#am I reading this in my works car park yes I am

[jolalibrary]

omg!!!! I read this this morning and then I saw you reblogged! and omg! (I mean this was ages ago, but im blessing you with the reminder of jo’s first mirror sex 😂) September us had no idea what April us would be like @goodwithcheese

the day frankie came home

frankie morales x f!reader | resurrected chances

he’s been gone for ten days, and don’t you both know it.

wordcount: 3.2k themes: smut. p in v. fingering. cunnilingus. mirror sex. frankie talking dirty. an: this is in the same world as resurrected chances, but you don't need to read it. it does follow on from long distance - but again can be read without.

written for the #hauntedhoedown kink: mirror sex. be kind, i do not write smut, but this idea was ✨

Restfulness has become your new friend.

It encasing its hands around you, sliding its long fingers up and over your shoulders as soon as your eyes had opened. It tightening its hold when you had sipped your morning coffee—the bitterness mixing with the sweetness of your excitement.

Because he‘s on his way.

Your eyes landing on the boots you hadn’t had the heart to move.

The ones abandoned, him having promised to put them away the night he’d been packing. You purposefully choosing to leave them there, allowing yourself to live a fantasy that he hadn’t gone anywhere to begin with.

Those boots, and the hat he left behind, making you feel less lonely, even if he called, texted.

You’re just grateful that soon you wouldn’t need to play pretend.

Sweeping your eyes over the place, you gnaw at your bottom lip. Weight shifting from leg to leg, toes curling against the wooden flooring. Your heart hammering, knocking on your ribs and vibrating through your body—

Then you hear it—the sound of soon arriving.

The noticeable grumble of his vehicle, headlights splaying light through the partially opened blinds and curtains, shimmering light over the life the two of you had begun building.

It flutters through you, that excited apprehension—all quickly, more forcibly. Beating into your bones as your fingers twitch at your side—thighs pressing together—dancing the tips of your nails over the new lace and silk bought for his return.

You hadn’t known how quiet your home could be without him, until you slid open the tissue paper that housed the lingerie you’d chosen with him in mind. The purchase you’d kept a secret, burning a hole in your chest when he’d asked about your day—voice dripping, husky and sultry, down the phone as the surprise curled furiously on your tongue. Even more so when he slid the intensity up on the app—your moan falling with so much ease, you’re sure he could have made you confess to things you’d never even done. Asking you in a low whisper, have you been a good girl?

The sound of his door slamming shut makes you move—not quite a jump, but it isn’t a flinch either. Your throat is dry, suddenly unsure what to do with your hands. Your body.

Do you pose?

Do you lean on the sofa for him to come into the house?

It was new, this—it all foreign.

Previously, Frankie had only ever been gone a few days since the two of you had bought the house. Even then, there had been little point (or time) in building up his return with whispered phone calls and long-distance apps that turn your knickers from something practical to something that makes your thighs shake, and your toes curl.

“Bet you look as pretty as you sound, baby.” “Can’t wait for you to see for yourself, Frankie.”

You’ve dreamt of him. Waking up, hand stretched out, greeted only by cold and ensnared in disappointment. A temptation, a need—one you ignore if only to keep your promise.

But now he’s here.

Your eyes spot him, noticing the outline of his broad shoulders and loose curls in the glass of the front door. His key sliding in, catching, your heart all set to thump out your chest, tongue heavy, thick—

Then you’re swallowed by his eyes. Brown and soft—before shifting into something instantly devoured by lust as his duffel meets the ground with a thump, the door shutting with a slam.

“Fuck.”

Shifting on the spot, your fingers brush against the top of your thigh. “You like, baby?”

From the smashed photo frame, (likely) chipped key bowl and takeout menus scattered across the entryway floor, Frankie likes you in this lingerie.

His mouth is hot, slanting over yours as the roughness of the sideboard scratches against your skin.

You don’t complain—you’d never complain. Demanding him closer, desperate to have him flush against your body; wishing to feel every inch of him, against every part of you. All the things you’ve missed, the laughter, the body heat, slams into the desire that’s ebbed and flowed since he’d left.

He must be thinking the same. His pulse quick, racing—fluttering against your palm as your legs wrap around him. Fixing him here, keeping him in place. Words such as ‘Don’t leave me, don’t go anywhere ever again’ wanting to fall. Instead, they’re spilt behind his teeth, never heard by his ears.

Frankie answers you in the way he knows how.

His mouth descending, tongue swirling and sliding over lace, silk and cloth, until he’s staring up at you from his knees. Mouth latching over the fabric which covers your pussy—hungry, desperate, needy.

With a movement and a tug, he brings your legs over his shoulders. Your underwear being slid to the side, already soaked—ruined.

His eagerness fuels you, making you arch, finding leverage on the wood as you grip the edge—feeling his fingers slide the lace from your skin before he licks a long stripe up your seam. But it isn’t that which makes your toes curl, but the noise he emits when he does.

The air thinning, tightening��warmth pooling in your stomach as something loosely ties, begins to knot. You gasp, fingers finding refuge in his hair, clutching his curls as he spells something against your core.

One thing you’ve learnt, is when his tongue is on you, he can move it like it’s made of liquid. Frankie rolls and flicks—lapping up all he can as he silently begs you for more. Each movement done with the aim to crack you open—all desperate to find the prize hidden inside of you.

The one Frankie always finds.

His lips latching to your clit, sucking, fingers slipping in—spreading you as you moan.

He’s determined like that, made from grit and shaped by orders and missions. Something to prove ever on his mind. They’re set by him, expected by him—aiding and guiding—to drive him as he replaces his fingers by plunging his tongue inside you. Your head flips back, eyes open—staring at the light fixture he’d been so proud to fit, canting your hips, riding his face—

“Shit, Frankie—fuck, there, please.”

He knows.

You know he does. It’s why he’s being relentless. It’s a reward, and a thank you—both for waiting and reminding him he’s something worth waiting for.

It’s why you’re sure you can feel him smiling against you, it broadening when your vision goes white—spots in the corners, throat spraying his name against the entrance hall of your home.

You also suspect it’s why he doesn’t remove his face for several seconds, seeing what more he can coax from you.

A breather is barely given before you’re being led—more dragged—from the hallway to your bedroom.

He’s wearing a grin, all mischievous and hungry.

If you didn’t want to have him inside of you, you’d ask why. What it was he’s thinking of, let him draw it out—map it, so the two of you can make it a reality. Instead, you decide to allow him to show it to you. Let suspense build where restfulness has carved a hole in you.

You are not someone who likes the unknown, but with him, you surrender. All trusting without question, something he knows, sees. Enjoys.

A thing he’s whispered against your skin plenty of times when the two of you have caught your breaths, limbs tangled and peppered in sweat.

I love that you trust me, querida.

It's a dance now. One the two of you excel at, forever performing at the top of your game. You know to leave your need for control at the door—surrendering it to him; he knows to take the baton handed to him proudly—brow cocked and smirk evident—as he guides you to where he needs you.

He created words, pinned them to the corner of your brain—a place never blown away by pleasure or need. Just in case, he had said, mouth brushing over your neck. Want you to always feel safe, Cariño.

The word had only been whispered once—a while ago. You’d watched how his act went, dissolved, vanished, pulling you close and providing you all the comfort he could give as you apologised and provided whispered explanations.

It’s why it was easy to give him control, you knew you could trust him—with your heart, body and soul.

He pulls you back, demanding your entire attention—likely realising he’s lost you to your come-down and your thoughts. His fingers under your chin, forehead pressing to yours. “Te he extrañado, baby.”

“Missed you more, Frankie.”

If it sounds childish, you don’t care. Lips catching him, ghosting over his, wearing a giddy smirk as the back of your knees press against the mattress, folding with all the ease he needs.

There’s a dull ache blooming—even after your orgasm. It weaves with the warmth still thrumming in your thighs from his antics in the living room. This time, you’re admiring him from below him. How his hand grasps the back of his t-shirt before it’s rid from his body in one swift movement, revealing him, displaying how broad he is—all soft, toned, golden and carved.

You steal his earlier sentiment, letting ‘fuck’ roll from your swollen lips in a sharp puff—watching his lips slide into his cheek, burying itself in dimples and cockiness.

Then he’s following you down, encasing you, locking you between his forearms as his mouth slants over yours. The taste of you is evident, all sweet on his tongue as you reach for him, palm against his hardened cock, earning a groan, a vibration that travels through your tongue to your soul.

Frankie is all heat, the weight pressing down on you in a way you hadn’t known you’d craved until it was heavy on you. Pinned, nowhere to go—not wanting to be anywhere but here, anyway.

That is, until your hand shifts, rising up, sliding to the place that keeps him from you freely. You’ve become a seasoned pro at belts, one-handed—able to free him with relative ease when he isn’t able to aid you. When opportunities have forced you to be discreet and quick, those stolen moments that have prepared you for moments such as this.

He’s taking pity on you today—all desperate and hungry in his movements to shove his jeans down, before you feel him against your thigh. His fingers lift your chin to his face.

“I’ve got an idea, baby.”

His voice honey, dripping. Sultry.

“I wanna see you. All of you.”

Your brows lift, eyes widening—mouth finding him as he captures and steals any momentary protests. As if you’d have any.

Least of all, when he’s rocking his hips against you, alleviating pressure, so hard against you that you want to wrap your fingers around him. Let him fuck your fist, spill against your stomach and forearm—coat you in him, leave you sticky and content.

Frankie has other ideas.

Seemingly having tuned in, radioed into your mind—he takes your wrists, pulling them up, pinning them with one of his.

“Thought we can show that mirror you bought a thing or two,” he continues, dropping his mouth, latching it to your jaw, your fingers curling. “The one from Amazon—can put it at the bottom of the bed.”

Your response is embedded in a depraved noise, his weight having shifted, his hips rolling—the head of his cock rubbing against the lace between your thighs.

He’s waiting, staring. Nervousness set to bloom across his features, ridden only by your smirk, doused by your nod.

“Go fetch it, Frankie.”

He makes you stand before it as soon as it’s in place. Your eyes try not to linger or fixate—not wanting to lose the confidence you mustered to welcome him the way you did.

Because a part of you wants to hide, curl away, now that you’re bare.

Your underwear is lost, discarded in some darkened corner of the bedroom. Frankie hadn’t ripped it from you, he’d slid it from you. Unwrapped you from head to toe like you were a gift—carefully peeling, delicately removing, kissing along your exposed skin before throwing it to the side.

“Look how pretty you are, baby.”

You don’t look at yourself, even under his praise. You look at him. Watch how he drags his eyes up and down your frame, drinking you, hungrily swallowing the view he had in front of him.

His mouth latches to your neck, before his cheek is next to yours. “Gonna fuck you with my fingers, and you’re gonna watch, aren’t you, baby?”

It’s hard not to hold his stare, silently accepting. Your hand moves, grasping for him, only to feel one of his slide down your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake, as he moves, shifts, until your palm is on the wall next to the mirror.

“Eyes on your face or your pussy, baby. Your choice.”

You opt for the latter. Watching, yet feeling, his arm snaking, sliding, before he teases two of his calloused pads over your slick folds. Teasing, taunting. Teeth nipping at your neck as he buries them in you.

His name falls, slicing through the air as your eyes lift to his face. The look of bliss smothered across every inch of it. Before you drop your gaze again—wanting to be good, needing to be. His fingers fucking into you–soaking them, him, his palm collecting your slick.

“Keep your eyes open.” Flipping your lashes up, you swallow. Finding purpose on his face. “There she is, fucking look at the mess you’re making, baby.”

“Frankie…”

“I know,” he croons, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Such a good girl letting me fuck her with my fingers.”

You shudder as his thumb catches your clit, eyes struggling to remain open—fixed, watching him as he observes you. The corners of your sight blurring, engulfing in tears that threaten to spill from how good he treats you, how kind he is, how—

“Want you to fuck me, Frankie.”

He groans, hard and low, all deep. Vibrating through his chest—through your back—as a hand remains on your hip.

“Want you to fill me, baby,” you whine, latching your eyes onto him. “Need you. Please.”

For a moment, you don’t think he hears you. But then he stops. Suddenly empty, his tongue swirling over his fingers before his mouth is on yours, lips consuming you, tongue kissing the back of your teeth. Leading you, moving you, until he’s nudging your legs up, fabric grazing skin, until you’re on your knees at the foot of your bed.

The mattress groans as he joins you—placed right behind you, leaning back on his knees. He envelops you from behind, looking every bit like he’s been crafted from an imagination.

His hair is all wild, skin all flushed—all of him looking as handsome as ever, his eyes sweeping up and down you through the mirror.

Your eyes drop to your waist, finding his fingers—long and stretched—over your hip. Can see it, the evidence of your earlier spend glistening between your thighs—the low light from the hallway casting a glow, all amber and delicate over the two of you.

“Anyone tell you that you’re beautiful,” he whispers smoothly.

Guiding you to tilt at the hips, before rubbing the head of his cock through your folds.

“You—mainly.”

He smiles, all drowsy and heart-stuttering. “Let me tell you again,” he says, lining himself, lifting his hips. “You’re beautiful.”

You sink down on the last syllable. Taking him inch by inch—doing it so well—right to the hilt. It’s all you’ve thought about—him filling you. Him being buried so deep inside of you that you feel him for days. You crave m bruises and soreness, just so in the brief moment between sleep and awake you knew he was really here, home.

Because you imagine tonight you’re going to sleep well.

His teeth running along your shoulder, nipping at your skin. Frankie grunts as you lift, a drawn-out hiss greeting your ear as you sink back down, taking all of him again.

You like how your name sounds falling from his lips, how he presses it into your skin, stamping it there. A needier murmur of your name, a silent plea.

Then he begins to move.

Rocking into you, dragging his cock in and out as a strangled cry leaves your mouth. Because it wasn’t a plea, it was an announcement—a courteous heads up.

You meet his stare in the mirror, heat flooding over you, before you drop your eyes to where you’re connected.

It’s a sight to watch. Because Frankie is big, thick. He has always made you feel full, stuffed—practically spaceless—just like he is now. Clutching you close, skin rippling as he fucks into you and steals the air from your lungs as he picks up his pace, finding a new rhythm.

“Frankie—fuck, baby.”

He makes more of your hisses and whimpers fall, each one painting the room, dousing it in what he’s doing to you—how good he’s making you feel. His hand rising, fingers spreading. Calloused pads dancing right across your abdomen, likely feeling your muscles contract under his palm as you meet him with all you have.

Then, your attention is drawn to his other hand. The one which cups your breast, and pinches your nipple between index and thumb—making you cry out his name. Only to be rewarded by the sight of his lips having spread into his cheek, hungrily staring at you—before his palm finds a home on the base of your neck.

“Made for me. Dios mío, your pussy is tight, querida. So perfect. Fuck.”

Your lashes flutter, squeezing him as he finds that spongy spot that makes your knees feel unsteady, and licks heat up your spine.

“Y’look so good takin’ me. Don’t you? You see it?”

You do, you see. Nodding dumbly. All uncoordinated as your arm loops around the back of his neck, hips trying to maintain his rhythm as he whispers more into your ear. His eyes on you, staring like you’re a gift from the heavens. His eyes all blown and pupils swallowed by his irises—and you’re not sure he’s ever looked so good.

“So full, Frankie.”

His eyes lift from where the two of you are conjoined to your face, finger brushing, removing the tear from your cheek—the one caused by him and how good he fucks you.

“I lo–, fuck, ‘love you,” you cry.

Shifting his hips, you’re suddenly breathless, fingers tightening ever so slightly on the base of your neck. Just enough to make your lungs burn from how much you’re gasping at the new angle—whimpers falling like glitter, all shimmering—as your hand grips the one over your abdomen. Nails bedding down, half-moons left in his skin.

Because you need to come. Need to crash or fall, descend or ascend.

“Please, baby. There, right—there. Please, ple—“

You’re not sure if the last plea escapes. It’s muffled. Robbed. It rips through you, slowly—torturously. It beginning somewhere deep, snarling and fuelled with white-hot flames before it splits through barrier after barrier, curling toes and making you tremble before your body is even aware of the intensity of it.

It’s liquid. You’re liquid. All bursting, nerves sparking, all-electric and gasoline as your pleasure engulfs you—sound gone, sight gone. Senses ticked off one by one as your skin goes hot, feeling him still, all overstimulated and trembling against him as you hear murmurs of him begging, pleading against your skin.

The first thing your eyes are able to decipher between the spots is him. Mouth parted in a silent moan, brows furrowed, body sheened with sweat as his muscles flex as he grips you tight. Then you hear it—the way your name curls from his tongue, greets your ear with both a kiss and a punch, his hips stuttering, white ropes coating your walls as you feel yourself become boneless—weightless.

Time slows, barely ticks. Blinking, seeing—for the smallest of moments—what it was he was seeing in the mirror as you stare at him, watching him lose himself. All because of you.

Then, the moment shifts—finding yourself slowly being laid down, face turned, finding him—finding soft brown eyes and his sloped nose. That kind smile and flushed skin, and you break a bit differently than moments before when his lips lazily brush over yours—little sniffles, eyes filling with tears as you watch his eyes widen.

Because he’s here, he’s home.

No waiting for a phone call, no need to make do with a toy he can control. He’s just here, staring at you, body so close you can feel the heat rolling from him.

More so, when a tear escapes. Him grasping, pulling you close—an answer needed, it hanging on the tip of his tongue, but you answer before he says it:

“I really love you, Frankie.”

“Oh, querida,” he whispers into your hairline, your arms wrapping around his back as best as you can. “I love you too.”

as always, thank you to G for telling me I can do this. to A for telling me how hot this is and to @psychedelic-ink for giving me a mini-pep talk that I can totally do this - and here we have it 🧡

[moody-alcoholic]

Epilogue

It's over so here is my opportunity for a quick TED talk.

I do have idea's for some one shots in the future, so the fic won't be 'finished' but the main story is. I am also very much open to suggestions.

For now though this is the end for this fic. I want to say thank you to everyone who loved the story and followed it. To all the people who binge read it in one night. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I want to give a special thank you to @void-my-warranty for inspiring me through her work to bite the bullet and write a smut fic. If I was to dedicate this work to anyone it would be her. Thank you <3

I will write more Ghoap x reader in the future but for now I’m shifting my focus to my other work and the upcoming Johnny x Simon fic I have been working on. I always strive to improve with every work I put out there, so if you like this check out my other works they’re all a little different.

If you want more Ghoap stuff I will leave some recommendations here, there are so many talented authors out there who deserve way more love then me so go forth and enjoy!

Recommendations. A Dichotomy of Thought - REMEMBERWREN Ghoap x reader Harmless Fun - REMEMBERWREN Ghoap x reader Sundowning - losersimonriley Simon x Johnny Service Dog Johnny - void-my-warranty Ghost/Fem Reader/Soap ——————————

Summary: . Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe. CW: Mentions of suicide, grieving, mentions of death.

Previous parts - masterlist - Back to the start

Enjoy <3

6 months later

You’re surprised to see Johnny is waiting for you as you exit the hospital after your shift. You throw yourself in his arms.

“I thought you weren't back till Friday?” You say kissing him.

“Price got us on an earlier flight, thought I would come and surprise you.” He says wrapping his arm round your waist.

“Where’s Simon?” You ask looking around.

“Debrief, boring admin work, he’ll be back later.” Johnny says as you walk with him.

“That mean we’ve got the flat to ourselves?” You nudge him as he leads you to the car. He chuckles.

“How’s civilian life treating you?” He asks as you both get in. You quit the military a few weeks after what happened with Jack. Price managed to pull some strings and get you honourably discharged. You joined the reserves, it felt right, keeping just a little connection. You got your old job back at the hospital, the same one you and Chloe worked in. It was nice to see old faces, and new ones too.  

