#THEY TOOK HIM AWAY FROM HIM....................

[chase-prairie]

So you found a dead body in the woods

The worst thing you've worried about, going on hikes, happens. This happens often, in the grand scheme of things. It's always joggers and dogwalkers and hikers. My unlucky day came on October 24, 2022.

So what do you do when you find a dead body?

Look in the other direction and take a breath. Panic wont help you or them.

If you are comfortable, approach them and try to help. If not, it's okay. I was unwilling to approach (they looked real dead) and my 911 operator was 100% totally supportive and okay with that.

Walk a little ways away. There is no reason why you need to keep staring at them. It's okay. Seeing a dead person is really wack!

When you've caught your breath, call 911. My first thought was "Oh god, I don't want to talk to cops." and, good news, it's not cops! 911 responders are different people. They are trained to talk to you, to reassure you, and to help you. They are there for you. They understand you are freaking out. They are kind and patient.

Your new buddy, the 911 person, will help you figure out where you are, exactly. They have access to your location via cell-tower and GPS, but if, like me, you were off-trail (oops), they might need your help navigating to you. I offered to also send a photo, and he provided an email, which he received immediately. I deleted the photo I took right away.

Hang out on the phone with your dispatch friend. They're going to want to keep in touch with you as the paramedics approach. Are you freaking out by chattering too much? Are you freaking out by being dead silent? Both are okay! Apparently, my panic response is to become Super Midwestern Chatty. I was able to make him laugh, which I count as a win.

Holler to the paramedics. My paramedics came deep into the ravine-filled woods, about six men, steering a rolling bed thing. We shouted at each other until they made it to the body. It would have been funny, watching them fumble along, if it wasn't so serious.

Get out of there! The paramedics don't need anything from you. They're busy doing their job. They shooed me back to the trail and to the parking lot. I didn't have to go anywhere near the body.

Meet cops in the parking lot. In my situation, the cops didn't want anything from me. They were just picking their noses in the parking lot while the paramedics did the real work. The cops said thanks for helping, while covering their bodycams, because they're pigs.

Go eat donuts. Christ, that was a lot. Let yourself comedown and get some sugar to kickstart your system.

Feel good that you gave a family closure. Yeah, that sucked. Yeah, your therapist is going to hear about this. Yeah, next time you come to this location, you're going to need a friend with you. But you did the right thing. You'll never know their family, but know that you gave them closure.

[rafesangelita]

♡ when you’re so wet that rafe keeps slipping out..

warnings: making out, heavy petting, dry humping (not really, it’s pretty messy), finger sucking, cockwarming (?), unprotected sex, praise, teasing, rafe being super pussy drunk, belly bulge, size kink, biting, slight dacryphilia

“fuck, look at those hips..” rafe pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two as he dragged you up and down his lap, his large palms enveloping the soft globes of your ass. with shaky hands, you held onto his shoulders as you rocked on top of him, your panties drenched with your arousal. “need’ you, ray..” you whimpered, “please.” rafe pressed a trail of sloppy kisses across your collarbone, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.

he navigated your body like it was the back of his hand, his skillful touch turning you into putty. rafe could feel your heat through his boxers, the soaked fabric making him groan as his hardened cock strained against the material. “i’ll give it you, baby, don’t worry,” he landed a harsh smack to your ass, ripping a yelp from your lips, “wet those fingers for me.” rafe could only imagine how slippery your cunt would feel swallowing him whole, your slick alone already making you glide easily on top of the layers separating you two from full penetration.

giggling softly, rafe watched as your hand disappeared underneath the waistband of your panties, his breath hitching once you held up your fingers, a pool of your sticky succulence glistening underneath the dim light. knowing that he was the one to make you like this made him twitch with need, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he brought your digits to his mouth. with a baited breath, you gasped softly when he took your juices on his tongue, the man in front of you moaning at the taste.

no matter how many times rafe found his head between your thighs, he could never get used to how intoxicating you were, all of his senses and primal instincts honing in on fucking you stupid. without wasting another second, rafe was quick to take himself out of his boxers, a hiss leaving his lips as his length smacked against your tummy. peeling back the lace material of your underwear, he slid them down your legs until he caught sight of the absolute mess between your thighs.

laying you down on your back, rafe brought your knees up to your chest, using one hand to press on your lower abdomen and the other to guide himself between your folds. he was so hard, he had to use his thumb to keep the tip of his cock down so he could enter your needy cunt. he marveled at the size difference, the head of his length stopping just below your belly button. “fuck, i’m gonna wreck you..” he trailed off, toying with your clit before slipping inside, filling you up inch by inch until you were crying out in both pleasure and pain.

with the hand that he had on your stomach, he guided your own over the budge in your tummy, your eyes widening slightly as he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. “you feel that? ‘feel the way my cock fills you up to the fucking brim?” your eyes rolled back at the same time you whined out a ‘f-fuck, yes!’ into your palm. your walls stretched deliciously around the the welcomed intrusion that was his length, your pussy clenching around him for all that he had. the sounds falling from your lips were nothing short of pornographic, the moans and choked sobs only pushing rafe closer to the edge.

he sped up until his skin was slapping against your own, your back arching off of the bed when he slipped out and stroked your clit with the underside of his cock. you shrieked at the sensation, your legs trembling in sensitivity. “too much..” you shook your head, bringing your legs down to wrap around his waist instead. rafe groaned, your slick dripping down his length as he tapped your glossy folds. “you’re so fucking wet, i’m slipping right out,” he grunted, “this is what i do to you, ‘pretty girl?” he leaned down, nipping the sensitive part of your neck.

he kept himself nestled inside of you for a few moments, letting you revel in being so utterly full. you gave him an approving hum, your nails digging into his skin as he bit you softly across your collarbone. starting up his thrusts again, he slipped out as soon as he picked up the pace, the action making him curse under his breath. your eyes watered in frustration, your bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth. rafe saw your tears, the sight shooting straight to his cock. he loved seeing how delirious he made you, his chest filling up with pride as you looked up at him with that fucked-out gaze.

soon after he continued, your high was hitting you in intense waves, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping in two as rafe watched your eyebrows knit together, the added mess between your thighs only making his hips stutter with his own climax painting your walls. “rafe!” you screamed in his ear, his thumb slipping between your lips for you to bite down on while he twitched and convulsed inside of you. a shiver ran down his back as he caged you tightly between his arms, his seed spilling out of you as you both went through the aftershocks of your orgasms.

once you were okay, rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, stroking the side of your face before rolling over to your side. “what’s your ring size?” he sighed, pulling you against his chest. you laughed softly, slightly confused at the words that left his mouth. “why?” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. “are you kidding me? i need to lock this pussy down. like tonight.”

[sayangrafayel]

How would they react waking up to you dancing and singing in the kitchen in your pajamas while making breakfast?

This was a request by anon! I am so happy when I receive requests (you just need to be patient because I am slow af), but here we go!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Xavier, Caleb.

Sylus

Come on. We all know he's the "leaning on the doorframe admiring you from behind" type, 100%.

His heart feels full. The fact that you are in his kitchen. In your pajamas. Singing and dancing. Making breakfast. FOR HIM. AGAIN, IN HIS KITCHEN, makes him all giddy.

"Good morning, Sweetie." "Sylus! You scared me!"

Hums along with you, you love his voice. It doesn't matter if he doesn't hit the right notes. You'd prefer his out of tune singing voice over anything else.

Xavier

Sleepily waddled into the kitchen. He hates waking up without you by his side, but he's happy hearing your singing voice and seeing your little dance.

Leans on the kitchen counter "What are you making? Can I help? I want to help." "No.."

You distract him by asking him to dance along with you.

Anything to steer him away from the oven and the stove. You didn't feel like eating a burnt pancake for breakfast... again... for the fourth time... this week.

Rafayel

Jolted up as soon as he didn't feel you when he reached for your side of the bed. But immediately breathed a sigh of relief when he hears music from the kitchen.

He wants to pretend to sulk but you're just too cute with your bed head and pajamas, so he opts to rest his chin on your shoulder.

"Cutie.. you know I hate it when you get out of bed without waking me up."

Sleepily humming to the song playing, "I love this song."

Zayne

I'm so sorry but he's gonna wake up before you. It's just in his blood. No matter what he'll automatically wake up as soon as the sun hits the room.

Making breakfast together with him in your pajamas, singing and dancing together is still fun! You both cherish this routine, given your busy daily schedules.

No work talk. No nagging. Just a very domestic dynamic, two lovers spending quality time.

"I really love this raspberry jam we made!" "Me too. Maybe we can try making a blueberry one this weekend."

Caleb

OKAY IMAGINE COOKING BREAKFAST AT HIS PLACE. Honestly I think I love his place most.. ok anyways,

You think you woke up before him? No you didn't. He woke up first and stayed in bed to watch you. When you stir awake, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

You got out of bed and start preparing breakfast with your favorite song as your company. Not long after, he joins you in the kitchen and took over.

"How about I continue making the breakfast?" "But I want to make you a breakfast! It's been so long since I cooked for you, Caleb!" "Since when have you ever cooked for me? Plus I'm happy to do this. You can pay me with unlimited affection and your song and dance."

[moonlightwritingf1]

First Time | LN4

❤︎ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando finds out Y/N is a virgin.

❤︎ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

❤︎ word count ━━━━━━━ 5.3k

❤︎ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (f receiving)

Based on this request.

Friday night settled over London with a quiet hush, the city lights flickering in the distance and the occasional sound of cars passing below Y/n’s apartment building. Although the night was still and cool, a charged warmth filled the cozy living room. She sat on the edge of her couch, legs tucked beneath her, trying to focus on the movie playing on the TV screen. But it was impossible. Not when Lando Norris was sitting just inches away from her, his presence like a magnet pulling at every nerve in her body.

It had been two months since they’d officially started dating, and yet, the tension between them still crackled like a live wire. Every glance, every brush of skin, every shared laugh—it all felt charged with something unspoken. Something waiting to burst free.

Lando leaned back into the cushions, one arm casually draped behind her. His fingers traced lazy patterns along the fabric of the couch, dangerously close to brushing against her shoulder. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him. It made her stomach twist in the best possible way.

Lando studied Y/N’s features in silence, his gaze lingering as if he were trying to decipher a puzzle. He noticed the subtle tension around her eyes, the delicate way her lashes fluttered as she blinked, and the gentle parting of her lips with each soft breath. The slight flush on her cheeks hinted at something more—nerves, maybe, or a thought she wasn’t sharing.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, as if afraid to break whatever spell she seemed to be under. “You doing okay? You seem a little distracted.” 

Y/n swallowed. “I’m fine,” she replied quickly. She noticed her own voice sounded defensive. “Just… I was thinking about work. It was a long week.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I know the feeling. Meetings, calls, deadlines… not as glamorous as I used to think a normal nine-to-five would be.” A teasing spark lit his eyes. “At least you’re off the clock now,” he added, his lips curving into a soft smile.

Y/n found herself smiling despite her nerves. There was something about his tone—soft and playful at once—that disarmed her. This was why she had let him in, despite all her reservations. His earnestness, the puppy-like devotion in his gaze. He was so unlike the rumors—so unlike how she once imagined him to be.

She stood up abruptly, the need to put a little distance between them overwhelming her for a moment. “Want some tea? I can put the kettle on,” she offered, forcing herself to sound casual.

A small frown tugged at Lando’s brows, but he quickly covered it with a smile. “Sure, I’d love some.”

While she busied herself in the kitchen, Lando took a moment to look around her apartment. It was modest—comfortable and intimate, with personal touches here and there: books carefully arranged on a shelf, a photograph of her parents near the TV, soft throw blankets on the sofa. He couldn’t help picturing how often she might curl up under those blankets, reading a novel after a long day. He yearned to be there during those quiet moments, to share them with her, to make her life a little less lonely.

The clink of the kettle switching off caught his attention. Y/n returned shortly, two mugs of steaming tea in hand. She handed one to him and then sat back down on the couch, leaving only a cushion’s width of space between them. The delicate scent of chamomile filled the air.

“Thank you,” he murmured, taking a slow sip. “You’re too good to me.”

“Trust me,” she said with a small laugh, “I’m not. You just make it so easy to want to do something for you, seeing as you’re always doing things for me.”

Y/n’s mind wandered briefly to the memory of him sending her all those gifts—flowers, perfumes, expensive clothes that made her squeak in shock when she saw the price tags. She had been torn between excitement and embarrassment, but also a bit of suspicion. There was this question that kept haunting her: Could Lando be serious? She needed more than sweet gestures and pretty words. She needed true depth, true commitment. And if he wasn’t that kind of man, she’d rather know now than be hurt later.

Lando watched her expression shift, as if lost in thought. Ever perceptive, he set his mug down. “Y/n,” he said, voice quieter this time, “I can see it in your eyes that something’s bothering you. Is it us… or something else?”

She offered him a tentative smile. “I’m just… still adjusting to us, I think. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

He couldn’t hide the relief that seemed to soften his features. “I understand,” he said, reaching out and gingerly placing a hand on her knee. “I know I might come on strong, but you have to believe me—I’m in this. No matter what.”

She placed her hand over his. His words chipped away at some of her armor, and she felt a stirring of warmth that had little to do with the tea. “Thank you,” she whispered, letting her thumb brush over his knuckles.

Time felt suspended. The city noises outside turned into nothing but a faint backdrop. In the hush of her living room, the only sounds were their breath, their quiet laughter, and the hum of electricity in the background.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to lighter topics: a fun memory from Lando’s last race weekend in Europe, a comedic mishap at Y/n’s office that had everyone trying to fix a computer glitch that turned out to be user error. The atmosphere grew playful again, but a current of tension remained, rolling through the space between them like a gathering storm.

They inched closer until their shoulders touched. Lando placed a finger beneath her chin, guiding her gaze to meet his. His voice was a whisper in the stillness. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

Y/n’s lips parted, a bashful chuckle escaping her. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” he murmured, leaning in, close enough to brush her ear with his breath, “I’m not.”

And then he kissed her. Gentle at first, almost reverent, as if he were savoring the feel of her lips. She responded softly, her heart fluttering. The warmth of his mouth against hers turned every cell in her body alive.

His hands drifted from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her closer so that no space remained between them. She could feel his heartbeat thrumming against her own. Every time their lips parted, he whispered her name, as though it were a plea and a prayer all at once.

The kiss deepened. His hand went up, tangling in her hair, and a soft moan she couldn’t restrain slipped from her lips. Sensations flooded her: his warmth, his scent—a mix of clean soap and the faintest cologne—his unwavering focus on her and only her.

It wasn’t long before the passion of their kisses caused them both to shift. Lando’s palm skated gently over her waist and up toward her ribs. His lips traveled along her jawline, down her neck, tasting the soft skin there. She clutched at the fabric of his hoodie, eyelids fluttering shut.

The moment felt too perfect, too intense. A fierce desire blossomed in her chest, and she had to remind herself to breathe. She could feel Lando’s heart racing, or maybe it was her own.

His mouth found hers again, deeper, hungrier this time. When she felt his right hand cup her breast over her sweater, an unexpected jolt of panic mingled with excitement. The swirl of emotions—desire, fear, anticipation—was suddenly overwhelming.

She let out a quiet gasp and quickly placed her hand over his, stopping him in the motion. It wasn’t intentional, the way her body stiffened, the way her breath caught in her throat. Instantly, Lando pulled back, eyes wide and full of concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice low and rough from the heat of the moment. “Did…did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Y/n drew in a shaky breath, her cheeks burning, unsure how to explain. She felt her entire face glow with a complex mix of longing and worry. “Lando…” she began, biting her lower lip. She slid her hand into his for a moment, a silent reassurance that she wasn’t rejecting him, but the intensity. “I just…maybe we’re moving too fast right now.”

He nodded, pulling away a little more to give her space. “It’s okay,” he whispered, gently brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek. “We can slow down, I promise. I don’t ever want you to feel rushed.”

She looked down, her hands twisting in her lap. A fresh wave of nerves welled up in her chest—but this time it wasn’t just about caution, it was about her own decision, a burgeoning sense that maybe she was ready to take this leap with him. She’d been holding onto her secret for so long that it almost felt easier to keep the status quo. Yet tonight, something had shifted inside her. She had been convincing herself that her wariness was purely about trust, about not wanting to rush. But if she was honest with herself—truly honest—she wanted him, more than she’d ever wanted anyone.

“There’s… actually something else,” she said in a voice so soft he had to lean in to hear her.

His eyes filled with anxiety. “Talk to me, love. Please.”

She swallowed. “I’m…still a virgin.”

For a moment, the air left the room. Lando stared at her, silently processing, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his face. He exhaled slowly, as though trying to collect his thoughts. “You’re…a virgin?” he repeated quietly, the disbelief evident in his tone. “Wow, I—I’m sorry,” he quickly added, holding up his hands as though in surrender. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, it’s just… I’m surprised.”

She nodded stiffly, her gaze fixed on the space between their knees. “I know we’re the same age. I know how it sounds. You probably had…way more experiences than I ever have.” She tensed, voicing the insecurity that had haunted her for months. “I just, I never met someone I trusted enough. Or maybe I was too busy convincing myself I didn’t need it… didn’t need them.”

Lando, still coming to grips with her revelation, took her hand, weaving his fingers through hers. “Hey,” he said softly, “look at me.”

Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. And what she saw wasn’t judgment or disinterest—it was gentleness, acceptance… and maybe even awe.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, voice trembling with raw honesty. “I know that couldn’t have been easy.” He lifted his free hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “And please don’t feel embarrassed about it.”

She let out a shaky breath, tears threatening to form. “I thought you’d think it’s weird,” she confessed. “You’re so… experienced. You’ve had so many women and—”

“Let’s not talk about them,” he interrupted gently. A slight sadness flickered across his face, as though all the old choices he’d made suddenly seemed trivial or even shameful. “They don’t matter. You do.” He swallowed, trying to steady his voice. “And I don’t want you to feel any pressure from me.”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. “Lando, this is… important. But I—” She paused, feeling that swirl of fear in her stomach again. It was now or never. “I think… I’m ready. To be with you,” she admitted, voice barely audible. It was the first time she had truly spoken the words aloud. The admission sent a flush of heat through her entire body.

His eyes widened at her confession. “You’re… ready?” he echoed, as if carefully testing the meaning of those words. Hesitation and tenderness mingled in his expression. “Are you absolutely sure? I don’t want you to do this if you’re not one hundred percent.”

She swallowed, nodding. “I’m sure,” she whispered. A small laugh escaped her, colored by nervousness. “I can’t believe I just said that. But… yes. I—I want this, with you.”

Relief, joy, and something deeper flooded Lando’s features. He reached for her hands again, clasping them between his own. “We don’t have to rush,” he said, though the excitement in his voice was clear. “Just because you’re ready doesn’t mean—”

“It’s my choice,” she interjected softly. “I trust you. And it’s taken me a while to let myself feel this way, but… the truth is, I’m tired of being scared. Of holding onto my hang-ups. I want to share this with you.”

Lando exhaled, a million emotions running across his face—gratitude, longing, protectiveness. “Y/n,” he said, voice thick. “I promise I’ll be gentle. I promise I’ll take care of you.”

She offered him a trembling smile. “I know you will.”

He stood then, carefully pulling her to her feet. They stood close, the fabric of their clothes brushing against each other. Lando dipped his head so that his eyes were level with hers. He could see the mix of courage and trepidation in her gaze.

“Do you want to move to your room?” he asked, the question laced with quiet anticipation.

She nodded, sliding her hand into his. They walked slowly toward the short hallway that led to her bedroom. Every step brought a new spike of adrenaline and longing. The overhead lights were off, leaving only the faint glow from a small lamp on her bedside table. The walls were painted in calming, muted colors—soft grays and blues. The bed itself was made neatly, a plush duvet folded at the end.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. A whirlwind of thoughts chased each other through her mind: He’s here, he wants me, I want him, I’m ready, no turning back… Yet overshadowing all of it was a sense of quiet determination. She had chosen him. After all the months of hesitation, she was certain.

When they reached the bedside, she paused, turning to face Lando. The uncertainty still flickered in her eyes, but it didn’t come from doubt in him—rather, it came from the enormity of the moment. Her first time. Something she had guarded for so long.

He noticed. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders and bent to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “We’ll go slow,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath tickling her skin.

She nodded, inhaling deeply. “Slow,” she repeated, as if the word itself were a grounding tether.

Carefully, they leaned in for another kiss. This one was warm and tentative, a promise rather than an urgent demand. Lando’s hands drifted to her waist, and Y/n reciprocated, sliding her arms around his neck. The heat between them was more controlled now, more intentional, and yet somehow even more intense. She felt safe—reassured by the unspoken vow in every gentle touch.

After a while, their kisses grew deeper, more confident. He guided her backward until her legs met the edge of the bed. They sank down together, lips never losing contact. Soft gasps and hushed whispers began weaving an intimate tapestry of sound around them. Even the hum of passing cars seemed distant, as though the outside world had fallen away and left them in a private universe.

The warmth of their kisses lingered, slow and deliberate, as Lando hovered above her on the bed. His lips moved from her mouth to her jawline, trailing soft, featherlight kisses down the column of her neck. Every touch was a promise, every sigh a silent reassurance. Y/n’s breath hitched when his tongue flicked against her pulse point, sending shivers cascading down her spine. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, her fingers trembling with anticipation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and rough with desire. His lips continued their journey downward, skimming over her collarbone before settling at the hollow of her throat. He paused for a moment, his breath warm against her flushed skin, and then gently tugged at the hem of her sweater.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, his eyes locking onto hers, dark with arousal but still filled with tenderness.

She nodded, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s hands slid beneath the fabric, his fingertips brushing against her waist as he slowly lifted the sweater over her head. The cool air kissed her skin, and she shivered—not from the temperature, but from the way he looked at her. His gaze was reverent, almost worshipful, as he took in the sight of her bare torso. His eyes lingered on the curve of her breasts, encased in delicate lace, and a soft groan escaped his lips.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, his hands already moving to cup her through her bra. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from her. She arched into his touch, her body betraying how much she craved him.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to the slope of her breast, just above the edge of the lace. His kisses were slow and exploratory, each one sending jolts of pleasure radiating through her. When his fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra, she reached behind her to help him, her hands shaking slightly. The bra fell away, and his breath caught as he took her in completely.

“Y/n…” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “You’re stunning.”

His hands caressed her breasts, his palms sliding over the soft flesh before his mouth followed. He captured one nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak while his hand teased the other. Y/n gasped, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure coursed through her. Her moans spilled freely now, no longer restrained, and each one seemed to spur him on. 

“L-Lando,” she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders. “That feels… so good.”

He responded by sinking his teeth gently into her nipple, eliciting a sharp cry from her. His hands squeezed her breasts together, his lips moving back and forth between them, leaving her a trembling, moaning mess beneath him. He worshipped her like this, his touch and his words making her feel cherished, adored.

“Lando,” she whimpered, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “Please…”

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her skin. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Please what, love?” he teased, his fingers pinching her nipples lightly, making her gasp again.

She shook her head, unable to form the words. He laughed softly, kissing her lips briefly before sitting back on his heels. His hands drifted to the waistband of her leggings, his thumbs hooking under the elastic. “Can I take these off too?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with anticipation.

She nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. But… take your top off too.”

His grin was irresistible as he tugged his hoodie over his head, revealing the toned planes of his chest. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. He was breathtakingly handsome, his muscles defined but not overly bulky, his skin smooth and warm.

He returned to her, his hands sliding her leggings down her legs slowly, peeling the fabric away inch by inch. She lifted her hips to help him, her heart pounding as she lay before him in nothing but her underwear. His gaze lingered on her, heat and adoration burning in his eyes.

“God, you’re stunning,” he said, his voice rough with want. He knelt between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs. “Are you sure about this? We can stop anytime.”

She nodded, her voice steadier than she expected. “I’m sure.”

Lando leaned down, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. She gasped, her hands gripping the sheets as his lips traveled higher, closer to the apex of her thighs. He nuzzled the thin fabric of her underwear, his breath hot against her already soaked core.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. He kissed her through the fabric, dragging his tongue over her clit in a slow, teasing motion. She cried out, her hips lifting instinctively toward him.

“Lando!” she gasped, her thighs trembling as he continued to tease her, his lips and tongue driving her wild. He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

“Patience, baby,” he purred, his hands sliding her underwear down her legs. He tossed them aside, settling back between her thighs. For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression reverent. “Fuck, Y/N. You have such a pretty pussy.”

Her face burned, but before she could say anything, his tongue was on her, lapping at her folds with long, slow strokes. She moaned loudly, her head falling back against the pillows as pleasure shot through her.

Lando devoured her like a man starved, his tongue circling her clit, dipping inside her, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from her body. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her hands fisting the sheets as she writhed beneath him.

“Oh my God, Lando,” she whimpered, her thighs shaking. “That feels so good…”

He groaned against her, the vibrations making her cry out. He slipped a finger inside her, curling it just right against her walls as his tongue continued its relentless assault. She swore she saw stars, her entire body tensing as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter within her. Just when she thought she might scream, he pulled back, his lips glistening and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Do you really want this?” he asked, his voice ragged. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

She nodded, her eyes glazed with need. “Yes, I’m ready. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

He nodded, his breath hitching as he reached for the waistband of his trousers. In one swift motion, he stripped them off, along with his boxers, leaving himself completely bare. Y/N’s eyes widened as she took him in—hard and flushed, his length straining toward her.

He settled between her legs, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “Tell me if it hurts.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with affection for him. “Okay,” she whispered.

He pressed forward slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable—and mixed with the pain was an overwhelming sense of closeness, of being connected to him in the most intimate way possible.

“You’re incredible,” he breathed, staying still to give her time. “How do you feel?”

“Full,” she admitted with a shaky laugh. “But… good. Really good.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her softly. “You’re doing so well, love,” he murmured against her lips. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

Lando began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate thrusts. Each glide of his length inside her was met with a soft gasp from Y/n, her body still adjusting to the unfamiliar fullness. He kept his pace gentle, rhythmic, almost teasing, as if he wanted to savor every second of this moment with her. His eyes never left hers, searching for any sign of discomfort—but all he found was desire, trust, and a growing need.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint. “So fucking perfect.”

She whimpered in response, her hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest, where she could feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. Her own heart raced in tandem, her breath coming in shallow bursts as arousal coiled tighter and tighter in her core. She arched instinctively, her hips rising to meet his next thrust, and Lando groaned low in his throat at the sensation.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling. “It’s… it’s so much.”

He paused, concern flickering across his face. “Too much?” he asked, his tone laced with worry. “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head quickly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “No… no, don’t stop. It’s just… overwhelming. In a good way.” Her fingers traced the muscles of his chest, marveling at the way they flexed with every movement. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

The relief in his expression was palpable. He leaned down to kiss her again, his lips slow and sweet, before whispering against her mouth, “Then let me show you how good it can be.”

His thrusts grew slightly firmer, the rhythm steady but unhurried. Y/n’s moans grew louder, each one sending a jolt of pleasure straight to Lando’s cock. He ground into her deeper with every push, angling his hips so that he brushed against a spot inside her that made her gasp and clutch at him desperately.

“There…” she whimpered, her nails lightly scratching his back. “Right there, Lando… please…”

A groan rumbled in his chest as he obeyed, focusing on that spot with relentless precision. Her reactions were intoxicating—every sigh, every shiver, every desperate plea only fueled his own need. But he refused to rush, determined to make this first time unforgettable for her.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes dark with adoration. “Watching you like this… hearing you… it’s driving me insane.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she met his gaze with equal intensity, her eyes clouded with passion and something deeper—something that made his chest ache with emotion.

“Touch me,” she begged softly, her hand sliding down to guide his. “Please…”

Without hesitation, Lando reached between them, his fingers finding her swollen clit with practiced ease. He circled the sensitive nub gently, watching as her entire body jerked in response. Her moans turned into breathless cries, her hips rocking against his hand and his cock in a frenzied rhythm.

“Fuck, Lando—oh god—” she gasped, her back arching off the bed. “I’m… I’m close…”

“Let go, love,” he urged, his voice thick with passion. “Come for me.”

The combination of his hand and his cock pushed her over the edge. She cried out his name as waves of pleasure crashed over her, her inner walls clamping down around him in a vice-like grip. Lando groaned loudly, his thrusts faltering as her climax overwhelmed him. He clenched his jaw, fighting to hold on just a little longer—to give her every last drop of pleasure she deserved.

When her tremors finally subsided, she looked up at him with dazed, unfocused eyes. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. She was utterly breathtaking.

Still buried deep inside her, Lando kissed her again, his lips tender and reverent. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Absolutely fucking incredible.”

Y/n smiled shyly, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulled him closer. “Don’t stop,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Not yet…”

He nodded, his own arousal still burning hot and urgent, but tempered now by the reverence he felt for her. He resumed his slow, deep thrusts, each one deliberate, each one meant to draw out every ounce of pleasure she could take. Her soft moans filled the room, a melody that made his chest ache with something deeper than desire—something tender, something sacred.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, his voice rough but laced with adoration. His hands cradled her hips as though she were fragile, precious. “Anything, love… just tell me.”

Her fingers brushed through his hair, her touch featherlight yet electric. “You,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Just you.”

Those two words shattered him. Not in the way of losing control, but in the way of surrender—to her, to this moment, to the depth of what they were sharing. He pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync. His pace quickened, not out of urgency, but out of a need to give her everything he had, to make her feel how much she meant to him.

Her body arched beneath him, her moans growing louder, more desperate. Her hands roamed over his back, not clawing, but caressing, as if she wanted to memorize every inch of him. She clung to him, not out of desperation, but out of a need to be as close as possible, to erase any space between them.

“Y/n…” His voice was strained, but it wasn’t just from the physical strain. It was from the weight of what he felt for her, the intensity of it threatening to spill over. “I’m not gonna last much longer…”

She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as another wave of pleasure began to crest. “Neither—“ she managed, her voice breaking. “Oh god, Lando—“

He felt her tighten around him again, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her cry was raw, unfiltered, and it echoed through the room, a sound that would forever be etched into his memory. Her nails dug into his skin, not to hurt, but to anchor herself as she rode out the blissful aftershocks.

That was all it took for him. With a final, shuddering thrust, he spilled himself inside her, his release tearing through him with a force that left him breathless. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his ragged breaths hot against her skin as he whispered her name over and over, like a prayer, like a vow.

For several long moments, neither of them moved. Their bodies remained tangled together, sweat-slicked and spent, but closer than they’d ever been. Gradually, the haze of pleasure began to fade, replaced by a bone-deep satisfaction and an overwhelming sense of closeness that went beyond the physical.

Lando was the first to stir, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone before pulling back to look at her. His heart swelled at the sight of her—flushed, disheveled, and utterly spent, but smiling up at him with such tenderness that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice husky but filled with genuine concern. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin.

