#a lot of angst a little bit of rock and roll | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mcrdvcks · 4 months ago

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needy pt.1

chapter summary: You're Scott's younger sister and for months you've been secretly dating Logan. How much longer can you and him keep the secret?

word count: 8.3k+ (19.3k+ total)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: don't ask how or why this is so long, it was meant to be be less than 10k words but it just kept going. i was having a lot of fun writing this, and if people want to see a continuation or some other part of the story with these two, don't be afraid to ask! for now, enjoy cause there are like 3 smut scenes

there are two parts! tumblr has a word limit so i had to split it up!

warnings/tags: smut, unprotected piv, slight exhibitionism, slight pain kink, creampie, age gap (that's obvi), oral (f!receiving), slight praise kink, fingering, secret relationship, jealously, some possessiveness, peter maximoff being a little shit, fluff, slight angst

❀ part 2 ❀

“That’s it sweetheart.” Logan drawled, his body hovering over yours while slowly thrusting into you. “Doin’ so good for me.”

Your hands clawed at his shoulders, nail indents healing immediately.

Logan let out a low, rough chuckle against your throat. "Feisty, huh?" His voice was thick with heat, lips dragging along your pulse as he thrust deeper. "Go on, doll, mark me up all you want. Ain't like it'll stick—but I like feelin' you try."

Your breath hitched, legs tightening around his waist. "Shut up and move, Logan."

His smirk was all teeth. "Bossy." But he gave you what you wanted, picking up the pace, the bed rocking under both of you.

Knock. Knock.

Your body stiffened instantly. Logan froze too, just for a second, before his head snapped toward the door.

"Y/N?"

Scott.

Your stomach flipped. Logan's grip on your hip tightened. "You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he muttered under his breath.

"Shut up," you hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth. He raised an eyebrow at you, clearly amused despite the situation.

Scott knocked again. "You in there?"

You scrambled for an excuse, trying to keep your voice normal. "Uh—yeah! What do you want?"

Logan leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Think he knows his baby sister's gettin' fucked dumb by the big bad Wolverine?"

You smacked his shoulder. "You're not helping."

Scott sighed on the other side of the door. "Jean said you weren’t in your room, and you missed training this morning. You okay?"

Shit. "Yeah! I'm fine! I just—I was asleep."

Logan stifled a laugh against your neck. "Not a total lie," he murmured, nipping at your jaw.

You shoved at his chest. "Stop it," you mouthed.

Scott hesitated. "You sure?"

Logan's hips rolled, and you barely bit back a moan. "Positive," you choked out. "Just… tired. Can we talk later?"

A pause. Then: "Alright. Just checkin'." His footsteps retreated down the hall.

Logan didn’t wait. The second Scott’s footsteps faded down the hall, he was back on you—mouth hot, breath rough, hands greedy.

"You shoulda heard yourself," he murmured, lips dragging along your jaw. "Tryin’ to sound all innocent when I got you stuffed full like this."

Your nails dug into his back again, legs still locked tight around his waist. "And whose fault is that?"

His smirk was downright filthy. "Mine. And I ain't even a little sorry."

He moved again—slow, deep thrusts that had you gasping against his shoulder. You bit down on his skin, just to keep quiet, and he groaned low in his chest. "Fuck, doll, do that again."

You did, dragging your teeth over his collarbone, then licking over the mark like an apology. His pace stuttered for half a second before he pressed you deeper into the mattress, forearm braced next to your head.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" His voice was a growl now, rough as gravel. "You're gonna be real sorry 'bout that."

And then he set a punishing rhythm—hips slamming into yours, his body pressed so tight to you that you could feel the heat of him everywhere.

You couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Every drag, every thrust had you unraveling under him, nails clawing at his arms, his back, his shoulders—anything to ground yourself.

"Logan," you gasped.

He groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Yeah, sweetheart, I know. I got you."

His breath was hot against your skin, his weight solid, grounding. But there was nothing slow or sweet about the way he moved now—his hips drove into yours with an intensity that made your nails sink even deeper into his back.

"Fuck, Logan," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, rough and dark. "S'what I like to hear," he muttered, dragging his teeth along the side of your throat. "All those little noises—only I get to hear ‘em, huh?"

Your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking just enough to make him grunt. "Maybe if you'd shut up and—oh, shit—keep going—"

Logan didn't need more encouragement. He pressed you further into the mattress, keeping you pinned beneath him, his pace relentless. Every roll of his hips sent a sharp, toe-curling heat through you, your pulse thudding loud in your ears.

Then—his mouth was at your ear again. "You still think Scott bought that bullshit excuse?"

Your stomach tightened, pleasure warring with panic. "Shut up," you hissed.

His smirk was pure sin. "Nah. Kinda fun knowin’ he was just outside while I had you like this—"

"Logan," you warned, biting back a moan.

He just hummed like the idea amused him. "Bet he'd lose his fuckin’ mind if he knew, huh? His sweet, innocent baby sister—" His hips slammed into yours, forcing out a sharp, breathless gasp. "—gettin' wrecked by the guy he hates most."

You slapped a hand over his mouth again, eyes flashing. "Do you want us to get caught?"

Logan just huffed against your palm, but his eyes burned with something darker. Amused. Possessive. A challenge.

Then, just as quickly, he shifted, dragging your hand away and pinning it above your head, his fingers laced through yours. "Nah, I like keepin’ you all to myself," he murmured against your lips before claiming them in a kiss—deep, messy, all tongue and teeth and heat.

The knock at the door had long since faded into silence, but the risk still lingered—your brother was right there, just down the hall. The thought alone made something coil tighter in your gut.

"Logan," you whispered, half warning, half plea.

"Shh," he muttered, his free hand slipping down your body, gripping tight at your waist as he drove into you again. "Just focus on me, sweetheart. Nothin’ else matters."

And for now, with his body pressing you deeper into the sheets, his breath ragged against your skin, and his hands branding you in ways that would never fade—he was right.

---

Dinner was already a disaster, and you hadn’t even sat down yet. Scott was in full big-brother mode, still eyeing you like he wasn’t convinced by your excuse from earlier. Jean had that look too—like she could hear your heart rate spike every time Scott brought it up. And Rogue? She was the worst of them all, smirking every time you so much as shifted in your seat.

“So,” Scott started, arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “You sure you’re okay?”

You grabbed a plate, keeping your expression neutral. “Yeah, Scott. Just tired. I overslept.”

Scott frowned, clearly skeptical. “You never oversleep.”

Rogue snorted into her drink. “Maybe she had a long night,” she said innocently, then flicked her gaze toward you with way too much amusement.

Your stomach dropped. You shot her a glare, but she just smirked over the rim of her cup.

“Long night doing what?” Scott asked.

Jean sighed. “Scott.”

“No, seriously. She missed training. That’s not like her.”

“Maybe she was busy,” Rogue said, taking a slow sip. “Real busy.”

You swore you were going to kill her. Right here. At the dinner table.

Scott’s frown deepened. “Doing what?”

Before Rogue could dig your grave any deeper, Logan walked in like he owned the place, rolling his shoulders and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He barely spared you a glance, but you knew he was enjoying this way too much.

“Doin’ what, Summers?” Logan popped the cap off the bottle and took a swig, looking entirely unbothered.

Scott gestured toward you. “She missed training this morning. Said she was sleeping, but she never oversleeps.”

Logan shrugged. “Guess she needed it.”

Scott narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think that’s weird?”

Logan leaned against the counter, looking unimpressed. “What’s weird is you interrogatin’ her like she committed a crime.”

Rogue let out a cough that sounded a hell of a lot like a laugh.

Jean, who had been watching the entire thing unfold, finally spoke up. “Scott, drop it. If she says she was tired, she was tired.”

Scott exhaled sharply, clearly still unconvinced but finally letting it go. “Fine.” He grabbed his plate and moved to sit down.

Logan smirked over the rim of his beer before taking another sip. You didn’t even have to look at him to know exactly what was going through his head.

As soon as Scott turned away, Rogue leaned over and muttered under her breath, “You’re lucky Jean shut him up.”

You kicked her under the table. She just grinned.

---

Later that night you were in your bedroom reading a book when someone knocked on your door. “It’s open!” you called out. You knew it wouldn’t be Logan, not when it was only 9 pm.

Rogue plopped down beside you, stretching her legs out and giving you a shit-eating grin.

"So," she drawled, nudging your shoulder. "How's your nap?"

You groaned, already regretting not locking your door. "Not you too."

"Oh, especially me," she said, grinning. "C'mon, sugar, I deserve some details after helpin’ cover your ass at dinner."

You shot her a glare. "You almost got me caught."

"Please," she scoffed. "Scott's dense as hell when it comes to you. If Jean weren’t there, he’d still be tryin’ to figure out what was ‘off’ about you today." She smirked. "Meanwhile, I know exactly what was off."

You grabbed a pillow and smacked her with it. Rogue just laughed. "Hey, I ain't judgin’! I just think it’s funny how not subtle you two are."

You gave her a look. "We are subtle."

"Uh-huh. Sure," she said, rolling her eyes. "So subtle that I had to watch Logan barely contain his smug-ass smirk at dinner. You realize you got played, right? Scott started pushin’, and Logan shut it down in, like, two sentences."

You frowned. "That wasn’t playing me—that was helping me."

Rogue snorted. "Girl, Logan lives for this. He’s gettin’ off on the fact that he’s sneakin’ around with Scott Summers' baby sister."

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You hated that she was probably right.

Rogue grinned. "Bet he’s got a real nice ego boost right now."

You sighed, flopping back against your pillows. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," she said cheerfully. "But you do love makin’ bad decisions."

"Logan is not a bad decision." She raised an eyebrow. You crossed your arms. "He’s not."

Rogue just smirked. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, sugar."

You groaned. "Are you done?"

"Not even close," she said, kicking her feet up on your bed. "But I’ll give you a break—for now."

"Gee, thanks."

She chuckled, then eyed you for a moment before her smirk softened just a little. "You really like him, huh?"

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. I do."

Rogue nodded, like she already knew. "Then I guess I’ll keep coverin’ for you."

You smiled. "Thanks."

"Don’t thank me yet," she said, grinning. "If you two do get caught, I wanna be front row for Scott’s meltdown."

---

A few nights later, you barely made it two steps into your room before a rough hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside. The door shut behind you with a quiet click.

“Jesus—Logan!” You turned, ready to shove him off, but the moment you saw the look in his eyes, your stomach flipped.

His hands were already on your waist, pushing you back until your spine hit the door. His body was flush against yours, heat radiating from him.

“You’ve been drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy all day,” he muttered, voice low, rough. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place like he needed to. “Sittin’ across from me at dinner, actin’ all innocent, while I’m still thinkin’ ‘bout the way you came on my cock the other night.”

Your breath hitched, pulse spiking. “Logan—”

“Could barely keep my hands to myself,” he murmured, lips brushing your jaw, your throat. “You think Scott noticed how damn quiet I was?”

You swallowed hard, hands clutching at his arms. “You were quiet?”

Logan chuckled against your skin. “See? You weren’t payin’ attention either.” He pressed closer, one thigh slotting between yours, and you felt him—hot, hard, ready.

“Logan,” you breathed, your fingers twisting in his shirt.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” His lips brushed your ear, teasing. “Tell me what you want.”

A sharp knock made you both freeze. Again? Your stomach dropped as Logan exhaled sharply, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Y/N?” Scott’s voice.

You shut your eyes, biting back a groan. Logan’s forehead dropped against your shoulder, his whole body tense.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he whispered.

You shoved at his chest, mouthing move. He just smirked, staying right where he was.

Scott knocked again. “You in there?”

Logan's smirk widened, eyes gleaming with something smug. You cleared your throat, forcing your voice to sound normal. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Open up.”

Panic shot through you. Logan just raised an eyebrow, amused. You shoved at his chest harder, whispering, “hide.”

He grinned. “No.”

Your glare was sharp. “Logan.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes before finally stepping back. “Fine.” He moved toward your closet, muttering, “This is fuckin’ humiliatin’,” under his breath.

You didn’t have time to argue. The moment he was out of sight, you exhaled hard and cracked the door open.

Scott frowned down at you. “Why’d that take so long?”

You forced a casual shrug. “I was getting ready for bed.”

Scott squinted at you, then looked over your shoulder, like he expected to find some kind of evidence of your lies. “You sure?”

Your heart pounded. “Yes, Scott,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Why are you here?”

Scott still looked unconvinced, but finally said, “I wanted to see if you wanted to train in the morning. Just us.”

You blinked. “Uh… sure?”

“Cool. Early morning session. Don’t be late.” He gave you another suspicious look before stepping back. “Night, Y/N.”

You gave him the fakest smile you could muster. “Night.”

The second the door shut, Logan was out of the closet, shaking his head. “You owe me for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, poor you. Hiding for thirty seconds.”

He stepped close again, hands sliding back onto your waist. “Not the hidin’ part that pissed me off,” he muttered, pressing his mouth to your throat. “It’s the part where I didn’t get to finish what I started.”

Heat curled in your stomach. “Then finish it,” you whispered.

Logan’s grip tightened, fingers digging into your waist as he pressed you back against the door, his body flush against yours. Heat radiated off him in waves, thick and consuming.

"Thought you'd never ask," he murmured, his voice all gravel and dark amusement. His lips traced a slow path along your jaw before dragging down to your throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, desperate to hold onto something as his hands moved—one sliding up your side, under your shirt, rough fingers splaying against bare skin. You sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed his thigh between yours, the pressure making your head spin.

"Logan—"

"You were teasin' me all damn day," he muttered against your skin. "All wide eyes and sweet little smiles like you weren’t sittin’ there with my fuckin’ marks still on you."

Your breath hitched. His teeth caught on the spot where your shoulder met your neck, biting just enough to make you gasp. "Not my fault you left them," you whispered, your own hands slipping under his shirt, tracing over the hard muscle of his stomach.

Logan chuckled—low, dangerous. "Oh, it was on purpose, sweetheart. Wanted you rememberin' exactly where my mouth was."

His lips skimmed your jaw, his stubble scraping your skin as he worked his way lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat. His hands were firm, fingers digging into your waist, holding you against him like he needed you there.

"You should've finished before Scott interrupted," you muttered, breathless, trying to keep some semblance of control.

Logan chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart, you really think I’m the kinda guy to rush this?" His teeth scraped over the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. "Nah. You started this game, now you gotta deal with the consequences."

His hands moved—one slipping beneath your shirt, fingers splaying across your ribs, rough and warm. The other slid lower, down the curve of your hip, before gripping the back of your thigh and hauling it up against his side. The movement sent you pressing closer, heat meeting heat, and you gasped.

"You feel that?" His voice was a low growl. "Been hard all damn day because of you."

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him even closer. "Then do something about it."

His smirk was pure arrogance. "Oh, you got some fire tonight, huh?" His hand on your thigh tightened, his other sliding higher beneath your shirt, grazing the underside of your breast. "I like that."

Before you could snap back, he kissed you—hard. No hesitation, no teasing. His lips crashed against yours, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like he was claiming you, like he'd been waiting for this all day. And maybe he had.

Your back hit the door harder as he pressed into you, deepening the kiss, swallowing the quiet moan that slipped from your throat. His hands were everywhere—roaming, gripping, pulling.

Then, with no warning, he lifted you. You gasped against his lips, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he turned, carrying you toward the bed like you weighed nothing.

"You just gonna manhandle me now?" you teased, breathless.

Logan smirked, dropping you onto the mattress with a bounce. "Damn right I am."

Before you could recover, he was on you—hands braced on either side of your head, knee pressing between your thighs. His lips were back on yours, insistent, hungry. He kissed like he fought—relentless, determined, and utterly in control.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and the growl he let out sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, dragging it up, his knuckles grazing heated skin as he peeled it over your head. The second it was gone, his mouth was everywhere—kissing, nipping, sucking at the newly exposed skin like he had something to prove.

"Logan—" Your voice hitched as his teeth scraped over your collarbone.

"Shh," he murmured against your skin, lips moving lower. "Let me enjoy this."

His hands found the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with far too much ease, his lips still moving, still teasing. You barely had time to process the cool air against your skin before his hands were on your thighs, spreading you open.

He looked up at you, eyes dark, heated, hungry. "You are gonna be real quiet for me, right?" His voice was nothing but rough gravel and amusement. "Wouldn't want your brother to come knockin' again."

You should've had a smart-ass response ready, but the moment his mouth was on you, your brain short-circuited. A sharp gasp tore from your throat as his tongue dragged slow and deliberate, a teasing flick before he sealed his lips around you and sucked. Your fingers shot to his hair, tangling in the thick mess, your back arching off the bed before you even realized it.

"Logan—"

He growled against you, the vibration sending a shock straight through your system. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"Quiet, sweetheart," he murmured, dragging his mouth away just enough to speak. His lips were slick, his voice dark with amusement.

You clenched your jaw, the reminder making your face burn—but not enough to stop you from tugging his hair, shoving him back down where he belonged. Logan chuckled, but didn’t argue.

He buried himself between your thighs again, tongue pressing, curling, teasing. Every flick sent heat pooling deep in your stomach, every slow, deliberate movement dragging you higher and higher, the tension coiling tight.

Your breathing turned uneven, fingers clutching at the sheets. "Logan," you gasped, your thighs threatening to clamp shut.

He didn’t let you. His hands flexed, holding you open as he devoured you, his pace slow and maddening, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"You’re close," he muttered, voice muffled against your skin. He pressed a kiss right where you needed him most, almost gentle. "I can feel it."

You bit down hard on your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of begging. But Logan had other plans. He sucked, hard and sudden, and your whole body jerked.

A sharp cry broke from your throat, your hands flying to muffle yourself as heat crashed through you. The tension snapped, pleasure rolling through you in shuddering waves, your body trembling beneath his hold.

He groaned against you, like he was savoring every second, like he lived for this.

Only when you finally slumped back against the sheets, breathless and spent, did he pull away, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth.

"Sweetheart," he muttered, his voice thick with heat and satisfaction. "You taste so fuckin’ sweet when you come for me."

Your face burned, but you still shot him a glare. "Cocky."

Logan smirked. "Damn right."

Then he was on you again, lips crashing against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His body pressed flush against yours, his jeans rough against your bare skin, and—

Yeah. He was still hard as hell.

"You got yours," you murmured against his mouth, reaching between you. "Now let me return the favor."

His breath stuttered as your fingers brushed against the hard length straining behind his zipper, but before you could do anything else, his hand caught your wrist.

"Not yet." His voice was rough, strained. "I need to be inside you first."

Your stomach flipped. He reached down, making quick work of his belt, his jeans, shoving them down just enough. You caught the briefest glimpse of him before he was lining himself up, the heat of him pressing against you.

"Fuck," he groaned as he pushed inside, slow, stretching you open inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt.

Your mouth parted, a soft, breathless moan slipping free at the feeling of him—full, deep, overwhelming in the best way.

Logan shuddered. "You feel so fuckin’ good, doll," he rasped against your ear.

Then he moved. A slow, deliberate pull before thrusting back in, setting a steady, deep rhythm. Every movement sent sparks through your system, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your breath coming in soft gasps.

Logan groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder. "Fuckin’ hell, I missed this."

You clung to him, your body tightening around him in response. His pace faltered for half a second before he growled—and snapped his hips into you. A sharp cry tore from your throat, and Logan grinned. "That’s what I thought."

Then he really started moving. Deep, rough thrusts, dragging you higher and higher, your nails raking down his back as pleasure coiled tight again, building faster this time.

"Logan—"

"I got you," he muttered, voice wrecked. "Come on, sweetheart, let go for me."

You did. The pleasure crashed through you, your body trembling as you came around him, his name falling from your lips in a breathless moan.

Logan groaned, his thrusts turning erratic before he buried himself deep, his whole body tensing as he followed you over the edge.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, just tangled together, catching your breath.

"You’re heavy," you muttered, pushing weakly at his chest.

Logan huffed a laugh but finally rolled onto his side, dragging you with him.

"You love it," he muttered, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

You snorted. "You wish."

He just grinned, pulling you closer.

---

You and Logan rarely have date nights. It was hard to find a quiet, empty space in the mansion that you knew no one was going to go into.

Let alone Scott letting you go out at night, even if you were 25.

But, tonight, you had a way around that. Rogue had already gone out with Bobby to the carnival that was in town which gave you a perfect excuse to leave the mansion.

You walked to the front door and barely put your hand on the doorknob when Scott’s voice rang out.

"Where do you think you're going?"

You froze, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral before turning around. "Carnival. Rogue and Bobby already went, so I figured I’d go check it out."

Scott crossed his arms, eyeing you suspiciously. "Since when do you like carnivals?"

You shrugged. "Since now." Scott frowned like he was trying to figure out what was off. You didn’t give him a chance to ask more questions. "You gonna let me go, or are we really about to have a whole interrogation over funnel cakes and rigged games?"

Before Scott could answer, Logan came strolling down the hallway, clearly on his way somewhere—until Scott turned to him.

"Logan, drive her."

Logan blinked. "What?"

Scott gestured toward you. "She’s going to the carnival. Drive her."

Your stomach flipped. You had to fight to keep the surprise off your face. This was perfect.

Logan’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the slight twitch of amusement in his eyes. "Why?"

Scott gave Logan a flat look. "Because I don’t want her going alone."

"I can handle myself," you said quickly.

Scott ignored you, still looking at Logan. "Just drop her off and make sure she actually goes inside. Then pick her up when she’s ready to leave."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I’m twenty-five, Scott. Not fifteen."

"And yet, you’re still my little sister," he shot back.

Logan sighed like this whole conversation was exhausting. "Fine. C’mon, kid," he said, jerking his head toward the door.

You clenched your jaw at the nickname, knowing exactly why he used it in front of Scott. But you didn’t argue. Instead, you grabbed your jacket and walked past them, ignoring the smug look Scott gave you like he’d just ensured your safety for the night.

The second you and Logan stepped outside, he let out a low chuckle. "Well, ain’t this convenient?"

You shot him a look. "Don’t be smug."

"Too late."

---

The drive was quiet at first, just the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of Logan shifting gears. You knew Scott had probably expected Logan to drop you off, watch you go inside, then leave. But instead, Logan was taking the scenic route, driving further away from the carnival.

"You know, if Scott ever finds out about us, he’s gonna kill you," you said, watching the streetlights blur past.

Logan smirked, eyes still on the road. "Nah. He’s gonna try."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading in your chest betrayed you.

After a few minutes, Logan pulled into a small lot near a bar you both knew was usually quiet on weekdays. He killed the engine and turned to you. "So, what’s the plan, doll? We head in, grab a drink, then pretend you spent the whole night winnin’ stuffed animals?"

You smirked. "Something like that."

Logan leaned in slightly, eyes darkening. "Or… we could skip the drinks and find somethin’ else to do."

Your breath hitched, heart pounding. "Temptin’."

His smirk widened, but he didn’t push. Instead, he just reached for his door handle. "C’mon, let’s make this date look real."

You followed him inside, the warmth of the bar a stark contrast to the cool night air. It wasn’t crowded—just a few regulars, a couple playing pool in the corner, and a bartender who barely looked up as you both walked in.

Logan led you to a booth near the back, out of the way, and slid in across from you.

"So," he drawled, resting his arms on the table, "you gonna let me win you a giant teddy bear later?"

You snorted. "You? Win a carnival game? Please."

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "You doubtin’ me, sweetheart?"

You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile on your lips. "I’m just saying… those games take skill. Precision. A soft touch. You’re more of a… smash things and ask questions later kind of guy."

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. "You got a real smart mouth, you know that?"

"Yeah, and you love it."

He smirked. "Damn right I do."

The bartender came by, and you both ordered drinks. Logan, of course, got whiskey. You opted for something lighter. As soon as the bartender walked away, Logan reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, slow and deliberate.

"Been wantin’ to do that all day," he muttered.

Your heart flipped. You curled your fingers around Logan’s, warmth spreading from the simple touch. He never did this at the mansion—not where anyone could see. But here, away from prying eyes, he was different.

"Yeah?" you murmured, teasing, but your voice was softer than you intended.

Logan’s thumb traced lazy circles against your skin. "Yeah." His eyes flicked up, locking onto yours, something unreadable in them. "Kinda hate sneakin’ around all the time."

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the weight behind his words. "I know."

He didn’t push, didn’t say anything else—just held your hand, like that was enough for now. And maybe it was.

The bartender dropped off your drinks, barely sparing either of you a glance. Logan finally let go, but not before giving your fingers one last squeeze.

You picked up your drink, taking a sip. "So, you actually gonna win me that teddy bear later, or were you just talking shit?"

Logan smirked, reaching for his whiskey. "Sweetheart, I ain’t losin’ to a rigged game."

"You sound awfully confident for someone who doesn’t exactly scream ‘hand-eye coordination.’"

Logan huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"You’re the one dating me."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, but the smirk tugging at his lips said he didn’t mind one bit.

The two of you sat there, drinking, talking, stealing quick touches when no one was looking. It felt easy—like it was supposed to be like this all the time.

You didn’t know how long you stayed, but eventually, Logan leaned back in the booth, stretching his arms across the seat. "Time to make this date look real."

You raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning we go to the damn carnival, you let me win somethin’, and we make sure Summers doesn’t think you were out doin’ somethin’ reckless."

You smirked. "Technically, I am."

Logan snorted, throwing some cash on the table before standing up. "C’mon, trouble. Let’s get you a prize."

---

The carnival was packed, neon lights casting everything in a bright, chaotic glow. The scent of fried food, sugar, and asphalt filled the air, mixing with the hum of laughter and the occasional shriek from a nearby ride.

You walked beside Logan, your fingers grazing his every few steps, but neither of you reached out. Not here.

"Alright, hotshot," you said, stopping in front of a shooting game. "Let’s see if you’re actually as good as you claim."

Logan stepped up to the booth, rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight. "You doubtin’ me?"

You crossed your arms, smirking. "I don’t doubt that you’re good at a lot of things, but precision? Patience? Not exactly your strong suit."

Logan just grunted, dropping some cash onto the counter. The guy running the booth handed him a plastic rifle, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"You gotta hit all five targets," the guy drawled, popping gum in his mouth. "You miss one, you lose."

Logan spun the rifle in his hand like it was nothing, raising an eyebrow at you. "Watch and learn, sweetheart."

You huffed a laugh, but then—

Crack.

The first target dropped.

Then the second.

Then the third, fourth, fifth—so fast the guy running the booth barely had time to register it before the last one clattered down.

Logan set the rifle down with a smirk. "Told ya."

You blinked. "Okay. That was… impressive."

"You're damn right it was." He turned to the booth guy, jerking his head toward the line of stuffed animals. "Pick whichever one she wants."

You looked at the rows of plush toys, pretending to think before pointing at the most obnoxious, oversized teddy bear in sight.

Logan’s smirk faltered. "Really?"

"You said I could pick," you reminded him, grinning.

He muttered something under his breath but took the giant bear when the guy handed it over, tossing it at you. "Happy now?"

You hugged the ridiculous thing to your chest. "Very."

Logan shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You’re gonna be the death of me, doll."

You grinned, looping your arm through his as you walked. "Yeah, but what a way to go."

---

By the time you got back to the mansion, it was late. The house was mostly quiet, save for the faint murmur of the TV in the common room.

Logan parked in the driveway, shutting off the engine. Neither of you moved right away.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "You know we can’t keep this up forever."

Your chest tightened. "I know."

Silence stretched between you for a beat. Then he spoke, "you worth the trouble, sweetheart?" Logan’s voice was softer, rough in a different way.

You turned to him, meeting his gaze. "You tell me."

His lips twitched, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he reached over, curling a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a slow, deliberate kiss.

It was different from earlier—less teasing, less rushed. Just warm, steady, like he was trying to say something without actually saying it.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a second before he exhaled and pulled away completely. "Go on. Before Summers comes lookin’."

You rolled your eyes but grabbed the stupidly large teddy bear and climbed out. As you walked inside, you didn’t have to look back to know Logan was watching.

---

"Jesus, sugar. That’s a big teddy bear," Rogue said, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed, smirking.

You flopped onto your bed, the ridiculous oversized bear landing beside you. "Yeah, well, I earned it."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you? ‘Cause I got a feelin’ Logan earned it, and you just picked the biggest, most obnoxious thing you could outta spite."

You grinned, not even trying to deny it. "He said I could pick."

Rogue let out a snort and stepped inside, flopping down next to the bear and poking its fluffy face. "So, how was date night with our favorite bad decision?"

"Great, actually," you admitted, hugging a pillow to your chest. "We got drinks, he won me this monstrosity, and Scott still thinks I was eating funnel cake and riding the Ferris wheel all night."

Rogue let out a dramatic sigh. "That boy is so clueless, it’s almost sad." Then she shot you a look. "But you know he’s gonna find out eventually, right?"

Your stomach twisted, but you shrugged. "I know."

She tilted her head. "And?"

"And… we’ll deal with it when we have to."

Rogue studied you for a moment, then smirked. "You’re fallin’ for him."

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Instead, you grabbed the teddy bear and smacked her in the face with it.

She cackled, shoving it away. "Oh, sugar, you are so screwed."

"Shut up."

"Nah, I love this," she teased. "Big, bad Wolverine gettin’ all soft for little ol’ you. It’s cute."

"He is not—" You stopped yourself, because… yeah. He kind of was. At least with you.

Rogue grinned, smug as hell. "I bet he’s outside your window right now, just sittin’ there, all broody, waitin’ for me to leave so he can sneak in."

You rolled your eyes. "He’s not that predictable."

A faint tap at your window made you both freeze. Rogue's eyes went wide before she burst out laughing, smacking your arm. "No fuckin’ way."

You shot her a glare before pushing off the bed, crossing the room, and pulling the curtain back.

Sure enough, Logan stood outside, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. You cracked the window open just enough to whisper, "Are you serious?"

Logan just smirked. "You gonna let me in, or what?"

Rogue was still laughing behind you. "Oh, sugar, I’m never lettin’ you live this down."

---

“Where’d you get that necklace?” Jean asked, looking over the rim of her coffee mug.

You barely paused as you stirred sugar into your coffee. "Bought it for myself," you said, keeping your tone casual.

Jean hummed, watching you for a second longer before taking a sip. "It’s nice. Simple."

You nodded, fingers brushing over the small silver Earth pendant. "Yeah. Thought so too."

Across the table, Rogue smirked into her cup but said nothing. You could feel her amusement radiating off of her, but you refused to look at her. If you did, you’d probably give yourself away.

Jean, thankfully, didn’t press. She just shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "Well, good for you. You don’t usually wear jewelry."

You forced a small smile. "Guess I’m changing things up."

Rogue let out a quiet snort. You kicked her under the table.

Jean’s gaze flicked between the two of you, like she was debating whether or not to ask what that was about, but before she could, Scott walked in, yawning as he grabbed a cup of coffee.

"You training today?" he asked you, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Yeah," you said. "After breakfast."

Scott nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. He didn’t seem to notice the way Rogue was still fighting laughter or how Jean kept glancing at your necklace.

You exhaled quietly, focusing on your coffee. Crisis averted. For now.

---

Later that day, you found Logan in the garage, leaning against his bike, arms crossed as he watched you approach.

"You know," you said, stopping in front of him, "Jean noticed the necklace."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? You tell her?"

"Nope," you said, rocking back on your heels. "Said I bought it for myself."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Smart girl."

You smirked. "I try."

Logan reached out, hooking a finger under the chain and tugging you closer. "Y’could’ve just told her the truth."

You gave him a look. "Oh, sure. ‘Hey Jean, thanks for noticing! My secret boyfriend who my brother would literally kill bought it for me. Cool, right?’"

Logan smirked. "I’d pay to see the look on Summers’ face if you ever actually said that."

You rolled your eyes. "You just wanna see him lose his shit."

"Maybe," he admitted, voice full of amusement.

You sighed, shaking your head. "You are such a menace."

Logan’s grip on the necklace tightened for a second before he let it go, letting his fingers trail lightly over your collarbone. "You still wearin’ it, though."

Your breath hitched slightly at the touch, but you kept your expression neutral. "Yeah. I like it."

His smirk softened, just a little. "Good."

For a second, you just stood there, his fingers still ghosting over your skin, the garage quiet except for the distant hum of voices from the mansion.

"You gonna let me take you somewhere tonight?" Logan asked, tilting his head slightly.

You raised an eyebrow. "Somewhere like…?"

Logan shrugged. "Just a ride. No missions, no Scott breathin’ down your neck. Just us."

Your stomach flipped. You hadn’t had much alone time with him outside of stolen moments in your room or hidden corners of the mansion.

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. Alright."

Logan’s smirk widened. "Good girl."

Your face heated, but you ignored it, turning on your heel before he could say anything else. "I’ll meet you out here at eleven," you called over your shoulder.

"Don’t be late, sweetheart," he said, and you didn’t have to look back to know he was grinning.

---

The night air was cool against your skin as you stepped off the mansion’s back porch, your pulse quickening with every quiet step. You stuck to the shadows, moving with practiced ease—this wasn’t your first time sneaking out. But it was always a gamble. Always a risk.

Still, that didn’t stop the thrill from curling low in your stomach.

Logan was already waiting by his bike, leaning against it with his arms crossed, cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers. He exhaled, watching you with that familiar smirk—half amused, half something darker.

"Took you long enough," he muttered, flicking the cigar away.

“I said eleven," you shot back, coming to a stop in front of him. "It’s eleven."

Logan glanced at his watch like he didn’t believe you, then shrugged. "Close enough."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything else, he grabbed the helmet from the handlebars and held it out. You hesitated for half a second before taking it, slipping it on as Logan swung a leg over the bike.

"Hop on, doll."

You did, settling in behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist automatically. He was warm, solid beneath your touch, the scent of leather and faint cigar smoke clinging to him.

"You gonna tell me where we're going?" you asked, voice slightly muffled behind the visor.

Logan reached down, gripping your thigh just enough to make you feel it. "Nope."

Your stomach flipped. Before you could push for an answer, the engine roared to life beneath you, and then you were moving—tearing down the quiet backroads, the wind rushing past, the world blurring into streaks of light and shadow.

You didn’t ask again. You just held on tighter.

---

Logan didn’t stop until you were well outside of town, pulling off onto a secluded dirt path surrounded by thick trees. The headlights cast long shadows against the trunks as he killed the engine. The night settled around you, quiet except for the faint hum of crickets and the cooling tick of the bike.

You pulled off the helmet, shaking out your hair before looking around. "This is either really romantic or the start of a horror movie."

Logan snorted, stepping off the bike. "Guess that depends on your definition of romantic."

You smirked, handing him the helmet as you stood. "So? What’s the plan, tough guy? You bringin’ me out here to bury a body?"

He huffed a laugh. "Nah. Just figured we could use some real privacy for once." He jerked his head toward a break in the trees. "C’mon."

You followed him down a small path, stepping carefully over the uneven ground. After a few minutes, the trees thinned out, revealing a stretch of open sky and a lake shimmering under the moonlight.

Your breath caught for half a second. You hadn't expected this.

Logan glanced at you, catching the look on your face. "Not bad, huh?"

You crossed your arms, pretending to consider. "It’s alright, I guess."

He smirked. "Brat."

You grinned but didn’t argue. Instead, you kicked off your shoes and stepped onto the wooden dock that stretched over the water, feeling the worn planks creak under your weight. Logan followed, hands in his pockets as he leaned against one of the wooden posts.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The air was crisp, the reflection of the stars rippling over the water’s surface. It was quiet. Peaceful. Something you didn’t get much of at the mansion.

Then Logan’s voice broke the silence. "You ever think about leavin’?"

You blinked, turning to him. "What?"

He kept his eyes on the water. "The mansion. The team. All of it."

You frowned. "Why would I?"

Logan let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Dunno. Just seems like sometimes you’re tryin’ to be somethin’ you ain’t."

You stared at him, caught off guard. "And what exactly do you think I am?"

Logan’s eyes finally met yours, something unreadable in them. "Someone who don’t belong in a cage. No matter how nice they make it look."

Your stomach twisted. You knew what he meant. The mansion was safe, sure. But it was also rules, expectations, eyes always watching. You’d built a life there. A good one. But was it really yours? Or was it just the one Scott expected you to have?

You swallowed, looking away. "And what about you?"

Logan tilted his head slightly. "What about me?"

"Do you ever think about leaving?" You asked.

A pause. "All the damn time."

Something about the way he said it made your chest ache.

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything. Instead, you stepped closer, reaching for his hand. Logan let you take it, his fingers curling around yours automatically.

"You don’t have to stay, you know," you murmured. "If you really wanted to go."

Logan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Yeah, doll. I do."

Your throat tightened. You knew what he meant. He wasn’t staying for the team.

He was staying for you.

For a moment, you just stood there, his hand warm in yours, the lake stretching out endless and quiet beneath the stars.

Then, finally, Logan smirked. "This is gettin’ a little too sentimental. You wanna go for a swim or somethin’?"

You snorted, shaking your head. "It’s freezing."

"So?"

You rolled your eyes. "You go first, tough guy."

Logan didn’t hesitate. He kicked off his boots, shrugged out of his jacket, and before you could even process what was happening—

Splash.

You gasped as water sprayed onto the dock, the surface rippling wildly where Logan had disappeared. You stared at the disturbance for half a second before Logan popped back up, slicking his hair back with both hands. "Water’s fine."

"You’re a liar," you laughed.

Logan grinned, then suddenly shot out an arm—grabbing your ankle.

"Logan��!"

Too late.

You yelped as he yanked, throwing you completely off balance. The last thing you saw before you hit the water was his smug, grinning face. The cold was a shock—freezing against your skin, stealing the breath from your lungs as you surfaced, gasping.

"You asshole!" you sputtered, shoving wet hair out of your face.

Logan just laughed, the deep sound echoing across the water. "You deserved it," he said, treading water.

"You’re dead," you threatened, lunging at him.

Logan dodged easily, still grinning. "Gotta catch me first, doll."

Oh, it was on now.

You lunged again, cutting through the water as fast as you could, but Logan was quick—too quick. He moved just out of reach every time, smirking like the smug bastard he was.

"That the best you got?" he taunted, backstroking away like he had all the time in the world.

You narrowed your eyes. "You realize I have powers, right?"

Logan’s smirk widened. "Then use ‘em, sweetheart. Let’s see what you got."

Oh, he was asking for it. You didn’t hesitate. You focused, letting energy pulse through your limbs, giving yourself a boost as you surged forward. Logan’s eyes barely had time to widen before you tackled him, sending both of you under the water.

Bubbles rushed around you, the muffled sound of movement filling your ears as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging him down with you. You knew he could hold his breath longer than you, but you weren’t planning on letting this turn into a real fight.

Instead, you twisted, using the momentum to flip him over so you were the one pinning him, hands braced against his shoulders. Even underwater, his smirk was there—amused, challenging.

You rolled your eyes and pushed off, breaking the surface first.

A second later, Logan popped up in front of you, shaking water from his hair. "Not bad," he admitted, voice rougher than usual from the cold. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

"Yeah, well, you underestimate me a lot," you shot back, treading water.

Logan’s smirk softened just a little. "Never."

Your breath hitched, pulse stuttering for a second, but before you could dwell on it, Logan moved—closing the distance between you in one smooth motion. His hands found your waist under the water, steady, warm despite the chill.

"You’re shivering," he murmured.

You rolled your eyes. "Because you threw me in a freezing lake, dumbass."

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, but instead of teasing you again, he just pulled you closer. The warmth of him was instant, the solid weight of his body pressing against yours. His hands slid up, fingers tracing along your ribs, your back. You swallowed, heartbeat thudding as his lips brushed against your temple, then down to the edge of your jaw.

"You wanna get out?" he murmured, voice low.

You nodded, but neither of you moved. Instead, Logan dipped his head, lips ghosting over yours, slow and teasing, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. Like he wanted you to.

But you didn’t. You closed the space, pressing your mouth against his, your fingers slipping into his wet hair as he kissed you back—deep, slow, like he had all the time in the world.

The water rocked around you, your bodies drifting, the night air cool against your skin. It was dangerous, reckless—standing there like this, kissing in the open where anyone could find you.

But you didn’t care.

Not tonight.

Eventually, Logan pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get you warmed up."

His smirk was back, but there was something else in his eyes now—something softer, something real.

You exhaled, nodding. "Yeah. Okay."

Logan didn’t let you go as he led you back toward the shore, his grip firm, steady. Like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

a few things - one, reader's powers are energy manipulation. two, i think it's in the next part, but reader has a degree in something nature/environmental related. it's not heavily described though. anyways, enjoy part 2!

❀ part 2 ❀

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett oneshot #wolverine smut #logan ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ #abby's works ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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cbeargyu · 3 months ago

Text

prophecy ﹢﹑ ⊹ ﹒ [smut]

summary: wow, you love your dedicated, sweet husband — a man who grills like a god, folds laundry like a pro, and kisses you like he’s still trying to win you over. but once upon a time? he was your worst enemy. sharp words, rolled eyes, and a rivalry that made high school unbearable… until one prophecy, one kiss, and one chaotic love story changed everything.

pairing: husband!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, domestic/family life, hint of magical realism.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), strong language, mentions of pregnancy and parenthood, soft angst, suggestive humor, implied prophecy/magic, fluff overload.

wc: 3555

notes: hi everyone! i’ve been having a lot of recurring thoughts about dad!tae lately 👀 i truly believe that devoted husband, multitasking good father taehyun is a headcanon, and i love himmm. i hope you enjoy the story! 💛

PRESENT.

you and the girls are settled in deep garden chairs overlooking the lake, legs tucked under light blankets, iced teas sweating in your hands. it’s one of those rare, golden moments — where the breeze is gentle, the laughter is low, and the chaos feels like home.

taehyun is at the barbecue, of course, wearing that stupidly tight apron that says “dad’s the #1 bbq king”, flipping ribs like a damn pro, forearms glistening in the sun, jaw flexing as he tastes marinade off his thumb. beomgyu stands beside him, supposedly helping, though he’s clearly more interested in sneaking bites than actually grilling.

a few meters away, yeonjun is on the grass with seori and dawon, arms wide, pretending to be a dinosaur while the kids scream with laughter. soobin is up on the patio, changing baby yoonjae with the seasoned skill of a dad of two, and huening kai just pulled into the driveway, arms full of snacks and extra diapers — ever the reliable uncle.

you glance at your kids: seori and seojeong, your five-year-old twins, are building a rock castle near the water, arguing over who’s king; little jeongwoo is chewing on a toy car in chaemin’s lap. nuri, soobin and naara’s daughter, is sharing bubbles with chaeyoung, yeonjun’s two-year-old girl. it’s loud, messy, perfect. the rest of the guys are setting up the picnic tables as their wives laugh softly nearby, glowing in the late afternoon sun.

you look at the same girls who were with you the night everything changed — outside that witch’s shop, giggling and skeptical.

“sometimes I still can’t believe we’re all moms now,” naara sighs.

“well,” Hana laughs, “not all. kai and i are still happily child-free, thank you very much.”

“but not forever, right?” jiyoon teases, hand resting on her pregnant belly, six months along.

“maybe. eventually,” Hana shrugs. “when we’re not still pretending we’re twenties”

everyone laughs.

“i mean,” chaemin grins, “y/n was the first. married first. kids first. like the prophecy said.”

you roll your eyes, but your stomach still flips. that prophecy. that stupid night. that damn witch. and yet — here you are. married to taehyun. three kids. just like she said.

you glance at him now, just as he licks a bit of sauce off his finger, slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on yours from across the garden.

the fucker knows exactly what he’s doing.

you swallow hard.

“what?” he smirks, “you want a taste, baby?”

you arch a brow, arms crossed. “i’m good. i already had you for breakfast.”

he chokes on a laugh, turning back to the grill, but not before tossing a wink over his shoulder. “round two later. when the kids are asleep.”

you roll your eyes, heart fluttering anyway.

you sit down on the edge of the porch, letting the sun kiss your face.

and just like that, the memory hits.

FLASHBACK.

you remember it vividly — that summer night years ago, stumbling out of karaoke with your friends, still giggling about hana’s terrible high notes and the way naara kept butchering the lyrics. the street was buzzing, the kind of neon-washed chaos that made everything feel a little magical.

then you saw it.

that crooked little alleyway lit by flickering candles, lined with strange shops selling crystals, talismans, jars of dried things you didn’t want to identify. and right at the center — the one with the purple curtains and the wooden sign that read “destiny & darkness: magic for the brave.”

“let’s go,” chaemin had dared, already pulling you by the hand.

the woman inside looked like she’d stepped out of a fairytale — silver hair, too many rings, eyes that felt like they could see through timelines. she said she could read your futures together. and laughing, tipsy, you all agreed.

one by one, she gave vague clues to the others. but when it was your turn, she looked serious.

“you,” she murmured, taking your hand, “will be the first. first to marry. first to bear life. your fire matches his.”

you blinked. “his?”

“the boy with the sharp tongue and the hurt behind his eyes. he hides desire with cruelty. but he is yours. three children. you’ll know him when the truth hits.”

the others were already laughing. “taehyun?” naara joked, “no way. he called y/n ugly last week.”

“what the actual fuc—”

“language,” the woman snapped. “you’ll be a mother.”

you’d scoffed. you hated that cocky, smug, insufferable basketball player.

you hadn't spoken to him since that day. since he'd leaned in with that cocky smirk, expecting you'd melt like the rest of them, and when you didn’t, when you raised a brow and told him to try harder, he blinked—just once—and spat out:

“tch. you’re prettier from far away.”

you’d laughed in his face, the most venomous, biting laugh you could muster. the kind that echoed in his ears long after you walked away.

so no, you hadn't spoken since.

not until now.

it seemed like he was determined to get close to you at any cost. the first move came when he used a flimsy excuse to return your chemistry notebook, which you had purposely left on your desk. you had planned to grab it in the morning, knowing you’d need it for class first thing.

the hallway smelled like cheap disinfectant and teenage sweat. nothing unusual. but something in the air felt different. subtle. tense.

ever since that night at the karaoke bar, since the damn witch, your friends looked at you like you had property of kang taehyun tattooed across your forehead. and worse—he looked at you the same way.

now he watched you like he'd figured something out. like he knew a secret you didn’t.

you hated it.

you hated him for making you doubt everything.

you were at your locker, pulling out your books, when his voice landed behind you.

“you left this in chemistry.”

you turned. And there he was. the bastard. holding your notebook like it was breakable.

“thanks,” you muttered, flat, avoiding his gaze.

“you shouldn’t be more honest?”

your head snapped up. you met his eyes. the loosened tie, the half-buttoned shirt, that stupid unruly hair falling into his lashes. goddamn him.

“oh, thank you so much, kang taehyun,” you drawled. “you’ve saved me from failing chemistry. however can i repay you?”

he smiled.

not like before. not like the boy who laughed at everything. this one was softer. quieter. more dangerous.

“i accept offerings in snacks. or praise. preferably both. but i’ll settle for you not pretending you hate me.” the second act occurred a week later, it was after practice, a late afternoon when the gym smelled like sweat and wood polish and the sky outside was melting into peach and violet. you were there to pick up your friend’s forgotten phone, not to run into him.

but of course, there he was. shirt half off, hair damp, alone. the others had left. he must’ve stayed behind to shoot.

you told yourself to ignore him. walk in, grab the phone, leave. simple. clean. civil.

except your damn eyes betrayed you.

you glanced.

and he caught it.

his smirk was lazy as he wiped the sweat from his jaw with his shirt. “you stalking me now?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. i came here just to bask in your body odor.”

he chuckled low, dribbling the ball lazily as he looked at you through his lashes. "still got that sharp mouth, huh?”

you stepped closer to the bleachers. “still got that inflated ego, huh?”

silence stretched between you, not awkward, but loaded. his dribble slowed.

then he said, quieter than you expected, “what i said that day… was a dick move.”

you blinked. his tone didn’t match the taehyun you knew — didn’t drip with arrogance, or sarcasm. it was raw, almost shy.

“…yeah,” you muttered, folding your arms. “it was.”

“i thought being an asshole was easier than—”

he stopped himself. his fingers tightened around the ball. you waited.

“than what?” you pushed, stepping off the last bleacher.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark and unreadable. “than actually wanting to get to know you.”

that caught you off guard. completely. and you hated that it did. hated the way your chest fluttered, hated the way his voice didn’t sound rehearsed or smooth, just… honest.

“why would you want that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

he took a slow step forward. “because you didn’t fall for my shit. That pissed me off. and then it interested me. and now… i don’t know. you live in my head.”

you snorted. “that’s sad.”

“i know,” he said, smiling.

you should’ve left then. should’ve walked away like you had last time.

but you didn’t.

instead, you stood there in the low light of the empty gym, heart racing, while he bounced the ball once, then let it roll.