“You know, same old same old. We planted that tree for Chloe. You should have been there it was lovely.” You say suddenly feeling sad. You rallied with the people from A&E who worked with Chloe and you all sponsored a tree for the patients garden.

Her family gave you her ashes. They just turned up on your door one day. You had them made into a rock, then placed it under the tree. You don’t know if that’s what she would have wanted but it felt right. Johnny’s hand rests on your thigh. 

“What about you, you must have more interesting stories then the ones I have from working 12 hours in A&E.” You say smiling and pushing the tears away. 

“Ah yes, we’ve had some adventures I’ll give you that love.” Johnny says as you drive out the car park. You let him talk the whole way, it had been a week since you’d seen them and you were desperate to spend time with them again. When you make it into the flat Simon is there. 

“Thought you wouldn’t be back till late?” Johnny asked as you run into his arms.

“Price said he could handle it.” Simon says before you plant your lips on his.

“How’s civilian life?” Simon asks, you roll your eyes.

“They planted the tree for Chloe.” Johnny says from the kitchen.

“Yeah, how’d it go?” He asks, looking at you. 

“Good, I think she would have liked it.” You reply. Simon nods leading you over to the sofa as Johnny comes over with a bottle of wine and wine glasses. You cuddle up next to Simon as Johnny pours the glasses.

“What’s the latest with the Masons?” You ask. You hadn’t been keeping up with it but Simon and Johnny’s had, they’d been watching them like hawks.

“They’re in court on Monday, we’ll know more then.” Simon says. It took a month or so but finally people were formally arrested. Almost every family member who was in the military had been dishonourably discharged, and there were even talks of the Americans getting involved and also prosecuting the family.

You were warned you would need to go to court to testify, but you didn’t care. Jack killed himself, left a suicide note, seems the family was planning on pushing all the blame on him so they could try and get away with it. His note was pretty damming, it’s been big part of why they were able to get so many of his family.

They’ll lose their house, businesses everything. Most of them are looking at life in prison. You didn’t want to smile but it was good, justice and you would never have to worry about them again. You feel Johnny pull your legs up on him scooting over to sit closer to Simon. It reminded you of the first night you stayed in their flat. A bottle of wine and shitty police chaser shows.

“I reckon e’ll make it.” Johnny says sipping the wine. You turn to look at him smiling. 

“Don’t be silly Johnny.” Simon scoffs. You look up at Simon. 

"I bet he makes it." You smile looking back at the TV. Simon kisses the top of your head. You were glad they were back and back safe.

"I love you." You mumble as you hug Simon.

"Love you too." He says as Johnny's hand strokes your back. You look over at the TV. They caught the guy.

[chrissv4mp]

Ethan Landry x Reader Valentine’s Day smut where Ethan does the whole valentines proposal at school then dinner then smut?? (Ik Valentine’s Day was 2 days ago but still🌚)

YES YES (dw, i also forgot to post something on here for valentines day, so this'll be an apology🙏🙏)

ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: smut, strong language, you and ethan have a praise kink !! , dom!ethan, sub!reader, p in v, ethan has a hair pulling kink !!

-

tara held out her phone, recording you as you made your way down the hallway. each person you passed by gave you a single rose, and when you reached the end of the hallway, you saw your boyfriend.

he was holding a sign that read 'will you be my valentine?' in one hand, and a bouquet of roses in the other.

your face turned red, smiling as you ran into his arms, making him drop the sign.

"happy valentines day, baby." he muttered into your shoulder, inhaling your scent.

"i love you so much." you laughed, stepping back to capture his lips in a passionate kiss.

he grabbed your waist as he pulled you closer, still holding onto the roses tightly.

tara smiled, standing next to chad as she continued to record the cute scene.

"best boyfriend award goes to ethan," mindy joked, laughing.

.

-

.

"you're gonna love what i have planned." ethan said over the phone, driving to your house.

"what could you have done to make my day even better? that thing you did at school was so sweet, eth, you didn't need to do anything else." you smiled sweetly.

the brunette boy smiled wider, "that was just the beginning, baby."

you ran your hands down your sides, smoothing down the dress as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

"hurry and get out here, i'm sure you look beautiful." the boy whined, throwing his head back on the head-rest.

"okay, okay, i'm coming," you sighed, "love you." you said before hanging up.

you made sure to gather all your things before leaving through your front door and practically skipping to your boyfriends car. you couldn't wait to see what he had planned.

ethan quickly got out of his car, running to your side to open the door with a stupid smile on his face.

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him as you got into the car, "you're so corny."

"just being polite." he replied, winking at you teasingly before shutting the door and making his way back to the other side to get in.

the ride to the restaurant was filled with both comfortable silence and conversations full of nonsense, ethan's hand never leaving your inner thigh as he drove.

the gesture was meant to be only friendly, but you thought otherwise. plus, he would never pass up the chance to tease you just a bit.

"ethan--" before you could even finish your sentence, he cut you off, "we're almost there, i promise."

his fingers traced unrecognizable shapes on your thigh, making you bite your lip to stifle a whimper.

not long after, ethan finally picked up on the little movements you made and the quiet whines and whimpers you tried to hide.

"y/n, baby, are you alright?"

you just nodded in response, your hips involuntarily bucking into nothing.

ethan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his face as he figured out what was going in.

"am i turning you on? i haven't even done anything and you're already all worked up," he said in a low voice, removing his hand from your thigh as he placed it back on the steering wheel.

"make it through dinner and i'll reward you when we get home. that sounds good, yeah?"

you nodded, "yeah.

as the car finally approached the restaurant, you unbuckled your seatbelt, watching as your boyfriend carefully backed into a parking space.

he smiled sweetly at you, acting as if he hadn't said anything to you earlier.

ethan got out of the car, going to your side to let you out.

as the two of you walked into the restaurant, ethan kissed your forehead softly, looking into your eyes with lust.

"you're such a fucking tease, you know that?" you muttered quiet enough so that nobody around you heard.

all he did was roll his eyes before going up to the lady at the front.

"i have a reservation." he smiled.

"last name?" the lady asked, looking down at the small tablet in front of her.

"landry." he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

you stood beside him, practically eye-fucking him as he waited for the lady to lead you guys to your table. he was so patient, and you just wished he wasn't so that he would've fucked you before stepping in here.

"right this way, sir." the waiter smiled, grabbing to menus before leading you guys to a small booth in the back of the restaurant.

ethan thanked the lady before taking his seat across from you, grabbing the menu and looking over it.

you did the same, trying to distract yourself from the growing arousal between your legs.

a few minutes passed, and another waiter had gotten both of you drinks.

"what're you gonna get?" ethan spoke suddenly, closing the menu before placing it back on the table.

you shrugged, "dunno, there's so many options on here."

the boy scanned your features, admiring your entire being as you looked over the menu for the millionth time.

"'m probably gonna get the chicken alfredo." he said, watching as you wrapped your lips around the straw that was in your drink.

he cleared his throat, looking away from you as he felt his dick begin to strain against his pants.

you nodded, putting your menu down, "i'll get the same as you, eth."

.

-

.

dinner went by smoothly, and the second that the two of you got back to ethan's house, you were all over each other.

"can't wait to rip this dress off you, baby." he muttered against your lips, locking his bedroom door before pushing you against it.

you chuckled at his eagerness as you pulled back, palming him through his jeans, "and i can't wait to fuck you."

the boy instantly fell apart as your hand went into his boxers and began to stroke his length, groaning as he began to mark your neck and jawline.

ethan grabbed your hips, pulling your hand out of his pants before bringing you to his bed and laying you down on it.

you watched as he undid his jeans, kicking them off his ankles along with his boxers.

you bit your lip as you watched his dick stand prominently against his stomach.

he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere around the room before crawling on top of you to help you with your dress.

"you'd look even prettier without the dress." he said, tugging at the red fabric.

"why don't you take it off me, then?" you asked, watching as ethan quickly crawled off you.

you sat up, grabbing the dress from the bottom before pulling it up over your legs.

ethan was quick to help you get it off entirely, leaving it on the floor of his bedroom before almost ripping your bra off your body.

you smirked at his eagerness before your eyes scanned his body, not being able to take your gaze away from his lust-filled eyes.

"so pretty.." he muttered, crawling back on top of you as he looping his finger in the waistband of your panties.

his free hand went to your chest, twisting your nipple between his thumb and index finger, listening to the pretty noises that came from your mouth.

he lowered his head to meet your breasts, taking your other nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. he hummed against your skin, hearing his name falling from your swollen lips.

"so fuckin' good with your mouth. shit," you moaned, tugging on his hair and hearing him whimper.

the hand that was in your panties earlier was now cupping your pussy. his fingers ran through your folds, gathering the wetness that was there earlier all over his hand.

"so, so wet." he muttered, his lips leaving your breast before trapping you in a heated kiss.

you couldn't help the loud, breathy moans that escaped your throat, and ethan took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth.

his fingers dipped into your pussy, and you couldn't help but tug on his hair harder.

you pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva going from his lips to yours.

"need you, baby. need you so fucking bad." you whimpered, feeling his thumb trace tight circles on your clit.

the brunette boy groaned at your begging, and he couldn't help but rip your panties right off your body.

you gasped, only getting more turned on by his antics.

ethan quickly threw the ripped fabric on the floor, grabbing hold of his cock before the tip through your folds.

he couldn't help but whine at the small amount of pleasure, his eyes shut as he took in a shaky breath.

"holy fuck." he groaned, looking up at you for permission to push all the way in.

you shuddered as he ran his tip over your clit, and then you nodded eagerly.

the boy wasted no time in slamming his dick inside of your pussy, eliciting a throaty moan from you and himself.

his breathing became erratic as he began pounding into you, hiding his face in your neck as he moaned and whimpered.

"fuck, you're so tight. oh my god," he whined, his hand going to play with your clit once more.

you moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around him as your nails dug into his back, only adding to the pleasure he felt.

"yes, fuck, don't stop, eth." you said in between gasps, feeling him pick up his pace as he slammed his dick into you harder.

soon enough, you felt your stomach begin to tighten, and you let out a guttural moan that was sure to be heard by your boyfriends neighbors.

"right there, fuck yes!" you said, your hand going back into his hair.

ethan was close as well, and you couldn't help but come closer just by hearing his whines.

the two of you came together with a moan, and ethan helped you ride out your high before coming to a halt.

he pulled out, laying next to you on his bed as he moved his curls off his sweaty forehead.

"happy valentines day." he muttered with a smile.

[sturniozo]

In The Shadows I

masterlist

Most people that work for their father’s company have no choice, they’re thrown into it against their will. I was no different. Ever since I learned what my father really did for a living he had decided it would be what I do to. And I do it well. I’ve been training since I was 16. Now, 6 years later I’m the greatest assassin his company has ever produced.

My father runs a business, a hit man business. Some people are rich enough to hire people like us, people like me. We don’t just kill, we erase. We make people suffer and we make them silenced. Some people hire us just to investigate, gather information on an enemy.

You wouldn’t believe the amount of people that have wanted others dead. Exes wanting revenge, spouses wanting to collect life insurance, adult children sick of their parents. Some of their reasoning isn’t even good, but hey, moneys money right?

The cash isn’t even why I do it. It’s the thrill. Being undercover, being sneaky, solving things people had made difficult because they thought they were smart enough to hide them.

Everything I do, I do for the thrill. That rush of adrenaline that I’ve yet to let anyone who cares about me know about. Most assassins are like me though. No one really does it for the money. That’s just a bonus.

My father’s the only one who knows what I do. He made me what I am today. A killer. Not even my boyfriend of two years knows. He thinks I’m a planner at a company that sells stocks. That’s my cover. Thats my lie.

My eyes snap open as I hear my alarm go off. I dig under my pillow for my phone and shut off the alarm. I set my phone down on the night stand and rub my eyes. 5 am. I look over to my side and see my sleeping boyfriend, Luke. No doubt he went to bed not even an hour ago. He spends most nights staying up all night playing video games.

I sit up in bed and yawn. I get up and make my way to my bathroom. I take a quick shower before leaving to my usual coffee shop for breakfast.

The barista hands me my usual order with a smile. I’m used to seeing her here almost every day. Her usual days off are Wednesday and Friday. I sip on my coffee as I head back to my car. The clock on the console reads 6:53 am. I set the coffee down in the cup holder and drive off to the building I spend so many days in during my childhood, before I knew what it held.

I park in my usual spot, right next to my father’s car. I get out the car with my purse and my coffee, heading to the building entrance. I nod at Bobbie, the security girl, as I swipe my access card. It grants me access to the building and I head straight to my father’s office as I do every morning.

“Ah, good morning my dear.” My dad says as he gets out of his chair and walks to me for a hug.

“Good morning, Dad.” I say as I hug him back tightly.

He pulls away and smiles at me. “What do you have for me today?” He asks.

I dig through my purse and find a little paper bag. I hand it to him. “Open it.” I say while biting my lip to contain my excitement.

My father smiles at me and opens the little paper bag, letting a ring fall out onto his hand. “24 karat diamond?” He asks as he examines it.

“Yep. Fresh off the finger of a very unlucky divorcé.” I tell him.

“Ah, so this is the proof of contract completion for that Mrs. Aubrey then?”

“Ms. Aubrey.” I correct. “And yes, her ex husband won’t be bothering her or her children anymore.”

“That’s a good girl, I knew I could count on you.” My father smiles and puts the ring back in its paper bag. “I’ll have it delivered to her tonight, expect your payment in full my tomorrow morning dear.” He sits back down in his chair.

I sit down in the seat in front of his desk. “That’s my last contract, I’m officially out of running orders.” I say with a laugh.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve got something for you.” My dad smiles as he begins typing away at his computer.

“What is it?” I ask, leaning in.

“I’ll tell you in a bit, go on back to your office dear.”

“Why wait?”

“There’s more than just you and I for this contract, it’s a big one.”

I smile brightly. My father’s finally giving me a big important contract for my own. “All right. Just call my office when you’re ready for me, Dad.” I say with a smile as I get up from the seat.

“I’ll see you in a bit, dear.” He says as he waves me off.

I walk out of his office and to the elevator. My father’s office is on the top floor, while mine is about seven floors below that, a bit more than 2/3 of the way up the whole building. I walk out of the elevator and see the cubicles. I’m glad I got to skip that part.

I walk down the cleared walkway to my office, but am stopped when someone waves me over.

Casey. She started here as an information analyst just over a year ago. Now she profiles the subjects of our contracts. She’s the one who decides which assassin does what job.

“Hey, Casey.” I rest my arms over her cubicle.

“So, your new contact.” She smiles at me.

“I take it you chose me?” I laugh.

“No, this one came straight from the big man, your dad.” She says.

“Ah, okay. So you have no idea what it is then?” I ask.

“Nope.” She shakes her head.

“Then what did you call me over for?” I ask with a laugh.

“To gossip, duh! What else?” She laughs.

“I’m not one to gossip, Casey, you know that.” I say as I begin to walk away.

“I just wondered if you heard anything about the new guy.” She shrugs.

I turn back to her. “New guy?” I ask.

“He’s on loan from another industry. Apparently he’s their best assassin. Might even be right up there with your skill.” She chuckles.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Well, I didn’t get a name, but he’s handsome. I snuck a peak at his photo in his file when I was in your dad’s office yesterday.” She smirks. “He’s gorgeous, like a god!” She whispers.

I laugh. “He’s a trained killer?”

She nods. “His file was definitely an assassin file.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be spreading this around. Idle gossip isn’t what people come here for.” I say before walking into my office.

I shut the door behind me and let out a breath. I walk to my desk and set down my now half drunk coffee and my purse. I rub my temple and check the time on my phone. 8:14 am.

I groan and lay my head down in my arms on my desk. No contracts, no one to research or study. Nothing. I sigh and start scrolling aimlessly on my phone.

I get bored fast and see my phone down on my desk. I run my fingers over my face and bounce my knee up and down. The agony and boredom is killing me.

I shake my head and begin searching through my drawers, taking everything out and organizing everything. Within an hour I have everything in my office rearranged. I step back and look at it all, smiling.

I turn around and look out the glass wall of my office. Anyone who looked in here would think I was crazy. I just tore apart my entire office and rearranged it all in an hour, just out of boredom.

Staring out the glass I see someone who makes my breath hitch. Matt Sturniolo. Matt worked at this company years ago. He was one of my father’s greatest assassins. He even taught me most of my tricks. But that all changed when Matt betrayed me.

The call finally comes. My father telling me it’s time to go back up to his office. I have a weird feeling in my stomach, a feeling Matt has something to do with it.

I make my way to the elevator and go back up to my father’s office. I walk out of the elevator and stop when I see him. Matt standing in my father’s office. Just talking with him.

I gather my courage and walk into his office, ignoring Matt completely. “Got the call,” I say to my dad. “What’s the contract?”

“Y/n, you know Matt Sturniolo.” My dad gestures to Matt. I side eye him before looking back at my dad.

“Yes, I remember him.” I mumble.

“He’s your partner for this contract.”

My jaw drops. “He- what?” Matt laughs and I turn to glare at him. “What’s so funny?” I ask him.

“Just you.” Matt says. “You’re like a high school girl with a grudge.”

I glare at him before turning back to my dad. “There’s got to be someone else, or I could just do it myself!” I tell him.

“No, you two are the best assassins I’ve ever met, the best trained killers, the best investigators, the best of the best. I need both of you for this.” My father says in a demanding tone.

“What’s the contract?” Matt asks.

“Finley Wilson.” My father stands up and hands both Matt and me a folder. “Collector of rare curios. He’s not the target though, your job is to befriend him. Pose as a couple in search of useless art and befriend Wilson. Find out who he cares about the most.”

I stare at my father. “Us? A couple?” I point between Matt and myself.

“I won’t hear any of your complaining.” My dad says. “This is an important contact, I want reports every night. Your flight leaves tomorrow afternoon, I suggest you be ready then, understand?” My father says sternly.

I nod and keep my mouth closed.

“Good. Don’t worry, I’ll have your things for your cover sent with you. You’ll need to make a believable couple, and Wilson will have to believe you’re a rich couple looking to buy his curios. That is important. You need him to believe this cover. He’s paranoid, it won’t be easy.”

Matt closer the folder and holds it under his arm. “Where are we going?” He asks.

“Switzerland.”

TAGS: @sturniolopookie @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer

[twoheartedfool]

Wedding Crasher

Part 1

Jake Seresin x Reader

I’ve been reading so many good Top Gun: Maverick fics recently I couldn’t help but join in. Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol Part 2

……

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“Hey, watch it!”

With a melodic apology over your shoulder, the sound of high heels hitting pavement not once stopping, you practically threw yourself around the corner. The church was finally in view. Cars were lined up and down the street. People chatting and laughed while walking up the steps. People outside meant you weren’t too late.

“Thank God,” you heaved a sigh before picking up your speed again.

Amelia nervously paced the foyer of the church, glancing out the doors every now and then. She caught the attention of some older relatives and tensely chuckled when they looked curiously at the two bouquets she held.

She almost let out a squeal when she finally saw her cousin bounding up the steps. She shouted your name before you could stumble into the older couple.

“Amelia! Oh my God!” You shouted. You placed a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Is that mine?”

“Yes, now come on.”

The teenager quickly led you through the winding hallways of the church, dodging any guests or workers, until you reached a door with a very lavish “Bridal Suite” sign.

It took no more than 3 seconds before you heard your name at an ungodly decimal.

“Jesus, Cara,” you winced at your baby sister. Your grandmother promptly swatted at you before pointing at a very old, very ominous statue of Jesus Christ. You mouthed a quick sorry before shuffling over to your sister.