She laughed quietly, the sound warm and content. Her fingers trailed along his jawline, tracing the curve of his face as though committing it to memory. “Like I just discovered heaven,” she admitted, her smile widening. “And you?”

He grinned, leaning down to capture her lips in a lingering kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes held hers, dark and full of emotion. “Like the luckiest man alive,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity. “Because I get to call you mine.”

Her smile softened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, her touch achingly gentle. “You already had me,” she whispered. “Long before tonight.”

His throat tightened, and he kissed her again, slower this time, pouring every unspoken word into it. When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet stillness of the room.

“I love you,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. They weren’t planned, but they were true—so true it hurt.

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she just stared at him, her eyes wide and searching. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face, brighter than anything he’d ever seen. “I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice steady despite the tears pooling in her eyes.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as though he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, with her head resting on his chest and her heartbeat echoing his own, he knew—this was where he belonged. With her. Always.

[littlemisssilvermoon]

Reader is implied to like feminine things, though gender identity is kept ambiguous.

Damian was a good brother. That’s what he always told himself. He was a good brother, a good son. He was cold, rude, and erudite, but he was able and willing to help anyone who needed it.

When he arrived at Wayne manor, Bruce told him the general run down of why you were to be avoided when it came to anything vigilante related. You were still pure, a year younger than Damian but without any of the pain. The only one in the Wayne manor that could have a shot at becoming a normal person. Damian envied that, but kept it to himself. His anger often boiled to the top, drops of green venom dripping from his mouth when you tried to annoy him into spending time with you.

Your complaints of him ignoring you was scalding water on his already raw nerves. Why would you complain about not being the center of attention for five damn seconds? He would trade anything for the life you had. A life where you could lay around after school and never worry about a rogue bullet lodging itself in your arm, or a poisonous plant releasing psychedelic spores into an open wound.

You could and would never join the Robins. You were weak; it was in your blood. Always sickly, always the pacifist. You wouldn't survive a day in his life. And you weren't living his life; you were living his dream.

But apparently the effort the family was putting in wasn’t enough.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed that the manor felt… off about two weeks before the fight with Joker. He couldn’t trace it for the life of him at first. When he realized by the second week that he hadn’t spoken to you in days, or really seen you around the manor at all, he wrote off the worms writhing in his stomach. You must’ve been busy with a class assignment and had little time to annoy him with your demands of time together.

After the fight, however, he was a war of a thousand emotions. How dare you leave them? Why would you turn away an easy life fat on nepotism for a group of murderers, con men, the dredges of Gotham’s society?

Were you truly that desperate to be acknowledged that you’d turn your back on the family who did everything for you? He hopes you’re happy there, since you were clearly so upset at not being given attention.

Over time, however, things start to change. A few days after Jason made a full recovery, Damian looked at one of the drones Tim managed to get a chunk of code from. It took a lot of trial and error, and the development of an entirely new program to grab some of the code before it bricked itself, and enough all nighters and energy drinks that any doctor would faint, but it was managed. The code was dense, optimized to work with the least bloat possible, well tagged variables, and even a handful of comments in the code.

//Buy Bane those Boston Donuts from the donut shop on 5th //Why does this code need to be here so it doesn’t auto brick itself. What is in the code protecting it from the wrath of God //Louie likes Texas barbecue ribs. Possible treat? //DO NOT FEED THEM WHOLE RIBS. COOKED BONES BAD. //SINCE WHEN WAS THIS VARIABLE A STRING??? IT WAS AN INT 5 LINES AGO //Help the hopeless lesbians get together. //Would Harley and Ivy dating make Harley my mom or Ivy my big sister? Both???

His eyes skimmed the retrieved comments, laughing at a few. It seems that Bane, Poison Ivy, and Harley Quinn were the most common subjects of the notes, though a few mentioning the Iceberg lounge asking what non-alchoholic drink you’d like added, or Riddler offering you another puzzle to keep your mind active. Even Joker was mentioned, though it seemed mostly transactional.

It was strange seeing you in this light. You seemed to have a lot of spice in you, but a heart made of gold. You were definitely surprised whenever one othe villains offered to take you on some trip to amusement parks, regular parks, even just willingly watching anime with you. It was odd to see. Surely someone at the house did those things with you? He didn’t but he was extremely busy with school and vigilantism. Jason was legally dead, so surely he had all the time in the world.

“How was I supposed to relate to them? They’re what, 12 and into shit like that one with the cat looking dog thing and the robot girl. I have shit to do. Y’know, managing Crime Alley?”

Well, Dick had come over to hang out plenty of times. Surely he’d spent at least a few hours with you every now and then? “I have an entire team and criminals to manage of in another city, Damian. I don’t have as much time as you think to do whatever it was with them they’d wanted to do”

Maybe Tim? “I have college and stuff, Damian. And I don’t have the energy to put into hanging around them. I’d probably just be sleeping most of the time.

Bruce? “I have to manage you, Gotham, and the Justice League, Damian. I barely have time for myself.”

… Alfred? “I tried, Master Damian. However I’m constantly pulled thin between so many tasks. Besides, all you have is school most days, and you’ve had summer vacations and weekends. Shouldn’t you’ve had plenty of time to spend with your younger sibling?”

… He did have the most time outside of vigilantism. And it took him a week to realize you were missing.

You had to realize that they were under extreme stress though, right?He couldn’t spend all his free time with you. He had his own friends to hang out with. How were you two even supposed to relate?

One day at dinner, the thoughts were thrashing in his head, slamming against soft tissue and tearing through brain matter. He aimlessly poked at the food on his plate.

“You alright, replacement?” Jason asked, pausing in his extremely rare dinners with everyone else. Alfred had promised him a tray of fudge to take home this time around, and nobody made fudge quite as good as he did.

“… They were gone for two weeks.”

Everyone stopped eating as he continued.

“Two weeks. Two full weeks before they showed up at that fight. Did anyone here even know? I only noticed after a week and assumed they were just holed up in their room with a class assignment or something.” He was rambling. Everyone was quiet and looking at each other. How did it manage to slip past everyone? They were detectives, for Christ’s sake.

They were your family.

—

Dinner ended with guilt wrapping around their throats and pulling.

Eventually, all of them found themselves in your room. It had been emptied, but showed no signs of struggle. All the small items, the comforter, and your clothes were gone. But what was taken left something behind. Copies of photos of you winning state level competitions, letters requesting your attendance at seminars, photos of gold medals and blue ribbons spread across the floor. Most damning of all was the most recent photo. A certificate by some big time tech company being handed to you. Edward Nashton stood behind you, a firm, reassuring hand on your shoulder.

When had this happened? They never remembered hearing of something like this. A news clipping on the back told them it was maybe a week before you left.

“The Wayne prodigy stated that their family had more important things to see to than such an occasion. I can’t imagine something more important that either of my kids being recognized by a multi-million dollar tech company! I remember postponing an anniversary with my husband to celebrate our child placing second in the science fair. But I guess that’s just the Waynes for you!”

That’s just the Waynes to you.

But it’s ok. He can make it better. He can be a good big brother. He can spend time watching anime with you and decorating your room with lace and fairy lights and go makeup shopping with you. You just need to come home. Now.

---------------- Taglist! Ask to be added!

@jjsmeowthie , @jsprien213 , @ladyrosemone

[luvether]

FABRICS OF BATH SALTS & MILQUETOAST

summary, establishing and sharing casual intimacy and innocence with him and relishing in each other’s presence.

phainon x gn!reader. fluff + sensual (?) content, tender touching + physical touch. really intimate. sweet devotion. unlabeled relationship. innocent love at its finest. minor world-building for Grove of Epiphany and its academias. self-indulgent asf, enjoy ‪‪❤︎‬ [3.6k wc]

Thinking about Phainon and his acts of love for you.

You’ve known the pale-haired hero enough to learn that there’s a fabric over his cordial mannerisms. You dare not prod him of his past nor his hometown but even someone like you—a Helkolithist scholar from the Grove, you knew something was on his mind when he starts to trace a finger absentmindedly through the lines of your palm, a delicate touch that holds a crown of affection and deep satiated yearning. Maybe it’s because you are proficient with your studies of mental acuities that you manage to find a pattern of behavior within the hero, piquing your interest.

So it also came as a surprise to you when Lord Phainon took an interest in you the first time around, to the point of seeking such comfort in you despite the many rumours surrounding the people of the Grove—narcissistic, haughty, ascetics, exclusionist and many more. Even with your incessant excuses the first few times you’ve met briefly, Phainon finds every loophole in your pretexts to spend time with you.

When you told him you were busy translating slates for your academia, he would nod his head—oh, but the hero will not leave. He would make his way across your office and settle on one of your guest sofas, ensconced by reed-filled pillows and wool blankets he would pick up a random scroll from your floor and peruse its text in silence.

You spare him a look. “I was under the impression my Lord dislikes convoluted knick knacks.”

Those sea-deep eyes of his drag over to you, blinking. “Convoluted knick knacks, you say?”

Your finger is tracing the carved characters on the stone. “Those scrolls on the floor originate from the Lothophagist school, it's of no use to me.”

“Why are there so many in your office?”

“...My office was said to be an apothecary before I claimed it.” A brief seconds of silence. “I thought of airing the room when I got it, but judging from our current predicament—I thought those scrolls will be useful one day, in case someone gets hurt, at least there’s still notes of medicines somewhere in here.”

Your eyes remain on the slate in your hand, but Phainon’s gaze on your person is heavy—it did not feel uncomfortable, but you cannot help the burn on your cheeks knowing he was looking at you.

“You’re very kind.” Those were the words that left his mouth, and it jolts you because this was the first time someone has called you as such.

You take your stare off the stone and onto those blue eyes, dissecting his expression to find even a hint of fallacy, even a bare of falseness with his words but you found none.

Lord Phainon was genuine with his declaration, what decorated his face was the softest tips of upturned lips and wide honesty encased in those pupils.

Your fingers falter, oh how your heart burned beneath that ocean eyes of his.

Maybe it began that day, that you allowed Phainon to hang around you if he so pleases. And maybe he noticed your change in behavior and your lessening aloofness but he does not question nor tease you of it. Even if he comes by from time to time to visit the Grove, you're grateful that he’s not overbearing with his frankness. You’ve noticed that about him, the way he teeters between being approachable and reserved out of respect. He does not bother you when he sees you immersed in something and he does not pull you away from your work, preferring to bask in the atmosphere you created. He’s like a guest in your own quiet garden, but you had long promoted him to be a companion, someone that was welcomed into your bubble at any time of the day so long as the dawn Kephale carries.

That’s when you developed an art of noticing with him,

The length of his eyelashes, the arch of his eyelids, soft white bangs that hang over his eyes, the gentle exhales he lets out when he relaxes himself on your sofa, the reflection of the ornaments on his attire and the goldeness of his sun-shaped tattoo that painted the left side of his neck, stretching down to the prominence of his collarbone.

You press your lips against your knuckles, after a while Phainon feels the heavyweight of your stare on him.

He smiles at you, “is something on my face?”

You lowered your hands, leaned back against your seat. “You’re restless.”

Phainon seems surprised at your statement. “Why do you say so?”

“Since you’ve arrived you have not stopped moving.” you say. “Your leg wouldn't stop bouncing when you’re seated and you seem…more agitated than usual?”

The hero does nothing but chuckle heartily. “It seems like I've finally caught the attention of the infamous Helkolithist sage, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

You prayed that your cheeks were not noticeable to him, heated from his teasings. Even if he noticed, you were immediate with your response. You stand from behind your desk, picking up the scarf resting behind your chair, “Please speak up when you feel uneasy next time.”

Phainon stands up when he sees you walking to the door.

Everytime you feel like you achieved something with him, the hero surprises you again and again, especially when the next thing you felt was his very presence from behind. Phainon’s gloved hand comes to gently circle around your wrist, hindering your approach towards your door.

You turn to him and it's the first time you see his face fall in a worried frown. “Where are you going, did I perhaps irate you with my teases?”

Despite the smooth glove that serves as a barrier between your hands, it does not stop Phainon from tracing his bare fingertips from your wrist to the center of your open palm. You don’t know what he wanted to achieve with this, maybe it was to console you? Or console himself? But his actions drive your heart to pound in rhythms in your chest.

You doubt he’s cheeky enough to intentionally fluster you like this. He's playful but not presumptuous, and you can slowly feel your composure chip away at such a simple action.

It's just a mere touch of comfort, don't get ahead of yourself. Your mind sterns you so. When you find your bearings, you reach out to him, this is your first time touching him too.

Phainon’s eyes flicker and your eyes soften, crushed under a mortar and pestle. “No you did not anger me in any way, Lord.”

His skin is cold under your touch, your fingertips drawing a soothing pattern on the ungloved parts of his hand—which were his fingers, you rub them in your open palm softly. “Do you want to take a stroll with me? I feel a little stuffy after reading a handful of case studies.”

You see the way he perks up at your request, but he tries to hide his excitement. He cambers his head, a slight tilt to show puzzlement and you find it adorable.

“Are you certain?”

You tilt your head up in his direction. “Of course, I was the one who invited you. Come now, Lord Phainon, if we are fast enough the Academia’s parlor is giving away free coffees to both students and staff.”

When you dare spare a look over your shoulder you briefly catch his smile—a smile that seems to have shaved a part of the sun—because the upward tilt of his lips is so radiant and beautiful.

“If we missed the free coffee, will you throw me out of your office?” he grins playfully.

“Depending on how you pace yourself, I’ll be the judge of it.”

You wrestle the door handle and exit your office with a good-spirited Phainon trailing behind you. Completely unaware of your wavering stare and flushed tipped ears and cheeks.

It did not take long for the two of you to drop the formal salutations between one another. He stopped being Lord Phainon and hero to you, instead he was just Phainon—even if it was not his birth-given name, it was still a name he addresses himself with, a name that you loved to enunciate and shape vowels of. And to him, you stopped being the Helkolithist sage or the strict lecturer from the Grove. Rumours and nicknames that once plagued your many titles completely vanished with him and Phainon found mild joy in taste-testing your name in his lips. Every chance he gets, he calls you by your name and you’re a sudden victim to such a simple folly, turning every time you hear him say your name despite the situation you’re in, despite how hushed or quiet he calls you.

Whether or not your other colleagues noticed it, whether or not those avid looks Anaxagoras gives you, you ignored it because you secretly liked the way he addresses you; romantic intentions aside, he spoke of your name with such gentleness and ease, without intentions and tomfoolery, without the motive to manipulate information from you and without the definition to ask you of anything. Phainon called out to you simply because he likes to, he says your name without connecting it to formality upon your status.

He tastes the name on his tongue and calls you with a certain crave that is far too different from others.

With the formula of names already established, the next that came with your unlabelled relationship with Phainon were the touches. Months have passed by now, Phainon enters and exits your office at his own leisure, you became his companion for his conversations, someone that he can confide in with topics that he cannot bring up with Lady Aglaea, his teacher Tribbie, Miss Castorice or even his rival and brother-in-arms Mydeimos—not that the crown prince of Kremnos is even elated to share a conversation with him.

You were that person to him, his person that he comes to when he needs a hint of comfort at times where he finds himself at a loss.

Even if Phainon finds himself in one of his quiet moods of contemplation and wants nothing but solitude, he knows that the moment he enters your office he will be indulged by the quiet atmosphere you created—smelling that hint of herbs from your bookcases, seeing you hunched over your desk too concentrated in your texts to converse—not that he minded, because you would always look up when he enters, nodding your head in acknowledgement or look at him whenever he wants anything. He is grateful you don’t pester him for answers, but today is different.

Phainon is flooded with the thought of holding you.

He excuses it for his loneliness and feeling the heavy burden of the Deliverer on his shoulders—he wants to engulf you in his arms, to shape you in his embrace and reminisce in such a presence. So he stands, uncharacteristically so, his motive? to approach you now that your back is turned to him. You’re not sitting down at your desk, Phainon would sometimes follow you with his eyes as you buzz from the seat, to the bookcases, your seat then back to the bookcases—on extremely rare occasions, you would make your way to your window and tug the curtains open to aerate the office.

You were standing in front of a bookcase filled with case studies or imageries of tendons and ligaments, you told him a week ago you were working on studying about mesomorphic body habitus especially for the combatant individuals who will be in need to fight titankins around the cities, Phainon could feel nothing but a swell of pride by your passion to help the people despite your position. He hears you murmur something out, unaware of his approach but he makes sure he does not startle you.

He sees you try to reach for something from the upper shelves, so to ease you he takes the scroll that barely grazes your fingers.

The atmosphere is suddenly drenched with undeniable tension.

You spin to face him and Phainon has you caged between his arms, gripping the rough texture of the shelves beneath his hands.

“Phainon?” your voice holds question and you see his face folding in once again, his brows furrowed and lips pursed, as if he’s battling with inner conflict.

You’re not a scholar that specializes in remedies or medicines, despite the many boxes of scrolls regarding health in your office you cannot seem to wrap your mind about it, but deep down you craved to help Phainon—a man who battles titans as his duty and to help people in need—it must've been really hard on him to handle such a task all on his own, so you lift a palm and cup his cheek with it, hoping to ease his worries a bit even if it’s just a simple touch of a flattened palm on his face.

You should not jump to conjectures regarding his feelings, but when Phainon leans into your touch with fervor you cannot help but let your mind wander. You were both quiet and somehow you were unaware that he had discarded his gloves somewhere on the couch mere minutes ago until you felt his skin on yours, a searing feeling washes over you and he presses his hand to the back of yours as if to bury his face into the touch you gave him willingly, as if he’s calling your palm his homage.

He’s scared to let you go, and at this point Phainon has backed you against the bookcases fully, you feel the shelves on your back and his chest on your front and he leans down with his arms around your waist pulling you impossibly closer, so close and so fulfilling—you are finally in each other’s embraces and the boundary of that is thinning at the seams. You don’t reject his touch and find your arms wrapped around his shoulders, the softness of his white hair on your cheek and you inhale, the scent of the sun parades with him in every direction his future follows and you’re lucky enough to be a bare witness of his simple glory, his humanistic craves.

Phainon’s affections for you are intentional, it always was. From the moment you first met to your current relationship, he's been the barest with his manners, he has always been direct with your companionship and quality time you both spent together between the four corners of your office in the Grove of Epiphany. It was never prophesied by his fate to be this close with you but the humanity within him wishes to be more selfish, especially when it comes to you.

So when Phainon heard that you and a selective other scholars were ambushed by Nikador’s titankin, he finds his heart seizing. He has always been like this, fragile in the heart, maybe that’s why despite her usual coldness Aglaea tries to soften her tone when she announces it to the rest of the Chrysos heirs. Phainon could feel the quick look overs from his companions, Tribbie and Castorice lingering longer in concern for him.

He truly wears his heart in his sleeves, Mydei would comment when Phainon would turn away and leave the chamber with impatience. Despite his snides, the prince would still tag along and give him company.

Maybe his wishes for your safety have been answered, because when both Phainon and Mydei reach the destination of the clinic in Okhema City, you were the one kneeling down, clumsily wrapping your colleagues’ scraped knees to the best of your abilities. Phainon’s chest is heaving, having to run down Marmoreal Palace with such a chaotic mind truly exhausted him. He finds himself leaning against the frame on the open door before his ears are laid bare to Mydeimos’ click of a tongue, irritated. ”I told you to calm down, didn't I? The party wasn’t severely injured, they had Kremnoan people assisting them.”

“I…apologise.” Phainon heaves. “For showing such a side of me.” He addresses the people in the room, most of them were your affected party and a medic or two. The room seizes its pause, words of reassurance for the nameless delivery come fluttering into his ears and Phainon physically relaxes. He spares a look at Mydei, only to find him already looking. His honey eyes remain stoney, however he tips his chin in your direction and Phainon smiles at the gesture.

Everyone goes back to their own business but Phainon’s heart remains erratic with both the fear and the adrenaline.

He feels someone in front of him and his eyes open, landing on you.

Your fingers inch towards him, fixing his collar and the front of his attire. “It’s crooked.” you tell him and his blue eyes gentle like the psalm.

“I came here as fast as I can.” he breathes out. “I thought—” he stumbled on his own words. “You, I—”

“I made you worried, didn't I?” Your brows are pinched.

Phainon reaches out to touch your hand, the one lingering by his collar fabric and intertwining his fingers with the back of your hand. He lifts your palm to his face, his breath on your wrist as he feels your warm pulse on his lips.

“I’m just glad you’re safe.”

You cannot help the muddled fluster from painting your cheeks. “Phainon, we are…” we are in public, you wanted to tell him. But then your thoughts stumble, his intentions were always clear with you. He’s well-aware you two are under public gaze and yet he still showed such fondness for you.

It’s his public declaration of love.

You flinch when you hear Mydei’s heavy sigh. “Oi, Deliverer. I talked with the medics already, the situation here has been handled. I'll report back to Aglaea so get out of here.” His stare drags over to you, “Both of you.”

You would’ve turned and apologized to the prince if it weren’t for Phainon interlacing your fingers together and slipping out the clinic. Okhema’s dawn bathes your figure in gold and you tighten your hold on his—Phainon squeezes your palm as a response.

The pale-haired man turns to a secluded corner and immediately gathers you into his embrace. You chuckle at his clinginess, your fingers reaching out to tangle on the hairs behind his neck.

“Phainon,” You muse. “I’m okay.”

“I miss you.” Phainon’s voice is on your neck. “I’ve missed you so much I wanted to visit you, it’s been a week since I’ve seen you and now—I thought you were hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” You pull him closer. “I was the one that proposed this research expedition. I suppose I failed to take into account the dangers of visiting Janusopolis at this time. Because of me, my colleagues were injured.”

He has your face on his palms, blue eyes enough for you to sink into its depths like an anchor. “It’s not your fault.”

You closed your eyes. “I know.”

You cannot help the heat on your cheeks when Phainon pulls you into another hug, you relish in his golden presence. It has been a habit of his to start tracing your skin with his pining hands. When he pulls away, his thumbs brush over the pillows of your cheeks before travelling towards the arch of your eyelids, lingering slowly to the curvature of your lips then down the base of your neck. You nuzzle into his wrist when you find his hands on your head, rubbing through the roots of your tendrils. That’s when he speaks up, a bottled sort of rasp leaving between his lips.

He suggested that you stay with him in the city for a few more days, and you don’t see any reason to reject his offer. When the day grows gradually, you find yourself inside of a private room with Phainon—after the whole ambush your attire is caked with gravel and grime and you want nothing more than to take a long bath and rid yourself of the dirt.

“The water is warm now.” Phainon enters the room. “I placed a basket beside the pool with the oils. Just let me know if there’s anything else you need.” You cannot help but smile at his accommodations.

You see him freeze, blue eyes blinking at you.

You tilt your head. “Is something on my face?”

“You smiled.” He simply says. “I don’t think I ever saw you smile before.”

He hasn't? You pondered a bit, frowning. You could've sworn you smiled at him before.

Phainon calls out your name.

You turn to look at him, and his cheeks are flushed and rosy. He’s blushing red.

It did not take long for him to eat up the remainder of the gaps between the two of you, dissecting his expression—he looked like a mess. His eyes held a certain twinkle, his lips were pursed and his cheeks were ruddy.

Smitten beholds his eyes, then he holds your face again so delicately.

“Please, do it again.” Phainon asked you. “For me? You’re beautiful when you smile.”

His requests make your cheeks burn, but nonetheless you smile at him again, and again and again. Because at this very moment, you knew that Phainon—once just an imperfectly perfect hero to Okhema—was now someone who cannot stop being on your mind, his every tone and texture, every dip and curve of him has woven into your soul and you breathed him.

He was your very own warm sun encased in flesh and bones.

And you knew that Phainon felt the same way, for he had finally leaned down and pressed his tenacious lips against your own. Finally, finally expressing the fact that you too plagued his mind and he loved you so, so much with every waking fiber of his being.

[aerofbreath]

Actually writing something based off of this post. Y'all really seemed to like it and I got scared LOLOL

(How it will probably go (written poorly written cause it's almost 7AM and I haven't slept yet) . Also I have no idea what I'm doing. This will be rewritten better in a fic maybe.)

Jason sighed as he made his way into Gotham University's gym. It was the middle of the day and Jason was there at a Startup Event posing as a guy who was interested in what people had to offer. He had only had maybe a total of four hours of sleep since he had patrol the night before. Granted, this wouldn't have affected him as much if he was more mentally prepared to be awake. The only reason why he's out here was because Bruce had woken him up an hour ago to tell him a little last minute about what he needed to do today. Originally, the plan was to do absolutely nothing. But now he has to investigate a guy that Bruce had his eye on as of lately.

The person he's looking for is a man named Danny Nightingale. Apparently he's been in Gotham for a couple years and only recently started making a mess of things. How it went under Bruce's nose is beyond him considering how freaked out Bruce was once he did find out.

Apparently, the guy has been making life changing machines. Little mechanical bees have been flying around Gotham really just sucking up all the pollution in the air and just depositing it somewhere. According to the media, they go back to some headquarters and into a bee hive looking structure to deposit all the pollution and sludge. From the photos shown, it's actually pretty impressive. Some guy actually making a change around here.

For Bruce- no. For Batman, this is just highly suspicious. Why would some guy make these positive life changing machines? For the better? No. No genius with the power to change the world would do it for the better. There's got to be some ulterior motive behind it.

At least, that's what Batman thinks.

Jason thinks it's all interesting. Maybe there is an ulterior motive but even then, at a scale so large that it's literally affecting the city in a positive way? You've got to be literally more insane than the Joker if you wanted to plaster your face everywhere at an event like this. Everyone else at this event seemed to show promise but compared to Danny Nightingale's company? They're literally all small fry.

Surprisingly enough, however, no one else seems to be at Danny's booth. Not even Danny. Jason frowned as he approached the booth and just looked at the machines on them. The Bees are kind of just flying in place and the moment that Jason even looked at them, the Bees immediately got to work. They flew around him like a puppy with wings, nuzzling against him and bumping into him so dumbly. And honestly?

It was actually kind of cute. You would think that being on such little hours of sleep and being grumpy the whole morning would really affect the pits inside him but no. He's surprisingly calm.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! They don't usually act like this," a voice stuttered out. A man hastily walked towards Jason as he gently plucked the Bees out of the air and brought it close to him.

"Uh, don't worry about it. I thought it was kind of..." Jason trailed out before locking eyes with the man who spoke.

This was Danny Nightingale. He was much shorter than Jason, only standing tall at 5' 5". His hair was fully black with only a white money piece right on his bangs. And his eyes? An alluring blue with only a hint of green at the center of his eyes. Honestly, the sight of Danny just about took Jason's breath away.

There was a subtle glow to him, almost making Jason think of there being some sort of meta activity going on but looking around the people in the area, no one but him seems to notice. Danny was concerned about Jason, that much is obvious. The way his eyes burrowed in concern then into confusion. It's strange why just looking at him made Jason's heart skip a beat, even though in hindsight, Danny looks much worse off than Jason.

That man looks like he hasn't slept in 3 weeks. But even then he was...

"Cute..." Jason finally finished his sentence a little too late.

Danny blinked in confusion, tilting his head to the side. His bangs fall freely over his eyes. Just the sight of that almost made Jason blush. "My bees were cute?" Danny spoke, the tone of his voice (very tired) sounded like a sweet harmony in Jason's ears. "Oh! You're interested in Nightech? No one else seems to be interested in my stuff yet. I can tell you all about this company and how it works? I put in a lot of work and love into these little guys and I'm sure you would love them too!"

Blah blah blah. Proper name. Place name. Backstory stuff.

Nothing of what Danny is saying is registering in Jason's brain right now. Maybe some. ("I... Love... You...")

"I love you too!!" Jason blurted out.

Danny blinked before widening his eyes. "Wh-What...?" There was that look of concern again but now there's another look. Recognition...

Whatever. None of that right now. This is embarrassing!

"I-I said I love your company. Uh. Do you have a business card? I can let Bruce Wayne know about this."

Wordlessly, Danny gave an information card to Jason before that poor brick of a man just ran out of there, not once even looking back. Honestly, from the way it's playing out in Jason's head right now, he feels like a princess running away from her prince at the stroke of midnight. The earpiece crackled before a voice started to speak.

"Jason? What the hell was that?" Bruce's voice questioned.

It was only when Jason left the gymnasium that he answered, "Me digging my own grave for the second time, old man. Let me go die in peace."

"No, no," Dick's voice chimed in, "Only after we replay that very short conversation about 50,000 times. Thank you very much."

Jason only groaned in response.

Danny, back in the gymnasium, only stared at the door that Jason left from in horror. The only way for people to react that way to him like that is for them to be dead or liminal. Now he has to figure out a way to tell Bruce Wayne that this person that he seems to know is a little bit dead!

This actually is a part of whatever the fuck I'm writing. I'm still thinking of a fic name. But all of the random posts go together in some way.

[mggslover]

spencer and readers first fight ! can you possiblyyyy do something along the lines of spencer said something sassy/petty/mean which results in reader giving spencer the silent treatment and he crashes out begging for her to speak to him 🤓☝🏼

your first fight with spencer genre: slight angst, fluff word count: 1,7k a/n: i've been so excited to write this one! honestly way too long for a drabble, but i hope you enjoy it

“That’s okay. Your mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend a concept like this."

Spencer didn’t understand the gravity of his words before you huffed out a sigh, placing your hands on your knees as you lifted yourself up from the spot next to him on the couch. His eyes followed your body as you walked straight toward your shared bedroom, opening the door before shutting it behind you with a bang. The click of the lock echoed through the now silent living room.

Spencer sat frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the door as if you’d magically reappear in front of him.

Everything about your body language hinted at you being angry, but he couldn’t grasp why. He replayed the situation back in his head in an effort to decipher the reason.

You had cheerfully greeted him when he entered the apartment. He’d been away on a case for several days, not having had the time to speak to you over the phone or give you any updates on how he was doing.

As much as he preferred keeping clear boundaries between his personal and professional life, Spencer couldn’t resist telling you the details of some of his cases when coming home. Not when the psychology behind the unsubs fascinated him so much. And especially not when you eagerly pulled him toward the couch, pushing him down onto the soft cushions as you handed him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, ready to hear about his day.

You sat cross-legged in front of him, eyes twinkling with admiration as he told you about today’s case. He explained how he discovered a pattern in the way the unsub took his captives, using the numbers 11235 — the first five numerals in the Fibonacci sequence.

He noticed the frown forming between your brows as he got into more detail.

“Can you explain that to me? I don’t get it,” you asked.

“That’s okay. Your mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend a concept like this.”

Spencer wasn’t lying. He remembered how his coworkers had blankly stared at him when he analyzed his theory — how Emily made eye contact with JJ, their silent looks saying there he goes again, and how Hotch had to cut him off to tell him to get to the point. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to explain it to you, he just didn’t see the point in doing so, not when he knew this was a connection only he could understand.