“wanna shoot?” he asked, nodding toward the hoop.

“…i suck.”

“i’ll teach you.”

you hesitated.

then stepped onto the court.

then, the climax of the third act also arrived.

it was the end of english class when they called for the dictionaries to be returned. the library was quiet, the usual buzz of chatter replaced by the soft shuffle of pages and the sound of students neatly lining up their books. you walked over to the shelves, pulling the heavy dictionary from your bag, the weight of it making your fingers brush against the spines of other books. you weren’t paying attention to anything in particular—until you felt him.

taehyun appeared beside you, too close for comfort. his usual smirk was missing, replaced by something else, something quieter. he didn’t say anything at first, just watched as you placed the book on the shelf. the air between you felt heavier, charged. his presence was overwhelming, the scent of his cologne mixing with the musty smell of old pages.

“you know,” he said, his voice low and just for you, “i’m starting to think you really do enjoy ignoring me.”

you didn’t look at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. but then, his hand brushed lightly against yours, a casual touch that sent an unexpected jolt of warmth through your body. you froze, feeling the pull between you both, the moment hanging in the balance. you didn’t want to acknowledge it, but you couldn’t ignore it either.

before you could move away, he stepped closer, his chest almost touching your back. his breath fanned across the nape of your neck as his lips grazed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“you know what i’ve been thinking?” his voice was almost a whisper now, the words teasing and close enough to make you tense. “maybe you don’t hate me after all.”

you swallowed, the tension thick in the air, and tried to step back, but his hand moved, resting just above your waist, guiding you back towards him. you could feel the heat of his body, the press of his chest against your back, and the way his lips hovered near your skin.

and then, as if it had all been building up in silence, his lips touched the side of your neck, a fleeting, hot kiss that made your heart race. he pulled back quickly, just enough to look at you, his expression unreadable.

"guess that answers my question," he murmured, his voice rough with amusement.

your breath caught in your throat. for a moment, it was as if time stopped. his teasing smile was back, but there was something in his eyes—something deeper. you were too close. everything was too close.

you turned to face him, your back now against the bookshelf, heart thudding in your chest. he was watching you—waiting, maybe even testing you. and maybe you should’ve walked away. maybe you should’ve said something scathing and left him there with his smug little smirk and sinful mouth.

but you didn’t.

instead, you tilted your chin, eyes locked on his.

“i think i have my answer too,” you whispered.

and then you kissed him.

you were the one who did it. you reached up, grabbed a fistful of his collar and dragged him down to you, your lips crashing into his with more hunger than you'd admit to anyone. your fingers curled into the soft fabric behind his neck, anchoring yourself, like you’d waited too long and couldn't wait any longer.

for a second, taehyun didn’t move. he froze, like his brain had short-circuited. then his hands found your waist—strong, warm, his—and he kissed you back like he’d been holding himself back for years. his mouth moved over yours, desperate and deep, and he pulled you against him until there wasn’t a breath of space left between your bodies. the bookshelf behind you rattled quietly as you leaned into it, not caring if the world burned around you.

and then it was over.

just like that.

you both pulled apart, lips tingling, breathing fast, eyes wide. no words. no promises. just that look—like you both knew something irreversible had just happened.

everything after that moved fast.

you started dating. somewhere between library makeouts and late-night texts that lasted until sunrise, the bickering faded and the heat stayed. then came the wedding. then came the kids. now there were sticky fingers on glass doors and toys buried in the garden, soft lullabies and sleepless nights, the scent of barbecues and baby powder and love that felt like home.

you never questioned your feelings. you loved your husband—loved him—with every bone in your body. but remembering how it all started… in the shadows of dusty shelves, hearts racing, breath stolen between whispers…

it was strange.

strange—but the kind of strange that makes a love story unforgettable.

PRESENT.

funny how things turn out. you started off hating each other—really hating each other. petty insults, eye rolls, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. and now? now you were married, sharing a mortgage, three beautiful kids, and a calendar full of playdates and parent-teacher meetings. Ironic, isn’t it? how the boy who once called you annoying is now the man who kisses your stretch marks and whispers “thank you” after every bedtime story.

the house is finally quiet. the lake outside hums instead of roars, and the soft creak of floorboards is the only sound accompanying the anxious thump in your chest.

the kids are out cold. seori curled around her unicorn plushie. seojeong half-off the bed like always. jeongwoo snuggled in a sleepy little knot in his portable crib. all your babies, safe and dreaming.

and now… your husband.

taehyun’s in the kitchen, shirtless except for that old, stretched-out tee of yours that reads “bad decisions make good stories”. his hair’s a mess. his eyes shine in the low kitchen light, and that goddamn smile’s already waiting for you.

“you should be sleeping, babe,” he murmurs, still drying a plate with a towel like he has all the time in the world.

you lean against the doorway, arms crossed. “can’t sleep. too wired. maybe it’s the leftover sugar from the s’mores.”

“or maybe it’s me.”

you shoot him a look, but he’s already tossing the towel aside, walking toward you like gravity’s pulling him.

“you looked so hot today,” he says into your neck, his voice a hush meant just for you, “watching me grill, biting your lip like that… i swear, i could feel your eyes burning through my damn apron.”

“you did it on purpose,” you mutter, your grin impossible to hold back as his hands slide around your waist.

“of course i did. i always do it on purpose.”

“you’re impossible.”

“and you’re still mine.”

he kisses you. slow at first, like he’s reminding you how it started — that ridiculous flirtation, that first real kiss in the back of the library after weeks of pushing each other’s buttons, the kind of kiss that changed everything. like he still has something to prove.

“taehyun...”

“you think i don’t still get hard every time you say my name like that?” he whispers against your mouth. “you think i forgot how to worship you just because you made me a father?”

your knees go weak. the fire in your chest spreads, low and warm and relentless.

“bedroom. now,” you say, breathless.

taehyun’s grin is all cocky pride and boyish hunger. “god, i love when you get bossy.”

“and i love when you shut up and fuck me.”

he chuckles, deep and low, then lifts you like it’s nothing, carrying you through the house without breaking the kiss. your legs wrap around him, fingers buried in his hair. and even after all this time, even after the kids and the chaos and the late-night feedings, that fire — the one the witch predicted — still burns.

and you have no intention of putting it out.

he kicks the door shut with his foot, never taking his mouth off yours. the room’s dim, the only light coming from the sliver of moon sneaking through the curtains, painting his skin silver. you gasp when your back hits the mattress, the cool sheets a sharp contrast to the heat rolling off his body.

taehyun hovers over you, eyes dark, chest rising and falling. he looks at you like he’s starving — and you know it’s not just lust. it’s you.

“god, look at you,” he mutters, dragging his fingers up your thigh, slow and reverent. “how the hell did I get this lucky?”

you laugh, breathless. “maybe it was the witch.”

he smirks, teeth flashing. “remind me to send her a fruit basket.”

you yank him down by the collar of your shirt now stretched over his torso. “just remind me why i married you.”

taehyun’s mouth crashes into yours, hot and needy, his kiss all tongue and teeth and promise. his hands are everywhere — cupping your breasts through your shirt, sliding under the hem to feel skin, gripping your hips like he wants to memorize the shape of you.

“you drive me insane,” he breathes into your neck, sucking a mark just beneath your jaw. “you’ve always driven me insane.”

“good,” you whisper, arching into him, your fingers slipping under his waistband. “then it’s mutual.”

clothes are tossed blindly — your shorts hit the lamp, his boxers land half on the nightstand — until it’s just skin against skin. his body presses into yours like he belongs there, like you were carved to fit together. and in a way, maybe you were.

he sinks between your legs, groaning low when he feels how ready you are for him. but he doesn’t rush. no, taehyun’s never rushed you — he savors, teases, worships.

“you think i don’t still fantasize about that first kiss in the library?” he murmurs against your breast, kissing it softly before dragging his tongue in slow circles. “you think i don’t remember the exact sound you made when you grabbed me?”

you whimper, fingers tugging at his hair.

“say it,” he demands, voice thick. “tell me you remember too.”

“i do,” you gasp. “i remember everything.”

his mouth finds yours again, and this time when he pushes inside you, it's slow but deep — a stretch you still crave, even now. your bodies find a rhythm that’s old and new at once, urgent but familiar, desperate but safe.

and when you come, clinging to him, moaning his name like it’s a prayer — he follows right after, burying his face in your neck, whispering “mine” over and over like a sacred chant.

after, you lie there tangled in sheets and sweat and love.

the sun barely begins to filter through the curtains when the soft cries of Jeongwoo echo through the baby monitor. you groan, stretching beneath the still-warm sheets, and feel taehyun shift beside you, arm instinctively reaching for your waist.

“your turn,” you mumble, eyes still closed.

he chuckles sleepily. “we both know i’m going either way.”

you hear him pad out of the room a moment later, humming something low and sweet as he picks up your son. soon, seori’s giggles join the morning chaos, followed by seojeong’s sleepy demands for cereal now. the house fills with life again.

you toss on a robe and follow the noise to the kitchen, where taehyun stands in that same ridiculous t-shirt, hair sticking up in all directions, a baby on one hip and a juice box in his mouth like a cigarette.

he sees you, grins.

and right there, watching your husband juggle toddlers and toast like a pro, your heart aches — in that full, quiet, overwhelming kind of way.

the house stirs quickly after that.

naara appears first, hair a mess, nuri clinging to her leg like a koala. soobin trails behind, already bouncing baby yoonjae in his arms. yeonjun comes in with chaemin, both still in pajamas, laughing about something seori said in her sleep. hana yawns dramatically as she pours herself coffee, and kai steals a pancake right off the skillet with zero shame.

the kitchen turns into controlled chaos—tiny feet pattering on hardwood, spoons clinking, someone yelling about missing socks, someone else cleaning spilled juice. taehyun bumps your hip with his as he flips another pancake, and you pretend to be annoyed, but he knows better.

outside, the lake glimmers in the morning light. another sunny day. another memory in the making.

716 notes · View notes

todosdream · 5 months ago

Text

stress relief | ony

15k wrds. strangers to friends? to lovers. slow burn. angst. plot with smut. fem black oc. see the moodboard.

warnings: MNDI! lots of profanity, usage of n word, pet names, mentions of weed; smut: unprotected sex (PLS BE SAFE), edging, a spank or two, naaasty talk, degradation? more like brat-taming, dacryphilia for two seconds, ony rightfully has a bbc, begging, ony’s a talker (duh), choking? really just a hand necklace, pussydrunk ony, lowkey d/s but not explicitly mentioned

additional #: oc needs to get laid fr. kt needs her headphones. becca needs a new job. author doesn’t box. shout out mrs. etta. ony is chalanting with a girl for the first time. (and he’s vibing with it.) oc really needs to get laid. oc is a bit bratty… sorry. ony needs to get off his ass. oc is actually very bratty, damn. oh hell, oc gets laid!

“girl, I’ma be real with you… you need some dick,” crystal’s best friend tells her through her screen. kt’s giving a look, an interesting mix of pity and annoyance. her knotless braids are framing her face, mocha skin radiant as always but lashes looking quite barren. “yeah, and you need a lash refill, ho,” crystal snorts. since she’s bringing up needs and shit. it’s unfortunately been a while since they’ve hung out, kt now visiting family in colorado for about a week.

being the type of friends they are, the both of them have no issue communicating through tiktoks and sending pictures of silly things. just yesterday kt sent a picture of herself holding up a peace sign with a joint between her lips. she stood next to a 'no smoking' sign, the ‘no’ smudged. she thought she was just so clever. crys in return sent a saved picture of an unimpressed squidward, a typical exchange between the two goofballs.

“yeah, okay, ho. I’m just saying. maybe you’d be a little nicer to me if you got some,” she rolls her eyes, giving yzma. her rescheduled lash appointment can’t come quick enough. “says the girl getting some every day and still being mean to me,” crys scoffs.

kt’s living with her boyfriend, expecting his title to change to fiance after feeling a certain anticipatory energy from the man. her time consists of working and chatting with friends, and being with and posting videos with her partner. crys, however, explores her free time in many ways. picking up hobbies that have about a 50% chance of sticking, trying different restaurants, teaching her dog funny tricks, and the occasional friend hangout. it’s friday night and she’s doing her own nails just for the hell of it. although the uninhibited girl’s words trigger an automatic negative response, crys knows why she’s speaking them. when the phone call ends, kt will turn over and cuddle up to her man, maybe ‘get her shit rocked’ as she likes to so delicately put it. crys, however, will be left with her dog, her empty home and bed, and whichever toy she vibes with for the night.

she likes being alone, it’s an accomplishment for her to feel confident and comfortable being single after wasting her time with people that don’t care, men that don’t even actually like her. but when it’s all said and done, people are meant for connection. of course platonic, family, community… but that pull? that yearning? it can’t be replicated, no matter how many times she rewatches bridgerton or insecure.

it’s been a while since she just let go with anyone other than those already close to her. the last time she let someone new in, he showed her exactly why ‘niggas ain’t shit’ is such a popular phrase. it was a situation that didn’t make any sense, and in retrospect, she cringes. the embarrassment, the useless attempts at communication, the settling… never again. however, that’s a part of her life that’s being fully neglected. no dates, no late night rendezvous, no flirting, no sex.

one word: cobwebs.

“why are you more worried about my coochie than I am, anyway?” crys jokes as she fixes her gel polish, deflecting the conversation. it’s not something she wants to discuss or harp on. that’s just life for her right now. she’s tired of people wasting her time, so she became unavailable. simple. plus, she knows kt’s nosy ass man is lying next to her and listening because that girl never wears her damn airpods. “you think that’s an insult? girl. that only makes you look bad, not me,” she sasses. crys hears a soft snicker in the background. “oh, fuck you,” the girl mumbles in response. “and will you please put headphones on the next time you decide to go talkin’ bout my coochie? cause I’ll happily tell all those stories about yours, pimp.”

“stories?” crys hears in the background of the call. “ain’t no way she just called you that. what the hell that mean, crystal?” the bestie purses her lips and squints at crys. she watches as the brown skinned girl tilts her head, making her curls flop to the side with a ‘gotcha’ look. “I know where you live, you know that, fo’head? have a good night with your vibrator, ho,” she speaks lowly. shuffles are heard as she drops the phone onto the duvet next to her. “she don’t mean that, pookie, she’s just all pent up.” kt’s middle finger is all that’s visible on the screen before the phone echos a tone a few times, indicating the end of the call. crys snorts in response and sits her phone to the side. she sighs, looking over her nails for any imperfections as her mind echoes her words.

she wouldn’t be opposed to a night in the sheets. it’d be nice to dust off the cobwebs. get some head, maybe get her shit rocked like she hasn’t had in a while. part of her wants the slow and sensual, romantic sex with someone special. the kind of sex that touches her soul, that you can feel on every level. the other part… well. that part stays right in the cage where it belongs. that part likes to drown in frisky pleasure even if the one giving it is a life source draining leech.

it’s normal to want pleasure, it’s human. but the thought of all the bullshit that comes with dealing with another human, let alone a man in this day and age is enough to make her reconsider taking that step. so like usual, she brushes the words off and refocuses on her spa day so that she can be at her best for the work week.

ᥫ᭡

despite her best efforts, the next week is particularly irritating. mercury must be doing her shit, maybe all the damn planets, because so many people have had wack ass attitudes and it’s rubbed crys wrong. terrible interactions with customers, coworkers called out and left her in a busy store with little help, and she broke a nail doing something very much so not in her job description. on top of that, the amount of random things outside of her control that have gone haywire is deeply irritating. her tv crapped out and decided to just stop working out of nowhere, her wifi is out for local renovations, and her trash can is missing.

again.

it’s a wonder she hasn’t either had some type of crash out or just cashed in her pto for a fucking break. instead, she decides to get dressed for the gym and puts on a purple workout set. if she wants to be cute and sweaty she damn well will be. she grabs her favorite gym shoes and her essentials. she leaves her curls alone for now, but takes a scrunchie to put it up later. when she gets to the gym at a completely different time than she’s used to, it’s practically empty, save for a young and obviously bored receptionist that’s glued to her phone and a middle aged woman power walking into her destiny.

seriously, crys will have some of what she’s having. the woman is on fire.

sighing to herself, the frazzled girl goes to scan her member qr code, only for the damn scanner to decide to stop working. the blonde receptionist behind the desk sighs as if doing her job is the last thing she wants to do. crys usually wouldn’t blame her for that, but the way she’s popping her gum has the curly headed girl imagining a modern re-enactment of that one scene from that madea movie. the receptionist seems to be in absolutely no rush to fix the scanner, completely oblivious to the metaphorical cloud over crys’ head that’s growing by the minute. she fights the urge to furrow her brows and take a week’s worth of irritation out on the worker, deciding to take a deep breath instead.

the brief look up that the girl gives in response has her immediately regretting her decision.

before she can even think of something to say, the door opens behind her. she’s in no mood to look at the person, figuring they’ll both be waiting in line. she doesn’t want to seem open to small talk because she’s just not. however, the receptionist— becca, her nametag reads— looks up like the sun just graced the sky for the first time in centuries. she stands up straighter, obviously trying to make herself look like she’s doing the job that she’s been failing at, and calls over crys’ shoulder. “hey, ony, technical difficulties. you’re free to go ahead you don’t have to wait, I can check you in once this is fixed,” she smiles. that lucky bastard. it’s the first smile on her face in the entire time the bristling girl has been there. crys swears if this was a cartoon scene, the blonde girl would be fluttering her lashes with hearts in her eyes.

there’s a deep chuckle from behind. “thanks, becca. they should give you a raise,” a low, raspy voice responds. crys’ eye twitches. the hell they should, she thinks. hand me the damn performance review form cause I got shit to say. becca, now looking as if she’s on cloud nine, waves him off dismissively. “just doing my job. leg day?” she questions, trying to sound as casual as possible and not like her drool is threatening to ruin the damn scanner beyond repair. “mhm,” the stranger hums. “nice kicks,” he mumbles.

crys is too busy zoning out and imagining herself tap dancing on the broken pieces of the scanner to realize that he’s talking to her. the way becca’s eyes shift gets her attention. “oh. uh, thanks,” she murmurs, looking up. all she sees is a muscular back walking towards the men’s locker room. she doesn’t have time to look him over because ms. becca decides she actually can do her job and calls out to her that the scanner is fixed.

it just needed to be plugged up again.

ain’t no fuckin’ way.

becca doesn’t even seem embarrassed. she’s holding the scanner lazily and looking around, probably for that ony guy. the blonde doesn’t realize that crys is holding her phone out, and she’s still popping that damn gum. instead of saying something to the girl like she really wants to, she grabs the scanner from the “worker” to check her damn self in and quickly heads to the locker room. the girl doesn’t deserve her week’s worth of anger.

after some time, she’s finally out on the floor to stretch out. soon after the warm up, she’s at the punching bag. it’s not her usual choice of workout, but she took classes when she was younger and knows it’s a great way to release all that irritation from the week in a more physical outlet.

crys quickly wraps her hands and soon she’s throwing punches and listening to rico nasty, an artist who has several tracks on her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist. she gets into her groove, trying to remember the important tips from the classes she attended years ago. it’s hard to recall all the basics, but she gives it her best shot. not too long after, she notices a shadow of someone’s frame behind her. it must be that lucky asshole from earlier, probably here to be a bother. or maybe becca decided to do her job and came to tell her to move her bag off the floor. she sighs, taking out her headphones and turning to look. it’s the stranger. the man’s arms are crossed as he watches, showing his sleeves of tattoos.

crys wishes she could say he was ugly, but he’s definitely not. he’s fine as fuck, actually. his skin is dark and healthy, making him look like he actually has a skincare routine and not just 100-in-one soap. he has an athletic build visible even through his clothes that makes her want to drool like dear old becca. he’s tall, maybe 6’4 or 6’5, so she has to look up at him, even being on the taller side herself. his black durag matches his all black workout fit and she wonders what exactly lies underneath considering the size of his arms.

his demeanor is calm and steady, confident in a way that’s quiet, as opposed to many other gym bros™. his face is calm and there’s barely any tension in his body. crys thinks she’d like to make him bothered, just to get a rise. see if he’ll hold ip or bite back. but no, that’s rude, and she doesn’t know this man at all. his eyes are looking at her intently, and she despises how beautiful they are. why do men get to have natural lashes that look like that? it’s not fair she has to get extensions when his are so long with an almost perfect curl. and the color of his eyes make it worse, the light brown contrasting his dark skin so prettily. and his lips? full, perfect for kissing, among other things.

lucky bastard.

“you gone bite my head off if I suggest how to fix your form?” he asks with a simple raise of his brow.

ᥫ᭡

ony’s a hardworking man. he likes to handle business but have some fun on the side too. he’s chill. everyone would describe him as that. he’s the levelheaded friend, usually the calm in a storm, and not one to be all over the place physically, mentally, or emotionally. he’s a steady beat and he likes it that way. life is peaceful and secure, challenging in certain ways, but calm in others. he has a good paying job as a personal trainer, proper work life balance, and a good head on his shoulders. he doesn’t do too much, honestly, but that doesn’t mean that his life doesn’t have some interesting twists and turns. his boys always seem to need rescuing in some form, sisters all a whirlwind of their own. his mom is always a source of entertainment, although his dad is much like himself. he likes his life, simple as that.

but things have been becoming monotonous lately. his clients aren’t having any interesting developments and his social life is steady but uninteresting overall. his family group chat is going through a quiet spell and his boys are actually not up to anything stupid like they somehow always are. he’s been particularly unfulfilled by the game and there’s no sport he wants to keep up with as of late. it’s all kind of… blah. he’s grateful that nothing’s going wrong. he could be having a bad week as opposed to a boring one, but he aches for a spark, something different to bring a bit more color to his life. maybe he should get a pet? maybe some little fish couldn’t hurt. he thinks over the new idea while he follows his usual routine to pack up and leave for the gym.

and then he sees crys.

he notices her form as she stands at the check in desk, interest piqued. he’s never seen her before, and he comes to this gym at least five nights a week. he knows names and faces, especially since there’s usually no more than five people when he comes. her figure catches and keeps his eye, his gaze taking in the woman’s long legs, thick thighs, and plump ass, seeing how her afro falls around her shoulders. his excuse for where his gaze is centered is that it’s all he can see from where he’s standing, but it’s not much of an excuse. she’s just fine as hell. her workout fit is cute and colorful, contrasting his dark and bland one. her hand is in on her hip that’s popped out, accentuating her form.

his interest is definitely piqued.

he gets to see more of her when he comes around to speak to becca. pretty almond eyes, soft looking lips, the bottom currently being chewed with vigor. she’s beautiful… but one look at her profile and the flames in her eyes tell him all he needs to know: look the other way. ony grew up surrounded by strong black women in his life, his mom, sisters, aunts, cousins… learning to read body language and— well, the room, was something he learned quickly and he’s applied that lesson everywhere in life. everything about her body language and that cute, barely contained frown screams bad day. so he greets becca— who’s really a sweet girl, just unbothered— compliments her shoes, and moves on about his routine.

it’s like clockwork. he puts his stuff away, makes sure his chain is safe and secure, fills his water bottle, waves at mrs. etta on the treadmill, stretches, locks in, and gets the workout started.

he’s getting into his mode and enveloping himself in the feel of the workout, but he can’t help the way his eyes are pulled back to crys. the way she stretches, the way she adorably bobs her head to the seemingly… aggressive? music. she’s gorgeous and new, which has him feeling like every routine move he makes is just a little different. her and her angry pout and her curves and her curls…

she approachs a punching bag, which ony can admit he didn’t expect. the outfit convinced him she’d be power walking with mrs. etta, or doing pilates in the corner. his mom always told him what assuming does to someone, though. he looks away as he tries to focus on anything other than her. he counts his reps like usual, trying to submerge himself in his music. it doesn’t work. as soon as she takes her first swing, his eyes are back on her, taking notice of how she punches.

hm.

he can see she knows a bit more than someone just randomly choosing to throw a few hits, but he isn’t fond of some of the habits she has that could actually hurt in the long run. he debates approaching, but he’s always been one to help others in the gym. attitude be damned, he’s a personal trainer. he knows the importance of doing things correctly. after watching for a while, he decides to walk over. he knows that if she doesn’t fix her punch, she’ll be angry all over again tomorrow because of sore wrists. she turns, obviously annoyed, but he’s not scared. she looks him up and down, her facial expression barely shifting. he wonders what she’s thinking, wants to hear her voice. when she finally looks up at him with those eyes, he almost tilts his head.

how can someone be so fuckin’ pretty?

she’s a vision with her bare face. eyes he could get lost in, features he wants to admire for moments on end. he would actually guess that she’s quite sweet behind the haze of her frustration. obviously a multifaceted person, and he’s interested in the idea of learning all those facets. who she is, maybe what she likes, what she doesn’t like. maybe even what makes her happy, what would put a smile on the adorably scrunched up face. for some reason, he wants to see that happy expression. actually, as a matter of fact, he wants to see all her expressions. smiling, confused, relaxed, aroused. she’s caught him with a simple gaze and he’s confused about it.

“you actually know what you’re doing?” she asks. it’s not meant to be a jab, truthfully. she’s been hit on by guys that try to “help” just to flirt, but ultimately make a fool of themselves— and her for giving them the opportunity. she doesn’t have the patience for it today, it in fact might be the straw that breaks her back. she can see amusement tickle at his expression, but no signs of him being offended.

because he’s not. he can tell she isn’t asking in a facetious way, she just seems… tired. like she doesn’t want her time wasted. he can respect that. “I promise you, I do,” he says with a slight smile. just a little one, unable to contain his utter enjoyment in her sass, and still having that almost sickening feeling of attraction.

crys hums, her gaze sweeping over him again briefly, taking in his calm but confident demeanor. the little smile on his face is lowkey pissing her off, but she has enough sense to know it’s because she has a lot of stress to work out. he’s fine as hell and now’s really not the time for all that. even still, he’s bold to come over with the metaphorical storm still rolling above her head. bold… or stupid. who walks towards a burning house? but she knows if he could tell her form was off from so far, she could really be messing herself up with how she’s going at the punching bag. she wants to just kick and punch it randomly, similar to what her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist suggests, but she knows that’s no good. and again, he’s fine as hell.

all the same, she’s still irritated and frustration-filled. “sure, yeah,” she mumbles as she turns back to the bag.

ony’s quite intrigued, interestingly enough. he knows a person close to the brink when he sees one. he can see the irritation in her eyes and in the way her shoulders are set. her movements are stiff and her brows are still pinched, gorgeous even with the possibly dangerous amount of upset toiling in her. despite her tense demeanor, he can tell she’s still at least trying to be respectful. and he appreciates it.

“what’s your name?” he asks, shifting to stand next to her. she’s staring at the bag, itching to just punch. “crys,” she answers, sparing him a glance as she fixes the wrapping on her hands. she’s pulling it tight, her movements swift. she can feel him watching her intently and she doesn’t know how she feels about it.

he nods. “ony. I’m no expert but I can share a few tips to keep you from gettin’ hurt. mind if I touch you?” he asks, the question second nature from dealing with his clients. he knows better than to start without given permission, and he definitely knows he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of her irritation. “s’fine,” she answers, ignoring the very inappropriate response that her brain comes up with. not now, brain. nasty ass. she really just wants him to hurry up so she can go back to punching, but she supposes she can hold back for a few more minutes if it’s him that’s going to touch her. plus it’s important to do it right, and even through her upset she knows that and is grateful for his help. if he could just be a little faster, though, that’d be wonderful.

he approaches, gently taking her hand in his as he unwraps her binding. “it’s a good wrap, but they shouldn’t be too tight. you gone hurt yourself that way,” he mumbles. his hands move slowly, demonstrating to her as he explains. it’s not in the show off-y way she expected, but direct and intentional instead. she’s glad he’s helping but a part of her is focused a bit too much on how his hands feel, how calming his voice is. “you should be able to spread your fingers. this’ll save your wrists and then some, yeah?” he murmurs, gently tapping her hand. still upset, she hates how soothing the contact is. she doesn’t need soothing, she needs violence.

that… might be dramatic. she knows it. but the week’s frustrations have all built to this moment and she plans to take full advantage of the punching bag in front of her. if he doesn’t pick up the pace, he might just take its place, handsome or not. “gotcha,” she mutters. “can I hit the bag now?” ony chuckles, and she’s mad that she really likes the sound. “sure. do a couple jabs.”

she takes a deep breath, her focus zoning on the bag. his presence fades slightly as she begins going at it, a bit overzealous. he lets her take a few punches, seeing how she obviously needs it. his gaze sweeps her form, watching her hips swivel slightly as she swings. her hits start with a decently healthy form, but the more she gets into it, ony can tell her focus is slipping. “okay, hold,” he murmurs. she doesn’t hear him and continues punching. her breathing is picking up and the cute scrunch between her brows is deepening. “hold,” he says louder, getting her attention. she huffs and raises out of her stance, blowing a stray out of her face. she steps forward and holds the bag to stop its movements, looking over at him.

ony could almost laugh at the way the curl flops right back into place. swears he could almost see her eyebrow twitch. damn, who pissed her off? “you got some good habits and some bad habits,” he mumbles, standing parallel to her now. “need to swing your hips more, not push through your arm. pop the bag, don’t push your punch.” he moves slowly as he speaks, demonstrating his words with his movements. it’s easy to follow, but his muscles are stealing the show, to crys’ dismay. “I was doing that,” she mumbles in response because she indeed was. “mhm, at the beginning. the more you put in, the less you focus on your form,” he says as he returns to his earlier position, arms crossed. “go again,” he nods. “bossy,” she mumbles. she likes it. he’s giving proper tips and doesn’t really care about her attitude, seeming unaffected.

ony chuckles, seemingly knowing there’s no actual anger in her tone, at least not completely directed at him. crys supposes he’s right. when she gets in the flow, her mind focuses less on her form and more on the happenings of the week. she definitely could’ve weakened her stance, and his words bring memories of her previous instructor. he might not be an expert, but he knows what he’s saying for sure. she gets back into her stance and takes a few more hits, more focused on her form this time around. she can’t quite lose herself to the exercise with the newfound focus, and she doesn’t like it. “better,” ony calls out. “keep goin’.” so she does. she follows his instructions to a t, feeling a bit more comfortable with the continued form as she practices.

“nice, real nice,” he murmurs, shifting to hold the bag from behind. he notices the hesitation in her movements as she focuses on her form. “come on,” his deep voice encourages. “where that fire go, huh? tellin’ me you can’t fight and focus?” crys, probably feeling goaded, looks up to him for a moment. ony could laugh again at the look in her eyes, but he doesn’t. “don’t look at me, look at the bag. you mad, I know it. let it out,” he nods his head to the bag in his hands. he doesn’t have to tell her twice. she starts to hit with more vigor, putting more into her punches. “mhm, yeah. control that shit, stay tight. swivel your— there you go, exactly,” he encourages. she’s picking it up, movements smoother and becoming more confident by the minute.

shit’s sexy as fuck.

crys is actually starting to fuck with him more, feeling herself in the workout. the way he’s talking is having an affect on her, and she knows she’ll be thinking back on this very moment tonight. his voice is deep, and slightly raspy as she keeps at it, and the encouraging makes her wonder if he’s like that in… different circumstances. she can feel her breath picking up for several reasons. “had you mad as fuck, huh? had you fucked up?” ony questions, pushing her a bit more. “let that shit out, ma. ain’t doin’ you no good to hold it in.” they both know that he’s telling the truth. she was just about bursting at the seams and his encouragement is helping her tap back into that. she punches harder, small grunts falling from her lips. the week’s frustrations are pouring out of her now and she’s pushing herself so that she can get him out of her head.

the way he’s talking to her in her amped up state just shouldn’t be legal. she’s pretty sure he’s the type to talk his girl through it, probably tease and taunt to get a reaction. damn, she needs to get laid. “form,” he reminds as her focus slips. she gives a quick nod, readjusting herself quickly before taking another shot. ony likes how quickly she responds to his guidance. “hell yeah, you got that shit. keep goin’, mama. ain’t nobody fuckin’ with you, that’s for damn sure.”

damn his fine ass with his deep voice and his face and his pet name.

she keeps going until every ounce of upset is drained, listening to his encouragement and occasional shit talking at a particularly weak punch or slip of focus. she’ll be honest, she feels good. great, actually. she feels as if she actually knows what she’s doing, confident in her moves. the upset has trickled away, but its absence is leaving too much space to think about the man in front of her. his fine ass is pushing her in the way she likes and needs, encouraging but taunting just the way she likes it.

after several more minutes, she steps back, panting. “killed that shit,’ ony mumbles, double tapping the bag. she really did, the difference between her earlier attempts and now is stark. and all because of just a few pointers. he watches as she catches her breath and unwraps her hands. “you done?” he questions. he wasn’t expecting her to finish so soon, she was just getting in her groove. he was honestly expecting a few more rounds.

“yeah,” crys answers as she nods. “thanks for your help, really. just needed to blow off some steam.” feeling better now, she decides that she should finish out with her regular workout. the less angry she is, the more she focuses on that damn smirk on his face, the way his muscles move with each shift of his body, the birthmark she’s spotted on his jaw. she’s trying hard to resist the pull she feels as she catches her breath. she gets another chuckle from ony. “could tell. I almost didn’t even come over. bad day?”

crys gives a sheepish smile, sliding her wrap in her bag. ony likes the smile a lot, but he wants more. “my bad. bad week, actually,” the woman responds. ony shakes his head, uncrossing his arms. “no harm, I get it,” he responds. and he really does, most of the time people’s attitudes really have nothing to do with you. “you should keep at it though, you got good form. at least when you’re focused. with some more practice, you could easily make it muscle memory.” and I’d like to see you more, he thinks. crys smiles and nods. “think I will. thanks again for your help, woulda been pissed if I hurt myself.”

ony’s eyes trail over her features. with the metaphorical cloud gone, she’s shining brighter. her smile is gorgeous, revealing a small gap in her teeth and a crinkle by her eyes. yeah. fuckin’ beautiful. “course. can’t have you gettin’ mad again, yeah?” he laughs, the sound deep as it rumbles from his chest. crys playfully rolls her eyes. “whatever, ony. actin’ like I’m godzilla or something. you can gone back to your workout.”

the two separate, continuing their sessions. but their eyes continuously meet as they sneak glances at each other and they exchange flirty quips. crys questions the amount of weight ony chooses for his sets, teasing that she’d thought he’d lift more. ony calls her out for a weak rep, telling her she should start over for half-assing. they just can’t seem to get enough of each other, teasing and poking at one another like crushing kids in school.

crys is definitely eating their interactions up. he’s fun in a way that isn’t childish, regardless of how he makes her almost giddy like a teenage girl. he’s not afraid to go along with a joke, but it’s obvious he’s not one to be messed with. no matter how many shots she takes, no matter how much she teases, he never breaks a sweat. it’s almost as if he’s welcoming the challenge and crys is more than willing to indulge.

ony likes her fire. it’s invigorating and it keeps him on his toes. he’s used to women being like becca— fawning, overly sweet, and obviously interested. the push and tug he gets from crys is different, and he’s enjoying every interaction, every tease, every glance at that ass. she just draws him in and he can’t get enough. where the hell has she been and why are they just now meeting? he could’ve shown her a lot more than boxing tips by now.

for her cool down, crys decides that since the gym is pretty much empty, she can take some extra time to do some yoga and meditation. she zones in and takes a plethora of deep breaths, regulating her nervous system and releasing tension. grounding herself in the present moment and releasing stress, anxiety, and frustration. it definitely helps as a follow up to the punching bag. she’s always appreciated how centered she feels after even just a few minutes of reconnecting with herself, tending to her mind, heart, and soul and not just her body. she should definitely do yoga often to stay balanced, but shoulda woulda coulda.

the second she starts to stretch, ony’s eyes are stuck on her like glue. she stretches for a long time, he notices. it seems like some type of meditation, the way she holds her hands together and closes her eyes, highly focused as she takes deep breaths almost audible where he stands. it’s interesting how he can notice the shift she makes from her earlier demeanor. she’s much calmer, locked in in a way unexpected to him. of course he knows how to calm himself, how to regulate. but those stretches… not only is he sure he could never replicate them due to lack of flexibility, but he can see the intention in each move, seemingly in each muscle and breath.

it’s weird to him how pulled he feels in her direction. he just wants to know her and is curious if she’d give him the chance. and of course he wants to know her body too… he could definitely help her relieve a lot of that stress. over and over again. probably until she couldn’t take anymore. something about her just keeps pulling him back in. maybe he’s just interested in her newness with his life currently feeling a bit more dull, but he knows he’d be just as interested if it wasn’t. she has spice, a good sense of humor, sweetness, she’s undoubtedly beautiful with all her little quirks, and that ass is the kind that a man would go to war for.

seriously.

especially with the way she’s sitting and stretching with her legs wide, chest flush against the floor. it’s making ony have thoughts, and a lot of them. after a while of being unable to stop looking, he decides to walk over. he stands above her with his arms crossed, head tilting as he looks down at her. “how the hell you even doin’ allat?” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself. and what else can she do? he wonders.

crys laughs in response, still enjoying the feel of the stretch. “I do it often. years of youtube videos, I guess,” she responds. she raises, intentionally moving slow for the practice. it’s just a bonus that she can feel his eyes on her ass. “sit down,” she grins, looking up at him with mischief in her eyes. he had his turn helping her, and now she’s going to do the same. whether he likes it or not. plus, it’d be real nice to spend some more time with him. she likes his presence and his laugh and his little jokes. his looks, his demeanor, the way he’s not scared when she nips at him instead either remains unaffected or nips right back… kind of everything about him, so far at least. “huh?” he asks, eyebrows raising. “nigga, if you can ‘huh’ you can hear. sit down and stretch with me,” she laughs.

ony likes the sound. a lot, he realizes. and her sass really tickles him. so why not? he shrugs, plopping down on the floor next to her.

“yoga’s more than stretchin’,” she begins. “yeah, it feels good for the body, but it’s good for the mind too. it’s a lot deeper than I can explain. it’s one of those things that’s been taken from another culture and kinda wiped of its authenticity.” he watches her as she talks with her hands, her caring a lot more about it than he expected. but he’s interested and following along with her words. “I try to respect it, y’know? it has a lot of benefits. can I touch?” she asks with a tilt of her head. he appreciates how her curls bounce with the movement and gives a simple nod of his head. “sit up straight,” she adjusts his back. “and keep your focus on your breath, keeping an awareness of your body as well. stay mindful of the present moment.”

the moment her hand touches him, he sits up. not because of her words but because of the feel of her hands on him. she’s gentle with her guidance, her touch almost hesitant and her voice has softened in a way that sends a slight chill down his spine. “sorry, are my hands cold?” she asks apologetically. “as fuck,” he answers with a laugh. “keep goin’ though.” crys laughs and pinches him softly. “aht, aht, I’m the teacher now, I give the directions. straighten out your legs.” ony rolls his eyes in response but follows her instruction. he mumbles a soft “yeah, aight.”

she gently bumps her shoulder against his at his sass. “lean forward and reach for your feet, curving your back. take a moment to center yourself, focusing on your breath and how your body feels. don’t think about anything, not even me,” she teases slightly. ony can’t help but smile at that. “you make it difficult, sweetheart,” he mumbles. her stomach flutters in response. he takes a deep breath before closing his eyes, reaching for his feet. “don’t forget to breath, nice and deep. relax your mind and let your thoughts fade away,” she mutters softly. “relax. really feel the peace and the stretch.”

oh, ony feels something, alright. but he focuses his mind on the way his muscles feel. he’s used to stretching, but the mental part has never been the most important aspect. he likes how quiet his mind is, how the peace envelopes him like a warm hug.

she guides him through several more positions, helping him to stay centered mentally. her voice is so soothing, her touch as she adjusts him doing things to him. he feels good. really good. the combination of the practice with her presence is something he intends to make sure he gets more of. she’s so cute with her little chides. a “stretch deeper, ony” here, a “you’re not even trying” there. and her obvious favorite, “you know you can do better than that”. actually, no, her favorite thing to say in reprimand is his name. it’s a pleasant hint of flirting and teasing mixed with gentle guidance and words of calm.

by the end of the night, ony’s hooked. before she can walk to the locker room, he gently grabs her wrist to get her attention. “hey, wait, ma,” he murmurs softly. she looks up at him with those eyes again and he’s suddenly parched. “can I get your number? you know, I can send you some boxing tips.” crys tries to fight a smile but fails. “oh, really? boxing tips? sure, long as I can send some yoga tips.” he laughs a bit, smiling at her tone. “yeah, send ‘em. gotta be on my namaste more, shit was nice.” crys tilts her head back slightly as she laughs. “boy, whatever. here.”

ᥫ᭡

crys is folding. real bad.

at first, she thought she’d just do some light flirting, maybe just tease and taunt and go on about her merry way. she didn’t have any intentions on really following through with the man because he just seems like a threat to her safe, protected little bubble of diy nails and chilling alone at home. but as time goes on, she realizes that she’s in a quicksand situation. swapped informational videos of boxing and yoga are just the beginning. soon, they’re texting back and forth. funny videos sent at way too late at night, a range of questions exchanged as they get to know each other, random voice messages that make her stomach tingle… she looks forward to speaking with him, even changes his text tone so she knows when it’s him.

he’s just so funny in such a simple, straightforward way. sometimes she bites at him and he doesn’t budge a bit, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction. sometimes they go back and forth like a tennis match. he’s not afraid of her sass and she loves when he actually bites back. he’s just… attractive. in a lot of ways, on so many different levels. she ends up going to the gym late more often because he’ll be there, spotting her while she lifts and helping her with her boxing. ms. becca at the front desk seems to really not like it, but her non-working ass can move on somewhere. crys and ony start a routine that whenever she comes to work out with him, they grab food and sit in one of their cars to goof around. they even decide to power walk with mrs. etta every now and then.

it’s insanity to kt, though. she doesn’t understand why they haven’t ‘fucked each other like bunnies’ already and she reminds crys every time they talk. they’d scrolled his instagram together several times and he’s a popular topic between the two of them, three including kt’s boyfriend. he, of course, has a front row seat to these conversations since ms. kt never wants to use her damn headphones.

one particular night, crys is just really not feeling the workout. she’s more tired than usual and ony can tell. she’s not her usual, witty self. not a single jab has any bite to it, and it’s the same with her words. he doesn’t like it. she’s not supposed to be quiet or sad. he doesn’t like the distant look in her eyes and how she gives a weak smile at his teasing. “hey,” he murmurs. “go get changed and get your stuff.” he watches as she looks up at him with a furrowed brow. “you’re obviously not feelin’ up to it. we’ve done enough, let’s grab sum to eat.”

crys was going to push through, get her workout regardless. “nah, I’m good,” she shrugs him off. “no, you ain’t. quit playin’, it’s not a suggestion,” he grumbles back. that surprises her, but she guesses it shouldn’t really. one thing that she’s noticed is how good he is at reading people, and he’s really good at reading her now. he knows when to push, and has learned how to in several different circumstances. she guesses this is one of them. his tone is different than usual though. it’s set, no room for negotiations, no joking around. his eyes are focused and sharp in a way that almost even she doesn’t want to argue with. “…right. yeah, okay. I can go by myself though, you can finish your workout,” she mutters softly.

“what I say?”

crys didn’t need to be told again. his whole demeanor is looking more immovable than ever, eyes and tone telling her to get her ass to the locker room, basically. if it were anyone else, she would’ve fired back and asked who the hell he thought he was. but at this point, she’s too tired and she really doesn’t want to poke the bear. so she sighs and nods, grabbing her bag as she shuffles back to the locker room to get her stuff. she’s grateful, honestly, because as soon as she sits in the passenger seat of his car, she feels like she’s been hit by a bus but it’s really just a wave of exhaustion.

“you pushin’ too hard, ma,” he murmurs, his eyes on the road as he drives. he’s seen her energy decreasing over time, the spark in her eyes dimming. he’d slide a comment in or two about taking a break only for her to brush it off like it was no problem. she’s stubborn and he knows that, but fully capable of taking care of herself, which is why he wasn’t expecting it to get this far. she’s drained and he’ll be damned if he just stands by and watches her continue down this path. especially with the way her head is leaning against his window. usually he’d say something about her hair products getting on it, but he couldn’t give a damn about that.

“you been slackin’ and you know it. wassup?” he questions as he spares her a glance. she sighs, her eyes closing as he makes the familiar trip to their usual spot. “stress. I’ve just been stressed,” she answers. that much he could tell. it’s not really the information he’s looking for though. “mhm. why?” he presses. his voice is a mix of tenderness and concern but also firmness. he’s not going to let her brush this under the rug. “just a lot of shit goin’ on, ony. work’s a mess, they can barely do anything without me there they’re always arguing and never getting anything done. I’ve been looking for another job for months with no luck and it’s really starting to become a problem because I want to leave soon. and I don’t know, I just want to be in a different situation than I am right now.”

ony hums, rolling her words over in his head. he knows she’s been trying to leave her job, even sent her resume out to a few people he knows just to help out. he can understand her frustration, he was in a similar boat before he started his own thing and became a personal trainer. he gets it, the stress from working in a place that drains you and how so many job rejections can affect a person. “it’s alright, ma. I know that don’t mean much to you right now, but it’s gone work out, aight? I’ll put some pressure on my folks, help see what’s out there. you still got some pto right?” he asks. she sighs, rubbing her forehead. “yeah, but I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.” he could almost chuckle.

“it don’t seem like it’s rainin’ to you?” he pushes slightly. “take some time off. rest and relax so you can come back better. do yo yoga and shit, smoke some, whatever. you need a break, babygirl. no positive change is gonna come from you stressin’ and burnin’ out. it’s a three day weekend coming up, take the couple days before that off too.” she looks out the window as they pull into the drive thru. he’s right and she knows it. it’s just so easy for her to get swept up into the stress and lose herself a little bit more and more until she realizes just how close she is to burning out. she can feel tears gathering in her eyes from the stress.

“oh, pretty girl,” he mumbles, seeing the emotion in her eyes. he pulls off to the side and parks in the back of the lot instead of getting in line. “c’mere, crystal,” he croons, reaching an arm around her to pull her close. she sniffles and her shoulders shake as she cries into his shoulder, letting out what she’s let build up for so long. “s’okay, ma. you really doin’ good shit, providin’ for yourself and workin’ hard. it’s gonna work out, you gotta believe that,” he presses, squeezing her tighter. “but you can’t do this, okay? you can’t wither away like this. your health is important and if you neglect it, it’ll affect everything. I don’t like seein’ you upset and tired and drained. wanna see that pretty smile, get a taste of that sass that irks me so much.” she laughs slightly in his arms, her own wrapping around him as he gives her the most comforting hug she’s had in a while. “you’re right or whatever. big headed ass,” she mumbles.

“there she is.”