“Oh, you look beautiful!”

“You’re late.”

“I am not. I was here an hour ago but then we needed ice and then I couldn’t find parking,” you said, hoping your babbling wasn’t too much.

“Uh-huh,” Cara muttered, reaching up to pull a leaf out of your hair.

When Cara turned to look back into the mirror, you shot a glance over Amelia. She couldn’t have warned you about the leaf? She caught your eye but immediately feigned someone calling her name and twirled around.

Truth was, you were very late. You got ready on time but FaceTiming with Rooster while trying to accomplish anything never worked out well. But it was so hard not to gush about finally being in the same city as your best friend again. The not being able to find parking thing, however, was very much true.

Nonetheless, using unpacking as an excuse to not get ready with all the girls and being late were plenty reason to be on Cara’s shit list. Then again, you were probably the origin story of Cara’s shit list ever since you were both little.

“Well, at least you’re not a total mess,” she muttered, lips spread taught while she swiped a tissue at stray lipstick.

“Thank you?” You fidget with the hem of your satin blue dress. Cara’s eyes follow the movement, looking up and down.

“You know that Henry’s friends from the Navy are going to be here tonight. They’re dying to meet you.”

You grumbled. “Swell.”

A very exasperated sigh left Cara. “(Y/N).”

“Okay, fine. I will make small talk, but I promise nothing.”

“It’s a true wonder how you and Bradley are friends.”

You didn’t want to correct her that being in the Navy wasn’t the issue. It was being friends with Henry. But this was Cara’s wedding day and anyone brave enough to mess with that would a receive an immediate ticket to the grave.

So, you put on a smile and smoothed out your hair and put on the best god damn show you could muster.

And it almost went without fault.

You were an absolute bundle of nerves by the time dancing at the reception started. Having to walk down the aisle with Henry’s best friend, Aaron, had been predetermined but you hated it nonetheless. Every time you saw him, he had a tendency to get handsy.

“Looking good, Benjamin,” he said lowly, offering his arm.

“Bite me, Marksman,” you smiled brightly but taking his arm nonetheless and readjusting your bouquet.

“I keep trying to. You keep shutting me down.”

You couldn’t even get a break in your own car. The rest of bridesmaids demanded you all ride over to the reception area together. Amelia had to keep subtly reminding you in the limo that Cara would be pissed if you bit all your nail polish off.

Then your cheeks hurt from all the fake smiling you had to do at dinner, shoved between two of Cara’s school friends at the bridesmaid table.

“Wait, where are you going?” You had hastily asked Amelia as she headed towards a different table.

“To sit with my mom?”

“But you’re a bridesmaid,” you gritted. You felt incredibly lame begging a teenager to hang out with you but you couldn’t care less when a squeal came from the bridesmaid table. Baby pictures were obviously being shared.

“Cara said I didn’t have to sit up there with you guys.”

“What?!”

“I’m a kid!”

“So am I!”

“You’re like 30!” She called over her shoulder, already walking away.

“Not yet!”

You already felt like the black sheep growing up. Once Cara was born, she took the role of golden star child. Sometimes it was relief, other times it was incredibly lonely. Now, these family members you considered strangers couldn’t seem to get enough of you. All of the questions about why you were back in town and what you were doing with your life were making your head spin. You’d lost count how many baby pictures and brand new home listings you had seen.

You had survived dinner well enough. Unfortunately that could not be said said for your nail polish. You fidgeted with your bare thumb as a middle aged blonde woman beamed up at you. She blocked your way to the bar that you made a dash for during the awkward time between dinner and dancing. Her name left your brain immediately after she told it to you, and she didn’t seem to notice your mindless nodding.

“It must be so strange seeing your little sister up at the alter. I really thought it would have been you first!” The woman in front of you laughed loudly. Your fried brain had been completely empty of charming retorts for a while now and could only muster up a wistful chuckle. It wasn’t until you realized your Aunt Penny had sauntered over to your side did realize you weren’t even taking full breaths.

“Hi, Cheryl,” she greeted. Cheryl. Cara’s childhood piano teacher? No, your dad’s colleague’s wife? “Do you mind if I steal her for just one moment?”

You were already being spun around before you registered Cheryl’s answer. Penny’s hand caught yours behind your back and you felt your fingers bending over cold steel. You relaxed even further when Penny chuckled in your ear.

“Take a break outside. I will cover for you.”

“Did you know you’re my favorite aunt?”

Her kind eyes crinkled in amusement. “I’m your only aunt.”

“And you’re going to be the coolest, most wonderful, best boss.”

She let out a full belly laugh before pinching your sides. “Go before I regret all of my decisions, please.”

With a smirk, you gave a quick salute and practically skipped over to the doors leading to the patio area.

Your lungs filled with fresh air as you leaned your full body weight on the railing. The venue was beautiful, you admitted. A perfect view of ocean waves spread before you. You let another sigh before pressing the metal of Aunt Penny’s flask to your lips. The taste of sweet whiskey almost made you moan. You were not going to survive this night with the wine and beer only bar they had set up.

“Got any more of those?”

The flask almost fell from your grasp, startled by the smooth drawl appearing from behind you.

Lounging on against the wall on a bench you hadn’t noticed, a handsome blonde chuckled up at you. He looked vaguely familiar but you couldn’t recall seeing him when you walked down the aisle or at dinner.

He slowly rose, buttoning his suit jacket, and strolled over to the railing. You immediately clocked his tall stance. Confidence was oozing out of him. Your first instinct was to throw your wall up but when his eyes met yours, you saw a gentleness that slowly relaxed your shoulders.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, darling.”

You were still staring at him, racking your brain on a name or relation. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you and you swallowed hard when a feeling of warmth flushed your cheeks. Your body and brain were fighting with each other incredibly hard. Brain signals were practically screaming to run but your feet shuffled a step towards him like a magnet.

He held your gaze with a bemused glint as he nodded once again to the flask. You lifted it to him before casually leaning your elbow on the wood rail, forcing your body to relax and put some distance between you. Your brain won this round.

“We’re not related are we?”

The whiskey almost shot out his nose.

“God, I hope not,” he said, trying to recover from his coughing fit. It wasn’t meant to come out so brash, but as the setting sun perfectly hit your hair and shadowed your profile, he couldn’t remember the last time he has seen someone so beautiful. It would be God’s sick joke if she was snatched away from him that quickly.

“Friend of Henry’s?” You tilted your head innocently.

“Who?” Judging by the way your brows shot up, that was the wrong response. “I mean, yea, of course. Sort of. We’re not super close.”

Biting down a laugh, you reached for the flask again. You shook your head and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. He chuckled lightly, mostly to himself, and cursed himself for becoming a bumbling idiot under her gaze.

“You have no idea who he is, do you?”

You wondered for a split moment if he was going to try again, but smiled brightly when he stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed.

“No. No, ma’am. I do not.”

“Oh my God,” he watched as your lips curled into a sly grin. “Are you crashing?”

“I’ll have you know I am someone’s plus one.”

“What’s their name?”

“…John.”

“John?”

“Okay, I am the plus one of someone else’s plus one.”

What was going on with him? He couldn’t come up with a better name than John? He was contemplating already cutting his losses and going to find Coyote, the real plus one of this wedding. But when you let out a marvelous, full laugh, he grinned and leaned in a little closer.

“So you’re a plus two?”

“I could be your plus one.”

You hid your surprise behind another sip of whiskey and rolled your eyes.

“No can do.”

From inside, someone was testing the microphone and calling for all the wedding party. The first dance was about to begin. You let out a soft sigh and screwed the flask lid tightly. Would you be absolutely insane if you wanted to stay out on the patio with a stranger than celebrate your sister’s marriage?

“That’s my cue,” you muttered on your way to the door.

”You’re not the bride are you?”

“God, I hope not,” you winked over your shoulder. The door shut quietly behind you and the smile spread across your face was a lot less fake this time around.

[alwaysjustmina]

Whispers of Rain

Chapter 5 - When I Open My Eyes To The Future

(beware the tags please on AO3)

Thank you @kamonart for this beautiful drawing for this story! Thank you to @midnight-moth and @papaslittlesunshine for betaing for me!

When Dew exited the vehicle, held close to Ifrit’s side, he let his mind drift further.  As the car drove away, it brought his thoughts back to the day on tour he taught Rain how to drive.

They hadn’t been out long on tour, maybe a couple of weeks, when they got a day off.  Rain had wanted to see some sights, spend some time with Dew and Dew wouldn’t, couldn’t, deny Rain anything.  He rented a car and they met up away from the group for their day together.  They hadn’t slept together yet, but the need was there to feel the other's body pressed tight next to each other.  Neither were sure what they were waiting for, but that the time just wasn’t right yet. 

Rain had become obsessed with seeing Disneyland after one of the other band members made a comment that he reminded them of Bambi, probably from him tripping at his first show on stage.  He watched the movie and then moved on to all the other Disney movies, quickly becoming obsessed with childlike wonder for the simple story lines and happy endings.  When he found out there was a theme park surrounding these movies he became increasingly preoccupied to figure out a way to see it.  When they learned they would have an off day in LA it was determined this is what they were doing.

They left early in the morning to go to the park,  Dew picking up Rain on a side street outside the hotel to not arouse suspicion where they were sneaking off to together.  As soon as Rain slid into the passenger seat, Dew leaned across the seat to capture his lips in a heated kiss, not breaking apart until he heard a horn honking that wanted him to move his car.  Laughing at their predicament, they disentangled from each other, Rain gasping for breath to steady his accelerated heart beat that seemed to happen every time he was near Dew.  Rain, not Dew, reached over for Dew’s hand this time, putting his hand on his leg, waiting for when Dew would place his heated palm over his.  Rain didn’t need to wait long, as soon as Dew found himself on a freeway he took his right hand off the wheel and grasped Rain’s hand tightly,  quickly flipping it over to run his index finger along his upturned palm tracing the deep lines indenting his hand.  Their hands always emulated what they wished their bodies were doing.  He brought his palm to his mouth to place the lightest kiss along it.  

Rain found himself tracing Dew’s lip as he kissed his palm, they were so soft and supple from their earlier kisses.  As he traced, Dew’s lips turned into a small smile and then with a mischievous smirk he snapped his teeth at Rain’s finger, biting the tip of it softly between his teeth.  He laughed when he heard Rain’s giggle in the seat next to him.  

“Dew,”  Rain pouted, mockingly.

“Yes?”  He managed to get out between the finger he still had in the vice-like grip between his teeth.

Rain sighed, taking his other fingers that weren’t trapped and booped his nose before adding another finger to trace his lips again.

“Am I going to get my finger back?”

“Nope, mine.”

Rain leaned over from his seat, bringing his lips close to Dew’s ear before running his tongue along the edge, whispering, “Yes, I am yours.”

Dew gasped, not loosening the grip.

When Rain saw his ministration didn’t change Dew’s stance on his finger he continued to whisper, “You are very good at sucking, aren’t you?”

Bingo!

Read the rest on AO3

[glittter-vamp]

CHAPTER 9

Joe Burrow x Bisexual OC.

Warnings: 18+MDNI. Mention Of Death & Grief. Emotional Intimacy pretty much at 100 and smut-ish themes. Homophobia. Angsty yet Fluffy. Pretty heavy chapter overall.

Word Count: 3.4k

"Thank you for shopping with us, have a great day!" Val smiles at a customer that was in the store while handing them their shopping bag. It was Sunday which she usually didn't come in for but Elsa had went a little too hard at the Pride parade the day prior and Dani was off. So, it was just her and Kade in the store today making things happen. 

"Almost time to close, what a weekend!" Kade sighs moving a box of hangers. 

"It was pretty crazy, I guess since we closed yesterday for the parade people came today instead." Val says organizing a rack of shirts.

"I'm so glad I'm off for the next two days, I'm drinking a whole bottle of wine by myself tonight to destress." Kade lets out a breath. 

"You and me both." Val smiles. Them two make it through the last work hour with only one other customer coming in. Cleaning up quickly, they make it out of the store by 4:50 and in their cars to go home. Since it was Sunday evening the traffic wasn't so bad but living in a city meant it was still there regardless. As Val drove home she got a call from Joe. She had talked to him here and there, all through text after that argument they had. 

"Hello?" Val answers on the car Bluetooth. 

"Hey...are you out of work?" Joe asks. 

"I am. Why?" Val asks wondering why. 

"Would you mind stopping by the house today? Something came for you at the house." Joe says sounding just as confused as she was hearing that. 

"Uh, what do you mean something came for me...to your house? I've never your given address for anything to anyone." Val questions. 

"I'm just confused as you about it are but it's addressed to you, it's a letter." He says. 

"Does it seems like junk mail or something? That's so weird..." She asks as she drives. 

"No, it's hand written from within the state. Say's its from someone named Sabrina Farley." Joe responds back, Val's heart dropping hearing that. 

"Are you sure!?" Val asks trying to remain her cool. 

"That's what it says, I can drop it off during the week if you're busy--

"No, I'll come get it now. I'm in the car driving anyway." Val says. 

"Alright, you can let your self in. I have to rest up my leg. My knee has been feeling weird." Joe says. 

"Do you need anything?" Val asks. 

"Nah I'm good, but thanks. I appreciate that." Joe yawns. They hang up soon after and Val makes her way to Joe's.

***************************************

Pulling up to his house she parks in the driveway and lets her self in like he told her too. She could hear the tv, Joe was of course was watching some alien documentary like usual. Walking to the living room she see's Joe laying on his couch icing his knee. 

"So, what'd you do to your knee?" Val speaks up startling Joe and making her laugh. 

"I didn't hear you come in... but I think I went to hard in the gym yesterday." He shrugs looking at his leg,

"Better chill before everyone gets on your ass or you injure yourself again." Val shakes her head. 

"I know..." Joe sighs. 

"So about the letter?" Val asks awkwardly. 

"Oh yeah, here!" Joe reaches over and grabs the letter that was sitting beside the remote. 

"Here you go, I didn't open it or anything." He says handing her the white envelope. Val reads the name and she starts to feel uneasy about it. 

"I really have no idea how this person got your address. I'm real sorry this came here, that's super invasive." Val bites her lip looking at Joe. 

"It's alright. Do you know who that person is though?" Joe asks and she nods yes. 

"My older sister. Since I cut off contact from the family , they haven't had my number or address except for the twins who I actually haven't heard from in months." Val shakes her head. 

"Do you think it's something serious?" Joe asks sitting up, intrigued by what that letter held. 

"Must be if they sent it to your house and not mine, my store or any of my other friends houses." Val says ripping the letter open. 

Val starts reading the letter which was starting off first by apologizing being sent to Joe's house but that they couldn't find her address anywhere online and was scared that if it got sent to the store it would end up in someone else's business mailbox instead. Which Val found very weird but she continued reading. As she read the next line her heart sunk and felt her eyes water. 

"I hate to inform you that dad has been involved in a car accident two weeks prior from when I'm writing this. He doesn't seem to be progressing at all, therefore mom is going to make the hard decision to take him off life support tomorrow. Though, we felt the need to tell you, we ask that you do not come to the funereal nor contact any of us. We've seen you in the tabloids and still don't approve of your life choices and out of respect to god, the church, the family and most importantly dad it's best if you don't come. We don't need any shameful people around us during this hard time or someone to take the attention away from dad." 

"Val...Hey, Hey...what's going on? Breathe." Joe says to her as he runs up to her and catches her as she falls to her knees at the news she just read. Val lets out a sob as Joe tries to console her and get her seated on the couch. Not being able to barely breathe let alone talk, she hands the letter to Joe and he reads it keeping one hand on Val and rubbing her back as she cries. 

"I'm so sorry Val. This is isn't the way they should've told you." Joe says hugging her tight and kiss her head as she cries. 

"I probably already missed his funeral since this was sent a week ago. Why would they do that?" She sniffles shaking her head. 

"If you did, that's entirely their fault. They know what they were doing sending this letter, they could of called, sent this to your actual house or business or even gone to your store in person...instead they sent it to my house not even knowing if it would get to you two weeks after your fathers accident in which they didn't contact you. This was malicious on their part, you did nothing wrong." Joe says feeling nothing but anger over this situation for Val. He couldn't believe they would treat her this way but it became clear why Val separated herself from them.

"I-I should go home. I'm sorry for breaking down like this here. I should of opened that letter at home or something." Val says quickly getting up and wiping her tears, desperately trying to get herself together. 

"What?! No--Val, you're not driving while you're emotions are hitting you like this. You're still processing this." Joe says shaking his head and Val sighs. 

"I just know things aren't okay between us and going through this here--

"That's not important right now, what's important is that you stay here and not get behind the wheel while you're crying. I'm going to get you water, please just stay here and take a breath." Joe says sitting her down again and she just nods beginning to cry again. Val didn't couldn't believe that letter. Still processing everything from her fathers accident to him being taken off life support to her family asking her not to come to the funeral because of who she was was just something she couldn't believe but hurt like hell. It proved that she was yet not healed from her past with her family.

"Here." Joe says coming back with a water bottle. Val takes it and takes a few sips. 

"Is there anything I can do?" Joe asks sitting next to her. 

"Get me a time machine so I could tell my parents not to have me and spare everyone the disappointment that I am." Val sighs wiping her tears. 

"Don't say that. Just because they have a problem with who you are doesn't mean you don't have people around you that love and support you. Plus, you've basically built your own family, you have the girls, Mateo, Kade and Elsa...Me and my family." Joe says hesitating on that last part. 

"I don't even know how your family views me right now so I wouldn't count them in there." Val shakes her head. 

" They haven't said anything to me about it so...well my mom obviously asked about what was going on cause she knows we're together but she didn't comment on anything else. My dad is never one to get into my personal relationships so..." Joe shakes his head. 

"Still doesn't mean anything." Val mutters. 

"Why don't I draw you a nice bath? I'll go pick up some food in the meantime while you soak." Joe says patting her knee. 

"You don't have to do that." Val shakes her head. 

"You need it, c'mon." Joe slowly pulls Val off the couch and they make their way upstairs letting the letter on the couch. 

"You still have clothes in your drawer, I haven't touched them." Joe says softly as they enter his room. 

"Thanks." Val sniffles heading over to where she always kept her clothes.

Joe headed to the bathroom and filled up the tub for her while she chose some clothes. Her mind was having a million different thoughts about what's happened. Though she was heartbroken over the news of her dad she was also incredibly angry at how it was handled. She couldn't stand the way her family has treated her since she came out in college. Val makes her way to the bathroom where Joe was making sure the water was a perfect temperature and the tub was getting filled up. 

"You can get in while it fills it takes a bit, did you need anything else? I haven't restocked on your wine but I can get you something else..." Joe asks as Val set her clothes down on the counter. 

"I think this moment calls for one of your vodka tonics." Val smiles. 

"Woah...I haven't heard those words since you opened up Pixies." Joe says making her chuckle. 

"I know it's a dangerous thing to say but I really need it." Val sighs. 

"You're wish is my command." Joe smiles leaving the bathroom. Val undresses and realizes she still has the markings from Summer on her body. Shaking her head and setting that aside she steps into the warm bath that smelled like lavender. Val feels herself relax into the semi filled tub and soon enough Joe comes back with her drink. 

"Here." Joe smiles handing her the drink. 

"Thanks." She smiles back taking a sip of the ridiculously strong drink. 

"Jeez, did you put any club soda in that?" Val shudders as the liquor runs through her body and sort of gives her a shock. 

"You knew what you were asking for. I put a lot of ice so just let it water down a bit." Joe says squatting down to her level and turning the water off for her. There wasn't many bubbles in the tub so Val saw Joe's eyes lingering on her body thought the soapy water. 

"What did you want to eat?" Joe asks clearing his throat. 

