officially we've been together for around two and a half months. Why?" I ramble off and he hums, thinking to himself a little.

"Just wondering" and I narrow my eyes at that, "About?" I try to coax him but he gives me just as much of a vague answer but one could only assume. "If it's too early" is all he says and moves me off his lap and stands to walk upstairs.

"If it's too early for what?" I ask, chasing after him and he chuckles.

"You'll find out soon enough Bun" he responds and says no more on the topic making me grumble but he's soon catching me off guard and throwing me over his shoulder and down onto the bed, using distraction tactics that work wonders.

~~~~

The next morning I wake up in a little bit of a panic, getting up and getting dressed as fast as I can. I get my hair and makeup done and dusted before the sun has even risen and by the time Jungkook finally gets out of bed he's greeted with me pacing back and forth downstairs.

"Darling?" he yawns and walks over to me once he's descended the stairs, pulling me in for an embrace to stop my senseless pacing. "Did I wake you?" I ask, his warmth and familiar scent calming my nerves with him shaking his head and placing a soft kiss on my neck.

"No, just missed you" he mumbles and his words bring me more comfort. I'm glad to see that even with what happened yesterday and what's bound to happen today he's still seeking me out for comfort.

"I missed you too" I smile and hold onto him tighter for a second before leaning back, "Do you wanna see what I got for Jina and the baby?" I ask excitedly, happy I won't have to hide it anymore.

"You got stuff for both of them?" he asks making me nod and I lead him upstairs and into the guest bedroom.

Once we're up there I have him sit on the bed while I open the bottom dresser drawer and pull out countless outfits for a little baby girl as well as maternity clothes for Jina and place them on the bed. Then in the drawer right next to it I pull out some self care spa day items and some baby scrap books for the first year after her daughter is born as well as a few small stuffed animals.

He looks over every item as if they're the most precious things he's seen in a long time and I smile.

"I don't know how much or if she'll accept any of it but once I started I couldn't stop" I explain and he looks up at me and smiles, pulling me in by my waist and wrapping his arms around me from his seated position.

"I know her's and my relationship will never go back to what it once was but I don't think an innocent child should have to suffer for a mistake that was made" I say running my fingers through his hair and he nods, resting his head against my stomach, nuzzling into me.

"We used to talk about having children at the same time and how they would be the very best of friends. How they would play together, go to the same school and how we would have mommy daughter shopping dates every weekend" I chuckle thinking back on it now.

"I'd like to be a part of her little one's life if possible. She was brought into this world in a hurtful way but I want her to know that she is very much wanted and very much loved" I continue and he nods and props his chin on me so he can look up at me.

"You don't know how much that means to me" he says giving me a teary eyed smile. "She's your granddaughter and she deserves to grow up in a family that loves her and I'd like to be a part of that if Jina lets me...and if you'll let me" I say and his lashes flutter in confusion.

"How could I not let you?" he asks and I shrug. "I don't know I guess I just wouldn't want to confuse the child when she sees me with you while she's younger and if the dynamic changes and things don-"

"I hope you know I have the intention of marrying you" he cuts me off and my rambling is stopped in it's tracks.

"You...what?" I whisper, afraid to even ask him to repeat himself.

"I said I want to marry you some day, meaning that the dynamic between us will only grow into something even more beautiful and you being a part of our family is a given" he explains and now I'm the one that's crying.

"You're serious?" I ask, sniffling and he smiles up at me, cupping my face and wiping away the few tears that have fallen.

"It was never my intention to pursue you just so I play with your feelings" he says and nod, hoping deep down that that wasn't the case.

He hasn't given me a reason to think that that would be the case but my self doubt has made me feel disposable.

"I love you" I sniffle and he smiles and pulls me down onto his lap. "I love you too Bunny" he says and holds me close, never ever wanting to let me go and he knows that I feel the same.

"I'm not proposing now because I want us to be together for a little while longer okay?" he says and I nod my head, my face buried in his shoulder.

"When did the two of us become such babies?" I chuckle and pull back, "You crying yesterday and me crying today" I joke to lighten things up because I know we need to be clear headed when Jina comes.

"I think it's okay to be a baby every once in a while" he smiles, "Plus you're my baby all the time" he teases and boops my nose.

"Okay okay enough with the mushy stuff. Do you think you could help me make a little..." I pause and look at all of the various items I've compiled "...big gift basket for Jina?" making him smile and squeeze me one last time before sliding me off his lap.

"Sure, I think I have an old Easter basket of hers in the garage or something. Be right back" he says and kisses me on the forehead before going on his search for something that might work.

As I go through rolling and folding up the clothes so I'll be able to set them all into the basket when he's brought it I think about all the good times Jina and I had had together.

I hadn't really let myself reminisce much after everything that happened because honestly it took me a lot longer to heal from everything Jina did than from Jared.

Yes Jared and I were dating and I thought we were in love to the point where I almost married him but Jina was my friend, my twin flame, the one I went to when I felt like the world was caving in on me.

Going from that to heartbreak worse than that of a lovers did just that, it broke me.

One might find it dramatic but when you've been friends with someone for six years it's hard to just let them go and pretend like it never happened.

Living in her home has been somewhat of a self inflicted torture but when laid side by side, me struggling to find a place and make ends meet on my own versus living with her sexy dad who loves me and I love him...the choice is kind of a no brainer.

"This work?" Jungkook asks, bringing in a big pink wicker basket that couldn't have been more perfect. "Yes!" I say and we work on putting it together.

~~~~

Four o'clock rolls around, then four thirty, then five, then five thirty and I've started to pace back and forth, worried that I might've reached out too soon.

"Bunny sit down" Jungkook coaxes softly for the fifth time but I shake my head.

"What if she really doesn't come? What if she wants nothing to do with us? What if she wants nothing to do with me?" I ramble and he finally stands in front of me and grabs me by the shoulders to keep me still.

"Then that would be her decision" he says, still speaking to me in that soft tone, knowing it'll help me calm down. "People heal and process things at their own pace so we can't really force her to do anything that she's not ready for" he continues and I nod.

I know that that's the case. I know I was a complete asshole to her the last time she was here and I know that nothing will be the same after this but I can't keep myself from trying.

Before I'm able to get out much of a response though there's a tentative knock on our front door, the both of us pausing for a second not sure what we should do.

"You should probably answer it" I mumble to him and he nods and places a kiss on my forehead before doing so, leaving me standing awkwardly by the couch, waiting for them to sit down.

"Hi Jina" Jungkook says, his tone full of sadness and longing but I know he's trying to hold it back as best as he can. "Hey Dad" she says, her tone almost mirroring his exactly...like father like daughter I guess.

I try not to stare at their interaction but eventually Jina and I catch each other's eyes both of us nodding in greeting before they both come back over to sit down, Jungkook and I on the sofa with Jina choosing to sit on one of the arm chairs.

"How have you been?" Jungkook starts out awkwardly after there's been a bout of silence.

"Good, pregnant. That pretty much sums it up I guess" she says and we both nod, another moment of silence stretches on, none of us knowing where to start so I finally jump in.

"Thank you...for agreeing to meet with us tonight" I say and she just nods and places her hand on her belly, no doubt a coping mechanism of some sort to keep her grounded.

"How's the baby doing? I heard you're having a girl" I say and that catches her off guard, clearly not having expected that I would be keeping tabs on her.

"Yeah...yeah I am. She's fine. The doctors say she's strong and healthy" she says and I let out a breath.

"That's a relief" I say making her thoroughly confused.

"A relief? My baby being healthy is a relief to you? The baby that I made with your fiancé? You're happy about that?" she says, getting upset already. I was prepared for this but it doesn't make it hurt less.

"Jina we didn't call you over here to fight" Jungkook says but I hold my hand up as a way to tell him it's fine. She needs to speak her mind and I'll let her this time.

"Oh so she's got you trained now huh? You think you're so mature and want to call me over and make nice now that my father and you seem to be getting serious is that what this is? Realized that if we like it or not as long as you're with my father you'll be forced to deal with me? Finally feeling guilty about making him choose you over me?"

"Okay Jina that's enough! You're not going to walk into my home and verbally abuse her like you did nothing wrong! All of our relationships have been destroyed because of what you did. Not her" Jungkook says, putting her in her place since he had yet to do that since this whole mess started.

"So you're still choosing her over me" she scoffs, shaking her head.

"That's not what this is about. We wanted you to come over here so we could make amends but it's clear that you're not ready for that yet" Jungkook sighs, and Jina makes moves like she's going to get up but I jump in to try and stop her.

"Jina please, just...just let me say what I need to say and if you really want to leave then I won't stop you and I won't contact you ever again" I say and she seems tired enough after the harsh words she had thrown at us so she does a little wave in the air as a way to tell me to get on with it.

"What happened between us sucked and I was hurt, I still am hurt but that's besides the point. Our relationship might not ever go back to the way it was and there's always gonna be that level of hurt or even resentment between us potentially for years to come. The fact of the matter at least on my side is I want to clear the air between us. We were friends and we have some fucked up history now but that doesn't mean that I stopped caring about you" I say and it's at those words that I see the slightest change in her expression.

"Six years of friendship was broken up and it's hurt more than I thought it would. I've wanted to reach out, I wanted to talk to you and ask you questions about it but I knew that that wouldn't do either of us any good" I continue and I see the tiniest nod of her head.

"I know you might not want me in your life anymore and I respect that but I hope that you'll allow me to be in your daughter's. No matter the situation in which she was conceived she's still your daughter and I care for her. I know it might be selfish of me to say all of this but I just hope you'll understand" I wrap up and let out a small breath.

"I don't hate you Jina" I finish off, tentatively reaching for her hand that's resting on her knee, "I might've for a little while and there might be a little part of me that's always going to be hurt by what you had done but I just wanted you to know" I end and let a pregnant pause linger in the air for a while.

It's only broken up a few minutes later with a sniffle coming from her, having looked down at her lap to hide her emotions from us making her reaction catch us off guard.

"Jina" I whisper and soon comes a choked back sob leaving me kneeling down in front of her and cupping her cheek. "Hey. Hey it's okay" I do my best to calm her but she shakes her head and pulls me into a bone crushing embrace, her sobs being muffled by my shoulder that she's buried her face into, the shaking of her body from the sheer force of them though is not as easily concealable.

Jungkook in the meantime has gotten up and placed a strong hand on her shoulder, showing her that he's still here for her too making her sobbing pick back up.

As minutes turn to many more she finally stops shaking, her sobs slowed down to shaky breaths and suddenly turned to hiccups making me chuckle and push her back a bit.

"Feeling better?" I say, my tone soft and my hand on her cheek again even softer and she nods followed by another sniffle quickly ending with another hiccup.

"A little" she mumbles and I nod, giving her a lopsided smile before handing her the water bottle Jungkook's come back with along with a fresh box of tissues.

I give her space to breathe once she started to chug the bottle and sit back down in my original place with her coming up for air a few seconds later.

"Um, can I use the restroom?" she asks and Jungkook nods, helping her up when he sees her struggling a little with her belly getting in the way and leading her halfway before coming back over to me once she's closed the door.

"You think she's okay?" he whispers and I nod. "She will be" I say and hold my hand out for him as a way to gently pull him back down on the couch with me.

After Jina's taken a bit of a breather she comes out, no doubt having tried to splash some cold water on her face to stop her eyes from swelling, walking back over to us and taking her seat again.

We all sit there in silence again and once I see Jungkook getting fidgety I decide to give all of us something else to focus on.

"Wait here" I say softly and Jina nods, her head still facing her lap just like before and only lifting it once I've placed our gift for her on the coffee table in front of her.

"What's all this?" she says, her head tilting side to side as she tentatively touches a couple of the items in the basket. "Well ever since I found out you were having a girl I've been buying things here and there and well..." I trail off, the sheer volume of items being a tad bit overwhelming.

"How long have you known I was having a girl?" she asks, her voice a little horse and I stop to think for a second. "About a month and a half I think" I say and she hums.

"You must've gotten something every other day from the looks of it" she chuckles a little and pull out a little stuffed rabbit I had gotten.

"I got some stuff for you too" I say and pull out the smaller bag full of the items I had gotten for her. "I would've put it all together but it didn't fit" I say sheepishly and I see her smile widen a bit more.

"We really would love to be a part of your life again Jina" I say after a while and she smiles to herself. "Take some time though to think things through. I'm not trying to force you into it but again...I just wanted you to know" I say, my tone getting softer towards the end.

She response with a soft 'Thank you' and after another minute or so of silence I get up and place a hand on Jungkook's shoulder.

"I'll let you guys have some alone time but thank you Jina for hearing me out" I say and she nods again and I excuse myself, removing the pressure of having her feel the need to respond further but before I head upstairs she calls out for me making me stop my journey up the stairs.

