#The way I had started to work out again and then my body just keeps doing shit
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zyafics-recs · 3 days ago
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REBLOG, I WAS PACKING TO MOVE 🙂‍↕️ always these r my comments on my first AND SECOND read through because im actually obsessed with them ⬇️
also the two songs i've been playing on repeat for this fic is everytime by ariana grande and y.d.l.r by tory lanez. take from that as u will 😌
Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.
i cannot tell u how giggly i am rn
God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 
i love this so MUCH SO SO SO MUCH
You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.
i unfortunately do not know what a slapshot is
You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 
YOU TOOK MY IDEA AHHHH 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.
ohmygodohmygodohmygodddd
Bang!In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.
As he FUCKING SHOULD I AM LITERALLY ON THE EDGE OF MY SEATTT
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That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 
choose me love me fuck me (who said that)
Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."
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When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.
his jealousy is RADIATING and i’m eating all of it up
“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"
sometimes yes pls prove how obsessed u r w me
“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.
my favorite part of hate sex when they r LIARS
Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”
HES SUCH A DICK
His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."
OH I FUCKING LOVE HERRR
But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.
HE DOESNT EVEN LET HER ANSWER why is this so hotttt
Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”
i’m so quiet bc i’m so into this 🫣🫣🫣🫣
“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”
ONE FUCKING CHANCE
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He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.
he’s INSATIABLE
“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”
YKW FUCK U I WILL
He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."
so u give me earth-shattering smut and emotional angst? screw u
💌 i am absolutely enamored by the way u wrote their tension, how rafe fucking banged against the plexiglass and DARES her ohmygod i melted in a fucking puddle. ur smut was absolutely hot scorning riveting AND I WAS SO SURPRISED BY THIS MANS STAMINA LIKE CAN WE CATCH A BREATHE ugh ☺️💘 u did my req so much justice n gave me sm inspo i must write now
ex!reader who loves the game and wants to support her team but hockey captain!rafe is on the ice. he thinks she’s there for him but when she comes in with a date? and when they get put on the kiss cam? rafe slams into the glass to scare them? hate sex????
someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!toxic!rafe x ex!reader (+18)
warnings: veryyy long and 99% smut🙂‍↕️ the things i do for you...
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The cold air inside the rink always made your skin tingle. Your breath curled in front of you like smoke as you moved uncomfortably on the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you. This is why you hated fall. It was too cold to be outside, too early to be winter. But tonight wasn’t about the weather—it was about hockey.
Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.
“Everything okay?” The voice beside you pulled you back to reality.
Elijah, the guy you’d been seeing for the past couple of weeks, smiled at you, oblivious to the bullshit taking over your mind, and you gave him your best smile back.
“Yeah, just cold,” you said, trying to focus. You weren’t here for Rafe, not anymore. You loved hockey. You loved watching the boys skate across the ice, their power and grace.
Or at least that was what you kept telling yourself.
Elijah wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and you leaned in, feeling his warmth. The game was just about to start, and the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting shadows over the rink. The roar of the crowd drowned your thoughts for a moment as the players took the ice.
And then, as if the universe was personally trying to screw with you, you saw him.
Rafe.
Of course, he looked good.
God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 
He always had to be in charge, on and off the ice.
He still had that same cocky swagger that made you wanna scream… for entirely different reasons now.
You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.
You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 
His number. The one you’d always worn to support him when you were together. Out of all the team merch you owned, of course you had to wear his.
“You really like hockey a lot, huh?” Elijah asked, glancing down at your jersey.
“Yeah,” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve been following the team for a while.”
Lies. You loved hockey, sure. But you loved Rafe a little more. Or, you used to. Or, well, maybe that was still complicated.
The puck dropped, and the game started. For a while, you tried to focus on the action. Rafe was all over the ice, playing like the goddamn superstar he thought he was. You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze kept darting up toward the stands, like he knew you were there. And maybe he did
Halfway through the second period, he slammed into an opposing player, sending him crashing into the boards. The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd went wild, but you could feel your stomach knotting up. That had always been Rafe—intense, aggressive, unable to hold back. On the ice or off.
You tried to focus on Elijah, laughing at something he was saying, but your heart wasn’t in it. And then, just when you thought you’d survived the worst of it, the kiss cam flashed up on the big screen. Your laughter died in your throat as you realized what was happening, your face heating up instantly. You weren’t exactly embarrassed, but this was... awkward. 
“Aw, how cute,” He said, grinning as he pointed to the screen.
You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.
You could see him coming toward you, could see his lips getting closer, but all you could think about was—
Bang!
In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.
He looked like he was ready to tear Elijah apart, or you, or both of you. His chest was heaving, eyes blazing, standing mere inches away from where you sat. He had skated right into the glass.
Your heart was practically in your throat, and it wasn't from Elijah being close. The look on Rafe’s face as he stood on the other side of the glass?
That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 
And you hated that you still kind of liked it.
Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."
Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?
Those stupid words. Silently mouthed, but somehow loud enough to hit you like a punch through the glass. I dare you. God, what was wrong with him? He knew exactly how to push your buttons. And of course, it was working. He wasn’t just playing hockey—he was playing with you.
You could feel Elijah shifting next to you, still oblivious to the whole freaking drama unfolding right in front of him.
He was so sweet, too sweet, and it was almost infuriating right now because Rafe was standing there, with his stupid intense eyes, all but daring you to move on. Why did he have to look at you like that—like he knew you were still his.
The breakup had been brutal, the kind of messy, loud explosion where neither of you were willing to be the first to walk away. You were both too stubborn, too prideful. And now here you were, months later, still dealing with the fallout. 
Elijah finally leaned in, lips brushing yours, and you kissed him, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could feel was Rafe’s stare burning into you. The kiss cam lingered for a few seconds, and the crowd cheered, but all you felt was... empty.
When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.
You glanced down, avoiding his gaze, and tugged at the hem of his old jersey, suddenly feeling like you didn’t belong in it anymore. You leaned into Elijah, mostly out of spite at this point. You could practically hear Rafe’s teeth grinding from across the glass. Good. If he thought he could just walk around, acting like he owned the place—and you—then he deserved to stew in it a little.
But, of course, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just let something like that go. You watched as he skated back into play, but his eyes kept flicking up to where you sat, like he couldn’t stop checking to make sure you were still there. Still with Elijah. His shoulders were tense, movements a little too aggressive, like he was about to snap.
You tried to focus on the game again, but your mind kept drifting back to him. You hated this. You hated that he could still make you feel this way, even now, after everything.
After the fights, after the breakup, after swearing you were over him. Why was it so hard to let him go?
The third period started, and Rafe was everywhere, throwing his weight around like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. Every hit was harder, every pass sharper. It was like he was playing angry. And you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing you’d gotten under his skin.
But then, with less than five minutes left in the game, things escalated. He slammed into one of the opposing players so hard that the guy went down, and the whistle blew immediately. The crowd was roaring, but Rafe didn’t back off. He stood over the guy, glaring down at him like he was ready to throw a punch.
"Jesus," Elijah muttered beside you. "What the hell’s his problem?"
You didn’t answer. You knew exactly what his problem was.
The ref skated over, shouting something at Rafe, but his eyes weren’t on the ref. They were still on you, even as the other guy on the ice slowly got back to his feet. The arena was buzzing, the crowd getting rowdy, and for a second, you thought Rafe was going to lose it right there. His fists clenched, jaw set—he looked like he was ready to drop gloves and start swinging.
And then he smirked.
It was that same cocky smirk you knew so well, the one he always flashed right before doing something reckless. The ref sent him to the penalty box, and he skated off, still with that fucking look plastered on his face. Your heart was racing, your body tense. Elijah had leaned back in his seat, totally unaware about everything.
“Man, that guy’s intense,” Elijah said, shaking his head, eyes still on the ice.
You didn’t answer. Intense didn’t even begin to cover it.
Rafe was sitting in the penalty box now, helmet off, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t just about murder a guy on the ice. You could feel his eyes on you, even from all the way across the rink. You hated it. You hated that he could still get to you like this.
The last few minutes of the game passed in an instant. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, not to the score, not to the plays. You were too busy trying not to think about Rafe, about the way he had looked at you. About the way it had made you feel.
When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Elijah stood up, stretching, turning to you with a smile.
“Ready to head out?” he asked.
You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”
As you made your way toward the exit, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the tension building in your chest. It wasn’t over. It never really was with Rafe.
And you knew—somehow—you weren’t getting out of here without seeing him again.
You reached the bottom of the stands, where a crowd had gathered near the exit. Elijah was still chatting about the game, still clueless. But you were distracted, scanning the crowd without even realizing it.
And then you saw him. Of course, you did.
Rafe was leaning against the wall, still in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes locked on yours the second you stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t even pretend to care about the people around him—his gaze was dark, intense, like a predator waiting for its moment.
You hated how your heart skipped.
Elijah noticed you freeze and followed your gaze, his smile faltering when he saw Rafe standing there.
"Isn’t that the captain guy?" he asked, glancing between you and Rafe, confused.
You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to keep moving. “Yeah. That’s him.”
As you passed by, Rafe pushed off the wall, stepping right into your path. Elijah, sweet, unsuspecting Elijah, paused beside you.
"Leaving already?" Rafe’s voice was low, casual, but his eyes were locked on yours, ignoring Elijah completely. "Didn’t even stick around to congratulate the team?"
You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your cool. "It’s late, Rafe. We’re heading out."
But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He took a step closer, his towering frame making Elijah shift uncomfortably. "You didn’t used to leave so soon," he said, voice dripping with that familiar cockiness. "Used to be the last one out."
Because you’d always let him fuck you in the locker room.
Elijah cleared his throat, trying to stand his ground. "Uh, yeah, we’ve got plans after this."
Rafe’s eyes flicked to him for the briefest second, before landing back on you.
"Plans, huh?"
Your pulse was hammering, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Why did he always have to do this—why couldn’t he just let you go?
“Rafe, we’re done,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shred of your composure. “You don’t get to pull this shit anymore.”
He glanced at Elijah briefly, his gaze cold and dismissive, then back at you. “You sure about that?” he asked, “Because it doesn’t look like it.”
You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to calm yourself. You didn’t need this right now. Not with Elijah here. Not after everything.
“Let’s go Elijah,” you said, tugging at Elijah’s arm, desperate to get out of there before things escalated. But Rafe wasn’t having it.
He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path like he had some kind of claim on you. And God, the worst part was—you weren’t sure he was wrong.
You glanced at Elijah, who was staring at the two of you like he had walked into the middle of a conversation he couldn’t quite follow. “Look, dude,” he started, awkwardly laughing, “I don’t know what this is, but—”
“It’s nothing,” you cut him off quickly, your voice tight. “Let’s just go.”
But Rafe wasn’t about to let it go. 
“Yeah, Elijah,” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s nothing.” His eyes flicked to you, dark and daring, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with the same fire.
Elijah’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning.
“Shit,” he muttered, distracted. “I’ve gotta take this call real quick. Give me a sec?” He stepped away, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the middle of the hallway, your body practically vibrating.
He was on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker room door. 
“Rafe, what the fuck—” you hissed, but he wasn’t letting go.
You tried to resist, but something inside you broke down—the anger, the unresolved pull between you two. And maybe it was the way he still had that stupid hold on you, the way your body responded when you shouldn’t want it to.
Or maybe it was the fact that you’d never fully closed the door on Rafe.
He shoved the door open, pulling you inside the dimly lit hallway that led to the locker room. The second the door closed, you spun around, shoving him in the chest hard. 
“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?”
Rafe barely flinched, his gaze smoldering as he crowded you against the wall. 
“Yeah? You didn’t seem to think so when you were wearing my jersey tonight.”
“That was an accident.”
“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"
Your heart was pounding, and not just because Rafe had you pinned against the wall like he always fucking did— God, why did he have to be so damn close? The scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from the game, sending your mind spiraling. He was overwhelming, and you hated it. You hated him for still making you feel like this.
“Get off me,” you snapped, but it came out weaker than you intended. The way his blue eyes were boring into yours, like he could see through all your bullshit, wasn’t helping.
Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.
“C’mon, baby, don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted. You show up, wearin’ my number, sitting there with some random guy like I don’t still own you.” 
He stepped closer, caging you in completely. You pressed your hands against his chest, but it wasn’t like you were really pushing him away. And he knew it.
“You don’t own shit,” you spat, glaring up at him. But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you didn’t believe them. The truth was, part of you had always been his.
Rafe’s lips curved into a smug grin as if he could read every thought running through your head.
“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’ve been thinkin’ about me all night.” His breath was hot on your skin, and you hated how much you wanted to close the distance between you.
Your jaw clenched as you tried to muster the strength to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone, but he was right. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, he was still in your head, under your skin. The way his body hovered over yours—it was like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t spent the last few months trying to forget him.
His hand found your hip, fingers pressing into your skin through your jeans, and you felt your body betray you. You cursed yourself silently as heat pooled low in your stomach. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want him to know how much power he still had. But damn it, he knew. He always fucking knew.
“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.
Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”
Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.
“Don’t—”
But he was already kissing you, hard and rough like he owned you, like you were his and his alone.
And the worst part? You kissed him back. His hands were on you, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You wanted to shove him away, to slap that stupid look off his face—but your body had other plans. 
This was so wrong, on so many levels. 
You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Rafe didn’t back off. He was staring down at you like you were his next meal, like he’d been starving without you.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” you bit out, trying to cling to some sense of control.
Rafe’s grin widened, wicked and knowing. He leaned in again, lips ghosting over yours. “We both know that's a lie.”
You clenched your fists, frustrated beyond belief. Frustrated at him, at yourself, at how easy it was for him to pull you right back in.
“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the breathless tone in your voice told a different story.
Rafe’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly sexy way he always did.
“Oh, you will.”
And God help you—you knew he was right. That fucking arrogance. It crawled under your skin, set your blood on fire in ways it shouldn’t.
You wanted to punch him, shove him, do something to wipe that smug expression off his face. But instead, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back toward you, kissing him with all the fury you felt.
His lips crushed against yours, and it wasn’t gentle—there was nothing soft or sweet about this. It was all heat and frustration, months of unresolved anger bursting out in one chaotic, messy kiss.
His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."
Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you yanked him down, kissing him like you needed to get all of this out of your system. His hands roamed your body, possessive, rough, and you hated how much you craved him, like you were still his.
You weren’t his. You couldn’t be.
But every heated breath you took, every desperate movement your body made, was telling you otherwise.
When his lips moved down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, you gasped, tilting your head back as your resolve crumbled to pieces. He knew exactly what to do, how to make you fall apart, and it pissed you off that he still had that power.
His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease, pressing you harder against the wall. Your breath hitched, the cold tile behind you making you gasp. His mouth was on you, hot and demanding, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered.
Not Elijah, not the fact that this was so damn wrong, not the months of hurt and anger you’d been holding onto.
There was only Rafe. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was trying to stake his claim all over again. Like you hadn’t been apart at all.
"Tell me you don’t want this," Rafe muttered against your lips.
You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. You did want this. You hated that you did, but fuck, you couldn’t lie—not to him, not to yourself.
“I—” You choked on the words, eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you thought maybe you’d find some kind of resolve, some way to pull yourself back from him.
But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.
“Fuck,” you gasped, head spinning as his hands explored your body like he had every right to. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free of him.
Rafe pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, breathless and flushed. “Yeah, baby. That's what I thought."
His hands gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, you let out a frustrated, muffled groan, your fingers still tangled in his hair. It was a lot longer than the last time you’d seen him.
You could feel every inch of his muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was suffocating in the best way, and you hated yourself for how much you wanted it.
How much you wanted him.
“You’re such an ass,” you gasped between kisses, your breath hitching when his mouth moved down to your neck. You felt him grin against your skin, the bastard.
“You say that like it’s supposed to stop you.” His voice was rough, low in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “But I don’t think it is.”
You were about to fire back, but his hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and whatever you were going to say was swallowed by the heat rushing through you. You hated that he still knew exactly how to get to you—how to pull you apart and leave you helpless against him.
“Rafe, this—” Your words were cut off when he bit down gently on your collarbone, sending a shockwave through your body. You clutched at his shirt.
“This what?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes intense. “This a mistake? Because I don’t think that’s what your body’s saying.”
You just glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. You hated that he was right. Again.
Always.
“I told you,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, “this doesn’t mean anything.”
Rafe’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. There was no denying it—you were here, and you weren’t leaving. Not yet.
Maybe not for a while.
And Rafe knew it.
His hands moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitched. This was dangerous territory. You knew that. 
“Last chance,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to stop?”
You should’ve said yes. You should’ve shoved him away and walked out of there with what little dignity you had left. But instead, you kissed him again—harder this time, angrier, like you needed to prove something to yourself. And maybe you did.
He yanked your shirt over your head in one rough motion, and you weren’t gentle either, tugging at his jersey until it was off and tossed aside. His hands were everywhere—on your back, in your hair, slipping under the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down with the same reckless urgency you’d been feeling since you laid eyes on him tonight.
“I hate you,” you whispered as your nails dragged down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.
Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”
Your jeans hit the floor, and he wasted no time, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing you down on the bench, his body heavy against yours.
Everything was messy, and rushed, like neither of you could get enough. Like you were trying to erase the months of distance, of frustration, in the way you kissed him back, bit his lip, tugged at his hair.
 You hated how much you needed this. 
“Still think this doesn’t mean anything?” Rafe rasped, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathless and wild.
You could barely think, let alone speak, but somehow, you managed to gasp out, “Positive.”
Rafe’s mouth moved down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
It was wrong, it was toxic, but fuck—there was something about the way he touched you. And body, traitorous and weak, responded like it always had.
You were furious with yourself, with him, with everything, but the anger only made it all hotter, more intense.
His fingers brushed against the seam of your panties, teasing, barely touching you, but doing enough to have you drenched. 
“You’re soaked,” he murmured, almost amused, slipping one finger under the fabric to run along your folds, barely dipping inside before pulling back out, "Was this all for Elijah?"
Sonofabitch.
“Stop talking,” you spat, but your voice was shaky, showing him the way you were falling apart under his touch. Rafe chuckled low in his throat, his finger moving back, this time slipping inside you, deep and slow.
You gasped, your head falling back as he began moving his finger, curling it inside you in just the right way. Your body responded immediately, hips jerking against him, desperate for more, but he took his time. He added another finger, stretching you out as his thumb rubbed slow circles over your clit, making your legs tremble beneath him.
He sped up, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? All those nights pretending you don’t think about me, but look at you now.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, his fingers driving you closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed.
His thumb pressed harder against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you. “Tell me how bad you need this.”
“Rafe—” you gasped, your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The tension inside you was coiled so tightly, so close to snapping. You hated him, hated yourself, but the words slipped out anyway. “I need it.”
He groaned, pleased, and that was all it took. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, until your body gave in completely. You hadn’t had a proper orgasm in months. Nothing could get you off properly. Your walls clenched around his fingers the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin as you trembled beneath him, lost in the sensation.
But he didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure, his fingers still moving inside you as you rode out the aftershocks. When you finally caught your breath, he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
He shoved his pants down, not bothering to take them off completely, just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched when you felt him against you—hard, hot, and ready—and every rational thought you had left disappeared in that moment. He lined himself up, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy.
Before you could respond, he pushed into you in one hard, deliberate thrust. Your gasp turned into a low, breathless moan as your back arched, your hands gripping his shoulders for something to hold on to. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, was overwhelming, almost too much, but exactly what you needed.
Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless, gasping for air. 
There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tender.
His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you like he was trying to remind you who you belonged to.
And you hated how good it felt.
“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, but your body was betraying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. 
He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every night since we ended.”
You couldn’t.
The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but instead, a moan escaped your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you. Your body arched against his, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.
“Fuck,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, every nerve in your body on fire.
“That’s what I thought,” Rafe growled, his pace quickening, the force of his thrusts making the bench creak beneath you.
The sound of the bench, the way his body pressed into yours so perfectly, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all made it impossible to think straight. You should have been disgusted with yourself for letting it get this far, for letting him have this kind of control over you. 
“I fucking hate you,” you managed to gasp out between breaths.
Rafe chuckled, “Yeah? Then why do you sound like that, huh?” His voice was taunting, filled with the arrogance you hated, “This pussy still mine, huh?”
You loved the way he grabbed you like you were his, even though you’d sworn, sworn, you were done with him.
You were still in love, weren’t you? Even after all the shit, all the screaming matches, the nights spent crying because of him. That was the part that pissed you off the most.
Before you knew, his hands were flipping you over so fast your knees hit the bench before you could react.
“Rafe—mmh,” you gasped, but your words died in your throat when he shoved you forward, pressing your chest flat against the cold wood of the bench. You barely had a second to brace yourself before his hands were gripping your ass, spreading you open for him.
He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He was already dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, teasing, knowing how much you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t say it.
You squirmed, hating how desperate you felt, hating how your body responded to him like this. “Fuck, Rafe, stop teasing—”
“You want more?” he cut you off, voice dark and dripping with arrogance. He slapped your ass, just enough to sting, and you yelped, your back arching instinctively. “You’re gonna have to beg for it.”
"Like hell," you spat back.
He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth right by your ear.
 “You can act tough all you want, but I know how much you want this,” he gritted out, his cock sliding against your folds again, torturously slow. “I know how much you need it.”
Before you could snap back, he thrust into you hard, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, hands gripping the edges of the bench, and Rafe didn’t even give you a second to adjust. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, faster this time, deeper.
The angle had you seeing stars. The bench was narrow, forcing your legs closer together, making everything tighter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, hips moving back to meet his thrusts even though your mind was screaming at you to get a grip.
His hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice low and rough as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your legs tremble. “So fucking tight for me.”
He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you on the edge in seconds. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your throat, your hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure built, higher and higher until you felt like you might break apart.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, his voice thick with lust. “I can feel it. Fuck.”
You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but it was useless. He knew exactly how to break you.
“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whimper as you felt the pleasure rising fast, threatening to consume you.
“Do it,” Rafe growled, his fingers rubbing harder, faster. “Come for me, baby.”
And you did.
Your orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision blurred, your body shaking as the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him, and Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, relentless, brutal, until your entire body was trembling.
But he wasn’t done.
He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.
He pounded into you, his grip on your ass bruising, and you clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the lockers. The sound of metal creaking under the force of his thrusts only made it hotter, more desperate. You could feel another orgasm building, and you hated him for it—hated how easily he could pull them from you. 
“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”
And you hated that some twisted part of you wanted it to be true.
Your legs tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.
And God, you couldn’t.
His grip on your ass was rough, bruising, but it only made you moan louder. You were on the verge again—your body still tingling from the last orgasm, but the way he moved inside you, the way his teeth grazed your neck, it had you spiraling toward another one, faster than you thought possible.
“Look at you,” Rafe groaned, lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, a wild look on his face that sent a thrill down your spine. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”
You did. Because no matter how much you hated him, how much you wanted to hate him—there was a part of you that still belonged to him. A part of you that couldn’t walk away.
His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw—and you couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your throat as he kept driving into you.
“Say it,” he growled, “Say you’re mine.”
You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to fight back, but every nerve in your body was betraying you. The way his body fit against yours, the way he moved inside you, it was all too much. You were coming again, and you hated it.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild. “Say it.”
You wanted to spit in his face. But your body was telling a different story, hips bucking against him, legs tightening around his waist again.
“R-Rafe,” you whimpered, hating how weak you sounded, how desperate.
His smirk was infuriating, but fuck, it was hot.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine. Always have been.”
And then he slammed into you one last time, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the orgasm tore through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. You cried out, head thrown back against the lockers as your body shook with the force of it, your nails raking down his back.
Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he rode out your orgasm, his movements growing sloppier, more erratic. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hips jerking against yours as he finally let go, his release hitting hard. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, as he held you against him, buried deep.
The second his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened, reality came crashing back in. 
What the fuck had you done?
You pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between you, but he wasn’t letting go that easily. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still had something to prove.
“Get off,” you muttered, your voice weak, but sharper than before.
He chuckled, that low, arrogant sound that drove you crazy. “That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago.”
You shot him a glare, shoving at his chest again, harder this time. “I’m serious, Rafe. Move.”
Reluctantly, he let go, stepping back just enough for you to slide off the locker and onto shaky legs. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe’s hand shot out to steady you, but you jerked away from him, pulling your jeans back up with shaky hands.
He leaned against the locker, smirking like he hadn’t just torn your world apart all over again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
You wanted to scream at him, to throw something at his face. But instead, you grabbed your shirt off the floor, yanking it over your head as you tried to steady your breath.
“Good luck finding your date.”
Elijah. You’d come to the game with Elijah.
You shook your head as you zipped up your jeans and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. You avoided looking at him, knowing that if you did, you’d see the smug satisfaction on his face that would only make you feel worse.
He pushed himself off the locker and took a step closer to you. You flinched, stepping back instinctively. “This can’t happen again.”
His smirk slipped for a moment as he looked at you. H e closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react, “You’re choosing him?”
You yanked your wrist out of his grip, your heart racing as you forced yourself to take a step back, putting distance between the two of you, “You’re the one who chose yourself.”
His eyes darkened, searching your face, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Maybe he thought he still had you wrapped around his finger.
“You’re the one who walked away,” you added, hating how your voice trembled, “So don’t act like I owe you anything.”
Rafe’s hand hovered like he was about to reach for you again, but he didn’t. “That’s not how I remember it.” 
Your stomach twisted, “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t—” You glanced at the door, feeling the weight of Elijah waiting for you. The one person who was good for you, who actually wanted to be with you.
But the worst part? You were still thinking about Rafe. Even after everything, you were still here, breathless, a mess because of him.
He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and for a second, you thought he might apologize. Maybe say something real. But Rafe Cameron didn’t do apologies. 
He raised an eyebrow, “Really?” His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face in a gesture that was far too intimate, given everything that had just happened. “Then why are you still standing here?”
You flinched, stepping back. Why were you still standing there? You had no good answer, at least not one you were ready to admit.
“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction, not again. “You’re wrong.”
Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think I am.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight, trying to push back the tears. This was all wrong. It was always wrong with Rafe, “Stop.”
It sounded like a plea—a plea for him to stop talking, stop looking at you like that, stop making you feel so small and yet so overwhelmed all at once.
Rafe sighed, stepping back just a fraction, and for a second, his gaze lifted. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now, like that made a difference.
“You always do,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. The truth slipped out before you could stop it, and there it was.
His jaw clenched, "I don’t mean to," he muttered, his voice low. "You know that."
"Does it even matter?" You felt the bitterness rise in your throat, along with something else—something fragile and painful. "You still do it. Whether you mean to or not."
Rafe stayed quiet, and you hated that silence. He didn’t have an answer. He never did, not for this. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your jacket, something to keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say something you’d regret. But regret was already everywhere, suffocating you both.
“I thought we were past this,” you said finally, barely more than a whisper. “I thought I was past this.” But clearly, you weren’t. Clearly, some part of you was still here, with him, in the wreckage you’d both created.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, torn. “It’s not that simple.”
"It should be." Your voice cracked. You hated how much this hurt. How much he could still hurt you.
It wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to still care this much. You weren’t supposed to still feel this.
Rafe sighed, taking another step back, giving you space. But it wasn’t the kind of space you wanted. It wasn’t the kind that would make things easier. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.
You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t want anything from you." 
That was the truth, or at least it was supposed to be. You didn’t want anything he had to offer, not anymore. Not when every time you reached for it, it slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you emptier than before.
But there was still that ache, that feeling between you two, the one that dragged you back here even when you knew better. You wished you could kill it, cut it out of you like some infected part, but it was tangled too deep. And maybe a small part of you didn’t want to.
“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, like he was seeing right through you. “But you’re still here.”
“I don’t know why,” you whispered, blinking back tears. Fuck, you hated this. Hated how vulnerable you felt, how easily he could unravel you, even now. “I shouldn’t be.”
He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. Like he wanted you to figure it out on your own.
But you didn’t know how. You never did when it came to him.
"I’m sorry," he said, and this time, it felt real. There was no arrogance. Just Rafe, standing there, as broken as you felt. "I don’t know how to fix this."
You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “There’s nothing left to fix, Rafe. We’ve already destroyed it.”
His face twisted, like he didn’t want to believe it. Like he was still holding onto some small piece of hope. "We could—"
"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "We can’t."
You couldn’t keep doing this. The push and pull, the endless cycle of hurt and apologies that never really fixed anything. You couldn’t keep pretending that something would change, that he would change.
Because you both knew he wouldn’t.
He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and you could see it—the realization sinking in. 
He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.
You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."
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papaya-twinks · 1 day ago
Text
get over it! - l.n - p.2
Warnings: Angst, swearing, mental breakdown, breaking glass.
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
A/N - sorry this took so long, I was doing all Lando’s birthday ones x
parts 🧡
Time Skip - Formula One Baku Grand Prix Pre-Race
Baku had always been a city of contrasts—historical yet modern, chaotic yet beautiful. And today, it felt like the perfect reflection of Lando's mood as he walked down the paddock, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, jaw clenched tight.
Since your little ‘incident’ with Lando at Qualifying, you’d made sure to steer well out of his way. You would rather not be blamed for his driving by Zak or Andrea anyhow. It did slightly piss off the mechanics on Lando’s side of the garage, however.
Your energy was something that helped a lot of them to keep going, and now you were steering clear of Lando’s while side of the garage. You hadn’t even noticed him sliding into Oscar’s garage, as you handed around drinks.
“Y/N,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder, your shoulders immediately raising defensively, your head turning away from, signalling your dislike in speaking to him. “Y/N," he pressed, this time with more urgency. "Can we talk?"
You shook your head, still not looking at him. "I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” you said simply, handing some of Oscar’s mechanics some drinks. "You’re avoiding me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can’t just walk away, not after what happened,” he said firmly.
“Yes I can, besides, why do you even care? It’s not like you to do so,” you said, placing your tray down, taking some new cups from the stack. “Some of my mechanics are pissed about you not being in the garage and stuff,” he mumbled, slightly annoyed.
“Oh, and they made you drag your ass here to ask?” you asked, a scoff on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes. “Sorry for asking you to do your own damn job,” he snapped, his voice filling with the frustration and bite from earlier.
“Let me do my fucking job, and stop talking to me, then,” you said, your voice with equally as much spite as you glared at him, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed. You rolled your eyes, walking past him, your chin held high - so what if he was a driver? He didn’t own you!
You’d had many fights with Lando, countless, some of them about such minor things, you almost laughed when you looked back at them. Of course, there was a time, even after the Sochi incident, where maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could have forgiven you.
But then again, it was Lando Norris. He’d do anything just to fuck shit up.
Flashback - 2021 Mexican Grand Prix
It had started innocently enough - a late-night discussion about his diet. He had asked you to double-check his hydration formula before heading to the gym. You’d pointed out that it didn’t seem balanced, that he'd been skipping meals. He’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But that was just the start. 
“Why do you always act like you know better?” he had snapped, voice low but cutting. “I’m the one racing out there. You’re just a helper,”. His words stung. You didn’t respond immediately, too shocked by the sudden shift in his tone. But when you did, your voice was tight with restraint.
“Just a helper?” you’d repeated, incredulous. “I’ve been working with you for years, Lando. Don’t act like I don’t know how to do my job,” you had said, your voice edged with a hint of shock and hurt. “You don’t work with me, Y/N, you’re not on my level, you won’t ever be on my level. You work for the team, at least get it right,”.
“You can’t just skip meals and expect your hydration to be perfect,” you had replied, a little more firmly. “Your body needs food to process all the fluids properly. If you’re running on empty, no amount of water is going to make a difference.”
“I’m fine,” Lando shot back immediately, his tone defensive. “I told you, I’m good. I just didn’t feel like eating. It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice becoming more and more frustrated. Why couldn’t he understand what you were saying? And why did all your arguments have to be centred around water?
For a moment, it seemed like Lando was going to say something else, but instead, he crossed his arms, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t need a babysitter, Y/N. I’m not a child. I know how to do my job,” he had said, his eyes narrowed once more.
The words hit harder than they should have. You’d been working with him for quite a while, supporting him in every way you could, and this was the first time you felt like he didn’t appreciate it. “I never said you were,” you had said, your voice cold now, your patience worn thin.
“But when you start acting like a diva and skipping meals while I’m the one having to pick up the pieces, then yeah, maybe I do need to step in,” you said, your jaw set firmly and your eyes narrowed. Lando opened his mouth to retort, but you turned away before he could, your back to him as you grabbed your tablet from the table.
Your hands had been shaking with frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I don’t have time for this right now,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I’ve got a hundred other things to do,” you moved to his door, only stopped by his voice.
He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you. After a long, charged silence, he finally spoke. “You think I’m just acting like a diva, huh?” he asked, his voice colder than you would have thought, sharp and almost like a snarl.
“Im not the one who fucking acts like I run the whole team off my own back - all you do is give water to people, Y/N, you’re useless!” he snapped, his voice raising as you flinched. “Useless? I’m not-,” you started, your own voice becoming louder.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You think, just coz a few people like you, that you’re the one managing this whole team? You don’t do shit, Y/N, you’re not important! People would be sad you left your day or two and forget about it, okay? You’d be replaced in an instant, you have no skill!”.
All of this. Over a water plan. “I…fuck you, Lando,” you said, your eyes brimming with tears, voice cracking as you stepped out the door, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed away from him,”
Present Time - Formula One Baku Grand Prix
Sure, you were pissed at Lando, but it really wasn’t fair to take it out on the whole team, do, begrudgingly, you dragged yourself to Lando’s side of the garage to hand out refreshments, much to the relief of the mechanics and engineers.
Just imagining if Sochi had never happened in 2021, or you’d never said the comment that you’d said, it would’ve been some different, and you would’ve been cheering and going crazy with the team, watching Lando climb higher and higher from his low position.
You could practically feel the tension radiating off of Lando’s car, the stress of a potential championship fight that could be washed away due to one bad qualifying session, or the struggles of getting through to at least a points playing position, everyone was on edge.
Lando had a lot of positions to make up if he wanted to salvage his weekend, or at least begin to try and gain some points. And boy, did he make up positions. One after another, he passed car after car, refusing to let the mistake of qualifying 16th define his race. He was determined to prove himself.
As the race wore on, Lando's mood lifted. Every overtake, every clean pass, brought him closer to his goal. He had no idea what position he was in now—he was just racing, just pushing harder than he ever had. When the final laps came, he found himself fighting for 4th. And when he crossed the line, there it was: 4th place.
But all you could do was bury it deep inside of you and push Lando out of your mind - sometimes there were times when you wished you could have screamed and cheered with the team, like in Miami. But you had Oscar���s current winning margin to distract you from the hurt in the pit of your belly.
Time Skip - Post Race - Baku
The mechanics jostled round the garage, all talking, but slowly leaving, exiting the garage as the sky darkened, a pale shade of greyish-blue, a colour you found quite beautiful actually. Like a reflection of the ocean, in some ways.
“Why are you still here?” a voice snapped you from your train of thought, ruining what was otherwise quite a peaceful movement, your gaze forced sway from the clouds. “None of your business,” you scoffed, picking up your drinks tray from the side as Lando stared.
“I mean, kinda is,” he replied, his nose scrunched distastefully, like you were something or someone lower than him, which was how he perceived you anyways. “Everyone else has gone home,” he pointed out.
“Cheers Captain Obvious,” you said sarcastically, the glasses tinkling on your tray, some with lines of red wine at the bottom, beams of white from the lights above reflecting off the glass. “Whatever,” Lando said, his voice nearly a mumble as he dug he is hands into his pockets.
“Look, I’d appreciate if you stayed the fuck out of my way,” Lando said sarcastically, “I can’t stand your stupid presence,” he snapped, “there’s nothing to fucking be so happy about, I can’t have you annoyingly positive energy around all the time,”.
“Excuse me?” you said, not quite sure what to say after that little outburst of his came from. “You heard me, you’re stupidly positive and all you do is frolic around with that stupid little tray of yours,” Lando snapped, pushing the tray out of your hand, the plate clattering onto the floor, the glasses shattering at your feet.
“Lando, what the fuck is your issue?!” you half-screamed, scrambling away from the shards of glass scattered on the floor, cutting at the soles of your sneakers. “Just….fuck off, okay?!” he said, his curls a messy heap on his head, his eyes wild.
He looked on the verge of a full breakdown as you stared, in shock at the whole thing. He’d been fine a few seconds ago, what the hell had happened? “Lando, I didn’t-,” you started, raising your hands almost in surrender.
“I don’t care, I don’t care, Y/N!” he covered his ears, “Just fuck off!”. You said nothing, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stumbled back, away from the glassy heap on the floor, and rushing away from the garage. You’d never seen Lando break down before.
Was he…Was he okay?
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official-cvntified-gay · 1 day ago
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TAMING THE BRAT masterlist
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pairing: bodyguard!rio x spoiled brat!reader
warnings: smut
wc: 2.3k +
Rio Vidal is accustomed to working with brats. Especially one as infuriating as you.
Your temper was as sharp as the knives she kept tucked into the many pockets of her tactical vest, your every movement exuding a mix of defiance and arrogance. It grated on Rio’s nerves, but there was also something strangely captivating about your stubbornness—your refusal to bend, to yield.
She had been assigned to you as your bodyguard—protection for a supermodel who found it too much of a burden to follow simple orders. You were her charge, her responsibility. But that didn’t mean Rio was not fed up to your little tantrums, especially when you stomped around the hotel room like a child who didn’t get what she wanted.
“Stop acting like this,” Rio’s voice was calm but firm as she stood between you and the door. You were already seething, and she could feel your anger radiating off you, but there was no way you were leaving. Not without her approval.
You sneered at her, the lines of your designer dress practically cutting into your skin with how tightly you crossed your arms. “I can do whatever I want. You’re just my bodyguard, not my jailer.”
The words bit at Rio, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she took a step forward, her body perfectly still. She didn’t let your haughty expression distract her. No, she was focused on the task at hand: keeping you safe, even if you couldn’t see the importance of it.
“I know,” she said, voice low and laced with steel. “But this is what you don’t get, sweetheart. You’re not getting past me.”
With a frustrated growl, you turned on your heel, intent on marching toward the door again, your heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. But Rio was faster. You barely had time to react before her arms locked around your waist, pinning you in place, holding you firm against her chest.
“Get your hands off!” you shouted, squirming in her grip as she dragged you away from the door. She was unyielding, her hold stronger than anything you could muster.
Rio could feel your struggle in the way your body pressed against hers, a mixture of heat and anger seeping through the thin fabric of your dress. She didn’t flinch, didn’t let you go. If anything, she pulled you closer, tightening her grip around your waist.
“I’m not letting you out of this room princess, not until you calm down,” she murmured into your ear, her voice a silky whisper that only made your irritation burn hotter. But there was a subtle tug in her words, something that reached down to places inside of you that you’d prefer to ignore.
You tried again to fight her off, twisting, kicking your heels against her shins, but it only made her hold tighten, her hands gripping the curve of your body with unrelenting precision. The scent of her cologne mixed with the sharp tang of her presence, filling the space between you.
“Stop fighting, doll” she coaxed, her lips dangerously close to your ear now. “You know you’ll only make this harder for yourself. I’ll always win.”
Your body was starting to betray you, the friction between you both making your breath quicken, your chest rising and falling sharply. Despite yourself, you couldn’t ignore the pull between you—the way her grip on you felt almost possessive, the way she anchored you to the present, making you aware of every inch of her body pressed against yours.
“Why are you doing this?” You could barely get the words out as her chest heaved against your back, the warmth of her body seeping into yours, making you feel trapped in more ways than one. You wanted to argue, but your voice had faltered. Rio knew your attraction to her and she used it.
Rio’s answer came not in words but in the slow, deliberate way her lips brushed the side of your neck, a kiss so light it made your knees weak. “Because you need to be kept in line. Your dad will kill me if you left this apartment. And because you want me to.”
You froze, every muscle in your body going rigid, though you were still trapped in her arms. You could feel the steady rhythm of her heart against your back, could feel her breath against your skin, and it sent a jolt of something electric through you.
She leaned in, lips now dangerously close to your ear. “I’m here to protect you. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll realize that my way is the only way.”
The intensity of her words hit you harder than you’d expected. And despite your pride, despite your resistance, a small, treacherous part of you began to acknowledge the truth in them.
And just like that, Rio Vidal’s control over you didn’t feel so suffocating anymore. It felt almost… inevitable.
As she tightened her grip, pulling you flush against her, your breath hitched. “Stop pretending you don’t want this, bratting out more than usual to have me react like this ” she said, her tone low, predatory.
It was the challenge that did it. You knew she was right—you couldn’t deny the pull between you anymore. In that moment, Rio Vidal had tamed the brat you’d been, and what replaced that was something even more dangerous: need.
Rio didn’t hesitate, not for a second. The moment your defiance wavered, she took control. She always did.
She could feel it—the subtle shift in your posture, the brief crack in your otherwise perfect facade. You were still angry, still trying to fight it, but there was a dangerous tension brewing beneath that exterior. Something raw. Something real.
With a swift motion, she turned you around, her hands firm at your waist, pressing you against the nearest wall. The sudden shift left you breathless, your body now trapped between Rio’s steady presence and the cold wall behind you. You tried to squirm, but the warmth of her body pressed against yours, impossibly close, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt your resolve start to slip.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Rio’s voice was low, her words carrying a weight that sent a shiver down your spine. Her lips were a breath away from your ear, teasing, taunting you in the most deliciously maddening way.
You hated how it made you feel. How her presence made everything inside of you tighten. You hated how your breath was already shallow, how your body was betraying you in the way it leaned into hers.
Rio could sense the change. She could feel the vulnerability creeping into your defiance. With a quick motion, she captured your chin between her fingers, tilting your face up to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dark with a promise—one that you could not escape, no matter how much you wanted to.
“You’re not leaving this room until I say so,” Rio murmured, her lips ghosting over yours in a barely-there kiss. It was a tease, a challenge. You could feel her control, her dominance, and yet there was something in her eyes that promised something else—a pull, a connection that made you feel both terrified and alive.
You tried to push her away, but your strength was nothing compared to hers. She was unyielding. Her lips crushed against yours with a hunger you weren’t prepared for. She kissed you deeply, forcefully, her hands sliding into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer.
For a moment, you forgot to fight.
Your body melted into hers as she took control, and you didn’t have the strength to stop her. Not anymore.
Rio’s hands roamed your body with practiced ease, pushing you deeper into the wall as she explored, claiming every inch of you with her touch. She made no effort to hide the way her fingers lingered, how she caressed your skin like she owned it—and for this moment, you realized, she did.
You gasped as she pulled away, her breath hot on your neck as she pressed herself against you, her body demanding submission in the most intoxicating way. "You think you’re in control?" she whispered, her voice full of amusement and authority. "You’re mine, sweetheart. And you’ll learn that the hard way."