ᥫ᭡

after that night, she did exactly what he suggested. she took those extra days off and just recovered. smoked, slept a whole bunch, had a self-care day, and even booked a massage just for an extra treat. of course she talked ony’s ear off, and texted him and her best friend a bunch too, but it was necessary in her eyes. she knows they love her presence, even if they call her annoying. by her last day off, she feels rejuvenated.

she feels less stressed. she has a revamped resume, a mini twist out that’s cute and lets her leave her hair alone, new nails, and a new attitude. but… crys is running out of excuses to give as far as her and ony. his support that night meant more to her than he probably even knew. the way he held her, calmed her down, and comforted her… it’s something that’s been plaguing dancing in her mind. he’s shown that he can handle her full range of emotions no problem and can support her regardless of how strongly she feels. at this point, even she’s started to wonder why they haven’t done anything. she hasn’t made a move, no, but neither has he. he seems perfectly content with the way things are and is starting to become bothersome.

she can’t get him out of her head. his voice, his laugh, his features. every time he encourages her while she’s going at the punching bag, she wants to push the damn thing out of the way and just tackle him. when she can feel his eyes on her while they stretch, she wants to show him exactly what she can do and how her flexibility can blow his fucking mind. she wants to kiss him, touch him, hear those encouraging words that he gives her in an entirely different setting.

but his lack of action is causing her to overthink. is he not as affected as she is? does his heart not pound in her presence like hers does in his? how the hell is she the only one gnawing her lip at the thought of more? maybe it’s because she hasn’t had sex in so long. maybe that’s it. she’s just like this because of her wack ass sex life.

contrary to crys’ perspective, though, ony is losing his shit.

he definitely would’ve made a move by now if these were usual circumstances. he’s just so thrown off by how much he likes her, how much she makes him feel. she’s so much more than that pretty face and that mouth watering body. she’s funny, witty, and she packs a nasty ass punch both with her words and her hands. he likes the full range of crys. mouthy and annoying, intentionally trying to get a raise out of him. flirty and teasing, sensual in the way she draws him in. sweet and serene, almost like an oasis of calm and tranquility. oh, and he can’t forget how expressive she is with every emotion. her anger when her order’s wrong at the late night burger place they frequent, her excitement and joy when mrs. etta tells her about another good scan at the doctor, her sadness when she sees a sad tiktok during rest periods.

he just doesn’t get it. how can one person be so damn enthralling? how can someone’s quirks and flaws be so beautiful? he’s never felt pulled like this, but you know what? he’s fucking with it. she’s done nothing but add color to his life, a great addition that he felt like he was waiting for without even knowing. he loves her presence. she makes him smile and belly laugh, she pisses him off, she lights him up. he can be goofy with her, serious, sensitive even. he just wants more and more of crys, and even when he thinks maybe there’s nothing left to surprise him about her, she whips something new out of her arsenal. it’s just crazy how she has him by the throat but he’s happy to be along for the ride.

but he’s really wanting that ride to go somewhere. he’s always thought that it was crazy that crys is single, he just doesn’t understand it. in his eyes, she’s everything great in a woman. confident, sensitive, hardworking, sweet… annoying but in the best ways, enthralling, sexy as all hell.

when he’s ranting to eren about her for the nth time, the brunette raises an eyebrow at him and asks what’s taking him so long to ask her out. ony blinks. he thought they were… well, something already. but the sense that’s been chasing him for quite a while now finally catches up to him and hits him like a truck. he has to say something. do something. the unspoken thing doesn’t work for adults, and definitely not if he actually wants to keep her. is he an idiot? he wants to say no to his own question so badly, but he knows he would be delusional if he did.

so he quickly decides to get his shit together. the next time he sees crys, he’s asking her on an actual date, and that’s it. this whole thing could’ve been at a different point if he’d taken his head out of his ass and asked her out that first night he saw her in the gym. but it’s too late to try to change the past, and he can fix his mistakes in the present.

ᥫ᭡

unfortunately for ony, crys has a nasty attitude the next time they meet. her answers are short and snippy, and not in the usual, fun way. they had plans to go shopping together to buy mrs. etta a congratulatory something for completing her treatment, both having become extremely fond of the lady and being supportive of her on her journey. ony picks her up, being the gentleman he is (he hates her driving) and it takes no time at all to notice the bitter air around her. he actually realizes it the second she closes the door to her townhouse too damn hard. she huffs and puffs as she gets settled in the passenger seat.

crys doesn’t really know exactly why she’s so mad. it’s another one of those days where the stress has built up so quickly without her noticing, something that happens when her head isn’t fully in the game. she doesn’t want to take it out on ony, never means to, but something about knowing that he can handle that shit keeps her from being as mindful as she should be. “hey,” he speaks, his eyebrow raising at her lack of greeting. “hey,” she greets blandly. “what’s wrong, ma?” he asks, looking from her to the road as he pulls off. she just shakes her head. “thanks for picking me up,” she murmurs. “of course,” he responds.

he’s eyeing her every once in a while, trying to pick up on whatever he can. she’s fiddling a lot, tapping her fingers as she looks out the window. antsy? irritated? what is it, he wonders. but he’s not super fond of playing the guessing game, by now she should know that she can talk to him about any and everything on her mind and in her heart. he’ll listen, he’ll care, and he’ll support. hasn’t he shown that? “you lyin’ to me, ma. don’t like it,” he mumbles. she doesn’t answer and he really doesn’t like that. “what’s the issue, crys? talk,” he presses, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. this isn’t anything he’s used to from her. mouthy sometimes? sure. that’s nothing he can’t handle. but the silent treatment mixed with the tense attitude is not how he was planning to spend this time with her.

“nothin’, just tired.” she murmurs. his eyebrows furrow. “we can reschedule if you want,” he responds, understanding. “nah,” she says simply. she can’t explain it, she doesn’t really want to act like this. she’s just not exactly happy at the moment and the two seem to have very different vibes. guess that’s the theme, huh? she thinks. “mama, you not bein’ fair. tryna talk to you,” he mumbles. she rolls her eyes, looking out the window. “yeah, talk. your favorite thing to do,” she mumbles.

ony pauses, but only for a moment. “and that’s supposed to mean?” crys sighs, as if she’s really just over him. “nothing, ony, m’sorry. are we goin’ to macy’s or ross first?” she’s trying to deflect, and although ony’s not stupid, he lets her. maybe she just needs time, she can be like that every now and then. carrying around irritation from an earlier incident until it eventually fades and she’s good to go. sometimes she just needs to process her emotions, and ony’s cool with that. he’s cool with anything with her, it seems.

they end up at ross first, mrs. etta’s favorite store that she talks about when they power walk with her. they get her random things, little trinkets that remind them of her, lotions and candles, and a few decorative pieces for her house. they move to macy’s to get her a perfume she likes, and a few other random things that draw their attention. last is dollar.25 tree and a couple other craft stores, the mission being to grab a big basket and additional stuffing to make her a custom gift basket with a congratulatory card from both of them. crys is quieter than usual the entire time, but not necessarily agitated. it seems like shopping for mrs. etta is cheering her up.

seems.

once they get to her house, ony can tell by the way she groans as she flops onto her couch that she’s not a hundred percent. at this point, he’s confused and maybe a bit worried. what is it that has her so upset? he doesn’t like when she’s quiet, much rather her be loud and expressive with whatever emotion she’s feeling. it’s eerie when she’s quiet and ony can’t tell what she’s thinking or feeling. he doesn’t like to be in the dark.

“c’mon, ma, let’s go ahead and get this assembled. we can talk and smoke after,” he mumbles, moving to set the stuff down on her dining room table. he wants to sit and smoke, get her to shake herself out of whatever fucking funk she’s in, but he figures it’s a good idea to finish up mrs. etta’s gift. he really wants it to be perfect. he’s known mrs. etta for a while, she was even one of the people that encouraged him the most when he first started training, and he’s extremely happy that her treatment is done. a bratty sigh is heard from the girl on the couch and ony has to close his eyes to center himself. “we can’t take a break? all that shopping. m’tired.”

ony licks his lips and lets out a breath. “sure, ma, take a break. imma get started on this, I’ll chill after,” he responds. crys doesn’t like the little breath he takes, his tone coming across patronizing to her. “you tired of me? cause I can really do that shit by myself,” she responds lowly. she swears she can see a vein appear on ony’s forehead, but only momentarily. “nah. just want this gift to be good,” he mumbles. crys sits up to look at him. “it’s good already, we put a lot of thought into everything. what, you think I can’t assemble it myself?” her head tilts. because she could make the prettiest damn basket all on her own, really. she’ll prove it if she has to.

ony’s on the brink. he’s been patient all day— he’s always patient with her. it’s usually no issue, but today she’s really pushing it. mrs. etta should be the focus right now. “you don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” she asks, her eyebrows beginning to furrow. “yes, love, I hear you,” he murmurs. “just focused.” he’s really trying to keep it together.

crys scoffs, “yeah, well, you can focus and talk. you wouldn’t have to focus as much if you waited on me.” ony wonders what he did to be in this position. he hasn’t done shit to her, hasn’t said anything disrespectful, and he knows that she isn’t usually one to take her shit out on him, so he’s just thinking. wondering what has her so mad. “there you go again, not fuckin’ responding,” she huffs, standing up and crossing her arms. “you can just get the hell out forreal, I can finish this mysel—“

“sit the fuck down.”

crys blinks. and then blinks again. “excuse me?” she asks. she couldn’t have heard that right. he wouldn’t talk to her like that, he’s not insane. but the look he gives when he turns to her gives her second thoughts on that theory. “you heard me. sit the fuck down. I’m not leavin’ and you’re about to act like you have some fucking respect instead of poppin’ off at the mouth. I’ve dealt with your shit ask damn day, trying to be patient and understanding— like I always am with yo lil ass. I’m not playin’ crys. sit down,” he demands. and he really means that shit too, she can tell.

crys’ jaw is damn near on the floor by the time he finishes talking. “who you talkin’ t—“ she starts, only to be interrupted by a slow approaching ony, having put the materials he was working with down. “crys, I swear, if you don’t get some act right—“ he starts, trying to keep his breath even and his body calm. tired of being interrupted, crys decides to give him a taste of his own medicine. “what? what you gone do? talk my ear off? stand there and look at me with your arms crossed? I ain’t scared of you, ony. you don’t do shit and won’t do shit to me.”

“nah. I’ma fuck you,” he answers as he steps into her personal space. if crys’ jaw was on the floor before, it’s in hell now. there’s no way he just said that. “fuck that nasty ass attitude right outta you. you playin’ in my face, ma. you know I don’t like that shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ understanding with yo ass, somethin’ not every nigga is willin’ to do, by the way. you push and you push and I let yo ass. is that the problem?” he tilts his head, chest almost touching hers as he looks down. his eyes are dark, his jaw tense. the vein she thought she saw earlier is bulging now, almost angrier than ony himself. “is the problem that I let yo lil ass keep pushin’ me? cause I swear it don’t mean that I’ll just let the shit slide. and I’ll prove that shit too.”

ᥫ᭡

“fuck,” crys pants, tugging on the sheets in front of her. “please,” her voice breaks. “just— just lemme come. I’m so close, ony, please!”

she’s been on all fours for a while now, face buried in the bed as ony works her with his tongue and fingers. she’s in a pool of her own arousal, thighs wet and pussy drenched from the several times she’s been close to the edge, only to be disappointed each time as she’s denied her orgasm. her bottom lip is bitten raw, toes almost permanently curled and eyes finding a home in the back of her head as she pushes her hips back again and again to coax ony to at least let her have one. if she knew this was going to be the result of her attitude today, she would’ve just asked him to fuck her before they even left to go shopping. she’s waited enough for this, and even now when she’s so close, she’s getting denied.

there’s a harsh but absolutely welcome smack to her ass and she whines so damn pathetically that ony almost laughs. pulls his full lips from her clit with a pop and massages the cheek. “you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice low and raspy in a way unfamiliar to crys. she quickly shakes her head and grips the sheets tighter. “no, please! keep going, wanna come on your face,” she begs, pushing her hips to meet his lips again. the sound and sight of her is addicting, ony thinks. he likes the way she seems so desperate for his touch and tongue, craving that release that he’s been building up for so long. “you wanna come?” he asks, his fingers sliding back into her soaked pussy. he can feel her clench around him almost instantly. fuck he’s going to enjoy tonight. “yes! yes, wanna come!” she pants, rocking her hips to meet the thrust of his long fingers.

“then shut the fuck up and let me have my fun,” he murmurs, diving his face back in as his tongue meets her clit once again. “ah, shit,” she whimpers, her eyes rolling back again at the pleasure that washes over her. “yes, yes, just like that. fuck, you eatin’ my pussy up,” she moans. she’s never been so mad but so pleased at the same time. he’s torturing her and she doesn’t know how much longer she can last before she releases all over him without his say so. she’s already been through so much, she doesn’t want to find out what else he’ll do , even if it’s his fault. “my fuckin’ pussy,” he pulls back to murmur, flicking his tongue quickly over her pearl as his fingers continue to pump. she’s so wet, his fingers move with ease, and the sound that’s made is delicious. “say that shit.”

“fuck, I’ll say whatever you want,” she whines, back arching and toes throwing up gang signs. “s’your pussy, baby! take it take it take it,” she moans, throwing her ass back over and over. she’s so damn close, so damn close. she can almost taste it. her tummy feels like it’s about to burst and her poor pussy is sobbing. he pulls back once again to her dismay, reading her body like a book. “you betta not fuckin’ come,” he murmurs, fingers moving faster as they stretch her. how the hell is she not supposed to come? is he insane? “you fuckin’ kidding meee?” she whines, her head falling down onto the sheets. ony likes how spent she looks already, and he hasn’t even fucked her yet. “you know damn well I ain’t,” he grumbles, smacking her ass again. “arch that shit. it’s gone be a long night if you don’t listen to me, baby.”

in a turn of events, ony’s pussy drunk. he’s enjoying himself way too much, taking in her moans and slurping up what’s now his to pleasure. he’s just drowning in her, hands exploring everywhere he can touch. caressing, appreciating, adoring this beautiful woman falling apart on his tongue. he could do this all day and be grateful every second of it. he’s absolutely aching in his shorts, but something about bringing such a normally mouthy girl to babbles is too hard to turn away from. he didn’t even mean to take it this far, he just doesn’t want to stop. he wants her to keep feeling good, and the way she begs and reaches back for him to bring him closer lets him know that he’s doing his job

“please, I can’t,” she begs, back arching but breath deepening. “ony, I caan’tt, m’gonna come,” she whines. she’s trying, really she promises she is, but it’s just become too hard to hold out. it’s too good, she wants it and needs it. if he doesn’t stop or give her the green light, she’s gonna make a mess of both of them, and she’s not going to regret it. ony groans at her whines, basking in the sound of her begging and pleading. he can feel how she’s clenching, hears the desperation in her voice. she’s gone, melting into a pile of goo at his touch, and he’s never felt more satisfied. not only are they both having the times of their lives, but that attitude is just about gone and she’s actually acting like she has some fucking manners.

he reluctantly pulls back and removes his hand from her, licking at his fingers like a man starved. “flip over,” he huffs, standing and palming his aching dick. she seems to be too out of it, raising her head full of messy curls to look up in his general direction. “w-what?” she questions. ony doesn’t have time for her shit, so he grabs her hips and flips her over his damn self. the way he looks down at her is downright sinful and crys flutters simply at the sight. “fuckin’ bratty ass. you did this to yourself, crys. was gonna take you on a nice ass date, make love with your pretty ass, do shit the right way. but that fuckin’ mouth of yours,” he grumbles as he grabs her by her ankles, pulling her to the end of the bed. “is too damn bold with me. gotta fix that, sweetheart. you gone be my good girl after tonight, I can promise you that.”

she whines and grinds against his hand as his thumb traces circles on her puffy clit. looking down at her, he realizes that this is one of his favorite sights now. her eyes are blurry with tears from the constant denial, her face scrunched in a cute and sexy pout of pleasure, her tits shifting with each movement. ony could watch her like this all day, bringing her to the edge over and over just to see those pretty tears fall and hear that voice of hers crack. that’d only be torture for himself as well because he feels like he’s about to burst. “you so damn beautiful. you want this dick, sweetheart? tell me, I’ll give it to you,” he murmurs, licking his lips as he lets his shorts fall. crys whines and nods, unruly curls all over the place. so damn breathtaking.

“gimme it, please. wanna come all over it, baby. paint it for you,” she begs. her arms reach to hook around the back of her knees, pulling her thighs back slightly to open up for him. her words only serve to rile him up more. “you a lil freak, huh? mmm, you can do better than that, baby. stretch them legs like I know yo lil freaky ass can,” he grumbles, pulling his underwear down and off, his cock hanging low between his legs. crys knew it— she just knew it was big, and she was right. it’s long and thick with a minimal curve, and if she wasn’t so deprived she’d get on her knees and pay him back for the teasing. she whimpers and bites her lip, sliding her hands to hook behind her knees instead. she pulls her thighs flush to her chest and keeps going, extending her legs.

“fuck, yeah, baby, show me that pretty pussy. fat pussy all mine,” he grumbles. he lessens their distance, letting himself rest on her as he takes her in. what a fucking vision of a woman. he takes his dick in his hand and lightly taps it against her before her rubs himself all in her wetness. “look at ‘chu, baby. so fuckin’ sloppy. this all for me?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks back to her face. she goes to speak, but ony considers her next words unimportant in the grand scheme of things. before she can speak, she feels him start to press into her. she lets out a breathy moan, her grip tightening on her legs. “f-fuck,” she moans at the same time ony lets a groaning “shiiit,” pass his lips.

the two pant, looking each other in the eyes as he continues to press forward. crys is seeing stars, feeling the stretch of him. her face scrunches and her eyes begin to close. “mm-mm, keep them pretty eyes on me,” ony‘s breathing heavy , his hand coming to lightly wrap around her throat. “sexy ass. you bet not deny me that shit.” crys can only lick her lips, forcing her eyes open to meet his, clenching at the way he speaks. his words add to the growing fire within her. “there you go, baby. love that shit,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press his lips against hers in a nasty, sloppy kiss. crys is upset at the fact that this man is really bringing her to her knees. “so damn fine. don’t know why I waited so long to be in yo shit. too fucking good,” he groans, pulling out just slightly before pushing back in. crys gasps, pulling her legs closer just to have something to grab, but it just makes him go deeper.

“feels so good, onyyy,” she moans, keeping the eye contact as much as she can. ony’s hovering over her now, watching her with his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows together in concentration. he’s moving slowly, letting her adjust to him and just taking in the view in front of him. “onyyy,” she moans, clenching around him as her pussy flutters. he’s so damn fine and it’s been so long since she’s been touched. he’s deep in her shit and she’s on cloud nine. she wants more, so much more, and she wants it all from him. she hates it took so long to get to this point and hates that she the fact that she stopped herslef from persuing him. she wants this, needs all of him. “fuck me,” she chokes out. “c’mon, please.”

“relax,” he mutters, his free hand rubbing up her thigh. “just keep that pretty pussy open for me. I’ma always give you what you need, sweetheart. always.” and he means it. he’s never going to play with her, not her heart or her mind. but he’ll play with her pretty pussy until the sun comes up, until the cows come home. he’s never felt anything so good, seen someone so beautiful while they take his dick. she’s everything to him in this moment, her curls sprawled around her like the sun’s halo, face showing all the pleasure she’s feeling. her breathing is deep, her eyes staying on his just like he said.

he’s fucked. shit, he might just be in love.

“ooo, fuck, ony,” she keens, her nails slightly digging into the skin of her thigh. “so big. oh my God, baby.” she’s having the time of her life. he’s stretching her so well, and he feels so damn good digging into her like that. ”yeah, yeah. been waiting for thisss,” she pants, unable to keep her mouth shut. it’s just so good and it’s hitting that spot. would could blame her? “give it to me,” she moans. ony groans above her, his hips starting to meet hers sharper and sharper. she’s still so vocal, and he’s eating it the fuck up. “mhm,” he breathes, his hands moving to rest on hers, helping to hold her legs as she falters. “take that dick, babygirl. s’all for you. swear it is,” he groans. she doesn’t know it, but she could ask for just about anything right now and he’d give it to her.

her eyes scan over him, her hand reaching out to lightly scratch down his abdomen. “fuckin’ me so good, ony.”ony groans at the touch of her nails, his gut tightening at the way she’s looking up at him. he pulls out, reaching down to tap himself against her again. she’s too much, her voice, her eyes, her touch… the way she keeps clenching around him. “you fuckin’ dangerous, mama,” he pants. “can I beat this pussy up, baby? lemme take it.” crys bites her lip and nods, looking up at him in a way that makes him grip her thighs a little tighter. fucking minx. he’s beating himself up for not doing this sooner. he adjusts himself on the bed, leaning down to press his lips to hers as he slides back in, the two of them moaning into each other's mouths. he immediately picks up the pace as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling slightly as he presses more of his weight onto her.

crys starts to gasp with each thrust, toes curling and a squeak escaping her when she feels his hands on her clit. “w-wait— fuck, wait, m’gonna come quick,” she moans, fingers gripping ony’s shoulders as he pins one of her thighs to her chest. she wants to come with him, but her earlier pleasure is coming back with a fucking vengeance. ony chuckles— actually chuckles, and rasps down to her, “that’s the point, sweetheart. give it to me.” if she wasn’t on the brink of a mind blowing orgasm, she’d be pissed and annoyed at that fucking smirk. but instead she pants and pants until her breath stops. her orgasm washes over her in delicious waves, and she’s just frozen in pleasure, unable to do anything but come and come, pulsing around ony.

“breathe, mama. come on, breath through that shit,” ony guides, pressing kisses up and down her neck. right, breathing. she forgot about that. crys lets out a long moan, her eyes rolling back as she tastes her sweet release. sweet isn’t even the word, though. the denial and delay just makes things ten times stronger, her orgasm wracking her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. she’s holding onto ony tightly as he talks her through it, breathing heavy as she just takes it. “yeaah, there you go. breathe, baby, I got you. gonna take real good care of you just like I said,” ony grumbles, nipping at her skin here and there and slowing his thrusts and his assault on her clit. he has to pant at the way she’s so tight around him, and he’s just so strained holding back good open release. “you deserve that shit, baby.” more kisses and nips than either of them can count are placed on crys’ neck as crys comes down and tries to calm down as well.

his hand reaches to gently caress her cheek as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the other. “you’re so beautiful, babygirl. you feel okay?” he asks softly. okay? she’s riding down a fucking rainbow of happiness and bliss. okay is an understatement. crys figures that would boost his who a bit too much, so she just tilts her head to rest on the side of his. “mhm,” she hums breathlessly. “so good,” she murmurs. ony’s glad, pressing more kisses to her sweet face. he’s happy he can make her feel good, especially considering how she was sarlier in the day. “good enough to gimme another one?” he asks. he just can’t get enough, so he has to ask. he wants this night to last as long as it can.

crys lets out a breath, wondering just what the hell is wrong with the man. she’s been through the wringer for a good while now. but it’s felt amazing every step of the way, so the answer is yes. of course it’s yes. she nods. “just one more, sweetheart,” he croons, looking down at her dazed face. he pulls out, turning her over onto her stomach, much gentler this time. he guides her on all fours and reaches to rest his hand on the headboard, his other hand positioning himself once again. once he begins to push inside, his arm wraps around her torso to hold her tight as they both moan. his hips start to move again, this time with a slower pace as he braces himself on the headboard.

ony can’t help but feel the shift on the room. it’s much more intimate than before, crys sensitive from one release already. he wants to be so many things for her. he can be a little aggressive, knowing she likes when he bites back. he can be goofy and unserious. and he can be soft. he can be serious with her and about her. that’s what he wants. “wanted this for so long, baby. wanted you,” he murmurs into her ear. the sound makes her pussy flutter, causing him to chuckle again. “sh-shut up,” she mumbles, her hands slowly tightening around the sheets below them. the combination of his intimate confession and his thrusting into her is a double whammy that she didn’t see coming.

“mmm, I’m serious babygirl. want you, been wantin’ you,” he presses, eyes falling shut as his hips continue to move. she feels so good, it’s ridiculous. he’s going to be in it every day if she lets him. “gotta make you mine, ma. I’m forreal.” and he is, because what kind of idiot would he be to let her slip through his fingers? crys let’s her head fall back in a moan as he starts to gently work her clit. everything about this is just insane. who knew what today was going to bring? “y-you never… ah,” she cuts herself off with a moan as he curves his hips, fucking her in just the right way in such an intimate moment. fuck, what was she saying? “I never said anything, I know. s’my fault, no excuse. I was just too busy enjoyin’ bein’ around you,” he murmurs, moaning as he holds her tighter. his hips are starting to move a bit faster and crys is starting to meet his every thrust.

“but you mine now, right? I’ma do— fuuuck, I’ma do right by you, mama. always,” he groans. he means every word. it’s like she has a spell on him and he doesn’t care. if she wants his heart, she can take it. he leans back from the headboard, sitting up on his knees as he keeps her back against his chest. gosh, crys’ heart just flutters. “yeah,” she moans. “yeah, ony, m’yours. f-finally.” that puts a tired smile on ony’s face, his already racing heart squeezing. with one hand massaging her clit and the other now on her hip, ony begins fucking into her faster. “that’s right, baby. and I’m yours. can’t get rid of me, can’t push me away, sure as fuck not scarin’ me away,” he groans. i’d important to him that she knows that, with her lil stubborn ass.

crys reaches back behind her, grabbing onto him. “yeah, j-just like that, ony. me and youuu,” she moans, feeling that familiar sensation again. her body’s almost tired of it after so much teasing and edging and repeating. “gonna come for you, baby,” she groans. she has no fight left, it’s going to rock her and she knows it. “you gonna come for me?” he asks, his voice coming out breathy as he continues to thrust into her. he doesn’t remember the last time he felt as good as he does in this moment. he doesn’t want it to end, but he can’t hold anymore. she’s tight around him, pulsing as her release approaches once again. “paint my dick, baby, just like you said. then I’ma give you this nut,” he huffs, working his hips more and more. crys is a moaning mess, her head dipping as she feels another strong orgasm approaching. “keep breathin’,” ony croons. “want you to feel all that shit, mama.”

she breathes as even as she can, breaths deepening as she quickly approaches that line. “ohhh, ony!” she cries out, her eyes squeezing shut. ” let it out, baby, give it to me. give me that shit,” he groans to her, working her clout faster and faster as he keeps pumping into her. it’s all too much and it brings her over the edge, her toes almost cramping and hips moving without her knowledge. “there it goes, keep breathing. fuck yeah, mama, take that shit.” it’s an intense feeling and she’s chasing it, breathing like ony directs and it makes the difference. she feels the shit down to her toes. her eyes are crossed and she can’t even fucking speak, just taking whatever comes as her eyes shut tight. “that’s it, baby, feel that shit. know you feel good, I know,” he pants.

ony’s fucking into her faster, the way she’s clenching around him making his head spin. his grip tightens on her hip as he chases his own high, watching her fucked out face. she looks so good like that, spent and satisfied and his. “fuuuck, you so gorgeous, crystal. gahdamn you feel good as fuck,” he rambles, praising her over and over just because he can and she deserves it. soon, he’s pulling out and pumping himself all over her ass, groaning as his body jerks. “yeah, ony,” crys coos with a raspy voice. she’s giving a tired wiggle of her hips, encouraging him to spill all over her. “fuckin’ perfect.”

the two pant, spent from such a lovely day together. it’s silent as they just back in the afterglow of their impromptu endeavors. eventually, ony starts to press sweet, calming kisses to her shoulder and back. he appreciates the small marks on her skin, random beauty marks and freckles. “perfect, mama. you were perfect,” he rasps. as far as he’s concerned, today couldn’t have been more successful. crys is… well, crys is out of commission at the moment. her mind is fuzzy in her post orgasm bliss, and she’s catching her breath as she basks in his kisses. “fuck…” she mumbles. that was very unexpected but completely welcome. the wait was more than worth it, and now she can have that again and again and again. “yeah,” ony chuckles tiredly. “yeah, that was crazy. damn.”

the two laugh together, gross and sticky, but so happy with the situation. that line was finally crossed, and there’s no going back. not that either of them would want to, anyway. ony glances down at crys as she rests for a moment, eyes closed and lashes tickling her skin. the earlier tensions are gone, nothing but fondness and connection in it’s wake. he reaches to caress her cheekbone, tucking a curl behind her ear and out of her face. “sorry for earlier,” crys mumbles into the quiet. she really is, she doesn’t like when she projects her upset like that. she nevers wants that for anyone she’s connecting with, especially not ony. he’s been understanding with her in a way that she’s learned to deeply appreciate. “but I’m glad we did this.”

ony hums, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. he can deal with a little push from her, especially since he gets to keep her. she’s a sweet girl, and she invigorates him. he appreciates her expressiveness and range of emotions, and understands that sometimes she’s just human. he’s okay with that. but now that they’re together, he has the ability to take a different approach. sometimes she needs him to snap back at her, and that’s what he’ll do with absolutely no hesitation from now on. there’s a mutual respect and understanding, and ony really fucks with that shit. “just needed some attention… and dick,” he murmurs. and he’ll give it to her whenever, wherever.

crys groans and starts to fuss, turning to weakly slap at his chest. “oh, shut up! go get me a damn towel!” here he goes saying some slick shit, right when the moment is good. he’s such an idiot sometimes, but it never fails to put a smile on her face. ony lets out a bellowing laugh, backing off of her and standing on his only slightly wobbling legs. he hopes she didn’t see that, but she’s already talking shit again. “yeah, pussy got you walkin’ crazy,” she sasses as he starts his trek to the bathroom, watching his sweaty but oh so fine figure walk away. ”better act right or you’ll never get it again,” she huffs. ony laughs again, shaking his head. “don’t make me start this shit all over, crystal,” he calls over his shoulder. she rolls her eyes but nuzzles her face into a pillow as she grumbles under her breath. she’s not scared, she’s just still recovering, is all. “yeah, that’s what I thought,” he laughs.

soon, they’re all cleaned up and on fresh sheets, crys refusing to sleep in the crusty bedspread after everything was said and done. they get into a spat about who gets to sleep on which side of the bed, and then over whether they should sleep with some time of light on. ony also demands to cuddle, but crystal fusses that she’ll get too hot and won’t be able to sleep. for that brief period, it’s war.

eventually, though, after bargains and begrudging compromises, crys is on her back on her usual side of the bed and ony is half-sprawled on top of her, head buried in her neck and hand softly rubbing her outer thigh. a random sitcom plays with no sound and the room is a nice, cool temperature with the fan blowing on the both of them. crys caresses ony’s back gently with her nails, eyes closed as she enjoys the weight of him on top of her. the pleasant feeling is like a weighted blanket, lulling her to sleep. ony is holding crys close, enjoying her warmth and presence. he’s taking full advantage of being able to cuddle with her. they fall asleep like this, wrapped up in each other, and wondering what the next day will bring.

hoooooly moooooly. this was not supposed to be this long. was hoping to post this sooner, but the words just kept coming omg. pls excuse any mistakes lmao. hope you like it! feedback welcome and wanted 🫶🏽

#this was supposed to be 5k words #how did we get here #aot onyankopon #attack on titan #onyankapon #onyankopon smut #black oc #aot x black reader #aot x reader #ony x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x you #writings — fic

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harrywavycurly · 2 months ago

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Sarah, I'm in a terrible mood and I need something cute wholesome to read. Preferably boyfriendrry or husbandrry. Want fluff not angst. Can't handle it at the moment. Help me. I'm kinda dying inside rn

Hiii lovey!! I’m sorry you’re in an off mood I hope this little blurb helps you feel a bit better, I went husbandrry!! Also I’m sending you lots and lots of love babes 💖

CW: None just fluff

Summary: You and Harry have a fun little moment in the middle of a dinner party✨

Harry places his hands on your hips as he stands behind you at the kitchen counter where you’re cutting up fruit to serve with dessert to the small gathering of friends that are currently scattered around the living and dining room. He leans down and places his lips to the side of your neck as his hands squeeze your hips softly.

“Did you see the new piece of jewelry Andrea has on?” Your voice is soft mixture of playful with a hint of excitement as you toss a few cut up strawberries into a bowl.

“No? Where is this new piece of jewelry located?” He questions as he rests his chin on top of your shoulder, he feels your chest vibrate as you let out a chuckle no doubt due to his lack of observation skills. But he can’t be bothered to focus on other people that much while in the same room as you, his wife that still manages to steal all the air from his lungs and his attention the moment you step into the room.

“I’ll give you a hint how about that?” You tease as his arms fully wrap around you while you begin to cut up some watermelon.

“Okay hit me with it love.” He mumbles before placing a kiss to the side of your cheek.

“It’s not around her neck.”

“Baby that’s not much of a hint.”

“Yes it is? I’m narrowing down the options for you.”

“Oh is it her new watch? I saw her checking the time a few minutes into dinner.” Harry knows his answer is wrong by the way you lean back into his hold as you let out a loud laugh that you have to cover with one of your hands so you don’t disturb the people you invited over.

“No but you’re close.” Harry rubs his lips together as he tries to think of the brief interactions he’s had with your dear friend Andrea. You smile as you reach over and grab a bowl to place the cut up watermelon in, giving your finger that has your wedding ring on it a little wiggle that catches Harry’s attention.

“No fucking way.” He says shocked that he didn’t notice an engagement ring on your friend’s hand.

“Yes-did you really not notice how she was holding her wine glass? She was practically putting it on display for everyone to see.”

“Well I don’t make it a habit of looking at other people’s hands when yours are the only ones I’m worried about.” You roll your eyes as he nuzzles his nose against the warm skin of your neck. “Know how they like to wander and all that.” He adds as his hold around your middle tightens making you let out a scoff.

“Oh my hands do the wandering do they?” He lifts his head so you can turn around in his hold, placing your hands on his chest as you look up at him. “Whose hands got dangerously high on my thigh under the table during dinner then?” Harry just gives you a shrug as he leans down and presses his lips to the tip of your nose.

“I didn’t hear you complaining about it?”

“Why would I complain about my husband’s hand on my thigh? I’m just saying you’re the one with the wandering hands not me.”

“I can’t help it I just want to be touching you in someway all the time.” He explains as you reach up on the tips of your toes so you can place a kiss to his cheek making him grin.

“Did you really not notice the giant rock on her finger?” Harry raises an eyebrow as your hands slide up his chest to the back of his neck.

“Giant rock? Bigger than yours or-”

“Harry not everything is a competition.” You answer cutting his question short with a teasing laugh. He lets out a huff as his hands slide lower down your back. “See what I mean about the wandering?” You ask him as he gives your bottom a nice squeeze, he just acts as if he’s not doing anything as he leans down and places his lips against yours in a sweet kiss.

“Will you help me with the fruit?” You ask as you pull away, Harry gives your bottom another soft squeeze as he leans back in for a quick peck.

“Sorry baby I’d love to but I’ve got my hands full at the moment.” He says smugly making you laugh and give his chest a playful swat.

“You’re horrible.”

“I know but luckily that’s what my wife loves most about me.” You can’t help but smile as he leans in to place a kiss to your forehead before he loosens his hold on your bottom and slides his hands back up to your hips.

“I do-I love you and your wandering hands.” You tell him before turning back around so you can finish cutting up the fruit.

“I love you too.” He whispers in your ear before placing a kiss to the spot just below it.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #husbandrry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x wife!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles rpf #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles request #harry styles #my little lanky baby

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niningtori · 1 year ago

Text

supermodel | part two

part one

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after finding out one of your closest friends sabotaged your relationship with beomgyu in hopes of having him all to herself, you end up spending a night with him. you may come to regret it when you realize beomgyu may not have been as innocent as he initially seemed.

genre: romance, angst, MELODRAMA, yandere, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: MDNI!!! yandere!gyu (super manipulative!gyu at least), more (justified imo) cheating, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, pregnancy kink, voyeurism (ig?), dom!gyu, sub!gyu, if i'm missing anything lmk

word count: 6.2k

notes: alright ;_; after much debate i'm reposting this probably only for a few days just so everyone who wanted to read can read it before i (probably) delete again! posting this made me feel rlly insecure for some reason but thanks to my moots and anons i feel a lot better ab it :) at least for a little bit. also, i know the direction may have taken quite the turn but this is genuinely just how it came out 😭 if you don't like it i'm sorry ( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ )

it’s hard to reason with beomgyu as he presses hot kisses down your neck, but it’s not like you’re not trying. you think you’re trying really hard, actually, but it’s nothing in comparison to the effort he’s putting in to make you lose your mind. you have no control over your moans when he sucks a hickey into your neck. you feel heat pooling in your stomach as he grabs your ass and snakes his other hand up your hoodie to catch one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he’s finally tasted you and, like a man starved, he’ll be damned before someone takes away what’s his.

“b-beomie, we can’t! let’s go back to my place, at least,” you try to reason, but your resolve is weakening as you feel your pussy grow even wetter under his caresses.

“shh, hana’s not gonna be home tonight,” he whispers. “just want you so bad, can’t wait.” he looks so earnest, you can’t bear to part from him. his puppy eyes look devastated, so what else can you do besides relent? and he knows it, too. now he’s got you.

he leads you to hana’s bedroom, where he’s spent countless nights listening to her talk about how much she loves him, has loved him for years. he wants to roll his eyes at this, but he doesn’t want you to misunderstand, so he keeps it to himself. he’ll admit, she really did pull the wool over his eyes when she said you didn’t like him, so he can’t wait to see her reaction when she realizes you two have finally figured it out. if she wants to play dirty, they can both try their hand and see who wins.

and it feels an awful lot like he’s winning when he sees you undress once again, body bare with traces of him on every part of you. even if he hadn’t marked you up so much, and he has, there’s still evidence of his impact on you leaking out of your pussy. you letting him come inside was truly unexpected, but welcome, nonetheless. he knows, when you’ve sobered up from your lustful daze, you’ll ask him if he’s ever fucked hana raw. you’ll probably cry again and rush to get plan b, but he’ll tell you he’s not stupid. he’d never fuck anyone without protection, especially someone he likes as little as he likes hana. he just likes you so much, he couldn’t help but want to feel you. you’re everything he dared to wish you would be. even better, actually, and now that he’s tasted you, he never wants to stop.

the feeling of wanting to be close to you reemerges when he sees you dropping to your knees for him. you fiddle with the zipper of his pants and he sighs when cool air meets his bare cock. and you're so perfect with your makeup smudged, hair in disarray, and mouth open, prettily presented for fucking.

you start with a lick of your lips and he’s already rock hard from the anticipation. you grab his base and tease little licks up and down his length. he never thought he’d be particularly into that, really, but you look so hungry for him it makes him whine. finally, you lick the precum off of his tip and he moans when you shallowly take in the tip of his cock, hollowing out your cheeks. you bob your head shallowly and it’s taking every ounce of self control he has not to grab the back of your head and shove himself down your throat. but he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he lets you tease him. for now, at least. you take more and more of him into your warm mouth until you can feel his tip searing the back of your throat. you can’t possibly fit all of him into your mouth, so you take the rest of him in your hands. you look up at him with watery eyes, almost like you’re asking for his approval, and his already thinning patience snaps. he grabs your hair and pumps himself in and out of you. you try to meet his thrusts with teasing swipes of your tongue, never once breaking eye contact. the combination of your gaze and the sight of your drool mixed with his precum dripping out of your mouth drives him crazy.

“baby, look, you’re drooling all over my cock.” you hum in agreement, but a nasty thought crosses his mind as he remembers that you almost went out with another man tonight.

“mmm, who taught you how to use that slutty little mouth?” he asks, riling himself up for reasons unknown. the thought of someone else seeing you like this is enough to push him to madness. he fucks himself into your mouth mercilessly. you’re coughing and slobbering all over his cock, but it’s only when hot tears pour down your face that he registers what he’s doing. how can he bear to hurt you? he pulls out and you’re gasping for air.

“shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. c’mere,” he coos, leading you to the bed.

you lay down shakily and he takes a moment just to admire your body and the work he’s done to it. he can’t control the want in his gaze when he sees your pussy dripping on hana’s comforter. it’s sick to see, in a way, but it excites him even more.

“turn around,” he commands, and you would, you really, really would, but your limbs feel so weak, it’s a chore. he sighs and roughly turns you on your stomach himself. he manhandles you into kneeling on all fours and it’s all you can do not to buckle under such force, but you can’t deny the way it makes your pussy clench around nothing when he does this. as if he can read your mind, he lets out a soft laugh as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes himself in. you’ve obviously just fucked, but you’re still as tight and hot as the first time. slowly, he feels you stretch and spasm to accommodate his length – pussy gripping him like a vise. he shakes when he feels himself completely sheathed in you.

“g-good girl,” he praises. “so good for me.” then, without giving you another moment to adjust, he begins thrusting into you. his hips meet your ass and he’s awestruck by the sight of it as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix relentlessly. as he’s pumping into your heat, you don’t mean for your arms to give out from under you, but they do. he’s just fucking you so good you can’t help but feel weak. he chuckles at how you’re becoming undone after just a few strokes, but truthfully? he’s endeared. you were so brave in talking back to him earlier, but that attitude is completely gone as you lay there and let him take you over and over again.

“nghh… not so hard, beomie,” you moan.

“is it good, baby? i can feel you milking my cock. tell me it’s good, or i’ll stop,” he threatens.

“mmm, ‘s good! too good!”! you cry.

you’re so busy moaning out beomgyu’s name with your face mashed in the pillows, you really don’t hear the apartment door open and keys being thrown carelessly on the table, but as for beomgyu? he hears it all and it brings a mean, lopsided grin to his face. you’d think he would, at the very least, slow down, but he only rams harder and harder into you. the sound of wetness and skin slapping skin echo throughout the room. hana really wasn’t supposed to be home, this much is true, but what beomgyu didn’t tell you is that she had texted him saying her plans have changed and that he should come over. truly, he couldn’t have conjured up a better outcome than the one unfolding before him.

“beomgyu?!” hana shrieks. you’re so surprised you nearly jump out of beomgyu’s grasp, but he holds your ass in place as he continues his thrusts.

“don’t listen to her, just feel me,” he says in a raspy tone. and what can you do besides listen when he drills himself even harder into you? when you feel the veins of his cock dragging against your insides, you’re tuning out hana’s desperate cries, intentionally or not.

“coming inside, okay?” he, well, you would say ‘asks’, but it’s more of a statement of fact rather than a question. “take it all, baby,” he says as his hips begin to stutter. he smacks your ass — just because he can — and you feel it pulsate throughout your entire body as you clench around him, seeing nothing but white behind your eyelids as your release finally comes along with his.

you’re gasping for air when you finish. he carefully pulls out and watches as your cum and his mix together in the most sinful way. it’s a truly a sight to see, and if he had more time, he would be whipping out his phone and capturing the moment to revisit the next time he’s alone, but hana’s words are cutting into his bliss before he can fully appreciate the sight before him.

“b-beomie? w-what’s going on?” hana asks, tears streaming unabashedly down her pretty face. beomgyu is far too preoccupied to appreciate them, though, as he gently helps you sit up and thoughtfully wipes the drool and tears off of your face.

“‘what’s going on?’” he begins mockingly. “do you really need me to show you again?” he sneers.

meanwhile, you feel like a deer in headlights as you meet hana’s gaze. you feel dirty and small as you try your damndest to cover yourself up. hana’s soft eyes harden while she stares at you.

“you. you did this, you fucking slut,” she spits. you break your gaze and stare down at your naked body. you feel incredibly vulnerable because, as you already know, she’s right. you feel your eyes heat up with tears, this time from guilt and humiliation rather than pleasure.

“you’d better watch your fucking mouth,” beomgyu says, eyebrows furrowed and voice even deeper than usual.

“i just don’t understand. why? why her? and how could you do this to me? you said you loved me!” she shrieks, grabbing beomgyu’s arm. he harshly pulls away and instead collects your sweats and hoodie. you can’t help but stare. he said he loved her then he turned around and fucked you? oh no.

“well, i lied, if that’s not clear enough,” he shrugs, gingerly dressing you like you’re some kind of catatonic doll. and, right now, you might as well be as you let him do what he wants. his callous words don’t match his gentle actions and it’s making your brain short-circuit.

“if and when he does the same shit to you,” she says, looking at you with more hurt than you’ve ever seen on a person, “don’t you fucking dare come crying to me. or any of our friends, actually. just wait ‘til they hear what you fucking did.” you shiver at her ominous words. she’s right, after all. beomgyu dropped her the second you showed interest in him, who’s to say he won’t do the same to you? sure, he’s acting lovey dovey now, but you’ve seen firsthand how quickly his tune can change. you’re absolutely fucked. it’s your word against hers, and with the evidence of your betrayal seeping into her sheets, you don’t like your odds. you can’t help but stare at beomgyu, and, as if he’s reading your mind, he says his next words patiently.

“i love you. i would never hurt you like this.” he loves you now? you continue to look at him doubtfully. his words seem cheap after hana’s unforgiving speech, and he realizes he’s losing you when you don’t respond. hana doesn’t stop there, though.

“if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he’ll do to you,” she laughs. hana is, objectively speaking, a lot more of a catch than you are. and to the very bitter end, she won’t let you fucking forget it.

“shut your fucking mouth!” he exclaims and she flinches, as do you. you’ve never seen him so angry and it’s enough to scare you.

“... i should go,” you croak.

“yeah, you should,” hana ridicules. you do an incredibly shaky walk of shame as you quickly gather your things.

“hey, wait!” he pleads, but you’re already booking it out of the door. he goes to run after you, but hana grabs him forcefully by his shoulder and he spins around to face her. you slam the door, not wanting to know what kind of makeup sex they will probably be having relatively soon. as soon as you’re gone, hana begins.

“are you fucking crazy? her, of all people?!” she hisses.

“i thought i told you to watch how you talk about her,” he says lowly. his eyes are so intense, she’s momentarily stunned, but he’s crazy if he thinks that’ll shut her up. perhaps to her eventual regret, she says her next words.

“if i tell everyone, she’ll be fucking ruined. she’ll have nobody after this.”

“so?”

“so, stay with me,” she says softly, while, to his disgust, grabbing his hands and pleading with him. “stay with me, and i won’t tell anybody.” she looks as pathetic as a dog right now, and her words make him laugh in her face.

“tell them,” he says.

“w-what?” she sputters.

“tell them all. i want you to tell them how i fucked one of your best friends and got her pregnant. tell them how i fucked her raw in your own bed. go on, i’d love to see their reactions when they find out.”

“you’re… you’re fucking crazy,” she gasps.

“maybe, but not crazy enough to stay with you,” he shrugs. “i got what i wanted, i don’t need you anymore.” for once, she shuts her mouth. the puzzle pieces finally fit together and her jaw drops in awe.

“you did this on purpose?”

“maybe you’re not as dumb as you look,” he sneers, and with that, he zips up his pants and pats her cheek. “you were okay in bed, but that’s about it.”

her tears are falling, but that does nothing to mar her beauty. still, his heart remains unfazed.

“when she finds out, she’ll leave you,” she sobs.

“and who will she believe? her ex friend who’s out to get her, or me? the only person she has left? i’d love to see who she believes.” his words leave her in even more tears, but he does nothing to placate her. he just grabs his shit and slams the door behind him.

hana wastes no time in telling your friends about your scandal. your incoming texts range from “what the fuck is wrong with you” to “is it true?” to “you’d better not show your face to us again”.

you attempt to explain yourself, but to no avail. even if hana lied to you first, you committed the ultimate betrayal with a smile on your face. nobody wants to hear your sob story about your forbidden love with beomgyu. nobody, not even your best friend, dares to defend you now.

the one person who’s on your side has been texting you relentlessly, though. beomgyu’s insistence on making sure you’re okay does little to quell the uneasiness in your heart. hana’s words resound in your head. “if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he does to you.” you don’t want to give him that chance, but your resolve is weakening when you feel yourself becoming more and more isolated from the people you used to call your friends.

for days, you don’t leave your house except to go to work. where else can you go? you don’t have anyone to go out with you anymore. still, beomgyu texts and attempts to call you through it all. his messages are all about how much he loves you, how much he misses you, how much he needs you. how much he promises to make things right with you and how you’re the only one he’s wanted all along. more and more, you feel yourself slipping away. even though you never respond, you still sift through his messages and it’s enough to bring smiles, no matter how small, to your face. he loves you, wants you, needs you. who else do you have in your life to say things like that to you?

still, the thought of trusting him scares you to your bones. what if he does the same shit to you? you don’t have a support system anymore. you don’t have anybody to rely on when he inevitably hurts you in the same way. why wouldn't he, after all? you’re no match for the kind of girls who come his way. what happens when he gets sick of you and wants to fuck another girl in your bed? you’re stuck with these thoughts as you nurse a bottle of vodka, alone in your apartment with nobody but yourself. this is what you deserve, you think.

a knock on your door is enough to pull you out of your drunken haze. is it one of your friends? could they have finally gotten over their intial shock and disgust and understood that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did? you stumble to the door and you’re too drunk to even think about checking who it is before desperately swinging open the door. you are not met with the familiar face of one of your friends, however. instead, you see the face of the boy who’s been haunting your dreams for the past few nights.

“beomgyu?” he looks absolutely devastated, eyes reddened and wet with his face ghostly pale. he reeks of alcohol and he stands almost tremblingly. he doesn’t respond to you, just stares at you with the same intensity that entranced you from the very beginning.

“what are you doing here?” you ask.

“can i come in? please?” you’ve never been able to say no to him, and you especially can’t in his current pathetic state. you move from the doorway to allow him access and quietly shut the door behind him.

“what do you want?” you try.

“want you,” he sobs, tears finally flowing from his sad brown eyes. “all i want is you.” your heart aches when you see him like this. you thought hana’s reaction was devastating enough, but he looks absolutely wrecked right now, putting her despair to shame, really.

“i don’t know what to say,” you admit. “we fucked up, plain and simple. and i don’t know how i can trust you after what we did.” you’re not a victim in this, to be clear, but you’re far too vulnerable to accept the heart that he's holding out for you so carelessly.

“i know, and i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. what can i do to make you trust me?” he begs. your already soft heart softens even more at his words, but you have to be realistic.

“i… i don’t think i can. if you had just talked to me in the first place things could've been different,” you reason. this only puts the boy in an even worse state. he’s almost wailing now, and he looks to you for comfort.