After a couple of minutes, there was still radio-silence. Spencer got up and walked to the bedroom, knocking softly on the door. “Angel? Can you open up for me?”

“Just go away, Spencer.”

Your voice cracked, like you had been crying, and the sound made his heart sink.

“Please open the door so we can talk. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” Your scoff vibrated through the door. “I don’t even want to talk to you if you can’t understand what’s wrong.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his hands turning clammy. He didn’t like confrontations and especially not with you. You’d never fought before. Rationally, he knew fights weren’t necessarily a bad thing — conflicts usually stemmed from deeper fears and feelings that get triggered, and confronting these feelings could lead to creating an even stronger bond. But right now, all he wanted was to turn back time and make sure those words never left his mouth.

His mind blanked in situations like these, so the only logical fix he could come up with was to call Derek.

“Hey,” Spencer spoke through the phone, balancing the device between his ear and shoulder as he nervously paced through the living room.

“Hey man. What’s up?”

“I messed up.”

Morgan’s chuckle sounded through the speaker. “Our genius making a mistake. Who would’ve thought the day would come?”

Spencer sighed, losing his patience. “It’s serious.”

Derek paused before responding. “Alright, slow down. Tell me what happened.”

Spencer repeated the conversation for what felt like the hundredth time that day, his guilt accumulating with each repetition. He gulped when he heard Derek take a sharp inhale at the other side of the line. He could almost see him shaking his head.

“Okay,” Derek began. “Now listen to me. When it comes down to it, all women are the same, they just need some loving and appreciation. Go buy her some flowers before the store closes.”

Spencer didn’t need to be told twice. He glanced one last time at the still-locked bedroom door before heading out.

Thankfully, Spencer’s apartment was close to downtown. He hurried into the first flower shop that he spotted, his eyes scanning the bouquets until they landed on a pair of bright colored lilies. The outer corners of the petals shone with a radiant shade of pink, fading into a soft white at the center.

He cleared his throat as he placed the flowers on the counter. “Can I have these, please?”

The woman behind the counter started wrapping them in pink paper, reaching out for lint to tie a bow. “Trouble in paradise?”

Spencer blinked, not often experiencing someone seeing right through him. Besides his coworkers. And you.

“Ya know, I see so many men come in here on the daily. You can just tell they got in trouble with their lady; sweating bullets and rushing to pick a bouquet the second before the store closes.” She twirled the bouquet in her hand as she pulled on the strings of the lint bow. “At least you picked a nice one.”

“Do-,” Spencer hesitated, his voice softening in an uncertain whisper. “Will she forgive me after this?”

“Depends on what ya did,” she answered with a lift of her shoulders. “What I can tell you is that flowers don’t do much fixing.”

Damn it, Derek.

The florist turned around, rummaging through a drawer, before pulling out an envelope and sliding it across the counter.

“Write,” she stated in a single syllable. “We need words. We need to know that you care, and we need you to put more effort into it than paying ten dollars.”

With a new plan in mind, Spencer hurried home. The apartment was still silent when he returned, the door firmly closed and no signs of you having left the bedroom. He sighed and made his way to his desk, shoving aside piles of books and papers until he had enough space to write. He opened the envelope the florist had given him, and carefully pulled out a sheet of blank stationary.

My Lover Dearest,

It is ironic that I have read so much poetry and so many books in my life, and yet I cannot find the words to describe how much you mean to me.

Sometimes, I find it difficult to believe that someone as wonderful as you would want to be with me. That I’m allowed to deserve the love that you give me.

My mind works in strange ways, and as much as you’ve praised me for it, it can work as a curse as well. I am scared to overwhelm you, to talk your ears off (which would be a shame, because you have beautiful ears) to the point that you grow tired of me.

I never had the intention to cause you pain, or to initiate that you’re any less brilliant than you are. You are the brightest part of my life. I feel grateful every time I get to talk to you, and I would love nothing more than to explain any concept you’d want me to. I’m sorry for not having understood that before.

I love you. I love you. I have been wanting to tell you this in a special way, please know that I am not just saying this to ask for your forgiveness. I love you.

Sincerely, Spencer

The clock chimed 03.00 a.m. by the time Spencer finished his letter. His hand ached and he could barely keep his eyes open as he stumbled to the bedroom door. He turned the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. With a resigned sigh he slid the letter under the door and sat down against it. It didn’t take long for exhaustion to overtake him.

The repeated knocking of the door against his back woke him.

“Spencer?”

Your voice sounded like a siren, and he instantly scrambled away from the door, allowing you to open it fully.

You stood there, holding the envelope in your hand as your eyes softened when you glanced over him, mouth forming a small oh. “What are you doing here?” you asked in worry.

“The door was locked,” he answered, voice still hoarse from sleep.

A curse escaped your lips as you pressed your hands against your face. “I am so sorry. I must have fallen asleep with the door still locked.”

Spencer’s lips lifted into a small smile, relieved that you hadn’t locked him out intentionally. “It’s okay. Orthopedists actually recommend sleeping on the floor from time to time. Sleeping on a hard surface encourages a more natural position for your spine, which can reduce back pain. It even strengthens certain muscles, so the pressure on your body evens out. As a matter of fact, anthropological studies have shown that-”

He stopped mid-ramble, blushing when he noticed the faint smile tugging on your lips.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll stop,”

“Don’t you ever stop,” you replied as you lowered yourself on the ground next to him. You reached for his hands, placing them into your lap.

Spencer’s blush deepened, and he struggled to suppress a grin. Your encouragement reassured him, and he went on about groups in Japan and Tanzania who experience significantly lower rates of back pain due to their minimal use of furniture.

“Spencer,” you gently interrupted after a while.

He blinked at you, seeing the gleam in your eyes as you adoringly stared at him. “Hm?”

“I love you too.”

[spurbleu]

neighbor!simon x reader. longer read.

you’re neighbor is a homebody. sort of.

he’s either never home or always home. you aren’t sure what he does, but whatever it is leaves his flat vacant for months at a time, not so much as a mouse breath breaching the thin popcorn walls that separate your rooms.

and when he is in the complex, you’d never know it. a shut in, the only give away is the muffled news channel that burrows through your moldings, or smithed footfall at ungodly hours.

the first time you caught him moving in while off to work. big bloke- and when you waved to him he stared, before lumbering into his complex. given, he was holding a large cardboard box, so you weren’t expecting him to return the greeting. but a hello would’ve been nice.

it was 4 months until you got a good look at him.

you were awake at a time you shouldn’t have been for a reason you had long forgotten. you do remember thinking you might as well do your laundry.

when you went down to the mat, there he was.

tracker fed shoulders taking up half the space, and on an inhale they took two thirds. clothes looked as though they had been dyed in pen ink and left to dry in hail. mud boots, thick legs, and the silhouette of a cauliflower ear against the fabric of his balaclava.

he glared at you like you weren’t supposed to be there. an anomaly, disturbed his routine. steel face, stone eyes, swear you’d seen the same look in your history books on the shields of greek soldiers.

it all scared you shitless, so you turned on your heel and didn’t go back until the morning. you make it a point to hustle past his door after that.

but you tend to take more than you can handle. swaddling your groceries as you wobble up the stairs, just barely there before your foot catches on the last step. produce among some of the other fragile items scattered across the tiles, and you curse under your breath.

you wouldn’t characterize yourself as a klutz, but it scrambling to collect your groceries feet from your door isn’t helping your case. the paper bags struggle against your grip, and it feels like you’re just biding your time until they all rip apart.

“you need help.”

its said more like an observation than it is a question. you turn slowly, and a goliath stands 6 feet and something over you. he sports a medical mask and a ballcap, which reveals new features- sun bleached skin that peels from the bridge of his nose to between his brows, which are thick and blonde. the left is cut in half by scar tissue and spite. if you squint you see freckles.

the night he scared you, you remembered his eyes as pitch. crow feather. under your bed.

you now see they’re the deepest shade of brown.

“i- no its fine i..” your arms do a dance with the bags, trying to keep them steady.

he grabs them both from you, and suddenly they still. its like handing squealing pigs to a farmer. built for holding them. it makes you feel weird that you like it.

“unlock the door.”

you do as you’re told and find your keys in your back pocket. fumble at the lock before opening the door and standing to the side to let him in. he nods.

sets your groceries down before gently tipping the brim of his cap. he doesn’t say anything before leaving.

and this started the strangest routine.

every week you’d get groceries, he’d be there.

the first time he was on the second flight of stairs. when you questioned how he knew you’d been shopping, he rolled his shoulders and scoffed.

“your huffin n puffin gave you away.”

he was there for four more trips. each time, you had gotten more words out of him. found out he had the driest sense of humor and a plethora of knock-knock jokes that you painfully laughed at.

he even kept up with the occasional flirt.

“yknow, you could start charging for your manual labor.”

“you rich?” he returned.

you laughed. “far from it. but this is a service, and you haven’t started making demands so…”

he stopped and stared at your back before you turned around. “so what?”

“i have to assume you just like me.”

he rolled his eyes, but you caught the way his cheek twitched under his eyes. although it was hidden by the mask, you had made him smile.

“don’t get your hopes up.”

all of it was enough for you to get comfortable. and then he wasn’t there.

the absence was strange enough to make your pace stutter when you reached the second floor, but you recovered and trekked to your room.

not without glancing at his door, though.

he must be back at work. surely he isn’t…well. he couldn’t have moved out without telling you. you aren’t close but maybe you are?

you thought so hard about it for so long that you placed your ear to the wall separating your flats.

after a few moments, you heard nothing. not even a mouse breath.

you felt foolish for being so relieved. and you kept feeling foolish for hoping he’d be there with every errand, and disappointed when he wasn’t.

it was 4 more groceries trips before you saw him again.

waiting at the entrance of the complex, crossed arms and black attire stood out like a sore thumb in the winter blight that bit at your nose with snow and temperatures below freezing. you picked up the pace.

when you got to the cement steps, you sorely regretted your decision to jog. not because it winded you, or it amplified the struggle you had with your bags, but because of the smug smile you could see crinkling the bastards cheeks under his mask.

“you missed me.”

you handed him a bag. “i missed your arms. carry that.”

you could hear the grin from behind you.

“whatever you say, sweet’eart.”

a/n- i didn’t really know how to continue this, if you have an recs send them in!! i make no promises tho.

[ireverie]

rose creek motel

pairing ↠ motel!worker!jake x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, age gap (18+), drowning, noncon, baby trapping, unprotected sex, oral, angst

summary ↠ after eighteen years of complying with the rules of your domineering parents, you finally decide it’s time to wipe the slate clean and move away. rose creek motel is nothing in the grand scheme of your life, especially with a history of serial killers lurking around, but when you meet jake, you decide that you’re not in any hurry after all.

wc ↠ 15.8k

a/n ↠ originally posted on my blog revehae, i am not plagiarizing myself. jake’s 27 for the plot. as always, feedback is appreciated! before you read, heed the warnings. i do not intend to glorify age gaps or predatory behaviors.

don’t like it, don’t read.

after a three-hour train ride to another city and another hour of wandering, you were thrilled to stumble across a motel before dusk. at first, there didn’t seem to be any nearby.

it was a smaller one, not part of any major chains throughout the country. there didn’t appear to be many staff nor customers. there was one dude who checked you in at the front desk and maybe a handful of cars in the lot.

not that it mattered. you wouldn’t be here long enough to be concerned about the sheer size of the place. a few days, maybe less, but certainly not more. the grand city of newark was waiting for you and you were borderline impatient to get there. but on the other hand, you wanted to savor this little trip. 

it would mark the first of your own, and the true beginning of your lifelong journey to find yourself.

any other person most likely would have been desperate to kick off their shoes and head to their room for the night, but the creek across the road from the motel caught your eye. you rushed over in spite of your aching feet as though it wouldn’t be there tomorrow, ambling along the riverbank. 

the waters rushed and crashed into slew of rocks, and you closed your eyes as you took in the sound. you could hear birds singing late afternoon songs and the rustling of trees in the early march spring. 

footsteps behind you startled you out of your peace. your foot slipped and your body lurched forward. had not a pair of big, burly arms clasped around you tightly, you would have slipped into the tiny creek. 

you glanced up in shock, meeting a handsome pair of innocent eyes. “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, pulling you away from the bank. 

when you were safely on your own feet again, the handsome stranger released you. you straightened your skirt and smiled up at him. “it’s fine. thank you for catching me.”

“no problem. it would have been my fault if you fell.” he introduced, “i’m jake. i work at the motel across here.”

you glanced back at the motel, as if you hadn’t seen it before. “oh,” you said, surprised. but the uniform clinging to him gave that away. “not much staff, huh?”

jake smiled. he had deep, adorable dimples. “well, we are a pretty small motel. we do what we can with what we have.”

“do you get a lot of visitors?”

“usually just people with a road trip gone bad,” jake said. “i’d ask what a girl like you is doing out here by yourself, but i don’t want to seem like a creep.”

you laughed, wondering how that would be possible. when you were as handsome as this boy was, it would’ve been more difficult. “no, it’s okay. i’m actually not having a car trouble. i got here by train. i’m on my way to newark.”

“newark,” jake repeated, seemingly interested. “where from?”

“boston,” you chirped. “i’m starting afresh. my birthday was a few days ago and as my parents like to put it, i’ve ‘gone rogue.’”

jake’s eyes went a little wider in surprise. “happy belated birthday,” he said. “how old are you now?”

you shrugged, deciding not to reveal too much information. you were maybe naive to a fault, but not a complete idiot. “that’s a secret. i’m an adult, though.”

jake snickered. “that’s obvious. you checked yourself into the motel, didn’t you?”

well, that was true. but the exterior of the building seemed so shady, you’d initially doubted they would even bother with identification. you were grateful they didn’t require you to be twenty-one. a second longer of wandering and you would have collapsed on the side of the road. 

ignoring his question, you gave one of your own. “how old are you?”

mocking you, jake put a finger to his lip and said, “that’s a secret. but i’m an adult, too.”

you shook your head, but there was an amused smile on your face. “fair enough,” you mumbled, turning towards the creek.

jake’s attention shifted with yours. “it’s called rose creek, our namesake,” he told you. “not much to see out here.”

“that’s not true,” you disagreed. “there’s a ton to see in nature. you just have to open your eyes and look.”

jake seemed amused, giving you a look. 

noticing his furrowed brows, you pointed towards the middle of the water. “look,” you said softly. “there’s a cute little baby turtle right there. they love creeks, because they’re an easy place to find tasty victims.”

jake’s eyes focused, landing on what he had thought was a rock and only noticed upon further inspection was indeed a turtle, chilling in its leathery shell. “damn, you’ve got a good eye.”

you giggled. “i grew up near a creek. you learn to pick up on those sort of things.”

“ah,” jake replied, nodding his understanding. “should we name it?”

“what would we name it?”

jake shrugged. “squirtle.”

that almost prompted you to roll your eyes. “that’s too cliché.”

“then, what do you suggest?” jake asked with a grin, crossing his arms. 

“i don’t know,” you mumbled. “donatello.”

jake snickered. “and that’s any better?”

you threw up your hands. “okay. fine. how about… archie.”

well, that was different from the other suggestions. “why archie?”

“because turtles remind me of that one studio ghibli film about the red turtle,” you told him, lowering your head shyly as you explained yourself. “and when i think of red, i think of that guy from riverdale.”

“isn’t that that show about teens dying?”

you shrugged. “don’t know. never watched it.”

something about that was amusing to jake and he decided that your suggestion was fitting. “alright. then, archie it is.”

you beamed. 

“well, it’s getting dark. i don’t think i have to tell you not to wander too late. you seem like a smart girl,” jake said.

you glanced around at the shadows falling onto the rustling trees and the last gleams of today’s light shimmering on the creek. “you’re right. i should head up,” you replied, turning to face him. “have a good night, jake.”

when you turned away, jake realized he never got your name.

after a long night of trying to catch up on some much-needed sleep, you decided to head down to the pool. it was nice to see a motel with a couple of accommodations. they would make a good enough resting spot before you returned to your travels tomorrow.

there were a number of lounge chairs facing the pool, but instead you chose to climb into a hammock a few feet away from it. it was a nice spring day, neither too hot nor too cold, and you folded your arms behind your head while fighting the urge to close your eyes.

there weren’t a lot of people staying at or near the hotel, so you weren’t surprised to be alone. to think of it, you hadn’t seen anyone but a couple of staff. although you did walk past a room blasting heavy rock.

you heard footsteps, and turned to see jake, sporting his burgundy uniform. he had a cart of towels, probably coming to restock. “jake,” you called out.

jake blinked up in surprise, likely not expecting to see you there. but when he did, he smiled and started to step over. “hey,” he said, digging his hands in his pockets. “you never told me your name.”

“whoops. silly me,” you replied, then told him your name. 

you watched him process it, as if he was deciding in his head whether he liked it or not. he repeated it quietly to himself and said, “that’s very pretty.”

“thanks,” you replied, bursting into giggles. “how’s work going so far?”

“oh, you know,” jake started, gesturing over to his cart with his shoulder. “nothing new. i never thought i would complain about not having enough work to do.”

you snorted. “i get what you mean. i was a camp counselor one summer. those kids drove me mad, you know. but when they were gone, i cried.”

there was a shimmer in jake’s eyes. “do you like kids?”

“yeah. they can be a handful, but they’re delightful. honestly, i don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like kids. how can you be mad at someone so innocent and full of life?”

jake nodded his agreement. “i realized a long time ago that people who don’t like kids are always bitter and unhappy with their own lives.”

that made you snicker, and the more you thought about it, he was probably right. “look at that. projection at its finest.”

“can i ask a personal question?”

“sure,” you said reluctantly. “what’s on your mind?”

jake seemed to hesitate, battling with himself in his head for a long minute before he asked, “would you ever have kids?”

that wasn’t so bad of a question. you hummed, not really having to think about it. you already knew your answer. “i’ve dreamt of settling down and having kids with the right person since i was young.”

jake gawked a bit. “really?”

“yes, really,” you told him, laughing at his astonishment. “i guess you can say i’ve always had big dreams. is that surprising?”

“no, it’s…,” jake trailed, finding no words. “those big dreams of yours. they couldn’t happen in boston?”

now that was a bit more personal. you blew out a breath. “well,” you began, glancing at the unnervingly still pool. “i just wanted a new environment.”

jake was tempted to press, to figure you out even more, but he didn’t want to risk startling you off. “maybe you were fated to stop by a really old motel in the middle of nowhere.”

“and meet you?”

something about that made jake smile. you were so smart. “and meet me,” he repeated.

by now, you knew that jake was kind of into you, the same way you were kind of into him. so, you decided to test the waters. “too bad that i’m leaving tomorrow,” you murmured quietly. 

jake heard you, and he frowned, though there was nothing he could do. it’s not like he expected you to put your whole life on hold for a guy you’d just met.

or maybe there was something he could do. “what if i gave you a couple of days on the house?” jake asked.

your eyes flitted up at his deep brown pair. “really?”

jake nodded. “what’s a few days?”

he had a solid point there. what was a few days? newark would still be there later on, and plus you had been taking your sweet time to make it there anyways. you weren’t in a hurry to get to this new life.

“then, i guess i’d stay,” you said, grinning wildly.

jake mimicked a victorious grin. “i think i’d like it if you stayed much longer than that, but i know you’ve got big plans.”

in all honesty, that surprised you a little. he was talking to you as if you had been here weeks, and not less than twenty-four hours. “what would someone like me do in connecticut?”

jake shrugged. “we’ve got… yale.”

you snorted. “and what makes you think i’m smart enough to get into yale?”

“actually, a lot of things. but i’d better get to work before i get caught slacking on the job,” jake said, pointing to a camera projecting from the side of the motel that had a complete overview of the pool.

you gawked. “those things work?”

jake laughed at your surprise. it was addictively cute, seeing his dimples deepen and his eyes sparkle. “you’re surprised?”

“a little bit,” you confessed quietly.

to your surprise, jake’s hand softly brushed your arm. it was so gentle, so fleeting, you could’ve convinced yourself it never happened had you not felt a lingering tickle where he’d touched you. “see you around,” he said to you featherly.

“see you,” you replied in a small voice, having lost it all. your eyes were fixed to his back as he walked away.

damn it, you were wanting more of this guy you barely knew.

almost half an hour passed before you eventually decided to head back up to your room. you wanted nothing more than to get to know jake better, but you would never interfere with a man’s pay. plus you were pretty confident that he would come to you when he was free enough.

there was a guy hovering over the railing next to your room, because he had been staying in the one beside yours. there was a joint between his fingers, although you had noted a couple of signs prohibiting it, not that anyone seemed to care. the stench of marijuana was all you could smell when you passed certain doors.

you had expected to slip past him and enter your room without interruption, so imagine your shock when he said, “i wouldn’t walk around here wearing stuff like that if i were you.”

like first nature, you tightened the towel around you. “excuse me?” 

the man didn’t look at you, facing the world. you could see the creek from here, and that was where his gaze seemed to be rooted, too. “when you’ve lived as long as me, you know things,” he told you. “you see that creek over there? a lot of bodies used to turn up there in the eighties. young girls that stayed here a night or two.”

you said nothing, because you had nothing to say. the obvious discomfort on your face was enough. 

“i’m just saying. you look like you’re alone. wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you,” he said, putting out the joint and walking away.

well, that was single-handedly the weirdest interaction you’d had at this motel so far. you hurried to unlock your room, immediately locking the door behind yourself.

you tried not to think much of it as you changed clothes, but you couldn’t help but wonder if that man was telling the truth or if he’d just had a little too much to smoke. either way, it was over twenty years ago. jake had mentioned nothing to you about any serial killers.

then again, he was clearly trying to get you to stay. the last thing he would’ve wanted was to scare you off.

chill the fuck out. just don’t hang around any old people. like that guy, you told yourself, comforting.

given that you didn’t go out again that day, you didn’t see jake at all until you finally emerged from your room the next afternoon in pursuit of a late breakfast. but when you glanced across the railing, you saw a figure all too familiar facing the creek.

forgoing breakfast for now, you raced downstairs and headed the road. they weren’t busy at all, although you still had a habit of checking before you crossed. 

jake heard you approaching, but didn’t turn around to face you. “how come i just know that it’s you?” he asked. 

you snickered, but it wasn’t like too many people would be strolling around this creek out of a curious interest. “maybe i have really distinguishable footsteps?”

laughing, jake finally met your eyes and beckoned you closer. you obliged, cautiously stepping to his side.

it was quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. the two of you were marveling at the beauty of nature together, enticed by what you saw. it was sunnier today than it was yesterday and sunlight filtered through the trees, shimmering on the water.

“i’ve been thinking about what you told me,” jake finally said after a minute or two. “when you said there’s a lot to see in nature. and ever since, i’ve been looking and appreciating the little things i didn’t notice before. you were right.”

“of course, i am,” you replied, but the cockiness was to hide the flutter of your heart. “when i’m sick of human nature, it’s always nice to come back to earth. it’s beautiful.”

jake bobbed his head in agreement. “archie’s over there.” he pointed somewhere along the far end of the creek. “it likes the sun.”

“yeah. sun basking is, like, a turtle’s favorite hobby,” you said, poking your head out to spot the cute baby turtle. you were grinning from ear to ear. 

“what a simple life,” jake said, lightheartedly shaking his head in envy.

you burst into giggles. but that reminded you of one of the many curious thoughts you had about jake, and you figured now was a great time to ask. “hey, i didn’t want to ask this before because i didn’t know how you take it. but you don’t look like the typical guy in motel business.”

from the look on his face, jake was anything but offended. “it’s my parents’ business,” he explained. “i just work here part-time.”

“ah.” you nodded your understanding, finding that a satisfactory answer. but it only made you want to know who jake was when he wasn’t hard at work, donning the family uniform.

then, you remembered what that guy told you about the murders and realized that perhaps jake knew more about if they genuinely existed. 

jake beat you to a word. “by the way, are you going to tell me how old you really are? because adult could mean you’re twenty-four or forty-two.”

you rolled your eyes. he was being funny. “i’m eighteen.”

“damn,” jake said, wincing. “i’m nine years older than you.”

that was totally surprising. “really?”

“you don’t see the wrinkles?” jake asked, pointing to his smooth, wrinkleless face.

god, he was alarmingly handsome. not to mention his skin looked literally poreless. “please. i thought you were twenty-three at the oldest.”

“that’s funny,” jake said with amusement. “i thought you were at least old enough to drink. damn, you carry yourself like you’re older.”

that wasn’t the first time you had heard something along the line of those words, but damn, this guy was pushing thirty?

jake seemed to have sobered a little the next time you glanced at his face, like he was worried about something. “is it weird now?”

“no,” you told him too quickly, maybe because you didn’t want it to be. “not unless you make it weird.”

it seemed like time stopped and the world was no longer spinning for a minute as you and jake gazed into each other’s eyes. and the closer he came to you, your noses nearly brushing, the less you could breathe. “am i making it weird?” he whispered.

you couldn’t speak, so you simply shook your head, gaze lowering to his perfect lips.

everything happened in an instant. one second, you were thinking about how he was perfect from head to toe, and the very next, your heart was soaring as his lips met yours. your eyes fluttered closed, and you felt as if you were being whisked away into a wonderland.

the two of you kissed with heat and passion, overcome with the urge to swallow one another whole, and jake was somewhat surprised by how talented of a kisser you were. the feeling was mutual. you had kissed a handful of boys, but never any with this much finesse.

maybe you had been wanting to kiss jake this whole time, and never knew until you had him.

jake broke away after a moment or two, impressed that you weren’t the first to tap out. something about kissing you was addictive. damn, it made a pretty picture in his head, your arms thrown around his neck and his on your back.

“damn, baby,” jake said, catching his breath. “where’d you learn to kiss like that?”

you peered up at him with a smile, wondering if he somehow got even handsomer in the time your eyes had been closed. “you say i carry myself like i’m older than i am. well, my folks would beg to differ.”

that answer was vague as hell, but jake understood what you meant perfectly. “ah, teenage rebellion? you make out with a lot of guys to piss your parents off?”

“sure, let’s go with that,” you mumbled, still none too keen on disclosing what was officially your old life. then, you caught a glimpse of his lips, and burst into laughter. “you’ve got a little something there.”

“yeah?” jake asked, swiping his thumb over a lipgloss stain that you’d left on the corner of his mouth.

“a little bit to the left,” you told him, trying - and failing miserably - to keep a straight face. “no, my left.”

jake pretended to get annoyed, grumbling, “if i kiss you again, will it matter that i wipe it off?”

at the thought of kissing jake again, your heart skipped a beat or two, but you tried not to show it on your face. “i think that would defeat the purpose.”

jake smiled, and before you knew it, your lips were pressed together again. all you could hear was the obvious wet smacking of your lips, the soft murmuring of the wind, and the quiet rippling of the water.

but you could feel his touch, his hand gingerly falling from the middle of your back to the apex of your thighs. jake pulled away from your lips again, but only to kiss you on your jaw and neck. and everything about it made you feel hot inside out, as if you were scalding.

feeling you tensing beneath his fingertips, jake grinned smugly. he leaned into your ear, whispering, “how about we head up to your room, yeah?”

you were no idiot. it was plain what that meant and a kind of nervous excitement settled in the pit of your stomach like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. “okay,” you replied, letting him take you by the hand.

almost the second you were safely behind closed doors, jake pressed you against the nearest wall and kissed you fiercely. although you were taken by surprise, you returned the kiss with the same amount of fervor, slightly sticking your tongue into his mouth.

mischief curled onto jake’s lips, pleasantly surprised by all the little things you were initiating. his hands slowly wandered down your body for a minute, one hand at your ass and the other cupping your breasts over your shirt. you made a soft breathy noise that had jake scorching with the itch to fuck you, and it only increased tenfold when he noticed your eager hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt.

while your fingers were hard at work, jake’s were too, waiting for the perfect time to slip underneath your shirt. you shuddered when the tips of his fingers brushed against your stiff nipples, whispering jake’s name. 

“come over here,” jake said, leading you over to the bed. 

he gently lowered you down onto the mattress and started to undress you piece by piece in between kisses, pressing his lips against every bit he exposed. it was all you could do to contain your agitation, holding your breath as his face crept lower. 

to keep the more uneasy thoughts out of your head, you focused on jake, asking, “aren’t you on the clock?”

“that’s the thing about working for your parents,” jake said without looking up, giving his undivided attention to your legs as he yanked your skirt off. “what are the odds that they’ll fire their only son?”

“oh,” you said. he did look damn fine in that burgundy uniform, but you would’ve liked to see him without it on.

the more naked you became, jake saw the way you shuddered nervously, and chuckled quietly to himself. “you’ve never done this before.”

he wasn’t asking. that was clear by his tone. it was an astute observation that you couldn’t even deny.

you frowned. “is it obvious?”

“a little bit,” jake replied honestly, smiling at you. “i was a virgin before, too.”

you grinned bashfully. not a second later, your eyes made the mistake of glancing down and getting a eyeful of the imprint of his dick, and you looked away, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i don’t mind kissing assholes, but they say that your body is a temple, and i’ve never met anyone worthy, i guess.”

jake raised a brow and pressed, “until now?”

that made you chuckle. jake was very good at reading in between the lines, like you. “until now,” you repeated. “you’re my first.”

“and hopefully your last,” jake flirted.

the stupidest smile was on your face. it was a foolish thing to hope, all things considered, but it made you feel pined after. “jake, what was your first time like?” you asked.

jake seemed a little grim when he heard your question, but before you could apologize for potentially overstepping, he replied, “it was with someone i had been with for a very long time, and thought i would be with forever.”

there was no doubt in your mind that it had been someone jake loved and lost, and you couldn’t help but feel for him. 

not wanting the mood to shift, jake quickly changed the topic back to you, and everything he wanted to do to you. “trust me,” he said. “i’m going to do everything i can to make sure that even if you go, you never forget me.”

you barely had time to respond before jake tugged your panties away, dragging a pair of fingers through your wet folds. you made a tiny noise as he used them to gauge how wet you were. dissatisfied, he sank to his knees, lips meeting your folds. 

jake darted his tongue out, circling your sensitive clit immediately after. you hadn’t expected the sensation to be so sharp, especially so soon, and you gasped, thighs tensing together. jake got a hold of them and kept them apart as he pleased, making you take every second. 