“You think you can keep fighting me?” Her voice was a low growl against your ear, lips grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. The scent of her cologne was intoxicating, mingling with the heat of her breath as she pressed her body into yours, pinning you so you had no room to move.
Your dress was already half unzipped, hanging precariously off your shoulders, but Rio didn’t bother with the rest. Instead, her fingers hooked into the fabric, pulling it down, exposing the curve of your collarbone. Her eyes darkened as she took you in, a predatory gleam lighting up her gaze.
“Such a pretty little brat,” she murmured, her lips brushing down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You could feel her smile against your skin when your breath hitched—a sound you couldn’t quite stifle. “You like this, don’t you? Having someone put you in your place.”
You wanted to snap back, to deny it, but the words died on your lips as her hands roamed lower, claiming the exposed skin of your waist. Rio’s touch was both demanding and teasing, fingers ghosting over your body with a precision that left you aching for more.
Your knees nearly buckled when her hand slipped under your dress, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. She watched your reaction with a satisfied smirk, enjoying how your bravado crumbled under her touch.
“Tell me to stop,” she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper against your lips. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
But you couldn’t. Instead, a strangled gasp escaped you when her hand cupped you through the thin lace of your underwear, her fingers pressing on your clit just enough to make your breath hitch.
“Just as I thought,” Rio murmured, a dark chuckle escaping her. “You need someone to take charge, don’t you? To show you exactly where you belong.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. Her lips crashed into yours, kissing you with a hunger that stole the air from your lungs. Her fingers slipped beneath the lace, finding you already soaking wet, and a groan of satisfaction rumbled in her throat.
You moaned into her mouth as her fingers found a rhythm inside your walls, slow and deliberate, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The way she touched you, with such confidence, such control, made your head spin. There was no room for defiance now, no room for anything but the fire she stoked with every movement.
“Look at you,” she purred, pulling back just enough to watch your flushed expression, your eyes half-lidded with desire. “So desperate, so needy… I could ruin you right here, couldn’t I?” You tried to reply but your words are incoherent as they are replaced with your whines and whimpers
Her words sent a jolt of arousal through you, your body responding with a shudder as her fingers slid deeper, curling just right, hitting that perfect spot that had you arching into her touch. You tried to bite back a moan, but it came out anyway, soft, high-pitched, and broken, a sound that only seemed to encourage her.
“That’s it,” Rio coaxed, her voice a dark melody in your ear. “Let go, sweet girl. Let me hear you.”
The pleasure built rapidly, an intense wave that threatened to consume you. Your hands found their way to her shoulders, clutching at her for support, as she drove you closer and closer to the edge. Her movements were relentless, a perfect mix of pressure and speed that left you helplessly writhing in her grip.
“Say it,” she demanded, her breath hot against your ear. “Tell me who’s in control.”
“You are,” you gasped, the words slipping out before you could stop them, your voice breaking as the pleasure became too much to bear.
A triumphant smirk tugged at her lips, and with one final, perfectly timed thrust of her fingers inside your cunt, she sent you tumbling over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking in her arms as she held you up, her fingers never stopping their torturous rhythm until you were completely undone.
As you came down from your high, your body still trembling, Rio pressed a soft, almost tender kiss to your temple. “That’s my good girl,” she whispered, her tone softer now, though still laced with that dark edge of dominance. “I told you I’d tame you.”
You were too breathless to respond, your mind still reeling from the intensity of what had just happened. But as Rio pulled you into her arms, holding you close, you couldn’t deny it—something had shifted between you. You weren’t just a brat to be tamed; you were hers now, in a way that left you feeling both vulnerable and strangely exhilarated.
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let me know what your thoughts are, request box is open my loves<3
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silverb0wties · 3 days ago
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Lemonade - Part 5
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leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader
Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?
Chapter Summary: the aftermath of your concussion
Warnings: pregnancy, self-harm, disordered eating, bullying
a/n: sorry if this chapter is a little bit dark in parts. if you're still reading the series, thanks so much for sticking with me. I appreciate it more than you know.
|| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 ||
PART 5
You woke up on a plastic bed in a room that smelled like the awful cream your Mummy would rub on her legs after Netball, surrounded by a million different kinds and colours of sellotape.
You could hear voices, and you looked over to the corner of the room to find your Aunty Leah consoling your Aunty Lessi as she cried.  She looked distraught, her eyes red and puffy with tears.
“I should have known it would overwhelm her.  I was just so excited to share this with her…”
“Babe, she’s going to be okay.  We’re still learning all this, yeah?”
“But we’re meant to protect her, and… and I- I…” Aunty Lessi choked on her words before Aunty Leah cut her off.
“And I should have had a tighter grip on her when I saw she was panicking.  Like I said, we’re both still learning how to do this.  The medics said she’s got a bit of a concussion, but she’ll be alright.  We know how concussions work, so we’ve just got to keep our eyes on her and make sure she gets lots and lots of rest.”
There was a quiet knock at the door, before an important looking lady with a clipboard came in.
“Less, sorry but we need to know if you’re going to play the second half or not?” she asked.
As your Aunties turned toward the door, they realised that you were awake.
“Oh Bunny, sweetie, you’re awake.  How are you feeling?” your Aunty Lessi rushed over to you, her hands coming down to gently cradle the sides of your head.
You looked up at her a bit stunned, rather confused about why you were where you were and why everyone seemed so upset.
“Does your head hurt?  Do you feel sick or dizzy at all?” she asked, her hand softly brushing through your hair.
You tried to think about if you felt sick or dizzy, but all you could really feel was a powerful throbbing rattling through your head.  You also felt really, really tired.  But you had just woken up, so that could perhaps explain that.  You don’t remember going to sleep though, which was starting to concern you.
“I feel okay,” you replied, trying to brush away your Aunty’s concern.
“Alessia, sorry, we need t-” the lady at the door began to ask again.
“I won’t be playing, sorry.  My family is more important right now,” Aunty Lessi told her.
“Less, you should go play.  I’ll stay with Bunny and make sure she’s-”
Your Aunty Lessi whipped around to face Aunty Leah. “No, Leah.  I’m not leaving her.  She’s hurt.   We’ll get a car to take us back to the training centre so we can go home early,” she insisted firmly.
Aunty Leah replied with a sad smile and a nod.  “I’ll go get our stuff packed up then, yeah?”
“I’m okay Aunty Lessi, you should play!” you tried to insist.
“No Bunny, there would be no point in me playing anyways.  I would be so distracted out there and worrying about you I would probably kick the ball into the wrong goal by mistake.”
By the time you finally got back home that night, your head was still pounding and you were struggling to stay awake.  You were trying your hardest to be big and brave and pretend like you were okay, but as soon as you stepped into bath, your whole façade fell apart.  As the warm water lapped at your tense muscles, which you now realised you’d been clenching in an effort to distract from the pain in your head, your resolve melted and you began to weep.
You brought your knees up to your chest and dropped your head forward, your hands entwining at the back of your head as your little body shook with each sob.  The tears and jagged breaths only intensified the pain in your head though, which in turn caused more tears and jagged breaths.  You tried your hardest to stay as quiet as possible, but you were aware that your cries were becoming increasingly vocal.
There was soon a soft knock at the door, followed by your Aunty Lessi’s voice.  Whilst making sure you still got clean and dressed, your Aunties had always tried to give you your privacy while bathing and dressing, which you appreciated.  They were your Aunties, but it still felt weird being undressed around people who weren’t your parents.
“Bunny?  Are you okay?” she called through the closed door.
“It hurts” you cried in response.
“What hurts honey?”
“Everything.  My head hurts most.”
“How about we give you some medicine to make it hurt less, yeah?”
“Okay.”
“And then we can get you to bed, and you can try and get some rest, alright?”
“Okay.”
There was a short pause.  You’d assumed your Aunty had gone away to get the medicine, but then you heard her voice again.
“Bun, you don’t always have to try and be big and brave y’know?  If you’re hurting, you can tell us.  Always.  I promise you won’t be in trouble or we won’t make fun of you or anything.  We just want you to feel okay.”
“Okay.”
You didn’t fully believe her.  You wanted to, but a part of you still believed that there was only so much love and affection to go around and you needed to space that out at least until Lemonade arrived.  You didn’t want to use it all up on this incident.
So you tried your hardest to push the pain down and away as you quickly washed yourself.  You managed to get yourself up and out of the bath and wrapped in a towel before there was a knock at the door again.
“You can come in,” you mumbled, making sure the towel was secured tightly under your arms.
Your Aunty Lessi entered with a little cup filled with pink medicine and a cup of water.  She kneeled down to your height as she offered it to you.
“Now it says strawberry flavoured on the bottle, so hopefully it won’t taste too bad.”
You gingerly took the cup and gulped the medicine down, wincing at the distinctly fake strawberry taste.  You quickly grabbed the cup of water from your Aunty’s other hand and skulled that down to wash away the lingering flavour.
“Good job, Bun.  Now let’s get you into your PJ’s and into bed, yeah?”
By the time you were under the covers, arms tightly wrapped around your beloved Arthur, the pain in your head had dulled to only a mild ache.
“Goodnight sweet girl” your Aunty Lessi whispered, kissing the top of your head.
“Night Aunty Lessi” you mumbled back.
It was the first time you slept through the night without waking up to a nightmare since the fire.
--
You woke up to the smell of Aunty Lessi’s lasagne wafting through the house.  However, as you opened your eyes and came to your senses, you immediately panicked. 
You were not in your own bed. 
You were in your Aunties bed.
You had no idea how you’d come to be in their bed.  The last thing you remembered you were lying on the floor in the loungeroom studying one of the books the Arsenal girls had given you about football.  You were trying to understand where all the different positions were on the pitch and what responsibilities each position had.  You had been figuring out the difference between a centre-back and a full-back when you had… fallen asleep.
Bad. Bad. Bad.
Whilst it had been a few days now since your accident and you’d had a couple of days off school and your head no longer hurt, you were still feeling extra extra tired from your concussion.  You’d spent most of that day at school trying to hide your yawns from your teacher and classmates.  When you’d been given some free time after finishing one of your activities ahead of the rest of the class, the same group of students that always seemed to catch you at your weakest had caught you dozing off in the corner of the room where you’d been reading.  They’d tied your shoelaces together and were starting to draw on your arm when you woke up.  You hadn’t realised they’d also put rolled up pieces of paper in your hair braid until your Aunty Leah pointed them out when she picked you up.
You’d tried to brush it off and said it was just a game all the kids were playing with each other, but the concerned frown your Aunty gave you implied she didn’t quite believe your lie.
“You know you can tell us if there’s anything going wrong at school, yeah?  If anyone’s picking on you or calling you names or anything?”
You just nodded.  There was no way you would ever tell your Aunties what was really happening at school.  You would just deal with it like a big girl.  Push through.  Be brave.  They had bigger things to worry about than some kids putting paper in your hair and saying mean things.  Your Aunty Leah was growing a human AND mending her busted knee for heaven’s sake!  You could deal with some silly paper in your hair.
When you’d got back to the house, you went straight to your room to undo your braid and pluck all the little pieces of paper from your hair.  You’d counted them (23 in total) before scrunching them up and throwing them in the little wastepaper basket beside your desk. 
As the paper hit the basket, a tiny ball of raging heat began bubbling in your chest.  You didn’t know what to do with it or how to describe it, but it made you want to stomp your feet and hit a wall and scratch at your skin.  You’d never been the best at describing emotions, but you were pretty certain this wasn’t sadness.  Perhaps, this was anger? Frustration? Disappointment? 
The tiny ball continued to bubble and grow as you lunged for your bed where Arthur lay.  You attempted desperately to use your tried and tested method of rubbing his ear against your cheek to calm the feeling, and whilst it felt nice, it did nothing to soothe your need to stomp or hit or scratch.
You searched your room urgently for something else to ease the searing heat in your chest, even gulping down the remnants of a cup of water on your bedside table.  But nothing worked.  You needed to stomp or hit or scratch.  You knew couldn’t stomp your feet or hit a wall, because that would be loud, and your Aunty would hear and come ask what was wrong.  So, you decided to scratch. 
You had to pick somewhere not too visible so that if you left a mark, nobody would see and ask what happened.  So, you tugged up the hem of your school dress and pushed down your tights and began scratching at the skin at the top of your right thigh.
The relief was instant. 
The second your nails dug into your flesh, the little ball of heat in your chest began to cool.  You scratched and scratched, and scratched some more until it finally, finally disappeared.  By the time you eventually stopped, your skin was stinging, and your fingers were cramping.  But the little ball of heat was gone, and that was all that mattered.
There was a gentle knock on the door as you speedily pulled your tights back up, wincing as they brushed against your newly tender skin.
Your Aunty Leah popped her head in through the door, “Bun, do you want a snack? I got some blueberry muffins from the bakery…”
“Oh… um, yeah, I’ll be right down, just getting that paper out of my hair,” you mumbled, quickly running your fingers through the ends of your messy blonde mane.
“Alright, I’ll pop them in the microwave to warm them up,” she replied before heading back downstairs to do so.
As you heard her footsteps fade away, you turned around and pulled your tights down again, trying with all your might not to release a pained noise as the fabric ripped away from your newly raw skin.  The area you’d scratched was an angry red colour and the skin seemed wet, but there was no blood, which whilst a relief, made no sense to you.
Not wanting to keep your Aunty waiting, you hastily pulled your tights the rest of the way off and threw them in your laundry hamper.  The house was warm enough, but you decided to grab your soft little blanket that had purple and grey clouds, as well as the book on football you had been reading and the little notebook you’d been making notes in (and Arthur of course), and head downstairs.
“Perfect timing Bun, just took them out of the microwave.  Do you want a drink?”
“I’m okay.  Thank you, Aunty Leah, this looks lovely” you replied, climbing up onto a stool in front of the kitchen bench where a little plate with a yummy looking blueberry muffin sat.
“Well, we all know the kitchen is Aunty Lessi’s domain.  That woman can cook like a dream!  But I’m not too shabby at picking out a good pastry.  I guess you could say bread and bread-adjacent foods are my domain,” she teased.
You giggled as you tucked into your muffin, appreciating your Aunty Leah’s silly jokes about how bad at cooking she was and how limited the range of foods she ate was.  Your extended family often seemed to tease her a bit about being a picky eater and she would usually laugh it off or join in on the joke.  But you knew it was something she was actually a bit self-conscious about. 
A few days into your stay here you’d gone to the fridge to grab some milk for your cereal and had accidentally knocked a container off a shelf.  As you bent down to pick it up, you noticed a little letter stuck to the lid that read “Leah, my love, it’s okay if you can’t eat this.  I know you tried and I’m proud of you.  Please just make sure you eat something or at least have a protein smoothie.  For you and for ‘L’.  Love you – xx Less.”  You’d immediately felt guilty for reading it as you rushed to put it back on the shelf, knowing you’d intruded on a bit of your Auntie’s privacy.  You’d seen a few similar little notes stuck to containers since then.  At the time you’d been very confused about what “for you and for ‘L’” meant, but you had since figured out it meant ‘for you and for Lemonade’. 
When you finished your muffin, you wriggled off the stool and headed over to place your plate in the dishwasher.
“Are you done with your plate too, Aunty Leah?” you offered.
“Oh, thanks sweetie, you didn’t have to do that,” she replied as she passed you her plate with a smile.  “Feel free to watch something on the telly if you want.  I’ve got a bit of boring adult housework stuff to catch up on before Aunty Lessi gets home.”
“Is there anything you need help with?” you asked.
“No, no.  I’ve just got to do a couple of loads of laundry and there’s no way I would make you deal with Aunty Lessi’s gross smelly training socks!  It’s bad enough poor little Lemonade is stuck with me and can’t escape from it,” she laughed, jokingly shielding her belly from the smell.
“Is it okay if I just read in the loungeroom?” you asked.
“Of course it is!  Just remember if your head starts to hurt or you’re feeling too tired or anything, to have a rest, yeah?” she smiled at you, stroking her fingers affectionately through your hair.
“I will, thank you.”
So, you made yourself comfortable in a little spot on the loungeroom floor, surrounded by a couple of cushions, the blanket you’d brought down from your room and, of course, Arthur.  Soon you were laying on your belly, nose deep in the book and jotting down notes in your notebook all about what a penalty shootout was and what circumstances led to one.  You drew a little picture of the goal and the line markings and where the goalie had to stand and where the other players had to stand, before turning back to the book to read about in-game penalties when slowly but suddenly you… were… asleep.
The next thing you knew you were waking up in your Auntie’s bed to the smell of your Aunty Lessi’s lasagna.
The realisation hit you like a hundred bolts of lightning.
You’d slept in someone else bed.
Bad. Bad. Bad.
Bad things happen when you sleep in someone else’s bed.
The last time you’d slept in someone else’s bed, your house burned down, and your Mummy and Daddy had died.
You jumped out of the bed as though it was burning you, panic rattling all through your little body.
“Bad. Bad. Bad.”
Your right hand began hitting at the side of your head before you even knew it was happening.
“Bad. Bad. Bad.”
Your other hand clawed at the skin of your neck, scratching determinedly at the tender skin there.
“Bad! Bad! Bad!”
You tried so hard to stop them, but your feet began to stomp loudly, your whole body seemingly moving with a mind of its own.  Everything around you seemed like it was spinning.  You thought you could smell smoke and when your eyes began to water you weren’t sure if it was because you were crying or if it was because there was actually smoke. 
You vaguely heard a commotion and saw the door swing open, but everything around you continued to spin making you feel like throwing up.  You couldn’t throw up in your Auntie’s bedroom!
“Bad! Bad! Bad!”
“Bunny?  Sweetie, what’s going on?”
You could hear your Aunty Lessi’s voice and feel her presence, but the only word you could think was ‘BAD’.
“Bad! Bad! Bad!”
The word kept falling from your lips and you continued to stomp and hit and scratch.
“Okay, Bun.  I’m going pick you up so you stop hurting yourself sweetie.  I need to make you nice and safe, alright?”
Again, you heard your Aunty but all you could think was ‘BAD’.
“Bad! Bad! Bad!”
Carefully you felt your Aunty wrap her arms around you, trapping your arms and lifting you off the ground.  You struggled as your body fought to keep hitting and scratching and stomping, but she gently tugged your hands away from your neck and head, tucking them tightly against her chest.
“You’re okay, lovely.  You’re safe, I promise.  It’s just you, me and Aunty Leah here okay.  Nothing bad is going to happen alright?  We’re safe.  You’re safe.  Everything’s okay…”
“Bad. Bad. Bad.”
“What do you mean by bad, Bun?” Aunty Lessi asked.
You shook your head, unable to explain yourself.  All you could say was “bad.”
“Oh sweetie, you haven’t done anything bad.  You’re not in any kind of trouble.  I promise.  And nothing bad is going to happen either, okay?” she whispered.
You began to slowly unclench in her arms, comforted by the soothing way she was swaying gently.  Eventually you opened your eyes to see your Aunty Leah standing in the doorway watching on, her face red and blotchy as though she’d been crying.
You immediately came back into your body, realising whatever you’d just done had upset your Aunty Leah.  You tried to wriggle slightly to free yourself from your Aunty Lessi’s grip, but she tightened her hold.
“Not yet sweetie.  I need to what’s going on?  What happened?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you in her lap.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.  I didn’t mean to be bad and upset Aunty Leah.  I’m so sorry.  I promise I’ll be good.  I promise.”
“Darling, you didn’t upset me” your Aunty Leah assured you as she came over to sit next to Aunty Lessi on the bed.
“But your face is blotchy like you’ve been crying” you replied, your Aunty Lessi finally loosening her grip on her as your reached toward Aunty Leah.
“Well, it’s because I have been, but it’s not because you upset me.  I’m just worried about you is all.  Why were you hurting yourself?” she asked, taking your hand in hers.
“I just had to.  I don’t know.  I just did.  I was bad.”  You jumped off Aunty Lessi’s lap and started pacing on the floor in front of her and Aunty Leah.   “I woke up in this bed and I had no idea why I was in your bed and all I could think was ‘bad’ and I just did it without realising.”
“I washed your sheets and they’re in the dryer.  So, when you fell asleep on the loungeroom floor, I just put you in here for your nap.  I didn’t mean for it to upset you so much, sweetie,” Aunty Leah explained, tears still rolling down her cheeks.
“You didn’t upset me, I just I don’t want you and Aunty Lessi and Lemonade to die too!”
You heard your Aunties gasp at your explanation, but you just kept pacing, trying to figure out a way to stop the inevitable from happening.
“Bunny, oh my goodness, why would Aunty Leah and Lemonade and I die because you had a nap in our bed?”
“Because that’s what happened when I slept in Mummy and Daddy’s bed!”
You watched as your Aunties exchanged a series of looks.  The seemed confused and shocked, which was confusing and shocking to you, because it all seemed so obvious.
“Darling, your Mummy and Daddy didn’t die because you slept in their bed,” Aunty Leah tried to tell you.
“Yes, they did!  They did.  They DID!  I know they did!  It’s the only thing different I did that night from all the other nights.  I had done so so good all summer getting into my big girl routine and kept it up really well for the first couple of weeks of school.  But then… then I slipped up, and I was bad and I asked to sleep in bed with Mummy and Daddy that night.  And and th- the fire happened.  And if I had of been in my own room, I could have got myself out.  Because we’d practiced.  Daddy made sure we practiced.  And and and then… then Da-Daddy wouldn’t have needed to get me out and he could have helped Mummy because of her leg.  And they could have got out too.  But I was bad.  I slept in a bed that wasn’t mine.  When I should have just slept in my own bed, like a good girl.  Like a big girl.  And now they’re dead.  They’re both dead.  And it’s my fault.  And now what if you die too!?”