“p-please, just please. give me one chance,” he cries, looking absolutely frantic. “i’ll prove it to you, just let me.” he reaches for your face and you didn’t even realize you’re crying until he swipes away your tears. well, you’re already going to hell. what’s the point in atoning for your sins now?

as if he can read your mind, he musters up a shaky smile before leaning in and giving you a chaste kiss. his lips taste salty, but sweet, and he’s kissing you with a passion you’ve never felt before. you almost believe him when he says you’re the only one. almost.

“h-how do i know you’re not going to do the same thing to me?” you ask unsteadily.

“i would never,” he says immediately. “i would never hurt you.” at least, not like this. but you don’t know that yet.

in the weeks following his drunken appearance at your door, being with beomgyu is even better than you thought it would be. it’s like a switch has been turned back on and he’s back to treating you like a princess, almost like the months since your “breakup” never happened. he randomly brings you flowers, showers you with kisses, and he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you along with declarations of love, which you never directly reciprocate. no matter how well he treats you, though, there’s an underlying sense of unease. you still find it difficult to fully trust him, and he can tell. it’s driving him to the brink of madness trying to come up with ways to show you how much he cares.

you’re in the middle of pensively reevaluating the nature of your relationship with beomgyu for the 100th time when you hear a knock on your door. at this point, you don't even bother checking who it is because you already know it'll be beomgyu. no matter how desperately you wish it were one of your ex-friends, you’re always met with his face, instead. you open the door and you’re shocked, to put it mildly. standing before you is not the beomgyu you know and (probably) love, but hana.

“we need to talk,” she grumbles. almost as if you’re possessed, you let her in without much fuss. is she here to rekindle your friendship? to tell you she’ll forgive you after what you’ve done to her?

“hana, listen i’m so incredibly sor—”

“save it,” she says, lifting her hand. “i’m only here ‘cause i have something i need to say to you. it took me weeks to come here because i don’t even wanna look at you.” you gulp and nod, genuinely anxious as to what she has in store for you.

“i’m just going to tell you straight up. beomgyu’s not who you think he is,” she deadpans.

“w-what do you mean?” if she’s talking about how he’ll eventually betray you, you’ve already thought of that. why she thinks this is news to you, you don’t know.

“listen to me, he planned this whole fucking thing.” what could she possibly mean by that? he planned to get caught by her? that doesn’t even make sense. “i told him i’d be home the night that i walked in on you.” your jaw drops in horror, but she continues as if she doesn’t notice.

“i think… i think he heard us over the phone and knew you’d be there before meeting with jay. he told me he wanted our friends to find out and to see who you’d believe if i told you. whether you believe me or not, i really don’t give a fuck, but it’s true. he said he got what he wanted, so he doesn’t need me anymore.” she chokes on her last words and you can't help but feel sorry for her, but that feeling is overshadowed by the feelings of anger towards beomgyu. you don’t think hana would lie about this. she looks so flustered and heartbroken, you don’t believe for a second that she’s lying just to rile you up. before you can reply, the door opens and beomgyu’s figure appears in your doorway. he has a smile on his face, but it drops lightning fast when he sees who’s standing there.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” he says with a scowl.

“i’m on my way out,” hana mumbles, pushing past him. he doesn’t even attempt to stop her. he registers the mixed emotions on your face and he can guess what she said to you without much effort.

“let me explain,” he says lowly, already heading towards you to placate you like you’re some sort of wild animal he has to coax. and you’re so angry, you might as well be.

“explain what? that you ruined my fucking life?” you spit. he flinches at your tone, even more so at your next words. “what i don’t understand is why? is my life a fucking game to you?” his face crumbles at this.

“n-no! never!” he sputters.

“then what is this? what’s your reason for planning for hana to walk in us? is this a kink or something?” he shakes his head frantically.

“you don’t understand, i just wanted it to be us,” he pleads. “i don’t like them. they’ll just try to take you away from me.”

“take me away from you? beomgyu, i’m not some fucking toy. i’m a person. a person whose life you fucking ruined for no reason!” you exclaim. you’re so frustrated you could cry, so you do. does he not realize how badly he fucked you over? “you promised you’d never hurt me,” you sob.

“i-i did it for us! they wouldn’t care about how we feel… they’d just take hana’s side without even thinking about it!” he argues, grabbing your hands. you want to pull away, but if you do, that means you’ll be completely alone.

“you didn’t even give them a chance,” you reason. “now it’s really over,” you say between sobs. “i… i could’ve talked to them, but you ruined it!”

“i just want you all to myself, is that so bad?” he asks, as if he genuinely can't understand why you’re so upset. he’s actually sick in the head.

“why?!” you ask again, ripping your hands from his grasp.

“because i love you,” he says desperately. “i just love you so much. i’m sorry, i’ll never do anything like this again,” he promises.

“yeah, you won’t,” you reply bitterly. “because i won’t give you that chance.”

“w-what do you mean?” he asks, lips trembling and eyes red.

“i’m not doing this with you anymore. this whole thing was doomed from the start,” you reply firmly. he shakes his head as if denying it with fervor will undo what you’ve said, tears now flowing freely from his reddened eyes.

“no, p-please,” he cries. “i only did it because i love you so much. ever since i first saw you, i only ever wanted to be with you. i… i know i fucked up, but it was the only way. believe me, please.” your already soft heart is softening even more as you listen to the desperation in his voice. he sounds so lost and scared, as if he really doesn’t know what he’ll do if you tell him no. you briefly wonder if he’s ever heard the words: “no, beomgyu. you’ve gone too far this time.” but as you watch him come undone before you, you don’t think you’ll be able to be the one who tells him no, anyway.

“i’m giving you one, and i mean one, last chance. if you fuck up this time, i promise you, you’ll never see me again,” you declare. you don't know what you’re expecting, really, but the sight of even more tears streaming down his face is not it. he grabs you and pulls you in his warm and trembling embrace.

“th-thank you,” he cries. “you won’t regret this.”

“i’d better not,” you mumble. even if you do, you can’t deny the way your heart skips a beat at his pure, unadulterated need for you. even if you do come to regret it, it’s impossible to look at him right now and say he’s not being sincere. he pulls away from you and hurriedly captures your mouth, and as if your next words will take back what you said, he seals them in your throat before you can manage to get anything more out. as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel something hard and angry poking into your stomach.

“already?” you tease. he actually blushes at this.

“can’t help it. need you,” he replies sheepishly.

“you need me, huh? is that why you’ve been so bad?” you ask, palming him deliciously through his pants.

“n-not bad! just love you so much, couldn’t stop myself.” your temper actually flares a little at this. you palm him more harshly and his breath catches when you do.

“really? but you’ve been so bad, i don’t think you deserve me,” you say menacingly, pulling your hand away. he audibly whimpers at this.

“no, no, no, please! i’ll be good from now on,” he pleads as he grabs your hand and begins to snake it under the waistband of his pants. you let him, but you don’t take his hardened length into your hand like you usually would. instead, you tease the sensitive area around it, even going so far as to ghost your fingers over his balls, but you conveniently avoid giving him any sort of friction or attention, so he’s gasping when you give him a mean and unexpected tug.

“p-please stop teasing me,” he cries, eyes so beautiful and watery. “i know i’ve been bad, but i can make you feel so good.” he’s right, in a way. you’ve never and will never feel as good as you do when beomgyu pumps into you and shoots his hot load in your pussy, but he’s deranged if he thinks you’ll let him have you so easily tonight. not after what he’s done.

“hmm, i’m not so sure about that,” you hum. you lead him to your bedroom as if he’s hypnotized. you haven’t even let him enter you yet, if you’re going to let him do so at all, but he’s already acting like he’s drunk on you.

“strip,” you command simply. without any questions or doubts, he eagerly takes off his hoodie and shoves his pants down, stepping out of them and closer to you. it’s sickeningly sweet to see how possessed he is by you. he tries to take your own clothes off, but you smack his hand away.

“bad boy,” you say, and he whines like a dog. “lay down.” he does what you say, lying completely exposed on your bed as he gives a few pulls on his throbbing cock. “stop fucking touching yourself or you’re not getting anything from me,” you add, and he whines even louder.

“please touch me,” he begs, cock standing all red and weeping.

“you don’t deserve it,” you shrug. you take off your pants and he leches at the image of your pussy dripping wet for him, and so soon. all he can think about is how warm it is and how fervently he wants to be in it. he thinks you’re going to sit on his cock, because that would be the most natural course of action, but all you do is lay next to him and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. a vibrator. are you fucking serious?

“no!” he begs, already knowing how this is going to go.

“you can take what you get from me or you can beat it,” you bite back. that shuts him up. he’s biting his lip, trying not to get scolded again, but he can’t help but whine again when you spread your legs and turn your vibrator on.

“ah,” you moan as the rubber tip hits your clit. “feels so good.”

“i’d feel better,” he insists, eyes widened and desperate like a madman.

“touch yourself,” you say in response. “i'm not touching that dirty cock of yours, so take care of it yourself.” he doesn’t need to be told twice. he immediately spits on his hand and begins to wildly jerk his weeping cock. he whines at the friction. you, however, are so lost in the feeling of the vibrations pulsating throughout your pussy, you couldn’t seem to care less about what he does. this only makes him whine even louder. he’s experiencing pleasure, sure, but the sounds coming from him are exaggerated and theatrical. he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. he just wants you to look at him, is that too much to ask?

you open your eyes at his petulant noise and say your next words so quietly, if he wasn’t paying more attention, he’d miss them. “kiss me.” so he does. the kiss is filthy and nothing more than the tangling of tongues, but that combined with the stimulation on your poor pussy is enough to make you near the edge.

beomgyu can tell you’re close, and his kisses become even more heated as he abuses his cock under his hand. he’s moaning into your mouth, showing you, in no uncertain terms, just how badly he wants to be in you instead.

“let me do it,” he begs. “come around me, instead. it’ll feel so much better.” his dirty words break you out of your trance and you annoyedly shut the vibrator off while tossing it god knows where. you tear his hand away from his cock and mount him, teasingly rubbing yourself against him, but refusing to put it in. he whines and pouts, but you’re far too busy trying to get yourself off to appease him. then, as if he’s possessed, he raises his hips and his tip catches on your entrance. you both gasp at his shallow intrusion.

“p-please sit on it, it hurts,” he asks rather pathetically.

“i can’t, beomie. you haven’t even fingered me yet — you’ll break me in half,” you say provocatively. he whimpers at the imagery. “and you've been so bad, how can i let you get what you want? you’ll never learn if i do that.”

“i’ve learned! i promise, i’ve learned! just, please, help me,” he cries, bucking his hips up and holding your waist so hard you’ll know he’ll leave bruises.

“mmm, i don’t knowwww,” you drawl.

“please!” and with that, you angle your hips and begin to sink on his thick length. the stretch burns and you can’t help but cry out as you feel your pussy enveloping every inch of him mercilessly. he’s in tears when he feels you throbbing around him, pussy stretching to accommodate how big he is. when you finally, finally take him all in, he can’t help but begin to fuck into you wantonly.

“b-beomie, slow down!”

“c-can’t! feels so good,” he says, tears streaming down his pretty face. he grabs your waist even tighter and flips you around so you’re lying beneath him. his cock continues to hammer into you and you’re seeing stars. his mouth is open, drool pooling out of the corners of his lips, and he’s moaning out your name like a prayer.

“pussy so good, so perfect,” he babbles. “missed this. missed feeling you like this.”

“i missed it too,” you admit.

“wanted you, wanted you for so long,” he continues. you don’t even think he knows what he’s saying, but you can tell he means every word. he reaches to your stomach and presses down where his cock is ramming into you. your eyes roll back at the pleasure that comes with the pressure.

“my baby could be in here,” he muses. “our baby.” this should scare you into sobriety, but it does nothing of the sort. you find yourself tightening even further at the thought of him breeding you like a bitch.

“i’ll take care of you, i swear,” he says as he thrusts so hard your head nearly meets the headboard. “i’ll give you everything you need. sh-shit, baby, wanna fill you up so good you feel me for days,” those words in addition to his sloppy thrusts are what send you over the edge. you clench around him and he hisses at how you’re even tighter than usual. you feel his thrusts become even more sporadic and he’s emptying himself into you unceremoniously. as he softens, he pulls out and you wince at the feeling. to your surprise, he moves down to your pussy and begins to lap up all of the cum like a starving animal. then, he pulls you in for one last nasty kiss.

you don’t know if you necessarily trust beomgyu, but it’s hard not to at least try to when he basically prostrates himself in front of you on a daily basis. he lets you walk all over him, really. if you call him, he comes running. if you’re mad or upset, he soothes you. when you’re being unreasonable, he reasons, anyway. you still haven’t heard from your friends, but you’re starting to accept the fact that you never will. he introduces you to his friends, and surprisingly, they actually welcome you with open arms. apparently, they didn’t like hana very much and knew beomgyu always had a thing for you. you’re not sure how to feel about that, but you’re flattered, nonetheless.

you call beomgyu crazy, and maybe he is, but he always says it's because he's crazy in love with you. you want to playfully smack him when he says such cheesy words, but you're starting to really believe him.

#supermodel #niningtori #beomgyu smut #beomgyu angst #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt angst #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu hard hours #mdni #nini's hard hours

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onlyhereforpazzi · 8 months ago

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Let me be your rock 🪨 (get to because my last name is stone.. I have crippling debt..)

Warnings: NSFW contains smut (finger A!r Eating out p! Scissoring) angst mentions of running away from home.

A sort of fluffy fic :)

Enjoy :)

It started off small. Sharing little moment’s in Azzi’s room, hugs from behind, little pecks to the cheek, cuddling late at night, long welcoming hugs that were a bit more than just friendly, and hand holding everywhere they went. Azzi’s dad Tim would make jokes that Paige and Azzi were attached to the hip since birth, Paige would just laugh at that. But then they got risky with the end of the year coming soon they felt and needed to rush things, Azzi became just as clingy as Paige and they got a lot less demure with their touches and acts of effect.

Paige laid next to Azzi in her queen size bed rubbing her stomach softly as she pecked her lips against Azzi’s every few seconds whispering sweet nothings into her ears, such as.. “Such a pretty girl Az..” “Look at my princess..” “Gonna dream of you every night ma..” Until Azzi finally put a stop to it by pinning Paige down with a slick move. “Whoa ma-” A startled Paige said looking up at the younger girl, adjusting her hands so one was on her ass the other on her hip smirking in that cheesy way she knew Azzi loved.

“Oh you are such a dumbass..” Azzi mumbled softly, moving a hand to the blonde’s cheek leaning down and pecking her lips in such an easy motion like banking a layup or a floater to the two hoopers. “My dumbass though..” The younger girl smiles and pecks her lips again.

The blonde looks up at the younger girl. “Love being your dumbass,” She paused for a moment before adding “as long as I get to see that ass shake ma.” Paige was then met with a playful smack from her best friend on her arm. “What Az it is true!” Paige laughed and rolled over so the younger girl was under her.

“Yeah but is it so inappropriate!” Azzi said as if half of the stuff they have done in this very bed (or in the shower) was any better. Luckily Azzi used her brains and covered her mouth with her hand. “Don’t you even think about it Bueckers..”

“You love me Az, I know it..” The blonde smiled and pecked the younger girl's lips before whispering playfully in a seductive voice. “But you know maybe later I can show you inappropriate things.” She ran her finger down to the younger girl's shorts with a smirk, before doing her classic ‘rizz-hands’ grinning ear to ear. “Dork..” Azzi mumbled pecking her lips again, a knock at the door prevented Paige from deepening the kiss. Paige groans and rolls off Azzi so she can get up. Azzi opens the door to find Tim, the man was tall standing at 6 '7 and was a stocky man developing a bit of a dad bod from being off the court for so long, most guys didn’t ask Azzi out because her dad was so scary. Deep down he is like a big old teddy bear. “Hey girls, dinner is ready! Azzi you need to clean up your room after dinner hun.” Azzi nodded and Paige smiled before standing up and following Azzi downstairs to the dining area. The Fudd house was well kept and generally clean, except for the couch which was covered in Azzi’s two younger brothers controllers and such. Paige sat next to Azzi and placed her hand on her thing, rubbing gently as they waited for the dinner to be set in front of them. “So how was your day y’all?” Azzi’s mother Katie asked, her voice had a twang to it that made her seem more stern then she was. She looked at her two younger sons who instantly stopped messing around with each other. “Jose, remember to put away your clothes. I have asked you three times this week alone.”

Paige had grown used to this, it was nice having siblings in the house all the time and two loving parents even if they weren’t actually hers. Paige was only three when Bob and Amy got a divorce, it took her till she was seven to figure out why. She used to blame herself. It was a bad habit she developed, someone was to get hurt in court. She must have not tried enough to prevent that. It was horrible, when she found out Azzi tore her Azzi she blamed herself for not being there and not kissing her all better, not holding her in person (all they did was Facetime), not having Azzi squeeze her thighs around Paige’s head as she.. When Bob and his current wife had Drew, Paige was so happy to have a younger sibling she could treat like a little baby. Often Azzi was sent photos of Paige and Drew, in return Paige would get silly pictures of Azzi or her brothers, which she always kept in case she needed to make a quick roast on them. “My day was good Katie thank you for asking..” Paige smiled looking at the women who helped bring life to this goddess next to her currently. She held Azzi’s hand under the table while they ate and enjoyed the food. Soon they finished eating and Paige took the honor of taking Azzi’s plate to the kitchen and washing it well. Azzi watched Paige do so, before trailing behind her holding her mother’s and father’s plate. “Oh hello there madam Fudd..” Paige grinned at her cheesy words, taking the plates and pecking the younger girl's cheek. “I must say madam Fudd you look absolutely delicious in those jeans.” The blonde's eyes drifted down to her ass in those jeans smirking.

“My eyes are up here Bueckers..” The younger girl hopped onto the counter looking at her best friend washing the dishes before walking over placing her hands on her thighs rubbing softly looking up at her. “Hm?” The younger girl hummed in a questioning tone looking at the older girl. “Nothing, just admiring this beautiful girl in front of me..” Paige grinned and pecked her lips softly against the younger girl who returned the kiss before pulling away. “Mmm, love those kisses..” The blonde began to kiss the curly haired girl's cheeks and jawline. “So perfect..” Eventually Azzi pushed Paige off of her and they went back up to Azzi’s room. Paige began to get ready for bed which included taking off her clothes. Azzi had seen Paige naked a few times but that didn’t matter. Paige undresses quickly before helping Azzi undress. It was difficult for the younger girl to deal with her injury. “Thank you P..” The blonde nodded and kissed the younger girl in a ‘your welcome’ fashion. The older girl helped Azzi get dressed until her body was dressed in short shorts and an oversized shirt, Paige got dressed in some flannel Pj pants and an oversized shirt that read ‘Hopkins basketball’.

Paige laid down next to Azzi in her bed rubbing her back gently, her touch soft against her even softer skin. “There you go Az..” Paige mumbled quietly, “Love you so much.. Gonna be here forever for you..” Azzi smiled before rolling over and kissing Paige, kissing her until her lips were swollen and she needed to catch her breath. The blonde moved down and kissed her neck softly. “Love this girl..” Paige mumbled softly kissing down her neck. Paige backed off studying her neck, looking at the slight mark on the neck of the girl. “Look at that baby..” Azzi rolled her eyes, pinning Paige to the bed smiling as they cuddled and tickled each other, acting like the teens that they were thrown into adulthood at 17 and 18 due to picking the career of basketball called the next greats hold back due to the injuries. Giving them a wider view of the world, being thrown into the world of live television during the USA basketball olympics or even just being told you are the greatest in the country added pressure, and pressure, and even more you guessed it pressure until they couldn’t take it. They were lucky to have each other to be each other's crunches, that supported their legs that held them back. “Paige?” Azzi mumbled and Paige hummed softly in reply. “What college did you choose?” “Oh um.. I have chosen Uconn, Geno seems like a great coach. He has coached the greats like Sue Bird, Taurasi, Stewie..” Paige smiled at Azzi before continuing. “Soon to be great Paige Madison Bueckers..” Azzi punched her arm softly, rolling her eyes. “Yeah.. Azzi isn't that far away from Virginia or Minnesota, I mean it is quite a bit away from Washington and like Montana but that doesn’t matter really. It isn’t like I will get drafted and go to the Storms or Wings..” “Yeah I know I just..” Azzi began but didn’t finish looking up at Paige whose blue eyes had an understanding look. “I just am scared P.. what if I don’t get drafted if my injury holds me back. I have my good grades but basketball.. It is my life P..” “Hey hey no you will get drafted in the future and I will be right there watching you cheering you on.” Paige held the younger girl's face in her hands. “We can be roommates in college, we could share a bed and have some fun every few nights.” Paige raised her eyebrows and pecked Azzi’s nose softly. “Azzi nothing is holding you back, you are the greatest player of your class. Prove it to the world, and you know maybe I will take that stupid fucking elderberry stuff again just for you.”

Azzi laughed at the last thing Paige said before leaning in and kissing her softly. “Mmm okay but you can’t run out of the house..” Paige kissed her back gently smiling as she rubbed the hand of the younger girl. Paige pulled away gently. “No promises on that..” She leaned back and kissed her again. “Do you know when your parents are going to your brother's little thing?” Azzi shook her head before grabbing her phone to check her calendar. Paige kissed her neck gently as she did so, wanting the younger girl to feel loved. “His thing is in an hour and he wants to be there like 30 minutes early so probably in 10 minutes they will leave..” Azzi said, stroking the blonde hair of the older girl. The blonde groaned complaining that it was too long of a wait and Azzi should just let her have some fun right now. “Paige you can wait ten minutes..” Azzi smiled at the older girl, kissing her lips softly.

“Ugh you are so mean to me..” Paige mumbled kissing the younger girl back acting as if they didn’t go four months before even having the conversation. “I love you Azzi but man you bully me..” the blonde joked and teased the younger girl.

Azzi pulled out her phone and scrolled through it while Paige clung to her, once they heard the garage open Paige grinned ear to ear. “Oh man are you excited babe?” Azzi asked, looking up at her Paige who nodded eagerly kissing the face of her best friend with eagerness.

“Look at this face ma..” Paige mumbled the roar of the engine in the background gave Paige a signal it would be okay to take Azzi’s shirt off of her tossing it somewhere between the bed and dresser not really caring where it landed. “These motherfuckin’ abs ma..” She leaned down and kissed her stomach softly rubbing it gently between kisses. Paige kept complimenting her body, kissing down and down until she reached her shorts. “May I?” Azzi nodded and Paige pulled her shorts down to reveal the pretty underwear she watched Azzi put on. “Paige, stop teasing..” Azzi mumbled and watched as Paige pulled down her underwear letting out a moan at the sight of the younger girl's pussy. Her eyes tracing around the folds, to the clit, and then back again in a constant cycle she looked up at Azzi and smirked.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy ma.. Wet for me, yeah?” She kissed right above it as her thumb found her clit and rubbed slow circles around it. Her head lowered as she kissed her clit softly, spitting a bit she ran her middle finger up and down her soaking folds waiting for Azzi to give some sign of not being able to take the teasing anymore. She got what she wanted soon after when the younger girl's thigh twitched rubbing against her hand. “Want more?” Azzi nodded eagerly and Paige slipped her finger in teasing her with her slow sliding in and out. “Like that?” She smirked and added a second finger speeding up a bit as she began to stretch her out. “P.. Paige.. Fuck..” Azzi moaned her eyes on Paige struggling to hold in her moans against her bottom lip which she bit. “Paige fuck your fingers.. Need more..” “Oh yeah ma? Well then I will give you more..” She lowered her head and sucked her clit while Azzi kept moaning her hands gripping her sheets tightly scrunching the normally perfect surface. Paige's fingers curling into Azzi with a steady rhythm.. “Yeah Paige.. Paige Paige.. Fuck I am close..” Paige grinned and leaned up pecking her lips before spitting on her still moving fingers. “Damn damn.. Fuck P..” “Yeah baby let it go come on cum for me..” Azzi’s hips bucked up to meet Paige's fingers until they faltered before crashing right back down. Paige let her ride her high out until she laid there breathing heavily.. Paige pulled her fingers out and sucked on them softly. “It tastes so good ma..”

“Yeah I bet..” Azzi mumbled as she looked at Paige, “Alright my turn..” Azzi laid back against the bed while Paige stripped down to nothing but her sports bra. Paige gripped the head board as she lined herself up. “There you go..” Azzi mumbled gripping her thighs as Paige lowered herself on Azzi’s face with a moan, her folds opening around the younger girl's tongue. “Damn Az..” She slowly rose up and back down a few times before sliding against the younger girl's face as she lapped up her mess. She began to imagine what Azzi’s mother's reaction would be if she walked in and saw her daughter’s best friend sitting on her face. She was about to laugh when she was interrupted by a moan coming from herself. “Tastes so good P..” Azzi mumbled as her chin became covered with Paige’s slick and her own drool.. “Could eat this pussy every day…” Paige groaned as she rode her face fast, craving that high. She moaned again followed by some swearing as Azzi helped her reach her goal. Paige’s actions slowed and followed every few seconds till she cummed on the younger girl’s tongue. “Damn..” Paige lifted her hips and sat next to Azzi smiling at her. “So what position next hmm?” Paige rubbed Azzi’s thigh as Azzi cleaned up her face, with the back of her wrist. “Uh we could do some scissor action you know..” Azzi suggested smiling at Paige who nodded and took a deep breath before beginning to align their weak pussies, Paige slowly lowered herself to the point where they met. The two girls moaned at the touch and grinned against each other and Paige’s eyes rolled back in overstimulation of her clit touching Azzi’s folds. “Wow.. wow Azzi..” “AZZI (enter Azzi’s middle name) FUDD!” A voice called out, opening the door to find them in such a position. Paige, not knowing what to do, froze, luckily Azzi had some brains and pulled a blanket over them. Azzi’s mother stood in the door, her face must have been as red as her hair. “YOU TWO GET DRESSED AND BE DOWNSTAIRS IN 5 MINUTES..” Katie was furious this was not something Paige wanted to happen. Paige quickly got up once the door closed, pecking Azzi’s forehead before getting dressed helping Azzi get dressed. “Fuck Azzi what are we going to do.. What if they kick me out.. I can’t go back to my dad’s yet..” Paige stared at the younger girl's brown eyes until they answered her. “They won’t Paige I promise and if they do we will move out together.. I have enough money to buy a hotel or something. Come on, we can do this..” Azzi answered as she pulled her shirt over her head standing slowly using Paige as her support, her rock. Paige was her rock always was. “Come on, let's go..” Paige mumbled as they made their way down the stairs to the living room, the caring and gentle Mr. Fudd at a stern expression as he looked at the two girls, but he wasn’t the one they were worried about. They watched as Katie reentered the living room, her expression sterned as she pointed to the couch telling them to sit. “Mrs. Fudd I can explain..” Paige began but was shut down when Katie raised her hand up. “So Azzi why when I come home from your brother's event do I find you and the girl you swore to me was just a friend in bed together doing certain acts?” Katie asked, staring them down like a hawk. “Explain to me why I found you in such a position hmm..” “Mom, I really like Paige..” Azzi’s voice was timid so Paige held her hand rubbing the back of it with her thumb. “I have liked her since we met. She is the best thing to happen to me, please don’t take her away…” Tim spoke up, “How long has this been going on?” His voice was rough like gravel in a driveway. He stared at the two girls, his eyes flicking to each as he rubbed his forehead softly.

“About 8 months but we only started doing that like a month ago..” Paige responded quickly, still holding onto Azzi’s hand.

“Unbelievable..” Katie mumbled before Tim put his hand on her shoulder. He seemed like he wanted to reason with the girls. “Listen I get you guys are teens and all but that isn’t an excuse really.. Now here is the deal: no more sex under my roof got it? But you two can be all couple like..” Tim smiled at the two girls before his expression became serious. “Now Bueckers if I find out you broke my little girl's heart.. I will not hesitate to break you..” The large man grinned and smiled at the girls once more.

Katie jumped in, “I think you two can do a bit of cleaning to make up for this..” She looked between the girls who nodded, gratefully that they at least still had each other. Still had their rocks.

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics #azzi fudd fic #azzi fudd smut

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yoiisa · 2 months ago

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this is part two of Looks Like the Real Thing!!

Tags: TW for discussions of death and familial arguments where children get involved. AU where Rin is dead. Hurt/comfort, angst with some fluff, sae is trying his best to take accountability, and you are a wonderful wife!

The rest of the week is . . . tense to say the least.

Haru seems to be adverse to Sae like his father's the plague. He interacts with you and Yuki just fine, but the minute Sae enters the room, he falls silent and still. You know it's eating at your husband, even if he does his best to try and hide it.

Finally, the tense atmosphere reaches a breaking point of sorts.

"Sae, please, talk to him," you beg as he gets ready for bed, "He misses you."

"Does he?" Sae asks, turning the sink off and grabbing a sponge to wipe the water away.

"Sae, please. Be anything but sassy right now," you sigh, walking up to his side. You put your hand on his arm gently squeezing his bicep. "He's a little kid, he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions."

Sae stares down at the basin of the sink before turning to you. "Evidently, neither do I."

You shake you head and wrap your arms around his middle, hugging him tight. He's still for a moment, before his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head. Sae turns his face nuzzles into your hair. You turn your head and kiss him deep a slow. It's not enough to heal him and everything he's experienced, but it's enough that he can marginally relax in your arms.

"Hold him," you whisper as you part. "Hug him, rock him, put him to sleep in your arms. It won't fix everything, but it'll be a start at least."

"That's not . . . that's not the problem," Sae groans, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. "I just don't know how to look at him and not see . . . him. Rin."

The name sounds uncomfortable coming from Sae. He says it like his throats a rusty machine that hasn't been oiled in forever, the cogs being forced to run. It takes some energy out of him, you can tell, but it's the most Sae has talked about his late brother in a while, so you consider it a win nonetheless.

"Go," you say more firmly. "He should still be awake reading. Put him to sleep."

Sae sighs and nods, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before disappearing your sight and down the hallways to Haru's bedroom. As he opens the door, he sees Yuki tucking her little brother under the covers of his bed. She startles and Haru's eyes fly open. Both kids freeze under their father's gaze.

"Yuki," Sae's voice is flat as he steps inside, closing the door behind him.

"Mama didn't put Haru to sleep," Yuki explains sheepishly. "I didn't think you would either, so I decided-"

"You're not in trouble," Sae says softly, ruffling his baby girl's hair. He sits on the edge of Haru's bed, and his heart squeezes as the little boy shies away from him. Nevertheless, Sae continues. "I was coming, I just had to do some things first. I- I wanted to talk to you both about something."

Slowly both kids get closer to their father. Haru sits up and scoots closer and Yuki sits across her dad, her hands on his knee.

Sae takes a deep breath before finally speaking. "I'm sorry. I know I probably scared both of you when I got mad, and I'm sorry. I'm extra sorry to you, Haru," Sae's hand rests on his son's head, and he brings Haru closer. His son tucks himself into Sae's side and relaxes a little in his dad's warmth. "I shouldn't have said such horrible things to you. I . . . I can't say how sorry I really am.

"The thing is, recently I've been thinking a lot about my little brother."

"You have a little brother?" Yuki asks, perking up a bit more. Even Haru grows more interested.

Sae's mouth quirks up barely. He nods and explains, "Had. I had a little brother. He's gone now. He died before both of you were born."

Both Itoshi kids are silent before Haru begins to cry. Fat tears roll down his eyes and he shakes his head. Sae shifts Haru so that the little boy is in his lap now. Haru buries his face into Sae's shirt and Yuki just stares at her dad wide eyed.

"How'd he die?" she asks, her voice small and a bit afraid.

Sae takes a deep breath before he whispers, "Sometimes the world is mean to people. As your father, I'll do what I can to protect you from those mean people, but as an older brother . . . I didn't do my part. Sometimes, when the world is too mean, people can die.

"My little brother, Rin, was a victim of a too-mean world, and I was one of the people who was mean. I didn't realize it at the time, but just because I didn't know doesn't mean it wasn't true. Anyways, everything was really bad for Uncle Rin and he," Sae's voice breaks and he pauses, trying to collect himself, "he died."

Both of Sae's kids are silent as Sae talks. "I got married to your mom a year later. We were supposed to get married sooner, but your uncle's death messed me up. I tried to ignore it, but your mother refused to marry me until she said enough time had passed.

"But it wasn't enough time. I don't know if it'll ever be enough time. I never properly dealt with my emotions, the way Mama teaches you two to do. They just kept getting bigger and bigger inside of me, and I just exploded. I'm sorry."

Another tense silence falls over the three of them, before Haru mumbles, "I don't think you're mean daddy."

Yuki nods in agreement. "He's right, you're not!"

Sae squeezes his eyes shut, the sting in them threatening a wave of tears to come flooding out of him. He wraps his arms around both of his children, pulling them tight against him.

"I can be. I can be really mean some times," he whispers, his voice broken and hoarse. "I'm telling you this so you can tell me. Whenever I'm being mean, promise me you'll tell me, okay? Haru, Yuki, please." After both kids give their assent, Sae kisses them both on the head. "I love you both. I'm so sorry Haru, again, for being mean. You know that I don't hate you right? I could never hate you, ever."

Haru nods. "I know Daddy. I know you care about me a lot. Mama and Yuki both say so."

"But do you feel it?"

" . . . sometimes," Haru shrugs.

"Sometimes isn't enough," Sae sighs. He gives his son another squeeze before promising, "I'll make sure you feel it all the time, don't worry. Alright, Haru?"

Haru nods and Yuki smiles at her little brother's behavior. She hugs Haru from behind, sandwiching him with her father.

A couple more minutes pass by before your bedroom door opens. In steps your husband, a kid in each hand. You take Yuki from him and help situate them between the two of you. You hold Sae's hand over their bodies, Haru pressed against Sae and Yuki against you.

Sae stays up for a bit, watching over his family while they sleep, before his eyes finally start to droop. The last thing he hears before he finally gets some proper rest is his baby boy's voice, high pitched and innocent whispering, "Goodnight. I love you, daddy."

If a tear leaks from Sae's eye, well, no ones awake to see.

a/n: currently rewatching aot and i'm on season three and red swan was playing while I was writing this and baby eremika and armin got me in my feels

Taglist!!: @levihanmyotp

#bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #sae x reader #sae x you #bllk angst #blue lock angst #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff

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lotusbxtch · 7 months ago

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SoCal to NorCal: Chapter 3 - Mill Valley

Series Masterlist Chapter 1: Malibu Chapter 2: Hwy 101 & Beyond

Series Pairing: husband!Joel Miller x f!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales Series Summary: Joel is your rock, and Frankie is your ocean. So what happens when you bring the three of you together? - or - you and Frankie roadtrip up from Southern California to Northern California so he can meet Joel. A polyamory fic. This series exists in the Triple Frontier universe and is a Joel Miller AU/Triple Frontier AU. Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter 3: Mill Valley

Chapter Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader x Joel Miller Chapter Summary: The three of you are finally together, and sparks ignite passionate flames that will change everyone. Word Count: 8.8k - get a snack, it’s a long one! Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Warnings/tags: polyamory, consumption & preparation of food and alcohol, MFM dynamics, MMF dynamics, brief masturbation, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up, folks!), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, multiple creampies, cum kink, cum eating (Frankie is a bit of a cumslut tbh), squirting (there’s a lot of fluids lol i’m sorry in advance if that’s not your thing), slight size kink, gratuitous descriptions of male and female anatomy, heavy use of Spanish pet names/nicknames/phrases, Frankie and Joel are switches in this one, sub!Reader, Frankie the PEK, consent kings, Joel’s filthy mouth is absolutely its own warning but Frankie’s gets one too this time, romance, idiots in love, a splash of angst, soft!Joel but also menace!Joel because we love a man with duality, brief mention of Frankie’s young daughter named Isabella, brief mention of parental & relative deaths, Reader uses she/her pronouns, Reader is able-bodied, has breasts, and has hair that can be pulled, otherwise no description of Reader's skin color, size, body shape, hair color, eye color, or ethnicity, no use of y/n. Everyone is testing negative for STDs and Reader is on birth control.

a/n: the moment you’ve all been waiting for! This chapter was a labor of love because I wanted to get the dynamics *just* right. These three are so special to me, and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention @for-a-longlongtime (who also beta read), @mountainsandmayhem (my daddy and beta reader), and @alltheirdamn - my lovely girlies who helped me shape this story. Shoutout to @mermaidgirl30, @joelmillerisapunk, @sin-djarin, and @yxtkiwiyxt who I’ve given little previews of so we could scream together about them. Please let me know if I’ve missed any tags! Dividers & banners by the lovely @saradika-graphics, thank you. (Please note that the chapter graphic is NOT meant to be accurate to Reader — vibes only!)

If you enjoy my writing, please leave a comment, feedback or reblog! It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

“I don’t know why they call it the Golden Gate Bridge when it’s red and not gold.”

You roll your eyes hard as Frankie snorts at his own awful joke, and turn your attention to the blue-gray waters below you & the bridge. The breeze whips through your hair and the Jeep’s interior, ruffling your boyfriend’s dark brown curls peeking out from under his trusty Standard Oil ballcap.

“One more bad joke and I’m going to toss you off the Marin Headlands when we get over the bridge,” you quip at him.

Frankie grabs your hand, kissing the back of it with a smack. “You would never, hermosa.”

A bright smile lights up your face as you look at him. “You’re lucky that you’re so cute, Morales.”

After an early breakfast in Santa Cruz, you and Frankie continued northwards on your road trip. You opted to drive I-280, the highway providing fantastic views of the lush evergreen trees and rolling hills you loved so much. Frankie couldn’t get over how wildly green it all looked, especially since he’d spent so much time in Los Angeles amongst the concrete and manicured lawns.

You’d stopped for lunch at your favorite San Francisco dim sum restaurant, hotly debating with Frankie which one of the many bamboo steamer rounds contained the best dish - your favorite is xiao long bao, while Frankie favors black bean pork spareribs. Both of you agreed that the dan tarts were amazing, so you’d bought a few to-go for Joel to savor later. Now, you’re driving across the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin County, heading towards your and Joel’s house in Mill Valley.

You sigh and pull the forest green plaid button up a bit tighter around you; despite the sun peeking through, it’s still cold, per usual for this time of year in the north Bay Area.

Frankie clocks your movement, and smirks knowingly at the shirt. “Does he know you took it?”

“Maybe,” you purr mischievously. “He’ll know soon enough if not.”

Huffing a laugh, Frankie turns back to the road, flipping on the turn signal before hooking a right onto your residential street. Majestic redwoods line the road, towering overhead, and you sigh in relief and comfort at the familiar sight. Living here with Joel makes you feel closer to nature than your apartment in Los Angeles. The stress melts out of your bones with each breath of fresh air.

As you drive down the quiet street, you see your beautiful house appear. Slightly younger redwoods surround both sides of the corner lot property, isolated from your next-door neighbors. The two-story craftsman home is spacious but cozy, with warm-stained cedar shingles wrapping around the exterior, complimented by deep sage trim. Native plants thrive in the front yard, and smoke leisurely meanders from the chimney, lending an enchanted ambiance. It’s the perfect balance of your and Joel’s vibes: a modern forested haven.

Frankie approaches your river-rock paved driveway, pulling in carefully next to Joel’s well-worn charcoal pickup truck. Your heart swells in happiness at the sight of it. Following, however, are tiny pings of nervousness and excitement. You glance at Frankie; his expression is calm but unreadable. Typical of Frankie – his Delta Force background and introverted personality mean that he habitually retreats a bit into himself in new situations to observe quietly. Squeezing his hand, you give him a soft smile, which he returns as he squeezes your hand back and puts the car into park. It feels a bit strange to have your boyfriend in a place foreign to him but so familiar to you.

You hear your front door squeak open before you see Joel’s broad frame exit, dashing in a denim button up and his Levi’s. The double-denim outfit would look ridiculous on most other men, but not Joel; the weathered blue only enhances his rugged handsomeness.

Popping out of the Jeep, you call out, “Hi, baby!” while bounding over to him. His eyes flit over you, an amused look on his face when he spots your overshirt.

“I was wonderin’ where my favorite flannel went,” he chuckles. “Should’a known you were gonna take it with you.”

“It’s my favorite too,” you quip back, setting down the box of dan tats for Joel on the driveway so you can wrap your arms around his neck. You press a kiss to his full lips. “I can borrow it whenever I want. Wife privileges, you know.”

Joel rolls his eyes but smiles, giving your backside a soft smack and laughing when you yelp playfully. “Get your cute ass inside. We’ll take care of the luggage, baby.” You squeal in delight and nod, picking the box back up and heading towards the house. Frankie swings open the tailgate, removing his and your bags from the back.

Joel rounds the car, and Frankie takes a breath to steady himself. Everything is going to be fine.

“Hey, Frankie,” Joel greets the other man with a warm handshake and a clap on the shoulder.

“It’s so great to meet you in person, Joel,” Frankie says warmly. The two men look at each other for a moment, and then Frankie bends to pick up your luggage at the same time Joel does. Their hands brush at the handle and both jolt a little at the contact.

Frankie pulls back sheepishly, bringing a hand to the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Ah, I’ll let you take your wife’s things, I guess,” he sputters a bit. God, why do I feel so awkward with Joel? He literally told me to eat out his wife on video chat.

“You mean our girl,” Joel corrects before smiling at Frankie warmly, lifting the case with ease and tipping his head towards the house as he walks towards it. Frankie smiles tentatively at him and nods, a bit relieved, and grabs his own bag. “C’mon,” Joel says, “let’s get these bags inside so both of you can settle in a bit before we start prepping for dinner.”

Once the guys drop off the luggage into the entryway, you and Joel lead Frankie on a tour of your house. Dark hardwood floors contrast with the muted tones of the walls, each room a different soft color. The furnishings are modern with a slight vintage flair, creating a cozy yet refined atmosphere. A wood-burning fireplace sits in the corner of the living room, a fire softly crackling inside. You explain where each of your favorite decor and furniture items came from – you and Joel tend to patronize the local thrift markets and mom & pop shops, which creates a softly eclectic feel.

Frankie runs his hand across the back of the plush cream couch as he looks up at the skylights in the ceiling. “Tons of natural light, that’s awesome,” he notes.

“That was my one non-negotiable when we were looking at houses,” you note. “Say what you want about marriage being a compromise, but that was one thing I couldn’t imagine living without.”

Joel nods. “If she doesn’t get enough light durin’ the day, especially in the winter, she gets in a bad way,” he notes. You scoff at your husband’s (admittedly astute) observation.

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Frankie chuckles, admiring the bank of wide windows across the kitchen and the sets of French doors leading out to the enclosed patio and backyard. “One time in December, I caught her sunning herself like a lizard in this little shard of light coming into my living room.”

“Frankie!” you gasp in false indignation, eyes darting between the two of them as they suppress laughter. “Not even an hour in and you’re already ganging up on me? How rude.”

“That’s our girl,” Joel smirked, clapping Frankie on the shoulder as he leads the way towards the stairs to show him the bedrooms.

Our girl. Warmth seeps into Frankie’s heart as he follows Joel upstairs.

While you unpack your bags, Joel and Frankie head out to the nearby corner grocery for dinner supplies and the adjacent liquor store for some of the new shipment of Japanese whiskey that the store’s owner, Bill, had set aside for Joel.

Talking with Frankie is surprisingly easier than Joel thought it would be. He’s a bit more serious than Frankie, sure, and there’s a difference in age, but they have quite a few common interests; it turns out that both of them are football fans, for one. While Joel is a diehard Houston Texans fan, Frankie roots for the Los Angeles Rams. Despite their difference in football fandoms, they both are avid grillers. They also both fish: Joel prefers lake fishing and Frankie loves to go on ocean fishing excursions. Surprisingly, you’ve managed to turn them both into unironic fans of The Great British Bake-off – they agree that the camaraderie and wholesome nature of the show is a balm to the sometimes-cruel world.

As it turns out, they’re also similar in their values.

“For most of my adult life, it’s just been me and my brother, Tommy,” Joel explains, shifting the grocery tote on his shoulder as they walk back to the house. “Our parents died when we were teenagers, and then our only aunt in California passed away when I was 21 and Tommy had just turned 18. He was — is — a pain in my ass, but he’s my brother, so I did what I could to take care of the two of us. That meant workin’ in construction to make ends meet, and bailin’ his ass out after he came back from the Army and kept getting into trouble.”

Frankie huffs as he shakes his head. “I… can relate to that on a few levels. Mi mamá raised me alone in east LA. All we had was each other. When I got old enough, I joined the Army, too. Made it into the Delta Force.”

“That ain’t easy,” Joel notes, waving to the owner of the shop across the way.

Sadness flashes across Frankie’s face, but he quickly schools it, the operative in him taking over. “Yeah. My teammates and I ended up out in Florida after we left. Sort of became each other’s family.” He swallows hard.

Joel doesn’t miss the shift in emotions. “My brother was in Operation Desert Storm,” he explains. “The kind of shit they experienced together sort of… trauma bonded them to each other.”

Frankie nods in agreement, then hesitates, looking unsure. Joel knows from experience with his brother that military members aren’t often keen on sharing their vulnerabilities with others. He can’t imagine it’s any easier given he’s the husband of Frankie’s girlfriend.

They both stop to admire a miniature train set in motion in the window of a toy store. After a few moments, Joel turns to Frankie.

“I know you’ve had your fair share of difficulties, but I want you to know that you only have to tell me what you want me to know,” Joel says softly. “I’m practically a stranger, so I’m not expectin’ you to divulge your deepest secrets to me. But know that whatever you say, I won’t be passin’ judgement.”

Frankie exhales a shaky breath, clearly relaxing at Joel’s reassurance. He begins to walk towards the house once again, Joel falling into step by his side.

“I had a rough go of things after our last mission,” Frankie murmurs. He grows quiet for a few breaths, concentrating his gaze on the pavement under his feet as they walk. “To straighten myself out, I moved back to LA. Despite everything I’d done and been through, my mom never wavered in her support of me. And after a while, my daughter and her mother also moved back so we could share custody again. So, family is really important to me, too.”

He takes a deep breath, looking over at Joel, whose eyes haven’t wavered from his. A sense of recognition hangs palpably in the air between them. Joel’s never held anything against anyone who’s struggled in their life, especially if they’ve proven they can turn things around. He saw it with Tommy, and he can see it in Frankie’s countenance clear as day.

“I’m glad to hear that,” the older man says simply, giving Frankie a small smile. Although they’d met less than 12 hours ago, Joel feels far more comfortable around him than he imagined he’d be.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.

The incredible smells wafting from the kitchen wake you from your nap. Stretching your limbs, you climb out from under your sherpa blanket and pad to the kitchen. You smile softly, quietly taking in the scene before you. Joel is chopping green onions on the kitchen island while Frankie mixes broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots in olive oil, sprinkling in seasoning between tosses. Pearl Jam plays softly from the bluetooth speaker.

“Whatever you’re making smells so good,” you purr at Joel, kissing his neck and peering over his shoulder.

Joel chuckles. “That’s all Frankie, baby,” he says, motioning towards your boyfriend with his chin. “He’s makin’ us his famous roast chicken.”

You squeal excitedly. “Oh my god, yay! It’s one of my favorite things he makes!” Hopping over to Frankie, you wrap your arms around his waist and mold your body to his back, peppering kisses across his broad shoulders. He sets the bowl of vegetables down, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to face you.

“Joel mentioned that you’ve talked about it ad-nauseum so he finally wanted to try it for himself,” Frankie explains, placing his hands on your waist. “And you’ve hyped up Joel’s cheesy garlic bread, so I figured it would be a fair trade.”

You beam at Frankie, thrilled that the two of them are seemingly getting along great. “Your signature dishes! This is awesome.”

“It’s pretty much all I can make besides grilled meat and breakfast food,” Joel laughs while he mixes the garlic bread spread.

You giggle, draping your arms around Frankie’s neck as you look at your husband. “You’re lucky I like cooking; our cholesterol levels would be through the roof if it was up to you to provide sustenance.”

“And I thank the heavens every day that you do, sweetness,” Joel demures, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he walks around you and Frankie to grab the cut baguette for the garlic bread.

You turn to Frankie and notice emotions fighting across his face - warmth, admiration, and hesitation. He’s been reserved with his displays of physical affection since arriving, despite his usual habit of almost always keeping his hands on you at any given moment. To reassure him, you pull him into you and kiss his lips softly. He hums quietly and returns the kiss. Pulling back, he cups the sides of your face and caresses your cheeks with his thumbs, his eyes gentle, earthy pools of devotion.

Your heartbeat kicks up. Emotions flood your mind as memories of the road trip play in your mind, Frankie’s eyes searching yours while you breathe each other’s air. Words unspoken seem to thicken the space between the two of you.