"It's Sunday evening so everything closes pretty early...whatever is open is fine. No healthy stuff though, I need good savory comfort food."  

"I'll be back, call me if anything. Make yourself at home." Joe says giving Val a gentle kiss on the head before leaving. It felt nice for Val to have Joe there for her. This was one of the things she couldn't complain about when it came to him. He was always there for Val when she needed him the most with no questions asked. Relaxing in the hot bath and downing the drink she eventually gets out and takes a quick shower being one of those people that can't just take a bath first. 

After her shower, drying off and draining the tub, she gets dressed and heads downstairs taking the glass that was now empty. As she washed her cup, Joe comes in with the bags of food.

 "So I got us sushi, and I stopped to get us ice cream. Hope that's okay!" Joe says smiling at Val. 

"That sounds really great. Thank you." Val smiles back. 

"We can put on a movie or whatever you want." Joe says setting the bags down to put the ice cream in the freezer.

"Sure." Val nods. She grabs water for them both from the fridge and make their way to the living room. 

"So, what do you want to watch?" Joe asks after they settle on the couch with the food. 

"Um, something funny I guess." she shrugs taking a bite of the spicy shrimp tempura roll. Joe turns on Superbad.

"I saw that you went the pride parade, how was that?" Joe asks failing miserably to use his chopsticks like usual making val laugh. 

"It was fun. Everyone had a goodtime." Val nods. 

"I saw that Summer went...you guys were posting on instagram" Joe says. Val knew she was going hear something about about her come from Joe eventually. 

"She was." Val says nods eyeing Joe. The last thing she wanted right now was to get in an argument with Joe about Summer again after what she just learned. Her emotions were way to high right now for that and she knew it.

"Is she...at least making you happy?" He asks softly and Val sighs. 

"Joe, I really don't need this right now." Val rolls her eyes.

"I'm not mad or trying to start anything. I just want to know she's at least treating you right given your history with her and having your own complaints with me" Joe says, he seemed genuine. 

"We only messed around once after that fight we had, we're not dating though and she's been fine to me. No drama. There, happy?" Val answers truthfully. 

"Very." Joe smirks which annoyed Val. 

"How about you? Any girls you've brought back here and shown them what a night with America's QB heartthrob is like?" Val asks trying to annoy him.

"Nope. Those nights are reserved for you." Joe smirks. 

"and Sofia the baddie ig model." Val nods popping another piece of sushi into her mouth pretending she didn't see Joe's annoyed face when she said that. 

"Okay...maybe I see how asking about Summer and throwing her in your face could be annoying." Joe says making Val snort. 

"But, since we're on the topic of girls and I still have my list of questions of you..." Joe trails off, Val sighing preparing for what's about to come out of his mouth next.

"Is it true that you guys can last for hours during sex? How is that even possible? How come you don't last with me that long?" Joe asks making Val almost choke on her food. 

"We technically can...but it's courtesy of the strap and we take breaks and then go back and forth through the night until we can't anymore and...I have no problem lasting that long but you on the other hand..." Val sips her drink and Joe looks in complete shock. 

"If that's the case...why the hell are you dating men? Let alone me." Joe mutters that last part. 

"Because that's how bisexuality works, I like all genders...and what do you mean let alone you? You're the only guy I've been with that actually gives a fuck about getting me off every time we have sex." Val snorts. 

"Do you have one?" Joe asks as he eats. 

"A what?" She asks confused. 

"A...strap or whatever it is you guys call it." Joe clears his throat which made Val laugh at his awkwardness. 

"I think... I have my harness somewhere at my condo, as for the toy itself...I have to get a new one." Val nods. 

"I saw that they had strapless ones." Joe nods and Val does a double take towards him hearing that. 

"Have you...been researching lesbian stuff!?" Val says rather loudly and clearly embarrassing Joe seeing his face turn a light shade of pink. 

"And by researching I know it's just porn." Val teases him. 

"No. I've actually been on educational websites for your information. I was wondering about the stereotypes. " Joe defends himself. Val thought it was actually very cute that Joe was educating himself about stuff. Most men would just ask when the threesome was happening and call it day.  

"Can I ask if you have a preference? Like do you prefer having sex with women or more with men?" Joe asks. 

"Overall, I say that I wouldn't. But there's certain things that I appreciate about both that's different." Val admits. 

"Like what?" 

"Well with girls I like the softness of it, the foreplay is usually on another level and the after care is really nice too. Plus there's a different sense of comfortability with women knowing they have the same parts as I do and know how are bodies are naturally. Also it's a plus that they're more on top of stuff like their status and there's no risk of pregnancy. " Val says and Joe nods. 

"And with men?" Joe asks seeming to be nervous to ask about it. 

"Well, my prior experiences with men were all college guys so I'm not gonna go there but with you specifically... I like how strong you are with me and assertive you are. Also getting to actually...feel you inside me is something I can only experience with women to a certain extent. Plus moans from any gender are hot but the list goes on for both, I just like what I like. There's really no competition here, we at least between you and any other woman because I've heard of plenty hook up stories from Gen with guys"  Val shrugs making Joe chuckle.

"Thank you for talking to me about this stuff...I know it's weird of me to ask this stuff." Joe says sheepishly. 

"Like I said before, if it's in good faith and you're being genuine...I don't have anything to hide. I appreciate you being respectful about it and not with stereotypical things like other guys would probably do." Val smiles.

 They both finish their meal and start paying attention to the movie that was already a good chunk through it. They eat their ice creams after finishing the dinner, Val still thinking of her dad and family, still figuring out how to navigate this situation from here. 

"You can take my room... I'll sleep in the guest room. Give you some space." Joe says as they clean up the mess of food in the living room and take it to the trash in the kitchen. 

"Oh you don't have to." Val shakes her head. 

"It's not up for discussion, I'll finish up here. You should go get some rest." Joe smiles and Val just nods. Even though it wasn't even 9PM yet, she did feel exhausted after the news she had received today. 

"Thanks, I'll uh see you in the morning...goodnight." Val says giving Joe a small smile which eh returns. 

"Goodnight." 

Val head upstairs grabbing her phone and goes into Joe's room. She uses the bathroom quickly and gets into the comfortable bed when there was a small knock on the door as it opened. 

"Thought you'd like some water." Joe says bringing her a water bottle and setting it on the nightstand. Val thanks him and he goes to leave when she grabs his hand and stops him in his tracks. 

"Stay...please." She says softly and Joe gives her a look of sadness and pity before he gently nods. 

"Let me just turn off the hall light." He says squeezing her hand. Val nods letting go of him. Coming back into the room, Joe this time around doesn't say anything about Val being on his side of the bed and just turns off the light and gets in bed next to her. Val cuddles up to him inhaling his familiar comforting scent that she loved so much and Joe places a few kisses on her head as he slowly and gently rubs her back as she lets sleep take over, feeling fully comforted and cared for by the person who has her heart.

A/N: That was heavy chapter! But BF Joe showed up 👀

[shinobus-bonnet]

tell my brother she ours

Pairings: Rengoku x black!femreader x Tengen

Warnings: smut. (cant believe I am doing this) 2 big men tearing them walls up. you're basically they sugar baby become girlfie (just read I promise). CRINGE OH MA GOD.

DARK CONTENT CONSUMERS/AUTHORS DNI

this is my first time so please. spare me. it is very obvious that I could not use certain words or phrases because I kept cringing so.

————————————————————————

you never really asked for much in life. You had a decent job at a small bakery and two rich men spoiling the fuck out of you.

It was random. You met one in the grocery store and the other at your job. It came naturally, just the casual flirting and occasional dates with each other which led them to start giving you money even though you didn't ask.

Rent is paid for, they would send groceries to your house and send designer clothes and bags. Anything you asked for you got it.

and you are just sweet as candy to them. Rejecting some of the things they wanted to give to you even though they sent it to your house anyways

but what you didn't know was, that the two men were co-owners of the country's wealthiest company, best friends even

and they didn't know that they were talking to the same woman until the two were talking about their love life and how they liked this girl and always sending her gifts and then they had the bright idea of showing each other on the count of three.

Once they flipped the phones around, it got awkwardly silent.

"no fucking way." Tengen exclamined

they couldn't be too mad at her because they weren’t really boyfriend and girlfriend and also, she didn't know she was talking to best friends.

"so what do we do now?" rengoku asked

You were on the way home from closing up the bakery. As you got in your car you received a phone call from kyojuro.

"hello?" you spoke

"Hi my love, how was your day at work today?" he asked

The two of them melted as they heard your sweet voice come through the phone as you talked about your day.

"why dont you meet me at my house sunshine? I can make dinner and we chill for a moment, that sounds ok?" He asked

You chirped up a sure and asked for him to send the address.

The two men looked at each other and left out silently.

You pulled up to this big ass house and seen two cars parked out front and thought that they were both of his. Knocking on the door he immediately invited you in and led you the couch.

You were definitely not expecting to see tengen sitting spread out on the couch with a glass of whiskey sending you a little wave

you grew nervous at the sight of the two fine men you've been talking to for the past 9 months or so sitting there smugly as they watched you sit nervously on the couch

"relax, you're not in trouble sweetheart" Tengen said leaning over to put his glass down.

"so...yall are friends??" you asked trying to wrap your mind around everything

"yes, and business partners."

"makes a lot of sense now, i'm sorr-" you began

"no need for apologies my love. To not waste anymore time we decided to make this a partnership."

"so basically, yall both are my boyfriends now, is this what youre saying to me right now?" you questioned

"yes thats exactly what we’re saying, if you dont want to do that no worries. We just want you to be comfortable." Tengen chimed in

The tree of you sat in silence while you thought about it.

"could it really be that bad? two men loving on you, giving you the world if you wanted it. What could go wrong?" you asked your self

"what do you say sweetheart?"

You simply nodded your head as you played with your fingers. Walking over to your figure tengen lifted your chin up to meet his eyes

"need to hear you say it verbally baby"

"y-yeah, im down"

Tengen crouched down to place a soft kiss on your lips while rengoku attacked you neck with hickies and bites

You let out the softest whimpers and moans. It was all too much for you in the moment. It was getting hard to kiss uzui back seeing that Kyojuro sucked on your neck so sweetly and uzui had his hands cupping your pretty face as he was kissing you.

Sending you off to the bed room the two men took another shot of whiskey and loosened their ties and shirts

"so are we playing good cop bad cop here or no?" Tengen asked

Kyojuro looked at him with a stale face as he held his glass

"What! i'm just trying to get a feel on how we're gonna do this" he exclaimed while rolling his eyes

walking to the bedroom Kyojuro gave a small chuckle to his best friend.

you were nervous. as fuck. if you would've known you were getting fucked you would have wore something more...sexually appealing but you already here now.

your thighs kept rubbing together in anticipation from what's about to go down in this bedroom making yourself even more flustered and aroused.

hearing the door open you popped up seeing the two men come in with gentle smiles

"are you sure you want to do this my love?" Kyo asked sweetly

"yeah, I'm sure" you responded.

Tengen slipped behind you and placed you in his lap while kyojuro sat in front of you with your legs open

Kyojuro began to kiss you again from your jaw, neck, chest as his fingers pulled your underwear to the side and started to rub up and down your folds.

You held in your whimpers and moans to save you from the embarrassment

"you gotta speak up baby" uzi teased

shaking your head no he instructed kyojuro to stop fingering you

whining you threw your head back and guided kyojuros fingers back to where they were

"whats wrong tengen?" he asked confusedly

"our pretty girl isnt being so nice to us. Its almost like... we're not making her feel good"

smacking his lips he brung his hand to your face and asked "are we making you feel good sweetheart?" and then nodding your head for you

"see! she said yes now can I resume what I was doing now?" he asked

"No not until I hear some words come out that pretty mouth" tengen replied

the two of you groaned in response to uzuis antics

"oh now you wanna respond when you dont get what you want" he sneered "such a spoiled girl you are"

"please, just let me touch her uzui" rengoku pleaded

Ren had your best interest in heart. He wanted to make you feel good and see you come undone. but his best friend had different plans.

"cmon sweetheart be good for me ok?" uzui said sweetly in your ear

you softly gave an ok to him and he finally let kyojuro go back to what he was doing.

It was a sight for sore eyes seeing you sandwiched between the two big beefy men , moaning and giving them praises for making you feel so good.

Taking off his shirt kyojuro slotted him self between your legs and began to place little kisses and licks on the inside of your thighs and soon landing on your clit giving little kisses and soon sucking on it making you squrim and wrapping your legs around his back.

Tengen placed little bites down your ear to your neck while he toyed with your nipples

Between him talking so sweet in your ear and kyojuro eating you out like a mad man you were nearing your release.

"oh youre so pretty when you cum my love, makes me want to give you another one" rengoku said coming up to place a kiss on your temple

and indeed he does. plowing into you while saying the filthiest but sweetest things in you ear while your clawing at his back moaning his name so sweetly over and over asking for more.

meanwhile, uzui sat in the chair across the room hard as brick seeing you ger ravished by his bestfriend

he started to slowly undress himself and palm himself in his pants at the sight of the two of you. he grew harder in anticpation for his turn with you

He thought Kyojuro was too sweet. it made his teeth rot.

once you came for a second time kyojuro gave you some water to help your heavy breathing,

uzui got on the bed and sat you on top of him

"how are you feeling pretty girl?" he asked sweetly

"good, im doing ok" you answered back in between breaths

responding with a smile he gave you a deep kiss and slid you onto him

your little whines fueled him knowing he was slightly bigger than Kyojuro he smiled menacingly. He instructed you to bounce slowly but it you were having trouble taking him all at once.

"I need help" you moaned out

seeing your big doe eyes basically pleading for his help he gave you a kiss on your forehead and obliged.

he lifted your hips and started to thrust into you while kissing your neck and talking in your ear.

as he made you a member of the cream team for the 3rd time that night he laid you onto your chest rubbing your back trying to help steady your breathing

Kyojuro ran you a bath as you laid on your boyfriends chest.

"you alright angel? I know this could've been a lot for your first time with us" uzui asked sweetly

"yeah, just sleepy thats all." you responded with closed eyes and a very soft voice

He carried you bridal style to the bathroom where kyojuro was already there waiting for you two.

Placing you in the tub every so gently the two climbed in behind you and laid you on thier bodies

"thank you. for everything." you said softly

the bubbles were floating onto your body the water was warm and your two boyfriends were warmer and you fell asleep in their arms.

you could get used to this.

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

Rainy Days - Professor Butler Pt. II

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler

Requested: yes! - several of y'all asked for part 2 haha

Prompt: You've been seeing Professor Butler for several months now, and you're getting tired of all this sneaking around. Is he gonna grow a pair and commit or not? [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: None!

Rating: Pg-13   ||     Word Count: 4061

A/N: this is the ghost of mila since i'll be at a work event when this is posted lmao 👻

happy birthday to the sexiest man alive 2022 🥴🥴 i hope y'all enjoy part 2. also i did not know that Agnetha from ABBA was dead and i am...very sad about that

Read part one here!

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You spritz yourself one last time with perfume before hectically grabbing the strap to your purse and blasting out the door. You’re running late to meet your…well, you aren’t really sure what he is to you. He’s everything and nothing at the same time. As far as everyone else is concerned, he’s professor to you. But in private, in the quiet moments when it’s just you and he, he’s so much more than that. Boyfriend, lover, friend with benefits. You aren’t sure what title fits your relationship best. And never have you used any of those words to describe him. Boyfriend is too formal, lover too sexual, and friend with benefits too distant. He is your…your Austin. That’s the only word that feels right to say. And as you glance at your watch, you realize just how late you are to meet him.

You sprint across the street and a car beeps at you. You throw up a hand and mutter a ‘sorry’ even though you know they can’t hear you. After you round the corner to get to a bridge, you stop and take a moment to collect yourself. You brush your hair back and push it into place, straighten your clothes, dab some sweat from your forehead. You take a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart that’s beating out of your chest, not from the sprint to the park but from the thought of getting to see him again. No matter how many times you do this, how many times you meet him for your - what’s become a weekly - walk through the park just off-campus, you never stop feeling like you’re sneaking around. You never stop getting that adrenaline rush that comes with doing something forbidden. Perhaps that’s because there is always a chance, just a small one, that someone will recognize the two of you together.

You smile as you approach your usual meeting place: a fountain in the middle of the park, a secluded area where you’ve never actually seen another person besides the two of you. Even from the back, you can tell the figure sitting on the bench is him, his gorgeous blonde curls reflecting the golden rays of afternoon sunlight. You peer over his shoulder to see a book flapped open on his lap, as usual, and bite your lip at how academic he is. How handsome he is just doing the thing he loves most. You always cherish these moments, and you’ve gotten very good at picking them up after pining after him in class for so long. These candid moments of him just…existing. You’ve never seen a man exist so charmingly before. You slink up behind him, making sure to be as quiet as possible, and throw your arms around his chest. You allow your lips to hover by his ear.

“Hi Aus,” you whisper in a low voice. 

When his head jerks up from the words on the novel’s page, you can tell your surprise attack was successful. You take advantage of the distraction, running your fingers across the half-open flap of his dress shirt. He chuckles deeply and tilts his head back, a handsome smirk resting on his lips. He reaches up to remove his sunglasses, pushing the golden locks aside with the frames. His other hand moves to rest on your arm, stroking your skin with his thumb.

“Hey you,” he responds. “You’re late.”

“Fashionably,” you roll your eyes.

“You were never late to my class,” he counters.

“I would never disrespect the curriculum like that.”

He lifts your arms over his head, still holding onto them as he uses his thick thighs to push himself to stand. He turns, holding you out at arm's length to take you in. You’ve worn your favorite sundress today, one that you know makes your breasts look amazing. You know he’s noticed that when his eyes drop down to your breasts and then return to your eyes.

“What about this curriculum?” he asks, jerking you toward him. You crash into his chest and giggle, sliding your hands up the shirt and onto the nape of his neck, absentmindedly playing with the extra curly hair there. He leans down, gently brushing his lips against yours. You smirk against him, darting your tongue out to touch his lips before you lean back.

“Oh, I prefer the internship portion of this curriculum. You know, the practicum component where I get to put my skills to work.”

He smirks before pulling you taut against him and crashing his mouth down onto yours. He slips his tongue between your lips, wet and warm as it traces figures along your sensitive skin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers crawling their way into his hair. His hands slip to your ass and he hoists you up onto his hips, walking backward until your back hits what you assume to be the trunk of a tree. You moan again as his hips press into yours. You bite onto his bottom lip, pulling it out and he groans in response before releasing your lips.

“You’ve been studying, baby,” he growls, breathless. “A+.”

You just smirk and hop down. He intertwines his fingers into yours, spinning you around to his side. He snatches his book up, and you start on the path that you’ve trodden so many times before. You both know it by heart now, so you can focus your whole attention on each other.

“What are you reading, Aus?” you ask, gesturing to the book.

“Agnetha Faltskog - The Girl With the Golden Hair.”

He flips the book to show you the cover depicting a beautiful blonde woman. You smile.

“Who’s that?”

“She was one of the members of ABBA. Unfortunately, she died not too long ago, so I wanted to read more about her. It’s very interesting so far.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I love ABBA.”

“They’re one of my favorites. They were certainly a talented group and they produced tons and tons of hits.”

“Enough for two movies and a musical,” you reply with a chuckle, and he laughs. “Hey…”

You stop, glancing down a path that you both gloss by every time you take this walk. You point toward it, pulling on his arm.

“Why don’t we go this way?”

Austin shrugs and redirects his steps to go down the path you’ve chosen. You get back to talking about ABBA and what he’s reading. Then, you talk about what you’re reading and doing. You trudge along the path, making conversation until you start to hear noises in the distance. Your eyes tear themselves away from Austin’s for the first time in a while to notice that you’re approaching a clearing in the woods.