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beardedjoel · 8 hours ago
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indebted
dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.
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summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.
warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.
a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!
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I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.
It’s utterly and completely my fault.
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Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.
It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA. 
He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed. 
I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.
However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.
I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.
I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?
“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.
“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks. 
A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice. 
My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.
“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.
“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.
He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.” 
I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him. 
Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.
“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.
“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”
“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.
My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”
My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.
“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room. 
“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.
“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.
“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.
I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”
Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”
I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”
My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind. 
“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”
“A safehouse?”
“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.
“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.
He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for. 
I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.
“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”
Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.
His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own. 
The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.
“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs. 
My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.
“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.
“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.
He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.
“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.
Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”
I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.
I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer. 
“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?
His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”
I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.
Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”
“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”
“I don’t have -”
“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience. 
“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.” 
Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”
“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.
“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”
“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”
I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.
“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it. 
“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”
My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse? 
“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.
“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.
He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand. 
The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.
The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down. 
“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it. 
He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth. 
The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth. 
“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power. 
“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so. 
Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure. 
“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.
Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock. 
My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick? 
“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in. 
He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest. 
As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.
“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.
“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”
I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”
Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”
I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.
“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”
I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them. 
Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.
“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”
Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.
He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.
“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.
Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.” 
I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.
“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it. 
“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.
I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.
He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.
“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.
“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything. 
I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.
“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close.  His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.” 
I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.
With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before. 
I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body. 
“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”
I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”
The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.
“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something. 
“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.
I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides. 
“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.
“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,”  he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.
“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.
He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.
I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.
I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.
“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”
I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth. 
I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.
Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?  
It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.
“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not. 
“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure. 
“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me. 
It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.
Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.
When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me. 
I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul. 
He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”
I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.
“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.
“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”
I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper. 
Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified. 
Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.
“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”
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dividers by @/saradika-graphics!
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minimomoe · 1 day ago
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The Little Things
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AN: I was listening to Sexy to Someone by Clairo and thought of Nanami. short, fluffy drabble
You stood in front of the elevator and waited for the metal box to ascend to your floor. It was 8pm, well past office hours, but time waits for no man and you had work to finish. All that mattered now is that you were done. You could slip out of your drab work clothing and crawl into bed as soon as you got home.
You had hoped that you could ride down alone, but you found yourself holding the door open for Kento Nanami, your unrequited work crush. He swept in, his cologne filling up the air and you didn't find it nauseating in the slightest. It was clean, green, and oh so sexy.
"Thank you for waiting for me. Most people would let it close in my face."
"You're too not bad of company," you teased.
He smiled back down at you and you felt heat rush up to your face. It wasn't fair at all. He couldn't be this gorgeous with pretty brown eyes and be one of the nicest people you have ever met. You might not even make it down the elevator with how fast your heart thumped in your chest.
"So why did--"
"You look--"
You had both started talking at the same time. He laughed, apologized, and asked for you to go first.
"I was just gonna ask why are you staying so late?"
"They're pulling a lot of people from my department. Someone had to pick up the slack," he sighed. He ran his hands through his hair and it fell over in perfect tresses. How annoying. How gorgeous.
"Tell me about it. They're doing the same to us in the marketing department. The quarter's almost over so hopefully the workload will lessen."
You could do this with him. Small talk. Safe talk. There was nothing that could go wrong here. Nanami couldn't hear your heart racing in your chest. You just had to keep your cool.
"What were you going to say?" You remembered.
"Oh-- it... I don't think it matters anymore."
The handsome, suave Nanami was stuttering. You had the man stuttering. You snapped your head forward as if you were afraid you messed with the balance of the universe. He cleared his throat and looked at you once again.
"I hope that this doesn't come off... inappropriate. I think that blue looks wonderful with your complexion. And you got new glasses last week. I never got to compliment them."
Your ears were ringing. Did you hear him correctly? Nanami watched you, has kept you in his sights to know that your glasses have changed and complimented your favorite work dress. You peered up at him and his ears were flaming red. Your unrequited work crush could possibly be requited after all.
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami," you said softly with a shy smile. "It almost looks like were matching, right?"
He looked down at his own blue suit and chuckled. "It does, doesn't it."
The elevator dinged and the doors slowly slid opened. Nanami held his hand out for you to leave first and followed behind. You were keenly aware of how close he was to your body as you both said goodnight to the security guard on your way out of the building.
"Well... Good night to you too, Nanami. Try not to work yourself too hard this weekend," you waved. You started on the opposite direction before he called out your name.
"Would you... like to have a meal with me? I know a place," he asked.
You bit back a smile. Never would you have imagined that Kento of all people could get so shy. He patiently awaited your answer but you noticed his jaw tightening.
"I don't know. It's getting pretty late," you teased.
"This place is only open from 8pm to 12am. And a meal is always better with someone to eat with."
He was practically begging you to come with. You gingerly took your step towards him and his smile widened.
"I can take your bag," he offered. He slipped it off your shoulder and you softly hissed at his fingers grazing your shoulder. His eyes darkened at the sound but kept on strutting down the street. Once again, his ears were blushing and you internally squealed. To think that you were rushing to go home only to end up on a date with Nanami. Was this a date?
Only your brain to mouth filter was broken, and you actually asked the question out loud. He gave you a fond look. "I would like for it to be."
You hooked your hand around his raised arm. All this time you thought that your feelings would never be reciprocated, but it looks like you were sexy to someone after all.
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sturnioloszn · 3 days ago
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ICE BOUND (3) - M.S
summary; while sneaking around with the team captain, you both lose track of time and get caught in the very act you tried so hard to keep a secret.
warnings; smut, unprotected sex (pls wrap the willy), semi-blowjob?, dirty talk, praising, arguing, getting caught.
a/n; this is gonna be kinda long, but it is the last part of this "mini series", idek if this counts as a series lmfao, it's just multiple oneshots from the same storyline? idk, either way; i hope you enjoy it. 💙
P1, P2
★ ° . *  ° . °☆  . * ● ¸.    ★  ° :. ★  * •
Matt and I have been together for just over 4 months, and it's been everything and more. He's insanely thoughtful and caring, which is hard to believe considering the reputation hockey guys get.
Apart from the fact that Matt literally worships the ground I step on, he always makes sure I feel loved in ALL departments. If I was sad, dick. If I was angry, dick. If I was horny, dick. And I have to admit, he must be magic because it works every. single. time.
A notification pings on my phone, snapping me out of my daydreams; I know exactly who the text is from. I quickly unlocked my phone to reply to Matt's message.
He was driving over to my house right now even though he had practice. He made up some shitty excuse to my dad about how he "caught a cold" and therefore couldn't make it, but it was all a lie just to see me. It was sweet that he'd skip practice to be with me, but I wish he still went, I know how much hockey means to him.
A few moments later, I heard a knock at my front door, I catapulted myself down the stairs to go open it. I'm met with Matt's sweet smile, and it leaves me in awe. I throw myself into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, and he pulls me into him tighter.
He rests his chin on top of my head, sinking into the hug. He was wearing a black, 'ransom' hoodie and sweats, which contrasted with his pale skin and eyes.
I'm sure he wasn't impressed with my outift, I was in one of his hoodies and plaid pyjama pants; but I wouldn't be wearing anything in a few minutes, so it didn't really matter.
He breaks away from the hug, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. "How's my pretty girl?" He asks, letting the nickname he made for me roll off his tongue.
"Good, missed you, though," I reply, letting him into the house and shutting the door behind us. We move up to my bedroom, and we both pretend like we don't know what's about to happen.
"So what'd 'coach' say about you missing practice," I ask, falling back onto my bed and pulling him on with me; he climbs between my legs so that we are face to face.
"He told me to get better soon, said he couldn't practice without his 'star player'," he smirks, leaning down to invite me into a warm kiss. His lips moving against mine is the personification of heaven, and it makes my heart flutter each time they touch.
He continues to softly abuse my lips, licking and biting at them while soft whimpers involuntarily escape my lips. He then moves away from my lips and dips his head down to the crook of my neck, where he continues his work.
I tilt my head backwards into the mattress to grant him more access as I reach down between our bodies and gently grab hold of his bulge, which has formed in his sweats. A low groan flees his lips when I start palming him softly through the material.
"You feel that, baby? It's all yours," He breathes out, struggling to continue the work on my neck. I smile and bring him back to my lips so that I can keep feeling him, but it's not long before he breaks our contact again to speak, "I need your lips wrapped around me so bad,"
"Yeah?" I taunt, sitting up, causing him to also sit up. I slide off the bed and land on my knees in front of him while he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. I look up at him through my lashes as I grab hold of the waistband of his sweats.
He places his hands over mine and helps push them down to his mid-thigh. I examine the view in front of me, his large cock straining against his boxers, so much that there's a little wet patch on his boxers.
"Do I make you wet, baby?" I tease, grabbing hold of his cock still in his underwear. He leans his head back, giving me a view of his adam apple as he thickly swallows.
"You make me so wet," he agrees, his voice so low that by breathing too hard, you'd miss it. I finally pull his boxers down to where his sweats are and his cock springs free.
I spit into my hand before wrapping it around his base and slowly pumping it a few times until beads of pre-cum form at his tip. I lean down and lick him clean before bringing his tip into my mouth completely. I suck on his swollen head, releasing it only to swirl my tongue around it.
"Fuck- just like that," he mutters, tangling one of his calloused hands into my hair. Just as I'm about to place his dick back into my mouth, my bedroom door flings open.
"DAD?!" I shriek, quickly pulling away from Matt, jumping to my feet. Matt hurriedly pulls his boxers and sweats up, also jumping to his feet.
The door semi-closes after he realises what is going on, but he still stands behind it. "WHAT THE FUCK!" He yells. He's obviously livid. At this point, my face is painted red, and Matt also has blush covering his cheeks and nose.
"ARE YOU DECENT?!" He continues to yell. Oh God. How did I not even hear the front door open? And why is he back already? Did practice already finish?
"Yes," we both mutter in unison, lowering our gaze as he walks back in. I fiddle with a loose thread on my hoodie, trying to ignore the glares being thrown at us.
"Does anyone care to explain what is going on?" He asks more calmly but still very furious. I don't bother looking up, indicating Matt to speak.
"I'm sorry, coach," Matt apologises, his eyes glued to the ground. You could almost hear Matt's heart beating out from his chest, except that mine was much louder.
"I'm sorry? That's all you have to say to say after lying to me so that you could skip practice and sneak around with my daughter?!" He says, becoming more angry again, his voice bouncing off the walls.
We stood there in silence as my father's gaze tore us apart. I've never felt so humiliated in my entire life.
"Matthew, get out of my house, and you are never to see each other again, understood?" He speaks firmly.
"Dad, that's not fair!" I argue back, finally meeting his gaze. He couldn't decide who I could and couldn't see.
"I'm not arguing with you. He is leaving immediately and not coming back. He should count himself lucky he isn't already kicked from the team," He says, looking over at Matt.
Matt swallows, "I'm sorry, coach, bye y/n," he says, walking out of my room. Now that he is gone, the air is much denser, and the silence grew louder. My dad stood in front of me, not uttering a sound because the look on his face was speaking a million words.
"I'm so disappointed in you. You're going to stay in your room and think about your actions," he says, moving to also leave my room. As he grabs the door handle to close it, he mutters, "and you are to stay away from him," before closing the door shut.
The second the door closes, I hunt for my phone to shoot Matt a text. I tell him not to worry and that I'll try to explain the situation later, but he says that it won't change anything.
I feel horrible for dragging him into this mess. I single-handedly ruined hockey for him now, or at least hockey with my father.
A few hours have passed now, and my phone receives a notification. I open it to see a message from Matt. I don't have time to even read what it says before I hear a knock at my window.
I jump from the unexpected noise, and I look to see Matt crouched outside my window. I quickly go open the window to let him in.
"What are you doing here?!" I shout whispered at him, not wanting my father downstairs to hear me speaking to someone.
"Did y'really think I was gonna stay away from my pretty girl? Especially with blue balls," he laughs, bringing me into a quick kiss. I smile into the kiss, finding this all too amusing. Our kiss very quickly becomes deeper and more passionate with his hands raking up and down my body.
"Do you want to?" He asks, clearly referring to sex. I nod at his question, and he walks me backwards into my bed, making me fall onto it. While moving his lips deliberately against mine, he slips both of us out of our clothes until we're left in just our underwear.
He places gentle kisses all over my body, his hands gripping my hips, keeping me firmly in place as I squirm.
"Is the door locked this time?" He asks, looking up towards my bedroom door, I shake my head.
"Go close it, sweetheart," he encourages, pulling away from me. I stand up and go lock my bedroom door, trying to be gentle so that my father doesn't hear a thing. As I spin back around, I see Matt leaning against the headboard with his boxers pulled down and his hands firmly stroking his cock.
I timidly walk back to him and stand at his side, "c'mere, baby," he hushes, patting his thighs. I pull my shorts and soaked panties down at the same time before climbing over him to place my legs on either side of him. He rests both of his hands on my hips as I now comfortably straddle him.
He moves his middle finger to play with my folds, "shit, you're so wet. Is this all for me, hm?" he asks, slowly collecting the wetness that had formed. I nod my head and rut my hips on his hand, seeking even more treasure. "You're so impatient," he chuckles before removing his hand and bringing his finger to my lips so that I could suck it clean.
He then roughly grabs hold of me with one hand and uses the other to line his cock up with my entrance. He gives me a small tap to indicate that he's ready when I am, and I slowly sink down into his cock.
"Fuck, Matt," I moan, taking him fully, and he's already so deep. His head is slung backwards, resting against the headboard as I begin to rock my hips; I grab onto his shoulders for the minimal support they offer.
My movements become rougher and more ragged, causing the bed to creak slightly under our movements. He grabs onto my hips tighter, forcing me to move slower even though I wanted the opposite.
"Shhh, we have to be quiet, baby. Can't let your dad hear you riding me so good," he groans, his eyebrows furrowing but nevertheless fighting to keep eye contact with me.
I moan as a response and start bouncing on him instead. He notices my tits bouncing up and down in my top and lifts it up to get a better look. He brings both hands up to squeeze and play with them as I keep moving up and down but this only brings me closer to the edge.
"Matt...I'm gonna...come," I say, my movements becoming much more unsteady. My legs are becoming weaker, and I'm unable to keep up the pace. I then feel him move his hands back to my hips.
"Let me finish the job, pretty girl, you've done so good," he praises, gripping my hips intensely, forcing me to still but instantly replacing my movement by thrusting his hips up. He continuously rams into me, abusing my g-spot. I feel the heat in my lower stomach become unbearable, and I can't control it anymore.
"Fuck-I'm coming...fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant throwing my head back and grinding my hips to fuck him back. I feel his cock twitch, indicating that he's also close. I clench my pussy around him, encouraging him to shoot his cum deep into me.
"OH FUCK- baby, yes, just like that, you feel so good," he babbles, slowing his thrusts, fucking his cum into me. I collapse onto his chest, moulding our sweaty bodies into one. I'm panting heavily, trying to slow my breathing, and I feel Matt's heart beating roughly against my skin.
I finally have the strength to disconnect our bodies and look at him, "thank you, that was amazing," I smile.
"Thank YOU, you have no idea how much pain I was in," he smiles back. I give him a small peck on his lips before sliding off from him and onto my mattress. "Let me clean you up, pretty girl," he says, walking to get some tissue to clean his cum that is dripping out of my pussy and the remains of it from his dick.
He then laid back in bed with me but told me he had to leave soon because he didn't want to risk being caught by my dad again. I understood and didn't blame him; it was incredibly embarrassing the first time. We did not need a repeat.
Before I knew it, Matt was climbing back out of my window to leave. It made me sad that he couldn't stay longer, but I knew it was for the better right now.
As the night went on, I became more infuriated with the fact that my dad thinks he can control who I can see, well he can't. I finally reached breaking point, and I stormed downstairs to give him a piece of my mind.
"Why did you kick Matt out before?" I ask, trying to keep my cool. I stare at my dad, whose eyesight doesn't even wander from the hockey match playing on the tv in front of him.
"Because," he answered shortly. What kind of answer was that?? He can't just say 'because', who does he think he is?
"Because what?" I push further.
"Because he's on my hockey team, and I don't even know why you have boys in your room anyway. You're not allowed," he says, his eyes never leaving the tv.
"I'm nineteen, I'm not a little girl anymore," I say, already becoming upset with his answer. He can't treat me like a baby forever.
"You are a little girl. You don't understand boys and what they really want," he says, keeping his eyes firm on the tv. I can't believe this right now. How gullible and stupid does he think I am? I feel myself becoming more worked up over this than I probably should.
"I do understand because I'm not stupid, and I'm old enough to make my own decisions," I speak, becoming louder.
"No, you don't. Boys only want one thing, and that's to get in your pants," he says, his eyes finally meeting mine.
"Not Matt, he doesn't care about that. He cares about me," I say, swallowing harshly.
"Is that really what you think? God, you have a lot to learn," he scoffs.
"Yes, I do think that because Matt and I have been dating for over 4 months, and he's shown nothing but love for me. I'm sorry you and mom didn't work out, but that's not my fault. I'm gonna build my own relationships, and you can't do anything about it because they aren't your decisions to make. And if it bothers you that much, I'll move out!" I yell without thinking.
My mini rant made him fall silent, with nothing left to say he's just staring at me. Regret starts to seep into my thoughts. I shouldn't have brought up mom or threatened to move out.
"We'll talk about this tomorrow," he says calmly, getting up from the couch and turning the tv off. I'm left frozen in place as I watch him walk to his room. I messed up.
I eventually find the willpower to walk back up to my room, and I can't help but let tears fall. I was curled up on my bed, thinking about everything. I wondered how my relationship with Matt was going to change and how Matt's relationship with his coach was going to change, and for some reason I even thought of mom, even though I hadn't seen her in years.
I let these thoughts infiltrate my mind until I feel my puffy eyelids become heavy. I wipe the remaining tears from my cheeks and pull the blanket closer. I fell asleep to the thought of Matt holding me closer, comforting me.
-
I'm woken by the sun beating down on my face through my gap in my curtains. I slowly sit up, rubbing my eyes so that they can adjust to the sunlight in the room.
As I walk downstairs, I see someone sitting at the kitchen table. Walking closer, I see that it's...Matt?
Before I have the chance to question him, my dad walks over. All three of us now in the kitchen.
"Y/n sit down," my dad says, reading my very confused expression. I pull out the chair next to Matt, giving him a small smile, which he reciprocates.
"I've been thinking, and you're right. You are old enough to make your own decisions, and I'm sorry for the way I reacted," he speaks, his voice laced with sincerity. "But you'll always be my little girl," he adds, his eyes watering slightly.
By now, my own tears are falling. "I'm sorry too," I sob, standing from my seat and going to hug him; he embraces me warmly.
As we break away from the hug, we turn to look at Matt, who is still sitting down, now smiling.
"I can't stop you guys from being together, but I'm not ready for grandkids yet, so please just-" he pleads, being cut off by Matt.
"Neither are we, sir, don't worry," Matt chuckles. My dad gives him a nod, walking out of the room; I walk over to Matt, wrapping my arms around him.
He tries to bring my lips to his, but I quickly pull away, "nope, I still have morning breath," I laugh.
He shakes his head and roughly pulls me to him, connecting our lips. I give him a quick kiss before pulling away again.
"I love you," I whisper, looking into his eyes, scared that I'd drown in them and never be found again.
"I love you more," he says, matching my tone.
We stood there for what felt like an eternity, being lost in each other's eyes. And I pondered on the thought 'what would have happened if I never accompanied my dad to that practice session?'
★ ° . *  ° . °☆  . * ● ¸.    ★  ° :. ★  * •
a/n; that's a wrappp. i hope you guys enjoyed this, and thank you so much for all the support on my posts. 1.2k notes on JEALOUS and 300 followers??? that's insane, but I'm so so thankful for all everything. i love you all <33.
Taglist; @idrk2292 @aalixsturns @aalicats87 @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut
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achilles-rage · 11 hours ago
Text
Close To You
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summary: buck takes you out to a nice restaurant, then you spend the night at his place; as close to each other as possible.
word count: 5.0k
request: @dreams-encapsulated-in-glamour - So I have a request, if possible! So it’s basically romantic!buck but he’s obsessed with making both you and him cum, like finishing together multiple times throughout the session if that makes sense, with aftercare too!
a/n: thank you so much for requesting this, it was so fun to write. also i definitely got a bit carried away, my bad lol. i really like how this turned out, so i hope you enjoy<33
warnings: smut, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
MDNI- 18+ Only!
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You smile widely at Buck when you open your front door, your eyes trailing down his suit-clad figure before you lean in to give him a quick kiss.
“This is last minute. What have you got planned tonight, Buckley?” you tease with a raised brow as he takes one of your hands in his and guides you to do a spin for him. He uses this time to let his eyes roam your body, taking in your pretty blue dress and the way it allows him to see every dip and curve of your body. His pretty girl.
“Just wanted to take you out for dinner. Is that a crime?” he says when you’re turned to face him again, teasing you right back and then pulling you both together. He guides your hand up to his shoulder, and then both of his hands grab your hips as he steps into your apartment, and he gives you another, deeper kiss. 
Honestly, he had a close call at work today, and it made him want to see you more than anything. And what better way to spend time with you than by treating you to a nice dinner?