"Thank you...for everything" she says with a weak smile and I simply give her one back, finishing my ascent and head to Jungkook's room, knowing it's the room that is furthest away from the living room to sincerely give them their privacy.

~~~~~

An hour or so Jungkook comes looking for me and flops down on his bed next to me making the bed bounce. I chuckle and angle my body towards him and run my fingers through his hair, knowing it'll help him calm down since he seems drained after our eventful evening.

"She gone?" I ask and he nods. "She told me to tell you goodbye for her" he mumbles and closes his eyes, letting out a big sigh. "Well I'd say that's a good sign?" I say and he nods, rubbing his face with both of his hands before finally turning his attention back over to me.

"Thank you" he breathes out and I hum. "How was your guy's talk?" I ask, continuing to comb my fingers through his hair. "It went alright. You definetly took the edge off for me so it was easier to level with her with her walls still down a bit" he relays and turns on his side now fully facing me.

He watches me for a little while and I smile, "What?" and he just smiles back. "I'm just thinking about how I chose the right person to fall in love with" he says easily, making me almost not catch the sincerity of it.

"You can't just say things like that" I scoff and lay down on my back, placing my hands over my face to hide my cheesy grin. "Hey it took me almost forty years to find you and six more until I could finally say it so I'm just trying to make up for lost time" he chuckles and I flip over onto my stomach.

"Yeah and almost twenty of those years I wasn't even thought of" I say into the pillow and he hums and pats my ass a few times. "Exactly my point" and I groan at that.

"You know you keep on bringing things up that point out our age difference recently. Are you trying to scare me away?" I ask, turning my face onto my cheek so I can look at him. "Is it working?" he says with a devious glint in his eye that tells me he knows the answer already.

"No" I narrow my eyes at him and his grin gets wider.

"Then you have nothing to worry about"

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cyberhughes · 3 months ago

Note

congrats on 200 again!! i hope soon you’ll be able to add an extra zero to that 🤞

can i request a quinn hughes (duh) angst with prompt #16

i can’t wait to see what u cook up 👩🏻‍🍳

ps i better be crying after reading or u failed 😢

cyberhughes 200 follower special ⋆ .˚

rum & coke coming up!!

prompt #16: "would i lie to you?"

warnings: angst angst angst...mentions of sex but it's not very descriptive

isaaaa i love you. i INSTANTLY knew what to write w this one i had to pause writing what was in my drafts cause this one was STUCK on my brain. i hope it's as gut wrenching as you hoped it'd be :p

ps…for the extra heartbreak listen to chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey. you’re welcome

prompt list

quinn had been distant these past few weeks, so distant it had felt like you were living alone. you'd only see him in passing, a quick morning kiss as he left for practice while you sat alone, eating the breakfast you had prepared for the two of you, but of course he needed to leave early. you'd often find yourself going to bed alone, waking up in the late hours of the night to see his back turned towards you, your body cold from the absence of his touch.

it felt like he was sailing away, leaving you stranded on an island alone, and you didn't know how to call him back.

you thought that maybe it was your fault, had you gotten too comfortable in your relationship? you didn't find yourself doing your makeup or dressing up as much, and maybe he wanted to be able to show off instead of having to hide you. maybe you would just have to show him that you were still the same girl you were when you met him.

and so, for the whole afternoon you had spent your time cooking a homemade dinner. you didn't cook anything too extravagant often, but you needed this to be special. you had called your mom for her recipes, listening to her guidance as you carefully crafted your meal.

everything was set up strategically on the table, you had pulled out a tablecloth that you never used, gone out and bought a few candles for ambiance. you loosely tied your hair up, and put on a simple red dress that was growing lonely in your closet, the same dress you had worn when you met quinn that night at the bar.

now all there was to do, was wait.

you read a few chapters of your book, scrolled through pinterest, walked around your apartment, organizing things that had already been organized a hundred times.

8:00 pm.

he was supposed to be home around 6, but you brushed it off. you made a million excuses for him in your head, maybe there was traffic, maybe he needed to have an emergency meeting with his teammates. but nothing you came up with could ease the feeling in your gut.

the food was already cold, and the candles had been burning too long, and you thought that maybe you'd be spending the night without the feeling of his arms around you yet again.

just as you stood up to start putting the food away you heard the lock click.

you stood frozen as you watched him walk in. his eyes were tired, his mouth fixed in a slight frown. taking his keys out of the lock, he looked up to the display.

"y/n..." he spoke your name, barely above a whisper as you walked toward him.

"i made you dinner." your voice was shaky as you tried to prevent yourself from crying, you didn't know why you would cry, he was home now.

"you didn't have to do this." he sighed, feeling exhausted from his long day. you helped him take his jacket off, fingers lingering on him before you moved to hang it up. you didn't reply, unsure of what to say. "you should have just started eating without me." he said and you bit your lip, unsure of how to reply.

he noticed the way your eyes were glassy from the tears that formed and he exhaled, "i'm sorry. i didn't mean anything by that. thank you, y/n." but you knew what he meant. he didn't want to have to entertain you after a stressful day.

neither of you spoke as you ate, you simply sat there feeling the tension grow stronger, and your heart break into more pieces.

"why were you late?" you asked mindlessly, toying with the salad on your plate. he shook his head, "bunch of media stuff." you knew he was lying of course, he always poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue when he lied.

you nodded as you stared intensely at the food on your plate. you were sure that if you took another bite you might throw up.

"is there someone else?" you asked quietly, but he could barely hear you. "what was that?" he took a bite of pasta into his mouth, not looking at you once.

"is there someone else?" you voice cracked and he finally looked at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he swallowed his bite. "what?" you hated the way he was looking at you, like you were on the verge of uncovering something you didn't truly want to know. "no, no there isn't y/n, why would you even say that?"

you took a deep breath, "you...you're never home. you never tell me you love me anymore." a tear fell down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, not wanting to seem pathetic. he closed his eyes and sighed, processing what you were saying.

you watched as he stood up from his seat, moving towards you and kneeling down, taking your hands in his, a feeling of comfort you hadn't felt in a while.

he tilted his head to the right, "would i lie to you?" he stared into your eyes with ruth.

maybe you had overreacted. he had an insane career, of course his schedule would be busy.

"no, you wouldn't. i'm sorry quinn." you let another tear fall and he swiped it away, thumb caressing your cheek and you leaned into his touch. "don't be sorry, how about we just go to bed, hm?" he suggested and you nodded, letting him lead you to bed.

you savored the way his fingers felt on your skin as he helped you out of your dress, taking your hair down and moving it to the side and he pressed kisses along your neck. you felt your heart tighten at the feeling, it had been too long since he lingered on you like this.

maybe things were going back to normal.

after that night, he had made it a point to have more meaningful interactions with you. staying a bit later to eat breakfast with you, cuddling with you on the couch as you watched your show, trailing kisses up your thighs as he got closer to your core, wanting to show you that he still loved you.

everything had gone back to normal.

your boss had let you off work early one day, so you decided to pick up a pizza from his favorite place to surprise him. you felt giddy as you drove home, excited to hear about his day and feel his lips on yours.

your steps were quick walked up to your apartment, nearly tripping up the stairs in excitement. you tried to open the door quietly, not wanting him to know you had gotten home just yet. you pushed the door open, feeling it caught on something. you squeezed through the small gap, looking down to see what had blocked it.

you furrowed your brows in confusion.

you don't remember owning a pair of red heels like that.

you placed the pizza down on the counter gently, feeling the unease in your stomach grow as you called out his name, not receiving another answer.

you crept to your bedroom, hearing some shuffling. the door had been cracked open slightly and you peeked inside, not yet opening it.

you slapped a hand over your mouth at the sight in front of you, feeling like you had just been stabbed in the heart by your own lover.

there he was, balls deep in some other girl, whispering words of affection you had never heard from him before. you couldn't take your eyes away as you watched the way he fucked her with more passion than you had ever seen from him.

"quinn..." he groaned at the way she moaned his name, nipping at her neck. "promise you're gonna leave her?" he laughed at her words, picking up the pace of his hips as he spoke into her ear,

"would i lie to you?"

#˗ˏˋ 200 special ˎˊ˗#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes angst

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drabbles-mc · 8 months ago

Text

It's Inevitable

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, pining, alcohol

30 Fic Challenge with prompts from This List: rubatosis- the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: i had the most ridiculous about of fun writing this for Bob. i adore him more than words can say 🥰

Bob felt like he had been living in a constant state of disbelief ever since he met you. From the day that the universe, or more specifically Bradley, put him into your orbit, all the events that followed felt like one little surprise after the other. He considered himself infinitely lucky for it.

When he mentioned to Bradley off-hand that they were going to have him stationed in California for a while, long enough for him to justify looking for his own place off-base, he had just been making conversation. They had just been talking about next moves and Bob felt like it was fitting, mentioning that he was going to be looking for a place, maybe even a roommate since it was going to be on relatively short-notice.

“If you’re cool with a roommate, one of my buddies actually kinda needs one,” Bradley mentioned off-hand as they racked up for another pool game at The Hard Deck.

Bob perked up slightly at that. A roommate recommendation from someone he knew seemed preferable than the alternative. He figured that Bradley wouldn’t have brought it up if it was a recipe for disaster.

“Yeah?” Bob tried to sound interested, but not too much so. There were no real guarantees, after all.

Bradley nodded before leaning down to break for the start of the game. “Yeah. Funny because we were just talking about how putting out a Craigslist Ad felt like signing up to be on an episode of a True Crime podcast.”

Bob chuckled at that. “Kind of does, yeah.”

Bradley watched Bob take his shot, not allowing the amusement he was currently feeling to show on his face. “I can introduce you guys. Wanna meet back here Friday? When Trace is done making an example out of you to the newbies?”

There was no malice to Bradley’s statement, so Bob had no problem laughing right along with him. When the laughter died down, Bob agreed to the meetup suggestion. There was a tentative feeling of hopefulness in his chest. After all, if this person was friends with Bradley, how bad could they really be?

~*~

You buried your face in your hands as you shook your head. When Bradley had asked to stop by because he had news for you, you didn’t think he was stopping by to tell you that he had gone out hunting and gathering a new roommate for you. You hadn’t asked him to do that—you hadn’t asked him for anything in regards to your living arrangements, actually. And that’s exactly what you’d told him when he said he’d found you a brand-new roommate.

“I don’t even know this guy.”

Bradley laughed and shrugged as he hopped up to sit on the edge of your kitchen counter. For how comfortable he was, you were surprised that he hadn’t taken the opportunity to move in after your ex moved out. He treated your apartment like it was his own house anyway.

“I know him. That’s not enough for you?”

You shot him a look over your shoulder as you went and grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. “No. It’s not.” You tossed him his own can before getting one for yourself. “You saw what I went through getting the last man out of my apartment—why are you inviting another one in without telling me?”

He laughed as he watched you dramatically swing the refrigerator door shut. “Okay, come on, you can’t compare him to—”

“I can’t compare him to anyone because I haven’t met him.”

“Well if you’d let me get to the end of my story, you would have the solution to that problem.” He paused and waited for you to motion for him to continue before saying, “I told him we’d meet him at The Hard Deck Friday night.”

“I should flatten this can against your skull,” you said with a semi-affectionate roll of your eyes.

There was a long pause, one accompanied by a smirk on Bradley’s face that had no real right to be there. “I’ll pick you up?”

Letting out a deep sigh, you gave in with a nod. Worst case scenario, you wouldn’t walk away from the night with a new roommate but you’d at least get to throw a couple drinks on Bradley’s tab. That was worth a little bit of something.

~*~

Bob was checking the time on his phone, his beer on the bar barely touched. When he’d texted Bradley earlier in the day, everything was still going how it was supposed to, so now he just had to sit there and wait. He could do that.

When he heard the door to the bar open, he turned and looked out of habit. He saw Bradley walk in and he felt his shoulders relax in relief. When he focused enough to see who it was that Bradley had walked in with, though, his relief was almost immediately replaced by confusion. The two of you were talking, laughing as you wove through the other people in the bar, but it still didn’t sink in with Bob that you were the ‘buddy’ who was in need of a roommate. For a moment he was just assuming that you were a girlfriend tagging along that Bradley had failed to mention.

Bob almost got up out of his seat when the two of you stopped in front of him—the only thing that kept him in place was the lingering sense of confusion. He looked back and forth between you and Bradley. He had no chance at guessing what exactly your expression meant, but he’d seen the smug look on Bradley’s face enough times to know that there was something afoot. It wasn’t the time to ask, though. Not in front of you.

“So,” you broke the silence with an easy smile, “I hear that Bradshaw promised you my second bedroom?”

Your comment got a chuckle out of Bob, something to ease the tension a little bit, not that it did anything to quiet the chaos in his head at the moment. It did earn you a shoulder-bump from Bradley, who was shaking his head at you. “I didn’t promise him anything. He said he needed a spot, I said I had a friend who needed a roommate.” He shrugged. “All true.”

You gave a dismissive roll of your eyes before returning your attention to the man sitting on the barstool watching all of this unfold. As you introduced yourself, you wondered if the slightly bewildered expression on his face was a constant one, eyes a little wide behind the lenses of his glasses, nervous smile pulling at his lips.

The three of you made a few minutes of small talk before you ducked out for a moment to answer a phone call from work. Both men watched you as you walked away, and as you were bringing the phone to your ear, Bradley turned to try and pick apart the expression on Bob’s face.

“So?” he asked, leaving it as open-ended as possible.

Bob pried his gaze off you so that he was looking at the man standing next to him instead. He shook his head slightly. “You didn’t say—you made it seem like—” He pushed his glasses up his nose, a nervous habit he had yet to shake.

Bradley laughed. “C’mon, she’s not that bad.”

“I didn’t say she was,” Bob corrected him quietly. “She wouldn’t rather have…you know…”

It was impossible for him not to at least chuckle at the way Bob was skirting around the things that he wanted to say. “She just wants someone who doesn’t make a mess and who pays rent on time. And who won’t eat her leftovers out of the fridge.”

“Last one sounds like you.”

He clapped Bob on the back with a grin. “That’s why I’m not the one moving in.” He paused, and he could see the thoughts going at a mile a minute in Bob’s head. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t think you guys would hit it off.”

Bob wanted to make a comment to the effect of, “That’s kind of what I’m worried about,” but you reappeared before he could.

You plopped down on the stool beside his, giving a quick apology to the both of them. Looking back and forth between them, you wanted to ask what they’d been saying in your absence, but you had a feeling that if you needed to know, Bradley would tell you in the car on the way home.

Moments after you sat down, Penny materialized with a drink for you, and she handed a bottle to Bradley as well. You thanked her, amused that Bradley actually was letting you rack up his tab. Once you took a sip, you turned to Bob.

“So, is this the part where we get to play Twenty Questions?”

He laughed as he shrugged, fingers drumming against his leg. “I guess so.”

You smiled as you nodded. “Alright.” You motioned for Bradley to sit down next to you. “Bradshaw can play referee.”

~*~

Three weeks later the moving truck was parked outside your apartment building and there were boxes piling up in what had previously been a spare room that was sometimes your office, but more often just a place for all of your clean but unfolded laundry to hang out.

Bob was timid those first couple of weeks living together. It was endearing in a way that you hadn’t expected—most of Bradley’s friends from the Navy didn’t seem to be wired like that. Bob was a nice change of pace from it all. Every time he wanted to move or add something somewhere, he always asked, always had that same little nervous smile on his face when he did. You never told him no.

The first month or so of living together was just a big old learning curve. You learned that the two of you ran on different rhythms and schedules. Bob was an early bird, whether that was by choice or necessity you never asked. You were a night owl, though. Always had been. Luckily, you also learned that Bob was a heavy sleeper and that he was quiet in the morning when he was getting ready, so the two of you didn’t infringe upon each other much.

You learned that Bob liked to cook, was good at it even, but still hadn’t mastered how to just cook for one. That was how he learned that you had no problem doing the dishes if he was okay with sharing his food. He never told you no either.

Bob learned that most of your spare time was spent with your nose in a book or a notebook splayed across your lap while you wrote. He only ever asked once what you were writing, and when you gave him the vague answer of, “Stories,” he gave you a smile and a nod and went back to ironing his uniform. You learned that the only times Bob stayed up late was when he was playing videogames with his friends. Most of them were from the Navy, some of them were from back home. You knew which ones were which because his Navy friends had their callsigns in their gamertags—so original of them. That was also how you learned that a good handful of his friends in the Navy weren’t very good at first-person shooter games, which was deeply ironic given their professions.

By the time the third month of living together had come and gone, Bob also learned that he was falling in love with you a little bit. Or a lot. The amount of it didn’t matter, he supposed. None of it was going to help him.

~*~

You enjoyed living with Bob more than you thought you were going to. You had been willing to settle for a roommate that you could at least tolerate. You just needed someone that you could exist in the same space with sometimes when necessary. But after those first couple of weeks, it felt like almost all the time that the two of you were home at the same time was spent in the same space. Or you’d be in the living room while he was in the kitchen. You’d been ready to hole up in your room a little more often, but it never felt like you had to.

Bradley was as incessant as ever, arguing that he now had twice as many reasons to drop by unannounced now that Bob was living with you. You both knew that it was an argument you’d never win, and it wasn’t as though you didn’t enjoy his company too. By the time the first month passed, Bradley had lightened up on his weekly inquiry of, “Is this guy givin’ you any trouble?” You all knew that he never was.

You’d been waiting for the day that the surprised look would fade from Bob’s face whenever you got home, or emerged from your room, but it never did. From surprised, to smiling, to going back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there. Round and round again.

Bob never thought about how many different names he had until the two of you really got comfortable around each other. Most of the time he was Bob, which was what he was used to both on and off the base. That was the status quo.

But every now and then you’d switch it up. Like if he startled you coming home from his early-morning run, or if you didn’t hear him walk into the kitchen from his room. Then you’d call him Robert, in that fake-chastising tone that always had you trying not to laugh. Or sometimes, when he was getting frustrated about something that didn’t really matter too much in the grand scheme of things, you’d hit him with a little pat on the shoulder and a, “Calm down, Lieutenant Floyd.” And in moments like that he could hear it in your voice how long you and Bradley had been friends. If you tried to get his attention more than twice and still didn’t have any luck, that’s when he’d hear a sing-songy callout of Bobby coming from the other side of the apartment. That one always got both of you laughing.

You could’ve called him damn near anything, though, and he would’ve come running. He wondered how long he’d be able to keep his mouth shut about it all.

~*~

The two of you had been living together for six months the first time he put his foot in his mouth about it. His only saving grace, if he could even try to call it that, was that he’d said it to Bradley and not directly to you.

It made Bradley completely miss his shot in their game of pool, but he didn’t even care. He stood upright, pointing at Bob from across the table with his pool stick. “What was that?”

Bob’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He didn’t need a mirror to know that his face was turning beet red. He could feel the warmth racing up the column of his neck and into his cheeks. “N-nothing. I didn’t—nothing.”

Bradley’s grin was so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t crack clean open. “That was something.” He walked over, paying no mind to the fact that Bob was trying to look at anything but him. “She know? You say anything to her?”

Now it was Bob’s turn to miss his shot. His heart was beating fast enough that he thought it might short-out and stop working. If Rooster was trying to get some eye contact out of him, it certainly did the trick.

“No.” Bob’s answer managed to come out clear and timid all at once.

He leaned back casually against the edge of the pool table. “Why not?”

Bob shook his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “’Cause we’re roommates.”

“So?” Bradley let the look of disbelief on Bob’s face act as a response, and he continued. “You should tell her. Want me to tell her?”

Bob’s eyes popped open so wide that Bradley was shocked they didn’t break the lenses of his glasses. “Please don’t.”

“Want me to do some recon?” He stood upright again, no longer using the pool table for support. “Find out if she’s—”

“No.”

He chuckled, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. None of this was surprising to him, really. He knew it from the second that Bob saw you when the two of them walked into The Hard Deck that day. He was honestly a little surprised that it took this long for Bob to slip up to him about it. The kid looked like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“She hasn’t dated anyone since you moved in, has she?”

Bob shrugged. “No one that she’s brought around, at least. But she also just broke up with—”

Bradley waved off the sentence before Bob could even finish it. “That was almost eight months ago.” He paused, knowing that he had the answer to the question he was about to ask but it wasn’t going to stop him from asking it. “You’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

The red in his cheeks got a little darker but he didn’t say anything, instead just shaking his head.

“So I’ll ask her,” Bradley said, like that was the only rational response to the evidence laid out before him.

“Don’t ask her.” Bob’s statement was somewhere between an order and a plea, not hitting either note quite right.

Bradley held his hands up in surrender, but the smirk still lingering on his face didn’t make the truce feel too believable. “Alright, fine. I won’t say anything. But, if you change your mind,” he lined up his next shot, “let me know.”

~*~

Bob never brought it up again. Truthfully, he was still kicking himself for letting any of it slip in the first place. He kept waiting for another comment, another question from Bradley. Anytime that he came over to the apartment, Bob felt himself get a little more on-edge. When he could hear the two of you on the phone, he couldn’t stop the way his heart started to beat a little faster. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Bradley to open his mouth and say something.