As you emerge into the clearing, the sounds of old 80s music and roller skates on wood flood into your ears. An outdoor roller rink. You smile and point. Austin nods but as you take a step closer you feel him release your fingers and, just out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he shoves his hand into his pocket. For some reason, a sense of embarrassment seeps into your chest.

He does this frequently. Whenever you’re out in public where other people might see you, actually. You know that Austin lives in constant fear of being found out and tattled on by a student or a faculty member. So far, you’ve accepted and lived with it since you understand the risk it poses to his career. But you won’t lie and say that it doesn’t bother you. Actually, as you walk toward the rink to look closer, your brain starts to run through all the times he’d released your fingers, distanced himself from you, he even acted like he didn’t know you on one risky close encounter. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, especially since you’re sure that anyone can see the adoration you hold for him on your face. As you step up to the rink, you’re starting to get a little pissed off, actually. You glance over at him to see a dumb smile playing on his lips as if everything is just dandy. In the afternoon light of the day, he looks so handsome.

But you kinda wanna punch him in the face right now. You should be able to grab his face and kiss him, snuggle underneath his arm, hold his hand. You’re basically a couple…aren’t you? Suddenly, your body is overwhelmed with the need to know if what you feel for him is returned. Until this moment you haven’t questioned it, but now…

Your fingers dance along the banister and onto his fingers. You grab at them, but he snakes them away and shoots you a look like a parent would to a disobedient child. You clench your jaw and then try again, this time sliding your entire body in front of him. He steps back, away from you, and shakes his head.

“Don’t do that.”

You can tell by his tone and body language that he’s starting to get irritated. Good. You smirk, your fingers traveling to his belt loops and hooking into them to yank him against you.

“What? I just wanna be close to you. Don’t you wanna be close to me?”

You press your chest into his and drop your hands to his pelvis, curving them ever so close to his crotch. He sighs deeply, moving his fingers to your shoulders and attempting to push you off of him. But you stay clinging to him, refusing to be removed.

“Come onnnnnn. Just one little kissie. No one will even notice.”

He falters for a moment, and you can practically see the conflict in his eyes, a mixture of disappointment and temptation. He wants you, you can tell, but he doesn’t know if he should take you. Although your heart is racing with the embarrassment of your actions, you’re just so tired of hiding. You could never say it out loud, but you’re pretty sure that you’re in love with this man. You’re not expecting a marriage proposal or anything like that but just some recognition would be nice. You just want to flaunt him, show the whole world that he’s yours.

You hook your finger into the belt loop of his pants and yank him harder against you as your other hand pulls down on his neck. You strain your own neck upward, pushing your chin out to try desperately to connect your lips to his. He begins to move down toward you, but his head jerks back harshly and hands fly to your wrists, sternly removing them from his body. He pushes you back, holding you at arm's length again.

“No. I’ve told you no before. We just can’t do it. It’s inappropriate. That was the deal when we first got together. I told you that we wouldn’t be able to tell anyone, at least not until you graduate in May. I’m sorry, but I can’t risk either or both of us getting into trouble with the university.”

You stare up at him, the unfeeling coldness in his eyes making your fingers clench into fists at your sides. As you calculate your next movement, splats of chilling rain begin to fall onto your skin. You aren’t completely sure what overcomes you, but you find yourself reaching out and firmly shoving his chest. He stumbles back a few steps, his eyes widening and mouth popping open with shock.

“How can you treat me like this?” you shout. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t like sneaking around and hiding? Did my feelings ever even cross your mind?” You know that what you’re saying is bullshit, but you say it anyway. “No, I’m sure they didn’t. You don’t want us to get in trouble with the university? Us, Austin? Or you?? Don’t think I haven’t heard the gossip that you’re up for tenure already. God forbid the university board should find out that you’re having an affair with me. Bye-bye tenure. That’s the real reason isn’t it?”

“Don’t be petty, Y/N. Of course that’s not the reason. But I just can’t go around shouting to the world that I’m fucking a student,” he spits back.

“So that’s all I am to you, then? Just some student you’re fucking?? I’m just some kind of sugar baby to you, is that it? Someone to pass the time with, something to use?”

“No!” he yells back, taking a step forward so that he’s towering over you. You stick your neck out, challenging him.

“Then what the hell am I to you?”

“Y/N…”

“No, answer my question. What am I to you? Am I your girlfriend or not?”

He says nothing, and you can tell that he’s trying to contain his emotions in the presence of the other people around, some of which could be faculty or students.

“Answer. Me. Austin.”

He stays quiet, his eyes flicking around to take in all the bystanders who are beginning to notice your little quabble thanks to the volume of your voice.

“Fucking answer the question, Austin!” you yell even louder, reaching out to shove him again. “Just say it. Say I’m your girlfriend. Say it!”

“You’re not my girlfriend!!”

His sudden shift in tone shocks you, and you feel heat crawling into your cheeks as you glance around at all the observers watching your drama go down. When you glare back at his eyes, they flash with a moment of concern and guilt. He says nothing and realization begins to dawn on you.

“Whatever. You know what, I don’t care. I’m leaving. Don’t contact me, and I’ll drop your stupid class. Goodbye, Professor Butler. I hope you enjoy your tenure.”

You spin on your heel too quickly for him to respond. You know that nothing you’ve said is true nor does it make any logical sense. But you are so infuriated, so frustrated, so enraged that you just want to be anywhere but next to him. The rain begins to fall harder. And harder. And harder. The drops are freezing cold and you find it ironic. The timing. It’s almost as if you have started the downpour that’s ensuing.

In a matter of moments, what are just a few raindrops pitter-pattering here and there turn into a full-fledged shower. You cross your arms over your chest, shivering as your skin and dress start to soak through. You trudge through the grass which is quickly becoming a muddy mess, not caring what you might look like. You’re pretty sure you’re crying but with the raindrops trickling down your cheeks, you can’t be sure. Just as you’re about to cross the street, you feel someone’s hand on your arm. Whirling around with rage, you raise your arm to strike whatever is clutching onto you.

Austin’s open palm wraps around your wrist to stop it from colliding with his perfect face. You cower as soon as you make eye contact with him, immediately recognizing the fury in his face. His grip on your wrist is firm but not painful.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls, and you’re thrown back to all the times in the past few months that you’ve been with Austin. The times that he’d fucked your brains out with eyes like that. The first time that you’d slept together, when he had asked you that exact same question.

“Going back to my dorm so I can get drunk off my ass and update my Tinder profile,” you say, half-joking and maybe half-not.

“Y/N, don’t be like this. Why can’t you just understand? I need this job.”

“Do you? Do you need it more than you need me? Cause if so, then I guess all this bullshit in the past few months has been for nothing.”

You try to pull away, but his hand snakes onto your waist, pulling you against him.

“I need it because of you, don’t you understand? I want to be able to help you! Your student loans, your books, food! Whatever you need. I want to be able to provide for you!”

You have to admit that the sentiment makes your heart flutter for a moment, but you push that feeling down. You’re enjoying the power of your anger too much and making him feel guilty is way too fun.

“You don’t need to provide for me,” you shout. “That’s why I’m getting a fucking college degree. So I can provide for myself.”

You turn to stalk away but whirl back around when something occurs to you.

“So that is it, then? I am just some kind of sugar baby to you. You disgust me.”

This time around, with the combination of your rage and impatience, you’re strong enough to rip away from his grasp. You stomp quickly across the wet sidewalk, splashing puddles of muddy and dirty water up onto your legs.

“You’re not my fucking sugar baby,” suddenly Austin is right next to you. Damn his long legs. You try to speed up, but this is pretty much the fastest you can physically walk and you just have no chance against Austin’s lanky figure. He’s matching your pace with every step.

“Then why won’t you say that I’m your girlfriend? Make up your mind, Austin. I can’t keep sneaking around and waiting for you to accept me. To be proud of me. To show me off. It’s embarrassing to have to tell everyone I’m single when I’m not. I’m embarrassed that you don’t want to show me off. Is there something wrong with me? What, am I not good enough for your hoity-toity professor friends?”

“No. That’s not it. You’re very, very bright and an amazing person. We both know that-”

“Then why? Why won’t you accept me? Why do we have to continue to hide? I hate this. I hate lying to my parents, my friends, the people who are closest to me. Because you know what?? I want to tell them. I want to tell everyone. I want everyone to know. I lo…I like you so much. So so much, and I can’t tell anyone about it! No one!”

You’re definitely crying now. At this point, you’ve both stopped in the middle of the street. Your fists are splayed out behind you to offset the force of your screams. You’re breathing heavily, between the fast walking, the crying, the freezing rain shaking your body, and the anger. Shockingly, not a single car is passing by on either side of the street. You should probably move and that thought crosses your mind for a quick second, but lord knows you’re too stubborn to move before he does.

“And you think it doesn’t kill me? Not to tell anyone about you? Not to show you off? Goddamn it, Y/N/, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous, the hottest person I’ve ever seen. You’re ethereal, it’s unreal. And you’re funny and quirky and quick-witted. And so smart and sure of yourself. You’re so talented and everything about you makes my heart race. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, but I cannot ruin your life. I will not ruin our lives like this. I need the job so I can…”

He hesitates, suddenly realizing how many confessions he’s just spat at you. Your heart is thudding against your chest so loud that it’s drowning out the sounds of the harsh rain on the rooftops of the buildings along the street. You don’t know what to do. He loves you. He’s said it. Officially.

But he needs the job so he can…what??

“So you can what?” you ask, your eyes flicking between his.

A moment of tense silence passes between you as you wait for him to answer your question. You take a step forward, leaning your head up to gaze into his deep blue eyes. You raise your hand to his face, brushing a thumb over the slick cheek covered in cold rain. You watch as a few drops of water roll off his plump parted lips and you want more than anything to suck all the drops up. To taste the water on him.

Just as he’s about to answer, you jump at the sound of a loud beep. You glance to the side to see a black sedan racing toward you. Austin instincitvely pulls you against him, spinning around so that his back is facing the oncoming traffic. His arms slide under your armpits and lift you up so that you’re hovering above the ground. He walks forward onto the sidewalk. The car drives past with a beep, the window barely rolled down as the driver angrily shouts obscenities at you.

You continue to walk backward, pulling Austin underneath an awning on the nearest building. You press your back against the brick wall, absentminedely sticking your tongue out to catch a drop of water falling off your nose. He slides in next to you and you both try to catch your breaths.

“So you can what?” you ask.

“What?”

“You were saying that you…you need the job so you can something, but you didn’t finish.”

“Oh…it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” you ask, reaching to grab his hands. “Maybe I can help. Is something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that,” he gazes into your eyes and then chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s…just some dumb idea I had.”

“What? You can tell me. Anything.”

He glances up at you again, and you can tell he’s weighing his options.

“Well…it’s stupid, but I was just saying that…I need the job to start saving for a…ring…”

Your breath catches in your throat and with the wet air and rain dripping down your face you start to cough. You bend over at the waist, coughing your lungs up as Austin rubs your back soothingly.

“Woah, woah, baby girl. Deep breaths, honey, deep breaths.”

“A…ring?” you sputter. “Like a…like a wedding ring?”

“No, no!” he holds his hands out in front of him with wide eyes. “Dear god no. I may be older, but I’m still way too young to be ready for marriage. No, I just thought that…well maybe you could wear it and think of me. And that could kind of show people that you’re taken.”

“So…like a promise ring?”

“Uh…yeah, like a promise ring, I guess.”

You watch the Adam’s apple in his throat bob up and down as he gulps nervously. You bite your lip to keep the smile from spreading too widely across your face.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I do want to show you off. I really do. I just truly don’t want you to get in trouble. The university has a very strict policy about this kind of stuff, even if it is consensual. And more than that, I want to be able to provide for you if I ever get the chance to. I know it’s crazy to think this far in the future since we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months, but…like I said out there. Y/N, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I’ve love you, baby.”

His hand reaches up to cup your cheek and you lean into his touch.

“I just wanna make everything good for you. Like I told you before, this won’t be easy, but I’ll take care of you. And maybe…maybe we can head up to my parent’s house this weekend. They’re hosting a dinner with some of their old friends and they invited me. I wasn’t gonna go so that I could stay here and spend time with you, but maybe I can bring you along.”

A huge smile spreads across your face. You raise yourself up on your tip-toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He kisses you back and you can feel the corners of his mouth curl up into a smile. When you pull back, you nudge his nose with yours.

“I love you, too. And I would love to go.”

“Alright. Let’s do it. But in the meantime, let’s get you inside before you freeze to death,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you toward the corner of the sidewalk. “I like you wet but not like this.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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[purple-babygirl]

you got me reading all your works from 4 AM till 6 AM today, and I have zero regrets. And I’d do it all again. I truly love all of your works, especially those that has anything to do with Bucky.

Now all I can think about is Bucky’s reaction and care to finding out that his Little got an injury—one that she been hiding from him. Omg the fluff.

Anyway, have a great day!

Pairing: Poly!SamBucky x little!f!reader

Word count: 3,381 (i know i know...)

Warnings: polyamory, ddlg dynamics, excessive, probably unnecessary, fluff no one asked for.

A/N: Nonnie, I'm honored💜. Thank you so much for sending me this, you've warmed my heart to no extent💜💜. It is everything when you tell me you like what I share with you. You're so amazing and I hope I'll always deliver and never disappoint you ily:"💜 I know you only said Bucky but I couldn't help but get Papa!Sam in there too, hope you're not mad at me?:" Please enjoy xx.

~~

don't hide

"Oh, we forgot the toilet paper!" Sam groaned, "I'll go get it. Wait here, sugar, okay? Eyes on the bags and don't move. Papa will be right back," he said before marching back to the big store's entrance, leaving her by the car with all the grocery bags.

Papa said to wait there. Papa warned her that the ground was snowy and slippery and dangerous. Papa told her not to move, she reminded herself but she just couldn't help it. She had to grab that orange.

A bag had fallen on its side out of nowhere and an orange had fallen out and rolled away. She needed to get it before Papa came back or else he'd know she wasn't watching the bags and was zoned out instead. She'd be careful and she'd take the fruit and come back to where Papa left her and he wouldn't even know it. She'd take small steps and she'd be quick. Plus, she was a big girl; she'd never slip, right?

Wrong.

Before she could catch herself, her foot was slipping, her arms were flailing and she was on her back on the cold, hard icy ground. She squeaked, pain shooting through her spine like an electric shock. Through panic and pain, she got hold of the stray fruit, managing to get herself up and back to where she was supposed to be standing the whole time before Sam made his way back to her.

"There we go," Sam sighed, setting the bag with the toilet paper beside the others and opening the car.

She was silent, biting down on her lip to stifle the pained whimpers ready to leave her mouth.

"You ready to go, sugar?" He asked her as he stacked the last bag in the car, slamming the back shut.

"Yes, papa." She nodded, the bones supporting her neck hurting as she tried her best not to cry when she slightly bent to get in the backseat.

She didn't say anything. She couldn't. Daddy and Papa were taking her sledding in the park the next day and she couldn't even be good and obey one single thing she was told. They'd definitely cancel the whole day and make her stay home if they knew what she did. And not only that but she'd surely be punished for not listening and not being careful enough. She could take it. She could play, sled and smile through the pain. Plus, she was a big girl; she could handle a little fall, right?

Wrong.

Her back was killing her. She tried not to hiss when Papa put her seat belt on for her. She had no idea how she'd make it through the day.

~

"Show daddy what you got him, sugar!" Sam encouraged after leaving the bag of goods on the table for her, walking to the kitchen to drop a bunch of grocery bags

She carefully pulled a chair out and slowly climbed on top, rummaging through the bag until she found a packet of Bucky's favourite cookies. She'd pointed at them as soon as she saw them at the store and didn't stop until Papa got them down the high shelf and into the cart.

Bucky's appreciative smile lit up the room, "oh, for me?"

"Yes, daddy. Got 'em for you." She nodded timidly, playing with her sleeve.

He accepted the cookies with a giddy grin and went to store them in place in the kitchen. She giggled, proud she was the reason Daddy was smiling.

"Thank you, love." Before she could stop him, Bucky was hugging her tight, metal arm pressing on her back to pull her body to his.

The chocked whimper she let out didn't go unnoticed by the super soldier.

"You okay, doll?" Bucky raised a worried brow, flesh hand rubbing circles on her back as a sort of habit.

"Yes, daddy. I'm fine," she lied, held-in tears burning the back of her eyes. She just needed him to stop touching her spine.

"You sure?"

"Sugar, go wash your hands we just got back from outside," Sam reminded, saving her from repeating the lie to Bucky.

"Yes, papa." Her socked feet padded on the floor as she left for the bathroom.

Bucky shrugged it off for now, walking outside to help Sam with the bags. She probably wanted more candy than she was allowed and Sam refused or something of that sort.

~

When she was done washing her hands, she tiptoed to her bedroom and did her best to redress herself fast. Her discoloured skin looked awful in the mirror. She couldn't let her daddies see the huge bruise that was forming on her back, innocently praying it'd disappear over night so they could still go sledding the next morning.

"You changed by yourself?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows upon seeing her in a comfier outfit. He knew for a fact Bucky didn't help her because he was washing strawberries in the sink behind him.

"Yes, papa," she muttered hesitantly, fearing his reaction.

"Why didn't you call me or daddy, baby? We could've helped."

"Papa and daddy are busy, didn' wanna bother you," she lied again.

"Doll, we'll never be too busy to look after our favourite girl. You can always ask for daddy and papa's help, okay?" Bucky assured her gently.

"Yes, dada."

"Good girl, here," Bucky grinned, offering her a strawberry.

"Tank you." She took it with a smile and hummed after the first bite, making Sam chuckle.

"You did a good job dressing yourself, sugar. We're proud of you." Sam let his hand cradle the small of her back so he could kiss her forehead.

She whimpered again, biting her lip hard and closing her eyes.

"Everything alright, baby?"

"Yes, papa. Strawberry tastes so good."

"Okay, baby. Go play in your room till me and daddy get lunch ready."

"Yes, papa." She pecked Sam's cheek before leaving the kitchen.

"She's lying," Bucky told his husband as soon as she got inside her playroom.

"I know."

~

She spent the rest of the morning suffering in silence. Her back hurt whenever it came in contact with anything. She couldn't lean forward, or backward. She couldn't even lay down for nap time, crying into her pillow as soon as her daddies left the room.

She'd try not to whine when Daddy's palm touched her upper back. She couldn't enjoy watching her favourite show on TV because she was too busy trying not to pull away when Papa hugged her to his chest while she was on his lap.

As the hours passed, she was in so much pain it was showing all over her face. Sam and Bucky were worried that she wasn't saying anything. They knew something was wrong they just didn't know what. They failed to notice her features scrunching up in pain whenever they touched her because, in their defense, they were always touching her. So they couldn't really pinpoint the problem.

"There you go, sugar." Sam handed her a plastic cup, half full of strawberry milk he'd just whipped in the blender for her.

"Thank you, papa." She smiled gratefully, stretching her neck to kiss his cheek, her face twisting in pain as a result.

"Doll, are you sure you're okay? Do you have a tummy ache? Do you feel sick?" Bucky questioned softly, all while rubbing circles on her upper back.

"No, dada. I'm okay," she continued to lie, sipping from her straw quickly so maybe Bucky would stop and let her drink in peace.

Bucky looked to Sam in defeat and the latter just shrugged at him helplessly.

"Love, me and papa are worried there's something you're not telling us." Bucky's hand caressed further down to the small of her back and she couldn't help but wince, dropping her cup.