The nervousness about Frankie meeting Joel has faded throughout the day — he fit so well into your dynamic with Joel that it almost felt like he’d always been there. Now, the fluttering in your stomach has more to do with why.

Your lips part, about to bring your feelings to the surface, but before you can, Frankie shifts slightly to gently smooch your forehead, then picks up the bowl of vegetables again. Your breath whooshes from your chest quietly, your lips pressing together. He turns his attention back to cooking and spreads the produce across a baking sheet.

“Do you mind putting another log on the fire, honey?” Joel calls over to you, sliding the garlic bread into the top oven before Frankie places his tray of vegetables into the bottom oven with the chicken.

“Yep!” you respond, padding back into the living room to toss more firewood into the flames. With both of your men engrossed once again in dinner prep, you meander to the couch. You sink into the cushions, biting your lip while your mind turns over where your blossoming feelings for Frankie might lead all three of you.

You want to ask Frankie if he feels it too: that pull of your heart to his, the tug that goes beyond just physical chemistry. The ease with which he slots into your life, this life with Joel. Does he feel like a puzzle piece has surfaced, one that he didn’t even know he was missing until it snapped into place?

And Joel. He’s always so good at reading people, so he has to have clocked your emotions, even if you’ve been denying them yourself. He’s okay with you sleeping with other people, and clearly he doesn’t take issue with you being affectionate towards Frankie in front of him. Nonetheless, he didn’t sign up for his wife falling for another man. The guilt settles like a film over the effervescent happiness of the day thus far. Joel is the ultimate giver to those he loves… but are you pushing him past his boundaries?

After your delicious dinner in the dining room, the three of you migrate back to the cozy couch, each nursing a finger of the Japanese whiskey, the complex swirls of subtle fruit, vanilla, and toffee dancing across your tongues. The meandering conversation shifts back to your (tried and failed) attempts at the Santa Cruz carousel ring toss.

“See, baby, I told you that chuckin’ that ring won’t do you any good.”

You guffaw at your husband’s disapproval of your carousel ring toss strategy at the Santa Cruz boardwalk. “Oh, I’m outnumbered? You actually agree with Frankie on this one?”

“Yeah,” Joel shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m glad someone else finally had the sense to tell you that just throwin’ the ring at the hole won’t do you any good.”

“Maybe if you quit clowning around and aimed, you’d actually make it in,” Frankie quips, and he and Joel dissolve into laughter at the cheesy pun.

You roll your eyes. “Ugh, I’ve created a monster. I can’t believe you both are so fluent in dad jokes. Clearly I’ve made a mistake bringing the two of you together.”

Joel chuckles, chuffing your chin with his finger and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Pffft, good try. I’ve known you long enough to know you love the cheese.” You roll your eyes again but can’t help a smile from gracing your lips.

You sit with your back leaning against Joel’s side, cradled by his strong bicep wrapping around your front. His fingers caress your shoulder and arm absentmindedly while the conversation shifts to Joel’s latest woodworking projects. Your feet sit in Frankie’s lap, his long, thick fingers massaging out a knot in your calf, head nodding and eyes on Joel as he listens and asks questions. Frankie’s been wanting to get into a new hobby that uses his hands, so he was excited when you told him that Joel is a lifelong wood crafter.

Looking between Joel and Frankie, you can’t help but feel your body begin to buzz - and it’s only partially the whiskey talking. Here are your two favorite men in the world, finally together, both with you. It’s something you only allowed yourself to dream about in the dead of night, when Frankie had Isabella with him and Joel was wiped out from work.

When you’d lay in your LA rental alone, body writhing under the sheets, thighs parted and fingertips slick with your arousal; swirling away at your center while fantasizing about your husband and your boyfriend taking turns with you, or even sharing you simultaneously. You’d bit the pillow to stifle your moans on more than one occasion as you came, dripping onto the sheets. Always assuming it was nothing more than wishful thinking, that Joel wouldn’t be keen on sharing you in person, that Frankie wouldn’t want to fuck you in front of your husband. That the three of you would never end up spending time together.

But now, it’s real. And you can’t wait a second longer to finally live your dream.

You try to be subtle at first: slipping your feet further up Frankie’s legs, shifting your body to press your breasts out more invitingly, and slowly letting your hand slide down Joel’s thigh. But Joel, if nothing else, is keenly observant, and he clocks your intentions immediately.

His voice halts for a moment, and then a deep chuckle vibrates his chest. “Whatcha doin’ there, wanderin’ hands?” he teases you, grabbing your advancing hand gently.

You feign innocence. “Oh, I’m not doing anything,” you blink up at him with big eyes, playing the part. “Just happy to have you two here with me.”

Joel huffs and gives you a soft sideways smile, his dimple popping at your games. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles sweetly. “Don’t you dare try to use the same tricks on me that you did 10 years ago. Naughty thing.”

His large hand shifts from your shoulder to your neck, clasping the breadth of it gently: not enough to restrict your blood flow, but enough to let you know he wants to call the shots tonight. Despite that, the action pulls a whine from your throat and makes you just as dizzy with need. Frankie swallows hard at the sight before him.

“Do you want us?” Joel asks.

“Yes, Joel,” you nearly whimper.

“Now tell me, sweetness,” Joel continues, leaning forward to murmur in your ear, “what d’ya want? Do you want us to take our time? Lay you out on the bed and take you apart piece by piece?” He presses a kiss to your jaw, sending shivers down your neck. “Or do you want us to ruin you right here, fuck you on these cushions until you’re screamin’ our names?”

The combination of absolute filth pouring from Joel’s mouth and his hand encasing your throat sets your body on fire and triggers slick to pool in your panties. You glance down at Frankie’s lap and see how hard he’s become in seconds. His pupils are blown, eyes obsidian pits of desire. There’s a part of you that wants them to take you immediately, but you know you want your first time with the two of them to be unhurried.

“Bedroom, Joel,” you breathe. “I want to make this last.”

Joel lets out a satisfied growl. “Good girl, telling us what you want. Do you want Frankie to kiss you?” Frankie’s breathing gets heavier as Joel releases his hand from you and nuzzles your cheek.

“Yes, god, please,” you whimper. Frankie places one of your feet on the ground carefully and spreads your legs so he can crawl on top of you, kneeling at the base of your thighs. After taking off his hat, he glances up and makes eye contact with Joel, who gives the slightest nod. It’s not lost on you how close the three of you are, breathing the same air, panting with need.

You pull Frankie to your lips, hands framing his face just as he cups the base of your skull with his palm. The moment your lips touch, both of you let out stifled moans, and you melt when you feel Joel’s arm wrap tighter around you. His big paw slides over your torso to cup your breast through your flannel - his flannel - and your tank top, thumb teasing your nipple into a hard peak.

You and Frankie continue to deepen the kiss, the arousal growing between all three of you. One of your hands glides over your husband’s meaty thigh to palm at his quickly-hardening cock. The other winds its way into your boyfriend’s silken curls, pulling lightly and eliciting a hiss from him.

He bites your lower lip and grabs your hip, grinding his length against your jeans-covered center. “Fuck, nenita,” he groans. All you can do is whine his name in response.

“Let’s take her upstairs,” Joel directs, sucking a quick hickey into your neck that makes you gasp. Frankie nods and wraps your legs around his waist while you continue to pepper kisses across his face and neck. Both men ascend the stairs towards the main bedroom with you in tow.

Once you step foot in the bedroom, Frankie sets you onto your feet and immediately starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth when you gasp. His hands slide down to cup your ass through your jeans. You open your eyes briefly to look for your husband, who’s leaned against the door frame, arms folded casually, as if this is just another Friday evening.

Frankie bites your lip, eliciting yet another gasp from your mouth, while Joel stalks towards the two of you. He slides behind you, grabbing Frankie’s hips to pull the both of you into him, and grinds his thick erection against the swell of your backside. Frankie jumps a bit, surprised, but groans lowly in his throat. Moaning, you reach your hand back blindly to guide Joel’s head towards your neck. He chuckles, knowing exactly what you want, and sucks another love mark into the soft skin there.

You feel intoxicated, on another planet, ceasing to exist in the bounds of time and space. Just floating, a vibrating being made only of raw desire for the two men surrounding you.

“Help me get her clothes off,” rasps Joel, and the two of them work in tandem to strip you of the offending garments. Four hands pull cloth away, stroke your hot, exposed skin, glide along your curves, making you sing the sweetest song of sighs, whines, and whimpers. You break your kiss with Frankie when he looks down to pop the button to your jeans, and turn your head to the side to pull your husband’s mouth to yours, noticing the infinitesimal difference between the taste of him and the way Frankie tastes. Joel growls into you, sliding his tongue along your teeth, and you swear your legs are going to turn to jelly. Joel’s leather & spice scent intertwines with Frankie’s rosemary and cedar aroma, combining into the perfect addictive cocktail.

All you can see, smell, taste, touch, feel, is them. Your men.

Once you’re stripped bare, you look between the two of them. “Please,” you beg, and the two men nod, starting to hastily shed their own clothing. You climb onto the bed, the olive washed-linen bedding soft against your heated body. Spreading your thighs, you slip your fingers around your drenched folds, body humming with need. A needy whine escapes your lips, and Joel looks up from dropping his jeans to his ankles.

“Uh-uh, darlin’,” he tuts. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself.” You withdraw your fingers but pout. Frankie smirks at your display of frustration while he whips his t-shirt off, baring his golden chest.

“Listen to Joel if you want to get your rewards,” Frankie reminds you. You part your thighs wider for him, hoping to entice him into breaking. He groans at the sight, his eyes becoming glassy. “You’re playing dirty,” he grouses.

Joel, now completely bare, looks over to see you laying your trap for Frankie. He shakes his head. “Naughty girls don’t get their sweet little cunts licked,” Joel singsongs at you.

He grabs you gently by the throat. “Listen very carefully if you want to come tonight.” You nod, your body flaring with desire at Joel’s dominance as you give him your full attention. “I’m going to sit against this headboard, and you are going to sit right between my legs, with your back to me. I’m going to spread your pretty thighs for Frankie and he’s going to eat you out until you come for us. Understood?”

You nod rapidly. “Words, sweetness,” Joel reminds you.

“Yes, Joel,” you barely manage to squeak out. Joel murmurs approvingly, and slides himself behind you. Bracketed on either side by his strong thighs, you’ve never felt more safe.

Once the both of you are settled in position, Joel leans towards you again. “What’s our safeword?”

“Persimmon,” you and Frankie say in unison.

Joel looks up at Frankie, slightly surprised, a devious smile curling his lips. “Such a good girl, explaining our rules to Frankie,” he purrs into your ear, and you preen at the praise. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his gaze flick momentarily to Frankie’s naked body and hard cock bobbing proudly, and you feel his breath catch in his chest.

“If things are getting to be too much for either of you, we can slow down or stop,” he reminds both of you. With that, Joel grips your thighs with huge hands.

“Frankie,” Joel commands gently. “Come suck on her pretty little pearl.”

Frankie’s smirk deepens, and he slinks onto the foot of the bed, crawling on hands and knees towards the two of you. You drape each of your legs over Joel’s thighs, and he uses his hands to angle you open even further. Frankie’s eyes shift between your shining center and your flushed face as he lays himself between your thighs. You feel entirely exposed, on display.

Frankie licks his lips, and you let out an anticipatory whimper.

“You’re desperate to taste her, aren’t you?” Joel prompts Frankie. You see your boyfriend’s dark eyes meet your husband’s deep amber ones, so similar.

“Been thinking about it all day,” Frankie admits, slowly dragging his lips and tongue from the inside of your knee to the junction of your thigh. “Driving me crazy with those tight jeans of hers.” Shivers erupt across your skin, your breathing harsh from their teasing.

“Those are my favorite pair of her jeans,” Joel agrees. “They cup her ass so nicely.” Frankie hums, biting your thigh gently and then soothing the pinch with his tongue. You keen quietly and arch your back.

“Look at how wet she is for us,” Frankie notes with adoration, teasing the outside of your slick folds with the pads of his fingers, watching how your pussy clenches on nothing. He chuckles, then swipes his digits through your arousal and brings them to your lips.

“Taste yourself, nenita,” he husks, and you comply, sucking his fingertips into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them. Your own sweet tang coats your mouth. He groans, grinding into the mattress, and then Joel is grabbing your chin to kiss you. Your lips part with a sigh, and Joel massages your tongue with his own, tasting your flavor for himself. His chest vibrates against your back with his growl of satisfaction.

Frankie’s hands grip your thighs as he watches the exchange. “She always tastes so damn good,” he hums, kissing your cunt with a smack.

Joel parts from your lips and nods. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever eaten.”

You squirm and moan, making Frankie chuckle again. “Is there something you want?”

“Does our girl need to come?” Joel croons, running his hands along the inside of your thighs.

Nodding your head rapidly, you beg, “Please, Frankie.” You see Frankie’s lip curl into a smirk, and then he licks a broad stripe up the length of your cunt. A high-pitched whine escapes your mouth as you throw your head back against Joel’s sturdy shoulder.

“That’s right, let Frankie know how good his mouth feels,” Joel coaxes you, and Frankie starts eating your pussy with vigor. He keeps his hands on your thighs, opening you wide for your boyfriend, who’s latched onto your swollen clit and is suckling it gently while he strokes your inner walls with two fingers.

“You’re making me feel so good, baby,” you gasp, looking between your legs at Frankie coaxing your body into pleasure. Joel’s hands briefly squeeze your thighs harder at your words. His cock presses thick and firm against your lower back, aroused at watching another man bringing you pleasure. One of your hands reaches back to grip Joel’s arm, while the other tangles in Frankie’s soft curls, keeping him locked onto your core. Finally being held by the both of them at the same time makes your head spin.

Your orgasm gathers in your bones, your breaths coming in pants as your legs start to shake. Joel slides his right hand from your thigh up your torso to your breast, flicking your nipple with his thumb until it pebbles, causing you to gasp.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna come,” you moan to your husband, your boyfriend doubling down on your ministrations to your folds.

Suddenly, Joel booms, “Stop, Frankie.”

The younger man immediately parts from your center and looks at your husband, eyes flashing with surprise and another, more feral emotion. You whine loudly, your orgasm beginning to fade.

“Joel,” you beg, both a question and a plea. He smirks against your neck.

“Did you ever notice how when you deny her orgasm, her whole chest and neck flushes hot?” Joel asks Frankie, almost as if you aren’t there. Your cunt pulses, desperate.

“N-No, actually,” Frankie stammers slightly, pupils blown as he looks at your naked body, a shimmer of sweat coating your skin like dew. “I… never actually deny her an orgasm.” His eyes move back to Joel, desperation tinging the periphery. “I just want to make her come, over and over again.”

Your chest heaves, dizzy with need. Fuck, this is so debauched and hot.

Joel’s smirk deepens. “Ahh, how sweet, always giving our girl what she wants,” Joel purrs. “It’s a good thing you follow directions like a good boy.” You swear you hear a moan that Frankie barely swallows.

“Kiss her,” Joel orders Frankie, and Frankie audibly groans this time before he crawls up your body to capture your lips with passion, making you gasp. He licks into your mouth, claiming you with visceral, searing intent. You whimper against him; tasting yourself on his tongue drives you mad. As you and Frankie continue to feed off each other, Joel sucks hot, wet kisses against your throat. You keen and press yourself into Joel harder, grinding your ass against his throbbing cock. He growls a bit, thrusting his hips lightly.

“Joel, please,” you beg in between kisses with Frankie.

“Tell me what you need, darlin’,” your husband coos.

You pull away from Frankie and take a steadying breath. “I need… more. I want to be filled up.”

Joel groans at your words, biting down at the juncture of your shoulder and neck, making you whine. “Fuck, such a needy little thing aren’t you?”

An impatient whine escapes your lips, and this time it’s Frankie chuckling. “Tired of my mouth on you, baby?”

“Never, Frankie,” you rasp. “I could never get enough of you.” Frankie kisses you deeply again; your fingers intertwine with his curly locks as your heart flutters. Breaking the kiss, you admit, “I want to feel both of you at the same time.”

He fucking whimpers at your request. Joel smiles wickedly into your shoulder.

“Well go on, then, sweetheart,” Joel rumbles. You lift your hips just enough for Joel to line himself up and sink into you. Both of you moan simultaneously as he fits himself snugly inside of your pussy. Pleasure sings in your veins, making you arch your back when he bottoms out.

Joel licks a line from the base of your neck upwards. “Feel better?” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, biting your earlobe. You gasp wordlessly, your core clenching on his thick length, making him groan in response. “Fuck… I’d say that’s a yes.”

Frankie sits back on his heels, taking in the sinful sight before him: Joel’s thick thighs holding you up; your soft legs spread open for him; pussy split open lewdly on Joel’s cock; your slick and cream gleaming at his base. His dick jumps, his eyes trained on where the two of you are joined.

In a potent haze of arousal, you start to grind on Joel, seeking any ounce of friction to quell the fire in your core, but he seizes your hips with his large paws, halting any movement. You cry out in confusion and need.

Joel snickers, amused. “Not so fast. I didn’t tell ya to move, did I?” You close your eyes in sweet frustration, your head tipping back against Joel’s broad shoulders as you shake your head.

“I’m gonna give you what you need, sweetness,” your husband promises you, then turns to Frankie.

“Francisco,” Joel commands. Your boyfriend snaps his head from looking between your legs to staring right into Joel’s eyes. His breathing picks up, a weighted thrill cascading down his spine from hearing his full name straight from Joel’s lips.

“Give our girl what she wants. Suck on her clit until she comes. And if she moves, don’t you dare give her your mouth. Understood?”

Frankie nods, his lips parted and soulful brown eyes full of desire. I’m so fucked, you realize in that moment.

Your boyfriend lays between your and Joel’s legs once again, subtly grinding into the mattress. He locks eyes with you, hovering over your throbbing clit, and blows cool air across it, making you twitch desperately as you will yourself to stay still, your velvet walls squeezing around Joel.

“Good girl,” your husband growls gently, kneading your hips reassuringly. Frankie props himself up on his elbows, then brings his thumb to your clit, gently pulling back on the hood to fully expose it. Swollen, flushed with heat, and shining with your arousal, Frankie can’t get enough of the sight.

“So beautiful, querida,” Frankie whispers reverently, then his mouth closes around your bud and sucks.

Restricted in your movements and trying to follow Joel’s directions, the flare of pleasure you experience is released by your body as a long, low moan. Frankie groans at your taste and sounds, his tongue swirling over your pearl in a precise pattern, and with the exquisite stretch of Joel’s cock against your walls, your nerves feel like they’re on fire. Your orgasm once again begins to build, slick slowly drenching Joel, his length swelling harder inside of you with every minute that passes.

“Frankie,” you beg, “I want to come so badly. You’re making me feel so good.” His eyes flash to yours.

It’s like a switch flips in Frankie, and suddenly, your sweet boyfriend turns into a menace.

“Aww, pobrecita,” Frankie mocks lovingly, pressing a kiss to your clit. “A fat cock filling you up and my tongue playing with your little clit isn’t enough for you? So demanding for someone who has to be allowed to come.”

You gasp at Frankie’s words, not used to him being such a tease, but Joel’s dark laugh only eggs him on. Determined to pull out all the stops, Frankie flattens his tongue and traces the length of one side of your pussy, accidentally brushing right against Joel’s shaft in the process.

Your husband lets out a surprised moan and his cock throbs. His reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend.

“Joel?” Frankie asks, eyes wide, a dozen questions conveyed in a single look.

You turn to Joel, conflicting emotions flickering across his face: yearning, confusion, vulnerability; but glazed over it all is a powerful desire. Joel’s never shown interest in other men, you remember. You and Frankie hold your breath.

One of Joel’s calloused hands tentatively moves from your thigh to tangle in Frankie’s hair, cupping his skull. You feel Frankie’s shoulders shudder. The two men’s eyes lock.

Joel gives Frankie a small nod.

You feel the relief and excitement wash over Frankie’s figure in waves. “The safeword applies for you, too,” Frankie reminds Joel gently, and Joel nods again. The three of you breathe for a moment, on the verge of exploring uncharted territory.

And then, Francisco Morales begins to simultaneously, single-handedly, take you and Joel apart.

Frankie slides both arms under your and Joel’s legs, his hands coming up to grip the sides of Joel’s thighs from beneath to anchor him to the both of you. Joel’s cock twitches inside of you the second Frankie’s fingers brush his skin. He looks down at Frankie, his lips parted in awe, eyes dark with desire. Frankie holds Joel’s gaze as he gently licks the base of Joel’s shaft.

Soft moans crawl their way out of your husband’s throat, his grip on your thigh tightening even more as his other hand explores Frankie’s curls. Frankie laps at it again, this time dragging his tongue further up and onto your pussy lips, swirling around your clit again. You and Joel both moan sequentially, the sweetest sounds that Frankie’s ever heard in his life. His senses are flooded with your and Joel’s essences.

He continues licking Joel’s cock and your pussy, and slowly, your husband’s resolve begins to crumble. The wet, sloppy kisses Frankie laps across the two of you leave Joel panting for more, and he struggles to remain still inside of you. Meanwhile, your head is reeling - your boyfriend is licking your husband’s dick, and he’s enjoying it. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine this happening – and now, you can’t see, hear, feel anything but that.

“Frankie,” you whine, “please let me move.”

He peeks his head up from between your legs, where he’s been dutifully preoccupied. His lips shine with your arousal, and when he parts from your body, Joel groans in protest as well. Frankie smiles smugly, looking up at the two of you. “Do you think she deserves to come?” he asks your husband.

Joel’s chest heaves against your back. “Yes,” he grits out, his voice sounding raw. “She’s been so good for us.”

Frankie looks at you diabolically, his smile nearly predatory. “Look at that, nenita. Guess Joel is gonna reward you after all.”

Joel slides his hands from your thigh and Frankie’s head up your torso to cup your breasts gently, squeezing the heft of them and working his thumbs over your nipples. You keen, and he pulls your hair to the side to brush his lips over your neck. Shivers erupt across your skin.

“Go on, darlin’,” Joel encourages. “Let Frankie see how well you ride my cock.”

You groan in relief, and shift your legs to plant your shins against the bed. Rising up, you keep your eyes on Frankie while you slip Joel’s cock almost all the way out, and then swirl your hips as you slowly sink back down. Both men moan in unison; Joel closing his eyes and throwing his head back against the headboard, and Frankie with his gaze flitting between your face and the show between your legs.

“You look so good stuffed with Joel,” Frankie purrs, his face inches from where your most intimate parts slide together. You seat yourself further onto Joel. His fat tip kisses your cervix, teasing the nerve endings there, then he slips into just the right corner deep in you that only he and Frankie have ever found. Your loud gasp tells the men everything they need to know.

“Right there?” Joel asks rhetorically when you start to rock against it, your breath speeding up. You nod your head rapidly, mewling with pleasure. He thrusts up, meeting you with each movement.

Frankie takes that as his cue to latch back onto your puffy clit, and a hoarse whine rips from your throat. He moans in response. The vibrations from his voice pull you closer to your peak, your hips working against both Joel’s cock and Frankie’s mouth.

Moans, gasps, and whimpers fill the air. A thick fog of hedonistic energy crackles between the three of you. Every cell of your body is vibrating with pleasure. Your hand finds Joel’s own, tangled in Frankie’s hair, and your fingers intertwine, fully under the spell of the man bringing the both of you to the brink. Beneath you, you feel Joel’s thighs begin to shake, his thrusting becoming erratic. He’s right at the cusp of his orgasm.

“Frankie,” Joel groans, “Make our girl come.”

Frankie doesn’t need anything else. He swirls tiny, precise, fast circles against your throbbing pearl with his tongue, and between Joel’s cock and Frankie’s mouth, you shatter.

Spasms wrack your pussy as you squeal your two lovers’ names in succession, and both men curse. Below your thighs, you feel Frankie’s hand move to cup and massage Joel’s heavy sack, then he’s licking at Joel’s length desperately.

“Come for us, Joel,” Frankie begs. You swear you feel Joel stop breathing.

In the wake of the moment of stillness, Joel’s cock erupts inside you, his hot seed painting your cunt. A strangled cry shoots from his lips, and his hand crushes against Frankie’s skull and your fingers. His entire body shakes, and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt your husband fall apart so thoroughly.

Frankie, drunk on your dual orgasms, laps ferociously between your thighs, drinking up the combined nectar of your and Joel’s cum. The minute the both of you begin to relax, Frankie surges up, kissing you deeply. He feeds your and Joel’s essence to you with his tongue.

You’re in an absolute haze of ecstasy.

“Please, sweetness, I need to fuck you,” Frankie pleads, his body shivering with need. You lean forward, sliding off Joel’s cock, and let Frankie shift you until you’re perpendicular to your husband, draped across the middle of the bed on your back. Your boyfriend gets off of the mattress and stalks to the side where your feet lay, then pulls you towards him by your ankles until your hips are nearly dangling off the edge. His hard cock bobs angrily, the tip glistening with precum.

“Let me see you,” he whispers, spreading your thighs open. Your pussy is obscenely glazed with Joel’s cum, his milky spend clinging to every fold and curve between your legs. Frankie lets out a pained moan, and your breath hitches in response.

“Goddamn,” Frankie murmurs devotedly. “You’re a goddess.” He guides his cockhead through your silky folds, both of you moaning at the slipperiness. Your head lolls to the side. Joel watches you with tired but desirous eyes, clearly enjoying Frankie taking his turn. His softened cock lays across his thick thigh, the last of his cum dripping from the tip.

“Frankie, please,” you whine, spreading yourself even wider, your cunt fluttering in anticipation. Frankie groans, then shifts forward, spearing his hardness into you in one long thrust.

The sensation makes you keen, your back bowing off the bed sheets. Frankie secures your parted thighs with a large hand clamping down on each, and he moans unabashedly at the sight of his cock spreading your walls, some of Joel’s cum seeping out. Sinfully slick heat envelops his length, and it takes everything in him not to come on the spot.

“You’re still so tight, amorcita,” Frankie grits out, “still taking me so well.” He pistons in and out of your wrecked pussy, his thickness slicked up in your and Joel’s releases. Wet squelches from your pussy float through the air, dancing around your whines and Frankie’s grunts of pleasure.

It’s sensorially obscene in the most delicious way.

Waves of bliss wash across your body as Frankie drives you further towards your second orgasm. Sweat shines across his strong body; it clings like dewdrops to his forehead, his dark curls sticking to his skin here and there. You grasp his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality while he kisses that devastating spot within you with his cock. Unable to resist, you snake your fingers down towards your clit, starting to swirl and press exactly how you like it. A whine breaks free from his lips when he feels you start to tighten around him.

“Nenita,” Frankie cries out, his cock swelling even harder. “You feel so damn good.” He pauses to catch his breath for a moment, then gently moves your hands to your thighs, keeping them spread for him as he swipes his thumb over your throbbing pearl. Your moan hitches in rapturous pleasure. With Frankie fully in control of your body, you surrender to his ministrations, eyes sweeping across the sight of him driving himself deep inside you.

The bed shifts beside you, and you feel Joel pressing kisses over your heated skin. “You look so beautiful taking Frankie’s cock,” he murmurs. Your mind buzzes with warmth at his husky baritone, his lips leaving tingling trails in their wake across your forehead and neck. His calloused fingertips trace circles around your pebbled nipples, pinching and soothing repeatedly to enhance your pleasure.

Looking up at your husband, you whisper, “Kiss me.” Joel obliges, kissing you deeply, sliding his tongue along yours, your lips and tongues dancing as Frankie continues to cause your orgasm to rise further in your limbs with every thrust.

It’s even more perfect than you could have imagined.

Frankie moves your legs to rest upright along his torso, ankles on his shoulders, and the new angle has you breaking your kiss with Joel with a high-pitched whine. “Oh fuck, Francisco, right there,” you practically sob. Frankie leans his body into you a bit more, burying himself to the hilt each time, and Joel reaches over to rub your clit.

Having both men focused on bringing you to climax is a heady potion. Your thighs start to shake and every breath turns into a reedy cry. “Joel… Francisco… fuck!” you moan, tightening around Frankie’s girth, his thrusts beginning to speed up as he approaches his own orgasm. “You’re gonna make me come!”

“Then come for us, sweetheart,” Joel husks, and it’s enough to have you clamping down on Frankie’s cock, finally shattering with a scream.

Your cunt floods with slick, and when he withdraws slightly, you gush, splashing Joel’s hand, your thighs, Frankie’s cock and belly, and the bed. Frankie grits out a loud moan as he slams home, each thrust making you gush more, until he reaches his peak. He whimpers your name loudly as he buries himself a final time and unloads his spend into your pussy, his cum mixing with Joel’s inside of you, filling you to the brim. As your twin releases wane, Frankie carefully pulls out, collapsing at the end of the bed beside you, the both of you breathing hard.

“Good girl, darlin’,” soothes Joel, kissing your neck. Tears from the intensity of your peak roll down your hot cheeks. Your senses are pleasurably muted, brain fuzzy in the afterglow. Frankie rolls towards you at the same time Joel slots himself right next to you. Laying a hand on each of their bodies, you try to ground yourself as you come back to Earth. The thick musk of sex permeates the air; all three of you breathe heavily, blanketed with endorphins. Frankie and Joel both affectionately stroke your body, their touches soothing instead of arousing. You take turns kissing each man; your mouths move slowly against each other, soaking in the intimacy.

You knew your first time together would be hot, but you didn’t predict it would feel damn near magical.

After a few minutes, Joel sits up, stretching. “Why don’t you two get cleaned up in the shower, and I’ll change the sheets?” You nod, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, then gives Frankie’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. The two men hold each other’s gazes for a moment, fondness and shyness battling in their eyes, then Frankie pats your thigh.

“C’mon, bebita, let’s get you clean,” Frankie encourages you, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. He offers his hand to you and you accept the help, wiggling almost bonelessly off of the bed. Giggles bubble up your throat when you have to stem the warm flow of their seed from between your thighs with your fingers. Joel smacks your ass gently as you pass, eliciting more of your laughter as you and Frankie enter the bathroom.

You watch your boyfriend set up the dual-head shower, perching yourself on the marble countertop across the room. Your hand is still pressed to your center, but when Frankie’s done adjusting the water temperature, he spins around, getting to his knees in front of your spread thighs.

“Let me see,” he asks softly. You remove your fingers, letting the mixture of their warm cum seep from you like honeyed nectar. Frankie hums approvingly, then delicately laps at your folds and inner thighs to clean you up with his mouth. You run your dry hand through his curls, sighing happily, licking the taste of the three of you off the fingers of your other hand. Frankie looks up, and instantly captures your lips with his, radiantly smiling against your mouth.

The bliss, the peace, the happiness… you feel three little words rising in your throat. And you don’t know how much longer you can hold them off.

Or, at this point, if you even want to.

Have thoughts/thots, feelings, SCREAMS, asks? My inbox is open! 💌

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staylovesmiley · 1 month ago

Text

Mixtape: OH~ Chapter 2

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Han Jisung x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; Having a crush on your friend/roommate while trying to navigate college life is hard enough as it is, what happens after you find out the secret he has been hiding?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; college!au, female!reader, angst, smut, mentions of sexual harassment, alcohol and drug use, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime “kiss him, not me!”~

It was haunting you. The words your roommate and crush had written about you and your childhood best friend who now stood beside you in the thrift store as you both meticulously looked through the rack of clothes in front of you. “Oh this is so cute!” He gasped, pulling out a crocheted cropped tank top, holding it up against your torso with a smirk. “You would so rock this. I bet Hanji would like it too.” He gave you a wink before tossing it in your cart. Han Jisung. Fuck- you couldn’t escape him and the itch to tell someone about what you had read was killing you. You knew you could never tell Jeongin about it, it was just too uncomfortable and you knew he’d freak out and probably immediately confront the author about it. It just…wouldn’t end well. “If you say so- that is why I brought you here, to help me build a better wardrobe.” You sighed with a little eye roll playfully as he continued to pick things out for you, your cart almost overflowing by the end of the shopping trip. “Whatever you don’t end up keeping I’m sure Felix would take off your hands.” He shrugged while you checked out. You just hummed in agreement as you both carried the multiple bags out to his car. You hadn’t said much the entire hang out and he seemed to be catching on that something was wrong as he began driving you back to your apartment. “Okay, spill. You have been a total space cadet all afternoon.” Whipping your head to look at him from your spot in the passenger seat you felt your eyes widen. “Hey! I totally have not-“ Scoffing, Jeongin rolled his eyes. “You ate about half the paper on your ice cream cone before I called you out cause you weren’t paying attention. Just tell me what’s on your mind, no judgement.” You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing how judgmental he could be. “Promise! Just spill, ‘kay?” You sighed and settled back in your seat, feeling a bit small under his insistence. “I may have um…the other week I saw something on Jisung’s computer that I wasn’t supposed to and now I’m not sure what to do-“ Jeongin smirked a bit, pulling into the parking lot of your apartment. “Whatever, like…weird porn or something? Was it bad? Cause like- you could use that to your advantage ya know. If you know what he’s into you could somehow take that knowledge and get him to confess first since you’re too chicken to do it first.” You chuckle nervously before shaking your head. “Can we just- drop it? I don’t wanna think about it anymore…let’s go wash these clothes and you can help me come up with some good outfit ideas-“ Sensing how uncomfortable you were, he dropped it as you had asked and nodded with a smile. “Sounds like a plan! I’m gonna make you look so good no one is gonna recognize you!” You gasped, a hand coming up to lay across your chest. “Excuse you! Are you saying I look bad now?!” He laughed as he parked the car and began grabbing some of the bags you’d purchased. “No! Just- as I’ve stated countless times…you hide your figure too much and dress like a crazy old cat lady! You’re hot but you don’t dress to show it off like you should!” After reading what Jisung had written about the two of you, hearing Jeongin call you hot made you shiver a bit in disgust but you tried to play it off as you got out of the car. “I don’t dress like a crazy old cat lady- I dress teacher appropriate!” Jeongin shook his head again as he followed you inside the house. “Yeah well you aren’t a teacher yet so that can wait until we graduate.”

Two days later and you are laying sprawled out on Chris and Celine’s bed as she rummages through her closet. She had asked you to come over and keep her company while she did some cleaning and reorganizing and you needed to get out of your apartment for fear of running into Jisung. You had been lowkey avoiding him, not super intentional at first it was just that your schedules didn’t align and then as you started to be home at the same time more often you couldn’t shake the itch of your knowledge of his secret. “Can I…get your opinion something really weird?” You say suddenly, feeling the bed dip beside you almost instantly as she took a seat. “Of course! You know you can tell me anything.” You sighed, blinking up a the ceiling before looking at her. “You cannot tell anyone. Not even Chris!! Like- especially not him…or Innie.” Now she wore a look of concern, eyes flickering from your face to your stomach and then back again. “Oh my god are like- pregnant or something?” Your eyes widen and you sit up straight. “What the fuck no? Celine-“ you groan a bit, shaking your head. “The other day at the library I saw something on Jisung’s computer while he was in the bathroom…and it’s- I don’t know what to feel or how to think?” She nods a bit, gesturing for you to continue. “It was smut. Like- really well written and detailed smut…but it was- oh god it’s hard to even say it!” You whine, flopping back on the bed with your hands covering your face. “Well come on spit it out! You’ve got me on the edge of my seat. Was it of you and him? Him and another girl? Him and an animated girl?!” You let out another groan in frustration before answering. “It was of me and….me and Jeongin-“ She gasps loudly, hands coming to cover her mouth in shock. “Oh no- that’s…that is kinda weird-“

The room is silent for a moment before she speaks up again. “How did it make you feel? Like- what went through your mind when you saw it.” You sigh, dragging your hands down your face before staring back up at the ceiling. “I don’t know….confused? Disgusted? Mildly hurt-“ Celine nods and lays down beside you on the bed. “Okay let’s unpack this bit by bit…let’s start with disgusted, yeah? What about it was disgusting to you.” Frowning, you shrug a bit. “Just- like ew why Innie of all people he’s like my brother?” Celine nods in agreement before continuing. “Understandable. Now, confused?” You nod as well, turning on your side to face her. “Like…what does it mean- why would he write that about me and Innie? Like…I don’t understand what would make him do that..” your friend sighs and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Okay, now what about hurt?” Your frown deepens and you shrug again, arms coming to hold yourself for comfort. “Does this mean he doesn’t like me? If he is writing me having sex with other men is that a sign that I have no chance with him-“

She frowns as well, pulling you in for a cuddle as she pets your hair gently. “I don’t know, Winnie…I think maybe he is confused? I mean- you and Jeongin are so close maybe he thinks there is something going on with you two and this is his strange way of coping with that? You know he can be an odd one sometimes-“ you nod and your head rubs against her neck and chin in the process causing you both to giggle. “That or maybe he’s just a cuck? Like- he gets off to the idea of you with other men or something. I wouldn’t say this means he doesn’t like you back.” You grimace at the thought. You aren’t one to kink shame but that just doesn’t seem like something you would be into let alone with your childhood best friend. “I think you should find a way to talk to him about it, yeah? I don’t know how but just sit on it for a bit and figure out a way to bring it up that isn’t confrontational so you don’t scare him off.” You sigh, relaxing in her arms. “Okay…thanks, Celine- I needed your motherly advice.” She laughs, swatting playfully at your head. “Hey I’m not that much older than you!” You both fall into a fit of laughter before resuming your designated tasks of you lounging in whatever room she is working in as you chat with her as she does her chores.

You start to relax a little bit after your talk with Celine, slowly falling back into your normal routine as you now stand in the kitchen cooking dinner while Jisung pulls up the show you had been in the middle of watching together before you began distancing yourself. “I’m so glad we finally have some us time. It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!” He pouts, leaving his place on the couch to wrap his arms around you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder. Us? What does that even mean- your mind is back to reeling over the physical affection and the way he said that simple word…Us. “Yeah, me too Hanji~ you’ve been so busy I thought you were gonna shrivel up and die due to lack of kdrama syndrome or something.” You giggle, swatting his hand when you catch him reaching to steal a piece of meat you are grilling. “Patience, it’s almost done.” Jisung whines but listens, shuffling back over to flop on the couch.

You join him a few minutes later, two ready made plates in your hand. You already knew what he liked and didn’t like so there was no need to call him over to make his own plate. You told yourself this was just another sign that you two would be perfect together, that there was so much potential while the other part of your brain screamed that there was no way he would ever reciprocate the feelings.

Dinner and Drama, as you both nicknamed it, went as usual with the both of you ending up cuddled on the couch with empty plates sitting on the coffee table. Jisung gave a yawn as the episode ended before detangling himself from your body. “Alright- bed time for me…I’ve got early classes tomorrow then work the rest of the day.” He gave a little groan as he made his way to the kitchen with both of your dishes. “Yeah same here- do you want help with those?” He shakes his head, waving you off with his free hand as he gets to work washing them off in the sink. “I got it! Go ahead and get some sleep, yeah? Maybe we can meet for lunch tomorrow before work or something.” You nod, giving him a small wave before heading towards your room. “Night Hanji!” “Goodnight, Winnie!” He calls back as you close your door behind you.

Sleep doesn’t come easily and instead you lay wide awake wondering if both what Celine and Jeongin said could be true…and maybe Jisung was into you and maybe you could use his writing and what he’s into as a way to get closer to him. You bolt upright in bed and quickly pull out your laptop. The name on the top of that fictional story you had read was burned into your memory, never to be forgotten and with a quick google search you find it. You can’t believe he actually published it onto some fanfiction site. It had been a complete shot in the dark to try looking for it that way but here it is. You click on the profile that had uploaded it and you almost let out a yelp in surprise. With your hand covering your mouth you scroll, eyes wide as you see not only the story about you and Jeongin but even more stories all with tags that only seemed to get raunchier the further down you went. Is this what he does in his free time? You always thought he just worked on music with Chan and Changbin but I guess there was another side to this poet than just lyrics. As you look over the account you see a post from only a few days ago, your eyes flickering over the tags before you open it up curiously.

You read for a while, eyes scanning over the words as your heart began to race. This story was also about you but instead of Jeongin it was….Hyunjin? Intrigued a bit, mind racing through the fact that Jisung has now written explicit stories of you with not just one but two of your close friends. It started off mild at first but the more you read the more your skin begins to flush.

He slowly pressed hot open mouthed kisses on her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she really wanted him. 'Jinnie, please,' she whines, bucking her hips without meaning to.

'Don't tease.'

Even with the cool autumn breeze entering the apartment from your slightly ajar bedroom window, you felt your body heating up as you were unable to tear yourself away from the screen in front of you.

'Hmm patience is a virtue, Winnie,' he grins against her skin, nipping at it with his teeth while his hands tighten around her thighs, keeping them still. 'The more you beg, the slower I'll go'

Your mouth fell open slightly, one hand on the mouse pad slowly scrolling down as you read while the other gripped at the material of your sweatpants you had worn to bed that weren’t really yours at all but ones you had stolen from your roommate one day when you had run out of clean pajama bottoms that you hadn’t brought yourself to return yet.

She moans loudly when his tongue finally touches her clit, it's feather light, but pleasure zaps through her spine anyways. He licks her more thoroughly then, pulling her closer to his mouth as he feasts.

At that, you slam your laptop shut and scoot away from it until your back hits the headboard of your bedframe. Your face is flushed and your heart is racing so fast you feel like you can’t catch your breath. You feel a bit scandalized, and to further that scandalizing feeling, a bit turned on. What the actual hell-

You take a few deep breathes, rubbing your sweaty palms over your clothed thighs before opening the laptop back up. You don’t think you can stomach reading any more of his writing tonight, but you feel like there is more going on with this little secret of his so before you can think about it too much, you switch on the vpn you use to stream anime off of shady sites and create yourself a very non-descriptive account before clicking the little follow button on Jisung’s secret blog. Once it’s done you put your laptop away and lay back down to try and find sleep that will never come as you know the next morning you will have to face both Jisung and Hyunjin and pretend that what just happened never happened.

If he wants to keep secrets than you can to. Game on.

authors note; everyone say thank you to my wifey @chancloud8 for writing the smut bits for this chapter because I wasn’t in the right headspace and it was literally the only thing holding me back from finishing this chapter today~ i know it’s a little on the shorter side and I made you all wait so long for an update on this story but I hope you all enjoyed it! Pls let me know what you thought and where you think the story is gonna go from here~~

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @chancloud8 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @extremechaoswarning @jisunglyricist @imeverycliche @estella-novella @tirena1 @silly250 @h0rnyp0t @haradasaya @jaquisos @bookswillfindyouaway @ramadiiiisme @ssunglver @soobingf-blog @painterhyunjin @headfirstfortoro

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zepskies · 10 months ago

Text

Lost on You - Part 7

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Consequences of the game.

Word Count: 5.2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! More smut, show level debauchery, implied threesome, drug use, some light, some dark, violence and angst. (We're diving into some canon S3 content.)

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Part 7: Welcome to the Jungle

“Yes, well, Countess and I decided to end our relationship shortly after we wrapped on Red Thunder,” Ben explained to Jason Carver.

A little damage control could go a long way, coming from Soldier Boy himself. Vought News was one of the most convenient outlets for it.

“I know there’s been a lot of talk, but it was a mutual decision,” Ben said. “We still have a lot of love for each other. It just wasn’t working out.”

“Well, it sounds like it ended on good terms then,” said Jason.

“Yeah, so anyone who wants to run their mouth about it can come straight to me,” Ben said, with a stern set to his brows as he looked into the camera.

Jason uttered a slightly nervous laugh. “Well, I don’t think there’s anyone that brave.”

Ben shot him a smile. “Let’s hope not.”

“But are the rumors true? There seem to be some sparks between you and Sirena.”

Ben relaxed his posture a little, all while calm and controlled in his seat.

“She’s a special woman,” he admitted, with an incline of his head. “I can’t deny, we have…a connection.”

“Wow. You two have really hit it off since she joined the team,” Jason observed.

“Well, you know how it is, Jason,” Ben said. He glanced over and found you in the dark, standing next to a PA. You smiled.

“I’ve always been a man who knows what he wants,” he said.

“Shit,” Ben gritted out, his eyes rolling shut.

His gloved hand was fisted in your hair as you showed your gratefulness—on your knees, sucking him off from base to tip. He had to brace himself against the wall of one the makeup trailer. You two hadn’t even left the studio of Vought News when you took his hand and led him in here with a sensuous smile and an unspoken promise.

“You sure do have a talented fucking mouth,” he said with a smirk.

You hummed around his cock in response while your lips and tongue continued to work him over. The sensation nearly made his eyes cross. His blunt fingers bit into the wall, creating divots there and stirring up paint and plaster dust.

But if he could still talk, you weren’t satisfied. You squeezed his ass through his uniform pants, pulling him even closer. His hips rocked forward, forcing you to take him deeper until his cock hit the back of your throat.

You gagged for a moment, but you took a breath through your nose to steady yourself, blinking through the sting of involuntary tears in your eyes. Then you slid your lips back down him again. This time you relaxed the back of your throat and managed to take him fully without gagging as much.

His grip was getting tighter in your hair as muttered curses fell from his lips. You winced, but you kept going. You could feel him getting close; his thighs locked with strain, and his cock throbbed a warning in your mouth.

A cross between a grunt and a shout escaped him along with his release. You swallowed up as much of his spend as you could, but it still dribbled from the corners of your mouth and down your neck. You eventually released him with a soft pop, panting heavily.

He had to catch his breath as well while he leaned against the wall. His fingers untightened from your hair, petting your head instead.

“Good girl. Jesus,” he said shallowly.

You smiled and helped yourself off the floor. You grabbed a hand towel from one of the makeup artist stations and wiped your face and neck, ruined lipstick and all. Ben was trying to play off his recovery when you turned back to him.

His gaze on you was satisfied, and yet, still simmering with heat. He grabbed your arm and guided you against the wall. He caged you there with his hands molded to the curve of your waist. His touch was warm even through your leather suit.

“Countess may have some fireballs for me in my future,” you remarked.

Ben snorted dismissively. “Don’t worry about her.”

You weren’t so sure. She probably hadn’t done anything publicly to you yet because she was afraid of Ben. At this point, having him in your corner was protection—both for your career and for yourself.

You tipped your face up at him with a more playful smile.

“You really think I’m special?” you teased.

Ben chuckled through his nose. “You’re fucking something, all right.”

His tone was laced with amusement, but you saw the edge of it in his eyes, and you felt it with your abilities. You sensed the sincerity in him, tinged with…fondness, maybe? Even for you, it was hard to parse out.

It was definitely something beyond lust. Was he even capable of something more?

And is that what you want?

He gave you one last kiss, distracting you from that troubling thought. His lips moved slowly against yours for a change. It was affectionate, as he cupped your cheek.

“Come see me tonight,” he said when he finally pulled away. He gave you a slap on the ass to punctuate his request. Your hand wrapped around his forearm before he could turn away.

“How about a change of scenery? You could come to my place,” you suggested. He didn’t look enthused.

“Come on, I’ll even cook for you,” you added.

Ben raised a brow. “You cook?”

“Well, I’m no Martha Stewart, but I can whip up something good.”

Your smile was a tease as you slipped by him. You stopped in front of the mirror to fix your hair and lipstick. You briefly met Ben’s gaze in the mirror’s reflection. His brow was quirked. Was he waiting for you or something?

“What? I can’t go out looking like this,” you said.

At that, Ben smirked. He came up behind you and grasped your hips where you were bent over slightly. He pressed into your ass from behind, prompting you to straighten up and lean back against his chest. You couldn’t help a smile of amusement. Did this man ever get tired of fucking?

To your surprise though, he just pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His eyes once again met yours in the mirror.

“I think you’re a fucking sight,” he said, picking a bit of his spend out of your hair.

You bit your lip out of embarrassment, but you couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped you.

It made him smile.

It was another facet of your evolving plan. Now that you had Ben in hand, you needed to keep his attention. A man like him appreciated certain values, and you had a feeling a woman who could cook was one of them.

It took some trial and error and a lot of praying, but you managed to make a decent roasted chicken. Ben seemed impressed enough. He ate half of the entire bird by himself, along with two helpings of mashed potatoes with gravy, even the parmesan broccoli. But as always, you two couldn’t seem to get through dessert.

Or rather, he took the cheesecake you bought into your bed and licked the accompanying raspberry syrup off your body. By the end, you were a sticky, sated mess (as usual). The bedsheets were a disaster, but you knew what you’d been getting into when you invited this man over. You had an extra set of clean sheets waiting in your dresser.

Ben smoked a large blunt afterwards, his eyes half-lidded as he drifted towards dozing off. When you noticed his eyes closing, a small alarm went off in your mind. You leaned over and stroked his arm.