Weeks ticked by with Bob waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’d get home, or hang up the phone, and he’d sit there with bated breath. He’d try to look like he was focusing on his laptop, or the gaming controller in his hand, but he’d be watching you in his peripheral.

And, of course, you never said anything about it. Bradley apparently never said anything about it. For all the buttons that he liked to push, Bob couldn’t deny that he was surprised that his friend was managing to keep his mouth shut about this one. Maybe that was because Bradley had the feeling it was a lost cause. Bob tried not to think about it too much.

He definitely tried not to think about it on nights like tonight, when both of you were camped out together on the sofa. The original plan hadn’t really been for the two of you to watch a movie together—Bob had gotten home later than usual and you were already about ten minutes into the film when he walked through the door. He’d had every intention of just showering and going to bed, but when he saw you curled up on the couch, throw blanket across you and an oversized bowl of popcorn in your lap, suddenly sleep didn’t seem like such a big deal.

He’d leaned over the back of the couch, a smile stretching across his face as he said, “Gonna share that or should I make another bag?”

You yelped in surprise, nearly tossing the bowl full of popcorn in the process. “Robert!” You laughed, hand resting over your heart like that would get it to slow down. “You can’t do that when there is a serial killer on the screen.”

He cracked a grin. “Sorry.”

You held the bowl up for him to reach easier. “I will share though, despite your entrance.”

He’d grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn before walking off towards his room. “I’m just gonna get changed.”

“Okay.” You tossed a piece of popcorn up in the air and caught it in your mouth. “Hurry up before someone else dies.”

Now here you were, the only thing separating the two of you was the bowl of popcorn between you. Bob was paying enough attention to the movie to know what was going on, but he’d be lying if he tried to say that most of his attention was still going to you. Something about the fact that you’d chosen to put on a scary movie and yet you still seemed shocked every time something scary happened.

Like you were reading his thoughts, you spoke up as you half-covered your eyes. “I don’t know why I do this to myself.”

He chuckled. “We can put something else on.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I’m committed now. I need to know what happens.”

His smile grew a little wider, the rapid beat of his heart having nothing to do with what was happening on-screen. “Want me to tell you what happens?”

You looked over at him. “You’ve seen this before?”

He shook his head. “No, but I can probably still tell you what happens.”

You rolled your eyes but you were still smiling, still blocking part of your view of the television on purpose like that would stop the things on screen from happening. “Very funny.”

“I think—”

Whatever he was going to say next got lost somewhere between his brain and his lips because you were placing the bowl of popcorn in his lap and scooting closer to him. You leaned so that your head was resting against the outside of his arm, throw blanket pulled up to your chin. Your legs were pulled up onto the couch, half-curled underneath you as you situated yourself against him. There was no hesitation in any move that you made, and Bob was trying to figure out if he was dreaming, and if he wasn’t he was trying to figure out how to not spontaneously combust.

“If this gets any worse,” you said, looking up at him for a moment, “then I’ll ask for your predictions.”

He was glad it was dark enough in the living room so that you couldn’t see how red his face was. All you could really see was him nodding, the reflection of the television on his lenses. “O-okay.”

The two of you managed to make it to the end of the movie, but you were practically curled so far into him that Bob thought you were just going to melt right into his arm. He didn’t mind it—he wished that the movie had dragged on for a little longer.

When the credits started to roll, you let out a deep sigh of relief but you didn’t peel yourself away from him. Bob couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh. “This why I’ve never seen you watch a scary movie before?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Like, twice a year I try to convince myself that I don’t get that scared.”

“It’s working real good, then,” he joked.

You laughed, blanket still pulled up over your shoulders. “I’d say so.”

He reached for the controller. “Want me to put something less scary on?”

You nodded, reaching out of you blanket cocoon to grab a handful of popcorn. “Yes please.”

He was expecting you to pull away once there was a comedy safely playing on-screen. He waited for the warmth of you and the blanket you were buried under to disappear. But it didn’t. You stayed there just like that, casually stealing one handful of popcorn at a time till there was nothing but kernels left.

You made it halfway through the next film before you looked up at him again and said, “You’re up way past your bedtime.”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Just as he finished saying that, he yawned. You smiled. “You sure about that?”

He felt his face heat up. “I’m good.”

“Slumber party rules, you know. First one to fall asleep gets it.”

He felt himself melting back into the couch cushions a little more, body finally starting to relax more from tiredness than anything else. “What’s the punishment? Sharpie mustache?”

You laughed, resituating against him as you did. “No, no. That’d be too mean—can’t have you walking around looking like Bradshaw.”

~*~

When you woke up in the morning, you were still on the couch. Alone. You had a pillow propped nicely underneath your head and rather than the throw blanket that you’d been using during the movie, you had a real comforter draped over you. It took a moment for you to put it all together.

You got yourself half upright, propped up on your elbows. Through half-open lids you looked around the apartment, the kitchen and the living room. You could see that it was empty but even so you called out a groggy, raspy, “Bob?”

When you were met with silence, you fell back against the couch again. Dragging your hands across your eyes, you tried to wake yourself up a little more. You stared up at the ceiling, watching lights and shadows fly across it as cars drove by your building. People who were up and about much earlier than you.

You weren’t sure how much time you’d spent simply lying there debating whether or not you wanted to get off the couch and attempt to salvage what was left of your morning. Just as you were getting ready to peel the blanket off you when you heard the sound of keys in the lock on your apartment door.

For a moment you about to sit upright, but then you could hear how quietly and slowly he was trying to enter the apartment. All those mornings sneaking in quietly after his runs so he didn’t wake you, and this was the first time you were not only awake, but ready for it. You heard him toe off his shoes, heard the rustling of a bag that you were desperately hoping had donuts or bagels inside of it.

You were so busy being excited by the sound of iced coffee rattling against its cup that you almost missed the sound of Bob murmuring to himself. You couldn’t quiet make out what he was saying exactly, only that he was whispering to himself as he set things down on the counter. Waiting a moment, you strained your ear in hopes to get a better idea of what he was saying.

When he stopped talking altogether, you sat upright. His back was to you as he pulled the drinks from the tray they were in, opened up the bag of pastries he’d grabbed. You smiled at the sight of him, a warm flutter in your chest.

“Got enough to share?” you piped up.

For once it was Bob’s turn to flinch, to spin on his heel in shock. His eyes were wide, paper bag clutched tightly in his hand. He was certain that if his life had been a cartoon you would’ve seen the outline of his heart beating in his chest.

“Um, yeah.” He nodded, holding up one of the coffees as though to prove he was telling the truth. “Yours.”

Standing up off the couch, you kept the blanket wrapped around you like the most oversized shawl you’d ever seen as you padded over to where he was standing in the kitchen. Reaching out, you took the iced coffee from him, a smile on your face as you took a sip. It was impossible to miss the way that Bob was looking at you, looking like he had something to say. You waited for it, but it never came.

“Rehearsing lines?” you asked casually as you reached for the bag he was holding.

It seemed to snap him out of the trance he was in. “What?”

You pulled out one of the donuts in the bag. “When you came in,” you took a bite, “thought I heard you talking.”

His eyes widened a little bit, cheeks starting to flush pink. “Oh.”

You smiled, tilting your head. “What?”

He picked up his own cup of coffee. He stared at it for a moment, swirling it around to buy himself a few extra seconds. His heart was beating so hard that he was expecting it to cause ripples in the coffee he was holding.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat, looking you in the eyes, “yeah.”

You set your coffee down, suddenly feeling a little foolish with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I’m okay.”

Your smile was soft, warm. “You sure? Looking a little wistful over there.” You saw the way a few sentences started and died on the tip of his tongue. Your lips started to dip down into a frown. “Bob?”

“I really, uh, I really like…living here with you.”

Something akin to relief was creeping its way across your chest and you allowed yourself a small smile. “I like you living here.” You tilted your head slightly. “Why do you look so worried about that?”

He managed a chuckle of sort. “Because,” with each word he tried to get out, he felt like his heart was going to beat clean out of his chest, like his ribs weren’t strong enough to keep it in place, “I don’t want that to change.”

“Why would it?”

“I love you,” he blurted out. “I…I love you.” The blush on his face darkened and he gave a weak smile. “That’s not how I rehearsed it.”

You let out a laugh, one that was choked with emotion. It felt impossible to get the words out that you wanted, like they were all getting stuck in the back of your throat. You could see it on Bob’s face that he was trying to come up with the next thing to say.

Before either of you could implode, you collapsed the distance between you and kissed him. The blanket that had been around your shoulders fell to the floor as your lips caught his. There was a split second of hesitation, but once Bob realized that it was real, that this was all happening, he wrapped his arms around you. His hands splayed across your back, pinning you tight to him.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, leaning into him until he was snug between you and the counter behind him. Bob soaked it is, the way it felt to have the warmth of your body pressed against his. He was certain that this would be the time you’d hear his racing heartbeat, be able to feel it since you were so close. For once he hoped that you would.

You pulled away, just enough to be able to get a good look at his face. He brought one hand up to fix his glasses, the other staying on the small of your back. You toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as you tried to commit everything about how he looked in that moment to memory.

“I love you too,” you said, voice soft when you finally had it in you to string the words together.

You saw the smile on his face and then you felt it as he kissed you again. It was all laughter and soft touches and wandering hands. Months of bottled up feelings starting to reach the surface. With your palm resting against his chest, you could feel the speed of his heartbeat, but he didn’t seem nervous now. For a moment you were surprised to find that you weren’t nervous either. Then you felt the pad of his thumb against your cheek as he pulled you in for another kiss and you finally felt like you were home. And there was nothing more comforting than that.

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

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makeitworse · 12 days ago

Text

LIKE A CAROUSEL

with nothing left to lose, you decide to confront your illicit past with ji-yong. old habits die hard (or maybe not at all).

⋆˙⟡ ibelongiiu part three 𓂃 c/w: fem!reader x sub!jiyong. angst | smut | fluff. age gap. cheating. conflict. breakup. confessions. endgame. nsfw content minors dni

like promised, you and ji-yong hadn’t spoken since that night. there was no “we should talk” text. no explanation of what it meant. just clean-cut silence. and that was for the better.

you went your separate ways once again— him, working on the new album. and you, going back home to your boyfriend.

you clung to the safe, mundane life you had with him. you pretended that you hadn’t just thrown it all away for a hit-and-run with your ex.

it was little more than just a singular, impulsive, meaningless night. you tell yourself ji-yong probably felt the same. and for a while, it works.

until the photos surface.

blurry, grainy; obviously shot from a phone camera with shaky hands. you could laugh at how low quality they were, if you weren’t sick to your stomach.

there’s one of you and ji-yong standing in a dimly lit corner of the chanel show. another of him leaning in closer while you’re speaking. and then one that makes your insides flare: ji-yong mid-conversation with someone else, craning his neck to stare at you from across the room.

thankfully, the articles don’t name you— just “a mystery woman spotted with g-dragon”. but, it still found its way to your boyfriend’s algorithm. he sent you the link to one with a question mark. then came another.

it wasn’t long before he finally approached you, holding out his phone.

“this was him?”

you barely glanced at the photo. the way ji-yong’s looking at you in it has been burned into your memory.

“yeah,” you answer, keeping your tone light. “it was just a surprise catch-up. i didn’t even know he’d be there.”

that part, at the least, is true.

what you neglect to mention: the locked hotel door. the drink you shared. the way ji-yong looked at you after you shoved him, like he’d let you do anything you wanted.

but for now, it’s enough to reassure your boyfriend. you just hoped that’d be the last you’d hear of it.

come february, and übermensch drops like a bomb.

his comeback dominates the media. you only skimmed a few headlines before muting all mentions of his name. they’re saying it’s dark, sexy— raw in a way that feels like the carrion of a secret dragged into the spotlight.

you can’t help but recall the lyrics he used to hum against your skin, the verses he’d draft while writing late at night. you wonder if any of the ‘just between us’ songs made it to the final cut.

of course, fate’s got a sick sense of humour.

your boyfriend walked to you in the kitchen, phone in his hand and a strange look on his face.

“have you heard this?”

your throat tightens. you know he must’ve listened to the album. it can’t be anything good.

your boyfriend presses play on a song. it’s got a sensual tone to it. ji-yong’s voice is deep, the words raw.

you realise it must be bonamana— the one that fans have been whispering about online. track seven. the confessional. the one he sounds like he’s bleeding in.

you bite the inside of your cheek, keeping your gaze ahead as you listen. your boyfriend’s studying you.

ji-yong’s quite literally rapping about a girl with someone else waiting at home, but you’re tossing up the explanations in your head— this could all just be fiction, it’s a misunderstanding..

until the song reaches a particular verse. you’re floored. ji-yong’s practically retelling your encounter that night in the hotel: how you pushed him, got on top of him.

and he put it into a song for the whole world to hear. because of course he did.

your reaction’s louder than words. your boyfriend stares at you with his jaw clenched. he pauses the song— he’s got his answer.

“it’s about you, isn’t it?” his eyes search your face. “tell me i’m wrong.”

you swallow. “it is.”

he takes a step towards you. “when.”

“it was just the one time—”

“don’t do that.” he groaned, shaking his head. “don’t act like it was meaningless when the whole fucking world knows what it meant to him.”

there’s no use fixing it. you had this coming.

you gathered your things in silence while he paced the apartment like he was still waiting for something to change. for this to somehow be just another fight, not the end.

but it was. he wanted to hash it out, find some compromise and recover from this. but you refused to stay and ruin him any more than you already have. you would at least do him that grace.

and yet, in retrospect, it almost feels like there was nothing solid to end. like you’d been in limbo the entire time— pretending something steady existed between you, when really, your heart was never his to begin with.

you zipped up your overnight bag. he stood in the doorway, watching you with a hollow look.

“i’m sorry,” you say quietly. it’s all you had left to offer him. pitiful, too little too late— especially after ji-yong had bared the truth of it all to the world, immortalising your betrayal in his music.

your now-ex didn’t yell. didn’t cry. you shared a knowing nod as you turned the door knob— the kind of look that said all the things his mouth couldn’t.

before you walked out, his voice comes softly: “you chose him. maybe not out loud, but you did.”

he’s not wrong. and what’s worse— you’ve started to think that this was always how it was going to end. you, finding your way back to ji-yong. it just shouldn’t of taken someone else’s heart as a stepping stone for you to get there.

you were two bottles of wine into your wallowing. alone in your apartment, a cigarette burning idly between your fingers that really hadn’t done much to take the edge off.

a coworker from your new firm, who’d become a good friend, was just checking in on you— and you, in your boozy woe is me state, bluntly mentioned the breakup. it was half a joke, half a cry for help. if you had sent that sober, you would’ve contemplated suicide for being so embarrassing.

she must’ve passed the word on, because hours later, your phone buzzed with a call from a familiar number. someone from your former styling team.

“we’re all going to the album listening party tonight. you could come out.” her voice is hesitant, like she’s unsure if she should be asking.

you weighed the options: a third bottle of wine, or going to your ex’s celebratory party (who was also the reason your last relationship just ended).

you couldn't decide which option would cost more of the last shred of dignity you had left.

“ah, fuck it. where do i meet you?”

guess that number’s below zero now.

the venue was all flashing lights and booming bass, full of industry faces and overlapping chatter. your back stayed glued to a wall, nursing a drink while you chatted with your old team.

your name hadn’t even been on the guest list— but someone from his team ushered you in without a second glance. you didn’t know how to feel about it. inside, you tried to ignore the way people’s gaze lingered on you, like they had a faint idea of who you were.

you watched the crowd sway to the music. personally, you weren’t paying it much mind; ji-yong had already played some of the demos for you.

but then you hear the start of one you don’t recognise. it’s groovy and upbeat— his voice doesn’t have that usual grit to it.

then the chorus comes, and your breath catches.

take me, i’m yours.

you recall hearing that before, except it was said in private— ji-yong had once cooed those words to you, gazing at you with heart-eyes while his head laid on your chest.

he must’ve wrote this while you were still together. you wonder just how much the rest of the album had your memory etched into it. is that why they called you here? how many people knew?

a lump formed in your throat. it’s all too much.

you scanned the room— searching, needing— when your eyes land on him, already looking at you. ji-yong, drink in hand, with youngbae’s arm slung over his shoulder. he looked untouchable under the pulsing red lights.

everything else around him fell away. his eyes are burning, flickering with something you can’t quite place. and when you don’t avert your eyes— he puts down his drink, and he’s moving. so you excuse yourself from the table and wade through the crowd.

you trail ji-yong to a quiet corner of the room.

as you approach, you stop in front of him, close enough to hear his breath tremble. you don’t speak first.

“didn’t think i’d see you here.” he says, quiet under the music.

“me neither.” you admit.

take me’s chorus booms in the background— ji-yong’s own voice begging to be taken by you. he huffs a shy laugh, lifting his straw hat to ruffle his hair.

how he can act so flustered, when he’s the one who put it out there for everyone (or perhaps just you) to hear. speaking of which;

”i heard bonamana,” you start. ji-yong’s head raises at that, his eyes anticipating your reaction. a smirk tugs at your lips. you scoff. “you’re a mess.”

ji-yong fidgets with his sleeves. there’s a small smile on his face. it’s cute, how shy he is. seems like he really wasn’t expecting this.

“wanna talk?”

his reply is instant, soft but certain. “not here. come with me?”

and you do. because of course you do.

ji-yong leads you into a quieter lounge room tucked away from the rest of the venue, the bass of the party muffled by the door as it clicks shut behind him.

there’s low lighting, and a velvet sofa against the wall that you perch on. ji-yong’s standing there with his hands in his pocket, his stance more relaxed.

“you really listened to it?” he asks, soft.

you met his eyes, cocking a brow. “you’ve got nerve, releasing that while i had a boyfriend.”

his mouth pulls into something between a grimace and a smile. “had?”

you sit up straighter. “well i’m here, aren’t i?”

he nods slowly. his eyes drift, avoiding yours, like he’s scared he’ll say too much if he keeps looking. your hands curl to fists in your lap.

“couldn’t this have been a phone call, ji? did you have to… sing it all?”

his head tilts back, face cracking with a smile. there’s no humour in it though— he’s trying to hold himself back.

“i thought you were done with me.” his jaw clenches. he shifts in his spot. “i got to keep you close to me when i wrote about you. even if i didn’t get to be yours.”

you’re quiet. ji-yong goes to step towards you, but restrains himself. he settles on playing with his ring instead.

“i didn’t plan this. i swear, i didn’t approach you in hong kong intending to drag you back into my life. but when i saw you..” he exhales a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut, like he’s replaying the memory of that night. “i hoped.”

he pauses, staring at you intently— like he’s daring you to look away. you hold his gaze, and he’s sure of himself enough to slowly step towards you.

“i hoped you’d still remember us the way i do.”

your throat tightens as you watch him hover above you in the chair. you stand, and your faces are dangerously close once you’re on your feet. you can hear the faintest noise from his throat.

“i can’t forget.” you murmur. “and that’s the fucking problem.”

“then let’s stop pretending.” his eyes soften. “please.”

you look at him. really look at him. and for the first time in a long time, you feel the mask slipping from your face.

and then you hear it— the intro to gyro-drop bleeding through the walls. you blink at him, registering the lyrics. ji-yong watches your reaction, face a cross between amusement and dread. your face splits in a laugh.

“you’re really letting everyone know you bottom, huh?”

he winces with a boyish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “it wouldn’t be right otherwise.”

you hum in response, pinching the brim of his hat teasingly. he watches with bated breath as you lift it from his head. tossing it to a side table, ji-yong snatches your waist into his hands with a newfound impatience.

“i missed you so much,” he says breathlessly. “been waiting for you.”

“mm, i heard.” you drawl, cupping his jaw in your palms.

and then the tension boils over. ji-yong’s yanking you into a kiss, mouths meeting with months worth of pent-up hunger. by the lapel of his jacket, you pull him down onto the couch with you, wasting no time straddling his lap.

you’re both hurried with the rocks of your hips, trading messy kisses that left your chin stained with saliva. it wasn’t long before hands were being shoved down pants, and clothes swiftly pushed to the side.

you fucked ji-yong right there on that couch. his hands on your hips, looking up at you with heart-eyes as you rutted down on his dick. he was a whining mess— sloppy thrusts trying to match your pace.

you had to muffled his mouth with a kiss as he came— you worried he’d be louder than the music.

as you both winded down from your highs, ji-yong pressed his forehead to yours, strands of hair drenched with sweat.

“i’m yours.”

and in that moment, with your heart thudding against his and your lips brushing softly, you kiss him— sweeter this time. it’s not just want, it’s a promise. and it didn’t need to be said out loud. you’re his.

the dressing room buzzes with a life that could only be described as an organised chaos— stylists flitting around with last-minute touch-ups, his team checking monitors and cue sheets, the distant roar of the crowd beyond the stage.

in the eye of the storm, ji-yong’s calm. he’s seated in a chair at the vanity, head tipped back and eyes closed while you adjust his chains.

“these will wilt if you keep sweating,” you tease, poking the fabric of his rose jacket.

he cracks one eye open with a smile. “promise to dry me off?”

you roll your eyes and flick his ear, earning a low chuckle from him.

you check your watch— showtime’s in just a few minutes. ji-yong’s hand finds your waist with ease, tugging you closer so you’re standing between his legs.

instinctively, you go smooth over the fabric of his shirt, fix up the neckline. despite being well-established at your job, you still find yourself reverting back to your habits from being ji-yong’s stylist.

you brush a stray strand of hair from his face. “you nervous?”

he shrugs. “night can’t get much better than this.”

you arch a brow. he cracks open an eye to scrunch his nose at you, pulling you down for a kiss.