Strawberry milk covered her chest and lap and she couldn't hold it in anymore. She started crying and apologizing, thinking there was no way out of punishment for her now. They were going to find out.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, sugar. It was an accident. It's okay." Sam tried to soothe her but her cries only grew louder as she let all the tears out.

Her body hurt so bad and it didn't help that Bucky was patting her back to calm her coughs and sobs.

"Come with me, doll. Let's get you cleaned up." She cried harder at Bucky's statement, knowing they were going to see her back now.

"No, daddy, please. Don't wanna." She shook her head, choking on her tears. She made no effort to go to his open arms like she would.

It broke Bucky's heart a tiny bit. He started to think he'd done something; that she was like that all day because of him for some reason.

"But baby, you're soaked in milk. You can't stay like that!" Sam didn't wait for her refusal, slipping his arms under her legs and carrying her body off the couch.

"No, no, papa, please." Her tears wet Sam's sweater, her thrashing hurting her muscles even more.

"Stop crying, sugar. Tell me what's wrong," Sam said, sitting down on the closed toilet lid with her on his lap.

She remained silent, her fist rubbing at her teary eye and her lips trembling.

"Is there anything you wanna tell me and daddy, baby?" Sam tried again, making brief eye contact with a worried Bucky preparing a bath.

"Wanna shower by myself," she muttered when her sobs died out, tears still leaving her red eyes.

"You know we can't let you do that, doll," Bucky sighed.

"B-But I dressed by myself," she cried more, leaning on Sam's chest.

"This is different, baby." He kissed her forehead.

"Why don't you want our help, doll? What is it?"

She was quiet again, making both men sigh.

"Alright, love, hands up," Bucky instructed but she shook her head.

"Come on now, be good. We gotta get you cleaned up, baby, or you're gonna be all sticky," Sam told her, fingers tugging at the hem of her sweater.

She gave up fighting; her back was sore and she knew her daddies were going to get her in that bath no matter what. She closed her eyes when the sweater was pulled over her head, preparing herself for Daddy's reaction.

"My goodness, doll! What happened?!" Bucky exclaimed in worry and she started sobbing again.

"What is it?"

"Look at her back, it's messed up!" Bucky gestured to the huge purple and blue bruise, whispering the last part of his sentence.

"Oh my god! How did you get this?!" Sam's eyes widened as he questioned her and she only cried more.

It broke their heart. She was in so much pain all morning and they had no idea. How could they be so inattentive?

"Hey, baby, no, it's alright. We just wanna know how you got hurt, sugar. You're not in trouble," Sam reassured, pushing her hair out of her face while Bucky ever so tenderly examined her bruises.

"I'm sorry, papa. I'm so sorry," she cried in his chest, "I- I didn' listen when you- told me to stay I- the orange fell out an- and I wanted to get it and I fell d-down an' hurt m-myself." She tried to explain between hiccups as Sam bit down in realization and regret.

"Aw, sugar," Sam sighed, feeling guilt gnaw at him for leaving her alone by the car. What was he thinking? How could he leave her all by herself like that? She was just a little baby!

"Papa's sorry, baby. Papa's so sorry he left you standing alone and went back inside." Sam apologized, kissing away the tears soaking her cheeks while she sniffled and hiccuped.

"Don't cry, doll. We're not sad with you. You didn't do anything wrong," Bucky cooed, his thumb wiping the tears down her chin and neck.

"B-But I was bad." She looked at Bucky with teary eyes.

"No, doll, you weren't bad. You were just tryna help Papa because you're a good girl." Bucky kissed her temple, holding her forehead to his cheek while he looked at Sam.

The man was zoned out, probably beating himself up somewhere in his mind.

"Let's just get you in the tub for now and then we can let the doctor take a look at your back, okay?"

"What if he gives me shots?"

"He's not gonna give you shots, doll. Only something to apply to your bruise, nothing painful or scary." Bucky promised, easing her off Sam's lap to get the rest of her clothes off.

Sam scratched his head before abruptly standing from the toilet seat, "I'll go start dinner."

Bucky sighed when his husband left the bathroom. He knew Sam was feeling guilty for their baby getting hurt and while he wanted to assure him it wasn't his fault, he had to tend to her for the time being.

"There you go, doll." Bucky carefully lowered her in the tub, letting the warm, soaped water soothe the ache in her muscles.

"Dada, can you come too?" She asked quietly, noiseless tears still leaving her eyes.

Bucky stripped himself at once, cautiously getting behind her in the tub before pressing her back to his chest. She sighed as he held her to him, Bucky's chest being much comfier than the solid ceramic of the tub.

"Is papa mad at me?" She asked Bucky, her voice trembling and breaking as she continued to cry.

"No, no, doll. Papa's not mad at you one bit, he's just worried about you," Bucky said, his hands rubbing softly on her tummy as he kissed her shoulder.

"Then why'd he leave?" Her voice was squishing Bucky's heart and he just wanted both his babies to feel better.

"He's preparing dinner for you, baby. Papa loves you; he could never be mad at you." Bucky turned her head so she could face him and wiped her tears away.

"We love you, doll. No one is mad at you. Daddy and Papa only want you to be okay. We just wanna keep you safe," Bucky told her warmly and she nodded, wrapping her arms around Bucky's neck and burrowing her face in the crook of it.

~

After her bath, Bucky got out first, telling her to wait while he got towels. But instead his legs took him to Sam.

"I feel like shit for not noticing too," Bucky muttered behind his spouse.

"It's not only that- what are you doing strolling around the house in just a towel after a warm bath?! Bucky, you'll catch a cold-" Sam scolded when he turned around and saw Bucky undressed.

Bucky put his mouth on Sam's in an attempt to calm his anxiety.

"I'm gonna be fine and so is she," Bucky promised against Sam's lips, cupping his cheek.

"I left her alone, Buck. She got hurt because of me."

"No, love, no. It was an accident. It could've happened anywhere any time."

"I still shouldn't have left her."

"Then we know not to do it again. Don't beat yourself up over it and distance yourself like that."

"I'm not distancing myself."

"Sam, she thinks you're sad with her. Please, love," Bucky begged, his thumb swiping over Sam's skin until the latter nodded with a sigh.

"Now go put on something."

"I thought you liked me naked," Bucky teased.

"Go." Sam lightly slapped his rear.

"I'm going." Bucky laughed, kissing Sam's lips one last time before retreating to the bathroom.

~

Bucky dressed her in something warm and told her to wait a minute while he got ready so he could take her to the doctor's. She peaked out of her room, hearing onions sizzling in the kitchen. She walked over to Sam as he poured tomato juice and the pot hissed.

"Papa? Are you mad?" She tugged at Sam's sleeve, red-rimmed eyes staring up at the man.

Sam sighed, turning off the stove. He took her hand in his and walked out of the kitchen with her, sitting down on the couch and motioning for her to sit on his lap.

"Why didn't you say anything, sugar?" Sam asked, putting her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, papa," shs teared up, "I thought you'd be mad at me and think I'm bad and not wanna take me sledding no more."

"Baby, I'd never get mad at you for getting hurt. Ever." Sam reassured her, not letting his eyes get glossy with the tears he held in.

"If you get hurt me and papa will take care of you no matter what, doll. That's the only consequence. Do you understand me, love?" Bucky added, walking out of the bedroom with a jacket in hand.

"Yes, daddy." She nodded, throwing herself in Bucky's arms, "I'm sorry. I love you."

"We love you too, doll." Bucky kissed her head, careful not to hug or squeeze her too tight.

"Papa, will you come to the doctor wimme and daddy?" She asked Sam sweetly, leaning on his chest after leaving Bucky's hold.

"Of course, sugar." Sam's thumb stroked her cheek softly.

"And we can still go sledding in the park tomorrow?"

"Oh no, baby, we can't go tomorrow."

"But you said you weren't mad." Her lip jutted out in a pout.

"I'm not mad, baby, I promise, but you're hurt."

"But the doctor is gonna fix it," she whined

"He's a doctor, sugar, not a wizard!" Sam chuckled

"Because wizards don't exist."

"They do exist, but that's not the point," Sam argued and Bucky playfully rolled his eyes behind her back.

"But papa-"

"No buts, doll. We'll go as soon as you get better and we'll stay as long as you want, yeah?"

"Yes, daddy." She complied, knowing they were right; her back was achy and stinging.

~

As promised the doctor gave her no needles, only a prescription of a cream for her back and a painkiller.

"Daddy, I don't wanna," she whimpered as Bucky lifted her PJs up. She was afraid of the pain she would feel once Bucky started massaging the substance onto her skin.

"I'm gonna be gentle, doll. I promise."

"It's gonna hurt," she complained more.

"Here, sugar, hold papa's hands and daddy will be done before you know it." Sam opened his palms and she immediately put her smaller hands on top.

"There you go, all set. We're ready, daddy," Sam told Bucky, squeezing her hands and smiling comfortingly at her.

She gave half a smile back, blushing as she felt Bucky ever so softly lay kisses down her hurt back.

Sam chuckled, kissing the back of her hand. She slightly hissed when Bucky touched her skin with the cold cream, his pointer and middle spreading it around on the bruises.

"Anywhere else hurts, love?"

"Right here, daddy." She pointed to the back of her neck.

Before Bucky could, Sam tilted himself forward and kissed from the ends of her hair down to where her neck met her back. She giggled, Sam's lips tickling her. The man chuckled again, pecking her cheek.

"Papa?" She held his hands in hers.

"Yes, baby?"

"I love you." She wasn't unaware of how he blamed himself for her little accident and she wanted to let him know it was alright; she was alright.

"I love you more, sugar." Sam smiled, relieved, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Starting to feel seriously left out over here," Bucky said, wiping his fingers on a tissue.

Sam rolled his eyes at his needy-for-attention husband before cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead as well, sending blood to his cheeks.

"I love you, daddy," she whispered, squeezing Bucky's right hand.

"I love you more, doll." Bucky echoed his partner, kissing her hand.

For the whole week, Papa and Daddy let her sleep on top of their chests, seeing as cuddling and spooning weren't options and they still wanted to be close. She'd alternate between the men as the nights passed.

Eventually, they did go sledding in the park when she healed, three days in a row. She loved it and she laughed so much till her cheeks hurt. She could handle a little fall after all; she could handle anything as long as Sam and Bucky were there to take care of her through it.

[jkstompers]

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date. 

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken. 

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date. 

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you. 

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her. 

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing, 

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover? 

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :) 

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days? 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first 

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to. 

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you. 

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something. 

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind. 

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out. 

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying. 

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous. 

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly. 

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him. 

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it. 

feeling okay? 

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk. 

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening. 

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :( 

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you. 

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen. 

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here 

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love. 

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now. 

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight? 

check: ◯  yes ◯ no 

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never. 

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second. 

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no 

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!” 

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again. 

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?” 

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?” 

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing. 

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs. 

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?” 

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot. 

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.” 

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date. 

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair. 

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you. 

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying  that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you. 

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7. 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!! 

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay! 

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat. 

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment. 

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”  

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you. 

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass. 

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again. 

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take. 

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you. 

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat. 

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?” 

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.” 

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless. 

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous. 

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold. 

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.” 

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in. 

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand. 

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face. 

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table. 

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order. 

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around. 

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!” 

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.” 

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive. 

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere. 

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully. 

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you. 

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america? 

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.” 

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile. 

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same. 

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain. 

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction. 

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!” 

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him. 

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love. 

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it. 

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside. 

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.” 

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did. 

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips. 

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind. 

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant. 

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you. 

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste. 

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was. 

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this. 

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.” 

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up. 

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel. 

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this? 

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.” 

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.” 

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?” 

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.” 

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.” 

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest. 

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb. 

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?” 

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more. 

“can i kiss you again, kookie?” 

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“ 

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you. 

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips. 

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.” 

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words. 

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?” 

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks. 

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?” 

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true. 

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice. 

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away. 

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently. 

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark. 

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again. 

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves. 

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.” 

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”  

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good. 

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.  

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers. 

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“ 

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.” 

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific. 

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.” 

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ” 

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more. 

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers. 

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears. 

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper.  you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes. 

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.” 

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it. 

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely. 

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax. 

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual. 

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.” 

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation. 

 “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers. 

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick. 

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows. 

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly. 

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.” 

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.” 

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight. 

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans. 

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.” 

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling.  the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?” 

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?” 

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time. 

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh. 

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue. 

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow. 

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?” 

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues. 

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex. 

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles. 

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy. 

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight. 

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook 

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3 

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay? 

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :) 

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :) 

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie 

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now 

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie 

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams! 

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

[scuttling]

And this I promise from the heart

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,428 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Fluff, Hot tub foreplay, Hiking, Hotch is into plants, Rough sex, Hickies, Biting, Mirror sex Summary: Includes a scene Inspired by @ssahotchie and this ask. Collection: Just The Way You Are Series, Part 2 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Coming Soon!) Part 4 Link to A03 or read below! “Sunny. Sunny,” Aaron calls in his deep, even voice, and the six-month-old Golden Retriever at your feet wags her tail, looks up in your direction.

“Daddy’s home, Sunny girl. Do you want to get daddy?” She rises to her feet, looks out the door, down the hall, then back at you, tail thumping against your desk chair. “Go get daddy.” She takes off running, and you smile, turn back to your work. You can hear the jingle of her tags as Aaron scratches her neck—she’s probably two seconds from flopping onto her back for a belly rub, which, you know, you completely get—and his voice as he asks her if she’s had a good day.

If anyone doesn’t believe Aaron is a soft, gooey marshmallow of a man beneath the buttoned-up federal agent exterior, you welcome them to witness one exchange between him and his dog.

A few minutes later, he walks into your office, Sunny at his heels, and you look up, raise your eyebrows. “Oh, is it my turn to be greeted now?” you tease, and you stand, meet him for a kiss.

“Not jealous, are you?”

“Only a little, but I’ll let you make it up to me.” He wraps an arm around your waist, smooths a hand up your back, kisses you again, but this time it’s slower, warmer, and you’re a little breathless when he pulls back.

“Planning on making it up to you tonight—or, all weekend, actually. Derek offered to watch Sunny, and I pulled some strings and was able to rent us a cabin near the national park. I thought maybe we could get away, get some fresh air, hike the trails? I know it’s not the beach, but on short notice I thought you might enjoy it.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask with a grin, holding onto his arms. This is totally unexpected, so thoughtful it makes your chest ache. You lean up to kiss him repeatedly, soft and sweet. “Thank you, baby, really. I can’t tell you how excited I am.”

“You’re welcome. I should have thought of something like this sooner; I’m sorry I’ve been a little oblivious.” He frowns, and you move your hands to his face, guide him down for a deeper kiss.

“I know you have a lot on your plate, and I love our life exactly as is—going away with you is just a bonus.”

“Well it’s a bonus you deserve,” he says, pulling you closer. “I want to be more attentive; I don’t want to fall back into my old habits.”

“You’re very attentive; I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with my thoughts, so I can’t blame you for not reading my mind. Let’s promise to talk more about things that matter,” you suggest; he agrees, and you kiss again before heading to your bedroom to pack your bags. After getting the car packed for the trip, you head to Derek's to drop off Sunny and her things—with lots of pets and kisses for Sunny, and a tight, appreciative hug for Derek—and then stop for dinner on your way to the cabin.

Aaron is so light and happy, you almost wish you’d gotten drunk and asked for a vacation sooner, even if it is only a weekend away.

The cabin is beautiful, all deep cherry wood and high ceilings, a stone fireplace; there is a swimming pool, a hot tub, and a finished wraparound deck that overlooks the forest. It promises peace, quiet, solitude—a perfect place for you and Aaron to reconnect and spend some one-on-one time together.

You unpack your clothes and toiletries, and Aaron unpacks the kitchen things: coffee, water, and wine, breakfast ingredients, snacks. You meet him downstairs when you’re finished, and he is sitting out on the patio with two glasses of wine on the table in front of him. You feel a little like you’ve died and gone to heaven.

“You’re so good to me,” you tell him when you step out onto the deck. You intend to sit down in the chair across from him, but he reaches out, curls a hand around your forearm and guides you to sit in his lap instead. You wrap an arm around his neck, loosely drape the other over his chest, look up at his gentle face. “So very good to me.”

“All I want is to be good to you; I just want to make you happy,” he murmurs, and he leans in to kiss you—it’s a very specific type of kiss, slow and passionate, one that makes you crave his touch on your bare body, and you make a soft, needy sound against his mouth, pull back with a smile.

“What do you have planned for me in that beautiful, brilliant brain?” Aaron ducks his head, smiles a bit bashfully; you love that your compliments still affect him after all this time, quite partial to the shy, serious man who stole your heart in the first place.

“Well, I was thinking wine, clearly… maybe a soak in the hot tub? I turned it on, brought out some towels—did you happen to pack a swimsuit?” He smooths a hand over your hip, your ass, and you cling to him a bit more tightly.

“I didn’t, but that won’t stop from getting in that hot tub with you.” He looks confused, and you raise your eyebrows, give him a moment to let it sink in.

“Skinny dipping?” he says, looking simultaneously surprised and turned on by the prospect. You laugh softly.

“Yes. It’s private back here, no neighbors close by, and I think it would be a lot of fun. I won’t try to force you to join me, you know I won’t, but if I could convince you somehow, please let me know.” You brush your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, lean in for an unhurried kiss, slowly dragging your tongue along the length of his, and it’s clear he’s quickly convinced. He grips your thigh with a firm hand, moves the other to the back of your head to keep you close, keep you kissing.

He’s not always forceful, not always rough, but there’s no denying what it does to you when he grabs you a little harder, kisses a little deeper; you want to give yourself to him even more than you usually do, want him to do what he wants, take what he wants. You want to give him everything.

When he breaks the kiss, you press two more against his lips, then pull back and tug your sweater over your head. He runs a hand over your breast, squeezes through the fabric of your bra, then slides it up to wrap lightly around your throat. It’s tender but possessive, something else that never fails to drive you crazy; the first time he did it during sex you had an orgasm almost instantly, and there’s just something about having his broad palm and thick fingers there that makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck,” you groan, though it’s more like a whisper, and he moves his other hand to your pants, slips the button free, hovers. “Please, Aaron.” He flicks his eyes up, stares into yours, pulls you toward him for another kiss, and you moan against his lips. The moment he releases you, you shift up, out of his lap, and you push down your pants and panties, unhook your bra.

You’re both breathing heavily, especially when Aaron looks over your body like he hasn’t seen it a million and one times already, his gaze hot and lingering; you reach for him, and he stands, lets you get him out of his clothes too. It’s clearly a little uncomfortable for him to feel so exposed, even though you are in a private space, so you run your hands over him gently, press your lips against his body, whisper soothing words of encouragement and remind him that you can go inside whenever he likes.

The hot tub is in-ground, square, made of stone, and you both sink into the blissfully hot water with matching sighs; the night is warm, with a cool breeze, and you sit down next to him, let him pull you into his lap again. You smile, tug the hair tie off of your wrist and sweep your hair up into a high bun, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Not so bad,” you murmur, smoothing your hand over his chest, “is it?” He holds you close with a hand on your lower back, drags the other up your stomach, over your breasts. Your mouth falls open in a soft gasp, and he does it again, his rough palm catching your nipple, rubbing against it.

“Not bad at all.” You run your tongue over your lips, grind in his lap—he’s already hard, and you can’t blame him, feel like you’re halfway to a climax as is. This is extremely hot, and not just because you’re still surprised he even agreed to it. “I want to kiss you—just kiss you for a little bit. You’re not too turned on for that, are you?” You close your eyes briefly, sigh, because he clearly plans to torture you, drag out the foreplay; eventually, you shake your head.