“ja…,” you rasped, unable to get his full name out. 

jake grinned, lips curling against your pussy. damn, you were a sensitive one. if you were reacting like this already, what would you do when he got inside you?

you squirmed as jake continued to go down on you, but it was useless. he was so strong, holding you in place as your body reacted to every single swipe of his tongue against your bundle of nerves. it was too much stimulation and yet jake didn’t seem to be bothered, thriving on your pleasure.

god, every sound you made was a whimper of jake’s name. he couldn’t deny that it made his dick twitch in his underwear, aching to be buried balls deep inside you, but he was holding out for your sake. as badly as he wanted to fuck you senseless, he wanted your first time together to be unforgettable for the right reasons even more.

if he didn’t, what would make him any different from those assholes you let kiss you purely to make some kind of rebellious statement?

jake didn’t want to be a statement, the thing you fell back to after all else had failed. he wanted to be the answer, the one to stitch you back together, the one you crashed into when the tides got high.

you had never felt anything like this before in your entire life. of course, there had been plenty times where you had gotten yourself off, but you had never known pleasure of this magnitude until now. your own hands had nothing on jake’s and his damn skilled mouth.

jake liked how sensitive your body was. it was all too easy to get a reaction out of you, and he was so attracted to how you couldn’t help but respond to every suck and lick, shuddering in his grasp without control.

“jake, i can’t…,” you trailed, fingers desperate to clasp something, to anchor yourself. you would have wound them through his hair, but you were afraid of accidentally hurting him, and settled for the sheets.

“yes, you can,” he said, pulling away from your dripping cunt for a few seconds. “you’re doing good, baby. cum on my tongue.”

it felt as if you were going to burst from the inside and you didn’t really want him to stop, regardless of how incessant the pleasure was. no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to keep still. you wanted more than you knew your body could handle.

to say nothing of the fact that jake was doing everything in his power to drag you to your breaking point. he knew exactly what to do to have you crying out his name. for a moment or three, he had you convinced that he was everything you ever wanted. now, it was too hard to think.

in a matter of minutes, you were coming undone with a whimper so sharp you were certain your temporary neighbor would come knocking on the door.

“that’s it,” jake crooned with the slyest fucking grin on his face, replacing his tongue with a pair of hefty fingers.

you tried to shove his hand away, the stimulation tearing you to shreds, but jake was keen on breaking you down until you couldn’t be destroyed any further. until he had ruined you for any other man.

your bare chest heaved violently as you fought to catch your breath, blinking a couple times to clear the wet daze of your eyes. there was nothing you could do except silently gawk at jake like he had singlehandedly just stolen your heart.

he finally pulled away, smugly asking, “need a break?”

after a few seconds of gathering your bearings, you rose to your knees and grabbed jake by the back of his head to bring his lips to yours, pulling him down to the creaky mattress beneath you. jake was surprised, but he liked how assertive you were, resting his hands at the back of your legs and letting you sink your weight onto him. 

it was criminal how good of a kisser he was. and if that didn’t already have you dripping, then the way he touched you all over would have. you felt his hard dick against your thigh and couldn’t think of a time where you had wanted anything so badly. 

“take these off,” you said to him when you pulled away from his mouth, tapping his underwear. “and i want to be on top.”

jake snickered in amusement. “whatever she wants,” he said, reaching for his underwear the second you climbed off.

your mouth ran dry the moment you caught a glimpse of jake’s intimidatingly thick length and you were certain that he was going to split you in half. you desperately didn’t want to come off as a shy virgin, but every second that passes made you slightly antsy.

fortunately, there was something to steal your attention away from jake’s impressively large size, and your entire demeanor shifted. “wait, fuck. do you have a condom?”

“close your eyes,” jake said. 

you immediately furrowed your brows, wondering what he was up to. 

noticing your wariness, jake added reassuringly, “five seconds. come on, i won’t do anything weird. i promise.”

reluctance was written all over your face in a large bold font and you had your doubts, but you chose to trust him, watching the back of your eyelids and counting up to five in your head. 

when your eyes fluttered open, jake was grinning like an idiot with a condom between his fingers.

you gawked, astonished. “where’d you get that from so fast - up your ass?”

jake burst into laughter and only said, “a magician never reveals his secrets.”

“give me this,” you said, taking the condom packet out of his hands to tear it open. 

“bossy,” jake mumbled under his breath.

that made you giggle, gingerly placing the condom over the head of his cock, and jake noticed how your bottom lip stuck out when you were heavily concentrated.

you were too enamored with his dick to notice that he was staring at you as though you were the prettiest thing in the whole universe. for some odd reason, the more you looked at it, the less scary it seemed. “it’s actually kind of cute.”

jake wasn’t expecting to hear those words and it completely snapped him out of his little daze. you glanced up at him when you heard him quietly snickering. “you’re something else, you know?” he asked.

“i know,” you replied, having heard many things along the lines of that statement. “you ready?”

it was ironic that you were the one asking him, but jake played along anyway. “show me what you got, baby.”

you moved to straddle him again, raising yourself over his size and grabbing him in your hands to steadily lower yourself. the two of you sighed together in unison as your slick walls clamped around him.

there was one reason why you firmly chose to be on top and that was because you wanted to directly control the pace in case things got to be too much for you. you took your sweet time to sink down deeper and deeper, never too keen on doing too much too fast. in spite of the great lengths jake went to prepare you, it was still a tight fit.

it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, as if you were choking on your own breaths, and your heart was pounding louder than ever.

“that’s it, baby,” jake said, gathering your soft thighs in his big hands. “is it too big for you?”

you shook your head, having your pride to protect and defend with your entire body. “no, i can take it.”

jake grinned proudly. “i know you can. that’s my girl.”

now that was a sure-fire way to get you hot and bothered. your heart fluttered at the praise and you hid your smile in your elbow, tempted to ride the soul out of him.

you were maybe somewhat impressed by how deep inside of you jake was and definitely plenty aroused. you had feared how far he could go, but now that your cunt was involuntarily tightening around him, gushing around him hotly, it was everything you wanted.

jake was as astonished by you as you were by him, watching you take his cock like a fucking champ. you may have been fighting to let all of him inside, but you were doing a mighty good job, all things considered. there weren’t too many girls he’d had with your determination to ride.

you had finally found a comfortable pace and although there was a little pain, the rapture on your expression was something that you couldn’t deny. you were watching jake watch you, noticing his face tense in a similar manner beneath you. 

and it was to die for. 

“oh my god,” you moaned, hands falling down onto his naked chest. 

jake couldn’t help but think the same thing with how you were gripping him for dear life and he was barely holding it together. to say nothing of the way you were crying out his name again like it was the only word you knew. he couldn’t help but think about how nobody else had ever heard your lips part open to whimper their name. 

and he would be keeping it that way, no matter the measures he had to take to ensure he kept you in his big, strong arms. 

you leaned into jake, pressing your lips to his as you fucked yourself on him. the tiny room was overwhelmed with sound, the bed creaking and your lips locking, and your bodies meeting in a loud wet smack. something about it turned you on more than you thought you were capable. 

jake thought he could watch you on top of him for hours upon hours. his hands wandered to your breasts as you kissed him, tenderly fondling them and brushing his thumbs over your stiff tits. you were riding him into the night like there was no tomorrow, like you had something to prove, and he loved every second of it.

the softest of whimpers escaped your mouth when you pulled back, brushing your hair behind your ears. you couldn’t fathom the ecstasy hanging over you, blindsiding you. maybe it was in your head, but you swore you could feel him in the pit of your stomach, and you didn’t know whether that was normal or not.

jake affectionately gathered your hands in his, holding them as you desperately tried to anchor yourself and make sense of the many things you were feeling at once.

it wasn’t an overstatement to say that you were seeing stars. you and jake were getting each other off, every guttural sound he made taking you to the moon, and every twist your face made sending him crashing into the atmosphere.

you were flush against him, kneading his cock perfectly, and that made jake mumble curses underneath his breath. “goddamn, beautiful. slow down,” he said.

but you didn’t want to slow down the pace, you only wanted to keep the fire burning. you laughed breathlessly and teased, “why? is it too much for you?”

jake chuckled and swore as he closed his eyes, not wanting to admit that you were unraveling him quicker than he’d expected. if this was your first time, why did it feel like you were deflowering him, exposing him to a kind of euphoria that was unlike anything he had felt before. 

he had been intent on dragging things out, but you were making him weak underneath your fingertips. damn, he wanted to thrust his hips up into yours, but he had a feeling you wanted to take the lead, for your own sake. 

“maybe it is,” jake confessed, much to your surprise. “maybe you’re getting me off too fast and it’s hurting my pride.”

“cum, baby,” you whispered sultrily, wanting to see a guy like him fold under pressure. it would be like making a grown man cry. “i want to see it.”

jake sucked in a breath at those words, accepting his fate. you were bringing him closer to the end and there was nothing that he could do about it, even if he wanted to.

you were glistening in coats of sweat from head to toe, and your thighs were starting to ache, but all you had to do was hold on for a little while longer. it was obvious that jake wasn’t far from the finish line, and in truth, neither were you.

it didn’t help that jake was unintentionally imagining things that would get him off sooner. thoughts of you were all that occupied him, picturing how it feel to fuck you raw and hard, holding you squarely beneath him. you were pretty on top of him, but he was enamored with how you had squirmed and cried out underneath him, too.

you had forgotten about everything else in the entire world while you rode jake to the ends of it and back. no part of you thought about your hectic life back home, about the life you’d planned in boston, and everything in between.

the only thing on your mind was jake and in spite of being totally consumed by something, it was the most peaceful your thoughts had been in months.

you could feel jake’s eyes rooted on you and glanced down to meet his gaze, noticing him smiling up at you. when he looked at you like that, he made you feel so wanted. you were naked and bare in front of him, in a literal sense, and he’d accepted every piece of you.

“what are you smiling at, silly?” you asked in between thick breaths. 

“you,” jake replied, like it was obvious. “you’re so damn beautiful, you know. i could fuck you forever.”

not wanting to show how much that had gotten to you, you quipped, “i think i’m the one doing the fucking here.”

jake chuckled, and you thought it was because of what you had said, but he had felt you pulsing around his cock, and he was amused by how easy it was.

the room was getting hotter than ever and it was becoming harder to breathe with the stuffy air. you almost thought that your skin was on fire, and you were scalding on the inside. you were going even harder now, chasing relief.

jake was losing his self-control and he couldn’t help but lift his hips into yours, making you gasp loudly. your head leaned back as you both rocked your hips, desperately trying to finish yourselves.

“jake,” you cried out again, tightening your hold on your hands to ground yourself like you thought you might fly off somewhere.

“i’m right here, darling,” jake crooned, holding your hands firmly. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you nodded your head, trusting him, giving in to him. 

everything after that was almost a blur. the rapture had you lightheaded, and all you remembered was the heat spitting through your core and your toes curling. 

but jake remembered so much more than that. he could picture the exact look on your face that did it for him, unraveling him, sending him cursing at the stars. the tremble that shuddered through his thighs as his cock twitched. he remembered the way your pussy throttled him as you orgasmed, moaning his name. 

when it was over, you collapsed onto his chest, panting and heaving as if you had ran a marathon together. 

neither of you made a move to shift positions for a long while, jake simply admiring the feeling of your bodies sticking together. “are you okay?”

you weakly nodded your head. that word was an understatement, but you didn’t have the strength in your bones to muster a better one yet. few pleasures came close to the kind you were currently reaping the afterhighs of. 

god, you weren’t stupid enough to throw everything away for some boy you’d just met, but he made you want to. 

jake preciously kissed your neck and shoulders. “go to the bathroom,” he whispered. “i’ll go in after you.”

“okay,” you replied obediently, starting to peel yourself off him, until you had a thought. “are you gonna stay?”

jake’s brows furrowed. “do you want me to stay?”

of course, you did. you had just lost your virginity to him in the best way possible, exposed yourself to him in a way no one else had ever seen, including yourself. not only that, but considering you were a young girl in the middle of essentially nowhere, being around a kindhearted, strong guy made you feel safer.

“please,” you said, wanting to be nowhere else but in his arms for the meantime. 

jake smiled and kissed you again, the corner of your mouth this time. “okay, but i have to leave early in the morning. i can’t slack off forever.”

you did the same, throwing your arms around his neck, before bringing your lips to his neck and whispering, “couldn’t you?”

“you drive me insane, woman,” jake groaned, sensing himself getting riled up again. 

you giggled, finally crawling off him and heading towards the bathroom, but not before demanding, “don’t move.”

jake had no place else that he’d rather be, even if he was in some moderately crappy motel that was understaffed and a playground to creeps. you were there, so it might as well have been like home.

when you returned to the room, jake was still there, only he had disposed of the condom now and he was no longer naked. he went in after you, like he said he would, and came back to also find you redressed.

well, sort of. beyond putting back on your bra and panties, your efforts were a little more nonexistent.

“well, now i feel overdressed,” was the first thing jake said when he came back. 

you burst into giggles. “because you are.”

with that, jake stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and came to join you on the bed, melting into your side. he couldn’t help but steal a few more kisses, completely under your spell now. 

the two of you got comfortable. it was clear that jake had no intention of returning to work tonight and had the motel been busier, you would’ve urged him back to his shift. rose creek would be fine without him for a few hours, maybe longer.

you were more important, and jake seemed to think so too, eager to know you better. “so,” he started. “does your family know you’re in connecticut right now?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “hell no. as far as they know, i just vanished in the middle of the night. i didn’t tell them i was going to boston, either. i probably should’ve picked somewhere down south, or on the west coast, but i don’t think they’d bother looking.”

jake frowned the more he heard your words, displeased by how much strife it seemed you had with your own blood. “why not? disobedient soul or not, you’re still their flesh.”

try telling them that, please, you thought, but didn’t say. “because i’m the black sheep,” you explained. “i’m the child that didn’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer.”

“what do you want to be?” jake asked, pulling you closer. looking at you as if he genuinely wanted to know.

it surprised you, because rarely did you meet anyone who seemed to have cared. “a vet,” you grumbled, feeling stupid.

“now that’s a surprise,” jake replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. and when you smiled an inch, he felt like he was getting somewhere. “but i think it suits you. you’d be a great vet.”

your cheeks were burning. it was embarrassing and heartwarming at the same time to have your aspirations validated for once. it was too strange for you and you said, “i’m talking about myself too much. what about you? you said this was part-time. do you have a full-time job?”

“to be honest, i haven’t really worked a lot since i graduated. my parents own a lot of property in the state and this is just one of them. the others are better, i promise,” jake said.

for some reason, that made a lot of sense. jake seemed a little too extravagant for this sort of environment. “you know, that clears up a lot questions i had about you. but then, why work here instead of someplace better?”

“in case you haven’t noticed, hardly anyone comes out here.”

you snickered to yourself when you realized the appeal of working here for a guy like jake. fewer crowds, fewer interactions, and more excuses to be sleeping around with pretty girls instead of legitimately working.

“but i do work for certain things. i didn’t have everything handed to me,” jake said to clarify. “i’ve been trying to settle down. i know it doesn’t look like it right now, but i have. and i want to give my future family everything.”

that didn’t surprise you either, but it did garner your attention. “oh?”

jake nodded. “yup. my parents have been begging me to bring a girl home for three, four years now. they said that they know i’ll be married someday, but they’re not as confident that they’ll be around to see it.”

considering that jake did come across as slow and steady, for the most part at least, you laughed, because the only reason they weren’t right to be unconfident was jake’s good looks and charming personality. 

you tossed an arm over him, peering into his eyes. “what’s stopping you?”

jake shrugged. if he had it his way, he would’ve brought someone home forever ago, but he’d found that few things went according to plan in his love life. “haven’t found the one, i guess.”

that was fair. you wanted a family too someday, but never in your life had you met somebody that you would let do more than kiss you, until jake. 

“the thing with love is that it’s trial and error,” jake told you, coming from a place of obvious experience. “so many girls i thought were perfect, until they showed me their true colors. and it hurts to cut them loose, but you have to.”

“i wouldn’t know,” you mumbled. “i’ve never been in love.”

jake’s eyes fell down to your gorgeous hand that was resting above his happy trail and smiled to himself. “you will be, i’m sure. i think love is out there for all of us, patiently waiting.”

you furrowed your brows, like those were the last words you expected to here out of his mouth. “so, you’re one of those.”

the look on jake’s face matched yours. “one of what?”

“a hopeless romantic,” you sighed, but there was a smile on your face. 

jake laughed. “i guess you could say that, but i just tell people that i’m ambitious.”

“well, mister ambitious,” you said, stifling a yawn. “i’m sleepy, and you’ve worn me out for one day. promise to tell me more about yourself tomorrow?”

jake nodded, then leaned in to kiss your cheek. “i promise. i get off early tomorrow, so we’ll have more time together. goodnight, baby.”

“goodnight, jake,” you whispered, snuggling into his chest.

like he couldn’t get enough of you, jake gave you one final kiss on your forehead before he turned off the lamp on the nightstand. he had his arms around you, your back flush against his chest, and you stayed that way until night’s end.

it was some of the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time. being in jake’s arms made you feel comfortable, protected. you weren’t certain why, but it was like no harm could reach you there. you were untouchable and you didn’t have to worry about anything.

when you woke up, you were surprised to still find him there, barely awake himself. “you’re still here?” you asked, unexpectant.

jake grinned at you when you turned to rest your head on his chest and replied groggily, “i thought i’d stay to hear your pretty voice one more time before i left.”

you rolled your eyes at his obvious flirting, but there was a huge beaming smile on your face and you were kissing him affectionately merely seconds later.

one thing lead to another. you swore you didn’t know how it happened. slow, sweet kisses were met by languid, intentional touches, until jake was on top of you, fucking every bit of sleepiness out of your body.

the tiniest moans escaped you as jake rocked his hips into you, slow and gentle, and you clung onto his forearms to anchor yourself back down to earth. he was whispering dirty little nothings in your ear, telling you how good you were to him, unraveling by the minute. 

it just felt too good having him inside you, filling you to the hilt and making your bodies seem inseparable. you loved being tangled together, limb to limb, pleasuring each other like there was no other option. it was the first time you had craved someone so desperately. 

you didn’t want to get out of bed when he was gone. you had all the energy in the world, but you were unfathomably sore. somehow, in a good way. you liked feeling the traces of jake in your bones long after he had slipped away. 

deciding not to rot in bed while you waited for him to return, you got up to take a shower and rinse away the scent of sex from your body. it would be a while, anyway. jake had mentioned something about going back to his place for a minute. 

part of you wanted to feel guilty for keeping him overnight, but you couldn’t. not when you knew that he had enjoyed it as much as you had. you wanted jake, and he wanted you. there were no doubts. 

drying off, you noticed that you had used the last towel and you would need more to cover the last two days of your extended stay here. you got dressed and headed down to the main lobby, requesting some from the guy that had been working the desk since you got there. 

you leaned against the wall while you waited, your thoughts naturally wandering off to jake and his handsome face and stupidly adorable dimples. and maybe his unthinkably talented cock, but only for a second or two. maybe three.

it was strange that he had been the only thing you knew your entire time here, and even then, you barely knew him. under different circumstances, you would have wanted to know all there was to know about jake. you would always remember him, even when he was forever gone. 

“those towels you wanted,” said the guy working the desk, snapping you out of your daydream. 

you walked up to the desk, smiling kindly as you accepted them. “thank you. sorry for the inconvenience.”

“it’s fine. have a good day,” he replied, smiling back suspiciously wide. 

you didn’t comment on it, wishing him the same and heading for the door. 

before you could reach it though, you heard his voice again. “by the way, i heard you getting it good when i was making my rounds,” he told you slyly. “how much for the inconvenience?”

dickhead, you thought. your smile dropped and you switched on a dime, shooting him a hefty glare. “i’m not for sale,” you grumbled, storming the fuck out of there. 

god, why were the interactions you had with men at this motel getting increasingly weirder? had not jake been keeping you around, you would have been on the next train to boston days ago. 

you were angry as hell at being propositioned for sex by some random stranger, but you tried to let it go. although you would definitely be ranting to jake about it later. speaking of, on the way back to your room, you noticed the door to one a few rooms down was ajar. 

it was frequented by jake, you’d accidentally noticed. sometimes, you would see him come and go, way too often for any customers to be staying there.

you didn’t mean to pry. you had only gone up to check if he had already arrived, but there was no sight of him anywhere. the one thing that was clear was that he spent a hell of a lot of time here.

there weren’t too many things, considering he didn’t live there, but there were a couple of uneaten snacks sitting on the table. and a purple hair tie that you barely paid any mind to. on the nightstand, there was a framed picture of jake with some girl you’d never seen.

it seemed like they were pretty close, all things considered. he had an arm wound tightly around her, and her head was resting on his shoulder. you weren’t jealous, especially considering he looked nearly a decade younger in the picture, and you instead found it cute that he looked so different and not at the same time. 

given the different trends at the time, his hair was in a completely different style. his cheeks were a little rounder. but he still had the same silly, goofy smile. 

realizing what you were doing was definitely a major invasion of privacy, you scurried out of there with your towels and headed back to your room to restock. 

jake came knocking way too many hours later, but the second you heard, you leapt up, swinging the door open and throwing them around his shoulders. “what took you so long?” you asked sullenly. 

jake was pleasantly surprised by the abrupt display of affection, embracing you. “i decided to get everything done so that i could come straight to you, and didn’t have to leave.”

well, that made sense. when you pulled back, you noticed that he wasn’t in his uniform for a change. “this is my first time seeing you in normal person’s clothes. you look different. good different.”

“thanks, beautiful,” he replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. “may i come in?”

you stepped to the side, letting him enter, and shut the door behind him. 

jake seemed amused when he noticed the television was on, showing some anthropology program he had never watched. “did i interrupt?”

it took you a second to realize what he meant, but when you did, you were all giggles. “no, you’re way more important.”

jake was glad to hear that. “by the way, did you have fun sneaking into my room?”

the sudden accusation startled you, but you didn’t deny what you had done. he somehow clearly already knew that you’d nosed around, and you weren’t one to make excuses nor lie. “that was rude. i should’ve asked for your permission. i’m sorry.”

something about your sincerity made jake smile and wave it off. “it’s fine. i don’t have anything to hide.”

either way, you still felt a little guilty. you wanted to ask him who that girl in the picture was, but you decided that you’d done enough snooping.

noticing the shame on your face, jake beckoned you over, commanding, “come here.” and when you promptly did as told, he smoothed his fingers through your hair and reassured, “i told you, it’s fine. forget about it. now, talk to me.”

you melted into jake’s touch, and forgave yourself, forgetting about what you had done, forgetting about all of the awful parts of your day that were no longer relevant now that you were comfortable in jake’s arms.

minutes turned into hours before you were ready for them to, and you almost couldn’t believe how easily you had made a friend out of jake. he was just so easy to talk to, getting you to confess about your less than happy past and chat about your hopes for the future like you were lifelong buddies.

and to your surprise, he made no attempt to try and sleep with you that night. it seemed that jake was fully intent on getting to know you for the young woman that you were.

every now and then, you got the feeling that he was more into you than it was safe for him to be, and more than you could fathom him being so quickly, and knowing that you would be leaving soon, it crushed you. no part of you wanted to see his face when it was time to say goodbye.

but when you woke up the next day, you were smiling. jake had slipped away, something about having errands to run unrelated to work, and you were counting down the seconds until he would come back. 

it was your last full day together.

the thought saddened and excited you all at once, overwhelming you to the core. you had convinced yourself that although jake had made you feel something nobody else ever had, you would move on the second you got a step closer to bringing your dreams to fruition. but until then, you were a little heartbroken.

you had to be real with yourself for a second. could there be a way for a guy almost a decade older than you to be someone you spent the better half of your life with?

you didn’t think so. you and jake led different lives. and while you hoped he would soon find the girl he had long dreamed of, you knew that she wasn’t you. 

who were you to keep him down, when he could be searching for her?

not to mention you weren’t even ready for such large of a commitment. you wanted to complete school and graduate, eight years of your life at least that you would be hard at work, studying your ass off. jake struck you as the marriage and kids kind of boy, none of which you were prepared for.

he’ll be fine. you’re acting like he’s in love with you or something, you told yourself, sitting on your empty bed. there was no way someone as handsome as jake hadn’t had his fair share of short-term flings.

at some point, you quickly became bored of waiting and decided to go on your phone, which you shockingly hadn’t been giving much attention lately. there were some texts from your friends, the only ones you had mentioned connecticut to, and you promptly messaged them back. 

there weren’t any notifications from your family, but whether that was only because you blocked them or not, you didn’t know. 

then, you opened google and started to search random questions, as you often did when there was nothing more exhilarating to do. you had a couple of questions about toothbrushes, a word your friend had sent that you had never seen before, and finally, the motel itself.

you didn’t know why you hadn’t googled any information about it sooner. most likely because you didn’t think you would be welcomed for so long, but either way, it should’ve been one of the first things you’d done.

out of weary curiosity, you typed the name of the motel into your search engine, and the first thing you saw was a picture of the front exterior.

the next thing you saw, however, was a little more appalling. there was a news article from a little more than a month ago reporting the death of a girl named alyssa gardner.

rose creek, named in memory of rose bellori who was found there after being tragically murdered thirty-eight years ago, suffers another victim, says local police department. twenty-four-year-old alyssa gardner was found in the creek three weeks after being reported missing. her last known location prior to her murder was rose creek motel, according to her bank statements.

once you read the first sentence, you couldn’t stop, remembering what that old man had told you about the bodies that turned up in the creek. and as you continued to look into the murder, you froze, reading something about how she had last been wearing a purple hair tie.

there had been a purple hair tie in jake’s room, you remembered, because it was on the table beside the snacks. it could have been a coincidence, but although his hair was long enough, you had never seen jake tie up his hair.

now you had to know. there was a picture of alyssa wearing the tie and it was so specific, there was no way you wouldn’t know if they were the same just by looking. but you had no clue how you would get in there. after your invasion yesterday, there was no way jake would reasonably make the mistake of leaving it open again, even if he claimed to have nothing to hide.

you slipped on your shoes, brainstorming on your way to the room, considering jake wouldn’t have been back for a few hours, according to himself. your first thought was the guy at the front desk, but if he did do you a favor, he would want something in return that wasn’t cheap. nor were you selling.

fortunately, another man started to walk by, an employee, judging by his uniform. “excuse me, sir,” you said, donning your most helpless voice. “is there a way you could help me get in this room? i left my key inside by mistake.”

obviously believing you, the man said, “yeah, of course. i have a general key card right here.”

and just that easily, he opened the door for you. 

“thank you so much,” you told him, expressing your gratitude before closing the door to jake’s room behind yourself. 

you felt bad for lying, but your gut was screaming at you right now and you were tempted to trust her now more than ever. you raced to the table, shoving the snack box out of the way, and gawking in horror when you found what you were looking for.

it was the purple hair tie, and not only was it the exact same color and design as you had seen in the picture, but there were traces of hair on it that didn’t match the dark color on jake’s head.

you backed away, the blood freezing over in your veins. the shock was too cruel, too icy, and there were a billion thoughts racing through your mind. 

but at the forefront of them all, you were thinking, i’ve got to get the fuck out of here.

you stepped out of the room, clearing the hallway before you made a beeline for yours, making a call and shoving your things into your suitcase. you weren’t supposed to be leaving until tomorrow, but you figured it was in your best interest to escape before things had the opportunity to go wrong.

there was no time to think about how your judgment could have been so awful, because all you wanted to do was go far, far away from this place, where you would finally be safe from all the things in this world that wanted to hurt you.

the second your belongings were packed, you checked out at the front desk, noticing that the dude from yesterday was strangely no longer there, replaced by a woman you had never seen before. but you didn’t ask questions, didn’t press.

because the second you were free to go, you were dragging your suitcase to the road and praying that uber would get here before jake could.

until you felt something cold pressing into your back, and every bone in your body went stiff. “leaving without saying goodbye?” asked a familiar voice, coming out of nowhere. 

tears began to sting your eyes, fear making your blood run cold. you couldn’t see him, but your whole body knew who it was. “please.”

“let’s take a walk,” jake said nonchalantly, pointing with the hand that wasn’t discreetly holding a gun to your back.

given the circumstances, there was no way in hell that you wouldn’t do as told. you walked to the right of the motel with your suitcase in tow, far out of sight of any cameras that might’ve been privy to your predicament, willing yourself to breathe lest you fell apart then and there.

it had never been more of a struggle to walk, and it was like you had nearly forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other. your brain was hyper aware of the weapon not even an inch away from you.

through your blurry vision, you could make out a car coming into view. jake asked, “do you have your license?” 

you nodded, afraid to speak. 

“good. this suitcase could’ve been you,” jake said, taking the suitcase out of your hands to throw into the trunk. “you’re driving.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. it terrified you how indifferent jake seemed, walking you over to the driver’s side of the car and opening the door for you, meanwhile you looked as if you had seen a ghost.

only when he got in on the other side did he hand over the keys, still pointing the gun at you and calmly ordering, “drive. i’ll tell you where to go.”

and that was exactly what he did, telling you directions as you made every turn he told you to, not that there were very many.

every second was spent fighting tears and trying to keep your thoughts from racing. you could’ve never seen something like this coming. you had felt so safe, so secure around jake, and now he was threatening you with a weapon.

god, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to you. would he murder you in cold blood like that girl in the news article?

your first thought was to try and coax your way out of it. as if killers listened to logic and reasoning, outside of their own. “jake, you don’t have to do this. you can let me go.”

jake laughed, although you were dead serious. “so that you can go straight to the police? or worse, leave me here by myself?”

“it doesn’t have to be like that,” you whispered. “i like you a lot, jake.”

“i like you a lot, too. that’s why i have to do this, darling.”

“i don’t understand.”

“i know,” jake replied coolly. “it’ll all make sense soon.”

that statement didn’t make you feel any better. instead, you were enveloped by a deep feeling of cold dread, sensing that the worst had yet to come and you needed to brace yourself for the inevitable.

no more than thirty minutes of driving later, jake told you to pull into the driveway of some house along the creek. you wanted to scream when he pulled you out of the car, but the house you were at was isolated from the rest of the world. nobody would have ever heard you even if the cry came from the very tip of your lungs.

but you noticed that he had left his gun in the car. 

you tried to break out of his grasp, but jake was tremendously stronger than you, and he didn’t seem to like your actions much, hissing, “i don’t want to hurt you, but don’t think i won’t.”

no part of you believed that he didn’t want to hurt you, not even for a second. “let me go. i want to go home!”

“no, you don’t,” jake shot back, tightening his clasp on your bicep. “you want to be anywhere but there. don’t act like i haven’t been doing you a favor.”

“don’t act like you know me,” you snapped, still trying to wrest your way out of his hold. 

jake laughed, but it was mirthless. “honey, i do know you. you told me enough about you. i know what you like, and what you don’t like, and how vicious your parents are to you. i know that you don’t ever want to go back home.”

you didn’t know what was worse between being here right now and being home, and that thought made ache spring into your chest ravishingly. 