“I guess not. Unless we don’t get dessert, then it’s most definitely a crime.” you reply when you pull away from the kiss, biting your lip as you look up at him with wide eyes. He chuckles, eyes studying your pretty face for a moment before he replies. God, he’d give you anything you asked for.
“Come on, I’m not a monster.” he teases, giving you a wink. You laugh softly, then begrudgingly part from him to grab your purse on your kitchen counter. Buck waits in the entryway, holding the door open as he watches you, and then you’re out the door and on your way down Buck’s jeep. 
You feel giddy as he drives to the restaurant, and he can feel the way your leg is bouncing as he keeps his hand firmly on your thigh. The movement makes your dress ride up your thigh ever so slightly, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Buck, but he tries to ignore it for now. He’s taking you for dinner first. 
You’ve been wanting to go to this new restaurant for months, but reservations are almost impossible to get; you’re not even sure how Buck managed to swing a last-minute reservation.
He acts like a perfect gentleman the whole night; not like you’re not completely used to that treatment from him, but the amount of effort he’s putting into this impromptu date night is making your whole body feel hot. You’re sure that if you weren’t surrounded by strangers right now, you’d be on top of him. 
It started with him opening your car door and helping you into the jeep, then telling you how gorgeous you looked at least four times on the way to the restaurant, then it was pulling out your chair for you, and then it was him insisting on paying for the entire meal. You tried to tell him that you should at least pay for dessert – even though all you have in your purse is your lip gloss and your phone, but it’s the thought that counts – but he shoots you down immediately. 
“I’m paying. It’s not your job to worry about paying for dates.” is all he says as he grabs the cheque, and you’re now completely sure that you’d be on top of him if it weren’t for being in public.
“What’s got you like this tonight?” you ask once you’re back in the jeep, the street lights illuminating Buck’s face every few seconds as you look over at him.
He squeezes your thigh twice as he glances over at you, an innocent smile on his face. He hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you all night, and it feels like torture to have to stare at the road until he gets you back to his place.
“Like what?” he asks, and you tilt your head to the side, your eyes narrowing even though there’s still a small smile on your face.
“I don’t know; nice dinner, getting all dressed up. I mean, you’re usually like this, but not this much.” you say and he sighs, shrugging. He doesn’t want to worry you, but he knows he’ll have to tell you eventually; he’s never been able to keep much from you. 
“Just wanna spend time with my girl.” he tries first, and when your eyes narrow more, he tries again. “I just had a bit of a close call at work today. Nothing major, but I just wanted to do something with you, I don’t know.”
Your eyes soften at his words, and although you’re worried about how close this call really was, you know that it’s part of the job, and that he’s made it home safe today either way.
You grab his hand off of your thigh and squeeze it, then bring it up to your lips to kiss the back of his hand. He smiles over at you, and he feels the blush on his cheeks at the tender moment. 
“I love you.” is all you say when you meet his gaze for a split second. He hums softly as he looks back at the road, finally pulling onto his street.
“I love you. So much.” he replies.
When you get to his building, it’s like a switch flips. The second the elevator doors close, your lips meet each other’s, and he’s pulling you in by the hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. 
Both of your hands start to wander as the elevator brings you to his floor; both of your breathing growing laboured and soft whines escaping your lips as you both fight the urge to rip the other’s clothes off.  When you hear the faint dinging, you part begrudgingly, both panting as Buck takes your hand again and leads you to his door.
As he unlocks his door, you wrap your arms around his torso from behind, running your nails up and down the thin fabric of his dress shirt. You can’t help the soft giggle that tumbles from your lips when he drops his keys and lets out a rough “fuck;” his hands shaking so much in anticipation for what he’s planning on doing to you that he can hardly focus. 
As soon as the door is unlocked, you both stumble inside, and he kicks the door closed with his foot as he cups your cheeks in his hands, bringing your lips together once again. Your purse drops to the floor as he kicks off his shoes, barely parting from your hot kiss as he backs you up towards the kitchen.
When you feel your back hit the kitchen counter, Buck’s hands slide down your ass to the back of your thick thighs and lift you onto the counter, making your dress ride up your thighs even more.
“God, you’re so beautiful. How did I get so lucky?” he whispers against your lips as his fingers trial up under your dress and along the outside of your thighs. You pull back with a dazed grin, eyes darting down to his puffy lips for a moment before you reply.
“I think I could ask you the same thing.” you tease, and he grins too. He admires you for a moment as you sit on his counter, your plush belly and thighs on full display for his eyes, and he has to fight back a groan. He’s so in love with you. 
He kneels in front of you for a moment, and you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, but then he grabs one of your ankles and begins to unbuckle your heel. You watch with a soft smile as he takes both your shoes off, and when he takes each one off, he finishes with pressing a soft kiss to your shin, just below the knee. 
When he stands back up, you both just stare at each other for a moment, looking into each other's eyes and both silently wondering how you got so lucky to find each other.
He brings your lips back to his for one more kiss, placing one hand on the side of your neck, before he trails kisses down your jaw to your neck. You tilt your head back immediately, and your hands eagerly go to his chest, trying blindly to push his suit jacket off of his shoulders. 
His lips don’t leave your neck as he shrugs off his jacket, and when his arms are free again, he wastes no more time in pushing your dress up to expose your lower half, the skirt now bunched around your waist.
Neither of you care that you’re both still fully clothed as you work to unbuckle Buck’s belt and he pushes your panties to the side, two fingers gliding through your slick folds. 
You bite your lips as you work to get his cock free, and when you’re finally able to pull him out of his pants, you waste no time in wrapping your hand around him. His two fingers have already plunged into your cunt as you stroke his cock, both of you moaning softly and bringing your lips together in a sloppy kiss as you try to focus on the other’s pleasure.
You try to keep a steady pace, running your thumb over the head of his cock every so often, but you’re finding it increasingly difficult as he uses two fingers to fuck you and his thumb to rub circles over your clit. 
To make matters worse, every few strokes, he sways forward; closer to you, and his tip presses against your dripping cunt so teasingly that you want to scream. If it weren’t for his desperate moans and grunts, you’d be sure that he’s doing it on purpose. His kisses to your neck feel white hot, and you can’t help but close your eyes as you keep your head tilted back.
When you feel him start to get closer to the edge, you slow your pace, moving achingly slow as he picks up the pace of his fingers. He curls them up to hit that spot inside you, and you mewl loudly, tilting your head back as you feel yourself getting close to the edge now, as well. He smirks as he sees your expression, and he coos softly, tilting your head back down with his other hand and bringing your lips back to his. 
In a few more strokes, he’s right on the edge, and he leans back from your lips again, urging you to take your hand off his cock and replacing it with his own. You lean back on your hands as you watch him, eyes glued to his hands as he continues to rub your clit roughly and fuck his fist, and in a few seconds, you’re both falling over the edge with loud moans.
He keeps his eyes on your cunt as you both cum, watching you clench around nothing as he paints your pussy with his cum. You bite your lips as your chest heaves, and you finally look back up to Buck’s face, meeting his eyes as you both try to catch your breaths. 
He finally removes his fingers and brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean with a soft groan. You watch him intently, your mouth going dry as you become unable to think about anything other than how fucking good your boyfriend looks right now. Sure, he’s attractive all the time, but right now, with his slightly wrinkled dress shirt and his blown pupils, you’re not sure how you’re ever able to leave the house.
“I’m nowhere near done with you.” Buck says, after he’s finished cleaning his fingers, then brings you in for another passionate kiss. He yanks you closer by your hips, and you put your hands on his chest, shaky hands working to unbutton the shirt so you can see his beautiful torso.
When you finally get the last button undone, your hands move back up to his chest, then to his shoulders, and you push the shirt down his arms and off his body. 
You part from his lips to look at his bare chest, your fingers ghosting across the scars and freckles on his skin. He chuckles softly as he watches your eyes move down his torso, seemingly in a daze, and he lets you look at him for a moment, then uses one hand to lift your chin back up to face him with a smile.
“It hardly seems fair that I’m practically naked and you’re still fully clothed, baby. I think I’m gonna have to even the playing field.” he teases, gesturing to his bare chest and his pants now sitting low on his thighs. 
You laugh softly, but it turns into a quiet yelp as he pulls you off the counter to stand in front of him and then turns you around and pushes your upper half onto the cold countertop. You hum softly, biting your lips as he grabs the hem of your dress and pushes it up to bunch around your waist again, admiring your pretty panties that have moved back into place from your movements and the dark wet spot now covering your cunt. 
In one swift motion he yanks your panties down, and you shiver as the cool air hits you.
“Almost there.” he whispers in your ear as he leans over you, pressing your back to his front. His arms loop around your torso, one hand landing on your plush tummy, and the other just above your chest, and then he pulls you back up to stand up straight.
 He works quickly to pull your dress off your body and throw it to the side, and then he works to get your bra unclasped, sliding the straps down your shoulders painfully slowly once it’s undone.
“You’re so pretty, baby. My pretty girl.” he rasps as he gently pushes you back down onto the countertop, and you whine softly, desperate to feel him. You push your hips back against his, and he groans as he grips your hips, stopping your actions.
“I’m getting there, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” he purrs, and you whimper in anticipation. As much as he normally likes to hear you beg, he doesn’t think he has it in him right now. So, without any warning, he grabs his cock and glides it through your folds, coating himself with your arousal, and then he buries himself to the hilt with a loud moan.
You lurch forward as you feel him stretch you out, feeling his tight grip on your hips as he slowly slides out almost completely, only to bury himself into your sopping cunt in one swift motion. As he starts to fuck you, all you can do is moan, and your cheek resting against the cold counter is a harsh contrast to the way your skin is burning. 
While he keeps one hand on your hip, his other moves up to your back, ghosting over your rolls and your stretch marks as he tries to touch as much of your skin as he can. You’re always so pretty for him, and right now is no exception.
His lips press hot kisses to the back of your neck and your back between low moans in your ear as he leans over you, and you can’t help the whimpers and pleas tumbling from your lips as he fucks into you like he hasn’t seen you in weeks.
As he keeps the steady pace of his thrusts, he leans down again, pressing his chest to your back. He’s desperate to feel you as much as he can; desperate to touch you and love on you, as if letting up on his hold will make you disappear right before his eyes.
He trails one of his hands from your hip to your arm, forcing you to hold your wrist up above your head on the counter as he intertwines your fingers, his palm pressed against the back of your hand; desperate to convey how much he loves you.
He fucks you slowly, moaning into your ear as he whispers soft praises into your ear. How good you feel around him. How well you take his cock. How pretty your moans are. He’s pressed so firmly against you as his hips move that it feels like he’s trying to mold you two together, not that you mind. Him being so close feels so good, the movements of his hips aside. 
He can feel you clenching around him, and he can hear the way your moans become more high pitched and breathy, and he knows you’re close. He picks up the pace just slightly, although it’s far more slow and sensual than usual, and you moan loudly, grip tightening on his fingers.
“You gonna cum with me, baby?” he murmurs in your ear, and you nod quickly, trying to move your hips back against him.
“Please, wanna feel you.” you whimper in response, and he smirks. He moves his other hand from your hip and wraps it around you, fingers moving to circle your clit sloppily as he tries to hold off on cumming too soon. He loves the feeling of both of you letting go together, and he’s desperate to bring you to the edge before he fucking explodes. 
“I’m gonna- I’m-” you moan breathlessly a few moments later, and with a few more thrusts, you’re both reaching your highs. You feel his cum painting your insides, and you let out a content sigh, smiling when you feel Buck bury his head in the crook of your neck. He rests there for a minute or two, still buried inside of you as you come down from your highs, and you can’t help your eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of his body on top of you consumes you.
“You’re always so good for me.” he whispers against your skin, his breath tickling you and making you let out a breathy laugh. 
“Can we do that again?” you tease, barely able to keep your eyes open as you focus on his voice. He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the middle of your back; right between your shoulder blades, then stands up straight. 
He finally slides out of you, groaning at the mess between your thighs as he spreads you open with his hands on your ass, then pulls you to stand up straight and turns you to face him.
“Patience, baby. We’ve got all night.” he murmurs as he moves one hand up to grip your throat gently, stopping you from rising onto your toes and kissing him again. 
His eyes soften as you pout, and he chuckles; he can’t say no to you. He leans down and gives you a featherlight kiss that leaves your head spinning. He’s usually gentle with you, unless you ask otherwise, but tonight, you can feel his love for you pouring out of him.
“You wanna go upstairs?” he asks when he pulls away, and you nod. Your knees feel weak at all the attention – and the orgasms he just pulled from you – so lying down sounds perfect right now. 
He pulls his pants back up, just until he can get to his room and take them off completely, then guides you up the stairs to his room, trying desperately to keep his eyes off your ass as you walk ahead of him. 
When you get to his room, you collapse onto his bed while he pulls his pants off, and when he’s finally lying beside you on his back and your cheek is pressed against his chest, you barely even think to care about the mess between your thighs. You’re sure you won’t be going to sleep soon either way.
“How bad was your close call today?” you ask after a few moments of silence, fingers trailing along his chest in front of your face.
“I mean, it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t being struck by lightning or anything.” he tries to joke, a sheepish look on his face. You lift your head off his chest and look up at him with a raised brow and he sighs. “Alright. I was trying to save someone who had fallen off their balcony, and was hanging on the side of their building. When I got lowered down, the winch malfunctioned, and I almost fell. I saved the person, though. Everyone’s alright.” 
You sigh, biting your lip. Of course his attention is focused on the person he saved.
“But are you okay?” you ask, and he nods quickly, giving you a look that shows you he’s not lying.
“Baby, I’m fine. Promise. You just saw all of me, I don’t have any bruises or anything.” he tries to joke, and this time you do laugh a little. He’s right; you hadn’t seen anything to convince you that he isn’t okay.
“You’re a good man.” you tell him after a second, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. He blushes, a smile fighting its way onto his face as he raises a brow. Your smile widens when you see his confused expression and hear the small “thank you” that falls from his lips before you explain.
“You just told me that you almost fell off a building today, and the first thing you said after that is that the person you were meant to save is alright.” His brows furrow, and he shrugs, a little confused as to why you’re praising him right now. Not that he minds, of course. “Well, yeah. That’s why I was there.” he says a bit hesitantly.
“Baby, if anyone else was in your situation, they’d probably only be worried about themself. I’m sure that as you were struggling to keep yourself from falling, you were still thinking about the person you were trying to save.” He can feel his cheeks getting hot at your praise, finally understanding. Although he doesn’t feel like he deserves the praise, he relishes in it, staring into your eyes with so much love.
“I’m so happy you’re all mine.” you whisper before you press your lips to his. He lets out a content sigh as his arm wraps around your waist, helping you sit up and straddle his hips.
Once you’re on his lap, legs on either side of his body, his hands move to your thick thighs, digging into the flesh as he melts into the kiss. He lets you kiss him for a minute or two, but it’s when you start moving your hips against his that he flips you over, trapping you under his weight.
You laugh softly as you stare up at him, wrapping your legs around his hips as he settles between your legs, and you can feel his cock against your heat, growing hard at the small bit of friction.
“You want more, huh, baby?” he teases you softly, although he knows that he wants you just as bad.
“Please?” you ask as you look up at him with big, wide eyes. He groans at the pleading look on your face, and he glides one hand down the side of your face as the other holds himself up.
“You’re gonna get what you want, pretty girl.” he murmurs before his lips are on yours. You moan against his lips as his tongue slides into your mouth, and you loosen your legs around his hips to allow him to grind against you slowly.
He’s painfully hard again as he moves against you, and he can’t hold himself back from grabbing his cock and sliding into you slowly after a few seconds, desperate to feel you again.
Your face scrunches up as he bottoms out, and you keep your eyes on him as he begins to move, soft moans tumbling from your parted lips.
He can’t get over how pretty you look under him; sprawled out on his bed, your soft belly and tits moving with each thrust, and your big eyes locked on his as he splits you open on his cock. He can feel your skin against his as he moves his hips, one hand still holding himself up while the other moves down your neck to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts.
You arch your back into him, tilting your head back and closing your eyes as the pleasure envelopes you. He takes the time to admire you again, and relishes in how you feel pressed against him, so eager to take all that he’s willing to give you.
He looks back up at your face after a moment, then gently taps your cheek with two fingers, urging you to open your eyes again. When your eyes flutter open again, he moans, feeling your fingers digging into his shoulders as he stares deeply into your eyes. 
You’re both feeling sensitive from your previous orgasms, so it doesn’t take long for both of you to get close to the edge yet again. Buck keeps his eyes locked with yours the entire time, however, loving every expression that crosses your face and how you look spread open for him on his bed. 
As you both get closer and closer, he moves his hand to your throat, gripping it gently, as if to force you to keep your eyes open, he can tell that you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. 
“Can you give me one more, baby?” he asks and you nod, whimpering as you keep your eyes locked on his. You can see the thin layer of sweat across his skin, and you bite your lip, feeling yourself getting dangerously close to the edge.
He pulls you in for a kiss, his hand still firmly on your throat, and his thrusts grow sloppy as his balls tighten.
With a few more thrusts, you’re both falling over the edge, and Buck leans away from your lips just in time for you to watch each other cum. As his hips still, you take the time to close your eyes, breathing heavily as you feel his release fill you up. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to that feeling.
“God, I love you.” he whispers as he nuzzles into your neck. He presses soft kisses to your skin as you both come down from your highs, letting you relax as he keeps your fronts pressed together. 
“I love you.” you whisper back, your eyes still closed as you bask in the feeling of him still pressed against you.
After a minute or two, he pulls out, and you whimper softly, suddenly feeling extremely empty. You frown when you see him stand up from the bed, but when he holds out a hand to you, you smile.
“Shower?” is all he says. You nod, grabbing his hand and letting him help you off the bed. 
He leads you to the bathroom, then wraps his arms around you and holds you close while you wait for the shower to heat up. He presses kisses to the top of your head as you rest against his chest, both of you wanting to stay as close to each other as possible; not wanting to be apart for even a second.
When you’re showered; each of you taking turns to help wash the other, you dry off and get back into bed. You relax into each other’s embrace, warm skin to skin as you try not to let the quick approaching sleep envelope you too soon.
“Do you want some water?” Buck is the first to break the silence, and you shake your head, too consumed with the feeling of his chest pressed to your back to even think about one of you getting out of bed.
“I just wanna lay with you.” you tell him in a quiet voice, sighing. He smiles, then presses a kiss to the back of your neck. Who is he to deny you such a sweet request?
“I love you so much, you know that, right?” he asks, his arms tightening instinctively around your waist. You smile, nodding quickly. “Of course I do. And I love you, too. More than anything.” you reply, and he’s sure that if you both weren’t so tired, he’d have you on your back again.
“Good. Because I let you order two desserts and split them even though I only wanted one of them.” he teases with a quiet chuckle. You laugh along with him, rolling your eyes.
“And I’m pretty sure you ended up liking the other one better, anyway.” you tease back, an exhausted smile plastered onto your face. He scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, whatever. You’re always right, aren’t you?” he says, and you can tell from his voice that he’s smiling. You nod, giggling softly.
“It’s about time you admitted it.” you counter. You feel goosebumps on your skin when you feel his lips press to your bare shoulder, and you sigh, your eyes closing once again.
“Go to sleep, I can feel how tired you are.” he whispers in your ear. You hum softly, sighing heavily. You can feel your thoughts become cloudy, and it feels like everything is moving slower as you sink further into his arms.
“Can we do this again next weekend?” you ask in a quiet voice, and although you meant for it to come out in a teasing tone, you’re so tired that it comes out as more of a gentle plea.
“Of course, pretty girl, I promise. Now, go to sleep.” You nod slowly, and not a minute later, you’re asleep. He presses one last featherlight kiss to your bare skin before he closes his own eyes. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep either, it never does after he has you, but this time he’s out in record time, and his arm stays firmly draped over your waist the entire night.
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pregobirthlvr · 3 days ago
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Public shower birth
• ————— •
Possible TW: this story contains some noncon themes (unwanted exhibitionism)
Also contains: pregnancy, birth, labor, public birth,
• —————————————— •
I grip the handles of the shower stall. A public pool bathroom was not the place I wanted to have this baby but it had different plans. Thankfully it was early enough there weren’t that many people around to see what was happening. Still, I tried to keep quiet behind the sound of running water and the thin plastic curtain that covered the shower stall.
I could feel the next contraction start to rip through me. I gasp and grab the bars harder. I squat down slightly and push hard. I shake and writhe around while I somehow find it in me to push. I make it to the end of my contraction when I hear the door open.
“What was that noise?” A man’s voice said.
I tried to hide my breathing even more and think to myself ‘Did I enter the wrong bathroom… I thought the ones restrooms were on the right.”
I tried to think back. Suddenly I remember I stumbled and got turned around at the entry way from a large contraction. I must have walked into the wrong bathroom by mistake.
I didn’t have time, nor the ability to fix it now. I tried to fix the curtain to close as much as I could. It wasn’t very effective to begin with but I was mostly covered. I didn’t have time to fuss with it, I now had to focus on my next contraction.
The next contraction came just as one of the men that walked in appeared in the stall next to me. I grab harder at the bar in the shower and try my hardest to stay quiet. I end up squatting and buring my face in my arm to get through. I labor again a few moments later the man still in the stall next to me. Then again and again.
Finally, I hear the water turn off and I let out a sign of relief. It was short lived when I hear the foot steps of a second man approaching.
“Hey you don’t yet?” Another man voice said.
“Yeah I’m about to hop out,” The first man said back.
They started to mess around, and I tried my best to tune them out as another contraction started. I grip the bars again and spread my legs wide. My concentration was abruptly ruined when the two men ripped the curtain to my shower stall down.