“I’m not too turned on for that.” He hums, pleased, and then brings a hand to your throat again, pulls you in for a long, wet kiss. You roll your hips against his, slowly and sensually, and he moves his hands over your body, squeezes your ass hard with both of them. “Mmm. Want you.” He squeezes again and you grip his shoulders firmly, whimper. “Aaron.”

“Should I let you up? Or should I make you come right here in my lap?” he asks, and then he decides on his own, moves a hand between your legs and slides it over your pussy. You moan softly, looking down at him in a way you hope conveys your desire, your desperation; he seems to understand, holds your ass and pushes two fingers inside you, presses deeply. “Kiss me, baby,” he breathes, and you do, gasping against his mouth as he pumps his hand.

Your kisses are graceless, eager, and you ride his hand, weave your fingers into his hair to keep him close, to stay connected. Eventually you just breathe against his lips, unable to focus on even a messy kiss; he adds a third finger, watches your face like you’re mesmerizing as you get close, as if he hasn’t seen this look a million and one times too.

“I want you to come hard, I want to hear it. I want the neighbors we don’t have to hear it.” He smiles, just a little, and so do you, and then you kiss him with renewed fervor, slam down against his hand, water sloshing around you; you come moaning, gripping his shoulders hard, and he brings his wet hand up to hold tightly to the back of your neck, so you’ll make eye contact as you ride out the final wave of pleasure, clench around his fingers. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he groans, and you wet your lips, panting, lean in for another kiss.

“I want to blow you,” you speak over his mouth, earning a soft sound of desire, and he kisses you deeply once more before guiding you off of his lap. He moves up a step, so just his legs are in the water, and you climb between them, run your hands over his thighs. “Gorgeous too.” You look up at him, and he puts both hands on your face, pulls you in for a kiss; you grope at his chest, slip your fingers over the wet hair that trails down his stomach, then bite him there softly when he lets you go, leans back on his arms.

You wrap a hand easily around his straining cock, press the other against his thigh; his sharp intake of breath when you cover him with your mouth is enough to get you wet again, and you shift a bit uncomfortably—the stone is hard beneath your knees, the ache between your legs back in full force, but you would stay in this position for hours if that’s what Aaron wanted.

Now, though, he just looks like he wants to come, so you suck—tight, shallow, wet, strokes—and hum, working your hand with each dip of your head. “Oh, yes. So good,” he rasps, and he curls forward so he can run his hands down your back. It brings his body closer, his scrunched stomach brushing against your nose as you tilt your head up, and you whine, lift off of him, press open mouthed kisses to his stomach and chest, everywhere you can reach. “Fuck. Are you wet again, baby?”

“Yes,” you sigh, kissing him, touching him with your free hand—the other is still pumping his cock even though your mouth has abandoned it. “Touch me, please touch me.” He leans in a bit further, puts one hand on the back of your neck and one over your clit, rubs quickly and pulls you in for another hot, hard kiss. “Yes, touch me, Aaron, touch me.” You’re so eager for more—more pleasure, more of his pleasure—that you literally can’t stop talking, so you slide your mouth over him again just to occupy it, just so you don’t sound as needy as you feel.

“You’ll come for me again,” he murmurs, cupping your head with his broad palm—no pressure, just a reverent touch. “You’ll swallow for me, come for me; you’d do anything for me.” You would, you have no doubts, and you just hum your agreement, keep sucking until he groans, guides you off of him, to his lips. “Inside,” he mumbles through a kiss, and you take his face in your hands, deepening it, clinging to each other.

“You want to go inside?” you ask, breathless.

“I want to go inside… come inside you.” He puts his hands on your waist, urges you to stand, and you step out of the hot tub, take a few dripping steps over to the chair with the towels laid across it. You wrap one around Aaron, rub it roughly over his body; it starts as something sexy, but then it must tickle, and he laughs. You can’t help laughing when he does, and when he dries you off, you dissolve into giggles, wrap your arms around his neck and let him lift you, carry you into the cabin and toward the bedroom, pausing to grab the half-full glasses of wine before you go.

You set them down on the dresser, and he sets you down on the bed, hovers over you with a grin. He pushes your legs apart, wide on either side of his hips, and you surge forward for a kiss; he wraps his fingers in the sheets and pushes inside you, earning a short, high moan. You sink back against the bed, tilt your hips up, and he thrusts quickly, roughly, makes you sigh.

“Yeah, fuck, Aaron.” You curl a hand around the back of his neck, grip his forearm with the other, and grind up against him, watch his face as it shifts from determined to desperate for release.

“Won’t last,” he pants, and you shake your head, pull him down to your lips.

“Don’t have to. Just come, baby.” He groans, wraps his hand around the wooden headboard and uses it for leverage, slams hard into you; you fuck yourself against him, even harder when he comes, so eager to catch up, to meet him there. He leans in, face against your throat, fingers tight on your shoulder, and thrusts so deeply and roughly that your entire body tenses when your orgasm follows, and then you shake in his embrace while you catch your breath.

He brushes his mouth over your throat, your jaw, and you just lay together a moment, chests heaving, before he climbs off of the bed and grabs the wine. You both drink it down in one long sip, then laugh breathlessly once more, kiss again.

You get cleaned up, pull on pajamas, and Aaron builds a fire; you cuddle up on the sofa in front of it, drink enough wine to get a little tipsy, and talk and laugh, make out just to do it, with no end goal in mind. Time passes by slowly, and here, that’s perfect; you’d stop time if you could, spend the rest of your life warmed from the inside out with Aaron’s voice in your ear. The next morning, you wake up at a decent hour, make coffee while Aaron starts breakfast. It’s a bit chillier than the day before, so you wrap a blanket around your shoulders and take your coffee outside, look out at the forest and its silent stillness. Between Aaron’s work and yours, and now Sunny, life is rarely so peaceful, so quiet, and you just stand there and drink it in for a moment before Aaron comes out, clinking plates and silverware, disturbing your solitude in the most perfect of ways. You turn back, and he smiles, sets down your food, and you cross the deck, press a warm kiss to his lips, and sit down for breakfast.

The two of you get showered, dressed, and you drive to the national park to hike before it gets too warm; the trails range from easy to difficult, and you stick with something moderate, since you’re not very familiar with the park. The path you take is mostly dry, but lush and green, surrounded by thick trees and lots of plant life. Aaron, as it turns out, is quite the amatuer botanist, points out random flowers when he notices them, tells you their scientific names like a nerdy boy scout; it’s really very adorable.

“Baptisia australis—Blue Wild Indigo,” he says, pointing to a plant with small, light purple buds. “It’s a member of the pea family.”

“The pea family,” you repeat, taking care to step over a fallen log. He hums.

“I’m sure you know Indigo plants are used for dye, but indigenous people also use them in medicinal teas.” He takes another two dozen steps, kneels down to pick up a pretty golden-yellow flower that has fallen off of its plant. “Oenothera fruticosa—Southern Sundrops. Hummingbirds love them.” He turns to you, offers the flower, then a slow, tender kiss.

He moves on, tells you about at least ten other flowers along the path; you spend so much time smiling at his exuberance that your face is more sore than any other part of you by the time the hike is over.

You are ready for lunch, and a dip in the pool, and maybe a foot massage that leads to something more, but almost the second you walk in the door, Aaron’s phone rings. He looks down at it, then you, and you shoot him a soft smile.

Some things are just too good to be true.

He sighs, answers and brings it to his ear. You pass him, pat him on the back, and head to the kitchen to make some coffee to go.

“Hotchner. Yes, the family annihilator. Me specifically, JJ?” He looks over at you fondly as you pull a travel mug down from the cupboard, almost like part of him is surprised that you accepted his fate so easily, where the other part is very unsurprised. “We’re not far, but… No, it’s okay. I’ll be at the precinct in an hour. Thank you.”

“Family annihilator doesn’t sound good,” you say after he’s ended the call, stepped into the kitchen with you. “Do you have to travel?”

“It’s local, just an interrogation. We could be back here together by dinnertime.” He comes up behind you, runs his hands down your arms, leans in to brush his nose over your throat. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He sounds resigned, a bit sad, and though it’s inconvenient, it’s not something he should be beating himself up over. You knew what you were getting into when he had to leave in the middle of your third date to fly out for a case, and you’ve accepted that his work is unpredictable, and urgent, and important, would never make him choose between you or the job—because it’s not the right thing to do, but also because you’re fairly certain he would not be able to choose you.

“I know you will; you always do.” Your tone is not sarcastic or biting, but soft, and you turn your head, tilt it back to receive a warm kiss on the mouth. “You’d better get changed. Can I come along for the ride? You can stash me away in a corner at the precinct,” you say, following him upstairs; he’d packed a spare suit just in case something like this happened, and you know he wishes he could shower first, but there isn’t time.

He agrees easily, and you change your own clothes, slipping into dark jeans and a clingy black sweater, a pair of low-heeled boots. He gathers up his badge and gun, looks every bit the super special FBI agent you know and love—but he still smells like the forest, and a very large part of you is uncomfortably aroused by that fact.

You focus on that, and the thought of how he’ll make this up to you, for the entirety of the drive; Aaron is quiet, shifting gears into his calm, composed authoritative mode, but you can tell he’s aware of what you’re thinking, feeling, that it’s running through the back of his mind as well. When you arrive at the precinct, JJ is there, and you stand by quietly while she brings Aaron up to speed. Apparently a man has killed his estranged wife, children, and mother-in-law, and there is evidence, but a confession would speed things up considerably, and the district attorney has called in a favor to ensure that Aaron is the one to interrogate the man. He leaves you with a kiss on the cheek, and you and JJ make small talk before it dissolves into silence.

“Do you want to watch the interrogation? Two-way glass,” she says with a smile, and you are intrigued by the prospect. You’ve never seen Aaron in action at work before, or at least not in a way that’s any more exciting than filling out forms. She takes you to the large window, where you can see Aaron and the suspect engaged in tense conversation.

He opens up a file, spreads out photographs of what must be the man’s family; you can’t make them out, but they appear to be gruesome, if the concentration of crimson that covers the pages is any indication. The man doesn’t flinch the way you would expect, but Aaron seems to know where to proceed with that knowledge; he continues questioning him, and at one point he gets in the man’s face, shouts, and slams his hand on the table.

You can’t help it, you jump, and JJ reaches out to rest a hand on your shoulder.

“You okay? I know it can be intense,” she says, and you compose yourself, nod.

“Yeah I’m okay. I just… he’s never raised his voice to me. Not once in almost six years,” you muse; you’ve never thought much of it, because a man shouldn’t be yelling at his girlfriend, right? This isn’t extraordinary, just normal behavior, but it makes you feel something deep and moving anyway. You excuse yourself, head to the bathroom and splash a little cold water on your cheeks; by the time you return, Aaron is already out of interrogation, and he and JJ are smiling.

“That was fast,” you say when you approach, and JJ pats Aaron on the arm.

“Now you know why the DA pulled all those strings to get him here. He makes the BAU look superhuman.” He shakes his head, never one to take a compliment without putting up a fight, and they chat a little more before Aaron puts a hand on your back to signal that it’s time to go.

You look at your phone when you get into the car. Thirty-six minutes have passed since you turned it off on your way into the building.

You always kind of figured, but for the first time you can see for yourself: Aaron is kind of badass. You stop to have dinner on the way back to the cabin again, but this time there is less laughter and more lingering looks, soft, eager touches. The atmosphere between you is the same as it was in the car on the way to the precinct, the familiar tension between two people who want each other but can’t, or won’t, or are waiting to say it.

It makes you feel pretty good, that the two of you have this kind of chemistry after all this time.

When you get back to the cabin, you both undress, and Aaron suggests showering together in the master bathroom’s large glass shower. You agree, eager to put your hands on him, your mouth on him; the way you touch is exploratory, as if you haven’t done this countless times over the course of your relationship, as if you weren’t in a very similar position just last night. You wash each other, slow and sensual, but tender, and then dry off, and kiss, walk backward toward the turned-down bed.

“I want to take our time tonight,” Aaron murmurs as he hovers over you. You nod, lost in the haze of his hands on you, the smell of his soap, toothpaste, the feel of cool sheets beneath your back—these are sensations, scents, you are intimately familiar with, but they never fail to make your heart pound, your breath quicken in anticipation.

No one has ever made you feel quite so much, and even after almost six years, Aaron is capable of reducing you to your basic needs and emotions with just one sentence breathed into the space between you. He smooths his hands up your sides, over your stomach, and you’d swear time stops so the two of you can just be, so you can indulge in each other in a way that feels like going back to the beginning.

His hands move to your breasts and he squeezes them, watches your face as you react to the roughness, the pleasure, before leaning in for a hot, breathy kiss. “Mmm. Yeah,” you sigh, and he presses his lips to your throat, drags them slowly down your chest, encircles a nipple and sucks hard enough that your head falls back instantly and you moan his name.

“God, I love your body,” he tells you before moving to the other nipple. “So perfect for me.” Again, he sucks, then moves his mouth just a little to the left, bites down on your breast where you’re soft and sensitive; he sucks harder, so hard it hurts and you know you will be sore where he’s claimed you for days to come. It’s been a while since he’s done this, bruised you, covered you in bites, and he knows what it does to you, seems unsurprised when you wrap your hands around his arms for leverage and try to grind against him where he’s sprawled on top of you.

“Please, Aaron.” He groans against your skin, moves a hand to cover your pussy, lets you rub against it while he continues to lick and suck and bite until both breasts are covered in the aching, tender remnants of his kiss. You’re so close to a climax from just his mouth and your own desperate movements against the heel of his hand; when he brings his lips to yours, soft and wet, you run your hands over his shoulders and head, hips working, revel in the way your own pleasure is reflected in his face when you come.

“Fuck, baby; so good for me.” You stare up at him, panting as you try to come down, and he brushes fingers over your lips, down your throat. “Turn over?” You moan softly at his request, turn onto your stomach when he leans up over you; you spread your legs wide and he tucks his knees in behind yours, guides you back onto his cock with both hands on your ass.

You fist your hands into your pillow, work your body back against his thrusts; it’s not fast, or hard, but he knows exactly where to put his hands to drive you crazy, how to help you move. You moan together, both out of breath and quickly approaching orgasm when he pulls out, leans back against his heels.

“Mmm, come here, sweetheart.” He slides his hands under you, covers your breasts again, guides you to your knees, then shifts so you both turn, face the side of the bed, not the headboard. He presses his nose against your cheek, hooks one arm around your shoulder to tightly grip your breast in his hand, and you grab onto his arm, lean your head back against him. “I want you to watch, baby. I want you to see how gorgeous you look when you come on me.”

You lick your lips, and it’s only then that you realize he’s positioned you right in front of the full-length mirror by your side of the bed. Your eyes roll back in your head a little when you process the request—is he trying to wreck you?—and he huffs a laugh against your throat.

“Do you like that? Do you want to watch me move inside you?” You nod lazily, lean your back against his chest, and he presses his cock into you, thrusts smoothly but quickly. Your mouth falls open in a soft moan, and you rock against him, digging your fingertips into his arm.

It’s so erotic, watching the movements of your bodies—Aaron’s deep pumps of hips against your ass as he disappears inside you, your thighs flexing to keep up. He squeezes your breast, which still aches from the hickies he covered you with, and then that hand slides up to your throat and you can see the bruises in all of their rich, vivid glory. “Oh, fuck, Aaron.”

“It’s been a while since I got to take you apart like this; you’re so perfect for me, so beautiful. Covered in me, full of me.” He squeezes your throat softly, just enough pressure to draw your attention there, and you sigh.

“Yes, yes. Harder,” you breathe, and he pounds against you; you watch his face in the mirror, can see that he’s breathless, close, and you bounce roughly back against him, moan and come when he’s pressed exactly where you need him. He thrusts a few more times, right there, and you don’t stop coming, just clench around him and ride it out, watch both of your expressions shift when he loses it inside you. “Oh, god, yes.”

“Yes, baby, just like that. Just like that.” He snaps his hips hard, mouths at your shoulder, and you’re reduced to whimpers until he removes his hand from your throat, pulls your hair back away from your face, tilts your chin toward him for a kiss. “So good: did so good, felt so good,” he mutters against your lips, and you both kiss a little messy, soft. This one has left you both a little come-dumb, and you press back against him, spent.

“Mmm. I fucking love you,” you sigh, and you focus on him—and maybe a little on the mirror—when he rumbles a reply and slips you his tongue. You pick Sunny up from Derek’s the next day—she runs to Aaron first, no big deal, so you talk with Derek, thank him again for watching her on such short notice.

“I’m happy to take her any time, she’s a real sweetheart. Did you enjoy your getaway?” You nod, smile, sigh a little wistfully.

“Yeah, it was really nice. He promised me a beach vacation for our honeymoon, though, and I plan to sunbathe on an island so remote his cell phone is rendered useless.” You look up at him, slap him lightly on his bicep. “So get better at your job, will you? When he’s my husband I’m going to be much less lenient if my date night gets interrupted.”

Aaron looks up from his position on the floor, where he’s giving Sunny the belly rub of her life.

“When I’m your husband,” he says with a smile, and you roll your eyes, thank Derek again, and wrangle your family out the door.

Taglist 🤍 @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream @unicornprancing @uchihasteph @mugi-chwan95 @madamsnape921 @hxtchncr

[ahtsumu]

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu​! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving. 

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)

Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.

Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”

“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.

You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”

“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.

“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.

“What is Vormir?” She asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”

“The red room.”

“Do you remember getting out?”

“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.

“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”

“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”

“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”

“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”

“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.

“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”

You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”

———————————————————————

Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.

As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.

Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.

On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.

Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”

“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”

“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”

Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”

“A tower fell on me.”

“Of course it did.”

Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.

Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”

Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.

The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.

“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.

Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”

“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”

“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.

“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”

“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.

“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.

“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.

“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.

“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.

“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”

After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.

“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.

“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.

“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.

“Working on it now.”

The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.

“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.

“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”

“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”

“Good.” You bite back a smile.

Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.

———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.

You won. You. Won.

And you lost.

You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.

You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.

But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.

Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.

Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.

Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.

Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.

Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.

Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.

“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.

The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.

“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.

“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.

“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.

“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.

“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”

“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”

“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”

Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.

“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.

“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.

Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”

“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.

“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”

“I will,” you return the smile.

“I’ll see you around.”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.

“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.

Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.

“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.

“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.

You let out a chuckle.

“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”

“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.

“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.

“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.

“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“

“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.

You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”

“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.

——————————————————————-

Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.

She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.

The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.

That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.

Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.

Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.

You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.

After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.

“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hmm?” You turn to face her.

“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.

“I’m not-“

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.

“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.

Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”

“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“

“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”

Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.

“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”

Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me

If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!

[voxmortuus]

Tonight, I Make You Mine

PAIRING: Creature!Ateez Park Seonghwa x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Fantasy AU

WORDS: 3.4k

SUMMARY/PROMPT: It marks one year of a relationship with Seonghwa and he has a plan, a romantic plan, he wants to make you his in more than one way, he wants to show you what he is, he wants you to want him for all he was and he couldn't hide what he is to you anymore, and the way he shows you what he is, is a moment you will never forget in your life. In the end, you vow to spend the rest of your life with him.

NOTE: This is my first time writing anything like this. Please be kind to me, and I will absolutely take constructive criticism. I'm sorry if this is horrible! Also, there are links to some things such as outfits and the scent of the women's cologne and one other special surprise at the end.

TW: Tentai content including bondage | tentacle sucking | tentacle breast play | tentacle clit play | tentacle anal play | tentacle suction play | penetration with tentacles | Body fluids | Unprotected penetration | Internal Ejaculation | Short Male Receiving Oral | Oral Ejaculation | Male Masturbation | Mild Language | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this...