“My bed doesn’t really compare with yours, does it?” you said. Which was true. His was even more plush and soft than yours. Not to mention, his bed was a California King. Yours was a modest queen-sized.

He shrugged and blew out smoke. “‘S not so bad.”

He dabbed his blunt in the ashtray and put it out for now. He raised his arms and folded them behind his head. He groaned and settled in against your pillows. You hid your wary frown.

Shit, maybe you’d miscalculated by inviting him over. You hadn’t thought he’d actually want to stay the night.

“Nooo, don’t fall asleep,” you playfully whined. You rolled over onto his chest and laid kisses along his jaw. “Why don’t we go take a walk or something? Go on a little adventure.”

Ben cracked an eye open at you, but he soon closed it again. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Come on, super-man. Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” you goaded.

At that, Ben’s eyes opened, and he frowned at you.

“You just stuffed me full of food like it’s Thanksgiving—”

“You’re the one who went for seconds. And thirds, mind you.”

“Gave me a fucking workout—”

“Which you started.”

“I may be the strongest man on Earth, but I still need to recharge every now and then,” he said gruffly. “Keep sassing me though. When I wake up, you might just find yourself bent over my knee.”

You tried not to smile. Sometimes his grumpiness was just too amusing. It didn’t seem like he was going to get out of your bed though.

Sighing in defeat, you got up and tugged at the ruined sheets he was resting on.

“Come on, at least let me change these.”

With an annoyed huff, Ben got up just long enough for you to remake the bed. He hunkered back down before you were done, making it harder for you to lay down the last one correctly, but you rolled your eyes and gave up, tossing the sheet half-made over his bare legs.

You went into the bathroom to clean yourself up. Hopefully by the time you came back, he’d be asleep. You’d make your way to the couch with a spare comforter and sleep there.

It might’ve seemed strange, but you had never actually slept with him in the same bed. It wasn’t personal. You’d made it a habit to always sleep alone.

So after a quick shower, brushing your teeth, and slipping on an old shirt to sleep in, you padded quietly back into your bedroom. Sure enough, Ben looked to be fast asleep. He laid on his back with an arm curled over his stomach. Like this, he looked peaceful. Even docile.

The thought made you smirk as you went to grab a spare blanket from your closet. You draped it over your arm and went to your nightstand next. You just wanted to grab the book you’d been reading from the top drawer. You did so very carefully, knowing Ben’s hearing was sharp.

Once you’d successfully retrieved the book and slowly shut the drawer, you turned to head for the door. A hand shot out and grabbed your elbow. You gasped and jolted slightly, but of course it was just Ben. His fingers wrapped around your arm. His eyes were open, barely.

“Where’re you going?” he rumbled.

“Um, just to go to the couch and read for a bit,” you lied on the fly. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

With a dismissive huff, he tugged you back and hauled you effortlessly back into the bed. You yelped in surprise. The book went tumbling off the side of the bed while the extra blanket got coiled between your legs. That strong arm curled around your waist. Possessive.

You turned your head across Ben’s shoulder and stared at his face. He shot you a smirk, then closed his eyes. His chest moved with his deeper breath, as it evened out in sleep.

You frowned. The man could be demanding, sure, but you never expected him to act this way. It did cause a flutter of something to rise in your belly. Something warm, and equally unexpected.

You sighed and allowed yourself to relax against him. You rested your eyes. Just for a little while, you told yourself. Then you’d try to extricate yourself.

Somehow, you never got around to it.

You woke in the morning to something warm and firm under your cheek. Your eyes slid open, and you were met with the bare chest of your lover. He was awake, sitting up against the headboard as he sipped at a mug of coffee. He glanced at you with a subtle smile pulling at his lips.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” he said.

You smiled sleepily. Yawning, you turned and curled yourself into him without really thinking about it. But then it hit you, how intimate this was…and how much that conflicted you inside.

You eased away from him with a faked yawn, stretching your limbs, and gaining at least a few inches between you. Ben watched you do it with a certain glint of knowing in his eyes.

“You moan in your sleep,” he remarked idly.

You shot him a look of surprise. “I do not.”

“Yeah, you do. I fucking heard you,” he said. His lips pulled at a smirk. He set his coffee down and rolled over, trapping you underneath him. He thumbed at your chin. “Here I am thinking, ‘This dirty little girl. Didn’t get enough last night, did she?’”

You bit the inside of your lip against a smile. Your face warmed with a blush.

“Is that why you don’t want me in your bed?” he asked. “You embarrassed, sweetheart?”

At that, you frowned. “No, it’s not…”

“Because believe me, I’ve seen weirder shit,” he said. “There was one girl who sleepwalked into my fucking closet. That one was a headscratcher… Aw hell, one girl even took a shit in my bed.”

You gaped. “Seriously?”

He grimaced at the memory. “And tried to blame her Pomeranian. Think I don’t know a human shit when I see one?”

You blinked in bewilderment and disgust. “Dear Lord.”

Ben stroked your side.

“So you got nothing to worry about,” he said, a slow grin curving his lips. “Some little sex noises don’t bother me.”

You laughed a little, but then you chewed on your lower lip, looking up at him. You didn’t know what compelled you to be honest in that moment.

“It’s not that, it’s just…ever since I got my powers, I’ve felt safest sleeping alone,” you said.

Ben’s amusement faded. “Why’s that?”

“I’m not like you,” you admitted, touching his chin with your fingertip. “When I’m asleep, I’m vulnerable, just like everybody else.”

He seemed to consider what you were saying with furrowed brows. You itched to sweep his hair away from his eyes, but you kept your hands to yourself.

“Well, you’re safe with me,” he said eventually.

You tilt your head at him. You wondered if he really meant that, or if it was just part of the façade of “charm” he was trying to portray. Even with your skin touching his, you couldn’t quite read his heart to parse that one out.

You had to pull back on the connection before he realized that you were trying…

But then again, maybe it was you who didn’t want to know for sure.

Christmas came around sooner than you expected. This time of year was heavy on your heart, after your mom’s death.

“I’ll be back before New Year’s,” you said, leaning up to give Ben a kiss. You were in his apartment saying goodbye. His personal chef was in the kitchen cooking up something that smelled amazing, but you had to leave. You had to pick up your father in Brooklyn and drive both of you over to your brother’s house in Queens.

“What’s the winter like in Indiana?” Ben asked in curiosity.

You blinked. Fuck if you knew, but he still thought you were a smalltown girl from the boonies and the cornfields.

“Um…cold. Snowy. Same as here, basically, but the wind isn’t going to cut through your bones when you turn a corner around a skyscraper,” you said.

Ben gave a mild shrug in response. Like he was ever going to go to Indiana.

“Well, gotta go catch my flight,” you fibbed, but you grew curious about something as you peered up at him. “What’re you doing for the holidays? Seeing family, or…”

Again, he shrugged. “Nah, I’ll be here. I don’t get into that corny festive bullshit.”

You frowned. Something told you it wasn’t just that he didn’t do Christmas. He didn’t seem to have any family, or friends outside of Vought, for that matter. If you can count any of those people friends.

Was he really just going to be here all alone until New Year’s Eve?

Perhaps for the first time, you felt a bit bad for him. You knew you couldn’t invite him over for your holiday plans, however.

So you gave him another kiss goodbye, and you left.

You returned in time for Vought’s annual New Year’s Eve bash. According to Tommy and Tessa, it was legendary. First, there was a huge banquet held for all the big wigs and the investors and the press. That was just to load up on good food and champagne.

The real party was the afterparty, made up almost exclusively by supes employed by Vought—from all across the country. Of course, Payback were the guests of honor, with Soldier Boy leading the pack on free booze and lines of drugs smoked or snorted across most available surfaces.

You felt overwhelmed by all of it at first. In fact, you almost left the party. But then you saw a very drunk Countess in a little red cocktail dress, offering Ben to take a shot of tequila out of her mouth. It stirred irritation in your gut.

You grabbed the nearest bottle of alcohol, went over to them, and subtly touched Countess’s bare shoulder.

Give that shot to Tommy, you compelled her.

With that small trill of your power, Countess stood straighter and beelined straight for Tommy. She grabbed him by the back of his head and surprised him with a deep tequila kiss.

Gross.

You grimaced at the sight, but when you looked back at Ben, he was smirking in amusement. He slid an arm around your waist and spoke closely in your ear.

“Let’s have some fun.”

The next morning, you sat up in bed with a groan. Your head pounded with a horrible hangover of at least three different substances. You wiped the remnants of powder from your itchy nose. And you were naked.

You drew the sheets to cover up to your breasts, which accidentally pulled the covers off another warm body beside you—a mystery woman. Someone you vaguely recognized as another supe from the party. She woke with a wince.

“Ooh, fuck, where’s the bathroom?” she asked. You were bleary-eyed, but you managed to point over to the left. She nodded and slowly got out of bed.

You wiped at your face and realized that Ben was there as well. It was his bed, after all.

He was slowly waking up too, looking more than a little fucked up himself. You groaned and slid under his arm, resting your head against his chest. Mistakes had been made, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give a shit.

Way to ring in 1984.

There was a reason you didn’t like group training sessions. You watched with a grimace from your corner of the matt, along with the TNT Twins. For sure, they did not want to be next in the ring with Ben. His idea of training wasn’t very…constructive.

“Lighten up, Gunpowder. I’m just playing around,” Ben said, as Countess helped the younger man off the floor in concern. His eye was already swelling up, along with his bloody lip. He was too exhausted to even get off the mat. You’d tried stopping Ben fifteen minutes ago, but he hadn’t budged.

He now rolled his eyes and walked away from Gunpowder, waving a dismissive hand. “You fucking pussy.”

Your brows furrowed with your frown. You were cautious as you approached him again and lightly touched his arm.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked. “Ben, he’s only eighteen.”

He shot you a stern look.

“Don’t fucking start with me.”

He was definitely tougher on the men than he was on you or Countess, but still, it wasn’t easy to watch. This was the side of him you didn’t often see when you were alone with him. With you, he was still crass and arrogant, but sometimes, his harder edges softened the slightest bit.

In front of the team, he was Soldier Boy. He could be callous, and even cruel. It reminded you of every mission you went on together; every brutal, fatal move against the “bad guys,” and every innocent life that got caught in the crossfire.

The double doors to the gym opened, and in came Black Noir. You grew concerned, as you sensed anger coming off of him in waves.

“You’re late,” Ben said, crossing his arms. “We started at 3.”

“I really wanted that movie,” said Noir.

“The hell are you talking about?”

“I just got off the phone with my manager,” Noir continued. “It’s a no-go on Beverly Hills Cop.”

“Oh, that,” Ben said, with a roll of his eyes. Your own widened a fraction.

Noir stepped forward, his hands balling into fists. “I was born to play Axel Foley. Why would you say all those horrible things about me to Don Simpson?”

Your mouth fell open in shock. Don Simpson was a big deal. He’d produced Flashdance just last year.

“Jesus, Ben. Really?” you said.

“Zip it, Sirena,” Ben snapped. Your mouth fell shut, even as you glared at him. He rarely called you by your supe name behind Vought’s closed doors.

“The guy’s supposed to be funny,” said Ben. He pointed back at Noir. “You’re. Not. Funny.”

“Well, I…could’ve been,” Noir said, a little weakly.

If there was one thing Ben couldn’t stand, it was a weak spine.

“You’re not good enough!” he barked. “Now shut your cockhole, and get to work.”

“But—” The moment Noir grabbed the other man’s shoulder, you knew it was going to be bad.

Ben turned and threw a swift punch that would’ve rattled any supe’s spine, even if they did have super strength. It wasn’t even a contest. He beat Noir down bloody on the mats, no matter what you or the others shouted out.

You were horrified, and you couldn’t stand by and watch anymore. You hurried over and tried to touch Ben’s arm. Maybe you could calm him down.

“Ben, stop! He’s had enough—”

He meant to just rip his arm out of your grasp. Maybe he’d shove you out of the way, out of his way. But the momentum of it sent you to the floor, with the wind knocked out of you.

It managed to briefly cut through his anger. He paused, seeing the shock and the stricken look on your face. You were looking at him like he was some kind of animal.

Deep down, he felt like one too. He just couldn’t allow himself to show it.

“That’s what happens when you don’t stay the fuck out of the way,” he growled.

You blinked wide as wet tears gathered in your lashes. It struck a cacophonous chord inside him, down to his bones.

He turned away from you to glare down at Black Noir. This was his fucking fault.

“You think you can be me?” Ben sneered. “You’re not a movie star. You’re not shit. I see you getting outta line again, trying to ‘move on up,’ I will put you in the fucking ground. Understood?”

Noir, fucking pussy that he was, stayed there on the ground covered in his own blood. By the time Ben turned back to where you’d fallen, you were no longer there.

You were gone.

You left the gym in tears. You pulled a staff member aside and let her know that Black Noir and Gunpowder were going to need medical attention.

“Are you okay?” she asked in concern. “Do you need—”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, even though you were still crying. It was more embarrassment at this point. You knew what Ben was from the very beginning. You’d just never thought he would…

Sucking in one deep breath, you steeled yourself. You wiped your face dry and forced your expression to ease into nothing. Blankness.

Show them what you want them to see.

He tried to come see you that night, but you wouldn’t let him into your apartment.

He sent flowers—some bullshit roses, with an apology written on the card.

I'm sorry.

You threw them in the trash.

You were done playing this game. It wasn’t worth it.

He wasn’t worth it…

Or so you felt, for the first few days. You began to wonder just how much shit Countess had to put up with for the years that she was with him. You wondered if he’d ever hit her.

You replayed that moment over and over in your mind. You knew if you hadn’t intervened, Ben wouldn’t have shoved you. He hadn’t truly meant to, you thought. With his strength, you were lucky it hadn’t been worse.

He didn’t mean it, you tried to rationalize. Even as you tried not to think about Gunpowder, or Noir, bloody on the floor.

Because at the end of the day, being with Ben was still good for your career, and if you kept denying him like this, he’d likely just go back to Countess.

So, even though it took a huge chunk out of your pride, you ventured to the elevators and up to the penthouse suite. By now, your feet knew this path by heart, even if your stomach churned with unease.

You stood in front of Ben’s door for a minute, just thinking. You knew this was the lowest you’d ever been. Was your career really worth debasing yourself like this?

Well, your question was soon answered when the door swung open. You hastily stepped back as a trio of smiling, giggling women came out from the apartment, all of them high-heeled and scantily dressed. Behind them was Ben in a black silk robe. His hair was a mess, and he had that post-nut look on his face, along with a layer of drying sweat. They all stunk like weed and sex.

Ben paused in the doorway when he saw you. His amusement faded. You let the girls slip past you without comment. Then you crossed your arms and looked up at him flatly.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. At least, nothing good.

“Hey,” he said.

You nodded. “Right.”

You turned from him and started walking down the hall the way you came, but Ben reached out fast and grabbed your wrist.

“All right, look—”

He turned you around, only stopping short when you gasped, your eyes glowing with thinly veiled power on reflex.

“Let go of me,” you demanded. Your tone was firm, but you both heard the fear in your voice. His jaw clenched.

It seemed Ben did have a sliver of a heart somewhere inside his chest, because he let you go. You continued on your way, scrubbing furiously at the sting in your eyes.

“Dad, I just…I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you confessed. You were sitting on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands. You didn’t want to burden your brother, who had his own family, his own problems. So you called your dad first. Tears slipped down your cheeks and bled into your jeans.

“I think I need to come home,” you sniffed.

“Aw, honey. I’m sorry to hear you’re having such a hard time,” he said. “But you knew it was going to be difficult. You’ve been doing so well too.”

“I know, but—”

“And your mom’s medical bills might be taken care of, but I’ve still got the house to pay off. If it wasn’t for my back, I’d be out there working two and three jobs like I used to, but you know, I just can’t do it anymore.”

You rubbed at your tired, bleary eyes and sighed.

“Yeah. Okay, I know,” you said. “I’m going to help you, don’t worry.”

“So you’re gonna stay right? You’re going to work it out with Soldier Boy? You two do look good together, I’ve gotta say. What happened exactly? You didn’t uh, really explain that part.”

Your lower lip trembled. “Actually, Dad, I’m getting a page. Let me call you back later, okay?”

“Oh. Well, okay, sweetheart. I’m here for you. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Your next conversation was in Arthur Cohen’s office. You’d marched in while he was on the phone and said:

“I’m quitting the team.”

Arthur, professional that he was, gave you one look before he told whoever was on the other line that he’d call them back in a minute. Then he turned to you with his full attention, folding his hands on his desk. His many gold and silver rings shone in the lamplight.

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” he asked. As if to say, Did I just hear you correctly?

You remained firm. “I want out of my contract. I’m quitting Payback.”

Arthur needed a beat on that one. “…Ah. I see.”

He held out a hand to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Please,” he gestured. You reluctantly obliged.

“Okay, I understand you’ve been going through some hard times—”

“Do you?” you intoned, tilting your head.

He nodded. “Believe me, I do. The problem is, you’re under a two-year minimum contract. You’re only about a year in. If you want out, no problem. I can do that for you.”

“Good,” you said. “Let’s make it happen.”

He held up a hand. “However. If you back out of this deal, remember that we invested in you. You’ll have to give back the advance we gave you, plus everything we’ve spent on your marketing, your new suit, your training, not to mention that little incident we smoothed over a couple months ago. A lot of lawyers and red tape. It’ll drive ya nuts…but it all adds up, unfortunately.”

Fuck. It hit you almost like a physical blow, a deep churning in your stomach. What kind of soul-sucking contract had you signed? Had you even read the fine print on that one?

For a long moment, you stared at Arthur’s desk in silence, to a point where he began to fidget slightly. You raised your head.

“All right,” you said, with a perfect smile. “I understand.”

Then you got up and left.

Arthur heaved a breath of relief. Fucking supes.

His door opened again, but to Stan Edgar. Arthur still didn’t know what to make of this guy. There was something about his calm, unfazed demeanor that Arthur didn’t trust.

“Sure, screw my lunch break. What can I do for ya?” he drawled.

Stan raised a brow and handed a thick file to him.

“I just got off the phone with Director Kasey from the CIA,” he said. “We’re approved for Nicaragua.”

AN: 🫣 Ooh, don't hate me loll. It's gonna get worse before it gets better. I did warn about morally charcoal characters in this series, especially Ben himself. (He's got a lot to learn, and so does Sirena, for that matter.)

And now, we hit another pivotal moment...

Next Time:

“We’re all playing a game, Irving. Just at different levels,” you said. “For example, what were you talking to Stan about?”

You’d seen them a couple of hours ago, hidden behind a fortified stone wall. Noir stopped walking. You were curious enough to follow suit.

“Something that could change everything for all of us,” he said. “You included.”

Your brows knitted together. “What’re you—”

Shots rang out in the clearing.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 8

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presleyvinyl · 4 months ago

Text

ELVIS PRESLEY MASTERLIST

PROMPTS - OPEN

About prompts: I can and will deny prompts if I don't feel comfortable writing them!

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄: ˢᶜᵃᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʳᵃᵖᵉ/ⁿᵒⁿ-ᶜᵒⁿ

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: some of my fics (the ones I first posted) will be getting deleted and others too. I've also decided to take a break with a lot of smut and posts more fluff (smut once or twice and then fluff most of the time, so still writing it just not always) because I'm getting a bit tired of writing NSFW. For the one-shots I've decided to remove that category and put those fics with BD!EP category, I think it'll make it a lot more easier. M̳o̳s̳t̳ o̳f̳ m̳y̳ f̳i̳c̳s̳ d̳o̳ c̳o̳n̳t̳a̳i̳n̳ h̳e̳a̳v̳y̳ s̳m̳u̳t̳, i̳f̳ y̳o̳u̳'r̳e̳ n̳o̳t̳ a̳ f̳a̳n̳ o̳f̳ t̳h̳a̳g̳, p̳l̳e̳a̳s̳e̳, j̳u̳s̳t̳ i̳g̳n̳o̳r̳e̳ i̳t̳ a̳n̳d̳ d̳o̳n̳'t̳ o̳p̳e̳n̳ t̳h̳e̳ c̳u̳t̳. T̳h̳a̳t̳'s̳ w̳h̳y̳ t̳h̳e̳r̳e̳'s̳ a̳ c̳u̳t̳ t̳h̳e̳r̳e̳ a̳n̳d̳ t̳a̳g̳s̳/w̳a̳r̳n̳i̳n̳g̳s̳. Please, don't be upset, just something I want to do and will be trying out.

Welcome to my Elvis Presley master list! Here, you'll find all my writings related to the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. This list will be updated regularly, so be sure to check back for new content!

✦ Series ✦

Caring For Presley | Part 1 | Part 2| 1973 Elvis | UNFINISHED

✦60s!Elvis✦

Aloha, Love - early 60s Hawaii Elvis | SMUT | 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 | one shot

Pretty Mess | 1960 EP | SMUT |

Messy & Wrecked | 1969 EP | SMUT | Subby!EP | unnamed!man x Elvis x reader

✦ Big Daddy!Elvis✦

Jetstream Hearts - 1974!Elvis | ANGST | Part 1 | Part 2 | ℂ𝕆𝕄ℙ𝕃𝔼𝕋𝔼𝔻

Lil' Lamb | Vampire!E.P | Part 1 |

Hush Now | 1975!E.P | DD/LG | Fluff

Backseat Riding | Any timeline of BD!EP | SMUT

After concert hours - early 70s EP | SMUT

A Sight To See - early 70s EP | Fluff

An Angry Presley Is A Rough Presley | early 70s EP | SMUT

Branding The Brat | early 70s EP | SMUT

Little Trouble | 1972!EP | Fluff

✦drabbles✦

Left Behind - 1975! Elvis | double drabble

All My Love - early 1970s!Elvis | double drabble

Oh, My Angel - early 1972!Elvis | double drabble

Marked Up - 1970!Elvis | double drabble

Ocean Dream - early 70s Elvis | Triple Drabble

Just A Peak - early 70s EP | ficlet

✦protective!dom!husband!Elvis (p!dom!h!EP) - collection of fics (some may/may not be connected and none are/will be in order)✦

Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere, Baby - 1973!Elvis | SMUT (spanking)

Hands Off My Baby - 1973!Elvis | SMUT

✦Jess Wade✦

None yet

✦Dr. John Carpenter✦

Unorthodox Treatment | SMUT

✦Walter Hale✦

None yet

✦Stepdaddy!EP - collection of fics (some may/may not be connected and none are/will be in order)✦

Under The Table | SMUT

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis the pelvis #elvis x you #elvis x reader #elvis presley #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley x you #elvis presley smut

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awkward-halfhug · 3 months ago

Text

once more, with feeling | warren peace x reader

summary: warren says something that has you questioning your place in his life. he apologizes later, but can he undo the damage he's done? (aka the one where you make warren grovel)

requested here

contents: warren being mean (just for a second), kinda sunshine!reader but we give her anxiety, little bit of angst, groveling, obviously,, origami, area reader discovering cognates in real time, i make warren even MORE multilingual, fluff

4.5k

(also on my ao3)

You're excited.

You're often excited, but right now you're extra excited. You've raced to the Paper Lantern on your bike, arriving right around when you knew Warren would be getting off work.

You wait outside, peeking in through the windows to see if you can catch a glimpse of him. You're maybe a little early.

Looking at your watch you realized you were a lot early.

You check your wallet and mentally calculate how much you can afford to spend right now. Deciding you don't really need that cool keychain you were going to get at the mall later, you enter the restaurant.

You bob your head around, looking for Warren, until the hostess catches your attention.

"Just one?"

"Yep" you smile wide at the lady.

With an eye roll, the hostess brought you to an empty table. It was one that would probably be considered undesirable, considering its proximity to the kitchen, but it suits your needs just splendidly.

Thanking the hostess, you set up your homework, since you have some time to spare, after all. And when the waiter comes, you put in an order for the smallest thing on the menu.

The first time Warren leaves the kitchen, bin and rag in hand, he doesn't see you. Which is odd, considering you were literally right outside the door, but it'd happened before and he was always happy to see you. He showed it very subtly, mind. But you always knew he was happy.

Warren finishes bussing a table, and when he turns toward the door, he finally sees you.

You were expecting a smile, a little one but still. Or a softening of features. You did not expect what actually happens.

Warren sees you, and you immediately know something is off. His face sort of dropped when he sees you there. That's a look you've seen before, sure. But never aimed at you.

"Hey Warren!" You smile extra cheery when he comes close enough to talk with you. You figure he needs some extra cheer.

He takes a heavy breath. "Hey."

Your smile falters a little at his reaction but you press on. "So I was thinking, after your shift we could see that new movie we've been talking about! There's a showing in an hour and a half."

"You've been talking about."

"Excuse me?" You tilt your head in confusion.

"You've been talking about that movie. I haven't said anything about it."

"O-oh. Well, I guess maybe I just assumed you wanted to see it too. It seemed like your thing. But we can go to a different movie, if you want!" You could've sworn he had said he'd wanted to see that movie, but maybe your memory is playing tricks on you.

Warren rubs his face. "I dunno. Maybe. I gotta get back to work."

You nod dumbly. He must've had a rough day at work.

You decide to not bother him the rest of his shift, just eating your egg rolls and finishing up your math homework as best she can. It was hard, considering Warren's mood. You don't like seeing him unhappy or overworked.

Checking your watch, you see it's finally time for him to clock out. You collect your things, pay for your food at the front desk, and wait for Warren at the kitchen doors.

Several minutes went by as you rock back and forth on your heels.

Something must be wrong, you think. You've just decided to peek your head in the doors, just to see if he's okay, when the doors open out and there Warren is.

He drops his bag and things fall out of it.

You quickly drop down to the floor and help him gather his scattered things, hearing him grumble to himself.

"Sorry!" You feel awful. He's already having a rough day and you made it worse!

"It's fine." Warren said, swatting your hands away.

You pick up a few more pens and put them in his bag. "No, I got it, don't worry."

"I said, it's fine." It's barely said any louder than he usually speaks, but the way he says it makes you pause.

You drop your hands. "Sorry." You can't help but say, again. You don't know what else to say that would help the situation.

He gets up and you get up at the same time. You notice his jacket on the floor at the same time as him and your body acts before you can tell yourself to quit while you're behind.

Your heads collide as you both reach for the item, and Warren hisses in pain. You're in pain too, but the next words out of his mouth steal your attention.

"Can I get some space? You're just, you're everywhere, all the time! Can I get a moment to myself, please?"

You're shocked into silence. Into stillness.

You're staring at him, stock still and eyes wide, when it clearly dawns on him what he's said. You see his eyes widening and his mouth opening to say something, but you don't stay to find out what it would be.

You stumble out of the restaurant, ignoring the shouts of your name. You pedal all the way to your house with numb feet. And when you go to bed, far earlier than usual, you may or may not cry yourself to sleep.

——

You spend the weekend in your room, not coming out unless hygienically necessary.

You just can't get Warren's words out of your head. You can't believe he said them. But now that he has, you find herself questioning everything. Yourself. Warren. Your friendship.

Has he always found you annoying?

Are you really always in his space?

By Saturday you cry yourself into self pity.

But by Sunday, you've found a bit of self respect.

Can you be a bit much? Maybe? Ypu can possibly acknowledge that. But you are not always in his space. You can think back rationally and recognize even on that very day, when you tried to give him space.

And even if you were in his space too much, he should've said something before. And he definitely should've said it in a nicer way.

By Monday morning, you've decided to respect his feelings about your relationship, which he made abundantly clear two nights prior.

——

Warren finds you at your locker on Monday.

It surprises you. Usually it's you that's waiting for him at his locker.

Like the hanger-on you are, you think bitterly. You turn your head so he doesn't see you pout at your own thoughts.

He stands there, awkwardly, as yoi don't greet him.

Good. Let him be awkward.

"I've been looking for you."

You nod in acknowledgement. You're nice like that.

"Where were you?" He asks.

"Why do you care?"

You're sulky in your answer, you can feel yourself sulk. And maybe you're being a little petty, but he hurt you! And if he doesn't want you around so much it shouldn't matter to him anyway, should it?

You hear him sigh, but you don't look to see his expression.

"Look, I'm sorry for the other day. I was just stressed and I took it out on you. Forgive me?

You shrug, as though indifferent. "It's fine," you say. "It was good actually, now I know how you feel and I can stop pestering you like I do."

"That's not–"

"No, no, I understand now. It's fine. And I'll keep what you said in mind for the future."

He goes to say something, but you interrupt him again "I really gotta get going, can't be late. See you later Warren. " And then you walk away.

It was rude. You know it. You should've let him speak, but you also didn't want to hear it. Let him think you're rude. He already thinks you suffocate him. Might as well add to the list. She try very hard not to pout as you make your way to first period.

——

During lunch, he corners you again. You're sitting outside under a tree. You haven't done that in a while but it's kind of nice.

Warren towers over her, his expression a little annoyed, but mostly confused.

"Hey. I just. Why aren't you at the table?"

You shrug. "Just felt like a change." You know neither of you believe what you've said, but you don't correct yourself. You very pointedly go back to eating your applesauce, staring down at it as though it required all your attention. You spare none for the boy standing before you. Or you pretend you don't.

"Right. Well...do you...do want some company?"

You don't look up. "I'm good."

You hear him sigh.

"You sure? You can have my pudding." Warren tries to entice you. There's a wheedling in his voice you haven't heard before, and it amuses you for a minute, until you remember his words from the other day.

You do want his pudding, but you will not be enticed.

"No, that's okay. I know how much you love your sweets." And then, even though you know you shouldn't say it, "You should have things you actually like in your life."

Warren splutters above you.

You pay him no mind as you collect your things and stand up.

"I actually have to stop by somewhere, anyway. See ya, Warren."

You pass him by and hear him choke on whatever it was he was about to say.

———

The next day, he finds you at your lockers again, this time there's a furrow between his brow.

"You didn't find me after school."

"No, I didn't." You grab your books and notebooks without looking at him.

Warren edges closer, practically hovers. "You always get a ride with me after school." He states it like you forgot.

"Yeah. I know. I force you to take me to the mall, which you hate."

"Hate is a strong word."

You slam your locker closed, unintentionally loud. "You hate the mall. But I usually pester you until you give in."

"You don't pes–"

"But I won't do that anymore, don't worry. Anyway, I want to use the bathroom before class starts." You give him a placid smile that doesn't reach your eyes and walk away from Warren.

You think you hear him curse under his breath but you can't be sure.

———

Mad science class ends and you pass Warren's seat on your way to the door. He starts getting up at the same time you do, seemingly waiting for you.

You almost collide with him. Just barely pivot so you just brush arms.

Warren sucks in a breath at the contact and your lips purse.

"Sorry, that was an accident. I didn't mean to invade your personal space. I know how that bothers you."

"Invade my space!" Warren practically shouts, or what counts as shouting for someone as quiet as warren. You're taken aback.

"Invade it. I don't want any personal space anymore. I don't want you to leave me alone. I want you to find me after school and bat your eyelashes until I take you wherever you want to go. I want to see you show up everywhere I go. I want you in all of my business. I swear I do, please can you just, can you forgive me? Forget what I said and just—"

"I can't forget what you said."

Your voice is quiet but it stops his tirade the same as if you'd shouted at him. He's just looking at you, with a helplessness you can't stand to see in his eyes. But you've never lied to him before, and you can't start now, even to ease his guilt.

"It replays in my head all the time. I can't pretend you didn't say what you said, because it's changed everything. I can't help rethinking all of our interactions. Our whole friendship. What we had, or what I thought might've..."

You swallow that last thought before it can reach the air. Sighing, you shake your head.

"I guess I should be glad to know how you really feel, but I don't feel very glad."

"But I don't–" Warren takes a step closer and you take a step back.

"Then why'd you say it?" You cut him off.

Warren opens his mouth and seems about to say something, but then shuts his mouth again.

"Right." You nod once, in acknowledgement of what his silence means. Then you're nodding fervently, like you can't stop. You feel tears threatening and know you have to get out of there.

You shoulder your way past Warren, even as he opens his mouth again. You're out the door, and Warren doesn't follow you.

——

You don't head to the Paper Lantern after school like you normally do. Not that night, and not the following week after.

Warren keeps trying to get your attention at school. He showed up at your locker the next day and you politely asked him to stop.

He looked like you'd slapped him.

"Are you serious?"

"Look, maybe you were right, before. Maybe we do need some space."

"I said I didn't need space." Warren runs a hand through his hair..

You can relate to his frustration. "Yes, and before that, you said you did. You see how I'm getting mixed signals here?" You don't mean for the sarcasm to leak into your voice, but this whole situation is grating on you.

Warren appears at a loss for words. Finally, "I understand."

"You understand?" You should feel happy he's giving you the space you're asking for, but instead you feel dread clawing at your throat. Like you're losing something. But you can't take it back. You weren't lying to Warren, you are confused at your and Warren's dynamic now. At why he wants to go back to normal if he had such a problem with it just a few days prior. You're just confused in general, and Warren is making your confusion worse with his behavior now.

Reluctantly, the boy in front of you nods his head.

You try to smile at him, but it's brittle. He doesn't smile back.

"Okay. I'll...leave you be then." Warren holds your gaze for a moment, before starting to walk away. Before he gets too far, he turns around and adds "For now."

You feel such relief at his last words that you're embarrassed for yourself.

You nod in acknowledgement, and he's gone.

——

Life without Warren is exactly how you knew it would be.

It's boring, even with a stink bomb being set off in the lab, and your classmates laughing and groaning in disgust around you. You try to laugh with them, but it feels false. The spectacle is juvenile at your age, and If Warren were next to you, instead of at the other side of the room, he would likely make some dry comment about it that would have you genuinely amused.

It's lonely, even though you have other friends to interact with. They're nice enough, the kids in class. They let you sit with them at lunch. Some of them are funny. But they're not Warren.

It's quiet, even if the school is loud. And even though Warren never adds much to the decibel level. Everything seems muted without him.

You wonder what life is like for Warren without you in it. In his space.

Can I get some space? You're just, you're everywhere, all the time! Can I get a moment to myself, please?

He might be enjoying all this time without you around.

You get to your locker to switch out books in between classes. You reach for the handle; stop short.

There's a sticky note on it with unmistakable chicken scratch, almost illegible, making a joke about the stink bomb from earlier.

Invade my space! Invade it. I don't want any personal space anymore. I don't want you to leave me alone.

Then again, maybe he does miss you a little.

——

It's been a few days since then and Warren's kept his word, technically, about leaving you be. In that he hasn't physically sought you out. You haven't spoken words to eachother verbally in almost a week. But you've lost count of how many sticky notes you now have.

Every time you return to your locker there's another one.

Witty remarks about a teacher. Doodles and caricatures drawn so poorly you know he's doing it on purpose just to make you laugh. You do.

One day you opened your locker and an origami butterfly fell out. Since then, you've gotten several more. You keep them carefully placed in a pocket of your backpack you emptied out just for them.

When you're missing Warren a little too keenly, you unzip that pocket and peek in to see your little swarm of origami butterflies, in different colored papers.

You don't know if they're supposed to be apologies, or I miss you's, or just little reminders that he's thinking of you. You pet the wings of one and allow yourself to think they might be all three.

——

It's a whole three weeks since that terrible night at the Paper Lantern, when your doorbell rings.

You hear it, but let someone else get the door, your curiosity not enough to make you leave your bed and the carefully placed nest of homework splayed all around you.

When you hear the voice at the door, however, you take off like a shot, English worksheets falling victim in your hurry.

Slightly out of breath, you bypass whoever got the door, and stand in your own doorway.

"Warren."

He breathes your name in return.

He looks down and it's then you see that he's carrying something. Several somethings. He's juggling in his arms a box of chocolates from that expensive place in town, a giant stuffed bunny, a bouquet of red and white roses, and a couple pieces of paper grasped in his fist.

You're well and truly gobsmacked. "Warren?"

He clears his throat and attempts to pass you the flowers.

He drops them.

Cursing under his breath, he bends to pick them up at the same time as you do, causing a collision of heads. More cursing.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, again. For your head. And for before and, I just..." Warren shakes his head, at a loss.

Gently, you take the box of chocolates and then the stuffed bunny (so soft) from his hands, leaving him with the bouquet and the paper in his hands. You squint to see what they are.

"Are those–?"

"Oh! Uh...yeah. I got us tickets to that movie we were talking about."

"You mean that I've been talking about?" You couldn't help it, it just slipped out. But the words still chaffed.

Warren flinched and you instantly felt bad. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

You nod. "'S okay. You didn't have to do that, though. Buy tickets for a movie you don't want to see."

"Look...that whole day I was a mess. Something happened and I dunno, I took it out on you. I know it's not an excuse, but I just want you to know why I was acting like that."

Concern tugs your features into a frown. "What happened?"

Warren gives a self-deprecating laugh. "It was stupid."

"Warren, it's not stupid if it made you that upset. What happened?"

Warren's face closes off a bit, and suddenly you know what it's about. Or rather, who it's about. Warren always gets that look on his face when he talks about his dad.

"What did he do?"

Warren's eyes flash in surprise. "Uh, nothing. Or, actually, he must've done something I guess. He just, he got himself thrown in solitary again, and he knew I was coming to visit."

Pulling Warren through the door, you lead him to the couch in the living room. His hands are pliant as you take the rest of the apology gifts from him and put them on the table next to you. And then you pull him into a hug.

He sinks into the embrace readily.

"I don't even know why I care so much. I should know better by now. I told you, stupid."

You tighten your arms around him and make your voice gentle. "It's not stupid to expect your dad to show up for you, in whatever way he's able at the moment."

He snorts. "Show up for me. Yeah."

"Warren, you know your dad loves you, right? Even if he's bad at showing it right now?"

Warren doesn't say anything in response to that.

You pet his hair the way he likes and he chuckles.

"What's so funny?"

Warren shakes his head softly. "I came here to apologize for being a jerk, and here you are, trying to make me feel better."

"Is it working?" You pull back just enough to see his face.

"Yeah. It's working." He rolls his eyes like the schoolboy he is. Then he pulls back further and looks at you seriously. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

You smile softly. "Yeah. I forgive you. Ya big dingus."

Warren's eyes close and he deflates like a weight was physically taken off his shoulders. "Good. Because I really missed you."

You do forgive him. You do. But, since he's on such a roll with the gifts and everything...

You fake a pout.

His eyebrows furrow at the sight, and he jumps to rectify it.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"It's just..." You heave a theatrical sigh. "I know you're busy, so I don't want to bother you. But I really want to learn mandarin. And I know I could learn some other way, but the couple words you've taught me? You're just such a good teacher..."

His brows furrow at your abrupt subject change. "Okay, yeah I am busy. But I can make time, okay? We'll figure something out. Maybe, on my breaks at work I can teach you some more."

You feel like cheering. Or maybe doing a little happy dance. And you should definitely stop here, but...

"That sounds amazing. Oh, but you have to buy something to sit there, I know your boss is getting frustrated when I come."

"I'll talk to her. And if that doesn't work, I'll pay for you to get potstickers or something."

You can't help but let out a delighted grin, but you reign it back hopefully before he sees.

"And you know–"

Warren's eyes narrow. "Wait a minute. You're just playing me now, aren't you?"

You try to feign shock. "What?! Why, I, I wasn't–"

Warren's already folding his arms and giving you an "I see right through you" look.

You sigh. "Okay, fine, I was maybe milking it a little."

Warren shrugs and turns to leave. "No, no, it's fine. There I was, baring my soul, and you chose to take advantage."

You start to feel panic rise. Have you undone all the progress you'd both made in getting your relationship back to normal? You really shouldn't have pushed it!

But then, you see the little upturn of Warren's mouth he was trying to hide. He's messing with you!

You feel relief flood through you. Touche, Mr. Peace.

Snaking your hands around Warren's bicep, you poke your head around to his line of vision and give him your most winning smile.

"Warren..." You sing his name.

He continued to try to get up, but you're dead weight on his arm. And from your vantage point, you could see his lips twitch.

"I'm sorry, Warren... could you ever forgive me?" You bats your eyelashes at him, your tongue sticking between your teeth as you grin at him. You know he can't resist this look.

Warren rolled his eyes, and finally stood up fully, despite her weight. You make a mental note to ask if superstrength is a secondary power of his and he just never told you.

"Fine." He says it mock-reluctantly.

You enjoyed the groveling, you acknowledge, to yourself if to no one else. Just a little bit. But you like it best when Warren is relaxed and happy.

Wrapping your arms around his arm more fully, you lean against him.

Resting your head on him, you sigh, happily. You're glad everything's sorted out. You've missed him, so, so much.

He shakes his head, in fondness you've come to realize, and it fills you with a rush of warmth.

"Kyut ka" he mutters under his breath.

Tilting her head, you ask "Is that my first lesson? What's that mean?"

Warren smirks. "I only agreed to teach you mandarin."

Your eyebrows raise. "Is that not mandarin? Warren Peace, how many languages do you know?!"

His reply is a mysterious shrug. The stinker.

You're not deterred, however. "What language was that? What did it mean?"

You continue your barrage of pestering questions all the way till you get to the movie theater, after being reminded of the tickets' existence.

Sitting side by side as the previews roll, you stare at Warren's profile.

You take a deep breath.

He takes one to match you, like physical proof you're both in sync again.

"Kyut ka!" You whisper-shout to him.

You only say it in retaliation for earlier. You still have no idea what it means, but you're sure it's nothing that bad. Maybe something along the lines of "You're annoying". If you're getting back to normal, you might as well tease eachother like usual.

What you did not expect was for his cheeks to darken before your very eyes in an unmistakable blush.

You grin widely in delight and triumph, as well as confusion. He's blushing! You wish you had your camera out.

Then it hits you. If what you said made him blush, and he had said it to you...

It's your turn to blush now. You think back on the words themselves again. If they mean what they sort of sound like in english, then...

You feel the warmth in her face at the very idea. Butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Warren told you you were cute.

You told Warren he was cute.

You don't know if you want to die from embarrassment or giddiness. You think giddiness.

Warren has continued to stare at the screen, looking like he was trying to ignore what you said entirely.

"You didn't see this movie yet, did you?" He says it casually. Or, he attempts to say it casually.

You beam while you inform him, "No, Warren. I didn't see the movie yet. I wanted to go with you."

"...I did want to watch it."

Your voice is soft when you say it now. "Kyut ka."

His ears are coloring now too! Oh this boy. You can't believe you were ever mad at him in the first place.

Well, actually, you can. But looking at him now, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact, you feel all the residual insecurity drain out of you.

You're going to be okay, the both of you.

Warren reaches over, without looking at you, and throws a piece of popcorn at your face. You laugh in surprise and throw popcorn back until you're shushed by the couple behind you.

Settling down, you rest your head on Warren's shoulder.

Maybe a little more than okay.

thanks sm for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider commenting/reblogging , it means a lot! ♡ and if you have any requests or ideas, please let me know in my ask box :)

#warren peace x reader #sky high #warren peace #warren peace x y/n #warren peace imagine #sky high imagine #warren peace fanfiction #sky high fanfiction

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justmeinadaze · 1 year ago

Text

Yin and Yang Part 2 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s), SMUT, voyeurism (technically; Eddie's not far lol), male masturbation, big dick Steve Harrington :P, dirty talk (LOTS of dirty talk), light spanking (once), light choking (once), established relationship mentioned and vaguely touched on between Steddie, aftercare always.

There's no real angst or fluff. Eddie does have a moment where he's worried about Y/N and does a temperature check but other than that nothing big. Just a lot of self indulgent smut. I have some ideas for more parts to expand on all three of them so more for sure because I am a thirsty lady.

Word Count: 4973

Part 1 here/ Donate to Me :)

It had been a little over three hours since you and your boyfriend had arrived at his best friend’s house and had yet to run into the host at all. To be fair, Steve Harrington’s house was much larger than even Eddie’s but the man told you he didn’t need a lot of space having grown up in a trailer.

The party he had invited you both to was in full swing with guests running wild knowing they could leave any mess since they didn’t live here. People everywhere were lip locked with a significant other as hands roamed in places that were meant to be private. Drunk hooligans were screaming and shouting, some happy and others angry.

A few guests like the man you loved were calmly talking shop as you remained at his side. You’d be lying however if you said you weren’t a little…bored.

“Eddie, Chemical Waste is a great band with a magnificent drummer but I don’t see how you’re going to get the general public to attach to them the way they did Corroded Coffin.”, a man in a suit practically whined making even you cringe.

“And that’s why I bring in more money than you, Jesse. I don’t take good sounds for granted especially where a rock band fits in any aspect of life.”

“Pfft please! It’s not like you can get in the mood to metal.”

“Hm. Well, you’re definitely not fucking any woman right then.”, Eddie replied cheekily as he glanced your way. “Are you alright?”, he asked, noticing your antsy demeanor.

“Yeah, baby. I’m going to go outside for a bit and get some air.”

“I’ll come with you—”

“No, Eddie. It’s alright. I won’t be long.”

“Y/N, I don’t think you should be wondering around here alone.” When you sigh and roll your eyes, his own irises shift into that particular dark look you had come to know very well. Taking a step closer to you, he lowered his voice so only you would be able to hear. “Do I need to scold you here in front of all these people, little girl? Is that the first impression you want to make?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, Daddy.”

His chocolate eyes flick to the balcony patio outside before sighing heavily himself.

“Go out that door but don’t go where I can’t see you.”

“Okay…”, you reply but when you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your wrist, pulling you to his chest and lightly kisses your lips making you smile. “I love you.”

“I love you to.”

***

Leaning against the railing, you took in the city around you. Being with a famous music producer allowed you to see parts of the world you never thought you’d get to experience even just in the town you were from. Coming from a small area with very little money, you were barely able to cross the street let alone a state line to see new things.

You never took for granted the sights and places Eddie took you to even if it was just the inside of hotel room for a lay over to the next place. The first time he flew you somewhere, you cried, fearing you were taking advantage him.

“Baby, it’s ok. I like taking you on trips like this and seeing you have fun.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like this is the only reason I’m with you.”

Eddie chuckles at your statement as if it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard and pulls you into his embrace.

“The fact that you’re worried about that tells me you’re different than the other people I’ve met. No one even cares enough to be concerned about that kind of thing.”

“Does Eddie know you’re out here all by your lonesome?” You jump at the sound of the man’s voice who immediately throws up his hands in surrender. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to startle you. To be honest, I thought you were just some woman who snuck in because I didn’t remember inviting someone as gorgeous as you.” He smirked cockily when you blushed, leaning his elbow against the railing.

“Then of course I remembered my best friend was bringing his girl over. Hi, I’m Steve Harrington.”

When he extended his hand to yours, you shook it relaying your name softly as he continued to hold your palm.

“So does he know? Eddie? That you’re out here alone?”

“Of course.”, you grin as your eyes gesture towards your boyfriend whose own eyes met his friends as he smiled.

“Oh, of course.”, he teased as he obnoxiously waved his way. “I’m not going to lie, a part of me was hoping there was a bit of a bad girl in that sexy dress so we could have a bit more fun. Nothing hotter than watching Eddie get tightly wound.”

When your head tilted to the side, he chuckled as he took a sip of the whiskey in his glass.

“I guess he didn’t tell you. That’s alright. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm you when it’s your first time meeting me. I understand that.”

“I wouldn’t get overwhelmed.”

“No? It wouldn’t intimidate you to know that Eddie and I have fucked before?”

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as a steady breath escaped your lips. The action itself didn’t intimidate you but the casual way he was speaking about it as if he was talking about the weather.

“N-No…it doesn’t intimidate me. You’re a lot more forward than he is.”

“Pfft, you’re not wrong.”, he laughs. “I spent most of life being pushed around by my father so I decided when I got my own company I’d never do that again. If I wanted something, I’d say it.”

“He’s teaching me how to do that. I’m not great at that especially when I’m…”

“When you’re what, honey? Tell me.”

“W-When I’m calling him Daddy.”

“You mean when you’re in that little girl headspace?” A bit to aggressively you nod your head making his smile widen as his palm reaches out to caress your cheek. “I can help you with that, pretty girl, if you want me to.”

“Wait.”, you reply suddenly grasping his wrist and his eyes promptly fill with genuine concern. “I just, um, everyone here thinks I’m with Eddie. I mean I am with Eddie but… if people see you touching me like this it could affect his business. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that or anything.”

Again, Steve’s head tilts.

“Huh. You’re more worried about him and how he’ll be perceived than yourself?”

“To an extent. People can think whatever they want independently. You can’t control that but if it interrupts my life or his or even yours…”

For a second, you thought you may have offended him with how his jaw jutted out and he clicked his tongue against his teeth until he started addressing people outside.

“Attention! Everyone listen up! Thank you for coming but I need everyone to leave!” Murmurs and awkward giggles flow through the crowd before he claps his hands and shouts even louder. “You people heard me! Get the fuck out of my house! That’s right, come on now. Oh, I know. You’ll have to get free booze somewhere else.”