I let out a gasp. My focus now pulled away from being quiet, I let out a deep loud moan as my contraction reaches its peak. With the curtain down, I try to cover myself up, which wasn’t working in the middle of a contraction. It didn’t help that the men that just ruined my privacy were now staring at me. Just watching me push and grunt my baby out.
“Please don’t look,” I say blushing and panting hard after my contraction.
Neither of them said a word. They just stared at my body.
“Please don’t look at-“ I get cut off by another contraction. I push hard the lips of my vagina spreading around the babies head.
When I stop pushing the head sinks back in. “No. No. No. please stay out…” I beg.
I gently sit back leaning against one of the walls legs spread to my onlookers. When I realize the position I’m in I try to start scooting across the floor to get more privacy. I get stopped almost immediately by another contraction.
I toss my head back and cry out. I instinctively spread my legs and push hard. I scream and grunt my way through the contraction. I shakily reach down and feel between my thighs. The babies head was half way out.
“Please help me,” I beg to the men.
“I think you’re doing a great job all on your own,” one says.
“Yeah you’re doing amazing,” The other one says.
Another contraction cut of any attempt for me to try and plead for it. I braces myself and pushed hard again. I was exhausted but this baby had to come out.
“Almost done,” I gasp out. I look up to see my audience has grown. Two more guys have showed up just in time to see me push this baby out.
With another big push the head popped free. A gush of fluids splattered the floor and flowed down the shower drain. I took a moment to breathe then pushed again the shoulders and body sliding the rest of the way out of me and into my hands.
I lay on the shower floor with my baby on my chest when I finally hear someone say “maybe we should call an ambulance.”
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pamwritessometimes · 2 days ago
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Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 5
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Russell Shaw x reader
Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.
Warnings: description and mention of murder, language, absolutely cliché cliffhanger
A/N: Hey, lovely moots! Just a heads-up that things are about to get a little hectic on my end with writing my MA thesis and juggling work over the next few weeks, so there might be a slight delay in the next chapter. Thanks so much for your patience and understanding & most importantly for loving this story so far. Hope you enjoy the read in the meantime! 🤍
Catch up on Chapter 4 here
Tuesday’s Gone masterlist
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Previously:
With Emma snug in your arms and a renewed sense of determination, you stepped into the night together. 
For a second, the three of you standing there almost looked like some offbeat family photo… bittersweet, and about as far from normal as it gets.
But the moment you took in your surroundings, you felt a chill sensation. This sure as hell didn’t look like Idaho Falls. Nor the rundown warehouse you’d started in.
You had no idea where you were. 
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You tightened your grip on Emma, feeling the weight of her small body pressing into you like an anchor. And you undoubtedly needed that goddamn anchor then and there. Wherever there was.
She looked up at you with wide, tired and weary eyes, sensing the danger but too young to understand the why of it all. She was still shivering from being held hostage in a — what exactly? You turned around to take a glance at the building you and Emma were taken to. It was some sort of a fort-looking, massive, brutalist building. The unpainted concrete walls and the defined, sharp edges just gave the already eerie atmosphere another layer of creepiness. 
Russell also took a look at the building, but his mind was occupied with finding something — anything, really, that indicated where they were.
He scanned the empty streets. The whole place looked deserted and industrial. Old factory buildings with busted-out windows, a chain-link fence rusting along the perimeter, and no signs of life except for a stray cat slinking through the shadows. 
This is what The Rolling Stones was singing about in Living In A Ghost Town, he thought.
Russell glanced around, brow furrowed.
“This… doesn’t look good” he muttered, looking like he was trying to solve a Rubik's Cube with one hand tied behind his back.
“No kidding” you shot back, keeping your tone as light as you could manage for Emma’s sake, but your heart was thumping like a jackhammer. You were about three seconds away from a nervous breakdown — which, at this point, would probably be your hundredth. “So, genius… what’s the plan?”
Russell glanced at you, clearly trying to keep it together, but the frustration in his voice was impossible to miss. “I’m trying to come up with one. But I’m pretty sure you won’t like it.”
“There wasn’t any part of this I liked in the first place!” you grumbled.
Just then, a low rumble echoed from somewhere in the distance, a car engine revving up, headlights slicing through the dark. At the sound of voices barked orders, “Get ‘em!” and “Don’t fucking let them get away!”, Russell muttered a curse under his breath, pulling you both back into the shadows.
You flattened yourself against the cold wall, clutching Emma close. The car’s headlights swept across the cracked pavement, illuminating the scene for a heartbeat before the light passed, leaving you in the cover of darkness again. You held your breath, listening as the car slowed, idling nearby.
Russell’s eyes met yours, a silent message passing between you. You could almost hear his thoughts screaming This wasn’t part any of the plans I came up with.
The car's engine finally faded, and Russell took a slow, perfectly controlled breath. Huh. “Alright” he whispered. “Follow me. We stick to the backstreets, stay low, and pray they don’t have the whole damn town locked down.”
You raised an eyebrow, attempting a dry smile despite the tension. “So, no master plan, just hope for the best? Excellent.”
His lips twitched, a hint of his usual smirk breaking through. “Welcome to my life.”
With that, he led the way down the alley, sticking close to the wall and guiding you through the maze of abandoned buildings. Emma clung to you, her little fingers curled into your shirt with a force that no four-year-old should bear, and you stroked her back, whispering soft reassurances you weren’t sure you even believed yourself.
And honestly, you weren’t sure who needed the comfort more, her or you.
A few blocks down, you came across an old diner with a busted sign hanging above. It looked deserted. Perfect. Russell motioned for you to duck inside, the three of you slipping into the dimly lit space, huddling behind an overturned booth.
Russell scanned the room. “We’ll wait here for a few minutes. I need to come up with a plan.”
You nodded, settling Emma down and trying to keep your own nerves in check. It was just the three of you now, in a dusty, forgotten diner on the edge of nowhere, hiding from a nightmare that had yet to let you go. As you leaned back against the booth, you glanced at Russell, whose eyes were still scanning the room, like he could will a plan into existence if he stared hard enough. “So, any ideas on where exactly we are?”
He shrugged, offering a look that was almost... endearing in its hopelessness. “Somewhere... not Idaho Falls?”
You couldn’t help it. A low, incredulous laugh slipped out of your lips. “Well, thanks, Sherlock. That really narrows it down.”
“We’re far from home?” Emma's voice cut through the hushed tension.
You froze as you looked at her wide, curious and somewhat nervous eyes. 
“Yes, we are” Russell said before you could answer. Your eyes snapped at his face with a questioning expression, then he continued “… because we are on a little adventure.”
You shot him a look. Adventure? Was that what we were calling it now? Maybe you’d missed the part where your life turned into a bad action movie. But you just kept quiet. No point in crushing the adventure vibe. And you had no better idea how to explain it to her without mounting the trauma of the situation to her.
Emma turned to him as he spoke and after a moment of silence, her little voice hit his ears. “Who’s he?” she asked, pointing at Russell.
Russell blinked back, like she’d just asked him how to solve world hunger in the span of five minutes. He’d only met her about an hour ago, and now this. The million-dollar question.
Your dad, his mind screamed, but his mouth rather formed the following sentence.
“Uh, I’m a friend of your mom’s” he said, flashing her a smile that wasn’t exactly convincing. The truth was right there, hanging in the air like a bad smell, but neither of you were about to air it out yet. Not now, and definitely not here. "My name's Russell."
Emma didn’t seem to notice the weirdness, though. She just nodded like that made sense. And you? You were still stuck on the fact that your life had turned into a poorly scripted Bruce Willis-movie.
Emma tilted her head while her expression turned adorably thoughtful. “You’re hairy. Like grandpa.”
Russell chuckled as he ran a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s my pirate look.”
Her eyes lit up at the word pirate. “Are you a pirate?! Can I be one, too?”
“Absolutely” he replied. “But we have to be sneaky pirates, okay? No one can know we’re here.”
Your heart did a little flip at the sight. The way he talked to your daughter. His daughter. His voice was surprisingly soft and sweet, even in this situation. Emma’s reaction wasn’t a shock, though. She had a habit of linking beards (like the one your dad rocked) with safety and familiar love.
“Okay!” Emma nodded so seriously it was like she’d just signed up for a full-on treasure hunt. “What’s our treasure?” she asked, her little brain clearly putting the pieces together. If we’re on an adventure, we must be looking for something, right?
Russell didn’t miss a beat. “Finding you is the biggest treasure there is” he said, throwing you a quick look that somehow managed to be both warm and determined. “Your mom was worried sick about you.”
Emma’s serious face melted into a grin, giggling like she’d just figured out the punchline of a joke she didn’t even know she was in. “I’m a treasure!”
Russell couldn’t help but smile back, watching her with something a little different in his eyes now. There was something about this brave little girl that made him feel a little less lost in the middle of all this chaos.
Just then, the sound of tires screeching echoed from down the street, and he stiffened, pulling you both deeper into the shadows, close to his chest.
"We need to move” Russell said, his voice sharp with urgency. The fact that he still didn’t have a solid plan didn’t seem to slow him down. Without warning, he scooped Emma up into his arms, his eyes softening just a fraction as he did. “We’ll move faster this way, pirate” he added, his lips twitching into a grin. “Just stay quiet, little treasure hunter, ‘kay?”
Emma blinked at him, clearly processing this new development like she was on the set of some kind of action flick. But after a beat, she nodded, her little hands clutching his shirt like she was ready to face whatever was next.
This whole scene was surprising. She seemed to like him already — and that was backed by the way she smiled back at you from his arms. 
You could hardly believe your eyes. 
In the midst of a kidnapping, Russell somehow made her forget the fear and pain of the past few days, if only for a moment.
Russell gave her a quick wink before looking back at you. The plan might still be nonexistent, but at least someone was acting like they had it together.
With Emma snug in his arms, Russell headed out quietly, leading you through the maze of shadows and concrete buildings. The screeching tires faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic pounding of your heart that you could feel in your eardrums. 
“Alright, pirate crew” Russell whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings like he was already in full-on mission mode. And he probably was. “We need an escape route. And I need your sharp eyes on lookout, got it? Keep ‘em peeled for any bad guys.”
“Bad guys?” she echoed, looking around, wide-eyed. “Are they gonna hurt us?”
Russell shook his head, grinning. “Not a chance. We’re pirates, remember? We’ll outsmart them easily. Right, captain?”
Emma giggled, playing along like she was born for this. And you had to hand it to him — Russell knew exactly what he was doing. Using the pirate game to sneak his way in, to worm his way through to your daughter. You hated to admit it, but... yeah, it was working.
“Alright, crew, any bright ideas?” you whispered, forcing as much lightness into your tone as you could muster for Emma’s sake.
But before anyone could answer, you heard it—tires screeching, closer this time, much too close. The sound scraped at your nerves, a noise that would probably haunt your nightmares for weeks. If your survive it, that is. Your heart skipped a beat as headlights sliced through the dark, illuminating everything for a split second before they vanished again.
"Shi—“ you muttered, but quickly bit the end as you glanced at your daughter.
Russell’s face hardened, the easy smile he’d been wearing slipping away. "Stay down, stay quiet. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
Emma clutched at his shirt. “What’s happening?”
Russell’s jaw tightened, and for a second, you could have sworn you saw actual fear in his eyes. Like he knew something bad was about to happen. Something fatal.
“We’re playing a new game now, treasure hunter. It’s called ‘hide and don’t get caught'” he said, his eyes darting around, until they landed on a massive tree surrounded by some half-crushed rocks.
And just like that, he got the plan.
Without wasting another second, Russell shoved Emma back into your arms, nudging you both behind the tree. You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes was all the explanation you needed. There was no room for negotiation. This wasn’t just another close call; he was done running.
“Stay here” he whispered. “… and whatever you hear… don’t come out” he added. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, like he was taking in all of your little features; the way your hair framed your face, the slight tremor in your shoulders, your lashes looking slightly vet from fear. You looked like you’d been through a storm, and honestly, you had. But to him, standing there, you and Emma were worth every bruise, every risk.
With one last look, he turned, placing himself between you and the approaching threats.
You barely had time to register anything before you heard a car door creak open. You couldn’t see a thing from your hiding spot, but you didn’t need to. You knew exactly who it was. Rourke, or one of his Horizon lackeys. And Russell? He was still out there. With only a single gun and that damn stubborn fire in his eyes (that you somehow always adored). 
It was insane. He was insane.
Your pulse raced, heart hammering in your chest as you pressed yourself further into the shadows, praying Russell had a plan. Or, at the very least, that his unshakable confidence wouldn’t get him killed. You could hear the shuffle of boots approaching, slow and controlled.
You held Emma close, her small fingers tightening around you as she buried her face against your shoulder. You stroked her back gently, whispering, “Shh… we’re just playing hide and seek, yeah?" you asked, echoing Russell's words from earlier. "Can you… can you stay quiet for me?” 
Her fearful eyes were shiny from unshed tears, but she nodded. The guilt hit you like a punch to the gut. God, you’d never felt more of a failure as a mom than in that moment. You were supposed to keep her safe, to protect her, not drag her into this mess.
Outside, Russell didn’t flinch as the footsteps drew closer, his body poised like a coiled spring, ready to move. You could only listen, heart hammering, hoping he had some kind of plan up his sleeve because this wasn’t a fight he could take on alone.
“Come on, Shaw” a voice called from the shadows, the kind of voice that made you want to punch something. Rourke. Of course. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and just plain out of luck. Come back to us… and maybe we’ll consider not wiping out your adorable little family."
Russell’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he took a step closer to the darkened street. He didn’t raise his voice, but the steel in his tone was unmistakable. “You touch one hair on their heads, and you’ll regret it, Rourke.”
Rourke chuckled with a sound so smug, it almost made you physically ill. “You know, Shaw, I thought you were smarter than this. Putting your life on the line... and for what? You can’t win here.”
Russell didn’t waver, his voice low and steady. “You don’t know a damn thing about what’s worth fighting for.”
“Oh, I think I do” Rourke sneered, taking another step closer, his figure shifting in the moonlight. “I know weakness when I see it. I see it every time I look at you.”
A beat of silence. It was deafening.
“And I see a coward” Russell finally replied. “Hiding behind hired thugs, preying on those who can’t fight back. Real tough guy... That's what you enjoy, huh? That's the reason for that little side hustle of yours?" he asked. "Does Morello still have no clue about it?"
Morello? Side hustle? What was Russell playing at?
Rourke’s smug grin faltered, but only for a second. “You talk a big game, Shaw. Let’s see if you back it up.” He motioned to his men, weapons glinting faintly. Russell mirrored their actions.
You couldn't see anything, but the sounds were lound and clear. You’ve never felt this scared in your life. Ever.
From your hidden spot behind the tree, you felt Emma’s little arms clutch you tighter, sensing the danger. Your heart pounded as you watched Russell’s shadow standing alone, facing them all down.
Then Rourke took one last step forward. “Final offer, Shaw” his voice creaked with menace. “Come with us, and maybe, just maybe, your bitch and offspring stay intact.”
Russell’s grip on his gun tightened. “Big words for a guy who needs an entourage to feel important” he shot back. “But I’ll pass on the offer, thanks.”
Rourke’s face twisted, anger finally replacing his smirk. “Fine,” he spat. “You want to play hero, Shaw? Then let’s see if you survive it.”
And then, without warning, bang. The most terrifying gunshot sound you’ve ever experienced.
Not that you’ve never heard a gunshot before. It wasn’t necessarily the sound you found terrifying… but rather the silence that followed, and the uncertainty of who was at the receiving end.
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Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 6):
“I know you don’t want to“ he began, holding up a hand before you could get a word in. “But you and Emma need to check into the hospital. Just to be sure she’s okay, no hidden bumps or bruises.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t try to be a hero. Do it for her, if not for yourself. And…maybe a little for me, too.”
His eyes softened as he looked at you both. “I need to know you’re safe. After everything that just went down, I don’t think I could handle one more surprise tonight.”
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I know, such a cliché and terrible cliffhanger. But what can I say? Don’t fix what’s not broken.
Chapter 6 coming soon…
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stanpinesdykewife · 1 day ago
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Helloo!! So I love love love all of your work you have do on AO3 so much I'm so happy I found you on tumbler! Your writing is absolutely beautiful. I was wondering if you could maybe do a short fluff piece going off of speed dating and easy? Something where reader has had a hard day and isn't up for spicy time and just wants to be taken care of? Just something soft and sweet please and thank yooouuu! 💓🫶🏻💓
hiii!!! giggling at your super sweet compliments thank you so so much! i love the speed dating universe so even though this was sitting half-baked in my drafts for a while this was really nice to write!!! thanks so much for waiting, i hope you like this! under the cut:
boring stan/reader (gender-neutral) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified fluff, 800 words (bonus: sfw bedtime stan headcanons)
You're in bed, lying on your side, Stan's whole body pressed against yours when you finally squirm away from his lips on your shoulder. He stops, his hand stilling on your waist where he'd bunched up your shirt to touch your bare skin. You're clenching your eyes shut, embarrassed, as a beat of silence passes.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Stan asks from behind you, his voice hesitant. He starts to slide his hand off your waist when you grab it, keeping it there. Stan stops again, but this time sounds confused when he starts, “Uh, did I—”
“No. You didn't do anything, sorry, I'm just…” You struggle to find the words for a second. Another tense pause passes, unusual, even eerie in your normally lively company with Stan. Finally, you sigh. “I'm really tired.”
You hesitate for another moment before tugging Stan's hand over your waist, further underneath your shirt to the bare skin of your stomach. Stan goes along with it, like he always does, just letting you move his arm and press his palm flat to your body. The touch draws another deep sigh from you.
“Tough day, huh?” Stan says, any heat gone from his voice to make room for something softer. He glides his thumb over your stomach and you relax as his breath fans over your shoulder. He's kind of awkward with the emotional stuff, and maybe a little put out by you wriggling away from him a moment ago. You are, too. But Stan's voice is still kind when he offers, “You wanna… I dunno. Talk about it? Vent?”
“I think I just need to lay here,” you mutter, unmoving. Stan hums behind you, idly tracing light arches into your skin.
Then he pulls away, shuffling backwards away from your body towards his (mutually agreed-upon, unspoken) side of the bed. Your brows furrow and you turn to look over your shoulder as Stan gets comfortable on his back. He sighs when his head hits the pillow, then catches your eye. There's a little pink to his cheeks when he opens his arms.
“C'mon, let's get you comfortable,” Stan grumbles, though his eyes are warm. You brighten, just a little, and quickly roll over to lay your chest on his. Stan's big arms come around you as you hug him, pressing your cheek to his collarbone and slinging one leg over his. Once you settle down, the two of you are thoroughly tangled up in each other in a way you can only describe as cozy.
“This is nice,” you sigh, nosing at the base of his neck before letting your head lay comfortably on his shoulder. Stan rubs his hand over your spine, making you melt into him. You yawn.
“Am I boring you?” Stan says, grin in his voice. You laugh through the tail end of your yawn, shaking your head.
“If anything, I'm boring you,” you say, but Stan tuts and cuts you off before you can say anything else.
“None o’ that. I didn't have the energy anyway,” he says, nonchalant. You lean upwards slightly to raise a brow at him, glancing pointedly at the tent in his boxers. Stan grabs the side of your head and shoves you back into his chest, making you laugh. “Ignore that.” 
“I love you,” you say, because it feels like the right thing to say. Stan freezes. You pause, your smile dropping. Was that the first time you've ever said that? “Um… You don't have to—”
“Love you, too, sweetheart—Uh, honey. Honey sweet… sugar. Sugar sweet, syrup baby—bird. Baby bird,” Stan rambles, his voice becoming more strained with every word. You laugh out loud again as he continues, stumbling over the nicknames, “Honey ball, uh, balls—Sugar balls. Candy pie.”
“Sugar balls!” you cackle, trying to shove yourself up again. But Stan tightens his grip on you, one arm pinning you down by your back and the other coming around to keep your head still on his chest as you kick your feet. “Haha, Stan! Let me up, I'm suffocating, I'm dying—”
“I'll see you in the afterlife,” Stan says sagely, then rolls over to pin you under his full weight. You're still laughing, and Stan starts to laugh with you, even as he play-fights his hand over your mouth to get you to stop. You peek up at him, giddiness growing in your chest at the violent flush on his face, the shy fondness in his smile.
You chuckle into his hand and lick his palm, making Stan yelp and rip it away, and you take advantage to wriggle out from under him and shove him onto his side.
You'll get back to cuddling in a few minutes. For now, you're gonna wrestle and laugh and let the person you love make you feel better.
sfw bedtime stan headcanons:
stan loves staying in bed all day when he has someone to do it with, especially since he rarely has off-days between work and the portal and post-canon sailing with ford
he is touch-starveddd and loves laying there doing nothing but cuddling or rolling around or wrestling or... you know... giggles
he doesn't do it often because he does believe in eating food and watching television. but when he does, he's there ALL day
he's gross he has crumbs in his bed you can't look me in the eyes and say he doesn't
i feel like during canon it would be reasonable for him to have developed insomnia... but post-canon i think he'd love sleeping in with VERY specific circumstances. his brother is out solo-exploring for a day, the twins are at a sleepover and don't need breakfast, stan isn't expected to visit the shack? he's sleeping for 20 hours straight
even if he doesn't sleep in i feel like if his partner had the day off or even worked from home and hung out in their room all day stan would absolutely be glued to the mattress
maybe these hcs feel out of character to me just a little bit but consider: you wake up to big beefy arms tugging you closer by your waist and a LOUD ass cozy snore from above your head
giggling about morning breath and trying to push stan off the bed to guzzle some mouthwash
he's embarrassed at first because he has to take his dentures out in front of you and pop em back in in the morning it's a whole thing, but eventually he gets comfortable enough that you're allowed to make the cleaning solution for him at bedtime and offer the glass for him to put the dentures in
sorry if the dentures thing threw anyone off because for a few seconds there it threw me off erm but i'm nothing if not determined to establish my alpha position as old man lover no matter what.