it’s brief, a soft press of lips, but it grounds you both. a reminder of what it took to get here. of the time you spent apart, the quiet hope buried under all the words unsaid.

how now, you can kiss in front of his staff without anyone staring sideways. how you can support him before the first concert of the tour, by his side and in the public eye.

how he’ll go out on that stage, and the crowd will sing along to the words he wrote in reminiscence of you. hoping you’d come back to him. waiting.

a crew member distantly yells the two-minute call.

ji-yong exhales, taking your hand in his. you give him a reassuring squeeze.

“i’ll be watching from the side.”

“well, now i have to do my best, don’t i?”

you watched him as he positioned himself on the platform, giving you one last smile as ji-yong, before he emerged on the stage as g-dragon.

ji-yong to you, g-dragon to the audience. and all of him, belonging to you.

a/n: and it’s done! hope you enjoyed reading this lil series as much as i did writing it, thank you all for readin ♡

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#gdragon x reader #g dragon x reader #gdragon smut #bigbang x reader #kwon jiyong x reader #sub!gdragon #sub!bigbang #g dragon smut #bigbang smut

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usagii-bun · 12 days ago

Text

𝐝𝐫.𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 ‧₊˚ (fluff)

╰┈➤ fem reader. reader is haitham’s patient (this may be a bit self indulgent hehe). mild flirting. fluff. attempt at comedy, just a drabble ig, i love alhaitham fr— just wanted to write something small before disappearing again ehe. masterlist

The first time you met Dr. Alhaitham, he walked in like a problem you weren’t ready to solve.

The door eased open with a soft click, and you barely had a second to breathe before he stepped through. And just like that, every rational thought in your head short-circuited.

He was tall—so tall—and built like the universe had carefully balanced strength and elegance just for him. His white coat hung open, effortlessly draped over broad shoulders, the fabric swaying slightly with each step like it knew how lucky it was. Underneath, his black button up shirt fit too well and his tie perfectly in place.

But it was his face that hit the hardest.

Angular jaw. Perfectly cut cheekbones. Lips set in a neutral line that looked like they’d never curve into anything as mundane as a smile. His hair—a soft grey, slightly tousled like he'd run a hand through it absentmindedly—framed his face with just enough dishevelment to be maddening.

And then his eyes met yours.

Cool, turquoise irises - pupils rimmed with amber. Focused. Sharp. Like a lens sliding into place. He looked at you—not through you, not past you, but at you—and your brain promptly melted into static.

You forgot how to sit properly.

You shifted on the exam table and winced at the ridiculously loud crinkle of the paper beneath you. Great. Smooth. Very dignified.

He glanced down at his tablet. “Name?”

You mumbled it. Or at least, you think you did. Your mouth moved, and he didn’t ask again, so that was something.

His gaze flicked up again, this time assessing. “Hm.”

Just hm.

You wanted to die. Or be swallowed whole by the earth. Or maybe just crawl under the table and never come out again.

He walked closer, writing a few things down, entirely unfazed. His presence filled the room with a kind of quiet intensity, like a thunderstorm just waiting to happen. He asked clinical questions in a deep, calm voice that was way too smooth for your current state of mind.

When he stepped beside you and reached for your wrist, you nearly levitated off the table.

His fingers were precise, cool, steady as they pressed against your skin. Meanwhile, you were vibrating at a frequency only small rodents could hear.

“Pulse is elevated,” he said absently, glancing at the numbers. “Unusual.”

You cleared your throat. “I’m—uh. Just—nervous.”

“I assumed,” he replied, flatly. “Though I haven’t done anything yet.”

Oh my god.

Was that deadpan sarcasm? Was that dry humour? From him?

Your face burned. You could feel the flush rising like a tidal wave, heat crawling up your neck and settling in your ears.

He tilted his head slightly, studying you again. Not with empathy. Not with judgment. Just that same unreadable curiosity, like you were a particularly odd research sample.

“Try to relax. You're only making it worse.”

You let out a high-pitched laugh that did not help your case.

He returned to his notes without another word, cool and methodical as he moved through the rest of the exam. Every brush of contact was maddening. He was so calm, so put-together, while you were over here trying not to pass out from sheer mortification.

Finally, he stepped back and moved to the door.

He paused there, one hand on the handle.

“You should drink more water,” he said, still not looking back. “And maybe avoid overly stimulating environments.”

Then, after a beat—so soft you almost missed it:

“Charismatic doctors included.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

You sat there, frozen, heart racing like you'd just run a marathon on zero sleep and five cups of coffee.

You buried your burning face in your hands.

You were so, so doomed.

The second time you met Dr. Alhaitham, you told yourself it was just a check-up. Just routine. Just to confirm you’re healthy. That’s all.

You definitely didn’t fix your hair twice in the waiting room. Or rehearse what you’d say if he asked anything personal. Or almost chicken out at the front desk.

And then… there he is again.

Same white coat. Same unreadable face. Clipboard in hand. He doesn’t smile. He nods. That’s it. Like you’re a piece of data.

“Still having the same symptoms?” he asks, setting his pen against paper, eyes flicking up for half a second.

“No,” you say too quickly. “I mean—yes. I mean—sort of?” You feel the shame rise like steam in your face. Be normal, you beg yourself silently. Be a normal human.

His brow furrows. “That’s… not very clear.” He’s not being rude. He’s just direct. His voice is so flat, so serious, it makes you squirm.

You try to say something coherent while he approaches with the stethoscope. And then it happens again—he touches your wrist to take your pulse.

Immediate panic.

He blinks. “Still elevated.”

“It’s warm in here,” you blurt.

He tilts his head slightly. “It’s… twenty-two degrees Celsius.”

You die. Right there. He probably thinks you’re about to pass out. Or lying. Or both. Meanwhile, he’s moving through the appointment like you’re not experiencing a romantic crisis every time he breathes near you.

“You’re giggling,” he says, suddenly.

You freeze. “I’m—not!”

He looks up. That same unreadable stare. “You are. It’s fine. Some patients get nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” you say way too fast, your voice a squeak now.

He just nods again. “Hmm.”

Hmm.

That’s it. You’re never recovering from this.

Then, as he’s about to leave, he pauses. Flips through his notes.

“You drink enough water now?” he asks without looking at you.

Your stomach flips. He remembered.

You nod.

“Good,” he says. Still serious. Still calm. Still a walking paradox of soft hands and distant eyes. “You seem better. Maybe next time, you won’t giggle.”

And then he leaves.

And you sit there.

Absolutely gone.

The third time you met Dr. Alhaitham, you weren’t supposed to be here. You just needed toothpaste. That’s all. One boring little errand.

You’re in your softest hoodie, your least presentable state, and you’re standing in the pharmacy aisle, zoning out while debating between two brands of lip balm—because clearly, your life is thrilling.

And then, you hear it. That voice. Calm, low, quiet—but unmistakable.

“Excuse me.”

You turn.

It’s him.

Your doctor. In a black button-up and fitted trousers. No white coat. No clipboard. No clinical detachment to protect you.

Just… him. Hair slightly tousled. Glasses pushed up on his nose. Holding a box of vitamins like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

You nearly drop your chapstick.

“Oh,” you say. Too loudly. Too high-pitched. “Hi.”

His eyes land on you, calm as ever, and he nods like it’s perfectly normal that the man you’ve been lowkey fantasizing about is now standing three feet away by the travel-size shampoo.

“I remember you,” he says, flatly. Not unkind. Just observant.

You nearly ascend. “Uh—yeah. I’m… still hydrated.”

A pause. The corner of his mouth twitches. Twitches.

“That’s good,” he says, and somehow it sounds like a compliment.

You just stare. Like an idiot. Because he’s wearing a real person outfit. And his sleeves are rolled up. And his forearms exist. And he’s not doing anything wrong, but you’re actively malfunctioning.

He glances down at the item in his hand, then holds it up. “Do you know if these actually help? I’ve read mixed studies on the absorption rate.”

He’s asking you. For an opinion. On vitamins. And you’re trying to remember how to form a sentence.

“I—I mean, I just… get the gummies,” you say.

He actually blinks. “Gummies?”

You nod. “They’re easier to… chew?”

Another pause. And then, a quiet, rare sound: a soft huff of amusement. You don’t even think it’s a laugh. But it’s close enough to make your chest burst like a firework.

“You’re different outside the clinic,” he says simply.

You panic. “Is that bad?”

“No,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “Just… surprising.”

Your heartbeat is in your ears.

You manage a half-smile. “You’re different too.”

He tilts his head. “How so?”

“You… have forearms.”

His eyebrows go up. You want to eat the floor.

“I mean—not that I think about your forearms—I just—”

He’s watching you. Quiet. Sharp. Then he says, very calmly:

“You’re blushing again.”

You wish for lightning to strike you on the spot. He adjusts the box in his hand like this is all very standard and unremarkable.

And then, as casually as anything:

“I’ll remember the gummies next time.”

And he walks away.

Leaving you standing there like a disaster in a hoodie, holding two kinds of lip balm and a pounding heart.

The fouth time you met Dr. Alhaitham, the waiting room is cold again, or maybe you’re just more sensitive today. You clutch your jacket tighter, feeling that weird mix of dizzy and tired that’s been creeping up for days. You told yourself it was nothing—just stress, maybe. But now you’re here again.

The nurse calls your name, and your heart skips. Because you already know who’s going to be behind that door.

You step into the exam room and sit down, and sure enough—there he is. Doctor Serious. Doctor Calm. Doctor devastating.

Except this time, his eyes linger longer when he sees you.

“You don’t look well,” he says immediately.

You blink. “Gee, thanks.” why do you think I am here ? well it is also to stare at your gorgeous face but I am not going to disclose that to you.

His brow lifts. You didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic. But your voice is quieter than usual, and your usual panic feels dulled by how out-of-it you feel. He steps closer, watching you carefully.

“Dizzy spells?” he asks, sitting down across from you. “Headaches?”

You nod. “Yeah. And I feel kinda tired all the time. Like… weirdly tired.”

He watches you. Really watches you. “Have you been eating regularly?”

You hesitate. “Um. I mean. Mostly. Maybe not perfectly.”

“Have you fainted?”

“No,” you say. “I just… feel like a dying Victorian woman sometimes.”

That earns a real reaction: a soft exhale, not quite a laugh—but the closest you’ve ever gotten. He looks at you again, like he’s trying to read through your jokes.

“Victorian woman,” he echoes.

You shrug weakly. “I’d look really cute collapsing into someone’s arms.”

His lips twitch. “Let’s avoid collapsing for now.”

He runs a few tests, checking your pulse again—so gently—and this time when your heart spikes, he doesn’t even comment on it. He just looks at you, a bit more quietly than usual.

“Your iron might be low,” he says. “Have you been on your period recently?”

You blink. “Why would you—how’d you—?”

“You’ve been here before,” he says simply. “You were flushed and talkative. Now you’re pale and slow to respond.”

You stare. “So you… remember me that well?”

He doesn’t answer. Just writes something into his file.

And then, suddenly, he says:

“You were at the pharmacy the other day.”

Your stomach flips. “Yeah.”

“I bought the gummies,” he says.

You blink. “Did they change your life?”

“Not yet,” he murmurs, writing something down. Then: “I don’t usually see patients outside the clinic.”

You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, but his voice is… softer.

“I just mean,” he says slowly, “you’re different. Less anxious today. Or maybe just tired.”

He looks up, and for the first time, there’s something like concern in his eyes.

“I want you to get a blood test,” he says. “I’ll write a referral.”

You nod, barely processing, because all you can focus on is the way he’s not looking at you like you’re a puzzle anymore. He’s looking at you like he actually… cares - well he is a doctor it is his job to treat you, his patient and to care for you as his patient.

And when you stand up to leave, a little wobbly on your feet, he places a hand gently—so gently—at your elbow.

“Careful,” he says. “You’re still a little pale.”

You look up at him.

“Will you be there when I collapse dramatically?” you ask, trying to joke through the fog in your head.

He doesn’t smile. But his voice is quieter than ever when he replies:

“Always.”

And then he lets go.

part 2

usagii's note ‧₊˚

welp, ill write another part tmr when i come back from college, ugh i love haitham, i wish he was real ssksjkjskjs

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asscaverns · 9 months ago

Text

Long Time Coming - Daryl Dixon x FEM!reader

Synopsis: Reader and Daryl have been together for a long time, but have never been able to have sex. 3.8k words

minors dni/18+

Warnings: smut, fluff. So much praise! Oral f!receiving. Protected sex (kinda? they use a condom but it's expired bc duh). Daryl cums fast. I've never written smut before, I've never published anything either so go easy on me. Probably OOC Daryl. Not great writing, sorry.

“It’s quiet,” Daryl starts from his position on the couch, one of his legs propped up on the coffee table.

“Yeah, it’s a little unsettling. Even back in the prison there was always growling, or Beth singing, or Carol snoring all night,” you joke lightly mimicking her snores. You plopped down on the couch next to him and leaned into him, making him put an arm around your shoulders. “It feels safe though, yeah? Safest I've felt since the outbreak at least,” you wonder out loud, trying to gauge his feelings of your new home.

“Yeah, I guess,” he pauses. “Just feels like I'm waiting for the shoe, y'know.”

“The other shoe?” You ask, laying your hand on his knee, glancing up at him.

“Mhm, waitin’ for the shoe to drop.”

You hum in understanding. “I think. . .” you trailed off thinking of your next words carefully, “I think, there’s no use in just sittin around and waiting. Maybe we should enjoy what we have, while we have it.”

He sat up and turns to look at you like you were crazy. “And what? What about when these picket fence bastards decide we’re not good enough, we don’t contribute enough, or whatever the hell other reason they decide is fit enough to throw us to the wolves? We just let them blindside us?” he seemed incredulous.

“No, honey, of course not. I’m just saying,” you take a deep breath trying to make sure you are clear. “This is maybe our last chance, our only chance, to live a life without running from the dead every damn day. We got used to that, it was, or maybe it still is, our new normal, but this can be too.”

“I understand, sweetheart, I'm just. . .” he trails off.

“Nervous? On edge?” you finish for him after a moment.

“You could say that,” he answers, picking up a cup of water off the coffee table, taking a sip, and sitting it back down, then leaning back onto the couch and throwing an arm over your shoulder again.

“I know. You run for your life, hunker down in empty houses, broke down cars, and caves for lord knows how long. Next thing you know, someone offers you not only a home, but a house? To ourselves? And food, water, walls and defenses, plus people patrolling 24/7? It’s a big change, but this is the safest we’ve been for a while. I just think we should enjoy it while we can. We can stay on edge, sleep with a gun under our pillow or whatever, but we should enjoy what we have while we have it. We can live here for a while, when shit hits the fan we can run, like we always have.”

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right, y/n,” he admits, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Kinda boring though, innit? This whole ‘american dream’ life.”

You glanced at him and saw a small smile. “Boring?” you giggle, “I can think of something to entertain us.” You slide your hand from your lap over to his, putting your hand back on his knee and sliding it half way up his thigh.

“Yeah? What’s that sweetheart?” He questions innocently, but you can see the way his cheeks are redder than earlier, and you can see the way he looks at your lips.

You jumped up and offered him your hand with a wink, “Come with me and I'll show you.”

“Don’ need to ask me twice,” he jumped to his feet, grabbing your hand and letting you lead him up the stairs and into the bathroom. You open the door with your spare hand and spin around pulling at his shirt and winking at him.

“Oh I get it, you just want to see me naked, don’ ya?” Daryl teased, pulling his t-shirt off.

“You know I do, baby,” you flirted, grabbing his naked waist and pulling him closer for a moment, before pushing him away and leaning over to start the water, Daryl taking the opportunity to smack your ass. You giggle and turn around with your finger pointed, ready to scold him jokingly, but he grabs your hips before you can. He yanks you into his chest and kisses you hard, trying to slip his tongue into your mouth.

“At least let me get in the shower first, you horny bastard!” You laugh at him and pull away, yanking your shirt over your head and pulling your pants down and off. You feel the water to test its temperature and upon deciding it warm enough, you turn around to see him still in his pants. You reach towards his belt and pull on it, “You joining? Or are you gonna stand there and watch?”

“I’m happy to watch but I’d much rather join,” he responds, watching you step into the warm water. He tugs his belt undone and his pants down while you turn and let the water run over you.

Truth is, you were a little nervous, you knew what you were initiating. Sure you’d spent most of the apocalypse together, started ‘dating’ not long after arriving at the prison. Though you’d never officially talked labels, it’s been long assumed, by you and the rest of the group, that you were together. So, you’ve been ‘together’ a long time, but despite that you’d never really gone farther than oral or handjobs. If you’d had the time, then you hadn’t had the solitude. If you’d had the solitude, then you hadn’t had the safety. If you’d had the safety, then you hadn’t had the time. It had worked out fine, in the midst of the end of the world, sexual frustration wasn’t your biggest concern, you’d go as far as to say it wasn’t even in the top 15. This was your third night alone in Alexandria, your group had all slept in the same house for a while before gradually settling into your own.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done this, huh?” you question, rubbing soap all over your body. You feel his arms wrap around you and pull your back to his chest, you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“You’re sexier every time,” he whispers, nipping at your ear. His hands grab the fat of your hips and grip it to pull you even closer.

“Really? You don’t think I looked better when we were covered in walker guts and months of filth?” You tease him, pushing away and signaling for him to turn his back to you, and begin to clean his back with a soapy towel.

“You get prettier every day, Y/N, with or without running water,” he hums out, enjoying the soft scratch of the washcloth on his body. It had taken him a long time to get comfortable being this vulnerable, but years of relying on each other has built a trust unlike any other in his life. He trusts you fully, to see him wholly and unfiltered, who he truly was inside and out.

Once you both had been scrubbed you wrap your arms around his neck and push him against the wall. You brush your lips over his, testing the waters first. He grabs your face and spins you around, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You moan into his mouth and pull him closer. His arms wind around your waist when his tongue slips into your mouth, your grasp the hair at the base of his neck tightly in your fingers when you feel his leg slot between yours.

You grind down on his leg and gasp, throwing your head back against the wall. He takes the opportunity to kiss your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking little marks on your collar bones. You feel his hand slide from your waist up your torso to grab at your breast and your hands grab at the strong muscles of his back. He kneads your soft breast before rubbing your nipple with his thumb, he places sloppy kisses on the junction of your neck and down your shoulder. You whimper and grind harder on his leg when he pinches your nipple between his fingers, Daryl kisses back up your neck and puts his hands on either side of your face, pulling it to his to kiss it harshly.

“Please, Daryl, I want you,” you whimper against his lips, he hums into your mouth and slips his tongue into your mouth. “Daryl, please,” you whine as he willfully ignores your begging.

You keep kissing, clawing at his back with your short nails, just trying to pull him impossibly closer to you, his arms wrap tight around your waist, holding you down on his leg to help you grind harder against his knee. One of his arms abandons your waist to grab a fistful of your wet hair and he lets it tangle around his fingers, while he kisses you even deeper.

“You ready to get outta here, pretty girl?” He smirks at you. Before waiting for your answer he shuts the water off, grumbling about how you’re just gonna have to take another one later, and slides open the curtain. Daryl steps out and hands you a towel.

You rush past him into the bedroom, drying off and discarding your towel, then jumping on your shared bed. He walks in a few moments later, dropping the towel he had wrapped around his waist. You whistle at him teasingly, “How on earth did I get so lucky?”

He chuckles at you and sits on the bed beside your feet, running his hands up your calf, “I think I should be the one asking that, Y/N.” He crawls up to your body, pressing light kisses from your knees to your neck. If it weren’t for the lust in his eyes and the way he looks at you like you were prettiest damn woman he’s ever seen you might feel insecurity creeping in.

Daryl pecks your mouth, leaving you chasing his mouth until kisses back down your stomach, notching himself between your thighs. He peppers kisses all over the inside of your thighs, avoiding the one place you’re needing him the most. He finally caves, running his thumb up your slit, brushing away the soft hair that covers your cunt.

“You’re the sexiest damn woman I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, not giving you a chance to respond before he dives in, placing one long lick from your hole to your clit. The surprise movement leaves you gasping and squeezing his head between his thighs, which he softly pushes away. He does another long lick before focusing on your clit, alternating between gentle licks and circling it with his tongue. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, smiling when he hears you whimpering above him. He goes back to gentle licks and sucks, Daryl moves farther south until licking at our hole, he looks up at you for approval and instead sees a sight so beautiful he wonders what he did to deserve this. You, your back arched the perfect amount for him to see the soft expanse of your stomach leading to your breasts that were pushed into the air, one hand grasping clumsily at one of them, pulling at your nipple. With the image of you and your salty taste on his tongue he swore he could bust right then and there.

Daryl pushes his tongue into your hole, the mix of your wetness and his saliva creating a mess of your groin. He fucks his tongue into you, soft and steady.

It’s so much, his wet tongue sliding in and out of you, his hands gripping your thighs, his nose nudging your clit every now and then. It was too much and not enough. You gasp out, “Oh, my god, Daryl,” between your moans and heavy breathing. “D, you feel so good, I need more, please.”

He moves one hand from your thigh up to your mouth, pulling away to whisper, “suck on my fingers, baby.” You oblige, leaning forward eagerly to pull his thick fingers into your mouth and moan around them when he uses his other hand to squeeze your thigh. He fucks his fingers in and out of your mouth, coming up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue mingles with yours around his fingers. He pulls his fingers out and drops them to your cunt, using them to circle your clit, then sliding one inside of you, swallowing your gasps and moans in your shared kiss. He works his second finger into your pussy and abandons your lips to kiss down your chest, stopping to suck a nipple into his mouth briefly, but then continuing all the way back to your clit. Your hands grasp at his hair and push his face into your cunt, his tongue going back to playing with your clit while his eyes flicker up to see yours squeezed shut and mouth hanging open in ecstasy. Your hands wind in his hair so you have something to hold on to, his tongue and fingers making your head swim. He could ask you anything right now and you’d do it in a heartbeat as long as he didn’t stop. His fingers stretched you open just right and the drag of his knuckles in your pussy had you gasping for air.

His fingers were fucking into you hard enough in just the right spot that you were breathless, gasping each time they hit that spot. He groaned against your cunt and it left you whining and grinding against him, his spare arm wrapped around your hips drawing you even closer and holding you still against his mouth. He pulled away from you, protests falling from your lips at his withdrawal, “You’re doin’ so good for me, Y/N, sound so fuckin’ pretty. Perfect little cunt too, you know how much I love eating your pussy, don’ ya, baby?’ He draws, pressing more kisses and sucking little marks against the sensitive parts of your thighs, while his fingers slowly thrust in and out of you. You hum in response, hands trying to pull his head back to where you want- no need him most. “I want you to tell me, Y/N, tell me what you want,’ He insists, his dark, brown eyes boring into yours.