Your eyes widen as you power walk to your boyfriend and hastily loop your arm through his.

“I think I did something wrong.”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“H-He’s kicking us all out.”

“Not everyone, baby girl. We’re still welcome to stay unless you want to go.”, Eddie asks as his hand cups your cheek. “Do you want to leave?”

Glancing towards Steve, who was coming back down the hallway, ushering people out from the bedrooms while they hurriedly put back on their clothes, you shook your head and leaned on the boy’s shoulder.

“No, Daddy, I don’t want to leave.”

He blinked as you used his title so freely without prompting and a sigh of relief left his chest; you were comfortable.

“Yes, alright, alright. Thank you for coming and destroying my space. My cleaning lady would like me to remind you that she hates you all. Ok, ba-bye.”, the businessman continued to sass before slamming the door shut and raising his arms in victory. “All gone! Now it’s just us.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you.”, you respond meekly, grabbing his attention.

Balancing his hands on his knees, Steve bends to your level as his soft eyes find yours.

“Look at me, honey? Do I look upset?”, he asked in a calm tone.

“You kicked everyone out…”

“Yeah, you mentioned being afraid of ruining our businesses and reputation if people saw me touching or talking to you a certain way. I don’t care about the people I kicked out but I do care if you and Eddie are comfortable.” When he reached out to caress your cheek, this time you allowed it as you tenderly kissed the pad of his thumb as it grazed your lips making him smile.

“Are you both hungry? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

###############

You giggled from your place on the sofa as you took a bite of the food Steve had ordered for you three while he continued to regale you with stories of his friendship with your boyfriend.

“I kid you not, honey, this party in LA was insane. It reminded me of dance scene in Moulin Rouge where she dangles from the roof. Girls where dancing fucking everywhere and this guy acted like he was stepping into his office or some shit. Just like zero emotion painted on his face.”

“Look, that’s your scene, Harrington, not mine. I’m more into like metal shows and concerts, things like that. I don’t know how to be at a regular party let alone that.”

“I think you did well tonight, baby.”, you beam as you tilt towards him to kiss his cheek.

Steve silently studies the exchange as his friend blushes and places his hand back on your calf to continue massaging your legs comfortingly. When you lean back against the couch your eyes linger on his smile before you turn towards the other man and notice that he was watching.

“What about you, honey? What’s your scene?”

“Um…I’m not really sure to be honest. It may sound cliché but right now it’s Eddie. I love everywhere he takes me and places he shows me. I feel like I’m taking advantage though.”

“Baby, you’re not taking advantage. You know I love taking care of you.”

“I know but…I can’t help that I have a heart.”, you smile.

“Hm. Is that why you agreed to this? Because he wants you to?” When your gaze shifts his way and you flash him a confused look, Steve can’t help but sarcastically chuckle. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N. The three of us know you’re not just here to meet me. There’s a whole other side to Mr. Munson here that no one knows about that I just find so fucking attractive.”

While he speaks Eddie’s eyes lock with his friends as his demeaner hardens while Steve cockily grins his way.

“Eddie would never force me to do anything I didn’t want to.”

“Huh uh. Your point being…?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Mr. Harrington. I just know how important you are to him and I don’t…want to disappoint…”

“I highly doubt that’s possible, pretty girl.”, the businessman grins your way. “He means a lot to me to. Eddie’s saved me from myself a few times and been there when no one else was. Which is why I’m asking the questions that I am.” Slithering to the carpet, he scoots his body till he’s in front of you and takes your legs off Eddie’s lap to place them in front of himself. “We want you to do this because you want to. Not because you think it will appease him…which it will but…”, he chuckles.

Your eyes scan over him as he waits for you to respond.

Steve had taken some effort to dress up for his party donning a suit that haphazardly hung to his frame. After everyone left, he had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, leaving a couple of buttons open on his chest to show off the undershirt that barely covered the chest hair peeking through.

His slacks were a bit baggy but the belt that clung to his waist accentuated his hips making you promptly want to wrap your arms around him. His hair, that had been styled when you first saw him, was now frayed due to him running his fingers through it as he spoke throughout the dinner and if he had bothered shaving this morning, you couldn’t tell with the light shades of hair that dusted his upper lip.

While Steve came off strong, he radiated a safety that told you everything was ok and that you could trust him.

“Can we go slow?”

“Of course. Of course, baby.”, Eddie comforts as he slides closer to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Just say Red like I taught you if you get uncomfortable, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you to, princess.”, he whispers as he kisses your lips.

“Are there any hard no’s for either of you?”, Steve asked as his fingers slid down your legs till he reached your heel and began unbuttoning the clasp.

“She’s pretty timid so she’s not really into the rougher stuff.”

“Can she not tell me?”, the man snickers as he moves to your other foot.

After rolling his eyes, Eddie gestured towards his friend urging you to answer.

“I’m open to trying anything… just…don’t hurt me…”

“You have to define ‘hurt’, honey.”

“Don’t like punch me or anything.”

Your answer gave Steve pause as his gaze shifted between you and your boyfriend.

“Y/N, that never crossed my mind. I would never hurt you like that. I know some people are into that but I know Eddie and he knows me. We don’t want to see you hurt or cry like that. No one’s ever hurt you like that right? Because I’ll fucking kick their ass.”

“No, Sir.”, you giggle at his slightly teasing yet protective tone. “No one’s ever hurt me like that. I just…like I said, I’m new to all this. Eddie teaches me things and he’s always so patient.” The man besides you beams with pride as he kisses your temple. “What about you? Is there anything I should know?”

Steve blinks as his little smirk flickers along his lips.

“Would you be surprised no one has ever asked me that?”

“Why? I mean I want you to enjoy yourself to and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he groans as his cheek falls against your bare thigh and his hands hug your leg. “You have to take me to this coffee shop you found her at, Ed, because she is perfect.”

On impulse, your fingers reach out to pet his head and he moans lightly at the action as he tilts a bit to kiss your skin.

“No, honey. Just be honest and vocal with me. Sometimes I get…passionate…so if I’m doing something you like or don’t like just tell me.”

“Yes, Sir. What about you, Daddy?”

“I’m just watching tonight, sweetheart.”

“Yeah but is there…is there something you don’t want me to with him? Like…can I kiss him?”

“Yeah, baby girl, you can kiss him. You can do anything you want as long as you feel safe and I will be right here if you need me.”

“Ok, Daddy.”

“Why don’t you take off your dress, babe, and show Steve what he gets to play with?”

Nodding, you rose to your feet and wiggled your frame as you slid the tight-fitting fabric down your body bringing your panties down with it.

“No bra?”, Steve asked as you sat back down and he took a seat beside you.

“I didn’t think it went with the dress.”

“We were at the mall for hours looking for the ‘perfect’ dress. She wanted to look nice for you.”, Eddie jested making you blush.

“Aw, honey. Well, it was absolutely gorgeous.”, his friend cooed as he placed his arm over his own behind your head and rested his other palm on your stomach. “I think I like this outfit the best.”, he whispers causing a shutter to ripple through you.

Leaning your lips toward Steve’s, your pussy clenched as they mingled together while you mewled at his taste. They both had a lingering note of nicotine but this man was oddly softer with his technique than Eddie; so much so that you constantly chased his mouth for more friction.

As you turned to kiss your boyfriend, his lips were desperately waiting as he cupped your head in his head and held you still. Steve’s tongue grazed your throat as he placed open mouth kisses along your skin causing you to pant as you struggled to stay connect to the man you loved.

“How does it feel? Tell Daddy, baby.”

“G-Good. Want more.”

“Tell him. Tell Mr. Harrington what you want, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as Steve’s mouth and tongue found purchase on your tit as he sucked and licked your nipple.

“Please—mmm—Mr. Harrington. I want to feel you t-touch me.”

Without saying a word, he tore off his shirt and pushed down his pants to his ankles.

“Fuck, come here, honey.” Laying on your side, you place your head towards his stomach and Steve groans when a glob of spit falls from your mouth on to his tip. “There you go, Y/N. Shit.”

As your hand begins to pump him, you listen as he sucks on his fingers before rubbing them against your clit.

“Oh…Oh my god, Steve.”

No sooner had his name left your mouth was your hair being yanked back as his angry eyes found yours.

“When we are together, little girl, you will show me respect. Do I make myself clear?”

“Ah…yes, Sir.”

“Who am I right now?”

“Mr. Harrington.”

His cock twitched in your hand as he gripped you tighter.

He was enjoying the control.

“Louder, Y/N.”

“Mr. Harrington! You’re Mr. Harrington, Sir!”

As soon as he let you go, you desperately wanted to make up for your indiscretion, immediately wrapping your lips around his length and bobbing your head.

“Atta girl. Fuck-- don’t overwhelm yourself. I-I know I’m a lot.”

The sound of a belt unbuckling echoed through the living room and you know Eddie was making himself more comfortable especially when Steve’s fingers breached your entrance as he curled them inside you.

“Jesus, look how fucking hard you are. You like watching your girlfriend take my cock down her throat?” Utilizing one of your hands, you massaged the businessman’s balls eliciting a loud grunt that had you clenching around his fingers. “You were right, Ed. She’s—mmph—she’s good at sucking dick. Damn, and she’s so fucking tight. You’re right, baby. I’m going to stretch you in half.”

Your moan mixes with Eddie’s at the notion.

“Fuck me. I can’t—” Abruptly Steve removed his fingers and manhandled you till your head was on your boyfriend’s lap on your back. After removing the rest of his clothes, he opened your legs wide and spit directly into your cunt before falling on top of you. “I’m gonna try and go slow at first but I just really want to fucking pound into you so like I said…If I’m hurting you—”

“I’ll tell you. Please, Mr. Harrington, I need you.”, you whine as you grind your hips along his hard cock.

His arms boxed you in as his head fell beside your own and he began guiding himself into you. Your hands promptly grabbed his shoulders as you bit your bottom lip.

“There y-you go, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”, Eddie cooed softly above you as you felt the slight wind of his hand stroking his length.

The whole scene was driving you wild and you couldn’t help but squeeze tighter around the man inside you making him grunt as you whined in slight pain.

“A-Are you o-o-okay, Sir?”

Steve’s fingers threaded in your hair as he lifts his head to look down at your face. As he thrusts in another inch, a heavy breath leaves your lips hitting his own as his features scrunch in what looks like pain.

“Talk to me.”, you whimper. “I need you to be v-vocal to.”

Leaning his forehead against yours, his tenderly gives you a kiss.

“I’m not even…even all the way in…I feel like…mmm…I’m gonna cum. Am I h-h-hurting you?”

“A little but…feels…good…” This time you kiss him as your nails drag down his back till your palms grip his ass. “It’s ok, Steve.”, you whisper. “Keep going. I want to feel all of you. I don’t care if I can’t walk tomorrow as long as I can feel you.”

Subtly guiding him with your hands, he delivered you small thrusts as his beautiful eyes remained locked on yours.

“Uhhh, fuck. Feels so good, Mr. Harrington.” When he was fully seated inside of you, you both froze as you relished the feeling of each other. “Please, Sir. I need you to move.”

A large palm circled around your throat and lightly squeezed as Steve pushed up on his elbow to glare down at you.

“You need me to move, little girl? Then don’t fucking pout. You take what I fucking give you.”

Eddie’s movements still as he watched the scene before him. The few times the two of them had played this was how Steve was. Where Eddie was a bit softer, Steve was much more rugid and rough around the edges. Daddy wanted to teach whereas Mr. Harrington wanted someone to obey. When they were intimate, they bounced off each other quiet well. When Steve needed someone to just love him and care for him Daddy was there. When Eddie was tired of being in control all day, Mr. Harrington took over.

They never dug too deep into it or what that aspect of their relationship meant. They just knew they were best friends and that’s all that mattered.

With him, you were always very shy about a lot of sexual things. You were no prude but like you said, you had only experienced the vanilla lifestyle. Eddie loved your innocence and it catered to his Daddy nature. But neither of you had ever gotten this far.

He’d never tried being rough with you in this way nor had he ever had to “punish” you. Unlike the women he dated previously, you were far from a brat. Occasionally yes he did scold you but all in all nothing more. When he asked you about being intimate with Steve, he knew the man leaned more towards that spectrum which is why he insisted on you utilizing the safe word should you need it.

Eddie had also warned him that you were timid and to just go along with your flow.

To him on the outside looking in, however, it seemed like Steve jumped to a 10 without warning.

“Sweetheart, what color are we at?”

Instead of answering you tried push against his friend’s grasp to kiss his lips again but he just pushed you down as he smirked at your insistence. Eddie couldn’t believe what he was seeing and his cock twitched slightly at the sight.

You were disobeying.

“Answer me, Y/N.”

“Green, Daddy.”

“She’s fine, Munson. Look at her. Desperate little thing just wants to cum.” Suddenly wrapping his arms around you, Steve sits up without pulling out so you’re straddling him. “Well, go ahead, honey. Take what you want.”

Balancing your hands against his shoulders, you bounced your hips slowly at first as you fully got used to his size. The burn had long since passed and pleasure was fully in the driver’s seat as his cock hit and surpassed all your buttons till you were a desperate mess.

“Fuck, Eddie, do you hear that? She’s so f-fucking wet. Come on, baby. Harder!”, he scolded as he spanked your behind. A string of ahs escaped you as you did what he commanded, your eyes rolling as your head fell back. “Atta girl. Taking my dick so well. No one-mmph—no one’s ever taken all of me before. Not even him.”

Glancing towards your boyfriend, you moaned as his hand stroked his cock at a blistering pace as he grunted at the feeling, his eyes focused on your tits and body as they moved.

“M-Mr. Harrington feels so good, Daddy. Can I have his cum? Please! I wanna feel him cum inside me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Y-Yeah, baby girl. If you squeeze his cock real tight when you cum I’m sure he could return the favor.”

Your lips crashed to Steve’s as your tongues danced together and his arms held you in place.

“Just like that, Sir. Please…I’m gonna…”

The pants that left his mouth warmed your cheek as he clung to you, planting his feet into the carpet as he thrust up into you roughly. The sound of skin slapping skin hit your ears and after a few more pumps your body trembled as you came.

“FUCK! God fucking damn it!”, Steve shouted as his hands held you tighter to him. “You pussy is choking my dick. Fuck I’m gonna cum.”

Hastily, he tossed you to the side on your stomach and lifted your ass in the air as he shifted around behind you. Sliding his cock back inside of you, Steve set an animalistic pace as he chased his high. Leaning over your back, his palm pinned you into the sofa cushion squishing your face as he rolled his waist till you felt his release coat your insides.

Eddie grunted above you till you listened to his voice shake as his seed shot out and hit his thigh.

“Oh oh oh. I know, Y/N. I’m sorry.”, Steve soothes in a soft tone when you cry out as he tries to carefully pull out of you. After throwing himself down behind you, he tugs on your hips bringing you on to his lap. Just as you had with his friend, you wrapped your arm around his neck and rested your head against his chest as your eyes closed.

“What should I do?”, he whispers to Eddie who breathily chuckles.

“Play with her hair and rub her back or something. Tell her she’s safe.”

“Should we at least get her clean?”

“Yeah sure. Go ahead and try that.” As Steve tries to readjust you so he can stand and bring you to his bathroom, your arm holds him closer as you nuzzle your nose into his neck. “I told you, man. I’m not sure if it’s the headspace or just her but either way I love it. Makes me feel wanted…needed…”

“Hey.”, the businessman calls out as his arm reaches out to lightly hit his friend’s shoulder. “I need you, Ed. You’ve been a really good friend to me. As you can tell a lot of people like the idea of me and what that brings.”, Steve sighs as he gestures around the house. “You’ve never been like that. How, um, how was this? Did you like it?”

“I did. There was a moment there though… she doesn’t talk like that with me or misbehave at all really. It was fascinating to watch.” The other man nods at his assessment, shifting his gaze towards you as his hand plays with your hair. “What about you? Did you like being with her?”

Steve chuckles as he continues to stare forward.

“Yeah, I did. I’m a little worried because I wasn’t joking when I said no one has ever taken all of me before. She may be really sore in the morning but yeah. I also liked you watching; turned me on a bit more. You should join in next time. I mean if she wants there to be a next time. There doesn’t have to be. I like her personality to. She’s adorable and she seems to genuinely care about you.”

Sensing something in his friend’s tone, Eddie pulled up his pants as he shuffled closer to his side and without hesitating, Steve leaned onto his shoulder.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah…just been a rough few weeks. It’s oddly calming having her hold me like this. Never had a woman in my bed long enough to cuddle with after. Either they get sick of me or I get sick of them.”

“Sounds about right.”

Steve’s head tilts back to watch his friend laugh with glassy eyes before pressing his lips to the other man’s throat and peppering him with tiny, soft kisses.

“Didn’t you just cum, needy boy?”, Eddie lightly teases.

“Mhmm but I could go again if you’re playing to.”

“Oh my God, Steve, you slut.” The sound of their breath filled laughter woke you from your sleepy state. “Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?”

“I’m ok, Daddy. Cold but ok.”

“How about we get you into a bath and then you and Eddie can crash in one of my guest rooms?”

“Oh. Alright.”, you reply sullenly causing Steve to grip your chin so his eyes could find your own. “I just thought you’d lay with us but I understand if you don’t want to.”

“Hey, I’d love to lay with you both. I just didn’t want to overcrowd you if you wanted some space after everything.”

After placing your lips on his, you grab Eddie’s collar to do the same.

“I don’t want space. I want to feel you both hold me.”

Both men exchange a glance before getting to their feet and carrying you down the hall.

“We can do that, baby girl.”

#############

@aol19 @livsters @dashingdeb16 @too-efn-old-to-be-here

@yesimabratandwhataboutot @eddiesguitarskills

@scarlet-witch23 @soph342 @micheledawn1975 @thatgurljen @fluffansmut

@chelebelletx @peaches-roses-sins @areiofhope @hugdealer @nerdygamingartist@bootywizzard @bexreadstoomuch @calumfmu @nailbatanddungeon

If I missed anyone in the tags please let me know!

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cinnamoonblue · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter II | Compass

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid, Koala (more to be add)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP this story will contain descriptions of violence, 18+ only, contains explicit sexual themes and content, explicit language, use of alcohol, use of cannabis, use of nicotine/cigarettes, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, implied injury, family trauma, slow burn, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, NSFW, conflicted feelings, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, jealousy, suggestive themes, violence, substance use, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, mentions of depression, mentions of loosing a loved one, mentions of violence, PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS

Word Count: 10.1K

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NOTE: I really hope you guys like this chapter as I was surprised by myself and the fact that I was able to write 16 pages of material for it. I promise you soon there will be a lot of Ace x Reader moments, as of right now I want to establish a steady tempo of how things will go between them for the future, and also introduce you a little bit of the Reader’s already established relationships with certain characters. I recommend you listening to the song “Compass” by The Neighbourhood (the real ones hehe) when you get to the moment where they will sing it. Please feel free to leave a feed back as it’s important to me. I re-read it like six times now, and I hope that I have fixed all the spelling and grammatical mistakes, but again English is not my first language so I’m sorry if some things are unclear, let me know so I can fix it. Also if you haven’t seen “Fantastic Mr. Fox” I recommend the movie as bot only you will understand the references better, but because it’s an amazing movie. Enjoy ♡

PS: this is what the gesture from the movie looks like for those of you who haven’t seen it, as I’m afraid that I might not describe it good enough.

I’ve reached the street where “The Red Pirates” was located. I was taken aback for a moment when I saw how big of a queue was in front of the entrance. The bar was not very big, but it was quite spacious, and the vibe overall was a mix of underground place with a hint of an old rock and roll bar. One thing Shanks knew how to do best was making the most out of things. His cheerful and charismatic persona knew how to lure people around him, so it was no surprise to anyone when he made this place quite popular in this aera of the Grand Line city. At the end of every month, he invites well-known local bands to perform and usually it gets sold out, but I have never seen such a queue in front of it like the one tonight.

As I got closer, I noticed most of the people in the queue were around my age. The place was more known among people around their middle age, but I guessed from what Nami and Usopp told me I shouldn’t be surprised that there were so many young people here tonight. By the entrance were standing Beckman and Lucky Roux – a big smile appeared on my face when I saw them.

“Beckman, Lucky!” I shouted as I ran and hug them.

“Here is the real star of the night” Lucky lifted me off the ground as he squeezed me in a tight hug.

“Shanks is putting you to work tonight, huh?” Beckman patted me on the shoulder as he laughed at the face I made when he mentioned it.

“Please don’t mention it!” I whined. “On top of it my friends are going to be here, as apparently one of their friends is a brother of two of the guys in the band, so they all be having fun while I just watch behind the bar.”

“Oh, cheer up, beautiful.” Lucky chuckled at me. “At least we are here – if someone gives you trouble at the bar just let us know.” He cracked his knuckles with a grin on his face.

“(Y/N)” I heard someone shouting out my name behind me. Beckman, Lucky and I turned our heads to see who it was.

“Nami, Usopp” I called them as I gestured them to come. “I thought you are already in.”

“Well, someone here took too much time to get ready.” Usopp nodded his head at Nami, and she rolled her eyes at him. She was dressed stylish as per usual – with a dotted colourful bodysuit imitating bathing suit, a long denim skirt with some sparkling belts on top. Her long ginger hair let down nicely. Usopp was wearing a knitted light grey coloured sleeveless top – showing off his biceps, with some dark greyish baggy jeans. Two silver necklaces – one thicker than the other on his neck, his head was cover in one of his many durags that he owned – his look slaying as well.

“Anyway.” She looked at me. “Can you get us in, as we don’t want to wait on the queue, plus Luffy and the rest are waiting for us.” She grabbed my hand, squeezing it in hers.

“Yeah, of course.” I turned back to Beckman and Lucky. “Please, please, please these are my friends I told you about, please, please, let them skip the queue.” I childishly begged them, as Beckman shook his head at me with a smile and Lucky chuckled.

“We don’t need this whole performance to just let them in, you know?” Beckman said as he removed the rope that was stopping people to go in, letting Nami, Usopp. Some people in the queue complained how this wasn’t fare, but no one really paid attention to them.

“I know, but I have to be dramatic.” I stuck my tongue at them, we were about to go in when both Beckman and Lucky stopped Usopp and held him on the spot. Nami and I looked at each other confused of why they would stop him.

“You fella look oddly familiar.” Lucky said, as he eyed Usopp from the head to toes. “Any chance being related to Yassop?”

“Y-yes...” Usopp stuttered as he heard his dad’s name being mentioned. Even as absent father he has always found a way to cause his son problems.

“How so?” Beckman asked, intimidating Usopp even more.

“H-he is my f-father.” Usopp was ready to take whatever punches Beckman and Lucky were going to throw at him, as it won’t be the first time this would happen.

“Ha, I’ve heard his son is like a copy of him, but damn Yassop was working overtime when he was making you.” Lucky snorted out loudly as they let go of Usopp and patted him on the back. “Say ‘hello’ to your dad from us.”

“S-sure I will.” Usopp muttered as he glanced at them when they let him pass, the look of irritation visible on his face.

“Are you, okay Usopp?” I knew his relationship with his dad was very complicated and he hated to be reminded how much he looked like him. I knew that Beckman and Lucky didn’t mean to offend him, but they hit a nerve. I glanced back at them as they were back to stopping and letting people in.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Maybe I will be better if I don’t look so much like my dad.” He shook his head trying to forget what just happened. “Let’s go find Luffy, plus I really need a drink right now.” He said as he started to walk ahead of us. Nami and I just looked at each other without saying anything, knowing that he would need a minute to cool down.

“You haven’t forgotten about the free drinks, right?” Nami nudged me.

“Even if I did, I was sure you were going to remind me.” I nudged her back. “Anyway, I need to go and change – see you in a bit. Just find me somewhere by the bar and only order to me so you don’t have to pay.” We hugged each other and then I headed to the back of the bar where the staff entrance was. I was struggling to reach it, as there were so many people inside. I couldn’t remember to have seen this place so full before and knowing how many more people were waiting outside was stressing me out already. I reached the staff door, and as I was about to open it, when someone literally kicked it in my face and if I didn’t react fast, I was probably going to end up with a broken nose. I looked at the person in disbelief.

“You can say sorry at least, asshole.” I got even more pissed when I saw who it was.

“Watch where you stand spoiled brat.” He replied with the same annoyance.

Perfect, not only it was going to be a long and a busy night, but on top of it I must work with the biggest jerk I have ever met - Eustass Kid. Till this day I couldn’t get why Shanks kept him around, when they didn’t even get along; yet every time I’ve asked Shanks why, his reply was the same ‘He is the best bartender I have.’

I was going down the stairs towards where the ‘changing’ room was – if I could even call it that. It was the space downstairs where they store everything – from the drinks to the staff lockers. I started to take off my hoodie as I was still pissed from my encounter with Kid. I didn’t even pay attention that there were three guys sitting on the sofas, where the lockers were, until one of them didn’t clear his throat. I slowly turned around, the shocked look on my face from the embarrassment clearly visible on my face. They were trying their best not to look at me while I was standing in front of them with my bra on.

“I guess no one told you that we will be down here.” The blond guy that cleared his throat said awkwardly as he was trying to avoid looking at me. The other two – a black short-haired guy who was wearing a simple black tank top and a silver neckless, with tattoos covering his entire body and dark jeans; and the other one on his left side – with the light blue coloured hair, who was wearing glasses with a thick black frames dressed, in a dark blue t-shirt with some dark blue oversized jeans, were both looking away.

“Yeah, this little detail was clearly missed.” I covered my front with my hoodie. “D-do you mind turning around so I can quickly put m-my work shirt on?” I was trying not to die from embarrassment, avoiding looking at them.

“Of course, don’t worry we won’t be looking.” The blonde quickly said, as they all just turned their heads to the side not looking my way. I quickly changed and excused myself as I ran upstairs embarrassed of what has just happened.

They all looked at each other and laughed.

“Poor girl I actually feel bad for her.” Deuce said.

“Yeah, I bet she wasn’t expecting to see anyone here.” Law agreed with him. They all laughed again as Ace came back from upstairs, caring with himself some bottles of cold water.

“Did I miss something?” He looked at the guys confused.

“Yeah, they got us a stripper, but she ran off after she saw Law’s ugly face.” Sabo burst out laughing as Law pushed him from the edge of the sofa.

“The only ugly face here is yours, you morron.” Law and Sabo started to wrestle and mess around, and Ace looked even more confused, as he threw a bottle of water to Deuce to caught.

“Are they for real? They really got us a stripper?” Ace sat next to Deuce as he opened his bottle to drink some water, watching his brother messing with Law. Deuce only shook his head and chuckled.

“One of the girls working here came, and she didn’t notice us as she was clearly pissed about something, she started to change in front of us without realising and when she realised it became quite award for everyone.” Deuce quickly explained to him.

“Was she hot?” Ace playfully raised his eyebrow.

“Your type for sure.” Sabo said as he sat back on the sofa looking at his brother with a smirk. “If you haven’t smashed recently ...” Sabo didn’t get to finish his sentence as Law slapped him with behind the neck. “Ouch what was this for?” he winced looking at Law.

“Have some manners man.” Law scolded him.

“Come on, it was just a joke.” Sabo tried to defend himself. Ace and Deuce were just observing them not saying anything, as this was Law and Sabo’s usual dynamic.

“Don’t worry bro, if I want to smash, I don’t need a wingman” Ace chuckled at Sabo.

“You sure? You are quite grumpy lately; I can always ask Koala to hock you up with one of her girlfriends.” Sabo continued to tease Ace, as Ace just rolled his eyes at him.

“Again, I don’t need you or your girlfriend as a wingman.”

“Law what about you? You are even grumpier than Ace.” Sabo turned to Law with a teasing grin, as Law glared at him without saying anything.

“What’s with you and playing a wingman tonight?” Deuce asked Sabo, as Sabo was clearly in the mood to annoy his bandmates.

“I just care about your well beings’ guys. You know if I can help for your happiness I would gladly do it.” He tried to play innocent, but the guys knew him too way, he just wanted to mess with them.

“Where is Koala, by the way? Is she not coming tonight?” Ace asked his brother, his girlfriend Koala never missed their performances and usually hung up with them before they start playing.

“Ohh she is coming a little bit later tonight as one of her girlfriends has a birthday today, and they are out celebrating.” Sabo and Koala have been together for five years now. They had met in high school, and from the start Koala had massive crush on Sabo, which later grew to having stronger feelings for him. Koala tried to keep all these feelings bottled up, until the night when Ace had thrown a ‘goodbye’ party for his brother, who was going away to college. She drank so much alcohol that night to gain courage to confess to him, only to end up in the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet while Sabo was there by her side running gentle circles on her back, as all the alcohol was coming back. While he was in there with her, making sure that she will be alright, she looked at him in the eyes and ‘I love you’ slipped from her lips before her mind could even procced it. Sabo didn’t have much time to react as she threw up again. The next morning Koala just woke up in Sabo’s room, not really remembering anything, but from that night on their relationship started as Sabo decided to not go to college in another city but stay in Grand Line so he can be close to Koala. And till this day Sabo haven’t regrated the decision he took – not only he was with the girl that he has been in love with since they met, but he also got the chance to do music, something he has always loved, with his brother and friends by his side.

“Oh, that is why you are playing a wingman.” Deuce chuckled at Sabo. “I’m also single, why don’t you play my wingman?” Deuce clenched his fist up to his heart pretending to be hurt by Sabo’s decision to ask only Ace and Law. Ace snorted at Deuce and his little “act”.

“Sorry man, but you don’t match the birthday girl’s type.” Sabo put his arms in the air as he was helpless to help his friend.

“What’s her type then?” Ace mocked his brother and his pathetic attempts to play Cupidon.

“Guys, don’t mock the messenger.” Sabo tried to defend himself. “Koala told me loud and clearly – ask Ace, if Ace plays hard, ask Law.” He mimicked his girlfriend voice and gestures. “I guess her friend type is grumpy dark-haired dudes.” He mocked his brother and Law.

“Well Ace, you were the first choice not me - so good luck with the ‘birthday’ girl.” Law winked at Ace, his eyes full of mockery.

“Shut up man, last thing I want to do is going on a double date with Sabo.” Hearing this Sabo threw his empty bottle as Ace’s head, but he dodged before it hit him.

“Again, I’m up for it – if you show me at least how she looks like.” Deuce made Sabo pull out his phone to show him the girl.

“Deuce you can’t be that desperate.” Turning his head in disbelieve Law exclaimed at him.

“I’m not, but also it’s been a while, so I don’t mind being the third option of the night.” Sabo handed his phone to Deuce as he had opened the girl’s Instagram. Both Ace and Law looked over Deuce’s shoulders, taking look at the girl.

“Not bad, but I’ve had seen better.” Ace commented, not really impressed by the looks of the girl.

“Nah man she is cute.” Deuce protested and Law agreed with him.

“But same as Ace I don’t want to be stuck on a double date with you.” Law nagged at Sabo. Ace shook his head, as these two started to mess with each other again. He sat back on the sofa and pulled his phone out from the back pocket of his pants. Scrolling through social media, he checked the band’s Instagram profile, something he hasn’t done in a while, as he wasn’t a big social media user, noticing that they got some new followers, but one piqued his interest.

“@idkthisfoxy “ He murmured to himself. The profile was private and there was no bio, but he clicked on the profile picture making it bigger. On the picture was this girl with a sock covering her face and only her eyes were visible, the same way the animated fox Ash from Fantastic Mr. Fox was portraited at the end of the movie. He snorted out with a smirk. “Could you be...?” He thought to himself.

“What’s with this smug smirk on your face?” Sabo interrupted his thoughts, looking at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing” Ace brushed him off, getting up from the sofa, and putting his phone back in his back pocket. “Okay guys, I think it’s time to go upstairs and get ready to play.” He clapped his hands, making the guys stand up, agreeing with him.

“Let’s go break some hearts gentlemen.” Sabo loudly exclaimed, clapping his hands in the air, as the guys were going upstairs.

I left the ‘changing’ room that was used for everything – from changing your clothes to storage all the alcohol and beverages Shanks has to offer, with a quick run up the stairs. Last thing I expected was someone to be there, let alone three men standing on the sofa there, which was something new Shanks have had add as last time I worked here, there was no sofa downstair. And speaking of the devil he was right in front of me.

“Shanks!” I shouted out, catching his attention as he was busy flirting with some woman. He turned at me with a big smile.

“There is my beloved niece.” He pulled me in a suffocating hug. I tried to fight him, but he only tightened his embrace. “Why is my Foxy mad? Did someone step on your tail?” He started to poke me on my sides only fuelling my annoyance with him.

“I’m telling you – run while you can. This man is insufferable.” I told the woman who he was hitting on, as she was looking at us while we were messing with each other.

“Oh Foxy, I can’t wait for the day you gonna bring a man over, the number of comebacks I have collected for you is unlimited at this point.” He ruffled my hair, as he turned to his fling for the night, telling her to give him a second, as he nodded at me to follow him.

“Are they unlimited, or you just can’t count after ten?” I tease him with mockery in my voice as he only shot me a glance.

“Someone doesn’t want to get paid double tonight, I see.” He nagged me with a smug smile.

“Dare.” I challenged him, and he laugh at me.

“Okay now seriously.” He stopped in front of the computer making me clock in. “You and Kid will be working together at the bar. No need to check ID’s as tonight everyone must be 20+ to enter, so if they are inside that means they are legal to drink. If it gets to much I might jump in and help, but I have three runners tonight so it should be all good. And most importantly if someone is bothering you let me know immediately, okay?” I mentally prepared for the long shift, off all the people I could of work with tonight, I would have to work with Kid. Shanks patted me on the shoulder and went back to his fling of the night. I huffed and turned around to look at the bar. The queue was already quite big, and Kid needed help at this point.

I got behind the bar, and Kid glared at me with annoyance. He was wearing one of the work t-shirts with the “Red Pirates” logo on it, his muscular body defined by it. His whole left hand was covered in a tattoo sleave – a realistic robotic hand, something coming out straight from the Cyberpunk universe. The tattoo itself was amazing, the person having the tattoo – was not so much.

“Move Kid, I will work on the bar station closer to the stage.” He rolled his eyes at me but still moved so I can go to the right side of the bar. “You can come and order here as well.” I shouted and people started to come my way. Nami soon came to me with a big grin.

“Hey there, I heard there is this cute bartender working here, so I made sure to come and check if the rumours are true.” She teased me.

“Stop it, I might get all flushed.” I waved mt hands in front of my face as we both laughed. “What do you want to drink?”

“A strong vodka and orange juice – less juice more vodka.” I started to make her drink, as I filled the glass with a lot of ice, as I knew that she loved her drinks very cold.

“Where are the rest of the group?” I asked her as I didn’t expect to see her alone.

“They are standing by one of the round bar tables close to the stage.”

“Less vodka – more juice, as requested.” I joked with her, handing her the drink.

“Ha-ha.” She mocked me as she took a sip of her drink. “Oh yeah that is strong.” Her eyes widen as she tased the drink. “Damn you really made sure there is no alcohol in it.” She sarcastically said, taking another sip. “By the way my friend Luffy knows your uncle Shanks.” Nami took a sit on the last tall chair left at the bar.

“What are you for real? How?” I was taking other customers orders as we were talking.

“I don’t know, you have to ask him.” She shrugged, taking another sip. “Oh God, please put some more juice in this thing, it is too much even for me.” I burst out laughing as she handed me back her glass to pour more juice in it.

“Nami, who is this beautiful lady, and why I haven’t been introduced to her?” A tall blonde guy wrapped his arms arounds Nami’s shoulders. She rolled her eyes and huffed.

“(Y/N) – Sanji, Sanji – (Y/N). Don’t mind his flirting – everything that has two legs and boobs is beautiful in his eyes.” She pushed his hands off from her.

“Nami that hurt, I only flirt with beautiful women, no matter the size of their breast.” He advocated for himself. “Nice to meet you (Y/N), I have been hearing a lot about you from Nami and Usopp.” He flashed me with a seductive smile. “Only good things of course.”

“Nice to hear this.” I smiled at him. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I would love to but sadly, I’m the one driving everyone home tonight, so I will have to deny your offer.” He chuckled sadly. I took a quick look at him and his outfit suited his smooth persona; he was wearing off-white shirt, two buttons unbuttoned around his chest, with a dark grey chinos style pants and belt. His wavy blonde hair was let down nicely as half of it was covering his right side of the face. I was told by Nami, that Sanji was handsome and super stylish, and now I understand what she meant by it.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Sanji.” I did feel bad for him, knowing how Nami and Usopp behaved when they are drunk, I couldn’t imagine what dealing with their whole friend group would feel like.

“I’m sorry that you must be behind the bar.” He was smooth, but this was not working on me.

“Hey, enough with the chitchats, those asses playing tonight are starting soon, so focus!” Kid came next to me and hissed in my ear angrily as I was talking to Nami and Sanji.

“You are right, sorry.” I apologised to him, knowing that I really got distracted by Nami and Sanji. “Sorry guys but I have to focus on work now, but if I manage, I will sneak to your table.” They both understood and wish me good luck, as they went back to their table.

“Of course, on the busiest night I have to put up with you.” Kid continued to whine. I just rolled my eyes at his whining. His bright spiky red hair matching his personality perfectly. “Hand me two more bottles of rom.” He spat at me.

“Kid are you ever in a good mood?” I asked him, handing the bottles.

“Yeah, when I get my dick sucked.” He smirked at me.

“Oh, you are disgusting.” I was left in shock from his answer.

“You asked, you got you answer.” He had pleasant look on his face knowing well that his comment irritated me. “Don’t worry, brat. You will never get this lucky.” His cocky smirk not leaving his face.

Before I moved to Grand Line, the last two summer since I was working for Shanks, while staying with him in his apartment, as my dad usually toured during the summertime. The first summer I worked here, Kid had already been working for a while. He hasn’t changed much since then. That first summer for a little bit – I did in fact, had a little crush on him. It was something in his edgy persona and style that made my nineteen old self attracted to him. But with time this attitude became more unattractive than attractive, and my little crush turned into pure disgust.

Of course, he had his good moments as well. One night two months ago, just before I stared university, it was just him and I working on a Tuesday night. It was a very slow night, so Shanks left early and left us to close the place. As we were going for last orders, Kid was behind the bar cleaning it, while I was picking glasses from empty tables, as we still had some customers left. On one of the tables where three guys, around the age of forty-something, were sitting I tried to reach for the empty glasses, smiling politely at them. I felt a hand on the back of my thigh going up to my butt and squeezing it hard. I jumped back in shock and dropped all the glasses I had in my hand. The broken glasses shattered on the floor. The men burst out laughing at my frozen expression, but their laugher was quickly cut, as the guy who touched me got his head smashed on the table hard. The bang of the impacted of his head hitting the table echoed through the whole place. Kid had seen everything that had happened, and he was seeing red. He dared the guy and his friends to think about doing it again. They all locked at him with fear in their eyes. The man’s face, who harassed me, was all covered in blood, one of his teeth has fallen and probably his nose was broken. I was just standing there still frozen from shock. Kid kicked them out, the rest of the customers, as well. He came close to me, trying to shake me out of the shock. I still remember the way he gently placed his hand on my face, cupping my cheek, his fingers feeling rough on my skin. He tried to keep his tone calm as he called my name. It took me some seconds to come back to reality. Kid was standing very close to me, in a way that we have never been this close physically. He looked into my eyes, and I could see how mad he was but at the same time there was this hint of worry in them. We stayed like this for a moment until he took a step back and removed his hand from my face. He cleared his throat and told me that he has already called Shanks, and he will be here soon. I just nodded at him as I was still speechless. He told me to go and change my clothes.

When I came back Shanks was already here, and he was like a fuming bull, swearing that he would find these men and make them pay. When Shanks saw me, he came to me and hug me tight, I started to cry in his embrace, as he gently patted my head. He then proceeded to tell Kid to walk me to Shanks’ place, as he was not letting me stay alone tonight, and that he would be dealing with the police and the bar on his own. I was about to say that this was not needed but none of them let me have the word. Kid and I were walking toward Shanks’ apartment, but didn’t speak at all. I broke the silence, thanking him for what he did, and that he shouldn’t have done it as might of now he could be in trouble. He shushed me quick, saying that he didn’t want to hear any thanks or apologies from me, and that he did whatever everyone else in his place would do. We reached Shanks’ place shortly after. I pulled my keys out to open the door, but Kid stopped me as he came close to me again, as when we were in the bar. I gave him a questioning look. He was looking at me like he wanted to say something, his scared eye twitching a little. We stayed like this for a moment then he shook his head, more to himself than me, and told me to take care of myself, as he quickly left. The next time we worked together he was back to his arrogant self, so I guess it was something from the adrenaline rush that he got that night that made him act, so strange. But we never really spoke about what happened; neither had Shanks told me what happened after with the police and ect., both of them act like this never happened and every time I’ve tried to speak about it with Shanks, he cut me off almost immediately.

“What you got all dreamy about sucking me off?” Kid smirked with me as I got zoomed out.

“Yeah, you wish.” I snorted. He glanced at me but didn’t say anything.

The place was full. I looked at my phone and it was a little after 10PM so the band should come out and start playing any moment now. The image of the three guys seeing me earlier in my bra came up in my mind and a chill of embarrassment ran down on my spine. Someone got on podium, but it wasn’t who the crowd was waiting for.

“Hello there beautiful people.” Shanks announced on the microphone. “When my precious, like a son, friend came to me two weeks ago and told me, that I should give this month gig to his brothers’ band I was very critical at first. Then he played me some of their songs and I was impressed. I was even more impressed that the thickets sold out in one day. One day – can you imagine.” The crowd cheered loudly – some screamed the band’s name, some whistled, and others applauded. “So a big shout out to my friend Luffy.” A loud screaming and cheering that I could recognise from miles away echoed around, but from where I stand, I couldn’t see my friends. “I’m not going to keep you guys waiting anymore – big and loud applause for ‘The Neighbourhood’.”

I stopped what I was doing to watch them coming up the stage. The first one to step on stage was the guy with the light blue hair and the thick black framed glasses, he went and took his position next to the bass guitar and picked it up. I hear some girls yelling his name ‘Deuce’ loudly. Next was the blacked haired, covered in tattoos guy, he took the guitar that was on the right side of the stage. A girl standing next to the bar screamed to her friend something along the lines ‘get me pregnant Law’ and I looked at her shocked. Then the blond guy came up on stage and started to raise his hands up in the air making everyone going louder and louder. Before he sat behind the drums, he sent a kiss to someone in the crowd and a big grin appeared on his face. My heart was beating fast in my chest as I was expecting the last guy to come up on the podium. There was this small voice in my head telling me that it will be him – the guy from the coffee shop today. But then this wasn’t some Disney movie, so probably them having the same name was just a pure coincidence. The three guys started to play some chords, and their vocalist join. I recognised him immediately. There he was – no beanie on, his raven black hair messy and freely falling around his face. I didn’t notice back in the coffee shop, but he was quite tall. It was something in his aura that made him stand out from the others. Now dressed in a loose fit black pants and leather belt, with his silk black shirt tucked in them, sleeves up till his elbows, buttons unbutton revealing his muscular chest – he was breathtaking to look at. The red beam neckless around his neck adding a nice touch to his outfit. The other three guys stared humming the back vocals.

Ooh, I know once you come to California You won't ever look back Ooh, just a little bit can make you wonder You got it in

Ace took his guitar on with a smug look on his face. I was watching him carefully from the bar, far away yet not that far, as I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Then he stared to sing. Hands up, it's a stick up Nobody's leaving this room for a minute

He sounded even better live, than in their records. I was mesmerised by his voice. It was so melodic, yet a little rough only adding to his appearance. I was just enjoying their performance as they were super good – all four of them.

“I swear to God you are gonna make a puddle her.” I heard yelling in my ear as I turned around and saw Kid standing behind me. “Stop staring – start working, damn it.” I quickly came back from the trance that Ace put me in and got back to work. They were on their fourth song when I saw Usopp on the queue for the drinks.

“Usopp!” I shout out his name, hoping that he would hear me, over all the noise. He did look in my direction without realising at first. He looked again and saw me clearly this time and he made his way to the side where I was working.

“They are good, right?” Was the first thing he asked me when we got close enough so I could hear him. I eagerly nodded my head.

“Are you kidding me. They are amazing.” They were already on their fourth song and so far, everything was great from what they’ve played.

“You shall meet them; they are all great guys. If you have time when they are done performing come by our table and we can introduce you to them.”

“Yeah about that... I kinda already met them...” Three out of four already has seen me embarrassing myself, and I thank to whatever power was out there – God, universe – whatever, that Ace wasn’t in the ‘basement’ when I waked on the guys half-naked.

“What do you mean?” Usopp got confused look on his face by what I’ve just told him.

“Story for another time.” I brushed it off quickly. “What do you want to drink?”

“Rum and coke, please. Make it four.” I started to make the drinks as I was taking quick glances at the stage. They knew how to entertain the crowd. Their stage confidence was noticeable. “Will you be able to carry all four at once?” I asked Usopp handing him the drinks. He confidently nodded.

“The moment you are out of the bar, come to us.” He shouted behind his back as he was leaving with the drinks, too focused not to drop them or someone to push him.

The band finished with the fourth song and the blonde guy took over the microphone:

“A very big thank you to everyone coming here tonight.” He was a little out of breath, as I can only imagine what was it like playing the drums for half an hour without stopping for even a second. My eyes moved to Ace who was taking a sip of his water. He turned his head at my direction and our eyes met. Ace raised his eyebrows in disbelief and squeezed his eyes to make sure that he saw right – that he really saw the girl from the coffee shop. I panicked and squatted down to the ground hiding behind the bar. “Big shout out to Shanks for letting us play here tonight – please a round of applauses him.” He raised his hands to applaud Shanks, and the crowd followed. “Big shout out to all off you who came to support us here tonight, I see some faces in the crowd who were there for us from day one till today.” Another round of applauses followed. “And- and the biggest applause and thank you goes to my amazing girl – Koala.” He paused taking a breath in and out. “Koala, baby I love you. This new song that I wrote is for you, and you only. Sadly, I wasn’t blessed with the voice that my brother has, but I will be in the back pouring my heart out on the drums, enjoy everyone.” Everyone started to cheer and applause.

I got back on my feet again as I heart the last thing the blonde guy said. Ace just patted him on the shoulder and laughed as he took over the microphone again. He looked around as he was still laughing.

“I’ve had always imagined that the first time I would have to sing a song dedicated to a girl, will be for a girl I’m in love with, you know?” He joked with the audience. “I still haven’t met the one, but my brother did. I’m telling you the first time I sang his songs to his girl – it was awkward.” Everyone laughed, so did I but something more interesting caught my attention from what he said. “I told to myself you know, with time it will get easier, less awkward.” He made a dramatic pause. “I swear to God this never get easier. Bro just learn how to sing.” He turned to his brother in dramatic disbelief, as Sabo only shout at him to start singing. “And you see what I get as a ‘thank you’.” The crowd laughed again. “Anyway – the song is called ‘Compass’, hope you guys like it as much as our other songs. It’s coming out next week so stay tuned.” He announced before they start playing, looking again at the bar but I quickly turned my head around.

“Go pick around some glasses. You are not helping behind the bar anyway.” Kid told me, pissed at my behaviour tonight.

“Now?” I asked surprised. He just glared at me with a killer look, I huffed and got out of the bar.

They started to play, and Ace voiced filled all my sentence. I stopped to listen to the song as I was closer to the podium now.

‘If I don't have you with me, I'm alone You know I never know which way to go I think I need you with me for all-time When I need new direction for my mind’

The song sounded so sweet. I didn’t realise that Ace was looking at my direction as I was focused on listening to the lyric.

‘I know that you're not something to lose, now’

Then the way he sang the last line of the first verse swept me off on my feet, as I closed my eyes loving the way how smooth his voice was. Then the chorus stared, and they were so catchy.

‘I've got something to confess I keep you in my pocket to use You're my only compass I might get lost without you’

As he sang the second verse, hearing minutes ago his brother proudly announcing how much he loves his girlfriend, the lyrics were having such a deep love held behind them.

‘Could you tell me where to go? You're always there to help me when I'm down I'm lucky you've been keeping me around You're the star I look for every night When it's dark, you'll stick right by my side’

It was hard to explain, but it was like something magical was happening around me and inside of me right now. I felt like I’m lost in the moment. Ace started to sing the bridge of the song, and I opened my eyes. The most cliche thing in every possible way - for every movie, book, play or song happened - our gazes met. The time felt like it stopped for a second.