ANYWAY. this list got away from me a little bit
final bed hc stan is not used to sharing a bed with another person he hogs the blankets. as in he'll literally wake you up in the middle of the night because he'll be sleeping and roll over and take all the blankets with him and you will never get to have them again without tugging so hard. he has no idea he does this until you offhandedly mention it months into dating
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fanficsbysteve · 1 day ago
Text
The Best for the Both of Them
This will be my first foray into writing fanfiction in a long long time so please be kind. Constructive Criticism is always welcome. Hate Mail is not. I also haven't used Tumblr in awhile so if anyone has any suggestions on how I can make my posts better or easier for you all to read, please let me know.
Rated: PG? WC: 4863
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 “I’ll see you around Buck”, Tommy stood for a second before he walked to the door and out of Evan’s loft. His mind was reeling from what he just did. Evan had been the best thing to ever happen to him, and he had just ended it. Did he do the right thing? He kept walking eventually coming to his truck. He got in and looked up at the windows to Evan’s loft. He saw his now ex-boyfriend standing there looking out at him.
                “This is the best thing for both of us,” he told himself as he started the truck up and drove off towards his house, “It was never meant to last anyways. I’m his first not his last” he just kept telling himself that as a means of justifying it to himself. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes as he drove towards his house. He didn’t want to do that. Evan was the sweetest and most caring person he had ever known. But he couldn’t handle the heartbreak if he decided that Tommy wasn’t enough for him. Yes that was an incredibly Biphobic mentality to have, and he knew it, but your brain is never logical when it comes to your emotions and your potential for heartbreak.
                He pulled into his driveway and turned off his truck. Sitting in his truck he let the tears start to roll down his cheeks. Sobs racked his body as he just let out all the sadness that he was feeling over what he had done. He desperately wanted to take out his phone and call Evan and say he was sorry. Say he didn’t mean it. Beg him for forgiveness. But he knew he couldn’t do that. No this was how it had to be.
                After about 10 minutes of the ugliest crying, he had ever done in his life, he composed himself, got out of his truck and head inside his house. It was going to be a long night, and he knew it. This was the best for the both of them.
***
                Tommy took a couple days off work so he could just get all his crying out. His work best friend, Jessica, had come by a couple times during that time to check in on him and see how he was doing. She reported to him that he always looked like shit and that he needed to pull himself together. She really didn’t get it though did she. She had been with her husband for as long as he knew her.
                After the third day, Tommy again pulled himself together and compartmentalize all his emotions like he had grown accustomed to all those many years ago. Looking around his house he found so many things that reminded him of Evan. Some of his clothes that he had left behind after a night over, a toothbrush, some different knickknacks that he bought for Tommy to keep in his apartment to remind him. Sighing, Tommy picked up a box and started to place all of Evan’s items into it. He kept the pictures. And a hoodie. He may have broken up with Evan, but he didn’t want to forget about him completely. He was a big part of his life for the past 6 months. Everything else went into this box.
                He spent the better part of a day trying to decide the best way to get these items back to Evan. He didn’t feel ready to see Evan again so going to the loft to drop them off was probably not in the cards. Maybe Eddie or Chim could get them to him. Though not sure if that was going to be easy either. They were both closer to Evan than they were to him. Wouldn’t hurt to try anyways.
                Tommy took out his phone and shot a quick text message off to Eddie. He didn’t expect anything back right away, but little did he know, “You fucked up bud” was all he got back at first.
“Don’t you think I thought this through,” he responded back.
“Doesn’t mean you didn’t fuck up” Eddie wrote back.
“I have a bunch of Evan’s stuff that he left at my place that needs to get back to him,” Tommy wrote quickly, “And I don’t think either of us wants to see each other right now.”
“I spent the past 3 days with a very drunk Evan pining over you hard,” Eddie replied, “You have no idea how badly this is affecting him.”
“He doesn’t know how this is affecting me either,” Tommy sent back, “Can I leave his stuff with you, and you give it to him?”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” Eddie wrote back, “But I think the two of you need to talk this out. Sometime before my liver gives out.”
                Tommy sighed and took the box to his Truck, meaning to head towards Eddie’s house. At least Eddie was still talking to him, which was a good sign. He hadn’t fucked things up with the entire 118 at least. He drove about an hour to get to Eddie’s house. Seeing Evan’s Jeep parked out front, Tommy drove right past the front of Eddie’s house and parked a ways up the street so that he wouldn’t be noticed. God, he needed to mature up, but he really didn’t want to see Evan right now. He had just gotten himself to stop crying and he knew that if he saw him it would start the tears up again.
                Tommy slowly walked up towards Eddie’s house, navigating like some weird stalker up the sidewalk and deposited the box outside the door to Eddie’s house. He snapped a quick picture of the box and Eddie’s door and hurried down the walkway, sending a picture of the box to Eddie with a quick message of “I can’t see him yet. The box is outside your door.”
                Tommy drove back to his place, hyperventilating a little bit over what could have happened. He needed to stay strong. This was the best for the both of them.
***
                It had been a month since he ended things with Evan. Work kept him busy so that was beneficial for him. He could throw himself into work and forget everything. He did tend to avoid using the mouth static because it reminded him of Evan. His captain was probably very appreciative of that.
                Tommy had taken to using Tinder to see if he could get someone to date again. He did miss the companionship that Evan gave. Someone to hold at night. Problem was that he was trying to pick a fish from the sea that was Gay LA. The amount of people that just wanted to have sex with him far outweighed the people looking for a nice date.
                He did find the rare gentlemen not looking for a quick fuck which was nice. Tommy wasn’t ready to dip his toes back into THAT market just yet. Besides if he wanted that he would have been on Grindr, not Tinder. Men were just horndogs no matter where they were.
                Tommy swiped right on a handsome man that he saw and got the “Match” signal, so he started messaging this person. He was 5’6, fit, brown hair, blue eyes, worked as a nurse at one of the local hospitals. Tommy decided to go on a date with this guy. Have a nice dinner and a movie. That was his typical first date. Had it been that before Evan and will continue to be that after. He just needed to figure out a restaurant.
                The night of the date came, and Tommy met this new guy at the restaurant. His name was Bryant, and he was closer to Tommy’s age than Evan had been. He wouldn’t admit it in person, but he felt a little bad when he and Evan were together since there was such a large age gap.
                Bryant had chosen a nice Vietnamese restaurant to meet up at, and Tommy would be picking the movie. They ordered their dishes after sitting and waited. Tommy looked around the room a bit, taking in his surroundings. It was a nice place, he thought, and then a thought he didn’t want to have came up ‘Evan would really like this. He likes to try all kinds of new food.’
                He had to stop himself. He was drifting off into thinking of Evan and that wouldn’t have ended well. Bryant was talking and Tommy hadn’t heard a thing he said in his revelry. God he was the worst person to go on a date with right now. His thoughts constantly running back to Evan like some kind of sick masochist. No, he wouldn’t let that man keep such a vice grip on his heart. This was the best of the both of them.
***
                It had been 6 months since he had broken up with Evan. He had managed to match with about 10 very nice gentlemen in that time, and failed to go on a second date with about 6 of them. Why was he so bad at this? It was never this bad with Evan. Not even remotely. They always got along and always had things to talk about.
                Sitting down at the coffee shop, a handsome Latin man sitting across from him, Tommy sipped at his drink while half listening to the man talking about his life. He was interested, really he was. He just couldn’t make his mind focus. It kept going back to thoughts of Evan.
                The bell above the door rang as someone came in again. They were sitting near to the door, so Tommy had a bird’s eye view of the people walking in. And what he saw made his heart clench in his chest. Walking in through that doorway was Evan. He was there with a very beautiful blonde woman. God, he looked amazing still. Hopefully he didn’t see Tommy.
                Quickly looking away, Tommy hoped against all hope that Evan didn’t notice him. He didn’t want to create a scene or end things badly on this date. His date seemed to notice as he asked what was going on?
                “Ex-boyfriend just walked in,” Tommy replied. His breathing had slightly deepened after Evan walked into the shop, so he suggested that they take their drinks and go for a walk.
                He couldn’t be in the same room with Evan. It was too hard to see him. He did look happy though. Walking out of the coffee shop, his date heading out before him, he glanced back hoping, while also not hoping, to catch a glimpse of Evan again. Looking right at him, his blue eyes trying to hide a sadness that he could match was Evan. God how he missed that man. He turned back around and left the coffee shop, not wanting to feel the pain that his heart was currently feeling. This was the best for the both of them.
***
                It had been three days since Tommy saw Evan at the coffee shop. Things had fizzled out again with the latest in a long line of dates he had gone on. Honestly, it was getting a little depressing for him. But he kept on trying. Maybe one day someone will click with him.
                His phone buzzed and he absently picked it up without looking to see who the message was from and opened it. His heart skipped a beat when he looked at it. It was from Evan and just said one word “Hey”.
                Tommy was freaking out a bit. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He had taken a break and wanted Evan to experience his life now. He would have done the same had he been the first for a gay man. It wasn’t fair to tie someone down into a relationship if they hadn’t fully experienced life to its fullest.
                “Hey,” Tommy replied back, “Saw you at the coffee shop a few days ago. You look good”
                Tommy stared at the screen at the Typing bubble showed up on his phone. It was agonizing waiting to hear back. One minute. Two minutes. Was he writing the next great American novel over there?
                “It was nice to see you as well,” was the reply. Eight words? It took him that long to write eight words? The typing bubble showed up again, “Can we meet up? I have some things I need to talk to you about.”
                Tommy stared at his phone. Could he do this? It had been 6 months. Surely things had settled between them enough that they could have a cordial meet up right? “I could do that. Do you know a place?”
                “Let’s get pizza for old times sake,” Evan replied. Tommy felt his heart beat a little harder in his chest, “You know the place. Did you want me to pick you up or meet you there?”
                Tommy stared at the phone. While he would have loved to go there together, he knew that he couldn’t. Not easily anyways. 6 months they had been apart but every thought in his mind was about Evan. He had never had a relationship with anyone, quite like the one he had with Evan. There was something about it, “I can meet you there. 8 pm? Know a day?”
                “Can we meet tonight?” Tommy’s heart fluttered in his chest. Did he dare accept?
                While his brain was overthinking every situation that could come of this, his heart took control of his hands and he typed back, “That can work. I’ll see you there.”
                “See you there,” was the reply. Tommy put his phone down and let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding. This could go so many ways. Picking up his phone again and looking at the time, Tommy had about 3 hours to get ready. The Pizza place that Buck wanted to go to wasn’t too far from where Tommy lived. Maybe a 30 minute drive. It gave him time to look his best. They may be broken up, but Tommy definitely didn’t want Evan to see him look a mess.
                He went about getting ready and he felt his heart fill with joy a little bit. He also started to have second thoughts on the breakup. Was this the best for the both of them?
***
                Tommy walked up to the entrance to the restaurant at just before 8 pm. He was trying not to hyperventilate about what was about to happen. He stopped at the door and stood for a second, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he walked in.
                He could see Evan sitting at a table off to the right of the entrance. Tommy had a little bit of a chuckle. His brain was not thinking in perfect thoughts right now, but he just loved the idea of him picking a table slightly to the right of centre when the last happy conversation they had was about the Kinsey Scale and how Tommy was a solid 6.
                He walked over and sat in the chair across from Evan, “Hey” he said. It was his general greeting for everyone.
                “Hey,” Evan looked up to him, a light of what looked like happiness hiding in his eyes, “Thank you for coming”
                “I didn’t have anything planned for tonight,” Tommy smiled but his eyes just kept taking in this man sitting in front of him. God he was beautiful, “Your text caught me by surprise though. Can’t say I was expecting it, but it was a nice surprise.”
                “Yeah, well when I saw you at the coffee shop, I knew I had to reach out,” Evan smiled and looked down at his hands, “It just took me 3 days to send that first message. I kept psyching myself out and telling myself not to and that you hated me and that you didn’t want to hear from me”
                “I could never hate you Ev…Buck,” Tommy quickly changed the name he called him. He had been thinking of his as Evan for so long that he had forgotten that friends call him Buck, “I was the one who broke it off with you. If anything, you should be hating me.”
                Tommy saw Evan deflate a bit when he changed the name he called him. But what was he supposed to do? They were broken up. And as much as Tommy wished it, they weren’t going to get back together. Tommy had messed that up already with what he said when they broke up. The best he could hope for is salvage and become friends and just watch from the outside and be supportive while Evan found someone new.
                “I could never hate you either Tommy,” He whispered. He was still looking down. Tommy reached across the table and gently put a couple fingers underneath Evans chin and lifted his head so they could look each other in the eye. Tommy was a little shocked to see the barest hint of what could only be tears in Evans eyes.
                Tommy coughed quickly, “Anyways should we order something? I want to hear all about your life since the last time we saw each other.”
                Tommy picked up his menu and used it to hide his face a bit. The tears and look of sadness on Evan’s face was going to get to him if he didn’t compose himself. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
                They eventually ordered a pizza to share and some drinks, “So the woman I saw you at the coffee shop was very pretty. Did things go well?”
                Evan was a little taken aback by that statement, “You think she’s pretty? I thought you were a 6 on the Kinsey Scale?”
                “Just because I can notice when someone is attractive doesn’t mean that I want to immediately have sex with them,” Tommy chuckled. That broke the downer mood that had been soaking the two of them since the moment he sat down. Evan chuckled as well, “Society has its standards of beauty in men, women, and anyone in between. These are drilled into us from an early age. You ask a straight man who the most attractive man to them is, and I can almost guarantee you that they will give you one of the Chrises or one of the Ryan’s”
                Evan smiled at that, “Chrises and Ryan’s?” This man was clueless sometimes. Tommy smiled at him. This man could find a substack about some 200 year old cowboy but he knew nothing about the Kinsey Scale or the Chrises and Ryans.
                “Well first you have the easy ones, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, and Chris Pratt. They have all been in Marvel movies, so everyone knows about them. Then you toss in Chris Pine, and you have the Chrises. Chris Pine is the odd one out as he hasn’t been in Marvel, and he has what some people call an Odd Attractiveness. The other Chrises are conventionally attractive,” Tommy took a sip of his drink before he continued, “Then you have the Ryan’s. Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling. Both very attractive men in their own rights and both very famous for various different reasons.”
                “I never thought of it that way,” Evan replied, “I always thought that just because you were straight or gay you didn’t really notice the other gender.”
                “Well, you have much to learn my Baby Bi,” Tommy chuckled, “You didn’t answer my question though. How did things go with the blonde at the coffee shop? Don’t think you can change the subject by claiming your naivety in things around the LGBT+ world.”
                Evan smiled and it melted Tommy’s heart, it was good to see him like this, “It went OK. We aren’t planning anything else though. Seeing you at the shop put me in a bit of a mood.”
                “I’m sorry about that,” Tommy replied, “She looked like she was your type. Well, I think. I don’t really know your type when it comes to women.”
                “I don’t really have a type when it comes to anyone really,” Evan explained, “I just find certain people attractive and decide then and there if I want to date them. She was pretty but not what I was looking for I guess.”
                “Well, that sucks,” Tommy replied, “I haven’t had much luck either. Nothing clicks I guess.”
                “Its hard to find something like what we had,” Evan replied. He sounded sad again. Tommy didn’t know how to make him happy again right now, so he just took a bite of his pizza on his plate.
                They ate in silence, Tommy sneaking glances at Evan, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He thinks he got caught at least once and quickly started looking off into the restaurant, trying to hide what he was doing. This was truly one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen. He was a fool for letting this go.
                After they finished their pizza, it was time for dessert. Evan ordered a tiramisu, and Tommy ordered his usual Spumoni. What could he say, it was his favorite. And when you know you like something, you always go back to it.
                While Tommy was thinking to himself, he caught sight of a spoon reaching across the table and taking a piece out of his dessert, “Hey!”
                Evan smiled as he placed the frozen dessert into his mouth. Tommy smiled a little. Picking up his spoon, Tommy reached across and took a scoop of Evans dessert. He got an indignant little squeak from Evan over that as he raised it to his mouth, “All’s fair in love and war Evan.”
                Tommy watched as Evan’s smile grew wider as he heard his name spoken out loud. Tommy didn’t realize that it was going to happen. He smiled a bit before taking the bite of Buck’s dessert.
                They back and forth stole each other’s desserts until there was nothing left on the plate, and they were giggling like two school boys who had seen something naughty, “I miss this,” Evan said with a sigh, “I miss you.”
                Tommy stopped giggling and looked directly at Evan. Had he heard what he thought he heard?
                “I miss seeing you come home after work, covered in soot. I miss standing in the kitchen cooking us dinner, you coming up behind me just to hold me. I miss waking up in your arms,” Evan continued, “I miss us.”
                “Evan,” Tommy tried to get him to stop. This was hurting him too much, but Evan lifted up a hand.
                “Let me finish,” Evan continued to talk, “We came here to talk about life so let me finish and then you can have your say,” He put his hand down and took a breath, “Over the past 6 months I admit that I did try dating new people. Men, women, I think I went out with a non-binary person once as well. And each and every one of those ended the same. Me alone in my loft. They always ended up the same because of one thing. They weren’t you. None of them were you. It took me a while to fully understand what happened between us.
                Tommy stared at Evan as he spoke. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he tried to stop them, but they just started to fall down his cheeks. He hadn’t wanted this. He just wanted to talk to Evan again. To be a part of his life again.
                “I realize now that I wanted the future with the idea I had of you. I wanted the idea I had of you move in with me in my Loft, which lets face it, was a ridiculous thing to say at the time,” Tommy noticed that Evan was essentially talking to his hands as they wrung a napkin in his hands, “And it took me talking to Maddie, Eddie, Josh, and basically everyone in the 118 to realize what I did to you. And to understand why you did what you did. You were scared. You were scared of being hurt and I understand that now. You didn’t want to be hurt so you hurt yourself and me in the process.”
                The tears were steadily going down Tommy’s cheeks at this point. He wasn’t a super emotional person. He worked in a life or death job. He saw people die all the time. He could compartmentalize everything. But right now, he was failing at that.
                “I tried to hate you at the start of it,” Evan still hadn’t looked up. Why wouldn’t he look at Tommy, “I tried really hard. But I couldn’t. You had just broken my heart, and I couldn’t hate you. It wasn’t until a month in when I was visiting Maddie at work, and the wise gay sage that is Josh was there and he gave me some words of wisdom, ‘You jumped ahead too far. You are currently seeing a future with who you think Tommy is. Not who Tommy actually is. And until you figure out which one you want to have a future with, you need to sit back and think about what it is you truly want. Do you want the idea of Tommy that you have? This unattainable statuesque Greek God of a man. Or do you want Tommy, the man who was engaged to a woman for 2 years, who had to survive the military at the height of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. Tommy who is scarred beyond what you can see. And when you decide which, it is that you want, well the universe will bring you what you need.’ And then he just made a dramatic exit from the room.”
                Tommy chuckled a little while the tears kept flowing. He kept looking towards Evan, “Now I know that it was you who broke things off with me, in a not very classy fashion by the way,” Evan finally looked up from the napkin he had basically shredded into tiny pieces during his speech, “But I wanted to see if maybe, you wanted to try again? Try being together? It took me awhile to realize that I wanted the Tommy with all the scars that I never got a chance to learn about. The visible and invisible ones. You don’t need to answer right away. I can give you time to think about it. But I know that it is you that I want. You that I need in my life. You that I see a future with.”
                Tommy stood up, his eyes blurry at this point, walked around the table towards Evan, leaned down, placed his hand gently on Evan’s chin, and kissed him with as much love and passion as he could muster. He didn’t want this to stop. He couldn’t let this stop. Of course he wanted Evan back.
                The kiss ended and they were both breathless. The noise of the restaurant hadn’t died down so hopefully nobody was staring at their very obvious display, “Should I take that as a yes?” Evan was breathless and Tommy was as well. He nodded his head vigorously.
                Evan’s smile became the widest that Tommy had ever seen. He didn’t know how to take that. Evan grabbed him and pulled him in close, nuzzling his head into the crook of Tommy’s neck, “We should probably pay the bill and go I guess,” Tommy said eventually, enjoying holding Evan again. It had been too long, and he missed the gentle breathing.
                Tommy reluctantly let Evan go so they could pay their bill and head out, “House or Loft?” Evan asked as they walked out the door.
                “Huh?” Tommy was confused.
                “House or loft? If you think I’m going to spend tonight alone, you have another thing coming. So will we spend the night at the house or loft?” Evan explained.
                Tommy smiled, realizing that this was all his again. This perfect man, with his substacks, his belief in curses and his random spirals into insanity. This was all his again. Walking towards his truck, Tommy smiled and said, “House,” before getting in, “Though we’ll need to stop by your loft to grab some items for you for the morning after.”
                Tommy watched as Evan smiled. That smile always made him melt. Before he had met Evan, he was reserved. He had slowly started to come out of his shell a bit. To be more of the man that Evan had seen he could be. He still had worked to do before he was that person. But with Evan by his side, maybe he could be that person. Maybe the idea of Tommy that Evan had in the past could be the Tommy he gets in the future. Only time would tell at least.