“You- you know what I want, honey,” you reply, face heating up, suddenly feeling almost bashful at your desperation for your partner. He pulls his fingers out of you at your less-than-satisfactory response.

“Oh, I do, baby, trust me,” he insists. “But I need to hear you say it. I want to hear you. Don’t go getting shy on me now. There’s no reason to, I know you love when I give you head, you know how much I adore buryin’ my head between your sexy thighs, feeling them squeeze me while i devour you,” he pauses to slide his fingers back into you, smiling at your quiet moan. “Hell, you should see the mess my cock is makin’ down here, leaking all over the blanket I just washed. I’m humping the bed like a damn virgin while I’m tongue deep in your pussy, sweetheart. I can feel how close you are, clenchin’ like a vice on my fingers. Now I’d love to have you make a mess on my face, but I want you to tell me what you want first. No need in getting all bashful, sweetheart, we’ve been here a dozen times before. Want to see your pretty face when you tell me, too.”

You lean up on your elbows, head foggy with need. “Daryl, I need you to make me cum, make me- make me cum all over your face,” you manage to stutter out. “Then, I need you to fuck-” your words are interrupted by a broken gasp as he dives back in, licking and sucking at your clit for all his worth. Your arms give out from behind making you drop onto your back, arching it and trying to wriggle your hips against his hold and let out breathless praises for the man eating you out like his life depends on it.

“Fuck! Daryl, you make me feel so good,” you gasp out when he goes back to licking circles on your clit. His fingers are curling into you just right, his tongue is circling your clit perfectly, your mind is buzzing and all you can think about is him. You feel your orgasm creeping up, warmth building and muscles tightening. “I- I’m so close, I-, oh my god, just like that, baby. Fuck, Daryl, please!”

You let out more whimpers and moans, a few nearly incoherent begs, although what you were begging for was unclear, all you knew is that you were so, so close to cumming on the fingers of the man you loved more than anything. Your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, which makes him groan into you and grind harder against the blanket under him, the vibrations of his groan make you buck your hips, so he tightens his hold on you. He was lapping at your cunt like it was water and he was dying of thirst. His fingers are pressing harder into you with every little thrust and you’re sobbing out as your orgasm finally washes over you. You can feel the pleasure wash over your body, making chills erupt all over you, the heat that’s been building in your core finally explodes and you’re shaking all over, back almost arching off the bed as he keeps lapping at you. You cunt is milking his fingers, legs shaking around his head as you moan out little gasps of his name. His fingers fuck you through the shock waves of your orgasm, but he doesn’t stop his movements. Your moans turn into little high pitched gasps when he pulls his fingers out of you once you stop pulsing around them, only to slide his tongue into your opening and fuck into you. It’s all too much, you can feel the rough drag of stubble on your soft inner thighs and his harsh grip on your ass as you come back down to reality. He finally lets up when you start to pull away from him and your grip on his hair loosens. He pulls away from you, his face glistening in the soft moon light peering in from the window. You grab at the back of his head and yank him into a rough kiss, tongues clash and the taste of your fluids on his lips and tongue make you moan into his mouth again.

“You’re too good for me, Daryl, honestly. You’re so good with your mouth, I’d let you eat me out for hours,” you breathlessly praise him once he pulls away to catch his breath, letting his forehead rest on yours.

“That can be arranged, darling,” he muses, starting to lower himself back to your pussy.

“No! No, not right now. I need you. I need more of you. I want your cock, please, Daryl,” you stutter, desperation fogging your brain. “Lay down, let me blow you.”

“No, sunshine, I’m not gonna last that long,” he insists, hissing when your hand wraps around his aching dick, using his own precum to stroke loosely. You reach into your bedside drawer for the condoms you had placed there a few days ago, they were past the expiration date, but it’s not like you can find any new ones any more, you had both decided you might as well try to use the protection.

“You sure?” You ask, looking at him with hooded eyes, licking your lips and ripping open the condom.

“Yes, Y/N,” he affirms. You slide the condom down his length and then use that hand to guide his cock to your entrance.

You can’t help but notice his shaky breath and the way his hands are shaking beside your head, “Daryl, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop now, we can go to bed, or I can jerk you off, if you’d rather wait.”

“I want to fuck ya, it’s just. . .” he trails off.

“Been a long time?” You finish for him. He nods to confirm your suspicion.

Before you can respond he begins to push into you, your pussy aching as he stretches you out, feeling every vein of his cock as it fills you up to the hilt. Above you, he’s grunting, arms damn near giving out as he rests most of his weight on you. He’s grunting into your ear, muttering a quiet “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he adjusts to the tightness of your pussy around him, as you grind and squeeze against him, your body begging for me.

“Hey, sunshine, look at me,” he’s leaning back to look you in the eye, once he got his bearings He brushes the hair out of your eyes, presses a kiss to your nose. “You feel good, better than I coulda imagined.”

“Please, Daryl.”

In lieu of a response, he crashes his lips on yours. Pulling out almost completely and pushing back in with a broken moan, your hand flies to his hair as he begins to rut into you. Short, fast thrusts that leave you gasping with your arms tight around his shoulders. He slows his pace when your nails start to scratch down his back. “I-I’m not gonna last long, y/n,” he moans, pulling all the way back and then thrusting back into you hard.

“That’s perfect, baby, please, that’s all I want. Jus’ want to make you feel good, yeah?” You pant out. Your legs wrapped tightly around him, his thrusts hitting so deep inside of you, you were seeing stars, his hips pushing flush against your own, you could feel his balls slap against your ass. He drops his head to kiss and suck on your neck, you tighten around him and reach down to rub our clit.

Daryl’s moans and thrusts get more erratic, a sign you know means he’s close. “Fuck, baby, I-” he gasps out.

“I know, I know, me too.”

“I’m sorry, you just feel so damn good-”

“Shut up and let me feel you cum inside of me,” you demand, your voice breathless and broken, he’s stretching you out so nicely and you’re rubbing fast, eager circles on our clit. “Oh- I- I’m cumming. Oh, my god, fuck! I love you so much, Daryl.”

The rhythmic squeezing of your tight pussy and your blissed out face sent him straight over the edge, he was grunting into you as you both rode out your highs.

Minutes later he was catching his breath, his legs shaking. “Was that worth the wait?” You joked. He laughed at you and slipped out, shaking his head at your sound of disappointment. Daryl pulled the condom off and threw it in the bin across the room.

In the morning he awoke before you, the sun shining across your pretty hair, he could see your relaxed face, your tits sticking out of the blanket. He wondered what he ever did to deserve this, to deserve you. He’d fight through a dozen apocalypses if it meant being with you.

#I tried yall #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #twd x reader #Daryl Dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon smut #x reader #the walking dead smut #the walking dead #smut #kt writes

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 3 months ago

Text

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 5 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, LOTS of dialogue, a little bit on innuendo

❥ A/N: hello!! This chapter got LONG sksksk but it was fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it!!

You go to work as usual on Monday. The day is normal, save for the several texts you receive from Guy throughout the day. It's on your break when you're finally able to see all of them.

Guy: Hi

Guy: It's me

Guy: 1 Attachment

Guy: This was my breakfast

Guy: Do you like photos of food? Would you like me to send more of them?

Guy: 1 Attachment

Guy: This was my lunch

Guy: I hope you are just busy with work and are not ignoring me. That would hurt.

Guy: Please let me know when you get this

"Jesus Christ," your coworker says, scrolling through the messages again. "He's clingy. The food does look good though."

"What should I say?" you ask.

"Well, I would say 'hi', and then maybe 'I am at work, I can't talk right now', and then maybe 'I will text you later'."

You sigh, taking your phone back and writing him what your coworker suggested.

Guy: I understand. Can we talk tonight? I would enjoy speaking with you on the phone

Y/N: Sure, we can talk tonight. Maybe we can chat while I make dinner

Guy: I would like that

You put your phone away, taking it out again once you get home.

Y/N: Hey, I'm home if you want to call

Almost immediately after you send the text, your phone rings, 'Buff Guy' showing up on your screen. You bite your lip, flicking the 'answer' button.

"Hello?"

"Hey." His voice is so deep over the phone, making you shiver. "How was your day?"

"It was fine. Nothing exciting happened. What about you?" He sighs.

"It was boring. I hated it." You hum.

"The mystical life of a CEO, huh?" He chuckles and your stomach flips delightfully.

"Yeah, exactly." The two of you go quiet before he clears his throat. "I... I missed you today." You arch your brow.

"Oh really?" He hums in agreement.

"So much."

"Hmm."

"Did you miss me?" he asks. You pause, thinking.

"Actually, yeah. I did. I missed seeing you when you come in for coffee. I missed making your drink like usual. I spent all day making dumb cream-chinos and lattes."

His breathing turns heavy. You can even hear him swallow.

"Guy? You okay?"

"Yeah, uh... I'm really sorry but I need to go."

"Need to go? Already? We've only been talking for five minutes."

"I know, I'm sorry but... something's come up."

You pout, but you're thankful that he wasn't there to see your sad expression.

"Okay, I understand."

"Wait."

"Mm-hm?"

"Can we please talk tomorrow? I'm sorry for cutting things short tonight, but I promise tomorrow will be different."

"Hmm... okay. But don't make this a habit."

"I promise I won't. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Goodnight."

"Night."

You pull the phone away from your ear, hitting the 'hang up' option. You find yourself alone, disappointed that your call couldn't go on longer than you wanted.

The next day, Guy calls again around the same time.

"Hi."

"Hey, Guy."

"I'd like to apologize again for last night." You hear shuffling on the other end of the line. "I didn't want to end the call so suddenly, but I had things to attend to."

"It's okay."

"What are you up to?"

"Well, I was going to make dinner."

"What will you make?"

"Baked spaghetti," you say with a smile.

"That sounds really good."

"Mm, well, maybe if you play your cards right, I can make it for you some day."

"I would be honored." You laugh, pulling out a pot.

"Hold on, I gotta get some water. I'm gonna put you down for a bit."

"Okay."

You place the phone on the counter, beside the sink. You fill the pot with water, taking it to the stove and turning the stove on. You picked your phone back up again.

"Hey, I'm back."

"I missed you." You snicker.

"It was, like, two minutes max."

"I still missed you." You hum, waiting for the pot to boil.

"So, what exactly do you do as a CEO?" He grunts.

"Nothing important. I mostly hire people and encourage them to actually do their job right."

"Ah, okay. So why did you have a business trip?"

"I am hiring an executive to represent our company in this city, so I'm interviewing people this week."

"Ooooh."

"It's all very boring. Tell me about your day." You scoff, grabbing the spaghetti from the pantry.

"It wasn't anything special. Just made drinks, like usual."

"Was anyone mean to you?"

"No, everyone was nice. The crockety old man who comes in for an extra-dry cappuccino made with almond milk was actually pretty decent today. Apparently today is his anniversary."

"Oh, that's nice. How long has he been married?"

"I didn't care enough to ask."

He laughs, deep. It makes you smile as you add the pasta to the water.

"What did you eat today?" he asks.

"Hmm, I had two coffees at work and..." You think for a moment. "Oh! Yeah, I ate half a sandwich from the shop next door. I'm saving the other half for lunch tomorrow."

"That doesn't sound like much."

"It wasn't, but I wasn't that hungry."

"Please take care of yourself," he continues, "at least while I'm not there."

"What are you, my dad?" There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"Do you want me to be?"

"Oh my god, WHAT??" Your eyes are wide, staring into your living room. "Are you being serious right now? Please tell me you're not being serious."

Laughter erupts on the other end of the line and you groan.

"You're fucking with me, huh?"

"Exactly."

"Fuck you."

"Some day you will."

"EXCUSE ME?! HELLO?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE SPEAKING TO?!" He laughs again, louder this time and you growl. "If you keep this up, I'm just gonna hang up."

"Haha, no, no, I'm sorry. I'll stop." You sigh, pressing your cool hand against your warm cheek.

"What did you eat today?" He hums in thought.

"I had egg whites for breakfast with some avocado. I had a turkey burger for lunch. And then for dinner I had salmon and a salad."

"Hm. Can I be honest with you?"

"Always."

"That sounds boring as hell." He laughs at that.

"How so?"

"Egg whites? Turkey? Salmon? Where's the fun in that? Eat some carbs."

"The turkey burger came with a bun."

"And I bet it was whole wheat, huh?"

His silence answers your question and makes you laugh hard, throwing your head back.

"Oh my god, I'm right aren't I? Oh my god, that's so funny."

"You're very smart, you know that?" You hum, pulling the spaghetti sauce and shredded cheese from the fridge.

"I'm just good at predicting things."

"And yet you couldn't comprehend that I like you?" You pout.

"That's different."

"Not really." You hear some fumbling and a distant sigh. "I'm sorry, my coworker is calling me. Can I call you back?"

"Yeah, sure. I gotta put my spaghetti in the oven anyways."

"Alright. I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye."

You hang up, sliding the phone across the counter. You strain your cooked pasta, adding sauce before pouring it into a glass dish and covering it with a layer of mozzarella cheese. You put it in the oven for thirty minutes.

Guy: I'm sorry. My coworker got so drunk that now they're sick. I have to attend to them. Can I call you tomorrow?

Y/N: Yeah, that's fine :(

Guy: I'm so sorry about this. Please believe me when I say I would much rather be talking with you than dealing with a puking coworker

Y/N: I understand. Goodnight

Guy: Goodnight

You eat your baked spaghetti in silence.

Wednesday comes and goes, but before you can go to bed, Guy calls you.

"Hey," he begins, "I'm sorry about last night. I hope you can forgive me."

"I guess I can. It was just lonely." You hear him sigh deeply.

"I am so, so sorry for doing that to you, Y/N. I'm so sorry I put you through that. I hate disappointing you."

"You've only done it a couple times so far," you admit.

"I know, and each time is torture."

Silence fills the line before you hear him shuffling on the other end.

"Are you done with me?" he asks. You sigh heavily.

"No. I just need to lower my expectations, I guess."

"Please don't," he pleads. "I promise this isn't normal for me. I don't want you to ever feel like you're settling with me. I want to give you everything you want and need, I want to make you the happiest woman in the world, I—"

"You know," you interject him, sitting up in bed, "you're much more talkative over the phone." You hear him huff.

"It's easier to tell you how I feel when I don't have to face you."

"That's really weird."

"I know," he sighs. "I just... you know, my throat closes up when I'm around you. I feel like I'm going crazy when you're in front of me, especially when I smell you or see you smile. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

You cross your legs into a sitting position.

"Keep going," you say, and he takes a deep breath.

"When I first saw you, I thought I had met an angel. My feelings cemented themselves almost immediately. And then you smiled at me and took my order and your voice was so sweet."

"Are you attracted to me?"

"Immensely."

"In what way?"

"Do you want details or should I be generic and just say you're beautiful?"

"Details."

You hear a deep breath, then a sigh.

"You're radiant," he begins. "You're starlight. I look at you and I see a goddess. Your hair, your eyes, don't get me started on your body."

"Talk about my body."

You hear him swallow.

"Have you seen yourself? You're gorgeous. I love your body, your curves. I can't stop staring at you no matter how hard I try. I..."

"You what?"

"...I think about you, a lot, late at night. I want you so badly sometimes it makes me feel insane."

"You want me... sexually?"

"Isn't is obvious?"

"You're hard to read." He chuckles.

"You know, I get that a lot, actually."

"Gee, I wonder why." He laughs louder.

"I like how sarcastic you are. It's cute."

"Be honest with me." He goes silent as you speak. "Are you interested in me just because you want to fuck me?"

"No," he says sternly. "I could never have you in just that way. I need all of you, every last bit. I want to make you mine."

"Ah, so you're possessive."

"Only of you."

You glance at your clock, realizing the time.

"Oh, shoot. I'm sorry, I gotta go, it's getting late. I gotta open tomorrow."

"I understand. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow?"

"Sure, if you want."

"You say that a lot, you know that?" You pause.

"Does it bother you?"

"No, but I don't want you to do things just because I want to. I want you to do the things that you want to do."

"Trust me, I do. I'm just trying to be considerate."

"I appreciate that." You hear shuffling on the line. "I'll let you go. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Guy."

You hung up, plopping back down into bed, snuggling into your sheets after plugging in your phone. You think about Guy, about the things he said, as you drift off to sleep.

Thursday seems to go by slower than the rest of the week, probably because you were opening. Guy doesn't text you very much either, which you find disappointing.

You initiate the call tonight.

"Hello."

"Hey."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to talk to you."

He gives a breathless laugh.

"Really? You did? You're not fucking with me?"

"No, I'm not fucking with you."

"Wow..."

"What's 'wow'?"

"I'm just... I thought I was annoying you. I didn't expect you to want to talk to me. I felt like you were doing it just to be nice, not because you really wanted to."

"Oh..." You think for a moment. "I'm sorry I gave you that impression, Guy."

"It's okay. I was the one who assumed you weren't actually into me." He clears his throat. "You... are into me, right?"

"Surprisingly, yes."

"'Surprisingly'? What does that mean?"

"Well, I thought you'd be shallow and selfish, because I assumed all gym guys were like that, but you're pretty down to Earth. You're sincere."

"Do you—"

"Yes, Guy. I like it." He chuckles.

"You know me so well already."

"I know some of you."

"I want you to know all of me one day. I want you to know me in your bones."

You gulp, clearing your throat.

"Well, aren't you the romantic."

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"What do you like about me?"

You don't expect the question, but you think about it regardless.

"Well... I've told you before, but you're very handsome. I like your muscles. You're strong, so you can protect me from big scary monsters." He laughs, and it makes you smile. "I like your laugh, and the way you smile. I like that you're straight-forward, because I need that sometimes. I'm not always the brightest."

"Don't say that. You're very smart."

"I didn't realize you liked me for the longest time."

"That doesn't mean you're not smart. I don't like when you talk like that."

You huff, rolling your eyes.

"Say you're sorry."

"What?"

"Say you're sorry to yourself."

You glance around the room.

"I'm... sorry?"

"That wasn't very convincing."

"What is this? 2nd grade? Why are you—"

"Y/N."

You sigh, tossing your head back and staring at the ceiling for a moment before recovering.

"I'm sorry for not being nice to myself."

"Good. Thank you."

"Are you done parenting me now?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. I don't need to be scolded anymore tonight."

"I wasn't scolding you."

"Sure, Dad."

"That's 'Daddy' to you."

"OH MY GOD, NO, STOP." He's laughing, loudly. You imagine him throwing his head back, a hand coming to his chest to steady himself.

"Messing with you is so fun." You grumble.

"Meanie."

"Aw, don't be like that. It's all in good fun."

"I know, I know."

The two of you go quiet again. You yawn audibly.

"Tired?"

"Yeah. I was up so early today."

"I'll let you get some sleep. I hope you have a good day tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Goodnight."

"So what exactly are we?" you ask as you answer the phone on Friday night.

"What happened to 'hello'?"

"Please just answer me."

"I thought we were dating."

"Like, exclusively?" He pauses.

"Have you been seeing other men?"

"No, hell no. Have you been seeing other women?"

"Of course not."

"Then are we exclusive?"

Silence, again.

"I'd like to be," he whispers. You twist your mouth before pouting to yourself.

"I'd like it too." You hear him exhale.

"Then we're on the same page."

"I guess so."

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"I wanted to ask you properly in person, but I'll ask now: will you be my girlfriend? Exclusively?"

You feel butterflies in your stomach. God, you felt like a teenager again.

"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend." You hear him grunt, and you twist your face in thought. "What was that?"

"Oh, uh... I did a fist-bump."

You laugh, loud and joyful, and he laughs too.

"Alright, boyfriend. Tell me about your day."

"Ugh, it was boring. I found the proper candidate and offered them the job, but they haven't replied yet. They're going to say yes, but I hate having to wait to make everything official."

"I would hate to have your job."

"Thanks. That makes me feel so much better."

"I'm sorry!" you giggle. "I would just hate to be at the top of a company and have to make all these big decisions and being bored."

"Congratulations. You just summed up my whole job." You laugh again, and you imagine him smiling. "Tell me about your day."

"Ah, it was fine. I have tomorrow off which is nice. I'll sleep in and hang out at home and just relax." He hums.

"Can I take you out tomorrow?"

"Hmm, where you wanna take me?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes, honestly."

"I'd like to go with you to the gym." You furrow your brow.

"The gym? Why the gym? Are you trying to tell me to lose weight?"

"God, no. I like you the way you are. But I like the gym and I would like to spend time with you doing something I enjoy."

"Did you not enjoy dinner or the movie?"

"I did, I did. Please don't get the wrong idea. I just... the gym is a big part of my life and I want to enjoy it with someone I care about. It would be a lot more fun than going alone."

"Hm. I guess I can see where you're coming from. But I'm not going to the gym to 'lose weight'. I'm gonna go there to take care of my health. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. What time were you thinking?"

"Well, I usually go in the morning before work, but if you want to sleep in we can go a little later, since I also don't work tomorrow."

"Soooo what time?"

"What time do you want to go?" You hum.

"Maybe after ten. I'd like to sleep in until at least nine thirty."

"How about you wake up at ten and I pick you up at ten thirty?"

"Oh my god, that would be perfect."

"Good. Can I take you to lunch afterward?"

"I would like that."

"Where would you like to go?"

"Hmmm, I wanna go somewhere to get a sandwich. Do you know any good places?"

"I know just the place."

"Awesome. Sandwich city, here I come." He chuckles at that.

"Are you going to get ready for bed soon?"

"Oh, I'm already ready for bed. Just need to turn off the light and I'll go to sleep."

"Sounds nice. I need to finish unpacking and then I'll get ready for bed."

"Would you like me to let you go so you can unpack?"

"...Not really. I wish I could just talk to you forever."

"Talking to you this week has actually been really nice. You're fun to talk to."

"Thank you."

The line goes quiet before you yawn.

"Someone's sleepy."

"Can't help it! I'm all snuggled into bed."

"Hm, then I'll let you go. Then you can sleep and I'll pick you up in the morning."

"Okie dokie artichokie." He laughs.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Guy."

You hang up the phone and plug it in, turning out the light and rolling over.

#chubby reader x buff guy

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valentine-cafe · 3 months ago

Text

˖⁺. “ boner in public ! ” :

﹙ various monster boyfriends x gn reader ﹚.𖹭

. . . various monster boyfriends x gn reader !! 🍒 :

you're out and about in public. only for you to look down and catch your partner in a bit of a predicament. . . a boner in public.

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ very lowkey brat taming ˖ reader is suuuchhh a shit | wc : 1.2k

﹙ receipts ﹚: I needed to write this for awhile and just - had so much damn fun with it

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

﹙ Alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “This assembly meeting must be reeeaaalll interesting, huh Alessio?”

You catch his grin from the side as you shift closer to his still countenance. Standing tall with his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark jeans. As if he isn’t sporting a massive tent at his crotch.