‘Like a magnet Hard to imagine ever changing Anything changing my way Baby, like a magnet Can't help that I'm attracted to you, I am Could you keep on guiding me? Please’

He smiled at me as he didn’t move his gaze from mine. When he sang: ‘Can't help that I'm attracted to you, I am’ - he hold his hands up to his head and shock them, a big smile spread across his face, as I did the same thing back at him. I was in disbelief that he recognised me, yet alone did the whole ‘Fantastic Mr. Fox’ thingy. The last part of the bridge felt very personal: Could you keep on guiding me? Please’ I couldn’t hide away the grin on my face, as I just gestured with my hands a ‘maybe’, as he was looking at me with a playful questioning expression. Ace chuckled and winked at me. When he moved his gaze away from me, I quickly moved around trying to disappear in the crowd as my face as flaming hot.

The song finished the guys were met with loud and well-deserved applauses.

“You really are kind of a quote-unquote Fantastic Fox.” Ace chuckled on the microphone. I knew this was meant for me, even though he couldn’t see me, he made sure I could hear him. Trying to distract myself right now was quite a challenge. All I could think about was this moment of interaction, we had in front of so many people, yet no one knew what was going on.

Three more songs and they were done with their performance for tonight.

“Thank you, thank you all for coming here tonight.” Ace thanked the crowd, loud applauses echoed through the whole bar. “Six months ago, when the guys and I decided to finally start putting out the music, that we have been doing for the past year now, we never expected that people will find such an interest in us. For everyone streaming our music and coming to all the live gigs we have done so far – thank you from the bottom of my heart.” He bowed with his head before he took off his guitar and left the podium. The rest of the guys bowed and thanked everyone leaving a bit after him.

Ace was already surrounded by group of girls as he stepped down from the podium. As every man on this Earth of course he loved the attention he was getting, especially from young and attractive women, but there was this particular girl in his mind tonight that he wanted to get the chance to speak again with. He was thinking of their short interaction today even after she left the coffee shop. It was something about her that piqued his interest, and this hasn’t had happen in a quite long time. Ace didn’t really remember the last time he seriously got interested in a girl for more than a one-night stand or a short situationship.

His experience with girls was quite big, even though it wasn’t always like this. Girls started to pay attention to him around the age of seventeen, when he decided that he must start going to the gym and change not only his appearance, but behaviour as well. The person who he was now, and who he was almost a decade ago, were totally different people. Ace used to be the grumpiest, meanest and enrage kid you could have known; even now-a-days he would catch himself acting like this little kid again and he hated this. Lost in his thoughts for a moment he didn’t realise he had zoomed out until some waved their hand in his face.

“Sorry I got distracted for a second, what were you saying?” He smiled at one of the girls in front of him.

“I said would you mind giving me your autograph?” She teases him with a playful look in her eyes.

“Sure, you have a pen or something.” He gave her the same look, knowing that she was flirting with him.

“There you go.” She borrowed a pen from one of the girls standing next to her. “My name is Samantha, in case you were wondering.” She turned her back towards Ace, moving her hair on the side so he could sign the top of her shoulder.

“What should I write?” Ace took a look at her, from head to toe – ‘nice body, nice ass’ he thought to himself, stepping a little closer to her.

“How about your number?” She smirked at him, as he chuckled at her flirty tone. He checked her out one more time as he licked his lips with a sly smirk.

“There you go, angle.” He wrote his number on her shoulder. He gave the pen back to her with a wink as he continued his way towards the back exit.

Ace wanted to be at peace for just a second. A few more girls stopped him on his way to the back exit, but they were less flirtatious than the girl he gave his number to. Finally, he made his way outside and the moment the cold wind hit his face he breathed out. He pulled out a package of cigarettes, taking one out and lighting it, taking a long puff from it. Closing his eyes as he leaned on the wall, exhaling the smoke. Having attention was nice, especially from women, but that wasn’t so important for Ace. The goal wasn’t women – the goal was to make great music that people could love and enjoy. After every show Ace catches himself in the ‘imposter’ syndrome – that he was not good enough, that the performance sucked, that he was bringing the band down, that he was not a good singer or a guitar player. All these thoughts were hitting him like a truck every time he got off stage, and no matter what people were telling him, he couldn’t shake this feeling. The feeling of never being good enough. He was lighting up a second cigarette, and he noticed it was the last one.

“Fuck, fuck , FUCK.” He cursed himself, taking a puff after puff from his cigarette. As he was taking his last smoke from the cigarette, throwing it on the ground, he thought of her, the girl from the coffee shop. Ace wasn’t the type to believe in fate or anything from this sort of bullshits, but he chuckled to himself. What were the chances that in one day both happened to be in the same place at the same time – two completely strangers. And she was pretty – no, she was gorgeous. There was something in her that was waking up a little spark of fire in him, and she hasn't even had a proper conversation, yet. When he saw her from the stage it was like the time had stopped and he couldn’t move his eyes from her. She was just standing there, enjoying the moment, living in the song – and then she opened your eyes, oh those beautiful eyes which he didn’t have the chance yet to know the colour of, but he was looking forward to finding out soon. He took a few more minutes outside gathering his thoughts, before he put his poker face back, walking inside confidently like nothing was going on inside of his mind.

I wasn’t looking forward to going behind the bar right now, even when I knew I had to, but instead found Nami and the rest of the group.

“There she is!” Usopp saw me first and yelled, waving his hand gesturing me to come faster.

Nami had her head rested on Sanji’s shoulder as she was completely wasted, but Sanji was more than happy to take care of her. On his other side was standing a black-haired guy, a little shorter than Sanji, maybe the same height as Usopp. He was wearing a red oversized t-shirt and baggy light blue jeans. His face was scared under his left eye but still he looked quite boyish with his big grin on his face – I guess this was the infamous Luffy. Next to him was standing Zoro, he nodded at me as he saw me. Zoro was waring bandana on his head, his fit not very different from Luffy’s, the only difference was that his t-shirt was white. Nami tilted her head in my direction and quickly jumped from Sanji’s side, but he quickly grabbed her the shoulders, as she almost tripped and fell.

“Damn Nami, how much you drank, tonight?” I have seen her wasted but never this much.

“Way too much.” Sanji answered me instead of her as she was leaning on him again.

“Luffy, this is (Y/N) – the classmate we have been telling you about.” Usopp interrupted, introducing us as we exchange a handshake.

“Nice to meet you finally (Y/N). I have been hearing a lot about you.” Even thought we were the same age there was something so boyish in Luffy’s voice.

“So did I.” I smiled at him. “By the way, your brothers’ band is great.”

“Oh, I know! I’m so happy that Shanks let them play here tonight.” His smile grew wilder.

“How did you meet my uncle by the way? Nami told me that you two know each other.” I was really curious to know how these two knew each other, especially after Shanks refer to him as a ‘son’.

“Long story short – I was quite a troubled kid until I met Shanks. Then I became even more troubled and reckless.” We all laughed at his joke. “But yeah we met –“he got interrupted by someone shouting his name. We all turned around and the blonde guy from the band was joining to the table, with a girl under his arm, which I guess is his beloved girlfriend. She was wearing a very nice light purple ruffled dress; her shoulder length light brown hair was nicely styled in a blowout effect. Her face was lightened by her big smile and her big dark blue eyes were glowing with love as she was looking at her boyfriend.

“Sabo, Koala – come. This is (Y/N), Nami’s and I best classmate and friend from uni.” Usopp introduced me to them as I awkwardly nodded the moment Sabo’s eyes widen in shock.

“No way, look baby this is the stripper I was telling you about.” He told Koala, as she slapped him on the chest as she turned to me. I was shocked from the comment he just made, so did everyone.

“Stripper? You are a stripper?” Luffy looked at me confused, Zoro slapped him behind the neck, shushing him.

“Don’t listen to him, his humour, is little broken. Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” She smiled at me.

“No don’t listen to me guys. Sorry didn’t mean to offend you, I’m Sabo, nice to meet you officially.” He reached out his hand across the table, and we handshake. The other two guys – the light blue haired and the tattooed one joined as well. As they saw me, they had the same reaction as Sabo, but didn’t make any comments instead they just introduced themself.

“Where is Ace?” Luffy asked Sabo.

“Ah, probably out smoking, I don’t know.” Sabo shrugged. “You know how he is after we finish every set.” Luffy nodded at what Sabo said and continue to talk to Law. Deuce was talking to some girl, who was wearing a ‘birthday girl’ crown, Nami was barely standing, while Sanji was making sure that she was getting enough water.

“I am going back to work; it was nice to see you all.” I tapped Usopp on the shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Zoro.

“No wait a minute, so you can also meet Ace.” Usopp stopped me from going as he hold my wrist. My heart skipped a beat when he mentioned his name.

“Some other time Usopp I promise, I really need to go back, otherwise Kid will kill me at this point tonight.” I pouted at him, and he nodded, understanding my situation and let me go. The universe had other plans whatsoever – turning around I bumped into someone’s muscular chest. He gently held me for a second by the shoulders.

“Easy there, no rush.” I looked up and my eyes met his. Ace was looking at me with a little smirk placed on his face. “Hey (Y/N).” He took a step back giving us some space. He remembered my name.

“Hey.” I smiled at him, tying to hide the fact I was a little nervous.

“You two know each other?” Usopp pointed a finger at us.

“No.” We both said at the same time. “We just met this morning by chance.” I explained to Usopp. “Oh, nice. What a coincidence.” He chuckled as he turned back to Zoro. Little did he know how right he was.

“So, you work here?” Ace broke the silence between us.

“Yes and no.” I laughed awkwardly. “Shanks is my uncle, so sometimes when he really needs help like tonight I just jump in behind the bar.” I explained, looking down at my hands as I was playing with my fingers, a habit I have when I’m nervous.

“Hey.” Ace bent his posture a little trying to catch my gaze, I looked back at him immediately. “I don’t bite – relax.” There was a little hint of teasing in his voice.

“I’m relaxed.” I brushed it off, trying to play it cool. “It’s just strange – from lending me your charger to hearing you perform tonight here was quite a surprise.”

“Yeah, I agree. You- you, um, did you enjoy it?” He ran his hand through his hair, awkwardly scratching his neck.

“I loved it.” I eagerly told him, a little too eagerly for which I cringed at myself. “I didn’t know about you guys until today. Actually, Nami and Usopp invited me to see you performing here, but again funny coincidence.” I started to babble. “Then they played me this song of yours “Cry Baby” and yeah – I can say I’m defiantly a fan now. Especially after I heard you tonight. But I had no idea it was you, until I saw you coming on the podium, so I was quite surprised.” As I continued to babble, he had crossed his arms in front of his chest making, looking at me with half lidded eyes, a little smile playing on his lips. “I think I talk too much.” I awkwardly chuckled. A wild smile spread across Ace’s face, he shook his head, as he laughed.

“What?” I playfully tilted my head at him, wondering what made him react like this.

“I think you need to listen to ‘Cry Baby’ one more time.” He teased me, without giving me any more information.

“Okay, I will.” I teased him back. We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

“Wait how do you know Nami and Usopp?” He was the one to break the silence again.

“We are classmates.” He raised his eyebrows in awe.

“Oh, a filmmaker. What are you the most lead to – directing, scriptwriting or...?” He asked me clearly interested in my answer. I was about to answer him when someone grabbed me by the shoulders and squeezed me hard.

“Ouch.” I turned around and I saw Shanks’ smug smile. He reached his fist at Ace, and they bumped it.

“Ace could I politely ask you to not distract my beautiful niece as she is supposed to work not flirt.” Ace nodded at Shanks’ comment, with a little smirk.

“We are not, I – I’m not flirting.” My whole face got flushed. I took a quick look at Ace, but his face was unreadable.

“Flirting or not – go behind the bar or I will make you stay and clean as well.” I knew he was serious, despite the smile on his face. I just nodded at him and left without even looking at Ace as I was quite embarrassed.

After some time, people started to leave, and the work started to decrease. I saw Ace and the rest of the guys starting to put their instruments away, getting ready to leave. We locked eyes a few times, but nothing more.

“Stop staring and forget even thinking about Ace.” Shanks interrupted my thoughts, his tone serious.

“Excuse me?” I looked at him confused, why would he even tell me this.

“You heard me.” He leaned his forearms on the bar, having a very serious face, something that I rarely ever see. “You only gonna end up hurt Foxy, so be thankful that I cock-blocked you.” He tapped the bar and went away, not letting me say anything further. I continued to clean the bar, Shanks words still in my mind, wondering what exactly he meant by that and a little surprised of how he worded it. “Hey, we are leaving.” I looked up and saw Usopp and the rest of the group behind him. “Thank you for the drinks by the way.” I waved my hand, brushing it off as there was nothing to thank me for.

“It was nice to finally meet you (Y/N).” Sanji told me with a wink, him carrying sleeping Nami in his arms.

“Yeah (Y/N), we have to properly go out these days.” Luffy cheerfully exclaimed, as he came closer to the bar to high-five me.

“We sure need to Luffy.” I smiled at him, Zoro just waved me ‘goodbye’, he wasn’t usually the most talkative but tonight he was extra quiet. They all stopped to say goodbye to Shanks as well, who was standing by the exit. I was still little affected by Shanks’ words and didn’t want to look at him right now.

“You know I discovered that coffee shop recently.” I turned around to face Ace, as I heard his voice.

“It is a hidden gem, right?” I gushed. He smiled at me and nodded.

“So I guess I will be seeing you there?” he raised an eyebrow at me, a little hint of tease in it.

“Definitely Ace.” I smiled at him. He kept his eyes on mine for a moment.

“(your eyes colour).” He murmured, I tilted my head at him wondering what he just murmured to himself. He saw my reaction and just flashed me a smile. “Till next time then.” He winked at me and then he left.

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cybersugru · 5 months ago

Text

❝ rock me ; ricky olson — part one

𖥻 pairing: ricky olson x fan!female reader

𖥻 contains: summer love, angst, +18 contents, second chance romance, a few nicknames ( mostlyrockstar/star)

𖥻 warnings: inspired by one direction's "rock me". swearing, alcohol consumption, legal age gap (reader is 19/20-ish), mentions of smut / english is not my first language. i did change a bit their summer tour from 2019 but bear with me. please. not proof-read!

wc — 8k

synopsis — ricky didn't want a relationship. especially not after his previous one, much less with a girl much younger than him. still, when he met you, his dogma changed and he took you for what would be the best summer of your life if only it hadn't ended in the most dramatic of ways.

🎀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⭒ part one... summer of '19

SUMMER of 2019. that’s when everything changed.

it was a true dream come true. you eventually managed to save enough money to buy both a concert and a plane ticket to see your favourite band perform live; it took months and months of convincing your parents to let you go with your best friend as a birthday gift for you and an equal effort to save said money. still, despite all the hardships, you had made it to the front row.

the night before was hot — painfully hot, for that matter — which in itself was already a good enough reason for your best friend to convince you to go out and explore london together, but not only that it was a special night. we have to go out tonight, for christ's sake, she said and as you protested saying you were tired she rolled her eyes, it's your birthday and we're finally travelling by ourselves... do i really need to give you any more reasons why?

before you realised it, you were out of the hotel, dressed up, and heading towards what google had suggested as the best rock/sports pub in the area you two were in. on your way there, from time to time, a breeze would come through and make not only the heat a lot more tolerable, but also causing your loose little black skirt to dance along with your hair, swirling it around against the night sky and neon lights of the many pubs and stores nearby. at that moment, you stopped regretting leaving the hotel room, for the city seemed to have a life of its own in a way you hadn’t seen before at other places you’d been to and it felt revitalising to be a part of it, no matter how small.

your best friend pointed at the pub you were headed to once you arrived and it was packed inside — it was a friday night, after all; the fact that you two were clearly the youngest people entering the place should’ve been a red flag to you, looking back, but you were too joyful and excited about life to care about that and so as you two entered the place, finding a spot for the two of you became somewhat of a mission that resulted in you standing by the actual bar, near the bartenders and where the air conditioning was much stronger.

“wouldn’t it be crazy if we bumped into somebody from motionless in white here?” she said in a chuckle.

the environment was different from anything you had experienced before, in a positive way — smiling at your best friend was only a natural reaction to that, even more so when she pointed out, laughing, the terrible security job there allowing so many people in a small space. there was an arsenal match replaying on the tv’s but you couldn’t even properly hear the girl next to you due to the loud rock music playing, much less a football game; most of what your senses could smell were either alcoholic beverages or sweat mixed with the cheap perfume of those around you and all you could see was an ocean of people crowding the relatively small establishment that soon began to come together to sing 'chop suey' by system of a down in a single harmonic choir, which made goosebumps travel down your spine as you stood there sipping a fruity drink that matched the warm weather of that night.

it wasn’t until about half an hour or so later, when your glass was empty and your girlfriend had gone to the restroom, that you discovered someone had taken an interest in you.

“hey, that guy over there just paid for your drink,” one of the five bartenders handed another glass of the same cocktail towards you and pointed at an almost impossible-to-see spot across the bar, near a pillar that was clearly separating that area from the rest of the place. some kind of vip reserved area or something like it. as you took the drink from the employee, your gaze searched around to see who was the guy that she was talking about — flirting was not on your to-do-list for the night, but considering it was your birthday, you assumed perhaps you should give it a chance.

you turned your attention back to the bartender to ask if it was a safe drink but before you could say anything, the blonde offered you a reassuring stare, “don’t worry, i made it myself.” and as you thanked her, with your cheeks burning from the heat and the surprise of having someone buy you a drink on your first-ever night out, you continued to search for the mysterious man, wondering what was he like.

once you found him, your blood froze.

he was raising a glass of whisky at you when your eyes finally met his grey ones. the black hair shined beneath the neon lights above him, just like all the silver accessories on his fingers, neck and wrists. his tattoos caught your attention, as well and even though you couldn’t actually see them per se, you already knew what designs and stories his body carried in art form. and for a whole moment, looking at him, it felt like the world had stopped spinning while you were caught in a mist of admiration.

richard olson had bought you a drink. not only that, but the guitarist stared at you without blinking as if you truly were the most mesmerising creature he had ever seen before in his life.

in your mind, there was a mixture of paradoxical feelings both pressuring you into doing something while keeping you static without reaction. you knew who he was, obviously — how couldn’t you? you were there just to see his band live the following night —, and you didn’t want to ruin everything because of that or make him uncomfortable; but at the same time, you’d hate yourself for the rest of your days if you fumbled this once in a lifetime chance because you were scared to do something about it. as much as you wanted to go to him, a part of you reprimanded the idea, trying to convince you that you weren’t that cheap or a groupie.

ricky smirked from across the pub and took a sip of the amber liquid sitting in the glass in his hand. there was no way for you to know what was going on inside his head, naturally, but just from your reaction alone, the musician could tell you were a fan: he was used to the reactions of being recognized in public, it was easy to tell.

between your internal conflict and the crowded pub, air became rarefied and the sounds around you started to fade into an overwhelming background noise that took over you. still, you couldn't drift your gaze away from his, it seemed like the man you had always admired from afar had now casted a spell on you so you couldn’t look anywhere else other than his gorgeous grey blue eyes.

“i swear the bathroom line was ginormous! it took me ten minutes just to get in. ten minutes! i hadn’t even peed yet. can you believe that?” the voice behind you said with a grunt. your best friend rolled her eyes as she found her place again in front of you, but noticing you did not pay a single attention to anything she said, a confused frown formed on her features before asking what was wrong. you failed to answer once again which only made her turn around to see what was keeping your interest so intensely. “oh my fucking god… is that who i think it is? why is he staring at you? did you do something?”

“please shut up,” you instinctively fired. anxiety was creeping in with every passing second and not even the alcohol entering your system as you sipped the drink in your hands was easing it up. “he paid for my drink, but i’m too nervous to do something and he keeps looking in our direction. i don’t want to talk to him. what if he realises i’m a fan? then what?”

“are you fucking for real right now? are you stupid or something?” your friend asked turning back to you, looking completely shocked by your words, “if he does and he doesn’t want anything to do with you, then, hell, i guess you’ll just come back here and we can have fun just the two of us and tomorrow we’ll pretend that nothing ever happened. simple as that. now, please, do yourself a favour and go talk to him or i’ll never let you forget tonight.”

her answer was the reason that pushed you to finally break eye contact with ricky, who was still admiring you from afar. you knew she was right, as much as you hated to admit it that night: there was nothing about that whole thing that could possibly haunt you in your day-to-day life once you returned to your hometown. there was nothing to be afraid or ashamed of as long as you two were respectful towards each other. right?

it wasn’t like you were given the entitlement to choose for long after that — not when said musician left his band and crewmembers, shifting his focus on the path towards where you were, right as ‘you're all i need’ by mötley crüe started playing which left you blushing by the time the dark-haired man stopped in front of you with that same closed mouth smile from before.

“excuse me, may i borrow your friend for a second?” despite his attention being clearly on you solely, his grey eyes shifted for a second to your best friend, who stood there in as much shock as you but soon nodded without saying a lot other than that she would stay where she was in case you needed her, “oh, please come with us. i’m sure a friend of mine would be very happy to meet you, if you’d like.”

and suddenly, the two of you went from young girls enjoying a girl’s night out in london standing by the bar in a crowded pub to two young girls enjoying a night out in london with motionless in white. never in your wildest fangirl dreams did you ever allow yourself to picture such a rendezvous becoming reality.

glancing in your best friend’s direction, looking for any sign that this was not a dream, your eyes found her talking excitedly with vincenzo — considering the way the two of them were gesturing at each other, most likely about video games. the smile on her lips, along with the shine in her eyes, served as evidence of her comfortableness in such an unusual environment and seeing the one person you cared for the most in the world so relaxed, got you to relax and smirk a little as well. if she was having fun then you found it in yourself to allow your mind to enjoy the moment too.

“looks like they’re having fun, right?” the slightly raspy voice behind you said by your ear in a lighthearted scoff. as you turned around, you were met with the image of ricky taking a final sip of his whisky. “this is probably the first time in a while vin found a girl that actually enjoys those games he likes to play in real life, not twitter or something.”

ricky’s comment made you laugh and hearing your laughter congealed the musician’s thoughts long enough for him to forget briefly that he was not in his own company, that there were other people around the two of you despite the reduced intensity revolving everything around him simply due to the amused sound that escaped your cherry-coloured lips because of some stupid thing he said. the dark-haired man hadn’t felt like that since the first date with his former girlfriend and although it did feel good and massaged his ego, richard also hated the idea of going down that road again. and so, ignoring the warmth in his chest, his eyes scanned you up and down.

“sweetheart, how old did you say you were again?”

you answered, soon adding: “tonight’s my birthday”, not noticing how your attention had quickly been redirected from your friend to him, and him only, in a matter of seconds nor how the two of you were standing close to each other. “my ticket for tomorrow night’s concert was my birthday gift.”

the powerful muscle inside your chest stopped beating once the realisation hit you and ricky’s bright eyes kept on staring at you as he furrowed his dark eyebrows. you had never kissed anyone before and yet, against all odds of the universe and what was real or not, you were standing at a finger’s length of one of your biggest celebrity crushes while he showed an almost unbelievable interest in you — although there was no way for you to know that the reality was that he was momentarily rethinking his life choices for wanting to keep talking to a girl that much younger than him; for heaven’s sake, you could do better than him.

“well, in that case," he breathed deeply and leaned closer. "happy birthday, rockstar, i feel honoured you chose our concert for such a big day.” olson chuckled and instinctvely rushed a hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, only to then use it to caress your cheek that seemed rosier than usual due to both the alcohol and the whole interaction with the man before you. “i'll make sure tomorrow’s show will be the best you'll ever see.”

ironically enough, as if the same mischievous universe from before hadn't had its share of fun already with your desperation of being at the older man’s mercy, the background music changed again to kiss’ ‘i was made for lovin you’ right when you found yourself with his hand on your cheek and his lips dangerously close to yours as the seconds went by. it was at that moment that you began to wonder if after that night, love songs would sound different… what if you could never listen to your favorite songs again after a night out with ricky olson? if that was the case, the most desperate romantic part of yourself began to pray for the heavens that it happened because they would remind you of ricky and bring joy to your soul and not tears to your eyes.

the song progressed along with its notes and vocals and all you could focus on was the guy right in front of you. ricky was so close that you could smell the whisky in his breath, the perfume on his body and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke particular to someone who spent time with smokers like he did. your eyes, unsure, raised themselves from the necklace resting on his chest to find his, as pretty as a set of jewels. you remembered once hearing him talk about it in an interview but the words escaped your mind in that moment — it wasn't exactly like your mind was functioning like it should be, anyways.

“what's the meaning of your necklace?” you asked, gently picking it between your fingertips. a bit scared to look up at ricky again.

“it was a part of my grandfather's key collection. i just took it and turned it into a necklace to keep it close, i guess,” he smiled. doing the same thing you did seconds earlier, he picked up your necklace. a single small silver star hanging from a silver chain. “what's your story?”

“my grandma gave it to me when i was a kid and i never took it off since.”

he nodded and played with the medallion a few times between his calloused fingertips before letting it go to focus on you instead. once again, the musician furrowed his eyebrows yet again for a brief instant but it soon disappeared and metamorphosed into a little smirk. “i honestly don't know what to do now. and we haven't even known each other for more than like half an hour.”

“i don't know, man, sounds like you should just kiss her,” the characteristic powerful voice of aj rose up from behind ricky while his back stood facing the two of you as he waited for his drink at the bar. soon, the bottle of beer was in his hand and the tall blonde turned around faking a cough in ricky’s direction, “pussy.”

you couldn't help but laugh. despite the noticeable age difference between ricky — and everyone that worked with the band — and your friends back home, there were still similarities that made you feel a bit less nervous about everything.

olson closed his eyes for a second in irritation and told aj to fuck off while his cheeks turned into a shade of light pink due to the provocations of his friend.

“i'm sorry about that,” he apologized in a murmur while brushing a hand through his black hair that shone beneath the neon lights of the bar behind him.

“it's okay,” you shook your head laughing, “it's nice to see you're not faking your relationship in front of the cameras. that you actually pick on each other like that and not just when there's someone recording it.”

“you're saying that because you're not the one dealing with this behaviour all the time.”

his answer made you giggle again. little did he know that you’d be willing to do crazy things to experience the so-called immaturity of the band and staff. you admired them, there was nothing you'd want more. well, maybe there was and it was mere centimitres away from you.

from the expression on your face to the light glistening in your eyes gazing back at him, ricky knew you truly didn't mind the playful comment from aj and on second thought, it was the push he needed to finally shut the hell up and hold your face delicately so he could wrap his lips around yours in a kiss. your first kiss. with richard olson.

at first it was shy, sweet, romantic even; ricky tried to be as respectful as he possibly could with you, after all he had no right to act like an asshole and crush your heart in exchange for a night of selfish fun pleasure games. still…

after he leaned back for air, the kiss grew more passionate as the two of you allowed each other to deepen it further. the flavours of scotch whisky and peppermint bubblegum resided in his mouth and invaded yours just like the heat coming from your fragile heart did the rest of your body. ricky’s hands held you firmly on your left cheek and your waist, pulling you closer to him as your arms wrapped around the back of his neck.

it felt like a dream come true. so much so that you could barely believe that that was real life, that you were lucky enough to be experiencing such a thing. to kiss ricky like that was a surreal sensation and you begged mentally to pretty much every single powerful deity you could think of for that night to never end.

when finally the two of you were running out of oxygen, you reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, with your eyes closed and biting your lower lip. the feeling of ricky’s lips touching yours still there, making you finally understand hollywood romance movies in which one of the characters becomes addicted to the other's kiss.

richard called for you, pulling you from your awakened dream with the way his thumb caressed the bite marks on your lower lip. he knew that was your first kiss: it was difficult to not notice how you were so adorably awkward trying to mimic his movements or how stiff your body stood. he found it both curious and cute. still, the guitarist said nothing, instead he decided to just admire your features for a second as his heart trembled with something that he hadn't felt in a long time since him and his ex-girlfriend decided to “take a break” that had been going on for over a year, something he didn't want to feel for anyone. not when he still thought about her. not when he still carried a keychain of the tenth letter of the alphabet.

still, he brushed it off. it was impossible to think straight when two very strong conflicting voices were trying to take over his mind: at the same time he hated the idea of being a terrible man to you, someone that broke you on the inside, another part of him despised himself for even thinking about moving on when he could still have another shot at the previous relationship of his. ricky was being selfish and he knew it, which was why he also knew you deserved better than him.

you and your best friend spent the whole night with the band and staff — somehow logan managed to get you a cupcake with a candle for you to blow — and it was the best night of your whole life. pictures were taken on different phones and so were videos of drunk vinny and aj trying to beat ryan and talitha on a match of darts, which they failed, naturally. you talked all night long with ricky and it seemed so easy, so intuitive too that it felt like a breath of fresh air to be free of a mental need to fake or mold your true personality to fit in; you two laughed, talked about your life stories, about the things you liked or didn't and at some point, you and your best friend had pretty much blended into the motionless family that it barely seemed like the two of you were merely fans in the first place.

soon, one by one everyone around you started to leave. first, it was justin and chris who had only agreed to head out to a pub for a beer or two anyway as they were more homebodies than anyone else there; then it was ryan, talitha and bryce. lastly, aj and logan. it was around two thirty in the morning when the only people left of the much larger group were you, your girlfriend, vincenzo and ricky.

“maybe we should head back to the hotel or something," vin suggested while stretching out the tiredness in his body.

that's what the four of you did. on the walk back, filled with stories of both vinny and ricky about the other times they had been in london, your best friend mentioned how all your things were back at the hotel you were staying at. to that, all vincenzo brought himself to answer was: don't worry about that, you can go back in the morning. oh, and when you get to the venue just say you're with us, they’ll let you both in.

perhaps it was the late hour, but thankfully there were no other fans in the hotel by the time you all walked in. ricky suggested going to the rooftop bar but vin refused, saying he would rather go straight to his room and so, after your friend practically begged you to not worry about her, you were left alone with rick on said rooftop.

the weather was far more pleasant than it was when you left for the pub earlier, a gentle breeze even ran across the space and played with your hair. the difference from before was that now you weren't the one fixing your it, for it was ricky’s fingers that forbidded the strands to bother you. his gesture was simple and almost a natural impulse, something the dark haired man did without thinking, but it made your heart race nonetheless. for hours you'd been feeling like life was worth it and it was thanks to the way the entire band had been treating you, but above anyone, ricky, of course.

now that you were older, you realised how stupid you were to believe in him.

being close to each other on large leather lounge chairs near the bar, you could've sworn that time had slowed down for the remainder of the night. nothing you experienced before could ever compare to the birthday you were having. still, a part of you kept on whispering in your ear that you weren't truly deserving of that: you weren't pretty enough, you weren't interesting enough… you knew those were only insecurities trying to destroy your moment but it seemed that no matter how hard you tried, those thoughts just never went away completely despite all the effort you had put into getting ready with your best friend all those hours ago or the fact that, one way or another, you were accompanied by rick. in his arms, more specifically.

“what's going on in that pretty head of yours, star?” he asked, softly pitching your cheeks. the nickname coming from your necklace.

“nothing important," you answered. the reality was that, along with the doubtful thoughts, your brain started to rethink about that night and how one thing so casually led to another until you ended up there with your cheek resting on ricky's chest while the skilled hands of his caressed and massaged the sides of your body.

“i doubt that," he chuckled.

you shifted your gaze back to the older man holding you and just like that all the worries in your mind faded into nothing. your eyes focused on his lips for a millisecond, yet it was enough for him to notice nonetheless.

“would you like to go to my room?” both his hands traveled up towards your face, cupping it on both sides, when the question left his mouth. it was ricky's way to mask the conflict happening still inside his head while still trying to be decent to you.

both of you wanted the same thing, but for different reasons. either way, as soon as he asked you that, you didn't have to say anything else all it took was a nod and a particular expression on your face and before your daydreamer brain could fully process it, you were back in the elevator laughing at the way ricky stumbled over his own feet only to then shut you up with a gentle yet deep kiss.

the way he touched you, the way he tasted and smelled like were numbing your senses, making you weak to your knees. all you wanted then was to be next to him forever. not only was ricky a musician you admired, you discovered he was a great company and showed every indicator that he could be an amazing lover as well.

by a miracle of some sort, the crew managed to book individual rooms for each member of the band, which meant you and rick would have the whole place to yourselves that evening when he opened the door moments after having picked you up in his arms. back then, you thought of the whole thing as evidence of luck: you thought of yourself as the luckiest girl in the whole world.

ricky kicked the door shut and carried you towards the large bed with his hands supporting your thighs around his waist and slightly chapped lips on your neck.

however, right when your back hit the soft surface of the mattress, your body unconsciously froze as your mind began to race at a thousand kilometres per hour with insecurities, fear and anxiety. there were a million questions traveling inside your head that shook the substructures of your confidence that had been meticulously built throughout the years. it wasn't like you weren't used to your consciousness trying to play tricks on you, but that was the worst possible moment for it to happen. besides, you had worked enough on your perception of your own image for things like that to happen the least amount of times possible. so why was your mind trying to sabotage you?

“hey, sweet girl, what's wrong?” rick asked gently. real concern lingered in his grey eyes. “talk to me.”

you faked a smile. “oh, everything’s fine. it's just that–” you stopped, took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “i’ve never… you know… i’ve never done this before. with anyone.”

richard furrowed his brows and leaned closer to you. he let out a comforting smile in your direction before raising a hand to caress your cheek like he had done hours earlier when he kissed you for the first time.

“don't worry about that, star. don't pressure yourself. it's perfectly normal, you shouldn't compare yourself to other people," ricky reassured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “do you want me to stop? i can sleep in justin’s room if you'd like.”

“no, no, stay with me,” you quickly fired back. eyes went wide and your left hand instinctively reached for his lower arm, to keep ricky close. “i don't want you to stop. i was only self-conscious, i think. it's all so new…”

“it's okay, pretty star,” olson’s smile enlarged at your explanation. “just trust me.”

his hands gently pulled away from your face and began moving towards the hem of your shirt, delicately removing the piece of clothing off of you and exposing your chest covered by a pretty burgundy lace bra. for a second, you could've sworn that the guitarist had frozen in time after the revelation, which made you both blush and giggle at his expression before you took matters into your own hands and took off his black t-shirt. now, you were the one mesmerised by the tattoos on his skin that seemed to lure you in like a spell of some kind. glancing up at the brunette, you pulled him by the necklace.

in contrary to your expectations of a warm kiss, ricky stopped in the middle of the path towards you and closed his eyes for a brief moment. you had no way of knowing but in his mind, all he could remember was how his former girlfriend used to do exactly that from time to time when she wanted to kiss him. but you weren't her.

“i'm sorry. got a little dizzy for a sec now.” he reassured, looking back at you. and as if nothing happened, the man above you began to deposit lovely little kisses across your chest and towards your abdomen.

“like i said, trust me, sweetheart.” ⭒

the night you spent with ricky was beyond everything you could've expected or even dreamed of in your wildest reveries.

your body felt a bit sore when you woke up around eight in the morning, but your head was bothering you a lot more from the drinking for you to notice anything on the other members of your body. slowly, you recognised the environment as ricky's hotel room but before you could do anything, a weight around your waist precluded any movement of yours further from the stretching. it was his arm, holding you close to the side of his body as ricky remained peacefully asleep on his stomach.

instinctively, you raised an index finger to brush away a few strands of his shoulder-length black hair so you could observe his features more clearly, for in your eyes, richard was a piece of art right there next to you.

“morning," he mumbled beneath his breath. the magnificent grey blue eyes of his remained close, “what time is it?”

“good morning. it's eight fifteen.”

rick murmured a curse word and finally opened his eyes. upon finding you as the first thing he saw in the morning, the dark-haired man let out a smirk before raising his body to kiss your temple. “wish i could stay for breakfast with you, but i have to go. i'm late and the band’s probably waiting for me.”

you watched as he got ready for the day and all the things he would have to do before going on stage and a part of you was positive that from that day forward, you'd become nothing to him. however, olson got out of the bathroom all dressed and ready and before leaving, he returned to the bed where you stayed, got down to his knees and brushed a hand through your hair gently. “i hope you enjoyed last night, that it was as incredible for you as it was for me.”

tracing a thumb on the valley between your breasts, ricky seemed disturbed by the sight of the purple hickeys on your skin. “i'm sorry about this. i shouldn't have gotten so carried away.”

almost immediately you shook your head and brought that hand on your chest to your lips, where you placed a few light kisses on his tattooed knuckles. “richard, don't do that. last night was the best night of my life and i loved every second of it. if anything, i only resent that it is over.”

the rockstar let out a nasal laugh at your answer to his complaint. you were unbelievable and he was starting to hate himself for not allowing his feelings for you develop into something other than maybe a few weeks-long summer affair. you deserved better than him.

“i'll see you tonight, okay? i'll be searching for you from the stage, star,” he gave you a final kiss on the forehead and left for the day.

you, on the other hand, decided to get ready to enjoy the hotel's breakfast with your best friend after a warm morning shower. as soon as you saw your reflection on the bathroom mirror, you stopped thinking about the things you and ricky had done the previous evening and how you were carrying marks of his handling. memories of the way his hands traveled across your skin or the way his lips devoted themselves in offering you a taste of what heaven was like filled your mind and kept you from going about your activities until you remembered that your girlfriend had texted you saying she would meet you at the restaurant.

on the contrary of what you assumed would happen, the shower didn't wash away the late hours, instead, it made you miss ricky more.

still, you finished getting ready with the clothes you wore to the pub, grabbed your belongings and headed out to meet with your friend.

you found her sitting on a table near the many windows. the traffic outside was still heavy, despite being past rush hour; perhaps it was due to the annoying rain and bad weather — it mattered not that it was summer, london would be london until the end of times.

in front of her, two plates of berries and croissants that she had picked up from the buffet awaited your arrival.

“hey,” you said in a smile while sitting down on the chair across from her. tiredness still lingered on your body and mind. “how was last night?”

“already? we haven't even had a cup of coffee yet," she protested with a fake offended tone, that was soon dropped and replaced with the largest smile you had ever seen on her face. despite the gloomy morning, your friend seemed to be glowing, "i'm gonna marry that man, i swear to god, i'm gonna marry that man. go on, write it down: your bestie will become the next mrs. mauro. seriously, you should've introduced me to this band earlier.”

before either of you could say anything else, a waiter approached the table to ask if the two of you would like something to drink. you ordered a latte and your friend a black tea. right as the waiter left your table, she, who was not a fan of the band in the first place, began to explain how the night in the company of vincenzo mauro went. right as they got to the hotel, she noticed how he became even more respectful than he already was throughout the whole time; vin respected her space and kept his distance, which he only breaked when she started to openly flirt with him.

“but then, he told me he was sorry if that was not what i was expecting but that he would much rather watch something together than to do something together, if you know what i mean. we watched spider man and talked like, through the whole movie. and i wasn't even mad about it, he is just so sweet and funny and smart and kind… i know it's the bare minimum but the fact that vin didn't try and force me to do anything warmed my heart, you know?”

you smiled at her rambling, feeling even more happy for her than you felt for yourself. she was your person and her happiness meant more than anything.

for the rest of the breakfast, you two discussed about you and rick: how you talked for hours and hours about many different topics and subjects like you were long-time friends or something; you told her how special he made you feel and how magical it was to know that ricky was going the extra mile only to make sure you were comfortable in doing the things you ended up doing.

it was crazy how in just a single day you went from a mere fan to, a few hours after that, someone who could enter the venue they would be performing at by giving your name to the security guards.

you and your friend were wearing black dresses: yours was a bit more flowy than hers, though. you two decided to go for a simpler makeup, scared that something could go terribly wrong if you decided to try something new but you compensated on accessories. chains, necklaces, rings, big earrings. you two were feeling both the most beautiful and special you had felt in the longest time.

like they said, vin and ricky found a way to grant you full access, which meant you two got to explore the backstage of a tour like theirs before you found your spots by the barricade, right below the right side of the stage. ricky’s side of the stage.

you were having the time of your life enjoying a live performance of your favourite band after such a long time waiting to finally be able to attend a concert of theirs, but every time the guitarist winked in your direction, you felt like your heart could explode at any given moment.

but nothing, absolutely nothing, could've prepared you for the moment when motionless began to perform city lights, even though they hadn't in years. it was one of your favourite songs from your favourite band playing right in front of your eyes. and as if that wasn't enough on its own, the fact that ricky stood there, looking down at nobody but you during the whole song, was making your heart race in ways it hadn't before.

the performance was impeccable: the guys played perfectly, chris sang like an angel and everything was so special that once it was over and you two were heading back to meet the band, a part of you felt somewhat lost or empty.

justin was the first person you found on your wandering; as you briefly hugged him and your friend complimented his stage presence though she soon switched her attention to someone else behind him. someone that opened up a smile equally as large as hers when he saw her standing there.

“hey, pretty” vinny said, taking her in his arms tightly, clearly not being able to hold back his excitement to see her there.

as your friend stood there talking to vinny — whose eyes seemed to shine while looking at her — you remained on your conversation with justin until he invited you to follow him to the greenroom where the rest of the band was resting after the intense show. “rick’s there, just take a left here and you'll find it, i have to take this: wife's calling.”

shyly, you opened the door to the greenroom like justin told you to do. inside, you found ricky sitting on the couch, head leaned back and eyes closed as he tried to slow down his breathing. seemed like there was no one else there — maybe ryan was somewhere else removing the makeup and lord knew where chris went after the shows. the man was always fixing something or resolving a problem.

“hi… may i come in?” you asked, standing by the door in case he asked you to leave him alone for a little bit.

instead, the brunette only smirked and opened his eyes at the sound of your voice. despite the chaos going on in his mind, the conflicting feelings, a part of him still felt a deep sense of relief in your presence; selfishly, rick wanted to have you around even though he knew he couldn't give you what you wanted and deserved.

"of course, rockstar. come here.”

like the dumb teenager starstruck you were feeling like, you smiled and went to meet him.

“did you like the show?” he asked, taking your hand in his before pulling you to stand between his legs.

“i loved it. you were incredible, all of you.” ricky raised an eyebrow at your answer. “yes, all of you. don't act all dramatic now," you scolded him, rolling your eyes before changing your tone to a curious and confused one, "why did you guys perform city lights? you haven't in such a long time.”

“take a wild guess, star," he chuckled. his hands shifted towards your waist, inviting you to either sit on his lap or next to him on the couch. you opted for the second choice, afraid that someone would enter the room and catch the both of you in an indelicate position. “you told me last night at the pub you like the song a lot and it's your birthday weekend, you deserve something special.”

the words that left ricky's mouth haunted your thoughts for the rest of the time you spent there in his company and the band, that soon all returned for a little get together, since they would have more time until the next concert so it seemed like nobody felt the need to rush getting out of that venue or out of london.

it was close to eleven in the evening when the whole crew — makeup artists, dancers, producers, photographers and more — got together with the band in the greenroom that apparently had a balcony attached to it that you missed earlier. justin was the only one that had gone to the hotel so he could get to bed a bit earlier than the night before. vinny and your best friend were outside on the balcony with ryan and talitha, the drummer’s hand never once leaving her waist.

on the couch were you, rick, chris and angela talking about everything and anything at the same time. rick’s hand rested between your thighs which, in turn, were on top of his while your head rested on his chest.

“hey, you,” the guitarist holding you whispered above your head when chris and angela left to go get more pizza. around the two of you, people were talking and music was playing much like a party backstage of a big concert and yet, as soon as his smooth voice came in your direction, everything seemed to have been muted out for as long as he needed your attention, "would you like me to take you to your hotel? i don't know if you're comfortable here, but we can leave if you'd like.”

you shook your head in denial, a small close-mouthed smile on your lips. “i'm good, i promise. being here, getting to know everyone and them being so welcoming is quite literally a dream. don't worry about me.”

ricky smiled and kissed the top of your head, “you're too good to be true.” ⭒

somehow, you managed to convince your parents — and your best friend’s — that you two had won a competition in which the prize were two tickets for the motionless in white concert in milan. looking back, you wondered how the hell they believed and trusted two kids to travel around europe alone. what you didn't mention, however, was that milan was only going to happen three weeks after london; until then, the band would stop in other cities throughout the continent. either way, though, you got them to believe you and that was how you and her were cleared to travel along with the band to their next tour stop.

you went sightseeing and people watching with your best friend and sometimes with the guys and girls when they had free time to do so. what was supposed to be a week long trip to london for your birthday turned into a three week long trip that became the best of your life.

ricky and yours relationship was particularly difficult to label, but the way he insisted on making sure you knew how special you were in his eyes, how easily you eased his thoughts and inspired him to compose new pieces, gave you the peace of mind needed to continue on that journey. he verbalised his feelings, gave you kisses and hugs that healed every bit of insecurity you could possibly have in your heart; spending time with ricky never felt like a burden or unnatural, instead, it felt like swimming in the widest ocean. peaceful, quiet, healing. it was a feeling he shared, as well.

or so you thought.

it was the night before the milan concert. you and rick were alone in your hotel room and he was waiting for you to come out of the shower and get ready so you two could go out for a “proper fancy dinner date”, as he'd worded.

right as you stepped out of the bathroom, outfit on and hair freshly done, you heard his voice but before you could say anything you found him talking on the phone with someone that, at first, you failed to identify.

“yeah, i missed you too. are you really here?” he said with the largest smile you had ever seen on his lips. the same lips that offered you comforting words and wildfire kisses. for a second, you tried to convince yourself that it could be a family member. but from the very first second, your heart knew. “are you free tonight? i’ll come over and pick you up. no, no, i'm not doing anything tonight. yeah, okay, just let me know. i love you. bye.”

unfortunately for you, right as ricky finished the call, your mouth seemed to work faster than your brain to stop it from asking: “who was that?”

and just like that, unlike before, your voice wasn't a source of relief and peace for the guitarist: it was one of terror. his face went pale upon hearing your question, the smile on his lips died as quickly as his body moved to get close to you as if that would somehow make it easier to digest.

“oh, nobody important. are you ready?”

feeling enraged by his audacity, you pushed his hand away from your cheeks and took a step back, "i don't go around saying i love you to people who aren't important to me, richard. who the fuck was that?”

his heart froze inside his chest at the face of such an adversity. for the first time in forever, ricky didn't know what to say to you: honesty would tear you apart from the inside much like deceiving you would. that was the worst possible scenario for him and yet, all he could think of was how he was going to get out of this situation without ruining his public reputation to his fans.

he took a deep breath and closed his grey eyes for a second. “my ex. i'm meeting her tonight.”

tears immediately invaded your eyes. though your mind took longer than that to process the information that you had been nothing but a mere toy for him for the last few weeks, your eyes filled up anyway.

you had trusted him with your heart, your respect, your deepest feelings for well over seven years — and if that wasn't enough, your body, too, for the first time in your insignificant existence in this world. crushed wasn't even a word destructive enough to begin explaining or expressing just how shallow you became in a matter of a few minutes. on a moment you were on top of the world, the next everything fell apart and you felt like a dirty mess.

a crumpling sensation began to take over you, numbing your senses and making you want to disappear into thin air. you didn't even have the strength or the energy to discuss with him, but you just couldn't watch your honour being dragged into the dark like that and stay quiet. "what?"

ricky rolled his grey eyes and let out a sigh. "i'm meeting her because i miss her."

his answer hurt you in a deeper way than you could ever deem possible.

despite your best efforts, it was only getting harder to keep it together and although you wanted to yell, to break every single thing in that room, you did nothing of that, instead hearing the tiny voices in your head repeatedly reminding you of how stupid of you it was to trust a man who could have anything he wanted.

"don't make a scene out of this," ricky added, in a tone that sounded more like a demand than a request. "i've known her a lot longer than i do you, it's not like it's much of a choice."

that only served as the final twist of the knife carved inside your chest that slaughtered your heart with an astonishing ease.

extremely hurt, you pushed ricky away from you and slapped his face, out of sheer anger, sadness, frustration and all the other emotions that could take over a person after being used like some kind of backup plan while the person that they practically worshiped waited for a better option for what they wanted.

“don't fucking talk to me ever again” you somehow got to say it before grabbing the few things you could carry, only to then head towards the door. “i really hope she breaks you like you're breaking me. that's what you deserve."

and you closed the door feeling every tiny piece of once was your heart falling to the floor beneath your feet as you carried on your way to go back home as soon as possible.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⭒ part two... under the moonlight

#— ✴︎ 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 !#— ✴︎ 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 !#— ✴︎ 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 !#ricky olson #ricky horror #ricky horror olson #ricky olson x reader #ricky olson x you #ricky horrror x reader #miw #motionless in white #ricky olson x female reader #ricky olson fanfiction #miw fanfiction #miw fanfic #motionless in white fanfiction #ricky olson smut #ricky olson angst

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