“i should’ve known you’d find out sooner than i’d hoped,” jake said. “you’re a smart woman, but that’s one of the many things i love about you.”

tears continued to well your eyes, but they were angry now. “let go of me!”

jake began to become exasperated, dragging you over to the edge of the creek, but you didn’t stop demanding to be freed, flailing and thrashing. 

not until you finally exclaimed, “if you’re going to kill me, then kill me already!”

to your surprise, that made jake root in place for a moment or two. “i think you’re confused.”

you were glaring up at him. “wasn’t that your plan?”

for an unsettling amount of time, jake just stared at you emptily. then, he began to laugh heartily, amused to no end. “now why on earth would i want to do that?” he asked.

you said nothing, startled and baffled altogether.

jake smiled at you. the sight warmed your heart no more than a day ago, but now, you were thoroughly unnerved. “baby, you’re perfect. you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. you may be a little younger than i usually go for, but maybe that’s where i went wrong. with you, it’s not too late to fix the little things. like all this resistance.”

nothing could have prepared you for the sudden change in him, for him to throw you to the ground and submerge your head underneath the water of the creek.

it felt and sounded like the whole world had stopped for a moment before the panic started to settle in cruelly, and you inhaled more water than you had been prepared to. your body desperately missed air, and every time it tried to breathe, only more water entered your mouth. 

when jake yanked you back up by your hair, you spat out a load of water, and began to cough. he asked, “learn your lesson?”

you said nothing. you couldn’t at that point. 

jake took it as defiance and lowered your head back underneath the water again, giving you no time to recover from the previous plunge, and your entire body fought against it, but your efforts were in vain. 

and like before, he pulled you up and asked, “learn your lesson?”

“fuck you,” you spat as belligerently as you could between breaths, even though it hurt to talk. 

jake said nothing, throwing your head back down. 

at this point, your lungs were scorching and your nose was burning. your chest was smoldering with pain and panic and everything in between. helpless, your mind was begging for mercy, but the more you prayed for the water to escape, the more you inhaled.

your muscles were screaming for air and you genuinely thought that you were going to die, that this was the end. you would never know the life you had long dreamed of, the life you had risked everything to have, and the one you had always wanted.

it felt like an eternity had passed when jake brought you back up to the surface and asked you again boredly, “learn your lesson?”

you said nothing, spitting out more bursts of water and gasping for breaths that burned your throat.

jake was about to submerge you again, but at the very last second, you blurted, “okay, okay! i’m sorry. i learned my lesson!”

“good,” jake said, pulling you up and dusting his hands off. “let’s go inside.”

you didn’t dare disobey, letting him lead you inside the house, which you assumed he owned. there wasn’t any time to marvel at the sheer beauty of it before he was tugging you downstairs to the basement where there was already a mattress waiting for you. 

whether that had been prepared for you, or leftovers from the last victim, you didn’t want to know.

jake took one look at your flushed, tear-stained face and softened. he brought a finger to your cheek, but you lurched away from him, like a startled animal in a cage. which, to be fair, wasn’t too far from the truth. 

he frowned. “i wish you didn’t have to be so nosy, baby. i didn’t want you to see me any differently than before.”

it’s too late for that, you huffed to yourself. you fell to the ground beside the mattress, hugging your knees.

jake glanced down at you sighing, debating coming over to join you, but decided against it. for now. “but you don’t have to worry anymore. you’re safe with me. nothing can hurt you as long as i’m here. god, i’ve made sure of it. it angered me to no end when i saw that guy in the lobby flirting with you.”

you immediately remembered what had happened in that lobby, something you had been intent to mention to him but forgot, and the blood drained from your face. “what did you do to him?” you asked. 

“what do you think?”

you shook your head. no wonder there had been another person working the front desk earlier. you hugged your knees tighter and cried, “he was just some jerk, jake. you didn’t need to kill him.”

“yes, i did. i would kill anyone who ever dare dreamed of touching you,” jake insisted darkly.

now that you thought about it even harder, there was no reason for jake to even know that that whole ordeal went down in the first place. he hadn’t been there when it happened. you slowly glanced up, asking, “how did you… know?”

jake chuckled. “because i’ve been watching you, silly. how else?”

no shame, no guilt. he seemed proud of himself, grinning from ear to ear. the sight made you sick, but not as sick as it did to know that he had been essentially spying on you in his free time. you remembered, only a few days ago, asking him if the cameras were really functioning.

your stomach churned. that was why he always seemed to know where you were, to always drop into the places you were. that was how he knew you has been in his room, and how he knew you were fleeing.

even though you felt like vomiting the more information you learned, you needed to know the truth. “why did you kill that girl?”

“which one?” jake asked, which made your heart stop in absolute terror. “if you’re talking about alyssa, i found out she was addicted to drugs. god, everything was going so smoothly until all of that.”

if you could’ve convinced yourself that you were only in a nightmare, you would have, but the pain in your chest and throat was too aggressive. “i bet you killed that girl in the picture too,” you replied hoarsely.

jake’s eyes darkened, but it was less anger and more of a morose kind of emotion. “no, that’s not true. she died in a car accident.”

given the pain tensing his features, you believed him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to have any sympathy.

jake continued, “we were eighteen and we had just graduated. she was the girl everyone wanted me to be with, and the one i thought would always be with. then one day, she was just gone. i’ll never forget getting that phone call in the middle of the night.”

the words he used made you remember something. you had asked him what his first time was like, and jake had told you something along the lines of it being with someone he thought he would spend forever with.

that was her, the girl he had loved and lost. 

“i’m sorry you went through that,” you whispered, feeling as though you were obligated to console him in some way. 

“i am, too,” jake mumbled. “but life goes on. and i found you. god, you don’t know how many times i had to go through this to find you, but it’s over now. you remind me of her a lot.”

you froze in your own skin, suddenly having an epiphany. you didn’t understand before, why jake was doing all this, but it was all coming together now.

life may have moved on, but jake had not. instead of getting over the girl he had lost so many years ago, he was trying to recreate her, to get her back in some sick, twisted way. you would be the vessel needed to resuscitate her, and the girls before you were the other candidates that didn’t meet the mark. 

he had told you that. not outright, but it was what he’d meant, and the confession went right over your head. so many girls i thought were perfect, until they showed me their true colors. and it hurts to cut them loose, but you have to.

jake wasn’t killing girls out of some sadistic hatred. matter of fact, he didn’t even want to kill them, but he felt obligated to eliminate the unworthy. he was killing because they ultimately didn’t meet his standards.

which implied that someway, somehow, you did. as he put it, you were everything he’d ever wanted. 

“why me?” you asked, rubbing your eyes clear of tears.

jake at last approached you, and although you wanted to back away and hide, there was nowhere for you to go. “easy. from what you’ve told me, you’re the black sheep of your family. you didn’t even tell them where you were going. nobody is going to look for you. nobody will miss you. you’re perfect.”

those words were crueler than he intended for them to be, but jake wanted to be truthful with you, because that was the key to a long-lasting relationship. he wouldn’t hide from you, and he wouldn’t allow you to hide from him. you would be perfectly honest with each other.

“we’re going to have kids together someday,” jake rambled, holding your cheeks in his hands gingerly, almost with affection. “i’m going to take you to meet my parents, and they’re going to love you, because i love you. and we’re going to stay in this house.”

you glanced around. “here?”

jake sported a beaming smile. “it’s perfect, isn’t it? you love nature, and we’ll live right here along the creek. it’ll be just like how you grew up, except you’ll be accepted here.”

perfect, you repeated in your head bitterly. jake seemed to be as obsessed with that word as he was with you. he couldn’t stop saying it, and that revealed even more about his intentions the more he used it.

noticing the tension in your face, jake squeezed your hand and tried to console you. “don’t worry, i’m not going to keep you from your dreams. but you’re going to stay in this basement until you understand that you belong to me, and i belong to you.”

“i’m not your fucking property,” you hissed with unadulterated vitriol.

obviously, jake was growing exhausted of having to put up with your less than meek behavior, and before you could apologize, he hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed. you made a tiny, broken noise when he began to squeeze your throat instead. “i will whip you into shape if i have to,” jake growled. “i will fuck you into shape, everyday, if that’s what it takes, dear. i already made up my mind. you’re mine and i won’t let anyone else have you.”

your throat still ached from the pain of nearly drowning three times over, sorely pleading for quiet remorse, but jake was nothing short of committed. he would stop at nothing to bend you into submission, no matter the price needed, because when he wanted something enough, there was nobody that could tell him that it wasn’t his for the reaping.

not his parents, not you, not anyone.

true to his word, jake began to force one his hands underneath your pleaded skirt. he liked that you wore them, initially because he found them strangely cute on you, but now because of the easy access he had to everything he wanted.

you thrashed again enervatedly, sore from head to toe, but you told yourself endlessly that you weren’t a quitter. you couldn’t let him break you, not until he had broken all the fight out of you first. it would go against everything you stood for, everything you believed.

“behave,” jake said. “behave, or you’ll only make it worse on yourself.”

you roared expletives into his palm that jake couldn’t understand, nor did he bother to. not after he had caught a glimpse of your precious cunt and he had already begun to imagine making sweet love to you. the lingering picture was all he could think of.

how you had gripped his biceps, brows tensing together, calling out his name and his name only. jake knew you reciprocated his pining. he had seen the proof, felt it dripping and pulsing around his cock, milking his release out of him even quicker than he had hoped.

and really, honestly, jake didn’t want to hurt you or cause you any needless pain. one day, you would understand that he was only doing this from of a place of love and endearment. you gasped for breath when the hand on your throat finally slackened, sucking in the sharpest one you had ever inhaled, and could feel the basement reeling.

while you were busy blinking the misty daze out of your eyes, jake ran a hand between your legs, touching your clit. “jake, stop,” you rasped. 

“shh, let me make you feel good,” jake crooned softly in your ear. 

it was maddening that your body still reacted fondly to his deep voice and tender touches, and you hated every second of it. you resisted him, pressing your thighs together, but it took little to nothing for jake to spread them apart again, and your body naturally liked his strength, too. 

still, you tried to swat his hand away. now that you knew the truth of who he was really was, what he really was, you couldn’t stand to let a monster like jake to touch you. 

jake sighed irritably, and the look on his face made you shudder. “you’re just going to keep being a bitch about it, aren’t you?”

he only wanted to pleasure you, for fuck’s sake. why wouldn’t you let him?

“i don’t want this,” you whimpered, peering up at jake as you welled up with tears. 

“yes, you do,” jake told you, as if he was trying to convince you of something you already knew wasn’t true. “you do want it. remember?”

you shook your head, defiant. “that was before. it’s different now.”

“nothing has changed between us.” 

“everything has changed!” you cried out, bursting into sobs. “you’re not who i thought you were. you… hurt me.”

“i didn’t want to. i promise that i didn’t, honey,” jake whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “and the sooner you listen to me, the sooner i can make you feel better.”

he started to do exactly that, returning between your legs, this time sticking his face beneath your skirt. jake went to town, pulling out all the stops that he remembered had you singing his praises. 

not a moment later, you slumped in defeat, too weak from your unwanted orgasm to deny him any longer. jake smirked when he noticed you twitching from the aftershocks, licking his wet lips that had gotten soaked with your arousal.

“that’s it, baby,” jake said, proud of himself. he liked worshiping you, and even if you didn’t want to admit it, he knew he brought you to elysian heights. “ready to take my cock?”

you shook your head wearily, but jake didn’t believe you. only the day before yesterday, you had been so eager.

“come on, don’t be that way. you know you love this dick,” jake said. he had never looked more sure of himself, not hesitating to step out of his clothes.

although you wanted nothing more than to defy him, to spring up and make a beeline for the nearest door, you couldn’t bring yourself to. there wasn’t even time for you to tell him to stop before jake was spreading you open, prodding your entrance with the head of his cock.

and you were so wet that in spite of his size, he slipped inside with ease.

jake grunted at the first push of his cock inside you, slowly coaxing his way deeper. he slipped his fingers through yours, knowing that you liked to use his hand to anchor yourself because you quickly got overwhelmed by his size.

but he noticed that each time you were taking him even better, and jake liked the thought of successfully breaking you in. to him, it was the perfect fit. it was a sign that you were made for him to fuck and breed. your vice-like walls were gushing around him, kneading him, swallowing him whole. only him.

“that’s good, baby. don’t run from it,” jake crooned in your ears before sealing your lips together.

jake didn’t notice that you weren’t kissing him back. when his eyes were closed and he was buried some inches deep inside your pussy, it became easier to convince himself anything. because you may have denied him, but jake thought the body never lied, and yours was calling out to him. 

the weight of your body rocked in tandem with his thrusts and jake, wanting a better view of you, started to tug your shirt off. he already knew how to make you weak for him, sucking at your breasts.

every cry of protest you made fell on deaf ears, because all jake heard was that familiar breathlessness in your voice when he was making you feel good. 

and that was more than enough to jake. because if he had you, and you had him, nothing else mattered. why would you need some other guy in some faraway place when he had made you feel things you never knew you were even capable of?

he never even thought about how of those feelings he had plucked out of you, something could’ve completely overpowered any pleasant feelings you ever had.

it surprised you when jake grinded to a halt and pulled out of you, but you should’ve known better than to think he was finished. “get on top of me,” jake told you, overcome by memories. “i want you to ride me. like how you rode me that day.”

jake had this dazed look in his eyes that made him look more dangerous and unhinged than he ever had, and that was the sole reason you were so quick to scramble on top of him, but jake smiled, because he only saw it as unadulterated desire.

you grabbed his shoulders as you forced yourself to mount him, his hands slipping down to your backside, supporting you with his palms. it hadn’t been too long since they were someplace you could feel secure for the first time in a long while. and now that comfort was gone, and you had nowhere else to go, nothing else to turn to but yourself.

maybe you had been naive to think that someone could genuinely, truthfully like you. whatever jake felt for you, or at least thought that he did, was purebred obsession and without it there would be nothing left. 

it was the one thing keeping you breathing, and yet the one thing killing you slowly.

something wet dripped onto the pillar of jake’s shoulder and he saw that you were sobbing. tears of pleasure, he told himself. he remembered the wet glaze in your stare when the two of you had fucked the other day, too. nothing as theatrical as this, though he was certain it didn’t make a difference. 

but jake wasn’t afraid to hurt you, that much was clear. he may not have particularly liked it anymore than you did, but he would use it to justify everything. it’s okay if it hurts, because love hurts, he would console himself, telling himself that you would be okay.

“one day you’ll understand that i’m doing this because i want what’s best for us,” jake whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’ll make you happy every day until you die. anything you could ever want, i’ll make it happen, i promise.”

the way he spoke, you knew that he believed it in his very bones, and that only made it scarier. someway, somehow, jake had convinced himself that you were god walking, and now you weren’t sure what lengths he wouldn’t go to for your sake. 

tenderly kissing your jaw, jake continued, “i love you.”

you shook your head, knowing that it wasn’t true. “you can’t love me, jake. it’s only been five days.”

jake disagreed. he thought he had loved you from the second he laid eyes on you, a beautiful girl ambling along the creek line. he could smell your sweet scent on him and it made him remember catching you in his arms, pulling you close, and breathing you in for the first time. “i loved you long before i met you. you may not feel it right now, but you will soon. i’ll make sure of it.”

you exhaled a breath. there was no arguing with a mad man.

“i’ll make sure you’ll never want to live without me again,” jake whispered, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “that you can’t live without me.”

all you wanted was to get away from him. you were wishing you would’ve never came here, never gave him or this godforsaken place the time of day.

jake was nearing the threshold of what he could take and it was plain on his face. you weren’t fucking yourself on him with the same about of fervor as you had in the none too distant past, but he was too close to the edge to complain, driving his hips upwards into yours.

he was no longer listening to the pleas falling from between your lips, imagining that you were begging for him never to stop, never to let go of you. because he knew that deep down, that was what you wanted. you would get over these temporary, tiny frustrations. the same way he had gotten over them over and over.

did you think it was all fun and games for him? if you knew how many times he had been crushed and disappointed, how many times he had to let of something he wanted more than anything, you would finally understand that there nobody who understood you more than jake.

in a way, you were completing each other. he would give you the family you needed, and you would give him the relationship he always wanted.

“jake, you have to pull out,” you said to him, remembering he had gone in without a condom. “you have to…”

“shh,” jake shushed you, pressing your back to the mattress again, and seizing control.

when you tried to speak, jake just clamped his hand over your mouth to keep you silent and pliant, wanting to hear none of it. “didn’t i tell you? we’re going to build a family together, right here in this house.”

there was total, chaotic horror in your eyes. you hadn’t thought he meant so soon, so quickly. you were barely an adult and still sometimes felt like a child yourself, and you tried to tell him as much, but every word bled together and died on his palm.

with a few more unrelenting smacks of his hips into yours, jake leaned over and clamped his teeth into your shoulder as he came. and when he stilled, he kissed you, ignoring the taste of tears that had ran onto your lips.

“it’ll always be you and me now,” he panted, breathless. “you can’t leave me. you can’t.”

you lay there, helpless and hopeless, feeling something like bile scorching up your throat as you stared at him in disbelief.

“i’ll fuck you every day, i will,” jake said with every bit of conviction. “if it means that one of those days, i put a baby in you.”

there was nothing that you could say that your face wasn’t already saying for you. never in your life had you felt more used and violated, and that said a lot. 

and jake didn’t seem to be bothered. he lay down beside your shaking body, tightening his arms around you, loving the way the layers of sweat made you stick to each other, and made you a dirty promise. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you both,” he said. “i swear.”

you closed your eyes, screaming inside your head, but having none of the strength to really do it. he had stolen it from you, stolen everything from you. your body wasn’t your own anymore.

“say it,” jake prompted, nibbling gently at your neck. “say you love me.”

you didn’t, and there wasn’t a single bone in your body that did, but jake terrified you now. this would haunt you more than the gun pressed to your back, or the throwing your head underwater. compared to now, those things seemed mild.

so you sucked in a breath, trying to will yourself to stay still even though there was no possible way with how close he was to you, and you lied, “i love you.”

jake grinned from ear to ear. “i know.”

[keu-i]

ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE + MAKE-UP SEX !

pair: hyung line x f!reader warnings: pwp, smut, angst/arguing, hurt/comfort, bratty reader, they ’re a little mean sorryyy, punishments, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of crying, daddy kink, praising/degrading, thigh riding, fingering, size kink, piv, unprotected sex, oral (m. rec), breeding kink, cum swallowing words: 3.4k **NOT PROOFREAD**

I’M NEW HEREEE!! LMK WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS AND IF I SHOULD WRITE MORE STUFF LIKE THIS, THANKS <3

HEESEUNG —

“can we go to ‘phora after you finish?”

“no, sit down.” heeseung referred to you tugging on his shirt from behind. “why’re you moving around so much today?”

you provided a hum, quickly ending the conversation you just started. you’ve been sitting here all day, on this leathery brown sofa. you’d been needing to go to the beauty store to buy a new concealer since last week, and it’s been annoying you that you can’t go today as it seemed your boyfriend was practically almost done with this track he’s working on.

you sat on the far end of the couch, farthest from him. there’d been nobody in the studio as of now, he took a short break earlier but was barely spending any time with you. that in itself made you sorta upset, you craved his attention more than anything.

you were feeling like a burden to him by even being here, and he made it no better by not giving in to your demands. you knew he was doing something, but you hated when work inclined with your time with him— and you know it sounds extremely selfish, but it’s okay to be a little selfish sometimes…

“well can you hurry up??” “i kinda wanna go home.” you spoke up, the agitation overwhelming your tone.

“you can wait, but if you’re gonna have a fit, step out.” heeseung, was known for not putting up with any of your shit, no matter how much of a sweetheart he was. when it comes to his work he doesn’t really play around.

“i wasn’t gonna!” you poked your lip out, pouting.

“i can hear it in your voice, babe. don’t start, i'm busy; we’ll leave in a bit..” he put an end to the commotion you were about to start, he didn’t have the time do deal with your mellow drama. that was being only if he doesn’t have to fix it himself. and he knew just how to do that. all he has to do, is wait.

“ugh, okay. but hurry..”

. . .

you were still upset with heeseung about not going, and you had sparely spoken a word to him since the incident from earlier. but the guilt of it all was only eating him away inside, seeing your sulking state made him feel even worse and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“babe.. c’mere,” heeseung’s voice filled the quiet room, his tone much softer, a striking contrast from the way he acted hours ago.

you didn’t wanna give in so easily with him, not after he told you no when all you wanted was some new concealer.. you wanted to put up a little bit of a fight; but the minute he flashed that apologetic, doe- eyed look at you it was enough make you want to melt in a puddle. curse him for being so damn cute..

“m’sorry baby.. let me make it up to you,” he attempts to atone for his actions, caging his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, “we can go tomorrow if you want.. i’ll buy whatever you want pretty.” your body trembles the minute his lips find the soft spot of your neck, playing with the hem of your short skirt.

“mmh.. hee,” a tiny moan slips from your lips when his hands get closer to your core, a surge of heat rushing through. “oh gosh,”

his fingers swirl around your entrance, collecting your wetness, bringing it up to decorate your clit before dipping them back into your entrance. he looks up at you, a chuckle on his face, so cocky and arrogant. he swipes his middle harshly on your clit, you were feeling ecstatic, already on the verge of coming as he kept up his ministrations. you begin to gush on his fingers as you writhe your hips.

“fuck..” he groans. “you only get this wet for me, right baby?”

your eyes slightly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the slight pressure on your clit, your chest heaving, trying your hardest in collecting yourself. his palm slaps your pussy when you don’t answer him, and you whimper out a “y-yes..” quickly. he’s been doing this for what felt like hours and you swore you were going to pass out just from this alone.

he chuckles again, sounding like a curt scoff. pulling his lip between his teeth, you notice the look in his eyes, and you gulp. he pulls your thighs further apart, stretching.

you squeak at the stretch, your thighs are burning.

“stay still,” heeseung grunts out. “i don’t wanna make you cry right now, baby you know i hate that.”

heeseung takes both fingers into your pussy, scissoring them in and out of you. you watch as glob of his spit falls onto your clit as he smiles at the squelching sound of everything. your eyes rolled all the way back to your skull when you start to hear how messy it all is.

“baby.. you’re squirting,”

JAY —

“why do you keep pushing me away?” “can you not?” jay’s voice surpassed the boundary between calm and annoyed. he didn’t seem to understand you at all today. and it’s more of a problem that you refused to talk with him about any of it. all you continue to say is ‘nothing.’

“i’m not.. it’s just, really hot in here..” you exhaled, shifting your gaze to avoid direct eye contact with him.

“could’ve just said something, i’ll go turn the ac on.”

“no !” you pulled his arm almost dragging him back onto the couch. “i don’t want to turn it on.”

“what? aren’t you hot?” he blinked in confusion.

you nod.

“then why not..?”

“cause i don’ wanna!” you roll your eyes in discontent, by this point you were being unreasonably stubborn for no reason and jay was quite literally over your attitude you’ve been giving him all day.

“babe, i’ll either touch and hold you while it’s cold so you’re comfortable, or make you sweat like a bitch and not care.” “but you’re infront of me, i’m gonna touch you. i don’t care. so choose.” he eyed you, face calmed but holding so much emotion. confusion, anger, love. but it’s all just mixing up like a bowl of açaí and he can’t pick out which one he’s feeling right now.

“neither!” you retaliate, but to your demise, you got his cuddly wrath anyway.

“jay! get— hey!” you pushed and nudged but no hope. he wasn’t gonna let you go, felt like you needed comfort, but he couldn’t depict if it was just his instincts or not.

“ow!” you felt the weight of his body rise leaving you feeling like a light weight blob of mass. “y/n, did you just.. hit me?” his face, was all misshapen. a furrowed and betrayed look caping his features in like they were a precious jewel sworn to never see light of day.

“baby— i.. i didn’t mean it!” “it just happened..” you broke a huge no-no in your book. sworn to never put your hands on eachother in a vile way, that is unless consented. meaning, the two of you should never hit one another. look at you now, your stubborn little ass is in a huge mess.

“mhm, yeah” you watched as he left the couch the both of you once sat on together. now you’re sad, cold and alone, in the once hot area.

“jay, i’m serious, ’m sorry!”

“corner.”

“huh?..”

his hand cupped the back of your head, leading you to the nearest corner in the room, only for him to finish you off; shoving your face into the corner. “sit. and don’t move a damn inch. got it? mrs. y/n?”

“yes..” you sulked, look what you did, being a spoiled fucking brat. should’ve got over your little drama party when you had the chance. but look at you now.

“yes what?”

“yes daddy..?” your voice wobbled. the mere thought or feel of being in trouble is terrible. yet you saw through your punishment and done your vile actions.

“oh? good girl, finally using that mouth for what it’s worth. finally listening. over that pity party? huh?” he joked, a cackle bubbling from his throat as he walked away from your smaller being.

half an hour had passed and he’d left you there to reflect on your actions, but he knew he couldn’t keep you there alone for too long. instead, he’d much rather release each other’s frustrations by fucking it out— that always works in the end to resolve your differences, doesn’t it ..?

. . .

“jay, p-please slow down!” you stuttered, begging for mercy. eyes fluttering as you ride on top of his big cock. being on top with jay felt like nothing of the sort.

he still had all the control, his thickness sliding in and out, your juices leaking everywhere with each and every thrust; your entrance giving that tickling feeling that you knew all too well.

sometimes your boyfriend could be super soft and gentle with you, while other times he’d fuck you rough and mercilessly, leaving you completely dumb as you’re full of nothing but his cock. jay likes putting you on top just to fuck you like you were laying down.

he slows down just a liiittle bit... but not without leaving a light slap on your cheek. noticing the way you’re bringing your bottom lip into your mouth, tears streaming down your face. he coos at you, rubbing your thigh.

“sorry baby,” he pouts, gently rubbing your clit. “come closer.” you watch in confusion as he pants but you obey.

he pinches your cheeks with his right hand, squishing your face. you could smell your pussy wafting from his fingers. “you did soo well taking my cock,” jake hums at you proudly, “yeah? so tight.”

“do i get a reward for being good, daddy?” you mutter.

your boyfriend hums again, before tapping your cheek. you try opening your mouth knowing exactly what he wants. gazing into his eyes, you greedily stick your tongue out. he suddenly slams his cock back into you, making you gasp from the sudden fill.

“uh uh,” he says sternly. “keep your mouth open.”

you watch as he let’s a string of his spit fall right on your tongue.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

JAKE —

“does it really take that long to unlock a door?” your hands met your hips, knee at a bent degree, tips of your shoe tapping the ground. “i’m getting tired of standing here, c’mon!”

“does it take a lot for you to shut your pretty fuckin’ mouth?” “shit baby, what’s your problem today, you've been acting bratty the past few hours.” his key forcefully twisted into place, giving jake a satisfying click.

“nothing..” you quickly mutter.

“really? nothing?” “so, you’re being disrespectful for no reason?, don’t you know where that gets you?” his figure caged you between the passenger side door, eyes locked on yours. you knew you had no reason to be upset, and even knowing that, you were terrible angry.

“i’m speaking to you.”

“yes jake.. i know.”

“then get in the car and act fucking right.” he pulled you towards him, reaching out to open the door for you. “hear me?”

“good.” he closed after hearing a complying hum from you before reaching over your lap, buckling your seatbelt.

you honestly couldn’t stay mad at him, look at how he treats you even after he scolds you. a man everybody wants, but only you have. and you felt ungrateful, like you didn’t deserve him.

the real reason you were so upset in the first place was only because jake had wanted you to come to these dinner reservations he made with his friends and although you really did enjoy his friend’s company sometimes, you didn’t want to go anywhere.

all you wanted was to stay in and be with your boyfriend all day but instead you took your anger and frustration out on him— which only made you harbor more guilt inside.

the car ride went completely silent for the first ten minutes, then an idea sprang into your mind. why not show how sorry you were for your attitude by giving him some road head ? you’ve never tried it before, but there’s a first time for everything you suppose. plus, you genuinely felt remorseful, and there wasn’t a more perfect way of apologizing than doing that in your opinion.

. . .

“hpmh,—” your lips kiss his pinkish-red tip, when you unzipped his pants to expose his hard on, a small bead of pre-cum leaked out. dipping your tongue out to lick it up, his cock flinching at any slight stimulation. “babe— yes! fuck..”

opening your mouth wider to take his full length, your eyes began watering when the end of his shaft hits the back of your throat. “look at you, already taking it all.. look so fucking hot like that with your mouth full of my cock.” his hand gripping hard onto the steering wheel, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling hard as he forces more of himself down your throat.

you gag and choke a bit from his hips rutting into you, but that doesn’t stop you from sucking his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do on earth. giving all your efforts to please him, looking up with bright big eyes while you deepthroat. your pussy was uncomfortably wet, you could feel your slick leaking on your thighs. moaning as you continue bobbing your head up and down, feeling him throbbing in your warm mouth from the sensations.

“yeah baby… just like that keep going.. fuck…” jake wanted to swing his head back from the pleasure so badly, but he had to focus on the road.. pulling your hair tighter as he feels himself getting close.

you could sense he was close too by his erratic movements, and you know exactly how to get him to cum. collecting more saliva as much as you could to make it even sloppier, some of it almost dripping from the corners of your mouth as you keep going. he felt like the end was nearing for him, he grunts loudly, bucking his hips up in a frenzy.

“shit- ’m gonna come… you better swallow of all of it like a good fucking girl.” you nod, feeling him pulsate even more in your mouth, humming around the base of his length as you send him to a higher state of pleasure. the back of your throat gets hit with shots of hot cum, milking every last bit of him until you know for sure he’s done. “you really have no idea what you do to me y/n, do you?” he pants while trying to catch his breath, wanting to look down at the beautiful mess he’s created.

“i swallowed it all daddy, look.” you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue to show him it was all empty.

“that’s my good girl,” jake praises you, quickly glancing down to see you looking all lazy and defeated. he wanted to say to hell with it and skip the plans, turn back around just so he could fuck you. there’s no way he’d able to last more than an hour without having his cock buried inside of you..

SUNGHOON —

an hour, a whole god damn hour, you were being completely ignored, concealing all your tiny sobs. you were sorry for your actions, hell, even sorry for yourself, but also sorry for your boyfriend, the man who had to put up with all of your brattiness.

today you just decided to chose violence and pick a fight with your boyfriend for absolutely no reason other than you just felt like it. but now you were paying the consequences of those actions by his silent treatment he gave you. when he’d finally noticed you’ve been crying, he couldn’t hold anymore of this little grudge against you, he couldn’t see you like that no matter what.

your thought process was cut off once you felt a warm compress on your back. making you bawl your eyes out even more.

“babe, what are you crying for?”

“i don’t know.. i’m—”

“you’re sorry?” his hands caressed your sides, his mouth kissing along your shoulder. “i know baby. it’s okay.”

“did i leave you alone for too long?” he pulled you further into his build by your waist, cupping you in his hold. his tough demeanor shrinking to bits once he saw your puffy, red eyes.

“no..” you quickly turned to wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling yourself into his embrace. you can’t believe how sunghoon deprived you were for just an hour. the hold this man had on you..