“Oh yeah. Fuckin’ love the morning recount of -” he pauses to pay attention he hasn’t bothered. “- scheduled staff meetings. Really gets a person going.”

You have to stiffle a laugh. Even with a raging boner he’s able to toss jokes around like its nothing. Typical Alessio.

You shift closer and muse as your arm bumps into his. “You’re surprisingly calm for someone armed and ready. Happen often?”

He casts you only a side glance and this time, his brow arches to join the lazy grin. “D’you have any idea how many fucking boners you give? In a day? ‘m used to this shit by now.” Your face burns at his words and you take a small glance around to ensure no one has noticed, before your gaze returns to the culprit.

His low murmur breaks the silence. “Keep staring and I’ll take it as an offer.” At last your boyfriend turns to you. Eyes shining with the bluntness of his words. Your own widen and you bounce your gaze around quickly before clearing your throat. Considering. Then humming.

“Can’t be serious.”

“Meet me round the bathroom in five?”

The shamelessness of this man. How could you possibly say no?

꒰ mercenary ˖ inhuman ˖ immortal ˖ punkgoth character ꒱

﹙ Talisen 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : The line for this one cup of coffee was criminally long. You weigh out the options, you’ve already waited ten minutes — and you’re almost there. But the damned lady at the front had changed her mind about elven times and over.

You’re about to spin around and tell your boyfriend that maybe you should find another spot — until it catches your peripheral. The familiar bulge that has you whipping your head over immediately to make sure you’re seeing right.

And Talisen, oh poor Talisen. He stands tall as ever. Staring ahead without so much as a peep. Pretending as though he hasn’t caught your obvious stare. As if he is sooo oblivious to dick rising for attention. Like a fucking actor.

You can’t help the shit-eating grin that spreads across your face. It’s subtle, but, you shuffle closer and mumble low enough to his ear. “Is it just me, or are you really excited for that berry tea?”

The click of his tongue sends you giggling. The reaper turns his face in the opposite direction and tightens his jaw. Damn the paleness of his face. It shines his blush like a red light.

“Do not patronize me. It. . . It can very well be a random occurrence.” His deep voice mutters, grave like the hole he’s digging for himself in retribution for his body putting him in this position.

“Maybe. . .” you muse, tilting your head with your grin dropping to a smirk. “Or maybe it was the way you were staring at my thighs earlier.”

He grunts low. Here you are, laughing your ass off at him while he’s twitching and struggling. What a cruel beloved he has found himself with.

But he must remain refined. He takes a deep breath. Schools his blushing face and leans over to your shoulder. Pale fingers find the small of your back. “If you would stop staring. This will ease in about five minutes.” He murmurs to your ear. You all but croon. Your eyes coyly shifting to the side.

“And what if I don’t wanna?”

“Then,” his fingers press up into your back. “Suppose I will have to make it your problem for the rest of the day.”

꒰ grim reaper ˖ naga ˖ poet character ꒱

﹙ Haitao 209. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “Stop staring.”

You’re pulled out of your world of bewilderment and mild amusement when his dry voice fills your ear. You sway a bit to your boyfriend leaned back into the wall beside you. Arms folded as he stares through his spectacles to the briefing of the newest mission.

“Can’t help it Haii. It’s like you’re tryna poke my eye out with that.” You have to restrain the urge to reach over and flick it. However, your joke does spark a gurgled, muffled laughter from Haitao’s motionless figure. Seems Luu’leriel found it quite funny.

The reaper in turn sighs deep and shuts his eyes for but a moment as you prod at him continuously. Poking the bear was your specialty. Here he is, hard as rock. And even now you refuse to give him a moment’s reprieve.

“Oh c’mon. Don’t look so serious,” you lightly knock his elbow with yours. Your grin dimming just a tad so that you can lower your voice. “Maybe I could give you a hand?”

He gives but a roll of his eyes. His expression not breaking once. Much like ice. He only lowers his own voice in turn and speaks lowly.

“This is an extremely important briefing and you wanna miss it to give me a handjob?”

“Looks like you need it big boy. Think I saw it twitch.”

That was it. His arm snakes around your waist and yanks you closer. His cold lips find your ear and he eases into a whisper. “Your count’s on three. Four will cost you. Five, you’re not fucking walking.”

You immediately straighten up and stare forward. With but a clear of your throat. Haitao returns to his initial stance. With his dick now throbbing more than before. You won in the end.

꒰ grim reaper ˖ assassin character ꒱

﹙ Orion. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : Your beloved is the height of nobility. The sheer essence of refinement. It is what you’ve adored about him since day one. His large, dark wings stick out through the sea of white feathers. As you both stand within one of the grand angel halls. Socialising before the announcements for the new age.

You cannot help but admire your love. Oh, refinement does not even begin to cover it. He is beyond graceful.

Even when he is straining a boner through his robes. Although barely visible with the layers of his black hanfu, you knew him well enough.

“My.” you muse at last. Finding a quiet moment beside him. “When you complimented my outfit, I hadn’t thought it would get to you so much.”

You receive only a side eye from the angel before he returns to his glass of wine. A small swish to the scarlet liquid before he brings his lips to the rim with a soft mumble. “You speak a lot for a guilty being. Do you enjoy ruining my image?”

You laugh and link an arm with his. Your chin craning to his shoulder. “Oh Oriiooonn, don’t blame me for your own imaginative mind huh?” With a small hum, you guide your eyes down slyly before piping ever so softly. “Who knew old men like you could still get it up?”

It is only then that you receive a scoff from him. He has to take another swig of his wine after that. “You of all people should know. You find yourself on it every night.”

You smile at his little bite. He seems unbothered for the most part — but your teasing is certainly getting to him. That much you can tell. So you bite on your lip with a smile.

“Are you growing irritable? Might I offer assistance?”

“Why not? You seem as though you are ready to get down on your knees here and now in any case.”

You swat his arm lightly and he only chuckles. You’ll have to find an empty hallways.

꒰ abyssal angel ˖ dragonic character ꒱

﹙ taglist. ﹚: | get tagged for specific posts

﹙ tip jar. ﹚: like our work? consider suporting us 𖹭

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deerlysacred · 2 months ago

Text

❦ burgundy sheets & golden glimmers ⧼ soldier boy x witch fem!reader ⧽ | playing house

⟆ the second chapter of the ‘playing house’ series.

𐂂 𝄢 01 : 46 a.m. 🕰️ { the tension between you two flares up when soldier boy comes into your room in the middle of the night, leading to irresistible urges… }

𖣂 𝄢 fluff at first, smut. the smut includes : pussy slapping, y/n is inexperienced, v-card loss, choking, unprotected sex. you've been warned.

♪ i listened to 'take it off' by keni titus while writing this, i recommend you guys to listen to it while reading too ❤️

‼️ 𝄢 i do not own the boys or any of its characters; all rights belong to their respective creators. this is purely a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only, with no intention of profit.

Your dream was ridiculous, really. Something about an eagle making pancakes, a hamster —with a stupid looking hat— chewing on a nut.

Oh— great. The eagle just dropped a pan. It clattered loudly against the ground, and the poor hamster flailed onto its back, legs frozen midair. Gone because of a tragic tiny heart attack… But wait— no, the little lady twitched, shook herself off. She was alive!

That should've been a relief. But then the eagle turned, golden eyes locking onto you, all threatening and weird. Its beak opened wide, talons flexing—

You had to run—

Knock.

Your entire body jolted awake. A sharp gasp punched from your throat as your heart lurched. The dream slipped away in a haze of grogginess, you remembered your stupid dream and rubbed your eyes, yawning — eagles, pancakes, hamsters? What the hell? Blinking heavily, you pushed yourself up on your elbows. The room was dark, blanketed in a peaceful quiet except for the faint hum of the heater and your own uneven breathing. Maybe you imagined it—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your jaw clenched.

Oh, right. How could I forget the man-child next door?

You flopped back into the pillows with a muffled groan, pressing your face into the warmth of the fabric. Ignore him. He's just being an ass. He'll get bored eventually if you don't react to him and—

Knockknockknockknockknock.

"Ben!" you grumbled, voice muffled, laced with exhaustion. Your tone clearly carried that 'Stop it before I kill you and then myself' meaning in disguise.

A pause for a second. Then, his voice was heard through the thin wall, you could imagine his shameless smirk, it was obvious through the way he sounded. "You're awake."

"Well, not by choice."

You could hear him running his fingers through his beard. "Great. Can't sleep either."

You exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down your face. "So naturally, you decided I should suffer too."

"Misery loves company, sweetheart." The wall creaked faintly— he must have shifted, probably leaning against it. "C'mon, entertain me."

"Entertain yourself," you muttered, rolling onto your other side. "You got two whole hands, put 'em to work."

He let out a loud, amused chuckle. "Wow. Dirty mind on you, huh? Thought I was the pervert."

Your brain stalled, heat licked up the back of your neck. "That's— not what I meant!"

"Sure it wasn't. You think about me like that often, witchy?"

Oh, he is lucky there is a wall between us. You clenched your fists, resisting the very real urge to hex a hole straight through it. "I swear, if you don't let me sleep—"

Ben made a dramatic yawning sound. "Ooooh, big scary witch threats. Whatcha gonna do? Curse me with eternal blue balls?"

"I will set your bed on fire."

"You'd have to come in here to do that. C'me here, there is a big sad blank space next to me beneath these blankets."

Your eye twitched. "Ben."

"Witchy."

"Go. To. Sleep."

Silence. For a moment, you thought —hoped— he'd given up. Then, low and all smug—

"Make me."

That was it. That was it.

You kicked off your blanket with a huff, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. As you stood, you tugged at the hem of your sleep shorts, suddenly aware of how short they were, how the cool night air brushed against your bare skin.

Before anything else, you reached for the curtains, yanking them open. Silver moonlight spilled into the room, soft and pale, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. You moved on autopilot, lighting a few scented candles on your bedside table since there was a blackout in this part of the city currently, the flames' delicate glow flickering against the walls. The room smelled faintly of jasmine and something warm. You inhaled deeply, grounding yourself before you stormed towards the door, wrenching it open. At the same time, Ben's door swung open too, and suddenly— oh.

Oh.

He was closer than you expected. Standing right there in the dim hallway, leaning lazily against the doorframe, shirt hanging loose around his broad shoulders, sweatpants slung low on his hips. Barefoot. Smirking. And looking way too pleased with himself.

You folded your arms, schooling your expression into something unimpressed. "Happy now?"

Ben's gaze flicked over you, checking you out shamelessly, lingering on the hem of your sleep shorts, the oversized band tee slipping off one shoulder. His smirk deepened. "Much better now, yeah."

You should've worn something less… soft. The cotton felt too thin against your skin, and the way his eyes dragged over you wasn't helping either.

You scowled. "What do you want, Ben?"

He tilted his head, like he was considering his options. "Can't sleep."

"So?"

"So I figured you could help."

Your stomach did a very stupid, very annoying flip. "Help how?"

His lips twitched. "Relax, sweetheart. Just talk to me or somethin'. Give me a bedtime story."

"You're an actual menace."

"And yet, here you are, entertaining me."

Your mouth opened— then shut. Damn it. He had a point.

Ben grinned, and before you could stop him, he stepped forward into your room, breezing past you like he belonged there. You turned on your heel, staring in mild horror as he flopped onto your bed without a care in the world, stretching out as he yawned, folding his arms behind his head. "Comfy."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. Breathe in and out, in and out, in and out… After rolling your eyes, you sat next to him, putting a significant space between you two. "Well, big baby, couldn't you at least try count sheep or something?"

"Already tried it. Then I even imagined blowing 'em up with C4. Didn't help."

You scoffed. "Jesus Christ. Of course, you did. Considering casting a sleeping spell on you right now, you in?"

His smirk deepened. "You can try. Wouldn't work, though."

Oh? You crossed your arms, thinking if it was a challenge or a statement. "It absolutely would."

"Nah. Shit like that don't stick to me." He stretched, biceps flexing behind his head. "Guessin' it's somethin' to do with my body adaptin' to outside interference. Knockout gas, drugs, magic— don't last long. Kinda tragic, really. Gotta drink a ton of shit to even be close to getting drunk."

You blinked. That was tragic. He was a walking shield, tougher than anything, but also incapable of tasting the small, human indulgences and perks that makes the life worth living. You frowned slightly, a flicker of sympathy tugging at your expression, you felt a little sorry for him. "So you've never been affected by magic? Not once?"

Ben let out a low, amused huff, eyes flicking toward the ceiling like he was having a flashback you couldn't see before he murmured. "Not never."

You were absolutely sure you were gonna regret asking that but unfortunately, you were too intrigued. You nudged his foot lightly with your own. "Oh? Do tell."

"Hmm… You sure?" He grumbled under his breath, scrubbing a hand through his beard thoughtfully like he was debating whether to tell you or not; but when he glanced at you and saw your curious eyes, he gave in with a sigh. "Alright, fine. Had a thing with a witch once back in the '80s. We met in one of those sappy PR shows I used to sing at."

You blinked. "A witch?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't look so damn shocked. We got along fine— for a while, anyway. Sex was fuckin' fantastic. She was a real creative one in bed. Got it in her head that if she messed around with magic enough, she could make me —y'know— recharge faster. We had a routine, she would do her thing, wavin' her hands, chantin' some shit— then ta-da. My dick back to life."

You sputtered, covering your face with your hands. "Ben."

Ben seemed too pleased with himself as he watched your flustered state, he propped himself up on one elbow, grinning at your horrified expression. "Worked for a bit, too. At first. Couple spells here, some fancy incantations, and boom— good as new. Didn't matter how many times I finished, I'd be ready to go again in minutes like a machine for hours. Only problem was, after a while, my body caught on. Adapted. Stopped workin'. She got real frustrated."

Your face burned. You didn't need that visual. You really didn't need that visual.

Ben snorted as he saw your too-stunned-to-speak reaction. "You ever had a woman yell Latin at your dick in frustration? 'Cause I have."

You wheezed, you just couldn't hold it in anymore. It was absurd, you were still a little annoyed at him for waking you up but… You were entartained, let's be honest.

Ben watched you laugh with a softer gaze, clearly enjoying himself as you gasped for breath, clutching your stomach. "Stop— oh my God, I can't—" You swiped at your watering eyes, shaking your head. "Ben, that is— that's tragic, and hands down one of the worst things I've ever heard."

Ben let his head fall back agaist the headboard, an eyebrow quirked up. "Oh, c'mon. You're tellin' me you're not just a little impressed?"

You threw your hands up. "Why—Why would I be impressed?!"

He straightened his posture, shifting a little so his legs stretch a bit more. Looking you up and down. "Because, witchy, that means no matter what kinda spell you try, I ain't goin' down easy."

Your stomach flipped.

Ben must've noticed, because his smirk widened as he suddenly sat up, leaning into your space just a little, his broad frame making the bed dip. His voice dropped, lower, rougher. "If I wanted to stay up all night, I would." It was the way he said it —the way his gaze flickered over your face, pausing at your lips. The slow, deliberate lean-in, the heat radiating off him, the masculine scent of him, it was maddening.

You were sure your cheeks turned redder than Mr. Krabs in SpongeBob SquarePants. Which was a sign that you needed to bolt away before things went out of control. Well, no. Not you. It would be stupid of you to run away since it was your room, your bed. The burgundy velvet sheets looked too comfy to get away from anyway. You needed to kick him out.

You forced yourself to scoff and looked away, feigning a confidence you absolutely did not feel. "Good for you. Now get out of my bed."

He didn't move. "Or what?"

"Or—" Your brain struggled to form an actual threat that would scare him away, but too distracted by the fact that his knee was almost touching yours, that his voice was this low, that the way he was looking at you right now could not be legal. You felt the mattress shift as he suddenly pulled you down to him, your back hitting the sheets in a single swift movement, you gasped. He was leaning over you now, his face barely inches from yours, that damn smirk still playing on his lips.

"You're not very experienced in this department, are you?" He asked, and the answer was clear without ever speaking a word if you were right about the thing he meant. Your nervous energy, your trembling body, your wide-eyed expression; it was all there in the open for him to see.

He was close, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from him. He smelt like the mix of cigarettes, alcohol and his masculine cologne. Your skin prickled with every breath, his presence was overwhelming— your noses almost touching, your heavy breaths hitting each other's face, you could see every freckle planted under his eyes and nose.

"W-What department—" Your throat was tight with nervousness, your voice coming out in a tone that was barely a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. "This."

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of your bottom lip as he lowered himself down to meet you. His lips were surprisingly soft, but his kiss was anything but. It was impatient, rough, almost bruising. Like he just cared about taking what he wanted from your mouth, his tongue slipping against yours as he deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your head.

And fuck. He was good at this.

You realized you froze for a while, your hands fisting the sheets before one of them ended up against his chest, his heartbeat thrumming beneath your palm. Ben grinned against your lips, and you had the distinct urge to wipe that grin off his face— so you bit his bottom lip, just hard enough to surprise him.

He groaned, and that sound alone sent something molten curling in your stomach. He pulled back from the kiss, only to drag his lips down over your jaw and down the side of your neck— knitting your skin with reddish marks after his bites and kisses (mostly bites, of course).

You let out moan after moan, your hand coming up to grip his shoulder without even realizing it. "S—Slow down…"

Ben ignored you, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your neck as his hand slides down your side, slipping beneath the hem of your shorts, palm running over the smooth skin of your thigh.

"No."

He breathed the word straight against your skin, like a promise, before he was suddenly lifting you up; holding you effortlessly in his lap. His back against the headboard, the golden glimmers from the candles on the nightstand flickering over his handsome features. One calloused hand slid up your thigh, groping your pussy roughly through your shorts. You whimpered weakly, struggling to even keep your eyes open. "B—Ben…"

"Look at you, witchy. Fuckin' stupid 'n needy for me already. And we're just gettin' started." Ben growled, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His other hand fisted in your hair, tilting your head back before he crushed your lips together again, his beard brushing against your lips and cheeks, making you even more aroused.

You could feel his hardness pressing against you through his sweatpants, making you squirm on his lap. Ben's hands made quick work of your blouse, practically tearing it off your body in his eagerness to expose all of you to him. The fabric ripped in half easily thanks to his super-strength, the sound of the damaged garment joining your heated pants and moans. The tragic fate of your ruined blouse was followed by your shorts, in seconds.

In a matter of moments, you were left in nothing but your bra and panties, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Ben drank in the sight of you, his eyes darkening with lust. He reached around to unclasp your bra, freeing your tits. They jiggled slightly as they were released, nipples already hard and aching for his touch, and his touch only. You shivered and covered your tits, you needed to tell him. Just before he looked like was going to complain and demand you not to cover yourself, you blurted out.

"I've never done this before. Like, fully."

Ben stilled, his fingers caressing your sides stopped. For a beat, the room was just quiet. His green eyes flicked up to yours, unreadable, but softer. "Huh."

Your stomach clenched. You weren't sure what you expected— maybe for him to laugh, to tease you for it, or the bastard to say something smug about how lucky you were to have him be your first. Because that was what Soldier Boy was like, at least according to your judgement in your mind, shaped by his first and later impressions. But he didn't do any of that. He just… looked at you, lips slightly parted like he was turning something over in his head.

"Never?" His voice was low, rough around the edges. Curious.

You swallowed. "No."

Ben exhaled, long and slow through his nose, and something in his expression shifted. Yes, his usual cocky amusement was still there, but now there was something else beneath it— something darker, more intense. He wet his lips, dragging his tongue over the corner of his mouth as he placed his hands over your hands that were covering your breasts. "So what you're tellin' me," he started, voice gruff. Gently yet firmly pulling your hands away from your chest where you had been covering. "is that no one's ever gotten their hands on you like this?"

Your breath hitched, gripping your thighs as you fought the urge to cover your breasts again. "No."

His smirk came back— slow and wicked. "Christ, sweetheart." His fingers brushed over your nipples, a firm, possessive little press into your skin. "Now that's just fuckin' tragic."

You would roll your eyes if his touch didn't distract you, you whimpered. "Tragic?"

"Oh, yeah." He tsked, shaking his head like the very idea of it offended him. "All that time wasted? You coulda been ruined by now." His one hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin, featherlight and teasing. "Coulda had someone break you in nice and good. And instead?" His lips quirked, teeth flashing. "You're givin' it to me?"

Your face was on fire, you held onto his arm when he kneaded your tit. "I swear to God, Ben—"

He chuckled, dark and pleased, leaning in just enough that his breath ghosted against your jaw. "Lucky me, huh?"

You huffed. "I didn’t give you anything yet."

That only made his smirk widen. "Oh, baby. You will."

Your stomach flipped. His voice had dropped an octave, deep with filthy promise. He threw you on the bed again, your back against the burgundy sheets, watching him as he started to take his clothes off.

"First time oughta be good," He dragged the shirt up, slow enough to make you ache with anticipation. Inch by inch, his stomach was revealed— tight, scarred muscles, the deep grooves of his abs catching the dim light. The movement was deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you, taking his sweet fucking time. Torturing you. "Real good. I don't half-ass shit, sweetheart, and I sure as hell ain't gonna half-ass this."

He finally pulled the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, ruffling his hair slightly before tossing it aside. "Better?" he drawled, voice rough, cocky.

You gulped.

Better? Jesus Christ.

Your mouth had gone dry. His chest was broad, thick with muscle, dusted with just the right amount of hair. Old scars littered his skin— some small, some deep, a map of violence and survival. Ben noticed your staring. Of course he did. You were basically drooling.

He smirked. "Y'know, sweetheart… if you wanna touch, all you gotta do is ask."

You snapped out of it, rolling your eyes to cover the way your pulse spiked. "Shut up."

Ben only chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

Then, without missing a beat, his hands dropped to the waistband of his sweatpants.

Your breath caught.

He hooked his thumbs into the band, dragging them down agonizingly slow, the fabric slipping lower, revealing sharp hipbones, the deep cut of his v-line, more and more bare skin until—

The part of your body you covered was your eyes this time. "Jesus Christ, Ben!"

Ben burst into actual laughter, deep and warm and entirely too pleased with himself. "Aw, baby. You're real cute when you're flustered, y'know that?"

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut, willing yourself to breath. You heard him tossing something away, most likely his sweatpants (together with his boxers if you were lucky, or unlucky…? You weren't sure how to think because of how flustered you were).