Sitting on the drivers side of his truck, Evan on the passengers side, Tommy shifted his truck into gear and backed out of his parking stall. He felt a hand over top of his on the gear shift and smiled. This. This was what was best for the both of them.
***
And that's the end of that. Thank you all for reading. I wrote this because S8xE06 really irked me so I wanted to fix it somehow. Let me know what you think.
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may3505noods · 2 days ago
Note
I wanna kidnap you when you’re walking home all alone. Tie you up with rope and throw you in the back of my car.
You’ll wake up many many hours later, tied to my bed and feeling all weird and sore in between your legs. Slowly you’ll understand, when I walk back in with my cock fully erect for you, that the warmth between your legs is the first of many, many loads I’m gonna force into your sweet little cunnie.
I’ll slap your face with my thick cock and tell you ‘feeding time’ as I force my cock into your mouth. I’ll hold your hair and you’ll cry around my cock as it violates your throat. I moan as I feel your tongue and throat is so warm and wet for me and I tell you that I’m sorry that I had to abduct you but you just looked so sexy. So slutty. Your little body was too tempting not to pick up and abduct.
I’ll keep forcing my cock into your throat and your tears will mix with your mascara, making you an absolute mess. I’ll slap your face with my hand while you suck my dick and then I’ll pull out of your mouth and rub that spit and drool all over your face. I’ll make sure you look like a fucking mess and I’ll lean in and say ‘that’s what a good dirty fucktoy looks like…’
I take off your clothes as you struggle, uselessly, against me & keep trying to push me off. So I slap you really hard on the side of your head and tell you to stop resisting or I’ll get really angry this time.
There’s a bark to my voice that makes your little cunt start to leak and I notice it, mocking you for being such a filthy slut who loves pain. I slap you hard again and tell you that I’m sorry but you’ll never know freedom again, you’re now my cocksocket forever. Once I strip you down completely, I push your legs back and slap my cock on your cunt, it’s gushing wet from all the abuse but you whimper ‘no, please don’t… please stop I beg of you please…’ but I don’t listen. I slap my cock on your entrance once more and thrust into you and your dumb mouth betrays you, as you moan loud when I slam into you all the way.
I choke you until you can barely breathe as I keep ramming into your dumb cunt, whispering about how you had to be such a tease, had to get me all worked up and want to put you in your place and abuse and use you.
So that’s exactly what I’m doing now, I’m using your holes and abusing you and you’re moaning for it. Look at you, enjoying being helpless. I could untie your restraints and you wouldn’t even dare to resist or run would you? Because you have always wanted this. You’ve always wanted to be kidnapped and taken by an older man. Here I am, you little slut. The man of your dirty wet dreams, forcefully fucking you. Feeling your cunt clench and unclench on my thick cock I know you’re gonna cum soon.
So cum, cum all over this thick cock. Lose your mind and your fake sense of entitlement. You are now nothing but a toy. Someone to take load after hot load of cum and live with me forever. You’ll never know freedom again, you’ll never want to hang with your family or friends again. I’ll let you go from here and you might attend school and graduate, but every day, you will come back to me. To cum for me. To cum on my cock like my good little cocksocket. Like a dumb little cock starved fuckpet. That’s because you know where you belong. You belong in service to a man who knows how to use and abuse you.
You’re just a set of holes to be filled, and nothing else. Another good girl broken by my cock. Another good girl, lost to her fantasies of an older man. Another good girl, used and ripped apart. Another good girl, cumming on her abuser’s thick cock as he pushes his load deep into your cunt, flooding you with his swimmers.
- ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Tried edging to this but I almost came a few time, the fantasy of being kidnapped and used as someone's personal cocksleeve is so hot like I'm trying to form words rn but my mind is blank and my pussy is so wettt
That's 4
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t-folklore13 · 3 days ago
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Always - Eddie Munson
18+ MDNI
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~
I run up to his trailer and bang on the door “EDDIE” I continue to bang on the door as I hear footsteps behind me “EDDIE PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR” I can hear shuffling inside and trailer and him running “EDDIE HELP ME HES GETTING CLOSER” the door finally yanks open and I feel two strong arms pull me into the trailer, the door slamming behind me
“He’s coming Eddie and I think he grabbed a weapon” he instantly know who I’m talking about and we start rushing to his room “COME OUT HERE YOU SLUT OR DONT COME HOME AT ALL ILL BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN AND KILL YOU”
I grab onto Eddie harder and try to block him out “cover your ears sweetheart” I can faintly hear him yelling out to my father telling him that he’s called the police and to leave we give it a few minutes and know he’s gone
I start to cry and we fall to the ground, he starts rocking me back and fourth “shhh I’ve got you sweetheart he’s not gonna get you your safe with me” I dig my face into him deeper and try to calm down “do you wanna tell me what happened or do you want to eat something”
I look up at him and take a deep breath “I can tell you if that’s okay” he smooths my hair and kisses my forehead “you really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” I take a deep breath and look at him
“I had to work another shift after the one I was scheduled for it because I need to money I thought it would be fine but when I got home I could smell alcohol and the door slammed behind me, my dad was there saying that I was at a guys house and that I was a slut who won’t amount to anything, he grabbed my arm and started to drag me across the room but dropped his bottle and let go of me to grab it when it cut him I took that opportunity to run” I look up and can see tears forming in his eyes
“When I got out of the house I heard his safe open and knew he would try to hurt me so I ran here because you were so close and I knew you would keep me safe but I’m sorry I’m so so sorry I dragged you into this” he grabs my face and shakes his head
“I don’t care about all that stuff sweetheart I only care about you are you okay did he hurt you?” I see his eyes searching me for injury, I shake my head and grab his hand “I’m okay it’s just that my wrist is a little sore and I’m kinda hungry”
“Let’s stand up and fix that okay?” I nod my head and slowly stand up grabbing his arm and he keeps me steady directing me to the kitchen
I zone out for a second while he grabs something and suddenly he’s standing right in front of me
“Here’s your ice once it starts to feel better you wanna wash up?” I nod my head, he grabs my upper arm to not hurt my wrist and puts the ice on it softly I wince so he starts to run circles on my arm “that feels good” he smiles and looks at me “yeah?” I hug him taking in his scent
“Thank you I would take you up on that shower but I haven’t any clothes” he grabs my hand and leads me to the bathroom “you just use some of mine it’s okay” he messes with the water till he finds it good and smiles at me
“You go ahead and shower the stuff you can use is right there, I will leave some clothes on the sink” I smile and hug him again “could you order pizza I can pay” I can feel him shake his head “don’t worry about it” he smiles and turns around closing the door
I start to shower and the water feels perfect the heat hits me and I can feel myself relax, I sit there for a while and look around for what soaps he has I grab the shampoo and it smells just like him I put a bit in my hair and wash my hair imagining it was him helping me
I move on to body wash and I smell entirely like him it’s comforting and I take it all in
I turn off the shower and use his mousse to tame my hair when I think about how this feels so normal, almost too normal but he’s my bestfriend he could never see me that way, I look to my right and see the clothes he’s set out for me
One of his dio shirts and a pair of sweats and at the bottom is a pair of his boxers I slip everything on and it’s like he’s in the room I open the door and he’s on the couch staring at the door intensely when he hears me he relaxes and heads towards me “hey sweetheart do you feel better?”
“Much, thank you” I smile and he looks at the clock “pizza should be here soon do you want to watch a movie in my room or here” I look at him and the door “can we watch it in your room”
“Of course” a knock comes from the door and I flinch we both still and stare at it “pizza” I let out a breath, Eddie looks less tense “imma go get that you go get comfortable” I smile and walk to the room sitting on the bed looking around
He walks in with the pizza and some drinks setting it down “thank you Eddie so much I can never repay you” he reaches for my hair and I involuntarily flinch I can see the pain in his face and he rushes across the room “I’m so sorry I’m sorry I didnt mean to scare you I wasn’t gonna hurt you” he sits on the ground “I’m not my dad”
I rush up and sit next to him “no no I’m not scared of you it was reflex, I know you would never hurt me” I crawl into his lap and he relaxes “I’m sorry it’s just everyone tells me I’m gonna end up like my dad and when I saw how scared you were I panicked I thought I was”
“It’s just reflex im not scared of you I promise promise” I kiss his head and have us stand up “look we are both vulnerable right now so let’s just eat and watch a movie okay?”
“I should be comforting you not the other way around” I shake my head and grab the pizza “eat up okay we are fine everything is fine let’s watch the movie” he sits next to me and I turn on Nightmare on Elm street
For the next thirty minuets we laugh at the graphics and he calms down after a while but I start to fall asleep, when I wake I feel around for Eddie and shoot up when I can’t feel him “Eddie?” It comes out as a whisper in my tired state and I look around “Eddie…Ed’s where are you” he rushes in and I let out a loud sigh
“You were gone where did you go” he stays where he is and looks at me “I went to go clean up I was gonna stay in the living room tonight”
“Can you stay with me please” he looks around and nods walking over and laying down “always” I relax and quickly fall asleep
~
I feel the heat of the room hit me and I wake up i try to shift but feel something holding me in place, correction Eddie is holding me in place and when I run my hand up his chest oh my gosh he isn’t wearing a shirt I mean yeah it’s hot but wow he’s hot, I have my head in his chest and smile I’m cuddling with my bestfriend in his bed while he’s shirtless
I start to trace his face to make sure he’s asleep and smile when he doesn’t wake I then trace his tattoos on his chest I look up at him double checking he’s asleep and leave small kisses on his tattoos and collarbones
He is so kissable I wish every morning could be like this, I lay back down holding him tight again and listen to his steady breathing as well as his heart after a while I feel as if I should make breakfast and slowly start getting up
As soon as I move his arms tighten around me and holds me closer “where do you think your going sweetheart?” I freeze and look him in the eyes “I was um going to make you and Wayne breakfast a thank you for your hospitality” he grumbles and moves us over
“Mmhm no your staying right here” I laugh and try getting up but he’s staying true to his word “eddddieee please let do this” he huffs and burys his face in my hair “five more minutes of holding you than I’ll think about it”
“Okay deal but after I’m making French toast” he sighs and lets out a sound of contentment holding me closer “I love you” I smile and hold onto him trying not to look into it too closely “I love you” I feel him playing with my hair and tickling my ears when the door swings open
“Hey boy I’m gonna go over to-“ we snap our heads over to Wayne and he looks at us suspiciously looking at me than eddies bare chest “oh um sorry” he slams the door and we start laughing “he’s acting like we just make a mini Munson”
“The look on his face was so hilarious but you should probably go clear that up Ed’s” he laughs and hugs me hard one last time before I move off of him and he gets up grabbing his shirt on the way out
“I still expect breakfast” I laugh and he closes the door
I lay in his bed and can feel him all around me “I love Eddie Munson so much” I smile and get up walking into the kitchen “hey Ed’s are you gonna help?” He grabs some stuff out the fridge and looks at me “of course darlin why not” I grab the pan from him and laugh
“Because the probability of you burning something is very high” he glares at me and scowls “hey I’ve only burned things a few times” rolling my eyes as I mix the eggs with creamer and giggle
After two stacks of food and a huge mess we are finally done and start to eat when he looks at me seriously “so are we gonna talk about what happens after this?” I look at him and look back down “what do you mean I’m gonna go home like always”
He slams his fork on his plate “like hell you are I’m not letting you go back there” I look down sadly knowing he’s right “Ed’s I have to or he’s just gonna be more mad” he gets up walking over to me and turns my chair “please sweets don’t”
I place a hand on his face and sigh deeply “what if he says I ran away or something involving the police?” He starts to grab my hands and brings them to his forehead “you turned eighteen two months ago you can do whatever you want we can just get your clothes when he’s not there and you can live here”
“What if I want to go back” he stands up taking his hands away from mine and backs up “you wanna go back there? he’s gonna hurt you or worse and I can’t” I stand up and he looks at me “please let’s just do it my way”
“Why?” He looks at me like I asked him to solve world peace and scoffs “why? He’s gonna fucking kill you and I can’t live without you” I look out the window and stop protesting he falls to his knees and hugs my waist “please baby I’m begging you stay I can’t let you get hurt do you know how much I wanted to kill him for hurting you”
“But why? Because we’re bestfriends?” he stands up again and walks away “because im in love you I cannot let the women I love get hurt no fucking way” my voice gets stuck in my throat “You love me?”
He rushes over to me “so fucking much” he kisses me really kisses me not a little peck or anything simple he kisses me like he needs it pouring out all his emotions in the kiss, it’s sloppy and messy but perfect all at the same time
“I love you too, I’m in love with you” he grabs my chin and looks at me “so your not going back right” and shake my head and kiss him “I’ll never go back again I promise”
“You taste sweet” he kisses me smiling into the kiss and I never want to stop “will you stay with me?”
“Always”
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nvtstvrns · 1 hour ago
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Prettied Up - Chris Sturniolo
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Smut, dom!chris, sub!fem
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Summary: you and Chris are getting ready to go to dinner with Nick and Matt when he sees you doing your makeup in the mirror, he decides to eat you out while you do your makeup.
Contains: smut, sub!fem, dom!chris, oral (fem!receiver), almost getting caught, pet names (ma, pretty girl, etc)
Authors note: I am so sorry I put this story off for so long, here it is 😭
Divider Credits: @bernardsbendystraws @adornedwithlight and @cafekitsune
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Chris and I were getting ready for dinner with Nick, Matt, Mikayla and Nate, we were in Boston for a few weeks and we wanted to get together with our old friends. I was standing at the mirror starting my makeup, Chris was in the shower.
“Ma, can you hand me that towel, please?” He asks me his finger pointing through the shower curtain. I walk over to the towel and I hand it to him. I quickly go back to doing my makeup, we only had twenty minutes left before we had to leave.
Chris comes behind me and wraps his arms around my stomach and he lays his head on my shoulder.
“Chris, you’re getting my clothes all wet.” I say pushing him off my slightly.
“That’s not too bad though right-“ he says hugging me from behind again. This time his hands trail to my bare waist. “Clothes will dry…” he reaches up and cups my breast.
“Chris.” I warn as I watch him run his hands all over my body in the mirror. “I’m trying to do my makeup.” I say blending out my blush trying to shake off the goosebumps. I could feel myself throbbing in need and I took a deep breath.
“You gettin all prettied up f’me?” He says as he puts on his underwear and then his pants. I grin and turn around. “Chris stop making me-“
He gets closer to me and grabs my jaw. “Stop making you what?” He says in a husky voice. My knees buckled. His grip on my jaw was light and soft but it still put a huge effect on me.
I look up at him with puppy eyes and he lets me go.
“Can I make you feel good baby…give you a little reward…”
“For what?” I ask quietly.
“You deserve it…but keep gettin prettied up for me ma.”
He gets down on his knees in front of me. This was a new thing from him, it’s always me getting on my knees for him, was he really going to make me feel good with no returns at all? I feel his hands fiddle with my button on my pants and then he unzips them, pulling them down to my ankles and then pulling them all the way off. His eyes trail up to mine and he places a soft kiss to my lower abdomen.
“Keep doing your makeup don’t watch me.” He says pulling my underwear off and throwing them somewhere with my pants. He doesn’t even hesitate, his mouth quickly attaching to my clit, I let out a gasp and I hang my head back. He taps the back of my thighs telling me to continue doing my makeup, so I do, trying to line my lips with all of this pleasure is not working, so I move on to my mascara.
“Oh my-fuck Chris…” I say as my legs begin to shake, I can’t focus on just my makeup, the image of him pumping his fingers in and out of my wet pussy while his mouth abuses my clit was way too much. “I’m gonna cum, Chris! Oh my fucking god, Chris…” I say grinding my hips on his face.
“Mmm yeah grind my face ma, cum all over me.” I continue grinding my hips reaching closer and closer to my high, with a final cry my legs jerk and I cum all over his face…luckily my makeup was fully finished, it didn’t look exactly how I wanted it to, but I did my best.
“Chris! Y/n come on! We have to leave!” Matt yells, in a daze I put back on my pants and he puts on his shirt, and puts on deodorant and other things. He wraps an arm around my shoulder.
“Don’t let it affect you too much baby.” He says kissing my temple “we still have dinner to eat, and then you can have me.”
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This was a lot of fun to write, and thank you sm for all of your support lately (I recently did a face reveal) so thank you for all of your compliments on that. Thank you for reading my fanfictions and if you ever have a request just send me a silly little message.
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thezombieprostitute · 2 days ago
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The Arrangement - Part 10
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Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.
Warnings: Bad parents, Implied abuse, Implied violence. Let me know if I missed any!
Part 9 -- Part 11
Series Masterlist
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As you calm down, Jake waits until you tell him to before he lets you go. He can't imagine how much you might need this so he'll hold you for as long as you want.
You sniffle and shake your head as you gently push away from him. "I'm sorry about that," you splutter.
"No need to apologize," he assures. "It's been a really crazy couple of days. Probably a lot longer than that for you."
"I should get to work on the dishes." You try to move past him but he holds out his arm.
"I said I'd do the dishes," he reminds you. "Not only did you cook breakfast, you cooked a lot more food than you should have. The least I can do is help out with the clean up."
"You had to actually talk to them," you quietly argue. "I just sat and refilled drinks."
"You also really helped me out, reassured me when I was feeling lost," he gently countered. "Please let me do this for you?"
It takes you a minute of internal waffling before you tell him, "okay. And thank you."
As you start tearing up again Jake is quick to ask, "are you okay? What's wrong? Do you need another hug? Are you hurt?"
"I'm just...I'm just not...not used to such kindness," you confess as you wipe the tears away.
"Doing the dishes for you is more than you're used to?" You nod and Jake feels a renewed wave of anger at your family. "Would...would it help if you supervised my cleaning? Make sure I'm not cleaning your cast iron by putting it in the dishwasher?" Your eyes go wide and you gasp, but he's quick to smile and reassure you that he would never do that. "It's one of the few cleaning things I will forever know, if only because it came up in a trivia night one time."
The giggle escapes before you even knew it was forming. You slap your hand over your mouth, embarrassed but Jake's eyes are lit up. Everything in his body language tells you he's not angry or offended at your outburst, but happy about it.
"If you want me to ignore that, I will," he comments. "But I would be happy to acknowledge it!" He looks at you like an excited puppy eager for praise and you can't help but continue giggling from behind your hand. He starts shaking with excitement but he's not saying or doing anything because you haven't said if you want it acknowledged. Unfortunately that's just making your fit more uncontrollable.
You remove your hand and gasp between fits, "it's okay. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm laughing this much. I'm sorry."
Jake lightly bounces as he assures you, "it's okay! There's nothing to apologize for! Sometimes a thing just tickles your fancy. It could also be a response to all the stress you've been through. When was the last time you had a really good cry? Or a really good laugh?"
"It has been a long time," you sigh, keeping your head down as you finally get your laughing under control.
"So, would you be willing to supervise me in the kitchen?"
"That sounds nice," you nod.
"And you promise to correct me if I do something wrong? Or before I do something wrong?" You hesitate at that. "I promise I don't want to upset you. I just...we're going to be going to a lot of parties soon. I'll have no idea what I'm doing. I'm going to need your help." You look up at him, eyes a mix of emotions. "I...I get the impression you're not...you don't correct others." You lower your face in shame. "Hey, it's not...I get why. I really do! It's not a judgment, I promise!" Jake's tone becomes a little more frantic, but no less pleading, soft. "And I'm gonna need your help to not make an ass of myself at these parties. That includes correcting me or stopping me before I do something stupid. The kitchen supervision could be a good way to practice that for us?"
"That...that makes sense," you agree. "I promise to try?"
Jake smiles, "thank you so much, Sharky!"
"Sharky?"
"Sorry, I'm used to friends with nicknames," he quickly explains. "And, I figured you...you like sharks so much you literally studied them...I swear it sounded better in my head." His face looks chagrined as he rubs his hand on the back of his head.
"I...I've never really had a nickname before," you tell him. "I kinda did when I was studying, but it was definitely derogatory." Jake's eyes turn sad. "Derogatory regarding my background. No matter how much work I did, I was still called 'Princess' because of my family." You shake your head to dispel the memory. "But 'Sharky' sounds a lot nicer." You give him a soft smile that has Jake's heart fluttering.
As the dishes get loaded into the dishwasher and the others await the required handwashing, you decide to ask Jake about something that's been bothering you.
"Your father," you hesitate, knowing it's a sensitive topic. "He mentioned something about your niece?"
Jake sighs, the smile on his face dropping. "You remember my sister was engaged to Travis?"
"Of course."
"I got her out of it by, essentially, hiding her far away from here. She met someone, fell in love, and they had a daughter." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. "She's only 8 years old," he continues. "But she's super stubborn, like her mother. Smart, like her father. And she's damn good at soccer, minus some bad calls from a ref."
You smile a little at that. It's very clear he cares a lot for her.
"But my parents found out about her," he continues. "They hinted that they know where she and Sarah live and they flat out told me that, unless I agreed to marry you, to be the obedient son they always wanted, they were going to marry her off to your brother."
You gasp at that. You knew your parents were determined to solidify power and position by combining the families but you didn't think they would go so far! And to your brother, who would be twice her age upon marrying her! Your blood freezes as you think of how badly he'd hurt her.
"Hey, Sharky? You okay?"
Jake's voice breaks through the bad memories, "sorry. I just...I'm happy to help you keep her safe."
"Thank you for that."
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Part 9 -- Part 11
Series Masterlist
Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @irishhappiness
@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly
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