“you wanna tell me what happened today?” “or no?” he added, hearing nothing in reply.

“maybe later..?” “i miss you.”

“i miss you too babe, i just don’t like when you act that that. i feel neglected, like you can’t open up to me.”

“i know.. i’m sorry, i just didn’t feel good today..” you retracted your nuzzle from the crook of his neck.

“just one of those days?” “you know i won’t ever know what’s wrong unless you tell me, right?”

you hummed. “yes, but.. i don’t know i was just being selfish and i took it all out on you..”

“you’re a really good girl, baby, i love you okay? you don’t have to ever close yourself off with me. ‘kay?”

“mkay..” you reached for a kiss in which he gratefully returned.

“baby.. well, maybe.., did you check yourself?” he cautiously approached the upcoming topic. he could feel parts of his sweats sticking to his skin like rice cake on a hot day. and he had a feeling that your attitude wasn’t just an attitude.

“what do you mean..?” your brows furrowed at the random question displayed before you.

“you know, like.. are you on?”

“my period?” he hummed in response to answer.

“noo..? i checked earlier.. plus i didn’t feel any paining.. or any symptoms like usual..”

he nods at your reassurance, knowing how cranky you can get when it’s close to that time of the month. that’s when everything shifted, you were suddenly pulled onto his lap and kissing him roughly on the couch, his hands exploring each and every inch of your body. you knew exactly how this was gonna end— you being completely ruined by the end of this night.

. . .

“babe, you’re fucking squeezin’ me.” sunghoon groaned, gripping the sides of your hips in a tight manner. “pussy still begging for more, huh?”

“please hoonie..” you whined at the friction of his cock colliding with yours perfectly, feeling every ridge and vein. like his cock was made just for you. “want it so bad..”

he wasted no time in burying himself deeper inside you, in all honesty he wanted you no more than you wanted him. he needed you the most right now. the fact that he’d spent so long ignoring you today because of his stubborn, selfish actions left him feeling more than guilty, and he was going to show you just how much he wants you.

sunghoon’s hand pressed on your stomach with every stroke he landed in you. every curve his length went through to touch your G. “fuck..” he landed a sharp slap onto your tits.

you couldn’t help but grind your hips back up against him. a tense burning sensation sprawling throughout your whole body. it make you urge for more, like nothing was enough, even though you were in pure bliss. you were nothing but a mewling, shrieking mess.

“hoon! ugh, please ruin me..hmm please..” your arms reached up, grasping around his neck.

“you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know?” he airly chuckled throwing he head back. the feel of your slick creating sticky vines across his skin whenever he’d pull out. the sound of it, the look of it. all of it turning him on even more.

your back arched at the thought of maxing out around his thick shaft. the praise you’ll get since you’ve done so well for him.

“i love you..” you mumbled bittersweet nothings one after another.

“shit, loosen the fuck up.” his hands entangled your sweaty hair gripping it in a careful but aggressive manner. “fuck, i’m gonna come.” he began to thrust into your messy cunt relentlessly, pounding you into oblivion.

“hoon— mm’nside please..!” you slurred, drool heaping out the corner of your mouth.

“inside? huh? you want my babies, princess?” “you do, don’t you? want me to fill your fucking pussy with my seed.” sunghoon chuckled at your pleading. he was tired as hell, but soo turned on by you, by the thought of you bearing his children.

“’es yes, yes hoon!”

“whatever you want, baby.” his length pumped into you filling you up, not an empty fucking crevice in your soppy cunt.

“thank you.. daddy.. ”

[noonecareslol]

࣪˖ ִ ೀ 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader

Summary: When the games aren’t in session, and In-ho is lonely, he finds himself in the first row at the ballet. Watching you. Suddenly he's falling in love.

TW: Channeling my love for older men. Injury. Reader lowkey gets sad for a sec. Age gap (reader is 25 In-ho is 49). Just FLUFF! In-ho learning how to love someone again. Quite literally head over heels for you. Allusions to masturbation. Size kink if you squint.

WC! 5k

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It is quite obvious that In-ho is an old soul.

He enjoys old films, old clothing, old theatre, and old music. The little jazz set that plays, “Fly Me To The Moon” is a cherished possession of his, along with his vintage whiskey decanter.

He wears a musky cologne he’d been gifted by his late wife, and his closet is lined with leather dress shoes and perfectly pressed slacks. His dimly lit room on the island is vastly similar to the one in his Seoul apartment, everything perfectly neat and clean.

Yes, In-ho is an old soul.

And in between the games, when he would return to Seoul, he’d find himself bored. Especially during the night. He’d miss his wife, the whispered hope of a promised future.

Often he would distract himself by putting his whiskey decanter to good use, pouring the aged whiskey into his glass over and over again. He would linger by his shelf full of movies he’d seen hundreds of times, tracing his fingers along the cases until he landed on a title. A small smile would play on his lips before popping it into the DVD player and taking a seat next to his beloved cat.

He would find himself mumbling the lines as the actors spoke them on screen, his hand absentmindedly petting his cat. When the movie is over, and the quiet resumes, he’d move to his bedroom.

He’d ensure his cat followed before changing into his expensive pajamas and climbing into the king-sized bed. His cat would join him and he would drift to sleep, dreaming of, well, nothing.

He would close his eyes and wake up without any dream having occupied his mind.

This routine became comfortable. Each night he would get home from whatever he’d been doing before, drink, watch a movie, play with his cat, and sleep without any dreams.

But this night, this night was different.

It was a cold night. And all In-ho wanted to do was drown in glasses of whiskey and watch “Dial ‘M’ For Murder” with his cat.

But as he walked past a line of people waiting to enter a theatre, a poster caught his attention. He blinked once, twice, before walking toward the lit-up frame.

A strikingly beautiful ballerina caught his attention first. She held her arms elegantly above her head, her leg pointed behind her, her other leg resting on pointe as she looked to the side. She was breathtaking.

The Seoul Ballet Company Presents: Swan Lake

Opening Night November 1st

Suddenly the thought of whiskey and Alfred Hitchcock left his mind as he joined the line. I mean, who would miss out on opening night?

Especially when the lead was so pretty.

“We have one ticket left in the front row.” The woman behind the ticket booth clicked her pen unenthusiastically as she watched In-ho pull his leather vintage wallet out of his coat pocket.

A grin rested plainly on his lips as he fiddled with his cash, “That’s perfect. How much?”

The woman slowly turned and punched a few numbers into her register before turning back to him, “80,000 won.” She clicked her pen again.

“Do you have change for 100,000?” He held the two 50,000 won in front of him, watching as she stared at him blankly.

She blinked once before snatching the bills from his hands, “Nope!” In-ho sighed. For someone so slow she took those bills awfully fast.

In-ho drew his lips into a thin line before taking the ticket and placing it in his wallet, “Thanks.”

“Yeah enjoy the show or, like, whatever.” The woman took out her phone and began to text as he walked away, obviously not giving a shit about her job.

But as In-ho walked through the double doors, his breath caught in his throat. The theatre certainly did not disappoint his love for old architecture.

The large barrel vaulted ceilings were beautifully ornamented and adorned with intricately painted designs. Gorgeous crown molding edged the ceiling and stretched to the floor. And a large crystal chandelier rested as the centerpiece, warmly lit and inviting.

In-ho took his seat, a smile evident on his lips as he sighed contently. However, he hoped his cat wasn’t too worried about his whereabouts. Maybe she could come along next time? She is a very sophisticated cat, after all.

As the chandelier and house lights began to dim, the crowd became quiet with anticipation and excitement. And it would be dishonest to say that In-ho wasn’t a little excited as well.

He looked to his left at the woman sitting next to him. She was a small elderly lady with a pair of glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Her eyes were filled with excitement as she scanned through the pamphlet, a wide smile plastered on her face.

She wore a vintage necklace around her neck, layered with pearls. In-ho smiled, it was nice to see someone who also had a knack for old taste.

The soft notes of Swan Lake began to play, and In-ho watched as the curtains opened, revealing the beautifully decorated stage. Large trees with hanging vines arched over the set, greenery and flowers blending into the painted backdrop.

A foggy mist flooded the stage as dancers began to move elegantly across. But the lead had yet to make an appearance.

In-ho watched rather impatiently, and failed to notice the woman next to him lean in, “Right now, the prince is going hunting with his crossbow. But he will find that the white swan has turned into a beautiful woman, and has fallen under a curse.” The old woman pointed slightly to the prince, her voice whispering just loud enough for him to hear.

His eyes trained on the prince as he danced with his crossbow, “Thank you. I must look confused.”

The old lady gave a small laugh, “I used to dance for this company, i’ll never miss an opportunity to explain the ballet.”

In-ho watches as she subtly mimics the prince's moves, her hands moving elegantly in front of her. Her eyes were closed, the sound of the music bringing emotion to her face.

Her eyes flick open as the music changes softly, “Look.” Her eyes lighting up as she nods slightly to the stage.

In-ho watches as you finally take the stage, fluttering your feet as you move elegantly toward the prince. Your hands held high above your head, moving gracefully as you bourrée.

He watched as your back muscles contracted, moving as if you had wings. His eyes trained down to your legs and to your pointe shoes, watching as you danced with ease.

Your white feathered skirt moved along with you, the bodice elegantly framing you perfectly. The feathered piece in your hair catches In-ho’s attention, causing him to study your face.

That poster was nothing compared to your beauty.

You held a soft look, but In-ho didn’t fail to notice the focus that caused your eyebrows to furrow slightly. Your movements were soft and graceful, your demeanor innocent and melancholic.

You were perfect as the white swan.

You were perfect.

He wondered if you were just as innocent as you portray yourself to be, “God, she’s beautiful.”

The elderly woman hummed in agreement as she watched In-ho’s gaze remain sharp on the white swan, an all-knowing smile spread across her lips.

As the ballet continued it seemed that the rest of the audience had disappeared. In-ho felt as if you were only dancing for him. No one else.

He swore you looked at him a few times, him being the focus point of your graceful turns.

And when you transitioned into the black swan, all thoughts in In-ho’s head became dark.

Oh, how he liked this side of you.

Your movements were sharp, determined, and seductive. And he found himself adjusting in his seat as his slacks became increasingly tight. You were so close to him. Just a few feet from his touch as you danced on stage. He could take you right now. He could fuck you, make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

And as you leaped on the stage, the white swan jumping to her death, In-ho felt a tear slip from his eye. You were magnificent.

The audience filed out of the theatre, fanning themselves with their pamphlets and discussing the ballet. You had received a standing ovation, and In-ho took pride in being the first one to stand and clap.

He had finally caught your attention. And when you locked eyes with him as you bowed, you felt your brain turn to mush.

He was handsome. Like, extremely handsome.

His face was perfectly chiseled. His eyes crinkled as he flashed a perfect smile, his hair slightly falling in front of his face and covering his dark eyes.

You didn’t blink once as you remained under his gaze, and it wasn’t until another dancer pulled you up that you realized you were bowing for far too long.

You avoided his eye contact as you walked off, embarrassed he had made you turn into putty just by his stare.

And as In-ho exited the theatre, he took his time lingering by the lamp post. He’d secretly hoped to see you leave.

He doesn’t know what he would say if he did see you. Maybe he would compliment you, or ask you a meaningless question. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d push you against the lamppost, and let his desire consume you.

He’d just wait a little bit longer.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

30 minutes.

The woman from behind the ticket booth locked the door as she brought down the metal gate, “Excuse me, did the woman who danced as the white swan leave yet?”

She turned around smacking her gum, “Yeah. Why?” She sized him up, placing a hand on her hip as she cocked an eyebrow.

In-ho felt his face flush, “I was just going to compliment her.” He put his cold hands in the pockets of his coat, shifting his weight onto his other foot.

“Yeah well,” The woman smacks her gum as she walks up towards In-ho, handing him a flier, “They have open practice every Friday. Tickets are only 10,000 won.”

He took the flier from her hand, folding it and sliding it into his pocket, “Thanks.” She nodded her head and walked past him, slipping into her jacket.

In-ho turned and started his walk to his apartment only a block away. When he arrived, he heard the familiar sound of meowing by his front door.

And as he opened the door, he came face to face with his cat waiting on the couch, “I’m sorry Elisabeth, but I’m too tired for a movie tonight.”

She gave an annoyed meow before reluctantly following him into his room, hopping onto the pillow beside his. In-ho got dressed in his pajamas, ready for another dreamless night as he slipped into the sheets next to Elisabeth.

But this time, it wasn't dreamless.

In fact, he had dreamed a very vivid dream.

He had dreamt of you.

And as In-ho woke up the next morning, his hand immediately went to his nightstand, picking up the flier.

It seems that the pretty ballerina has stolen his heart.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Plié! Ron de jambe, retiré! Good!" You held your arms in front of you, your right leg coming up at a bend, "Pas de chat, écarté! Don't rush it, Fiona!"

Your ballet teacher weaved between you and the other students, her tight bun sitting perfectly on her pointed head, "Développé, demi-pointe! No! Not pointe, demi pointe!"

Her thick French accent bellowed throughout the theatre, "Good y/n! Très bien!" A wide smile painted your lips as you continued your dance, your friend Fiona rolling her eyes at your praise. You giggled as you went into second, your arms outstretched to the side.

"Well done! Take a water break and stretch, we'll take five." You brought your hands to your knees, leaning over slightly as you caught your breath.

Fiona dramatically flopped on her back, a hand coming to her forehead as she breathed heavily, "I've died, she's killed me." You tossed her water bottle into her hand with a laugh as you sat next to her, your eyes scanning the theatre.

Familiar faces met your eyes. Elderly couples, former dancers, and little kids with their moms. Oh! And the man who you haven't stopped thinking about.

Wait.

You hit Fiona's shoulder hard, not taking your eyes off him, "Fiona. Fiona, look." She sat up, holding her shoulder as her eyes trailed to where you were subtly pointing.

"Oh, it's the hot dilf." Fiona took a drink from her bottle, watching as In-ho looked around while taking in the architecture.

You slapped her shoulder again, "Shut up! What if he hears you?" You get up from the ground, pulling Fiona up with you and tossing your water bottle back into your bag.

She followed suit, taking one last drink before tossing it in her own, "First off, stop hitting me. It's abuse." You rolled your eyes as you both took your spot by the barre, "Second, he's in the back corner of the theatre, he's not hearing shit. Except for our teacher's constant yelling."

You didn't respond, instead, you continued looking at him. His black turtle neck sweater hugged his biceps perfectly, and you didn't fail to notice his empty finger where a ring would sit.

"Okay! Lets continue! Tendu, plié! Ron de jambe, plié!"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It had been two months since In-ho first started spending his Fridays pining over you.

Each Friday, he would come home, change into an outfit he had dry-cleaned and pressed, feed Elisabeth, and head to the Theatre. He would take his spot in the far left corner, and watch as you danced and laughed with your friends.

He found himself looking forward to Fridays. Which is strange, because he's never looked forward to anything before. Well, besides the games. But he had been so focused on you, that he had fallen behind on his work. Something he'd never done before.

You plagued his mind.

He dreams of you. When he's asleep and awake. He'd find himself walking by the Theatre on other days when you were practicing, hoping to see a glimpse of you.

He found himself listening to Etta James and Nat King Cole more often than not. 'A Sunday Kind Of Love' and 'Unforgettable' filing his apartment as he cooked his dinners. 'My Fair Lady' and 'Gone With The Wind' replacing his classic mystery movies.

He even found himself stopping by flower boutiques, smelling the tulips and Orchids. He wonders what your favorite flower is. Perhaps it is Lilies, the flower that represents innocence and purity.

He wondered a lot if you were a virgin. Often imagining the feeling of your body under his large one late at night when he can't sleep, and when his hand finds itself under his pants.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you didn't even know it.

Vice Versa, you found yourself looking forward to Fridays as well.

It was the only day you could see the stranger who you had been thinking about constantly.

You liked his style, the way he carried himself with a confidence that intimidated you. His large frame towered over everyone, and he stood out from the crowd. He was perfect. It was as if god himself sculpted him with his own hands.

And oh my god.

You were down bad.

Fiona constantly teased you about it. Making fun of how you stopped wearing your loose cover-up, "Im just hot, that's all Fiona. It's warm in here." You lied. And Fiona was obviously aware of that.

You started offering to stay late with your teacher and help clean up, hoping to catch the stranger before he left. But your teacher always insisted you should go home and rest, and who were you to disobey her.

You've always been perfect. At school, at dance, at everything. When auditions came for Swan Lake, there was no question in anyone's mind about who would get the lead.

But since opening night, things have been slightly different. You often got distracted during practice, your eyes always finding the man in the back corner. You started falling out of your turns, forgetting to bring your pointe shoes, and, worse of all, you had been forgetting to point your toes.

And here you were. Walking to the center of the stage, ready to run through your variation in front of everyone. It was an easy variation, but the end was complicated. You had to do several pirouettes, which you have always been good at. But today you decided to test yourself.

You knew your teacher was becoming increasingly disappointed in you, it plagued your every thought. So, as you spun perfectly, you decided to see how many pirouettes you could perform.

17, 18, 19, 20.

Your leg is wobbling, but you choose to ignore it.

21, 22, 23-

You hear Fiona call your name as your foot slips out of pointe, twisting as you fall on top of it, "Oh my god!" The sickening sound of your ankle cracking causes your heart to drop. The stinging feeling of tears replaced by the overwhelming pain that was now shooting up your leg.

Everyone huddles around you as the teacher runs to call an ambulance, but Fiona kneels at your side, "I know this isn't the right time but, the dilf is running over here right now."

You close your eyes, trying to control your rapid breathing. You wished the stage would open around you and swallow you whole, just put you out of your misery.

In-ho jumps with ease onto the stage, his sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbow, "Move." He pushes past the dancers huddling over you and grabs your face.

Your eyes flick open at the feeling of warm hands pressed against your cheeks. Oh my god, he was holding your face. Your heart fluttered but you didn't notice, you were too worried about the fact that your ankle was bent the wrong way.

In-ho's hand softly brushes over your ankle, causing you to wince. At first, he's skeptical about touching you. Was it too fast? Too sudden? Too bold?

But he didn't have time to think it over as he put his strong arms under you, lifting you gently as he stood. Fiona watched with a smirk on her face as she saw shock fill your eyes, his biceps flexing as he pulled you close to his chest.

Without a word, In-ho steps down from the stage and carries you through the exit, "I have an ambulance coming!" Your teacher ran after him yelling, her typically neat bun somewhat loose and frizzy now.

In-ho motions to his pocket and Fiona responds, grabbing his car key and unlocking his Mercedez-benz, "It will take too long. I'll drive her."

For a split second, you catch his eye, and you could've sworn to god your pain disappeared for a moment. And if it were a different circumstance, In-ho would kiss you. He would kiss you right here with you in his arms.

But the shared look was short-lived as he very carefully sets you in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt gently. Your ballet teacher leans down to the window, "Don't worry! Fiona can dance for you!"

Your heart shattered.

And tears began to flood. You ignored In-ho's words of reassurance as he took off, speeding to the hospital. The drive was quiet except for your soft cries. And In-ho wanted nothing more than to cradle you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Im sorry im getting your car dirty." You looked at the tear-stained headrest you laid against, wiping your sore eyes with the back of your hand.

In-ho cuts a car off as he turns, ignoring the beeps from the angry driver, "It's okay. I have another one." The subtle money brag wasn't missed by you. In-ho just wanted to impress you.

"What are you? Like a CEO or something?" You turned to face him, giving a pitiful sniffle as he gave another sharp turn.

He chuckled, and you felt your heart beat faster. Was it because of the adrenaline? Or was it because the man whom you've become obsessed with is quite literally acting like your night in shining armor, "Im... Im a game show host."

You nodded, an impressive smile growing on your face, "That's cool. Im y/n by the way."

He flashes a smile, the same smile from the night you first saw him, and a blush creeps up on your tear-stained cheeks, "You're sitting there, with a fucked up ankle, and you're making small talk?"

You suddenly feel embarrassed. He's just some random guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time, nothing more. "Sorry. Just trying to distract myself."

In-ho frowns. Did he say the wrong thing? His grip tightens on the steering wheel, "No! Don't be sorry. If I'm being honest, I've been dying to know your name."

His eyes flick to you before looking back in front of him, "Im Hwang In-ho." A small smile creeps onto his lips as he pulls to a stop in front of the ER.

"Well, Mr. Hwang, it's nice to meet you."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Well, it looks like you have a fracture." You give a long exasperated sigh as the Doctor holds up the X-rays, "The fibula is fractured below the level of the syndesmosis, which is the joint between the tibia and fibula."

You look at In-ho, who, for some reason, seems more stressed than you do, "What's the healing process like? Will she need surgery?" Your head snapped to the doctor at the mention of surgery. Surgery for dancers is like a death sentence.

No. More. Dancing.

"Fractures like these are considered stable, meaning that they are unlikely to worsen with correct treatment and management. You'll just need to wear a boot for a while." The doctor noticed how your concerned look didn't falter, and gave a sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder, "You can still dance."

The breath you were holding escapes your lips as you feel a heavy weight fall off your shoulders, "Thank you so much." The doctor rubs your shoulder before leaving, instructing the nurse to fit you for a boot.

In-ho watches as you close your eyes, a smile resting on your face. He cocked his head, how could you be so beautiful in a moment like this? His eyes take a minute to trail down your body, taking you in, something he's grown fond of doing.

Your hair is a mess, your cheeks are red and tear-stained, your ankle looks like a snapped twig, and you're picking at your cuticles. But god.

You are perfect.

Just as beautiful now as you were months ago.

An unfamiliar feeling has taken over his chest ever since he saw you. A tightening, warm feeling that he hasn't felt in years. At first, he ignored it. Maybe it was just heartburn? But as it progressed, he got worried. The next thing you know a doctor is laughing in his face.

Calling it 'love'.

In-ho immediately left after he heard that, making sure to write a very passive-aggressive review on Yelp. What doctor diagnosed a patient with 'being in love'?

In-ho was not in love.

...

...

Right?

It wasn't until he watched 'Funny Face' that he realized the estranged doctor was correct. The moment Fred Astaire saw Aubrey Hepburn and was immediately captivated by her beauty, he knew it was true.

He didn't care that he was more than twenty years older than you, or that he had bigger things to worry about, all he cared about was you.

And that made him so confused.

You had managed to captivate his heart, soul, and body. And he felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. So as he saw you look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, he couldn't help what happened next.

He stood from his chair, taking large steps towards your frame. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him stand between your legs, careful not to hit your ankle.

His big hands reach down and grab your face, slamming your lips into his own. Your eyes grow wide, confusion flashing across your face before slowly giving in, pulling his head down lower.

His touch was gentle, the opposite of his kiss. His hands softly caressed your red cheeks, while his lips hungrily chased after your own.

You tugged at the baby hairs that rested on the back of his neck, desire and hunger feeding off you as he slipped his tongue into your pretty mouth. A low growl escaped his swollen lips, and you felt arousal begin to pool between your thighs.

You whine as he removes his hand from your face and steps back, crossing his arms. His gaze has always been intimidating. But now that he's seen you fall on your ass, cry, and melt under his touch all in one day, it is much more intimidating.

You've been vulnerable in front of him. Something you could never do before. But you didn't care if he saw your flaws, you were perfect to him.

He saw a future when he looked at you. He saw a family, something he had longed for many years ago. He saw hope, love, and promise.

He saw you.

Beautiful, perfect, irresistible you.

And as he looked at you, only one question entered his mind.

"Do you want to meet my cat?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

a/n: chat. its 2 am. but i am DETERMINED to post this. i just love you guys sm mwah mwah. also, wasn't in a smut mood. still getting used to writing smut LMAO.

also random disclaimer: i have never done ballet. so if any terms are wrong or if my spelling is trash PLS LMK!

@bohemiandelilah @menabuser16 @verouys @speedymagazinewhispers @metalbaby2 @nellabear @marymun @orihime188 @nanascupid @fnl9zer @chasinghxran @crystalizia @auspicious-lilana @machipyun @cdej6 @namelesslosers

[thecoochiefairy]

baby phat. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.K word count. blackfem!reader, pregnant!fem reader/kink, drabble, onyankopon, grumpy!onyankopon, sweet!onyakopon, dominant!onyankapon, masturbation, phone/facetime sex, vaginal penetration, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, kinda aggressive dirty talk, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ my brain is foggy from real life so just wanted to give y’all a lil something to leave you hot and bothered. if i gotta suffer, you do too. love you.

THE SCENT OF CASHMERE VANILLA, COCOA BUTTER AND BROWN SUGAR WAS WHAT YOU USUALLY WOKE UP TO. Unfortunately, that scent was missing within the bed. You sat up tiredly as you took a deep breath, raising your fingers over the smooth swell of your belly—you were now eight months pregnant, and your husband wasn’t home as much as you wanted him to be.

With a sigh, you pull yourself out of bed to prepare for the day. Onyankopon had been in contract with the New Orleans Saints for only a couple of months now. Becoming pregnant was an accident—but spending the rest of your life with him wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You’d practically traveled to every part of the state to be there with him for games—a baby wasn’t too far along after. 

The only unfortunate part of this situation was his absence. With him just being signed, he was around the state with press conferences, practices, essentially in the hazing part of his successes. You were happy for him as you knew this was all he wanted, but you missed him, and so did the baby growing inside your belly. 

Thankfully, you did have the support of his mom, who was there for you as if you were her own daughter. She was there to help you with your daily routine—feeding Ony’s two large Dobermans since she was terrified of dogs, going with you to your ultrasound for the day, and dragging you into every store she saw with infant clothes. You enjoyed your time with her—but you still missed Onyankopon. 

It’s not like the two of you didn’t communicate. You had your ways. Texting when he wasn’t busy, phone and video calls into the night, pictures of daily activities, or all of those options in more…intimate times. It opened up a new exploration of your relationship as you were more shy to the nastier suggestions, but as more time was spent away from him, you’d do anything to show how much you missed him. 

Speaking of, it was your favorite time of the day. Your daily phone call with him was closer to the evening time, the sun beginning to set within the state of Louisiana. He was only a couple of hours away as they were in Mississippi, days away from preparing to play their kick off game against Ole Miss—but it felt like he was across the country at this point. 

You adjust the bow that ties against the halter of your yellow sun dress, silver cross sat between the swell of your breasts and constantly hardened nipples due to your hormones. You were going for a more natural route with your hair, flip-over sew-in under midnight black curls, dragging all the way down your back, framing your flushed and freckles cheeks. 

You back yourself up a bit as you’re seated within the master bedroom, blood red IMAC brightening against your caramel skin, camera reflecting back at you as the call rang. When it connected, you were met with the familiarity of his hotel room—seeing as the room was slightly dim, the TV’s light against his brown skin, full lips even more delectable through the grainy camera. His durag protects his hair, goatee connected perfectly, jawline prominent under his stoic gaze. He was edible. 

You wave, “Hi, baby! Can you see me?”

“I can,” he mused. 

His deep timbre voice was comforting as he greeted, “Hey, my pretty ass baby. Look at you,” His eyes flickered over your face, breasts, and your swollen belly, making your thighs press together, “How you’ feeling?”

You sigh, pulling your hair behind your ear, “I’m okay. You’ like my dress?” 

Your voice was soft, already feeling the tiniest bit insecure as you’d just gotten back into form fitting clothes. You’d cried as your body changed in the earlier months.

Onyankopon smirks, shifting on the chair where his knees spread, “Pretty as fuck, Mama. Bout’ to bust that shit open with all that ass,” he grunts, which makes you giggle as he continues, “I miss you.”

“I miss you more, baby,” you exhale, trying not to make yourself upset, “You need to come home soon. Your big ass wolves that you call dogs are scaring your mom.”

“Oh? Now they’ my dogs. You ain’t say all that when you wanted them,” he retorts, licking over his lips.

Your eyes follow the movement of his tongue as you shift on the chair. He looked handsome as ever. You can’t help but stare at his full lips, the small dimple in his cheek, and the dark hue of his eyes as he leans towards the computer desk, pulling out rolling paper as he prepares to roll a blunt. You weren’t sure why, but it was always the sexiest thing to watch.

You blink as your eyes scan the screen, clearing your throat a bit as you raise an eyebrow, “They’ ain’t drug testing y’all?”

Onyankopon shrugs, “It’s preseason, Baby,” he murmurs as he begins to break down the tree on the rolling paper, “Besides, all I’m doing is smoking. That ain’t so bad.”

“Mhm,” you roll your eyes, “Well you better cut that ain’t so bad habit before our little Pumpkin comes,” you run your fingers over your belly.

Your eyes run across his mouth as he licks over his joint, sealing the end, “Don’t call him that shit. That’s my son,” he grabs for his lighter, “My lil’ man been kickin’?”

“Your lil’ football player has been punting in my damn stomach,” you blow out a breath, “He’s moving down to my bladder. If he shifts anymore, imma’ need a walker.”

Your fingers grip around the cross hanging between your breasts, “…You’re my Pumpkin too, y’know.”

A chuckle leaves Onyankopon as he brings his freshly lit joint to his lips, inhaling as he holds off the urge to laugh. A cloud of gray leaves his lips as he blows. 

“He gon’ have my long ass legs.” 

His eyes flicker up momentarily from the screen, making it fog, “You my pumpkin, too,” he replies, exhales into the camera. 

You didn’t want to interrupt as you watched him—the haze of his red eyes already becoming apparent. He’s sexy. Fuck.

Your fingers absentmindedly trail along your belly, feeling your cheeks become warm as you bring your eyes down. You ask softly, “How was practice?”

"We got a new tight end, nigga think he somebody. But besides that, same ol'. Just drills and shit really,” He banters, shifting forward in his chair as he stares up at you, "You know I'm bored as hell right now, Mama." 

You could see the haze in his eyes grow as he slowly takes another hit of his joint—Uh oh. 

You narrow your eyes, curls swaying over your shoulder, “Oh, am I boring you?”

"You?” 

Onyankopon leans back against the chair, exhaling into the computer. He grins a bit as the camera is engulfed in smoke, "Nah. You could never, baby.” 

You watch him with curious eyes as he shifts in the chair, groaning slightly which makes your mind wander—The only thing you could see was his face, shoulders, chest and what you could assume to be his stomach. He wears a white long sleeve, clinging to his muscular frame. You knew all the tattoos that hid under his top. But something was under the computer table…

You give him a soft, awkward smile. You know how he got when he was high. This was your husband, yet he made you nervous like a schoolgirl. 

You then say, “Oh!” Standing as you search for your purse, ass directly within the camera as you question, “I got the ultrasound photos, baby! Wanna see?”

Your husband hums, low and deep as he says back to you, “Mhm,” You feel his lustful eyes on the screen, “Come show me.” 

Your hands tremble as you search, almost excited for him to see the photos. Or maybe you were just nervous—again. 

You drop the brown Telfar on the side of the desk, it only takes you three steps to be in front of your computer again, holding the black and white printout up to the screen. 