You felt him coming close, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured, "Open your eyes, sweetheart."

Your stomach flipped.

"…You're naked, aren't you?"

A low, amused hum. "Mmm. Maybe."

Your breath hitched as he touched your rear. "Ben—"

He cut in, his voice lower, demanding. "Open them."

You hesitantly fluttered open your eyes. And— oh, God.

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes snapped up to his face, refusing to look lower, but Ben— oh, he was stroking it. His grin stretched slow, wicked amusement dancing in his green eyes.

"Atta girl." he praised, voice a rough, pleased rumble.

You absolutely should not be preening at that.

You absolutely were.

You forced your eyes to stay on his face, gripping desperately onto your last shreds of self-control. "You are so—" Your eyes accidentally looked down, and you gasped.

His long cock jutted out proudly from a nest of blond curls, the thick shaft pulsing in his hand as he pumped it slowly, putting on a show for you. The bulbous head was an angry red, glistening with precum that leaked from the tip. His heavy balls hung low, filled with his seed, ready to spill inside you.

Dear gods above and below, is that thing gonna fit?

Your chest heaved with each nervous breath as he got closer to you, slowly, until he was on his knees between your legs. He gently but firmly grasped the hem of your panties, his calloused fingers slowly dragging the delicate fabric down your soft, trembling thighs. He drank in the sight of your now bare pussy, his green eyes darkening with lust as he took in your glistening folds, untouched and pristine. Unable to resist, he leaned in, hot breath ghosting over your skin.

"Mmm, you smell divine… Now, be a good girl and let me taste you." Ben murmured, before diving in and running his tongue along your sensitive slit, tasting your virgin essence. You threw your head back and cursed lowly, gripping the sheets. He groaned at the addicting flavor, delving deeper to lap at your sensitive flesh. His beard lightly grazed yor inner thighs as he explored you with his mouth, the slight scratchiness a contrast to the softness of his tongue.

You could do nothing but to gasp and squirm beneath him, your hips bucking slightly as unfamiliar yet incredible sensations washed over you like violent waves. Ben gripped your thighs firmly, holding you steady as he continued his delicious assault, his tongue circling and flicking over your hardening clit. He sucked the sensitive nub gently before releasing it with a pop, his chin glistening with your arousal. He brought his hand up, delivering a sharp smack to your pussy. The lewd sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, followed by your startled yelp. Despite the initial shock, the stinging pain quickly morphed into pleasure, your untouched walls clenching around nothing, needy.

Did he— Did he just—?

He did. He definitely did.

Why did that feel so good?? That's not supposed to feel that good, right??

Oh god, he's smirking. He knows.

Okay, Y/N, don't give him the satisfaction. Play it cool—

"???!??!!"

Okay. Not words. That was not a sentence. That was a dying computer noise.

Oh NO, he's laughing.

This is humiliating. And yet, somehow, the best thing to ever happen to me.

Ben repeated the action, slapping your pussy rhythmically as he ate you out, the mix of sensations driving you wild with desire.

One slap.

Two, long tongue-fuckings.

Three slaps.

Sucking you out for god-knows-how-long seconds.

"Oh god, Ben!" you cried out, your fingers tangling in his blond hair as he devoured you like his last meal. Your cheeks were warming up, eyes glazed over with lust as you writhed beneath him, rapidly approaching your first ever orgasm with the touch of a man at his skilled ministrations. He doubled his efforts, tongue plunging deep inside your tight channel as he slapped your dripping cunt, bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"C'mon, witchy. Say my fuckin' name. Wanna hear you scream it." He demanded without pulling his lips away, low and urgent.

You could only comply, your voice reaching a fever pitch as the intense sensations consumed you. "BEN! Oh— Fuck! I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" you screamed, needy pussy clenching vice-tight around his plundering tongue as your orgasm crashed over you. Your hips bucked wildly as wave after wave of pure bliss radiated through your body, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. Ben continued to lap at your quivering folds, helping to ride out your very first climax, his green eyes gleaming with pride and satisfaction at turning you into a writhing, screaming mess.

Cocky bastard. But it's his right to be cocky after that performance, so I'm not gonna complain.

Ben's mouth glistened, lips curled into a smug smirk as he pulled back, watching you with dark, heated eyes. "Fuck, sweetheart. Look at you—" he rasped. You could barely hold yourself up, your breath coming out in short, desperate little pants.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, slow and deliberate, like he wanted you to watch. Wanted you to see just how much he enjoyed wrecking you with his tongue. And judging by the way he was looking at you —hungry, predatory, downright feral— he was far from satisfied.

"You taste so fuckin' sweet, baby." he murmured, dragging his hands up your thighs, spreading them wider as he moved up your body, settling between them. His throbbing cock dragged against your slick folds, making you shudder.

Ben chuckled low, feeling the way you tensed beneath him. "What's the matter, witchy?" he teased, voice deep, rough with amusement. "Thought you wanted this."

His fingers trailed along your jaw, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. His lips were barely an inch from yours, teasing, tempting. "Look at you. Already fucked out— and I ain't even inside you yet."

You swallowed, heat pooling low in your stomach as he rocked against you— just enough to tease, to drive you insane. His cock pressed right against your enterance, but he didn't push in. Not yet. He was making you wait— making you beg.

"Tell me how bad you want it, baby." His voice was low, gruff, his breath hot against your lips. "Tell me you need me."

When you hesitated, too stubborn to give in so easily, he tch'd under his breath, shaking his head. His hand slid down your body, fingers ghosting over your stomach, lower— until his calloused fingertips brushed against your soaked cunt. You gasped, hips jerking at the barely-there touch.

Ben's smirk deepened. "Drippin' all over me, sweetheart. Fuckin' soaked." He pressed a teasing kiss to your jaw, then lower, his beard scraping deliciously against your skin. "C'mon. Say it."

"P—Please, Ben… I need you… I need you so much…"

He chuckled, low and satisfied, giving you a sharp, teasing thrust that nearly had you seeing stars. "That's my girl."

You threw your head back, a silent scream of pained pleasure ripping from your lungs as you were finally getting filled by Ben. Your velvety walls stretched deliciously around his thick cock, fluttering and clenching as they struggled to accommodate his size. Tears of overwhelming emotion and sensation pricked at the corners of your eyes, your body trembling beneath his.

Oh. Ohhh. So that's what all the hype is about.

He was heavy, and he was everywhere. You couldn't escape it, the sensations coming off his body was making your skin feel like it was on fire.

"You're so goddamn tight— like you were made to take me. Fuckin' perfect." Ben grunted, his hips stilling as he allowed you a moment to adjust. He peppered your face with tender kisses, brushing away your tears with the pads of his thumbs. "Feel that? That's me ruinin' you. You'll still feel me tomorrow, bet on it." His voice was a low, intense murmur. Ben began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside before slamming back in, setting a deep, claiming rhythm.

The bed creaked beneath you with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. There was a heavy mix of smell in the room, sex and jasmine— from the burning candles. The hot flames reflecting the passion and need between you two. You could only cling to him, your nails raking down his muscular back as he took you hard and deep, each drive of his hips sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

"Yes, Ben! Oh god, yes!" You cried out, your voice echoing off the bedroom walls as you surrendered completely to the intense sensationa. You wrapped your shaking legs around his waist, locking your ankles as he pounded into you mercilessly. The new feelings were overwhelming, your virgin body struggling to process the depth of feeling as it was claimed so thoroughly by Soldier Boy. Each thrust pushed you closer to the edge, your second climax building rapidly as Ben fucked you with wild abandon.

You were in a state of haze, you didn't know when it happened, really. One second, you he was pounding into you as he was; one second his long fingers were wrapped around your throat.

Oh?

Your eyes widened, a thrill of fear and excitement shooting through you as you realized his intent.

Oh. Oh, I like this.

No— wait. Too much power in his hands. Literally. This man could snap my neck like a glow stick and wouldn't even break a sweat.

…And yet, why is that hot?

"Ben, I- ahh!" Your words cut off with a choked gasp as his fingers tightened.

"That's it, fuckin' take it. Thought you had a sharp mouth— where's all that backtalk now, huh?" Ben's eyes flashed with lust as he watched your face, taking in the pretty flush spreading across your cheeks, the way your plump lips parted in silent screams of ecstasy.

Okay, okay, I should say something sexy back. Maybe something— oh god, I just made a noise I didn't know I could make. Nevermind.

Your virgin walls were fluttering and clenching around his driving cock, your body's instinctive reaction to the lack of oxygen only heightening your pleasure. Ben growled, a feral sound of pure satisfaction, as he fucked you wild, pounding into you. The bed frame slammed against the wall with each powerful thrust, the lewd sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezin' my cock, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice was strained with the effort of holding back his rapidly approaching orgasm. "Gonna… ungh… gonna fill this tight little cunt… Come with me, Y/N. Now." His grip on your throat tightened fractionally as he slammed into you one, two, three more times before burying himself to the hilt with a guttural roar.

Your eyes rolled back, your tongue lolling out as the intense sensations crashed over you. The pressure around your neck, combined with the relentless pounding of your pussy pushed you past the point of no return. "BEN!" you screamed, your voice raw and ragged as your orgasm crashed through you. Your cunt clamped down on his throbbing cock like a vice, the slick walls rippling and milking his shaft as he erupted deep inside you.

Ben threw himself on you, hips jerking erratically as he filled you completely. His grip on your throat loosened as he rode out the aftershocks, his hips giving shallow little thrusts as the last spurts of his hot seed filled you up. You gasped and shuddered under him, your lungs burning as they cried out for air. The feeling of Ben's weight pressing down on you, pinning you in place as he emptied himself inside you, was the most incredible thing you had ever experienced.

You could get used to this— not that you'd ever admit it to his face.

It was… nice.

Annoyingly so.

You felt light as a feather, like you were drunk of him. The room was steeped in a golden hush, the flickering glow of candles casting soft shadows against the burgundy velvet sheets tangled around your legs. The air was warm, thick with the scent of sex and the faint, making you high as hell.

Then reality settled back in.

"…You're crushing me."

Ben huffed against your shoulder, amused and tired. "You're fine."

You were not fine. You were pinned beneath two hundred and fifty pounds of super-powered weight, and your legs still tingled with the aftershocks of what he'd done to you. You shifted slightly— big mistake. A sharp pulse of soreness was felt between your thighs, raw and aching, it made your breath hitch.

Ben noticed, his smirk softening. He laid on his back, pulling you over him. Slowly, his hand slid lower, tracing a lazy path down your body, fingertips brushing the curve of your hip, ghosting over the dip of your waist—

You tensed. "Ben—"

"Relax," he muttered, voice low, rough, but… weirdly gentle. His fingers pressed into your muscles, kneading with slow, practiced strokes, searching for every knot of tension and working them loose. Your throat tightened.

He wasn't supposed to do this. Wasn't supposed to be like this— warm, careful. The Soldier Boy everyone feared was crass, reckless, cruel. The jaw-dropping and chilling stories about Soldier Boy that Butcher told you were still lingering in the back of your mind. That man was not… Ben. Not the man drawing circles into your skin like he actually gave a damn.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the ceiling, on the rhythmic glide of his touch, on the way the warmth of his palm seeped into your skin.

Then, suddenly he pulled away.

You blinked, startled, as he stretched an arm towards the nightstand, fingers closing around the pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his sweatpants.

Oh. So much for affection.

You frowned, tugging the blanket up to your chin as if that might hide your disappointment, trying not to pout. "Oh, hell no. You are not lighting that in bed."

Ben shot you a lazy smirk, already slipping a cigarette between his lips. "Oh yeah?"

You scowled, shoving weakly at his shoulder. "No smoking in my room, asshole."

In response to that, he flicked the burning cigarette to the bed.

You gasped. "Ben!"

He laughed, completely unapologetic as you scrambled over the mattress, cursing under your breath while patting out the ember before it could set your sheets on fire. By the time you whirled back to glare at him, he was already sprawled out on his back, arms folded behind his head, looking disgustingly pleased with himself. Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and smacked him with it.

Ben barely flinched, just snorted and hooked an arm around your waist, tugging you back into the blankets. The fight drained out of you as you landed against his chest, your cheek pressing against the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His hand found its way back to your waist, stroking idly, tracing mindless patterns against your skin.

Your heart thudded painfully.

If I make it out of this weekend alive, I am never making fun of romance novels again.

Not because there is anything romantic between us… —with ben? pffh. not in a million years, ever— Just, sex-wise…

"…We need to clean up." you muttered, voice muffled as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck.

Ben only hummed in response, his arms holding you tighter, pulling you even closer. And after a few minutes, the impossible finally happened— he slept. A slow, smug smile curled at your lips as you nestled closer. His arm was heavy and possessive, draped over your waist, keeping you anchored against him. Cured from his insomnia.

Not thanks to a spell, but thanks to… pussy, you supposed.

💘𝄢 requested tags : @kr804573 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @bakugotypecrashout @petrichorsrainsblog @alidiggory92 @lunaleah

#𐂂 𝄢 syl's fics #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #jensen ackles #enemies to lovers

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mermaidgirl30 · 10 months ago

Text

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 3: Take It All✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: This series is quickly becoming one of my favorites to write. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading for me 🥰

Chapter Summary: Another night back at Club Inferno comes with more than you bargained for. There’s pleasure, but something else starts slipping through. That something might be feelings.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.8k

Tags: Dom! Joel, soft! Joel, flirting, feelings, pining, unprotected piv, fingering, so much filth, a little angst, Joel takes you on the pool table

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Shut up! No he didn’t!” Brianna screams over the rim of her cold glass of strawberry wine.

“Yeah,” you giggle as Taylor joins in on the screaming chaos.

“You mean to tell me that man took you into his private room and went down on you?” Taylor asks excitedly as she pauses 10 Things I Hate About You and sets the black controller on the rustic coffee table.

“Mhm,” you hum shyly over a mouthful of bubbling wine.

Brianna leans forward on the violet couch and curls her fingers into the velvet of her cotton blanket. “Did he make you come?” she asks with raised eyebrows, like she’s investigating you for anything you might be keeping from her.

You swallow some wine and clear your throat as your cheeks turn a bright red color. “Three times,” you say shyly as you push a lock of hair behind your ear.

Brianna spits out a mouthful of wine into her glass, and Taylor nearly falls off the edge of the couch. “No he did not, shut the fuck up!” Brianna shouts as she reaches over and grabs onto your pink blanket that’s sprawled across your lap freely.

“Three times? Holy shit,” Taylor whispers as her green flecked eyes grow wide.

“Three times,” you confirm as you push your back into the soft cushions of the couch. “And I may have deep throated him…” you giggle out as your cheeks grow hot.

“You little slut!” Brianna teases as she jumps out of her seat and joins you on the opposite side of the sectional. “Three times? God, that must’ve been amazing. And his cock? Was he big?”

“So big,” you gush as you sip more of the cool beverage in your hand.

“You lucky girl! Evan doesn’t even make me orgasm three times,” Taylor whines as she leans over and grabs a handful of buttery popcorn. “He must like you a lot.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you say skeptically as you play absentmindedly with the fringe on the end of the soft blanket.

“Don’t play coy with me!” Taylor shouts across the end of the sofa, glittering eyes all on you as she waits for you to continue. “So, what happened after?”

You rake a hand nervously over your thigh and look up innocently. “Well, it was kind of weird, I guess. He, ummm… he cuddled with me. Like in a soothing, gentle way, and he told me to relax because I was tense. And I just kinda sank down into his chest while his fingers brushed over my arms. And it just felt… safe.”

Brianna and Taylor give each other a knowing glance, one only shared between the two of them. You know that look, the serious and concerned look.

“Babe,” Brianna says gently as she puts a hand softly on your knee, “that’s called aftercare. It’s normal, or it should be.”

“Yeah, I know. It just kinda startled me. I wasn’t… expecting that, you know? It kinda scared me.”

Brianna nods your way and keeps her light brown eyes on yours. “Yeah, I get it. But not all the guys are going to be like… well, you know who. It sounds like Joel is a good guy. From the sounds of it, he seems to like you a lot.”

You smile warmly as you look back down and nod your head while you twist your fingertips into the edge of your silky shorts. “Maybe. He got me chicken and water after he cuddled with me. He didn’t even have chicken in the back of the club before last week. I kinda complained there weren't any food options at the bar, and I guess he took it to heart.”

“What the hell, that man does like you!” Taylor screams across the way which nearly sends you into shock. “Chicken? He made you chicken? One of your favorite things to eat? That’s insane, and you didn’t even have to ask. Yes, babe! He likes you a lot! I don’t know another man that would do that. None of my hookups ever went that far for me. Seriously, I’m so happy we pushed you to go talk to him.”

You giggle out and shake your head, flipping your phone over in your shaking hands as you think of those smoldering dark eyes and devilish smirk. “I’m glad you guys made me go talk to him. He’s ummm… pretty great.”

Taylor throws a sequenced teal pillow at your arm and talks through a mouth full of popcorn, “Are you gonna see him again?”

“Yeah, Saturday,” you blush as you smile nervously her way.

“Oh, look at you! Gonna go back to his playroom while he has his way with you? Kinky girl. God, it’s like something out of Fifty Shades.”

“Bri!” you laugh as you shove her in the shoulder while she nearly spills her wine all over her lap. “It’s not like that.”

“No? So the man didn’t have you ride his thigh in a dark hallway where anyone could see, and he didn’t take you back to his private room and give you the best three orgasms of your life?”

“I mean, yes, but no! He’s not like some intense BDSM man. He’s warm, gentle, a bit of a dom, and the man says absolute filth, but he’s so… sweet, too.”

Taylor and Brianna raise their eyebrows at you and smirk. Oh no. That can’t be good. Who knows what kind of insanity is about to come out of their mouths.

“Sounds like he’s the perfect Christian Grey then, yeah?” Taylor laughs while you throw the pillow back at her.

“You guys are too much,” you smile.

Suddenly, your phone lights up as it buzzes in your lap. You unlock the screen, and your eyes light up like a Christmas tree when you see Joel’s name scrolled across the screen. You giggle like a little school girl who’s about to get a handful of candy when you read his text.

Joel: Passed by the library today on my way to work. Made me think of you. Almost stopped in, but figured you’d already be off. Maybe I should’ve tried my luck. Might’ve got to see those beautiful eyes of yours in the sunlight. See ya Saturday, angel. ;)

You can’t stop smiling, your cheeks feel like they’re stretched to their limit as you curl your toes underneath you and squeeze your fingers around the delicate blanket. Joel sure knows how to make your heart flutter uncontrollably.

“What are you beaming about, hmm? Is it Mr. Club Owner?” Taylor laughs from the other side of the couch.

“Let’s see.” Brianna snatches your phone from your clutch, and you try to dive for it, but she holds it up to where you can’t reach.

“Bri, give it!”

“Oh, I was right. It is him! And holy shit is he obsessed with you. Look at how cute this text is, Taylor!” Brianna tosses it to Taylor, and she catches it with ease as she scrolls through your numerous texts with Joel.

Taylor practically loses it as she chokes on a sip of wine. “He called you beautiful! He can’t wait to see you again? And Christ, you guys have been texting a lot. Fuck me!”

You lean forward and grab the phone from her prying fingers and set it down underneath your fuzzy blanket. “Okay, guys. You had your fun. Happy?” you ask annoyed, rolling your eyes as you try to hide the flush of crimson that’s bright on your cheeks.

“Umm yeah, babe! He is totally into you!” Brianna squeaks as she tosses a piece of buttered popcorn your way. You dodge it and shake your head at her while she sets down her fizzy drink on the edge of the polished coffee table.

“You think so?” you giggle, biting your lower lip.

“I know so! Ugh, you’re so lucky. Love this for you, though,” Brianna smiles, tipping the wine glass back to her pink lips.

You sigh and shake your head as you listen to your two friends scream back and forth excitedly at each other. You just sit back and take another sip of wine and stare at Joel’s sweet message. Saturday can’t come soon enough.

Saturday comes faster than a blink as you’re standing in front of the flashing sign of Club Inferno. You shift your weight in your sparkly heels and adjust the short pink dress that barely covers half your thighs. You don’t mind dressing up if it means Joel Miller can’t take his eyes off you for one second. That’s what you want. You want his attention, and you have it. You have all of it.

When you walk through the dark doors, you’re shrouded in a mist of smoke. The stench of messy lipstick and alcohol surrounds you, and the spinning disco ball shimmers over your sparkly eyeshadow. It’s crowded tonight, bodies lined all on the dance floor, music coursing through your ears. It pumps the adrenaline that fills your shaky body because you know why you’re here. You’re here for Joel.

You spin in a circle, clicking your heels on the shiny floor as you look from the crowded bar to the sea of dancers. Joel, where is Joel? Maybe he’s…

You hear a man clearing his throat from behind you and then a long Southern drawl fills your ears. “Lookin’ for Joel, sweetheart?”

You abruptly turn, whipping your hair behind your shoulders as you eye the man who asked you about Joel. You blink once, twice as you take him in, a little surprised at how similar he seems to Joel. He’s tall, long slicked back almost black hair, the same chocolate eyes as Joel’s, even a similar smirk takes the stage.

You shift your weight to your left, notice the expensive leather boots he’s wearing, a silky black button-up shirt tucked into pressed dress pants, and a handsome face to go with the outfit. He definitely reminds you a lot of Joel, and his accent, the same Southern accent as Joel’s. Was this his brother?

“Huh, Joel?” you ask stunned, blinking up at the tall figure that now stands in front of you, hovering like he’s pressing for answers.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, nodding to the hallway. “Saw you with Joel the past couple of weekends. Figured you were lookin’ for him tonight as well.”

“How did you…”

He interrupts, holding his hand out for you to take. “Apologies, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Tommy. Tommy Miller, Joel’s younger brother, the other owner of this club.”

You take his strong hand in yours and let him shake, giving him a curt smile and a nod. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy. Nice to put a face to the name.” You tell him your name, and he smiles at you.

He drops your hand and slides it in the pocket of his pants, giving you a quick once over to assess your outfit, an almost invisible smirk appearing over his dark mustache. “My brother treatin’ you good, I reckon? Takin’ care of ya?”

Before you can respond back with flushed cheeks, a big hand comes down on Tommy’s shoulder and out steps Joel with a wide grin on his face, a deep chuckle dropping off his tongue as he looks you dead in the eye.

“Yeah, Tommy. Takin’ real good care of her, don’t you worry.” The response makes you blush and tingle all along your spine, creating a girlish giggle in your chest that you hold in once you meet the chocolate eyes of Joel Miller, the prettiest brown eyes you have ever seen in your life.

“Don’t I know it, Joel,” Tommy says with a big grin, hitting his brother playfully in the chest before he steps back with the glow of his cell phone lighting up his palm. “Well, guess I’ll let you get to it. Take care, sweetheart.” He whispers something in Joel’s ear, something along the lines of “Beautiful girl. Lucky you, brother.”

Joel claps his hand on the back of his shoulder and shakes his head. “Down, Tommy. Why don’t you go find one for yourself,” he chuckles, stepping out to hook his arm in yours. “Guess you’ve met my brother now.”

“Yeah,” you smile, looking back to see Tommy give you a playful wink and then head towards the bar as he delves into talking with customers lined against the glossy black front doors. “Seems nice.”

“Mmm. Nice. Sure, but he’s a flirt and a pain in my ass,” he chuckles, leading you through a loud group of females drinking cocktails and gossiping to each other.

He stops a second to turn towards you, eyes flicking up and down your body, a little shimmer of excitement reaching his honey eyes. And then he smiles. “You look real pretty tonight, sweetheart.”

You blush, clear your throat and turn to look up at him. “Thank you,” you stammer. “And you. Well, you’re always handsome,” you blush again, biting your tongue when he smirks your way.

He does look handsome tonight. With his clean white button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, always hugging his bulging biceps, and his dark jeans that cling to tight muscles. And his slicked back curls, and his salt-and-pepper scruff, and his gorgeous chocolate eyes and fuck. You like it all, you like everything about him. And deep down that scares you, like sharp teeth could wrap around your ankles and drag you down under the dark waves. Like this could end badly. So badly.

He yanks you out of your murky thoughts and leads you under more sparkling lights, pink signs flashing every which way, more than the crimson reds you first saw here.

You glance at the sea of dancers, bodies swaying and circling every which way, the disco ball throwing glittering lights over pressed suits and skimpy dresses. The song is upbeat, loud, humming across the ray of bodies lined on the dance floor. And it pulls you in, like you want to join in the madness.

“Do you ever dance?” The question leaves your mouth before you can even think of what you just asked. Of course he doesn’t. He’s the club owner, why would he do that?

“Sometimes,” he replies, chocolate eyes flashing towards the sea of people dancing with each other.

He looks down at you, raises a brow, and a question slides over his flecks of chocolate desire. “Why do you ask?” He’s leaving the question open, like he wants you to be the brave one and ask. He’s trying to get you out of your closed up shell, wants you to take initiative for once. And maybe you should. Maybe you should just give in.

His eyes bore into yours, eyebrow raising higher on his forehead, sharp lines cutting across tanned skin. “Umm no reason. I was just wondering what kind of dancer you were,” you say nervously, your free hand clinging to the fabric of your pink dress, glossy lips puckering with a fit of nerves. He wouldn’t, would he?

He chuckles, a sly smirk spreading across his mouth as he takes your hand and nods his head to the dance floor. “Guess we gotta go find out then, hmm?”

He pulls you through the crowded dance floor, past sweaty bodies, the flashing lights blinding your senses as he pulls you into his broad chest in a small corner, his back hitting the glittery dark walls while he pulls you flush to his chest, his hands sliding slowly down to your hips.

You gulp, completely breathless as he chuckles and starts to sway his hips to the rhythm, eyes locked tight on yours. Your fingers clutch around his cotton dress shirt, the air feeling thicker with every breath you take, a burning sensation starting between your thighs with every movement he makes.

He slides one hand dangerously close to your ass, the other entwining with your fingers, your hips magically doing exactly what he tells you to, like he’s using mind powers on your body. And you’re in a trance, a magnetic trance, all forces of gravity pulling you towards him like this is where you belong, beneath his body.

“So, how am I doin’, darlin’? My dancing up to par?” he smiles, teasing you in the best way.

“I’d say you’re a better dancer than I took you for,” you laugh, feeling the heat collide between your fingers with each touch he leaves on your skin.

“Haven’t even shown you the best part yet,” he smirks.

He spins you around quickly, pulling your back flush against his beating chest, hands skating across your body as he takes it even further, moving your hair to the side and slowly gliding his lips against your collarbone, enough to where you can smell, almost taste that addictive whiskey smell that trademarks Joel.

You get lost in the way his hips grind into yours, thick fingers dancing over the fabric of your dress, his breath blowing down your neck, causing stars to form in the flecks of your eyes.

He leans down and glides his plush lips across the shell of your ear, one large hand sliding up your thigh, thick fingers teasing your dress line, slowly inching it up until he teases the inside of your thigh, making slick run like a river against your lace.

“You know, you look mighty pretty in that little pink dress, sweetheart, but I think you’d look even better out of it,” he whispers, making you jolt from the filthy words that come out of his mouth.

“You think so?” you pant while he pulls you even closer, enough to feel the growing bulge in his pants as he grinds against you.

“Mmm, I do. I do.” He sinks his mouth down on your neck, stifling a moan from your throat as he nips and sucks the sensitive area, right where you have that sweet spot.

His hand brushes higher, pushing your dress dangerously high as his magnetizing lips set your skin ablaze. He knows what he’s doing, getting you all worked up so you’ll be more than ready for him. And you’re there, you’re already so fucking wet. He might as well just take you here in front of everyone. You think you’d let him, don’t even care who watches. You’re just so turned on that you can’t even register what song is buzzing against your eardrums, all you hear, all you feel is his hot breath and calloused fingers on your skin. And his lips melting like honey on your skin. It feels fucking incredible.

“Know you must be so wet for me, sweetheart. The way your shallow breaths and body’s reactin’ to me. Oh, you’re right there, ain’t ya? So fuckin’ wet,” he growls, slipping his thumb against your soaked panties until another moan comes collapsing from your glossy lips.

“Mmmm. Take me to the back, Joel. Need to… need to…” You lose your train of thought as his fingers drop from your thigh, snatching your wrist up and dragging you back to the room where he’ll have his way with you.

“Don’t have to ask me twice, angel. Gonna take real good care of ya, pretty girl,” he purrs in your ear while his hand clasps around your wrist, pulling you through the sea of crowded bodies on the dance floor.

You let the music thrum through your eardrums, let him drag you down the dark hallway, let your body buzz with the endless possibilities of you and him. All you see is him in the mirage of flashing and sparkling lights as he leads you down down down until he’s pulling you into the room that’ll be your dark awakening.

The first thing you see when you enter the dim room is the little coffee table packed with two cold water bottles, a glass of whiskey on the rocks, a mixed fruity drink just for you, and a cloth towel just sitting in waiting for the two of you.

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” you ask as he hands you your drink. You take a sip from the citrusy goodness and let the cherry, coconut flavor slide down the back of your throat blissfully.

He takes a gulp of his whiskey on ice and nods his head to you as he wets his bottom tongue. “Figured we’d skip the crowded bar, have a little alone time.” The way he says alone makes nerves run down your spine because you know what that’ll lead to.

“Your drink okay?” he asks, cocking his head to the right, honey eyes wading into yours.

“It’s perfect. Thanks,” you mutter, trying not to get lost in the shimmer of his captivating smile.

You take a few more sips and then set it down, letting your heels click across the polished floor, right to the edge of the large pool table. You let your fingertips run along the wooden sides, gently skate your hand across the red felt, let your eyes roam over every square inch of the table, wondering if Joel’s a good player.

“You play pool?” he asks, his voice deep floating across the room behind you.

“Not too much. You?”

“Sometimes. I play with the boys on Thursdays.”

“Sounds fun,” you muse, dragging your finger up and down the red velvet, analyzing the colorful pool balls in the middle of the table.

“It can be.” His voice materializes next to you as he sets his whiskey glass down on the pool table. “You think you’re any good?” He leans against the pool table, eyes directly on you.

You shrug. “I’m sure not as good as you,” you laugh, heels clicking against the floor as you turn towards him.

“What makes you say that?” His head cocks to the side, eyes lingering over your soft dress.

“Well, for one, this is your club, your pool table. And you’re good at everything, aren’t you?”

“And what makes you think you aren’t, hmm?” He steps closer, a playful smirk on his lips as his silvery scruff reflects under the dim lights. Suddenly, you feel a little warmer than when he was across the room just seconds ago.

“I don’t know. I’m not… I just…”

“You’re not what?” he asks.

“As experienced…” you say timidly, eyes flicking down towards the red trimming on the table.

He cups your chin with his palm and lifts your eyes up to his, deep brown eyes staring into yours like crystal clear pools. Pools you want to jump in. “Then let me show you.”

He slowly trails behind you, grabbing your hips and lining you up perpendicular to the table, your heart beating strongly inside your throat. “First, you gotta be in position. Eyes right on the target, exactly where you want the cue stick to move to.”

He backs you against his hips, pushing you flush against the edge of the pool table while you stifle a groan at the sensation of him behind your body.

“Then, you gotta take a deep breath, imagine you’re the cue stick, feel exactly where you want to hit.” His lips line with the shell of your ear, enough to where he’s teasing your skin, one hand slowly dragging up your dress, one leg spreading yours wider as you brace your hands on the table.

“Then what?” you ask, almost panting.

“Then,” he glides his calloused fingers up your inner thigh, right in the crease where his thumb drags along the edge of your lace. “You gotta brace your shoulders, open your legs jus’ enough so you can snap the ball right where you want it to go.”

He spreads your legs even wider by putting his leg between yours and teases your wet slit with his thumb, his teeth dragging down your neck as he coos against the shell of your ear. “Jus’ as I suspected. Fuckin’ wet,” he chuckles, moving your panties to the side as he starts teasing up and down your folds.

“Mmmm, been wet since the dance floor because aaaah,” you moan as he starts slowly circling your puffy clit, making a wave of slick spill between your thighs.

“Yeah, s’that right, angel?” he chuckles as he starts to unzip your dress, slowly working it off your body till it’s a pile around your ankles, and the only thing left on is your panties that are pushed to the side forcefully.

He tugs the lace free, stripping you bare and leaving you in a wave of arousal as he pushes you harder into the side of the pool table, your mind spinning in a blur as he starts circling your aching clit.

“Joel,” you breathe, hot gasps leaving your lips as two thick fingers curl up inside your dripping hole. You tip your head back into his broad chest and feel the way he lights a fire in your core with his experienced fingers.

“Yeah? You like that, don’t ya? Think you’re ready for more,” he chuckles, sliding his hand from your hip and then undoing the zipper of his jeans.

Your eyes grow wider when you hear the clank of his belt and feel the denim material being pushed to the ground, along with his boxers as you feel the hardening of his cock digging into the small of your back. You groan as he takes his tip and slides it along your wet folds, coating himself in your slick as you moan against the glorious feel of him.

He spreads your legs wider, bending your hips slightly over the firm table as he slowly pushes the tip inside your waiting hole. You squeak, silently begging him to continue. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

As if he can hear your screams inside your mind, he bends over and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear. “Now, for your next lesson, you’re gonna take all of me,” he growls, stifling a moan from you as he inches in a little more, his large head spreading you wide as you anticipate the full length of him inside you.

“All of you?” you whisper, curling your fingers against the red carpet of the giant pool table, imagining how good it’ll feel for him to pound his thick cock deep inside you.

“All of me,” he confirms with the snap of his teeth.

He gives you no time to think until he’s plunging deep inside you, hard. You gasp as he splits you in two, the stretch has you moaning his name, has more slick running down the bulging veins that surround his massive cock. And then he’s thrusting harder, deeper inside you, and you swear he’s kissing your cervix.

“Oh, fuck me,” you moan against the table, the side of your face kissing the red felt while your fingers dig into the soft material.

“Fuck you, huh? Ain’t that what I’m doin’, pretty girl? Or do you want it harder?” he growls, his thick fingers pulling you by the hips until he’s absolutely drilling you against the pool table.

You can’t think straight, can’t even comprehend how you got here, all you can think about are those smoldering dark eyes and his tower of a cock that’s throwing bolts of intense pleasure inside your entire body. And it feels so fucking good.

“Harder,” you plead, almost to the point of tears from how much he’s splitting you in two right now, but you don’t want it to stop, you never want him to stop.

“Fuck. C’mere then,” he snaps as he pulls his cock free from you and spins you around to where you’re sitting on the edge of the pool table, your legs straddling his hips until he’s pulling you to the very edge and lining up with your dripping core again.

“You want it harder? Then take it.” He smirks devilishly your way and then thrusts hard into you, so deep that you’re arching your back and calling out his name.

“Good girl, angel. Say my name. Jus’ like that,” he demands, and then his mouth latches to one of your breasts, his tongue flat against your pebbling nipple as you scream with a wave of pleasure that rides through your core. He does the same to the other one, lapping against it until your hands are laced through his tousled curls, making a groan slip from his own lips at the feel of your soft fingers latched around his messy hair.

“Yes, yes,” you moan as you feel his cock relentlessly driving up inside you, at an angle that kisses your spongy spot that makes you see entire galaxies, and his coarse hair ruts against your needy clit that screams his name with each stroke he gives you.

You’re right on the edge of breaking, and he knows. He knows. “Attagirl, angel. Takin’ my cock so well.” You try to pant out a response, but none comes. You’re so gone in the stroke of his cock, in the sensational bliss that Joel is giving you that you can only croak out another tired moan.

“Know you’re close, sweetheart. Let it out. Let me see you come on this cock,” he growls.

He cups your chin and lifts your head to where your eyes are level with his. You gasp, seeing just how beautiful those flecks of onyx and dark shades of chocolate are that coat his eyes, making them almost sparkle around the room.

You suddenly feel vulnerable like you need to avert your gaze, but you can’t. You just… can’t.

The way he’s looking at you like a starving lion makes you squeeze around his cock. He wants to devour you on the spot, but there’s also something else entirely in his gaze that softens just the slightest. And it makes you desperate to run, hide in the shadows so he won’t bring out these growing feelings that you’re feeling right now.

Do not fall for him, he’s not yours to fall for. You don’t need another repeat of before, you don’t need him. But you’re afraid you do need him, and that scares the hell out of you.

His eyes bore into yours so intensely that you swear you can see fireworks flashing off inside those gorgeous irises, numerous vibrant colors blinding you with shades of dark browns and flecks of gold that you swear you feel them colliding straight into your heart.

He smells of whiskey and forest cologne that have pine cones and chopped wood mixed into the very fabric of his being that you almost drown in the scent. It’s so overly consuming that it threatens to knock you off this table and onto the floor where you’d drag Joel down with you.

His lips are so close to yours, his forehead nearly collides with yours as you feel the sweat from his tousled curls drip down onto your forehead. And he’s staring directly at your mouth.

Oh, fuck.

You want to know what he tastes like, want to feel that beautiful mouth on yours, want to collide your tongue with the taste of his sweet cinnamon flavor, but you just can’t. Kissing is intimate, kissing means this is more. But you want it to be more, don’t you? And that thought alone drags you out of the intense trance you’re under.

Just when he’s about to go for your lips, you quickly turn your head, and his mouth lands directly on your flushed neck. His eyebrows furrow a little like he’s confused, a little hurt even that you moved your face, and the guilt takes a hold and wraps tightly around your insides, but you push it aside as Joel instead starts kissing down the side of your neck.

He tangles his thick fingers in your mess of locks, his hot breath breathing down your body as he starts to suck ravenously at your collarbone. His hips thrust hard up inside you, continually kissing that sweet spongy part that has your body begging for more. You’re so far gone that your head feels foggy and heavy as you start to combust.

You feel the blinding orgasm wash over his relentless cock, hear your own ragged breaths and loud moans surround the shiny black walls of this massive back room, and what sends you over the edge again is Joel’s crooked smirk and deep, gravelly voice as he calls you a good girl while you squeeze around his large cock.

You’re exhausted, body spent, but he’s not done with you yet. He hasn’t come, and you know he’s about to make you lose control again.

“Christ, you feel jus’ like velvet comin’ around my cock, angel. Wanna feel you do it again. Wanna take you over the edge,” he pants out, and then he starts to climb your body.

He pushes you back to where you’re sprawled against the middle of the pool table, your legs spread apart, the colorful pool table balls flying every which way as you topple over them, and then he crawls on top of you like he’s dominating your very being. You gasp when he folds your knees into your chest, your body being twisted like a pretzel.

He takes his thumb and starts spreading your slick over your soft folds, and he moans at the sensation of your wetness beneath him. “So fuckin’ soft for me, your pussy is like pure satin beneath my touch. Jesus Christ,” he groans as he brings his thumb up to his mouth and sucks the arousal off his calloused skin.

Your eyes grow wide at the mere vision of him above you delving into your taste, watching him moan against you as precum drips onto your messy pussy. You moan at the sight of him, the tousled hair, the expansive muscles that make up the shape of him, the dark eyes that penetrate you into place, the silver threads that lace his beard. He’s so fucking beautiful that you could lay here and stare at him for hours. He’s just that electric, and you’re afraid you’re falling hard for him, and maybe you can’t stop yourself from slipping into the darkness, but he’d catch you. At least you’d like to think he would.

“Joel,” you mutter, your voice almost a whisper, and you’re sure you look completely wrecked beneath him.

“What is it, angel?” he asks, almost softly as he brushes a strand of hair delicately behind your ear.

Intimate, that’s fucking intimate. But you’re not sure you have the strength to give a shit at the moment, you just need him to touch you again.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, eyes teary as you look up at him, clinging to his broad shoulders.

He chuckles and leans in, his warm breath blowing over your face. “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.”

He quickly pins your arms above your head, his hands lacing around your wrists and then he’s plunging deep inside you like the hilt of a sword, his cock splitting you in two all over again as his dark eyes stare directly into yours.

It’s like an entirely different world in here than out there in the overly loud crowd, but in here it’s just the two of you, ragged breaths and tumbling bodies that seem to magnetize to each other. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced in your life, the insane pleasure coursing down every single nerve ending in your body, and Joel just makes it burn that much hotter.

He clenches his teeth the deeper he ruts into you. Your high-pitched moans collide with Joel’s, and the room is filled with a symphony of ecstasy. His hands go everywhere on your body, and you swear you’re about to ignite into flames in this very spot. You might just burn the entire club down.

His forehead falls down on yours, his lips so close, practically screaming for you to let him fall into the kiss. You almost want to, almost break as the cinnamon smell lingers against your nose, and you just know he tastes absolutely delicious.

“Joel, I’m not gonna - fuck - last much longer,” you grit through your teeth as he thrusts hard into that perfect spongy spot as his wiry hairs catch the edge of your puffy clit.

“Then let go,” he growls, digging his fingernails into your captured wrists as he thrusts faster and deeper inside you.

You happily oblige for him, arching your back off the red felt as you slip into oblivion and let the white hot heat slowly drip down your entire spine. It feels like warm honey sliding down his cock as your mind turns to mush, your lips moaning his name as you release everything for him.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, keeping his steady pace of sliding his cock in and out of your pussy that vibrates for him. You indulge in his praise, your body convulsing from the intense orgasm, and then you’re just waiting for him to release his own pleasure.

His body hangs over yours like a sturdy tower, his flexed jaw clenching as he groans to himself, angling your hips higher as he dives inside you, deep strokes that blend into pure need that consumes you whole.

He doesn’t take much longer, uncontrollably thrusting deep inside you as his thick eyebrows knit together, his breathing erratic from the intense fucking. You almost swear the pool table is about to collapse from the two of you igniting like flames together.

You thread your fingers through his dripping curls, and that’s exactly when he falls apart. He thrusts deep inside and throws his beautiful head back. You feel hot ropes of cum douse your insides, and you moan the way it feels like he’s dominating you and claiming you as his own.

He stays inside you for a few seconds after, his hot breath slipping down against your drenched skin like an ocean tide about to take you to your knees. He pulls out from your core, his hips leaving yours, and it feels like loss as his tanned skin leaves yours.

He collapses on his back next to you, trying to catch his breath as the two of you lay splayed on the pool table, indulging in the pleasure the last half hour has been spent between the both of you.

He looks over at you and smiles brightly, a low chuckle leaving his chest. “Jesus Christ, that was amazing,” he beams, his chocolate eyes absolutely sparkling as he gazes at you. It makes your heart clench.

“Yeah, that was… incredible,” you pant, still breathless from the unbelievable sex Joel had given you.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you look at the beautiful man that sits next to you, relishing in all the dark desires Joel keeps giving you. And you’re so scared that you won’t be able to stop before you’re thrown over the edge. Afraid that he will be the death of you. But you let those thoughts flit away from you, only focusing on his next movements.

He pulls himself up off the pool table, sliding his boxers and jeans back on, and then he does something that surprises you. He dips down and hugs you into his strong chest, cradling you against him as he carries you over to the leather couch. He lies back on the soft cushions and pulls you into his body, and then he starts softly stroking your hair, your back, giving you aftercare.

You’ll never get used to this, never get tired of this. This man. He’s so dominate, yet he’s so fucking soft. How can he be both? How can he be so… perfect?

As if he can read your mind, he interrupts your thoughts that tear through your mind wildly. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout there, angel?”

His caramel eyes are so soft that you stutter as words tumble off your lips. “Just… ummm… just how amazing that was,” you breathe uncontrollably.

He chuckles and smiles down at you. “There’s plenty more I can show you, angel. Much more I can give you.”

Your throat closes up at that sentence. He wants to give you more? Suddenly, it feels like he’s offering more, but you don’t ask him. You just stare up at him with wide eyes.

He doesn’t say more on the subject, but you get the feeling this will come up at a later time. Right now you just want to focus on how warm his body is, how good it feels to be wrapped in his strong arms.

You rest your head on his chest and sink lower into him, letting the crackle of the fire send your eyelids fluttering shut, only focusing on Joel’s quiet breaths and his big hands that cradle the back of your head.

You swallow away anymore self doubt for the night, only thinking of Joel Miller, the hottest club owner, the most dominant yet gentle man you’ve ever met. You’re afraid you’re falling hard for him. And that’s exactly what you’re doing, what you’ve been doing ever since you met him.

Shit. You’re so fucked.

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