You can hear a faint laugh as Onyankopon murmurs once again, “Bring it closer, girl.”

You fully sit down again, leaning forward as you point your acrylic nail against the sonogram, “See, that’s his little toesss, and that’s his little fingers!” you giggle, “You see?”

Onyankopon’s face breaks out into a smile as he groans slightly, “Goddamn. I lied, he got my fingers. Musta’ got your toes, Mama. Can’t see ‘em too good.”

You hum, “Guess he won’t be too good for basketball then,” you tease.

Onyankopon snorts at that as he says, “Basketball she says— You know what? Just ‘cause you said that, he’s not playin no sport. Imma’ get lil’ man his own studio.”

You giggle a bit at that, “My child ain’t finna’ be no damn rapper. You can kill that thought.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s gonna’ be a singer. Got your pretty ass voice, I know it.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ just flirting, boy. Cut it out.”

Onyankopon chuckles at that, but he doesn’t deny it. His eyes fall back to that serious gaze he had before, a soft tint of red within them.

“You’ got me thinking about you.”

His voice, it’s almost like it’s own way of peer pressure. Your hands run over your belly anxiously as you blink, “Me?”

"Yeah,” Your husband draws out, eyes flickering up and down the screen in anticipation, “Don't play all shy.”

You can see him shift in the chair as he leans back, and his eyes stare back at the screen. You can tell he was waiting for something.

At the same time, your body becomes…significantly warm. Before he was signed, you and Onyankopon had sex almost every single day. You couldn’t get enough of each other, never did. Your mind flashes to those memories, and your thighs rub together a bit. At the same time, the door to the master bedroom opens, allowing you to exhale for a second. 

Gray curls come into view, brown skin and familiar eyes that belonged to your mother-in-law. She held a bowl of food with a smile. 

She walked towards the camera, “Hey, Honey-Bun, you alright in here? I made you some jambalaya—“

She pauses, looking towards her son on the camera as her eyes immediately narrow, “I know your big headed ass better put that joint away.” 

Onyankopon groans as his mother comes into view, “Yes ma’am,” he coughs, hovering a fist over his mouth. He was still high—which you could tell based on his flushed appearance and tone. His mother was very anti-weed, so he always tried to hide it as much as possible. You can see some movement under the table, which you assumed was Onyankopon putting the blunt away.

“Why’ the hell do you think it’s a good time to be smoking, Onyankopon? They don’t drug test y’all?”

Oh god. You knew your mother-in-law could easily begin complaining, and you wish she’d walked in at any other time as you placed a calming palm against her arm.

Onyankopon clears his throat, making his face close to the screen so you could really see his eyes, “Ma—Ma. I’m in the preseason. Ain’t got no games for a couple days. They ain’t doin’ that, they ain’t doin’ all that.”

“Preseason? The ‘hell does that mean? Are y’all playing or not? If you’re not playing then why can't you come back home to check on your mother and your pregnant wife?” She comes closer to the camera, you can’t help but sigh lightly to yourself.

Onyankopon groans again as he leans back in the chair, “Momma, I’m not finna’ get into it with you again. You and Baby know. You jus’ gon’ talk over me if I start speakin’ anyway.”

He can’t help but tongue his cheek momentarily, and your heartbeat increases with just his simple movements—but you’re brought back to reality when his mother speaks up even quicker.

“Are you at least eating? Did you get the care package I sent you? I got all your soaps, and that little teddy bear you had as a baby—you never went anywhere without Mr. Snuffles,” which makes you giggle at the familiar toy, something Onyankopon hated being reminded of.

He mumbles, “…I’m good, Momma, got your care packages. Lawd. Stop with all that…” 

“Thank you for the food, Momma,” you give her a smile, “I’m not super hungry at the moment, do you mind leaving it in the fridge?”

Onyankopon’s mom gives a smile back, “Of course. I’m actually gonna head back home for the night, do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, “I’m perfect. Just gonna’ keep talking to Ony for a little while longer.”

Onyankopon sighs as his mother says her goodbyes, exiting out of the room. Now, you notice his eyes flickering up and down your curves, which makes you squirm under the spotlight. Onyankopon then repeats, “I miss you bad as fuck, girl. You miss me?”

You hate yourself for the emotions that produce randomly at times. The conversation between your mother-in-law and Onyankopon, the way he made you easily giggle, the imagery of his warmth surrounding you but not actually being there—it didn’t feel the best. 

The dark fluff of your cat-eye lash extensions flutter as you nod your head, using your knuckles to lightly swipe your watery eyes as you nod, “I miss you so much, Ony…”

Your husband’s face softens slightly. He hated to see you so emotional due to his absence, and would rather be anywhere else. But you always supported his dreams, and wanted to build the perfect life for your baby boy. He mutters, “Stop all that crying, baby. Wipe ya’ face. You know I’ll be back.“

You shakily sigh a bit, nodding your head as you kneel your face down to let the tears fall that way, “I—I know, it’s just hard sleeping without you,” you sniffle, “Lil’ Pumpkin likes when you rub my stomach to sleep…”

Onyankopon sighs, “And I love rubbin’ your stomach, baby.” 

He then says, “Soon as I get back, we gon’ sleep for a whole week. Ain’t nobody gonna’ bother us. I’m all yours.”

Your heartbeat increases—Onyankopon always had a way to make you emotional without even being near. It also made you somewhat…aroused. 

“I miss you like crazy. I miss ya’ voice, I miss ya’ smell. I miss ya’ pu—“ he cuts himself off before he goes into that territory, which makes your body heat up slightly.

You watch as he brings the blunt back up to the camera, pulling another drag of smoke, the move always so efficient as if it was nothing. His eyes are back to being low—it makes you shift your legs again. He cuts on low background music to play, and a familiar song catches your ears, She Will, by Lil Wayne. 

You hum softly, “You love this song.” 

You take a moment to recall why the song gave you such a sense of Deja Vu. But as you remember, you halt.

The memory was at a family event— Onyankopon’s going away party. His family irritated him by being loud, over talking and messy—a black family’s usual antics. He’d managed to sneak downstairs with you to the car for a moment of silence, the two of you smoking, the song faintly playing in the back. You’d…remembered this vividly.

 Your mind glazes over the moans you produced in that backseat, the sound of your skin connecting, your vulnerability, your legs trapped over his shoulders…

Your mind comes back to reality as you’ve been watching him this whole time. Your hand had somehow made its way to your chest…rubbing over your exposed skin, clutching your pendant again. 

“Mama,” Onyankopon murmurs as he brings another drag of the blunt back on camera, blowing the smoke into screen as he spins back to his sentence earlier, “‘Got me thinking about you bad as fuck.” 

He was high as hell.

Your eyes run over his large silhouette as he leans back against the chair, knees spreading out further as he makes himself comfortable, head tilting back a bit as he watches you. 

Your mind wanders again, back to that song—back to that night. Your mind can’t stop. Your head is spinning with the memories, it physically makes you whimper, squeezing your thighs, tugging your pendant fully.

Your husband’s gaze grows in lust as he leans forward a bit, whispering, “Talk to me. Whatchu’ thinkin’ about?”

The hand clutched around your pendant squeezes a bit tighter as you glance towards the camera, “The song…makes me think of that night in the car…” you softly admit, rubbing your fingers over your collar bone, your fingertips bringing you warmth.

 He brings the blunt back on camera again before a stream of clouds leaves his lips, “You miss that night, Mama?”

You nod your head, your entire body now hot. You could feel your nipples poking through your top again, aching in a way that almost becomes painful. Your thighs are so tightly together, as you adjust the seating position, you grind against yourself a bit, making the tiniest gasp pull from your lips.

Onyankopon groans through the screen, and you can hear his voice say, “You in our bedroom?” 

He was becoming impatient.

"Go to it. On the bed," he murmurs, "Hurry up.”

“Too far from you, Ony,” you pout, bringing your hands against your breast, giving a squeeze to them, trying to relive how full they feel.

There's a pause before a deep exhale leaves his lips. His tone goes deep again, "Go."

You shudder as you stand, your legs feeling numb. You tilt the monitor more towards the king sized bed, silky black comforter set along the oversized mattress. You crawl along the sheets, turning towards him again, your knees along the bed as your dress begins to hike against your soft thighs.

His eyes flicker downward at you, and you can feel his gaze run up your smooth, caramel skin. His gaze burns into yours, giving an intense look. 

You hear his voice again, “You gon’ do what I say?”

You nod your head, lightly digging your teeth against the pink of your soft lips.

“Always listen to you, Ony…”

Your man growls, “That’s right, ‘cause you good. You gon’ be good for me?”

Your hands squeeze the flesh of your breast, your nipples never being this sensitive before your pregnancy. You gasp in a soft tone, but the sound is heavier. You nod your head, “Bought something I w—wanna show you…”

You hear his breathing pick up, “Yeah? Show me,” he murmurs. “You look so muhfuckin’ good right now, baby.”

You reach behind you as you pull a toy from under the pillow—it’s pink, silicone, almost looking like glass. Big, just as big as him. 

“Pretty like you, Daddy…”

"Look at that," You hear a deep noise escape his lips before there's a shuffling noise, you couldn't exactly make out what it was—then it was followed by another noise. This one you recognized; the strings of his sweatpants. His dark pink tip slaps along the sculpted muscle of his stomach, practically making your mouth water. 

“You like it?” You ask softly.

 You take the object and graze it lightly along your body, seating yourself fully along the bed. You’re at the most perfect angle to spread your legs.

“Yeah, baby,” he grunts, letting more of his body come into view as he’s in a reclined position. You can begin to see his toned chest come into view when there's some shuffling noises again, his breathing picking up, “Love it.” 

You pull at the string of your dress, letting the halter fall over the swell of your belly, material hanging in between your stomach and hips. You were now bare at the top, hair swaying over your body and face as you shuddered a bit, “They’re starting to fill with milk, baby… sensitive…”

You can hear a deep, deep groan echo in the screen, almost sounding frustrated, “Fuck. You’ playing right now. Put that shit in your mouth.”

You bring the toy up to your mouth, spreading your full lips apart as you let it slide on your tongue, coating it with your saliva. At the same time, you spread your legs, showing off the glistening arousal bedaubed on your pussy. You were wet. 

“Fuck, baby....” he growls lowly, beginning to stroke himself, “Pussy so pretty. I can feel that shit on my tongue. I’m just slurping your shit up.” 

 His voice is rough with desire, each word punctuated by a squeeze of his fist around his thick tip. 

“Get you’ a pillow for your lower back, baby. ‘Know it hurts sometimes.”

You listen, pulling the satin pillow behind you for a bit of support, feeling the small ache in your back beginning to decrease. 

“Comfortable, Mama?” He questions, you nod your head.

“Good. Rub that dick all over your clit.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you imagine his lips dropping kisses against your clit. He’d go from your inner thighs, teasing you. He’d watch as you’d squirm with every suckle of your skin, your entire body shuddering as his hot breath fanned over the hood covering the pink nub, being pulled up by his lips, being kissed by his tongue. You brush the toy against your clit that throbs, spreading your legs a little more as you whimper, lightly dragging the tip in circles on your upper pussy. The sound it makes, your pussy keens.

His hand begins to pick up speed as he pumps through his fist, “You like that, huh? Rubbing this big ass dick all over your clit?” He grunts, his voice strained with pleasure, “Slap that shit on your pussy. Get them’ pretty ass eyes rolling back."

He knew everything about your body. Including the way you’d spasm at this action, so you listened, slapping the heavy toy against your clit, your legs trembling in response, eyes rolling to the back or your head. You groan a bit, head falling back, eyes fluttering before you bring your attention back to your arousal that pools beneath your thighs, pulling your legs wider to show the gummy pink of your pussy. 

The anticipation builds as you tease yourself, circling your clit with the toy, then dipping it inside your opening just enough before withdrawing again.

“Why that shit so fuckin’ wet already?” His jaw clenches, head tilting back, fist rotating on his tip, dragging down every couple of seconds.

Your folds wrap around the toy every millisecond as you slide the outsides of it against yourself, teasing so much that your eyes haven’t stopped rolling back. 

The swell of your belly shifts a bit as you whine softly, “Ony…” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, “Ain’t even put that shit in yet. Where’ my lil’ nasty bitch at? She would’ve been droolin’, dropping herself all on my dick. Just drenching my shit. Quit playing.”

“Right here,” you whimper, nodding your head, digging your teeth back into the plump of your lips. Instead of dipping the toy in to tease yourself, you take a palm to pull one of your legs up in the air, using your other hand to drag the toy towards your opening, separating the aching stretch of your folds as you begin sinking it’s tip inside. 

You’re gasping as you watch it go in, unable to see more, yet you feel every inch swelling your walls, disappearing under the sight of your large belly. 

You whimper, “It’s in there, baby.” 

"Get it all the way in, baby. Bury that shit deep," he commands, pumping faster now, his breathing ragged. You’re dropping it in, inch by inch, your inhale deep as you pull it halfway out, toes curling as you sink it back in, an air pocket gushing as your arousal sops around the pink toy. 

Your eyes are fluttering chaotically as you shudder, “Fuck,  agh—“ you don’t stop, fist brushing over your clit as you’re dropping it down into you.

He’s talking, "You remember when we first met? Couldn’t even handle my fingers. Now look at you,” A low chuckle escapes him, "Now I got you stretching that pussy out. Dick just drop, drop, dropping in that shit…”

His words trail off into a grunt as he quickens his strokes, “You my lil’ freaky ass bitch, huh?”

You whimper, pouting at the way your pussy cries its tears, sobbing out in waves of arousal that pool each time you pull the toy out, painting the pink silicone white. You squeal lightly as its balls slap against the outside of your pussy, the fleshy sound splattering up more of your wetness as you petulantly whine, “Yeah, Ony…”

"That's right, baby. Take that shit like a good lil' slut," he says, voice dripping with lust as he watches you work the toy deep inside yourself, “Rubbing that pretty ass clit while you're stuffed. Fuck, you look so damn good."

He picks up pace, stroking harder and faster as he nears his own climax, “Gonna give you all this fuckin’ nut. You want it?”

“Want it,” you tremble, in and out, the toy’s just going in you at this point, disappearing without a trace, lost in your pussy. You’re just gushing. The sound is like a mouth blowing raspberries into one’s palm, fleshy, nasty.

“Can’t cum without you,” you pout, “Need you….I need you,” you’re opening your mouth, the sob coming deep from your chest, fucking yourself even harder, one leg shaking violently as it’s held in the air, eyes possessed as they’re rotating. You loved these moments—but they were never enough. Not even for him. 

“You don’t need nothing,” He groans, his words coming out more raspy, “Keep that pussy wet as fuck. I’m coming.” 

[vunblr]

A Cabin for Two

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Desperate for a break from the constant interruptions of their daily lives, Bucky plans a getaway to a secluded cabin deep in the woods. What begins as a peaceful escape soon tests their patience, sparks intimacy, and reveals the strength of their connection.

Word Count: 8.3k

notes: Part of the Roots and Branches AU

The quiet of the mornings was a fragile thing, and it had been shattered almost an hour ago by the insistent chime of the doorbell. Bucky lay in bed, with his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he listened to the muffled voices drifting from the front door. She’d answered it quickly but politely, though the conversation had dragged on far longer than it should have.

He sighed, the comfort and warmth of the bed doing little to soothe the irritation bubbling under his skin. Alone time had become a rare treasure, and lately, it seemed like everyone in town had made it their mission to interfere. He knew the elderly neighbor meant well, but after endless minutes of unsolicited chatter, his patience was wearing thin.

Her polite attempts to wrap things up were obvious, even from here: a gentle laugh, a soft, “Oh, well, I won’t keep you much longer,” but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Bucky’s jaw tightened for the first time in the day as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

With a grumble, he stood and pulled on his jeans, then grabbed his flannel shirt from the chair in the corner. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he crossed to the hallway, shrugging into his coat and grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.

When he reached the entryway, he stopped briefly, flicking his eyes between the two women. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and her expression was somewhere between apologetic and exasperated. He arched a brow, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stepped forward.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice low but polite, nodding at the elderly woman as he signaled his intention to pass.

“Oh!” The neighbor blinked up at him, clearly startled but recovering quickly. “Heading out so early?”

“I’m going to the workshop,” he almost growled as he glanced at her. Then, turning to Y/n, he softened slightly. “Call you later.”

She tilted her head, and a small frown tugged at her lips. “Oh, And breakfast? Want me to make y-”

“No need, darling,” he cut her off gently but firmly, turning on his heel before she could protest.

The screen door creaked and slammed shut behind him, and he strode toward the truck with purposeful steps. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he let out a deep breath, gripping the wheel as he stared at the empty road ahead.

Enough was enough, they needed a break. A time for just the two of them, away from the endless interruptions and the ever-watchful eyes of the town. The idea took root in his mind as the engine roared to life, and a plan took form as he drove toward the workshop. A cabin, a weekend, and nothing but the quiet woods surrounding them.

---

The workshop smelled of sawdust and varnish, and the familiar hum of machinery was already buzzing in the background as Bucky pulled up. He parked the truck, killed the engine, and sat for a moment, gripping the steering wheel as the plan solidified in his mind. The only problem? It was the height of the season. Every halfway-decent cabin in the area would already be booked.

“Damn it,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the seat with a groan.

Swallowing his pride, he pushed open the truck door and made his way inside. The workshop was bustling as usual, but Sam spotted him almost immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing as he approached. “Morning, sunshine,” he drawled, already a grin tugging at his lips. “You look grumpier than usual. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Bucky replied curtly, shrugging off his coat and draping it over a nearby chair.

Sam raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’re stomping around like someone stole your breakfast, but it’s ‘nothing.’ Got it.”

Bucky shot him a warning look, but Sam only chuckled, leaning against the workbench with crossed arms.

“Actually…” Bucky started, gruffly, “you know any cabins ‘round here? Something quiet. Away from people.”

Sam’s grin widened immediately. “You mean, like your house?”

Bucky leveled him with a dirty look, “Farther away.”

Sam’s grin widened. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Why do you need a faraway cabin, Buck?”

“Just answer the question,” Bucky muttered, pulling a pencil from behind his ear and fiddling with it to avoid Sam’s knowing gaze.

“Alright, alright,” Sam said, smirking. “There’s a couple of places I know of, but good luck finding one that’s not booked. You’re cutting it close, man.”

Bucky huffed, staring down at the workbench. “Figured. That’s why I’m asking you.”

Sam tilted his head, his grin turning sly. “And why exactly do you need a cabin? I thought you hated leaving your place for anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“Because,” Bucky grumbled, his voice tight with reluctance, “we could use a break. Just us. No interruptions.”

Sam’s grin practically split his face. “Oh, so it’s for her.” He let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying Bucky’s discomfort. “Man, you’re whipped. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Sam,” Bucky warned, already starting to get irritated. “Are you gonna help or not?”

Sam chuckled, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. “Relax, big guy. I’ve got a cousin who rents out his place sometimes. It’s a little rustic, but it’s quiet, and I’m pretty sure he keeps a spot open for last-minute bookings.”

Bucky perked up slightly, meeting his gaze with Sam’s. “Think he’ll go for it?”

“For you? Probably,” Sam said, grinning. “But only if you promise to stop scowling at everyone for the rest of the week.”

----

By midmorning, Sam’s cousin had called back, and to Bucky’s relief, there was an opening. Apparently, Sam had pulled some strings, mentioning a few owed favors that Bucky didn’t bother asking about. He wasn’t thrilled about relying on Sam’s connections, but he’d take the win. The cabin was booked for the weekend, tucked deep in the woods with no neighbors for miles, a perfect escape.

The morning passed uneventfully after that. He kept busy at the workshop, occupying his mind with the trip and all the things he’d need to prepare. It wasn’t until just after noon that the door creaked open, and the sound of boots on the wooden floor caught his attention.

“Brought you something,” her voice chimed, light and warm, cutting through the steady hum of saws and chatter.

Bucky looked up to see her standing there, the familiar green tupperware in her hands and a smile tugging at her lips. His heart softened instantly, but with Sam and a couple of others milling about, he cleared his throat and kept his expression neutral.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered, stepping closer to take the container.

“I wanted to,” she replied. “Figured you didn’t even have breakfast, did you?”

Caught, Bucky gave her a small, sheepish nod. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, low enough that only she could hear.

She tilted her head, widening her smile. “You’re welcome. Just make sure you eat it before it gets cold.”

He was about to step back when she leaned in, brushing a quick kiss against his stubbled cheek. His muscles tensed on instinct, heat rushing to his face as he shot a quick glance around the room. Sam, of course, was already watching, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Aww, such pampering,” he teased, dragging out the words. “Now I get why he wants to-”

Bucky’s glare cut him off mid-sentence, sharp and unrelenting. If looks could kill, Sam’s head would’ve been obliterated on the spot.

“Shut it, Wilson,” he growled, under his breath.

Sam held up his hands in mock surrender, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “Alright, alright. No need to get your flannel in a twist. Just saying, man, she’s a keeper.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath, and his ears tinged pink as he turned back to her, holding the tupper like it might save him from further embarrassment. She caught the faint tension in his shoulders and, more curiously, the lingering echo of Sam’s teasing. Tilting her head, she gave him a pointed look.

“So,” she asked lightly, her voice curious but playful, “what do you want?”

Bucky blinked, his brows knitting in confusion. “What?”

She arched a brow, twitching the corner of her mouth with amusement. “I pamper you,” she said, gesturing toward the tupperware in his hands, “so you want...?”

His jaw tightened, and a muscle in his cheek twitched as he quickly looked away. “Nothin’,” he muttered gruffly. “He just likes to talk.”

Her smile widened, and she folded her arms leaning slightly closer, clearly not buying his attempt to brush it off. He shifted awkwardly under her gaze, fumbling with the lid of the container.

“I should probably eat this,” he said finally, rushed and uneven, “and, uh, get back to the project.” He scratched the back of his neck, brushing the short ponytail he’d tied earlier that morning.

She stifled a laugh, and her eyes softened as she watched him retreat into himself with that signature mix of bashfulness and stubbornness. “Alright,” she said gently, stepping back with a teasing glint in her eye. “Enjoy the casserole, and don’t forget to actually eat it this time, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, turning toward the workbench with a slight hunch to his shoulders, clearly hoping to escape further scrutiny.

Behind him, Sam’s quiet chuckle reached his ears, and he sent another sharp glare in his direction. But as he settled back into his work, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

-----

Bucky parked his truck outside her house. He grabbed the keys from the ignition and swung the door open, but as he stepped down, a sharp pang shot through his left arm.

“Dammit,” he muttered, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulder as he slammed the truck door shut. For the past two days, the damp weather had been wreaking havoc on the mess of titanium and bone beneath his skin. He grimaced, shaking it off as he made his way up the porch steps.

Fishing the spare key from his pocket, he fumbled with the lock for a moment before letting himself in.

The house was quiet, her laptop sat open on the coffee table, the screen glowing with text she’d been working on. She wasn’t in sight, probably in the bathroom or kitchen. Shrugging off his coat, he draped it over a chair and wandered closer to the coffee table, drawn by the colorful streaks of red and green she’d marked across the page.

He leaned in, squinting at the scene she was editing. A heated moment between a widowed heroine and a cowboy -one who, judging by the way she’d scribbled well-endowed in the margins- wasn’t exactly shy about his physical assets.

Bucky’s brow quirked as he read further. The barn. The hay. The cowboy’s intense sense of duty. The way the poor widow…wait. Was this guy seriously using a breeding-

“Bucky!”

He flinched, startled by her voice, and straightened so fast his neck cracked. She stood in the doorway, wide eyes darting between him and her laptop.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, rushing forward and snapping the laptop shut faster than he could blink.

He raised his hands in mock innocence, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Didn’t mean to snoop,” he drawled with amusement. “Just... couldn’t help but notice what kind of ‘research’ you’re doing these days.”

Her cheeks burned as she folded her arms, trying -and failing- to look unbothered. “It’s not research. It’s editing and proof-reading,” she corrected quickly. “And you’re supposed to be grabbing your tools, not reading over my shoulder!”

Bucky smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the back of the couch. “That what you call it? Editing?” She narrowed her eyes “I didn’t say anything about the, uh...” His smirk deepened as her glare sharpened. “...dedication that cowboy seems to have toward the widow and the old breeding stock on the barn.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Chuckling, Bucky pushed off the couch and moved closer. “Relax, sweetheart.” He brushed a hand against her arm, warmly and reassuringly. “I came to grab my tools, but... I’ve got something to tell you.”

She peeked at him through her fingers. “What’s that?”

His smirk faded into something softer, more thoughtful. “How do you feel about a weekend away? Just us. No laptops, no interruptions, no... cowboys.”

Her hands dropped from her face, and her eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

He nodded, scratching the back of his neck under his short ponytail. “Yeah. Got a cabin lined up. Quiet. Middle of nowhere. Thought it’d be good to... get outta here for a bit.”

Her expression melted into a warm smile, and she stepped closer, resting her hands lightly on his chest. “That sounds perfect, Buck.”

He ducked his head, and his lips twitched into a small, shy smile. “Figured you’d like it.”

She leaned up, brushing a kiss against his lips. “I love it. And you.”

His heart stuttered but he recovered quickly, pulling her closer. “Love you too, darlin’,”

She tilted her head with a playful glint in her eye as her hands slid down his chest. “So,” she began, teasing but curious, “what’s the occasion? Don’t tell me I forgot some special date I’m not aware of?”

Bucky froze for a split second, fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater as his eyes darted briefly away. “I just-” he started, but the words got stuck in his throat. He kicked himself inwardly, forcing himself to man up and meet her gaze. Taking a breath, he straightened his shoulders.

“I want alone time with you,” he said firmly, tumbling out the words with an edge of determination.

Her lips parted in slight surprise, though her smile didn’t fade. She somehow understood where this was going, but knowing how rare it was for him to be this straightforward, she decided to play innocent and coax him into saying more.

“Alone?” she echoed, tilting her head. “But you already sleep here four days a week, and normally on weekends we-”

“Completely alone,” he cut her off.

She blinked at the rare flash of certainty in his voice, but his grumpy pout that followed had her stifling a laugh.

“No boy scout cookie sellers,” he grumbled while his expression darkened at the memory of being roped into buying five boxes last week. “No bored old ladies ringing the doorbell to trap you all morning. And not that friend of yours who always shows up for baking lessons she doesn’t even take seriously.”

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled at his increasing exasperation. “I get it.”

His frown softened slightly, but he still looked serious.

“And...” she ventured, with a sly grin, “what exactly are your plans for those days alone, hm?”

Bucky’s ears flushed red, and his mouth opened as though to respond, but for a moment, nothing came out. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, flicking his eyes to the side before landing back on her.

“Well...” he started, “figured we could... I don’t know. Talk. Sleep in. Walk in the woods. Maybe build a fire. Eat something you didn’t have to cook.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just... be.”

Her heart softened, and her grin faded into a gentle smile as she stepped closer. “That sounds perfect, Buck,” she said softly, brushing a hand against his cheek.

His eyes searched hers for a moment, then he exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips as she added, “especially for the part where we could wander around naked at any hour knowing no one would come.”

Bucky froze, tightening his hands instinctively on her waist. His gaze flickered with something darker, primal, as her words hung in the air.

She bit her lip, feeling her cheeks warming as she saw his expression shift, at his blue eyes narrowing with interest. Emboldened, she tilted her head closer, dropping her voice into a sultry whisper. “And… since there are no neighbors... we can be all loud... and naughty.”

The growl that escaped him was low and deep, sending a delicious shiver racing down her spine. His hands slid down to her hips, holding her firmly as he stepped closer “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek.

“Am I?” she teased, as she trailed her fingers up his chest, her nails brushing lightly over the fabric of his sweater.

“You are,” he confirmed, tightening his grip just enough to make her breath hitch. “You sure you can keep up?”

Her laughter was soft and breathless as she leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

----

The weekend came by, and they headed off to the cabin. It was nice. The sun was dipping low, casting a golden glow over the snowy landscape. The truck rumbled steadily along the winding road, and the soft hum of the cozy heater filled the silence between them.

But as they rounded a bend, the truck jolted suddenly, listing to one side.

“Great,” Bucky muttered, pulling to the shoulder and cutting the engine. He stepped out into the crisp evening air, already suspecting the problem before he even reached the rear tire. The flat was obvious, the sagging rubber was almost completely deflated. He muttered another curse, running a hand through his hair.

He heard the passenger door open and turned to see her climbing out, tugging her coat tighter around herself as the snow began to drift down in lazy flakes.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, frowning as she approached.

“Coming to help,” she replied simply, her boots crunching against the snow as she reached his side.

“You should get back in the truck,” he said, gruffly but not unkind. “You’ll get sick out here.”

She raised a brow, crossing her arms. “The same could be said for you.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, already crouching to pull the jack and wrench from the toolbox in the bed of the truck.

“Bucky,” she said softly, stepping closer. “You’re not fine. I know your arm’s bothering you.”

He froze briefly, before resuming his task without looking at her. “It’s nothin’. Just the weather messin’ with it.”

“And you were going to say something, when? she retorted. “Let me help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He shook his head, gripping the jack with his good hand and positioning it under the truck. “I’ve got it,” he said, firmly. “Go sit in the truck where it’s warm.”

“Bucky,” she pressed, kneeling beside him despite the cold seeping through her jeans. “Stubborn man, you’re in pain, you’re not fooling me.”

He shot her a sideways glance, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I’m not lettin’ you freeze your ass off out here. Go inside.”

She reached out, placing a hand on his arm, not the one that ached, but the other, steady and sure. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly.

His jaw clenched, and his resolve flickered as her words settled over him. Finally, he sighed, easing the tension in his shoulders just slightly. “Fine,” he muttered. “You can hold the damn flashlight.”

She smiled, leaning up to press a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing the flashlight from the truck. As she illuminated the work area, he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered under his breath.

The flat tire took longer than it should have. His left arm ached like a bitch, and each motion was a reminder of the puzzle of titanium and bone that would never quite work the way it used to. He tried to power through, determined to manage on his own, but his movements grew slower and more strained.

“Here, let me help,” she said softly, stepping forward as he struggled to lift the wheel into place.

“I got it,” he gritted out, but his grip faltered just enough for her to step in, steadying the weight with him.

It stung more than he cared to admit, her intervention feeling like a bruise to his pride. Once the wheel was finally secured, he tightened the lug nuts in silence, his mood darkening with every passing minute.

By the time they climbed back into the truck, the snow was falling heavier. The heater hummed softly, but the tension in the cab was palpable.

Bucky stared sternly at the road, gripping the wheel as his mind spiraled. The sting of the cold on his bare hands, the ache in his arm, the fact that he hadn’t been able to handle the damn tire without her help, it all gnawed at him, feeding the deep-rooted insecurities he tried so hard to bury.

“You okay?” she asked gently, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, not looking at her.

She hesitated, scanning his profile. The stiffness in his posture, the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the wheel like it might slip from his grasp, she knew he wasn’t okay.

“Do you want some coffee?” she offered, lifting the thermos she’d packed. “It’s still warm.”

“No, thanks,” he replied, clipped.

She frowned, and her concern grew as the silence stretched on. His hands, red and raw from the cold, caught her attention, and she wondered if the pain had worsened.

“Bucky,” she said softly, “do you want me to drive? Your hands must be hurting after working in this weather without gloves.”

That did it.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his jaw locking as the words struck a nerve. He knew she meant well, but the offer felt like a confirmation of everything his mind was already whispering, that he wasn’t enough. That he couldn’t even take care of something as simple as a flat tire without help.

“I said I’m fine,” he muttered tensely.

She bit her lip, sensing the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior but unsure how to reach him. “It’s not a big deal,” she tried, her tone gentle. “We’re in this together, remember? There’s no shame in letting me help.”

His grip tightened further, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. “I said I can handle it,” he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration he hadn’t meant to direct at her.

He drove silently, fixing his gaze on the snow-dusted road ahead, while his mind churned with doubts. He hated the way he’d snapped at her, hated that she’d seen him struggle. Most of all, he hated the nagging voice in the back of his head, whispering that maybe he wasn’t enough for her.

---

The rest of the trip passed in silence. She had shifted slightly toward the window, leaning her shoulder against the door, with her gaze fixed on the snow-covered forest rushing past. The quiet wasn’t oppressive, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

Bucky’s grip on the wheel loosened. He hadn’t meant to snap, but the words had come out sharp anyway, cutting through her concern with the jagged edge of his pride.

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as guilt settled in its place. She’d only been trying to help, and he’d let his frustration get the better of him.

At some point, the need to bridge the growing chasm between them grew too strong to ignore. He cleared his throat softly, his voice came low and gruff as he murmured, “A little coffee sounds nice now.”

There was no answer.

Frowning slightly, he glanced over at her, ready to apologize. But the words caught in his throat when he saw her.

Her head rested lightly against the window, her eyes closed, breathing softly and even. She’d fallen asleep.

Of course, he thought, with a pang of guilt. It was late, the air outside was cold, and to top it off, he hadn’t even been good company. He’d acted like an idiot, stewing in his frustration instead of appreciating the woman who had braved the freezing weather just to help him.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in the soft curve of her lips and the way her lashes rested against her cheeks. She looked peaceful, and the sight tugged at something deep inside him, making him tighten his grip on the wheel.

He returned his focus to the road, clenching his jaw briefly as he wrestled with the mess of emotions swirling in his chest. He couldn’t undo the way he’d acted, but he could make up for it. For now, he’d let her rest, keep her warm and comfortable.

----

As the cabin came into view at last, tucked into a small clearing in the snow-dusted forest, Bucky frowned slightly. It was smaller than he’d expected and not exactly what you’d call visually appealing. The roof looked like it hadn’t been repaired in years, the paint on the shutters was peeling, and the porch sagged just enough to make him hesitate about stepping on it.

He sighed quietly, chastising himself for being so quick to judge. Focus on the goal, he thought. Time alone with her. No neighbors. No interruptions. That’s all that matters.

She stirred beside him as he turned off the engine, and her eyes fluttered open. She sat up quickly, stretching as she glanced at him. “Oh, sorry I fell asleep,” she murmured, her voice still a little thick.

He shook his head, brushing off her apology. “Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I was... a grump. Didn’t mean to ruin the start of the trip.”

She tilted her head, and her gaze softened as a small smile tugged at her lips. “You didn’t ruin anything, Buck.”

He gave her a faint smile in return before glancing back at the cabin. “Let’s get inside,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

Getting the door open was another matter entirely. The old lock protested against his attempts, creaking and groaning as he jiggled the key. After a few muttered curses and a bit of elbow grease, the door finally swung open with a loud creak.

He stepped inside first. He’d fantasized that even if the cabin looked old on the outside, the inside would be a pleasant surprise, something rustic but cozy, maybe with modern upgrades to make up for the exterior.

No such luck.

The interior was just as outdated as the outside. The furniture was mismatched and worn, the wallpaper was peeling in places, and the lighting was dim at best. The faint smell of wood smoke lingered in the air, and the fireplace looked like it hadn’t been used in years.

Bucky stood in the center of the small room, crossing his arms as he took it all in. He’d definitely be having a chat with Sam about this cousin of his when they got back.

But for now, he had to find something positive to say, even as the disappointment tugged at the corners of his mind. He glanced back at her as she stepped in, brushing her hands over her arms to warm up.

“It’s... clean,” he finally said, feeling the words awkward as they left his mouth.

She blinked at him, then looked around, and her lips twitched as she fought back a laugh. “Clean, huh?”

He shrugged, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Let’s see... also it’s got four walls and a roof. That’s somethin’, right?” He sighed, glancing at the dingy fireplace. “I’ll start the fire.”

She smiled softly, setting her bag by the door. “I’ll grab the luggage,” she announced, turning toward the truck.

“Wait,” he called, already stepping toward her. “I can-”

“Nope,” she cut him off, spinning on her heel to face him, hands on her hips. “Don’t even start, James Buchanan Barnes.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he crossed his arms. “You shouldn’t be out in this snow. It’s freezing.”

“Exactly,” she retorted, pointing at him. “Which is why you’re not going out there either. Your arm’s already giving you trouble, and I’m not about to let you make it worse.”

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, but she wasn’t having it.

“Fine, huh?” she shot back, raising a brow. “Last I checked, we’re not living in the caves anymore. You don’t have to do everything yourself. I’m perfectly capable of hauling a couple of bags.”

“Darlin’-” he started, but she stepped closer, resting her hand lightly on his chest.

“Bucky,” she said gently. “Let me do this. You’re not proving anything by pushing yourself in this weather. Just... let me help, okay?”

He hesitated, and his jaw worked as his eyes searched hers. He hated the thought of sitting idle while she did the heavy lifting, but the concern in her gaze gave him pause. Finally, he sighed, slightly slumping his shoulders in defeat.

“Alright,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But take it slow.”

“Always do,” she said with a small smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out the door.

-----

Starting the fire was proving to be yet another test for Bucky’s patience. He muttered a string of curses under his breath as the stubborn logs refused to catch, the kindling only sputtering weakly before fizzling out. At this point, he was starting to wonder if this whole thing was part of some hidden camera prank, because damn.

She had reentered the cabin while he was still wrestling with the fireplace, carrying their luggage and moving quietly so as not to disrupt his focus -or, more accurately-, his battle with the firewood. She unpacked their belongings in the small bedroom, making the best of the limited space and creaky furniture.

When she finished, Bucky was still hunched over the fireplace, furrowed brows and lips set in a grim line of determination. Suppressing a smile, she decided to let him be, for now, heading to the kitchen instead.

The tiny space was quaint, with mismatched cabinets and appliances that looked older than she was. She busied herself getting familiar with it, unpacking their groceries, and pulling out a few ingredients for dinner.

After a while, she peeked through the kitchen doorway to check on him. He was sitting back on his heels, rubbing his elbow absently, clearly, the ache in his arm was getting to him. The fireplace remained cold and unlit.

She sighed. She knew a direct approach wouldn’t do any good, not when his pride was already bruised. Instead, an idea formed in her mind, and she couldn’t help the mischievous grin that crept across her face.

“Um, Buck?” she called, with a note of uncertainty. “Can you come here for a second? There’s something about the water heater I don’t understand.”

His head snapped up, furrowing his brows as he stood and brushed off his hands. “The water heater? What’s wrong with it?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied, feigning confusion as she poked her head out of the kitchen. “I just need you to take a look.”

Without hesitation, he crossed the room. “Alright, let’s see what’s goin’ on.”

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, she turned to face him, with wide, innocent eyes. He barely had time to notice that nothing in the room seemed out of place before she stepped forward, grabbing him by the front of his sweater and gently pushing him back against the counter.

“What the-” he started, gruffly with confusion as his ass hit the edge of the counter.

Her hands slid up to rest on his chest, and her fingers curled into the fabric as she looked up at him with mischief. “Gotcha,” she said softly, with a playful smile tugging at her lips.

He blinked, arching his brow as he realized he’d been ambushed. “This ain’t about the water heater, is it?”

“Not even a little,” she admitted, tilting her head as her grin widened.

His lips twitched, quirking upward despite his earlier sour mood. “You think you’re clever, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, leaning closer, and pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw. “Now, let me make you a deal.”

He arched a brow. “I’m listenin’.”

“You come to sit down and rest that arm of yours,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, “and I’ll take care of the fire.”

“You?” he asked, his voice skeptical but not unkind.

“Me,” she replied confidently, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Trust me, Buck. I’ve got this.”

He hesitated, and his jaw worked as he weighed his pride against the undeniable ache in his arm. Finally, he exhaled a slow breath and nodded. “Alright,” he muttered gruffly,  but his tone was tinged with reluctant gratitude. “But if you need help-”

“I’ll call for my big, strong lumberjack,” she teased, brushing another kiss against his cheek before stepping back toward the fireplace.

The thing was, she’d anticipated this exact scenario. Having grown up with the conveniences of city living, she’d given in to her practical instincts at the general store and bought a couple of ignition discs, just in case. No fuss, no frustration. Just place them under the wood, light them, and voilà.

She crouched near the hearth, arranging the wood carefully before sliding one of the discs into place. With a quick flick of the lighter, the flame caught instantly, spreading evenly and licking at the dry kindling.

Behind her, she heard the sound of a chair scraping softly against the floor. She glanced back to find Bucky standing there, arms crossed, one brow quirked as he watched the flames come to life.

“Couldn’t you, you know… have told me sooner you had those?” he asked, with a mix of curiosity and mild exasperation.

She straightened, dusting her hands off on her jeans as she met his gaze deadpan. “Well, you weren’t exactly in the mood for more interventions earlier.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as his lips tugged into a wry, self-aware smile. “Fair point,” he muttered, slumping his shoulders slightly. “I’m sorry... again.”

She stepped closer, brushing her hand lightly against his arm. “It’s okay, Buck. We’re here now. Fire’s going, and we’ll be warm in no time.”

He nodded, easing the tension in his posture as he let out a slow breath. “Alright,” he glanced toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you let me take care of dinner? You’ve already done enough. I’ll check it, stir it, and whatever else it needs.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, cutting her off before she could get the words out.

“And you,” he continued, his tone firm but warm, “are going to take a shower and relax. You’ve done more than enough already.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, her hands resting on her hips. “Bucky, I don’t mind helping finishing-”

“I know you don’t,” he said, stepping closer and dipping his head to meet her gaze. “But I want to do this. You’ve been running around taking care of everything since we got here. Let me handle this, darlin’.”

Finally, she let out a soft sigh, quirking her lips into a faint smile. “Alright, fine,” she relented.

With that, she headed toward the small bathroom, and soon the faint sound of falling water filled the cabin. Bucky moved to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he inspected the bubbling pot on the stove. He stirred it slowly, tasting the broth and deciding in record time it was ready. With a satisfied nod, he turned off the burner, set the lid in place, and leaned against the counter for a moment, letting the warmth from the stove soothe his thoughts.

She wasn’t the only one who got to pull sneaky moves, he decided, and he figured it was about time to even the score.

Quietly, he walked toward the bathroom, his footsteps oh so soft against the wooden floor. As he moved, he peeled off his sweater and undershirt, letting them fall into a pile near the bedroom door. His boots and socks followed, then his jeans, until he was down to nothing but a faint smirk as he reached the bathroom door.

The faint creak of the hinges went unnoticed, her voice carrying softly over the sound of the running water. She was singing along to a tune playing on her phone.

The flimsy shower curtain barely masked her silhouette, and he stepped closer, his shadow looming behind it as he reached for the edge.

She didn’t notice a thing, too lost in her song to hear the quiet rustle of the curtain rings sliding along the rod.

Until he stepped in.

“Bucky!” she squeaked, spinning around as the cool air rushed in with him.

He grinned, utterly unrepentant as he crowded into the small space, warm water splashing over his chest. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save some water. Also, thought you liked surprises, like that little ambush in the kitchen” he murmured, as his hands found her waist, pulling her closer under the spray.

Before she could come up with a witty response, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His touch was unhurried but thorough as his hands started to explore the soft, already-soaped curves of her body with an ease that made her toes curl.

She gasped softly against his mouth, curling her fingers instinctively into his damp hair, pulling him closer. Bucky,” she murmured between kisses, though the protest in her tone was faint.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then down the column of her neck, leaving a warm path against her slick skin.

“This is...” She paused, her words faltering as his hands slid lower, steadying her against the slippery tiles.

“This is me,” he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly, “making up for being an ass earlier.”

A soft laugh escaped her, while her breasts brushed against him as she tilted her head to meet his gaze. “This how you apologize?”

He smiled, tracing lazy circles against her hip with his thumb. “Depends,” he drawled. “You acceptin’ it?”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a slow, teasing smile as her fingers trailed down his chest. “Hmm,” she mused, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know... You were kind of a grump earlier.”

His smirk faltered just slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “Yeah,” he admitted softly, his hand tightening gently on her waist. “I was.”

Her heart softened at his honesty, her teasing tone giving way to something gentler. “You know, all you had to do was talk to me,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly up over his collarbone.

“I know,” he murmured, lowering his gaze for a moment. “I just... get in my head sometimes. Don’t mean to take it out on you.”

She cupped his jaw, guiding his eyes back to hers, brushing her thumb against the faint stubble on his cheek. “I know that, Buck. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself. I’m here. Let me be here, okay?”

He held her gaze and slowly he nodded, leaning into her touch. “Okay,” he whispered, the word heavy with unspoken gratitude.

Her smile widened, and she leaned up to press a soft kiss on his lips. “Good,” she murmured against his mouth.

When she started to pull back, he caught her by the waist, his half smile returning as he lowered his voice to a playful murmur. “Still haven’t said if you’re acceptin’ my apology, though.”

She laughed softly, sliding her hands back up to his shoulders. “I guess I could be persuaded.”

“Persuaded, huh?” he murmured, leaning in until their foreheads brushed, his lips barely a breath away from hers. “Guess I better try harder.”

“That so?” she whispered, her voice trembling with amusement and anticipation.

“Mm-hmm,” he rumbled, sliding his hands up her slick back, pulling her closer under the warm spray. “Wouldn’t want to leave any doubt.” He captured her mouth and fisted her hair with one hand, while the other roamed down her back to squeeze the curve of her ass. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, nipping and sucking at her sensitive skin. “Think I can convince you?” he breathed against her ear, as he started to grind his hardening cock against her stomach.

“Uhuh, for starters you were the one who booked this cabin for us to be alone. That adds some points.” She conceded, biting her lip.

“Let’s see if I can score some more”. With a sudden move, he spun her around, pinning her against the tile wall. The cool surface of the tiles against her nipples contrasted sharply with the heat of his body at her back, and she shivered.

She gasped, feeling his full awakened cock pressing against her, as the water drippled over their bodies. "Such a naughty lumberjack" she teased, arching her back slightly to grind against him. “To think you get all flustered and awkward on a daily basis, and then…”

“...and then I let loose like this” he growled, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, grinding his thick length against her ass. He slid up a hand to flick his thumb over one of her nipples as he leaned in to nip at her neck. “Guess I've got two sides to me, sweetheart”. His free hand slid down to cup her pussy possessively, spreading her open and rubbing his fingers on her wet folds.

“Yes, you do" she moaned, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck. "I love both sides of you, Buck. The sweet, grumpy boyfriend, and the passionate lover". She rocked her hips into his touch, soaking his fingers with her slick. "Please” she whined, pressing her rear against his aching cock.

He groaned at her words and bit down gently on her neck. “Patience, darlin’. We’ve got all night” he rasped, even as his fingers continued their torturous dance, circling her clit before dipping inside her. As much as he wanted to bury himself balls-deep in her right now, he also craved the slow burn of building pleasure between them. He knew just how to tease her, how to make her squirm and beg without ever quite reaching the edge. “Look at you, so wet and needy already”, he praised, adding a third finger to stretch her further as he pumped them in and out of her tight heat. “Tell me what you want, sugar”

“Oh god, Bucky please...” she pleaded, riding his hand shamelessly, chasing her release, desperate for friction, for more penetration, for anything that get her closer to-

With a low chuckle, he withdrew his fingers, leaving her empty and aching. He turned off the shower and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her out of the bathroom and towards the creaky bed awaiting them. As he laid her down, a little rougher than intended, he stood at the foot of the mattress, raking over her splayed form with appreciation. A smug smile curved his lips as he watched her squirm restlessly, trying to close the distance between them. “Not yet, sweetheart” he crooned, his voice husky with promise. “First, I need to taste you.”

Her body thrummed with pent-up desire as she gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Her pussy clenched at his words, and a whimper escaped her parted lips. "Please, Bucky" she begged, spreading her thighs wider in silent invitation.

His gaze dropped to her exposed folds, and he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to plunge straight inside her. Instead, he crawled onto the bed and leaned down, dragging his tongue up her slit, to swirl it around her needy clit.

She cried out, and her back arched off the mattress as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more contact. He hummed in approval and repeated the motion, increasing the pressure and speed as he worked her higher. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her still as he feasted on her, alternating between gentle laps and firm sucks on her clit. Just when she teetered on the edge, he pulled back, leaving her panting and desperate. “So close, aren't we, darlin’? With a wicked grin, he positioned himself between her thighs, the broad head of his cock nudging her entrance. Ready to leap?”

“If this is your way to ask for apologies, let me tell you-“ she was interrupted by his thick length spearing into her in one smooth stroke, making her cry out.

He stilled for a moment, savoring the sensation, before slowly withdrawing until just the tip remained inside her. Then, with a powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt once more. This time, he set a relentless pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her entire body. “Take it, sweetheart. Take everything I've got for you,” he groaned, as the headboard collided dangerously against the wooden wall again and again.

"Yes yes yes!!" she screamed as he struck her sweet spot repeatedly, digging her nails into his back as her inner muscles clenched wildly around his thickness. She was so close, the tension inside her building to a fever pitch, until finally, she came undone beneath him, milking his cock as he continued to thrust, prolonging her ecstasy. ”Bucky! Oh god, Bucky!”

“Gonna fill you up, darlin’”, he snarled, snapping his hips faster, going deeper as he neared the edge. “Fuck, you're squeezing me so good. So fucking tight and wet, just for me.” He praised, each word punctuated by a harsh slap of flesh against flesh. “Can't hold back anymore baby, I gotta-”. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let go, emptying himself inside her willing pussy. For several moments, he remained frozen, savoring the sensation, until finally, with a soft groan he collapsed on top of her, his body heavy but comforting as his chest heaved against hers. His damp hair clung to his cheeks, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

After a long quiet stretch, she brushed her lips against his temple, “Hey.”

He grunted in response, low and muffled against her neck.

“How’s your arm?” she asked, brushing her fingers gently over his shoulder, breaking through the haze of contentment.

Bucky didn’t answer right away. He shifted slightly, lifting his head just enough to meet her eyes. His blue gaze was soft, still clouded with lingering post-coital bliss and a flicker of surprise there too, as if he hadn’t expected her to bring it up now.

“’S’ fine,” he said, “Doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

“You sure? No lying to me, handsome.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shifting his weight as he propped himself up on his forearms. “I’m sure,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly. “You’re good at distracting me.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she shook her head. “Bucky,” she said softly, her tone turning serious. “I mean it. If it’s hurting, you need to let me know.”

He sighed, dropping his forehead against hers. “It’s alright,” he promised, his voice more earnest now. “Doesn’t hurt like it did earlier. Just... aches a little.”

“Alright,” she said, brushing her fingers soothingly along his arm. “Because maybe I’ve packed some oil for a sexy massage... just in case you needed it.”

Bucky froze for a beat, raising his brows slightly as he lifted his head to look at her. The surprise in his expression quickly gave way to a bloomed blush. “Oh, yeah?”

She grinned, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. You know, for emergencies.” she added teasingly.

“Emergencies,” he repeated.

She nodded, keeping her expression straight despite the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Of course. A good partner always thinks ahead. But I don’t see you very into it, maybe you don’t wanna-”

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbled promptly, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him so she sprawled across his chest. “I’d be a fool to turn down an offer like that.”

“Smart man,” she teased, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his lips before slipping out of bed to rummage through her bag. “Stay put, honey.”

He ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t quite hear. When she turned back, bottle in hand, his gaze darted to it briefly before flicking back to her face, with a mix of amusement and lingering flustered disbelief. “Darlin’ you spoil me too much”

“Oh, and I plan to keep doing so. Now, roll over and relax.” She playfully ordered. When he complied, she straddled his waist. Her hands started moving expertly over his skin, spreading the warmed oil on his shoulders and upper back and the tension in his muscles slowly began to melt away as her thumbs pressed into the knots, working them loose with deliberate care.

He let out a low, contented groan, turning his head slightly to rest on his folded arms. “Really, you didn’t have to go all out like this,” he murmured, but even he faintly protested, his voice was thick with relaxation.

“Oh, I definitely did,” she teased lightly, moving her hands to his biceps, carefully avoiding his left elbow.

As her hands continued their soothing path, he silently thanked whatever twist of fate had brought her into his life.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[beloveds-embrace]

(a series in which you are a witch living in the woods, and a group of knights have decided to keep you safe and sound in exchange for kisses and charms.)

Ghost’s visits were fleeting, much like the twilight shadows that crept through the trees. They always came without warning, as if the man himself was more a part of the forest than even you, slipping between the cracks of the day unnoticed. Tonight was no different. The wards surrounding your cottage buzzed softly, recognizing his familiar energy, and you opened the door before he could knock.

His broad figure filled the frame, his skull mask catching the faint glow of the firelight spilling from within. Shadows danced across the painted bone, but you didn’t flinch.

You never did. Never felt or had to.

“I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” You said, stepping aside to let him in.

He ducked through the doorway, gloved hands reaching into his coat to retrieve a worn leather pouch. The door closed quietly on its own behind him, glimmering faintly. “Had time. Thought you could use this.”

He handed you the pouch, and the faint scent of crushed lavender and sage wafted from it. Behind you, empty bottles clinked and tapped their way into a neat row on the counter.

“Perfect for cleansing rituals,” you said, smiling as you took it. “Thank you, Simon.”

At the sound of his name, he stilled- even though he had told you to call him that himself, so long ago. The moment passed, and he watched in silence as you began sorting the herbs, your hands deft and practiced and your magic humming in the air.

“You haven’t been visiting as much,” you noted, glancing up briefly to flash him another smile. “Been busy?”

“Always.” He replied simply, leaning against the wall. His eyes tracked your movements, the fluidity and familiarity with with you did everything. It was comforting.

“You should sit.”

“I’m fine standing.”

You shook your head but didn’t argue, instead reaching for a small carved charm resting on your workbench. The rune, etched into a piece of bone, pulsed faintly with a soft, protective glow- magic you had infused into it over several nights. It was a good thing he came by when he did.

“This is for you,” you said, stepping closer and holding it out. “It’s for the nightmares. To keep them at bay.”

Ghost hesitated for a moment before taking it, his fingers brushing yours. He studied the charm, turning it over in his hands. The silence stretched, but it was never uncomfortable with him.

“Thank you.” He said finally, quiet but no less sincere.

“You’ve been sleeping poorly again, even aside from the nightmares.” You observed gently, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

He didn’t answer directly, but the slight tightening of his posture was answer enough.

“I’ll make you something stronger,” you offered, already moving toward the shelves where you kept your jars of herbs and oils. “A dream salve to help you find peace.”

“You do too much, witch.” He muttered, rough and yet carrying an undertone of warmth.

“This is how I protect you,” you replied, grinding dried lavender and valerian root in a mortar. “You all keep me safe in ways I could never repay, Simon. This is the least I can do.”

He stayed quiet, watching as you lit a candle and whispered an incantation over the mixture. The flame flickered unnaturally for a moment, the salve glowing faintly before settling into a calm, soothing scent.

When you handed him the small jar, he tucked it into his pocket alongside the charm. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

“You’ve got a way of making this place feel untouched,” he huffed at last. “Like the world out there doesn’t exist.”

“It’s the wards,” you grinned, pride flickering. “And maybe a little bit of you all, too.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he glanced toward the door. “Speaking of the world out there…”

You followed his gaze, the faint hum of unease settling in your chest and chasing away the pride. “What is it?”

“Had to deal with something on my way here,” he admitted, grumbling darkly. “The crown’s men were sniffing around the edge of the forest. Heard rumors of a ‘witch’ living out here.”

Your stomach dropped, and you gripped the edge of your workbench. “How close did they get?”

“Not close enough,” Ghost said firmly. “I made sure they wouldn’t come any nearer. A few whispers about cursed woods and unnatural shadows should keep them away for now, and they have no reason to doubt me.”

He didn’t elaborate, but you could imagine it: the sight of him emerging from the trees, his skull mask illuminated by the dying light of day, his voice low and threatening. He didn’t need magic to make men tremble- his presence alone was enough. Especially for those who heard about him.

“Thank you, Simon.” You breathed out softly, your voice laced with genuine gratitude. Your heart began to calm down from the way it’d started thudding before.

“I’ll keep them off your trail,” he continued, tone leaving no room for doubt. Carefully, he reached to hold your cheek in his hand for just a few seconds that felt much longer. “Price has a system in place, but if anyone gets too curious, I’ll handle it.”

You stepped closer, reaching up to brush your fingers against the edge of his mask. “I don’t know what I’d do without you all.”

“You’ll never have to find out.”

Before he left, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to the edge of his mask. The cold material brushed your lips, and for a moment, he softened.

“Be safe out there, Simon.” You whispered.

He nodded, stepping into the shadows beyond your door. As the forest swallowed him, the wards around your home shimmered faintly, strengthened by the presence of the man who had once again ensured your safety.

You returned inside, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air, and whispered a quiet spell of thanks- one more layer of protection for the man who guarded your hidden sanctuary.

Witch of the Woods Masterlist | John Price

[dwaekkicidal]

cw» fem!reader, kitty hybrid reader x puppy hybrid!channie, mentions of p in v, manhandling, there’s a few more but nothing too crazy/out of the blue

cw» not really proofread, but this is for that one anon who asked for kitty reader a few months ago <3 sorry it took so long

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

pup!channie who was very against his owner adopting another hybrid, let a lone a cat of all species. but it's not like he has much of a say in it- it's supposed to be his new "friend" so he's not alone while his owner is at work all day!

pup!channie who scares you shitless before you two even meet. your new owner warned you and told you all kinds of scary things about the dog you'll be living with from now on

but queue faces of surprise, from all 3 of you, when chan's face burns red and his tail starts wagging aggressively the second he sees you

pup!channie who gets addicted to your scent from day 1. he just loooves the way you smell. that and your endearingly cute demeanor only leads to him quickly growing a little crush on you~

pup!channie who surprises you and your owner when he opens his space to you right off the bat- with little to no aggressiveness coming from the boy.

pup!channie who welcomes you with open arms, even going far enough to allow you to lay (and sleep with him) in his bed. your owner was scared at first but quickly grew to trust chan enough that he didn't bother getting you your own bed- simply allowing you to sleep with chan

pup!channie who stares daggers into every person, human or hybrid, who even glances your way. your pretty head is never worried about anything enough to notice the stares, but chan has eyes of a hawk when it comes to you.

pup!channie who scents you unbeknownst to you. sneakily scenting you and your clothes to the point where it's just a natural smell to you- you don't question where it comes from anymore now that you're conditioned to live in the smell- but the smell follows you everywhere enough to scare other hybrids away

pup!channie who is SO easily jealous and refuses to let anybody near you. your owner has to muzzle HIM when you go to the doctor because the mere thought of strangers being so close to you, maybe even touching you makes him seethe.

^ and this is even worse when your owner brings their friends around. the onslaught of questions like "ohh how did you get that mutt to tolerate your new, pretty kitty" was already enough to piss him off, but when the friends try to touch you, he sees red. he actually loses all sense of rationality and will bite the person if they don't back away within his first growl.

and all of this is innocent at first! until its not.

it loses all innocence when mating season comes around, and you both discover your owner wasn't responsible enough to account for the clash of hormones. they thought about the possibility of you getting pregnant and put you on birth control "just in case", but they didn't take into account that the hormones would still be there in full force.

and that leads to what happened at the beginning of the week. your owner is out on a business trip that just so happens to be 2 weeks long, and channie has begun to feel the first signs of his heat. but it wasn't until he came home from a short grocery outing, and smelt your scent for the first time in hours, that he realized his heat was hitting him.

it wasn't until he was standing the doorway of your shared room, groceries long forgotten on the kitchen floor, that he felt the heat start coursing through his veins.

it wasn't until he had your face shoved into the sheet, balls deep in your cunt, that the emotions started to hit him.

"C-Channie! Slow down, p-please-" He shushes you and thrusts harder, his balls slapping against your clit each time he bottoms out. "Pretty kitty- MY pretty kitty."

"Chan~" Your whines only made him growl and push into you harder. He was using both hands to hold you down, one in your hair and the other on your shoulder, but he trailed the lower of the two down to your ass after some time.

His hand comes down on your ass suddenly, making you yelp out of surprise. The yelp turns into a moan when his hand wraps around the base of your tail and tugs.

"A-Ah!?" He doesn't release it. Instead, he tightens his hold on your tail and continues to lightly tug on it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. Your hand that's not tangled in the sheets goes behind to push his hand away and Chan growls again, releasing your hair to dig his hands into your wrist and hold it above your head in order to get you to stop resisting him.

"You're gonna take it, right baby? Gonna let me fuck you full of my pups?" You attempt to push yourself up with your free hand, only to fall back down when his canines dig into the side of your neck. "Answer my fucking question before I lose my patience, kitty."

"Yes! I'll take it all. Anything for you, Channie…” You could feel the smirk break out against your neck, and it seems like your promise was enough to scratch an itch in his stupid dog brain.

now, days into his heat, you feel your own heat starting up- no doubt thanks to the restless hound that was adamant about rearranging your insides and trying to get you pregnant.

the two of you had barely left the room by the mid point of the next week. your owner had to call in a friend to bring you guys food every night- at first they weren't really aware of what was going on thanks to the vague texts chan sent (in the middle of you riding him, might i add), but boy could his friend smell the sex from the front door.

and channie had absolutely no plan to stop fucking you, even as your owner's friend poked their head in to check on you two for your owner. he simply gave them the nastiest side eye and tightened his grip around your neck, seemingly fucking into you even harder as he held eye contact and growled at the person to leave.

and then once they did leave, he continued fucking you as if the world was ending and the two of your would never see each other again.

“Attagirl, baby. Take this knot and Channie’ll breed your pains away.”

Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):

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