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

My Masterlist | Taglist

REQUESTS: OPEN

You never thought it would happen, falling for Seonghwa like this, but honestly, it was easy. He cherished every moment with you, he loved you to the moon and back, and at times you questioned if he just settled. You never wanted to keep him from what would make him happy. He did well for himself. He knew what he wanted in his life, and here you were questioning Seonghwa. With a loaded breath, you sat there looking at your phone when you see the date. Today was the day, a special day he told you to get ready for. Licking your lips, you push yourself off the couch and walk to your room.

You opt for a cute dark blue daisy printed summer dress, and you put your hair up with loose curls. You decide to go with soft makeup and his favorite, Jo Malone, Wood Sage & Sea Salt Cologne/Perfume. A coastal aroma that will transport the wearer to the shore, with sea salt that's infused with wood sage and a bit of citrus to create a unique fragrance that you can’t quite put your finger on at times. The opening is oceanic with sea salt but is given a typical aquatic partner with the grapefruit. It is so fresh and abyssal but dries down with a bit of sweetness and light woody undertones. Let's not forget the sage, which is a part of the opening but comes into its own later. He loved that scent on you, one of his favorites, and you make sure you keep stocked on it. It was one of the many things that attracted him to you.

Looking at your phone, you let out a small breath, and you begin pacing your shoes echoed in your home against your wood floors. You were anticipating him being here, and you were nervous. Today marked one year you had been with him, and tonight was a special night. Tonight was a night that you had been waiting for. A night he had been preparing you for, for what felt like a long time. He had it all planned, and you were anxious. It was almost like you were on edge. You had no clue how to respond to most things, and this was something you didn't expect at all. You were used to life throwing you curve balls, and today was going to be no different.

You look at the time and make your way outside; you just couldn't wait any longer. You had been pacing your living room for hours. When you got out there, you got there just in time to see Seonghwa pull up, so it was good timing. Making your way down the steps, you stand there as he gets out of the car. Looking over him, you bite your lip, your hand fidgets with your dress, he wore a black suit, and he looked so handsome, so perfect. You smile as he greets you with a kiss on your cheek. Smiling sweetly, again, you kiss him back and watch as he extends his hand to open the car door.

"Thank you Seonghwa." He smirks, nodding his head, and makes his way around to get in on his side.

Your nerves are getting the better of you. Seonghwa reaches over and places his hand on your thigh; looking over, you smile at him. You couldn't take the quiet anymore. You bite your lip and look over his profile and smile, god he was handsome, and there was just something about him you can't quite put your finger on.

"Seonghwa, where are we going?" You inquire.

"It's a surprise, Love." He smirks, and you bite your lip.

"But I don't do well with surprises." You give him a hopeful look that maybe he'll tell you.

He only chuckles, shaking his head, "No love, I'm sorry."

You give a tiny pout and fidget with your skirt while his hand grips your thigh a little tighter, almost telling you to not fidget. Your hands stop fidgeting, and he lets out a small chuckle; you look over at him and tilt your head and watch him a moment. He gives a side smirk and takes a turn. You weren't paying attention to really anything around you, so when he pulled into the parking lot, you looked around, and it was empty. Looking at the building, you smiled and got excited!

"The aquarium!? I've been wanting to go for so long! I'm so excited!"

"Well, I've been paying attention, and I just felt like this was the right place, that and I've got it so it's all ours for the night."

"Seonghwa! This is so... this is... perfect." You lean over and plant a kiss on his lips.

With a chuckle, he leaned into the kiss, and you both got out of the car. Locking it behind him, he places his keys in his pocket and takes your hand. Your heart sputters a bit like it always does. Walking beside him, it was like he towered over you. Walking to the entrance, he smiled and grabbed his keys from his pocket- he held the key in his hand a moment before finding the key to the door and unlocking it. You look at him in awe; you two really were the only ones here.

Walking in, he locks the door behind him after letting you in. Looking at you, he smirks. "Where do we go first?"

"Oh, Seonghwa, I have no idea. I want to see everything."

"Ok," He chuckles, "How about you follow me." He takes your hand and leads you down one of the dark hallways.

Looking around, you enter a tunnel of water, looking above at the blue above, you smile. It was so pretty, so calming. Your hand touches the glass as you step to it, seeing a school of fish in the distance and a shark above. Your heart pounds. You look at him and grin wide. You were like a child in a candy store, and you couldn't wait to see more.

As you two walk deeper into the building, you're in awe by what you see, the colors, the vibrance of it all. Seonghwa chuckles, letting go of your hand, watching you. He slips his hands into his pants pockets and tilts his head, watching you. His heart flutters watching you, the enjoyment he got from this was something he thought he would never find. Seonghwa was always the kind to seclude himself, isolate, and turn a blind eye to the things around him, and here you were, opening his eyes to everything around him. Because of you, he has come out of his shell, and if it wasn't for you, he would never want to explore. Because of you, he explores more. But tonight was special.

Getting to the middle of the building, he looks around and smiles at you. You turn around and notice a blanket in the middle under the dome of water. He smiles and looks at you.

"Y/N, there is something I want to ask you, something I want, and need. Something I want to show you."

You nod your head looking over his face. A little nervous you let out a soft breath.

"I've found who I am with you, I've found myself with you, Y/N. If it wasn't for you, I'd likely be in my house dwelling the day. I want to spend my life with you, Y/N. I want to love you and be with you every day. If you'd have me of course." He looks over your face.

Tilting your head, you step to him and place your hand on his chest and look over his face and give a smile and you look deep into his eyes. "Of course I will, Seonghwa."

"You may second guess, I'm not like other people, Y/N." He tells you.

"So? You understand me and I understand you."

"I don't think you understand. I'm different."

"Show me." You tell him looking deep into his eyes.

He looks you deep in the eyes and licks his lip. He wraps his left arm around you tightly. He lets out a soft breath and you feel this warm, wet, sticky thing wrap around your leg, you go to look down, but with his right hand, he takes your chin and keeps your eyes on him. The way it moves around your leg, feeling it inch, crawl, the suction you look over his face, and your eyes grow wide as it wraps around your thigh, inching its way up, stopping just before it gets to your sex. You let out a soft breath, feeling one on the other leg, but he keeps his hand on your chin, and you look deep into his eyes.

"I told you, I'm not like others..."

"What are you? What is this, that? What is on me?"

"Do you trust me, Y/N?"

"Yes, more than anything Seonghwa, but tell me what is this?"

"This is me... this is what I am. Do you want more?"

Without even questioning, you nod your head and look over his face. "I love you, nothing can change that Seonghwa." you whisper.

He looks over your face and kisses you deeply as the tentacles wrap around your leg tighter and slide up your leg a little further, one begins to play with your clit while the other runs itself along your lower lips. Biting your lower lip you let out a shaky breath and rest your head against his chin. "Tonight, I make you mine." He whispered tilting your head up and kisses you deeply. You return the kiss, deepening it, gripping at his coat lapels, and moan against his lips as the suction of one of the tentacle cups your clit and works at it almost as if it is sucking on your clit, the other tentacle gets excited about your wetness and starts to toy with the entrance of your sex.

You feel another tentacle making its way between your legs. Your lips against his your hands gripping his jacket, his arm wrapped around your waist and another around your throat holding you close you now have 4 tentacles between your legs, one toying with your clit, two massaging either side of your sex, and one playing with the wet entrance. Your hips move slightly. "Please... make me yours." you whisper against his lips.

A tentacle comes up slithering up your spine up the back of your dress and he looks over your face, and strips you of your dress, laying it on the floor next to you, the blanket beneath you both, surrounded by pillows, he looks over you, licking his lips he steps back a bit, watching as the tentacle wraps around you a couple times with another to make you sturdy, one slithers up your spine to the base of your neck, you look at him, watching them protrude from him, such beauty in such an odd way, the color, the pink, the purple, the blues and yellows, something so amazing. You watch him and look over his face. You hold out your hand, while one is wrapped around you under your breasts reaches over and slowly wraps around your arms, inching to your palm and places itself in your palm. You let out a small chuckle and look back at him, nodding your head.

The two tentacles that are wrapped around you lean you back, the two that are wrapped around your legs lift you off the ground. Your breathing picks up but you being to relax. You have 2 more tentacles reaching out to wrap around your arms while the others that are wrapped around you cup your breasts and begin to flick at your nipples, wrapping around them until they are hard and begin to play with them, while the tentacle playing with your wetness enters into you. You let out a gasp as it begins to inch into you further, you feel the way it squirms inside you, feeling the suction cups rub against you causing you to shiver and moan softly. Whimpering as the tentacle against your clit becomes more rigorous in its motions.

The two massaging the sides of your sex decide to join the one inside and they twirl together and plunge into you, moving in and out stretching you and massaging against your walls, the suction cups adding extra texture. You let out a soft moan, as he watches you, his cock hardens a little more, feeling the excitement. The hardness of himself restricts in his pants. He lets out a soft groan feeling what the tentacles are feeling which only excites him even more.

As the tentacles work your sex, penetrating as far as they felt they could go, stopping at your cervix you let out a heavy moan and ball your hands into fists. The tentacles work their ways, squirming inside you in and out the suctions gripping at your wetness as you moan louder they move faster.

"Oh Seonghwa, faster, please." You beg.

As you beg your breathing grows faster and he grows harder, he removes himself from his pants, grips his cock in his hand and begins to stroke himself. He lets out a soft moan licking his lower lip taking it into his mouth biting at it a bit. You watch him and you moan louder.

"Fuck." you whimper. The tentacles work faster pumping into you harder and faster. Your breasts being squeezed by the others and the others that are wrapped around you wraps a little harder while they spread your limbs a little further. Seonghwa steps closer to you and the tentacles lay you on the blanket and rest your head on the pillows, the tentacles work your body, playing with your senses as one wraps around your neck, he kneels in front of you and two tentacles remove themselves from your sex they wrap around your legs and the one that was left inside you removes itself and starts playing with your back hole.

Biting your lip you look over him as he strokes his cock faster, hovering in front of you as he kneels, your hips rise, almost encouraging him to enter you, he tilts his head and smiles, kneeling down he looks over you and he shoves his cock deep inside you, your hips buckle your back arches and at the same time, he plunges into you the tentacle playing at your back hole shoves itself into you at the same time, penetrating you to a whole other level. You let out a loud moan of pleasure.

With a loud moan of desire escaping his lips, his lips smash against yours while the tentacles play with your breasts, the others pulsate around your limbs, the other pumping in and out of your arse, and him pumping in and out of your sex you are in a state of euphoria, you're unable to collect your thoughts, your breathing picks up and you're close to a climax but you want all of the pleasure he can offer you.

"Good god, you feel so good, Seonghwa, your cock feels perfect, you're perfect. I'm all yours. My fuck I'm all yours!" You scream.

"All. Mine." He grunts as he feels himself close to a climax. Holding you tightly with his tentacles, he has one come up and wrap around your neck, gripping you as it pulsates and squirms almost massaging your throat as both he and his tentacle pump faster into you.

Moaning, you look over his face. "Harder... Please." you beg.

As he is happy to oblige to your request, he drives his cock and tentacle harder and deeper into you. Letting out a heavy moan you arch your back into him. Dripping with your own juices he feels them gush around his cock as he slams into you, feeling how wet you are the way you massage his cock with your walls he closes his eyes and takes a nipple into his mouth as his tentacle grips your throat tighter as they pump harder into you, your breathing and moans pick up faster, judging the volume and the speed and frequency of your moans he, himself grows closer to a climax.

"I want to feel you cum... so do they." He growls against your breast. Without questioning two tentacles enter you along with his thick hard cock. You let out a loud moan feeling yourself being stretched and you grip at the blanket. The tentacles wrapped around your arms hold your arms above your head and you let out a pleasurable scream. Without a second guess, another tentacle enters your back hole along with the other and you scream again. Your body shakes and quivers in pure pleasure. "Cum for us, Y/N!" He demands.

Without even a shadow of a doubt, your body releases all of what it could, shaking. Feeling you soak him and the tentacles, he lets out a heavy groan, gripping at your hips tightly, surely leaving bruises as he releases himself inside, you, pumping further. He didn't stop, nor did the tentacles. As they worked with him, the one around your throat started to massage a bit and he kept pumping, harder, faster, wanting another. "Again." He demands. Hovering over your lips, wanting to feel your breath, your body shook and gave another climax. He pulled himself from you and reached down watching the tentacles fuck you he stroked his soaking wet dripping cock.

The faster they moved the more they squirmed inside you the more you orgasmed, the harder he stroked. When your body started to shake you were unable to think straight, he hovered over you and the tentacle that was around your throat pulled your head up and you opened your mouth and he places his cock in your mouth as you begin to take him into your mouth. He grips your hair at the top of your head and fucks your mouth. Within a few moments he explodes in your mouth, like the good girl you are, you swallow every drop of him.

Slowly the tentacles pull from you, receding back to him, hiding, you look over his face as he kneels over you putting himself away, looking down at you. You bite your lip and you move in a way to stand in front of him, you pull his head to your stomach and hold him close.

"Seonghwa, I vow to you, right here, under the fish above, I am yours, I will have all of you, forever, for always. As long as you have me."

He looks up at you, standing, he leans over, and grabs your dress, sliding it back onto you, and smiles. "Forever, for always." He reached into the pocket of his suit coat and looks over your face and smiles, he wanted to wait. You smile taking his hand, looking around heading down another tunnel and you spot some octopi and smile wide. He stops and looks at you, getting down on one knee he looks up at you.

"Y/N, you've seen all of me, you've seen what I am, felt what I am, and didn't run, you've taken me for all I am, and now, I kneel here, before you, with one question. I vow to you, to be honest, to be true, and to be yours like you have done for me. Y/N I have one question... Marry me?" He looks over your face almost in the horror of being rejected.

You hear him, and you listen to what he says, your eyes close, your throat feels heavy, you let out a soft breath and turn around, "Seonghwa, of course, I will." You wrap your arms around him and hold him close. "I would be honored."

Not saying a word he pulls from you and places the ring on your finger, a special ring with a red cognac and black diamond with a tentacle band, special for you both. Smiling you admire it a moment and hug him again. Taking his hand he looks at your legs and chuckles watching his mess drip down your legs, licking his lips he smiles.

"How about we go back to my place, and you and I take a bath... and see where the night takes us from there." He chuckles.

Eagerly nodding your head, he picks you up and carries you back to the car forgetting about the blankets and pillows in the middle figuring he'd grab them tomorrow, he makes his way to the car and you two are off to his home.

[poge-life]

⚠️ obx² spoilers!

hii, idk if you're accepting requests for long smut stories at the moment, but I love 365 days so much that I instantly thought of you when I had this idea. Would you write an imagine based on that scene where Rafe is at Ward's closet (you can change the context if you want), and then the reader walks in when he's looking in the mirror and she leans against the door/wall saying something like "Looking good Mr. Cameron", but in a teasing way so it leads to smut ofc, you can choose how it happens, but with dom!rafe, basically the same energy as 365 would be fantastic! I love your writing 💞

I am so flattered that you thought of me to write this and i knew as soon as I read it, I had to write it. This does not take place during the 365 timeline, but the OBX timeline. Please do not read if you haven't watched Outer Banks or finished this season because this does contain spoilers for OBX2 beneath the cut.

Also, it took me fucking forever to figure out to get a clip of Rafe putting on Ward's jacket, so enjoy!

Summary: After needing space after everything that happened this summer, you decided to go and see Rafe, just not expecting him to look good in Ward's jacket

Warnings: OBX2 spoiler, smut, daddy kink, name calling, spitting, spanking, hair pulling, and angst towards the end if you squint.

This past summer was...eventful. To say the least. Rafe had asked you to spend the summer with him instead of going to Florida with your family like you do every summer. And of course, you said yes. Spend the summer in Miami with your family or stay in the OBX with your hot-ass boyfriend? That was a no brainer.

You just didn’t expect this summer to turn out the way it did. Topper and Sarah had broken up because she ended up with John B, the Pogue who worked for her dad, Rafe’s drug habit had gotten bad, his dad had decided he needed to get a job, Rafe ended up beating Pope Heyward up with a golf club, and then proceeded to try and beat the shit out of JJ at Midsummers, annnnd Sheriff Peterkin was dead.

Oh, and Sarah and John B were alive after getting lost in the storm that they were chased into by the police.

And the cherry on top was that Rafe was the one who shot Peterkin and his dad killed himself to keep Rafe from going to jail.

You had distanced yourself from Rafe for a while, needing a moment to process everything that had happened. You didn’t know what to do. Rafe had come to you after everything that had happened and told you he knew something was wrong with him. That he had all of these thoughts in his head that made him want to hurt people but he didn’t want to do it.

He had gone to Ward about it but as usual, he had brushed it off and told him there wasn’t anything wrong with him and that he was going to be okay.

You could tell something wasn’t okay with your boyfriend. Ever since Peterkin’s funeral, he had been acting differently. His movements were sluggish and he seemed to zone out a lot and he acted more impulsively. Well, more than usual.

He came straight to you once he found out that his dad had killed himself. And that was the first time you had ever seen him cry. He was scared of what he was going to do and didn’t know how to stop it. He wanted help but no one was willing to get him the help he needed.

So, you vowed to help him in any way you could.

Sarah had texted you and told you Rafe was having a hard time processing everything that had happened with Ward. She had told you that their father had left behind a video, explaining everything; how he killed Big John Routledge, stole gold from John B, and killed Peterkin.

So, yeah. You could understand how Rafe would have a hard time processing what was going on.

You parked your car, grabbing your phone as you made your way up the driveway of Tannyhill. Letting yourself in through the side doors that you knew they never locked, you made your way up the stairs. Taking the way you knew like the back of your hand at this point to Rafe’s room, you peeked in to see his room empty. Pushing the door open, you made your way to the bathroom, not seeing him there either.

Realizing where he was, you made your way to Ward’s room. The light from the lamp gave the room a soft golden glow. You saw shadow movement from the closet and slowly made your way over to it.

Rafe was standing in front of the mirror with one of Ward’s jackets on and you hated to admit it, but he looked good. Really good.

Your eyes raked up his figure from his reflection and you leaned against the door as you called out, “Looking good, Mr. Cameron”

Rafe turned to look at you in shock before relaxing when he realized who it was, “Hey.”

“Hi.” You softly said, making your way over to him. You stopped with just a few inches in between the two of you. You brushed your hands over the front of his jacket as you looked up at him through your lashes, “You do look good, Rafe.”

He turned back to look at his reflection in the mirror, “Really?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist from the side, “looking all professional. Really gets me going.”

Rafe couldn’t help the laugh that came out as he looked at you through the mirror, “Yeah? What about it, baby?”

You shrugged, running your fingers over the top of the band of his jeans, “Just thinking about you sitting behind a desk and in comes your beautiful girlfriend, hoping to distract you from all your hard work...only for you to get frustrated because you have an important client to work with so you have no choice but to bend me over your desk and take those frustrations out on me”

You let out a teasing sigh as you pulled away from him, “But then again, you’re just wearing a jacket.”

You barely made it a foot away from him before he tugged you back to him, his hand instantly finding its way around your neck, causing you to look up at him. He had a smirk on his face as his eyes roamed over yours, “good to know that even in your little fantasies, you know who’s in charge.”

“Who said it has to be a fantasy?” You whispered

And that’s all it took for him to snap.

Rafe leaned down and smashed his lips onto yours, tightening his grip around your throat, causing you to moan as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one of your hands going straight to his hair, giving it a tug.

You were so glad he had decided to ditch the hair gel and just leave it natural. You loved it that way.

Rafe pulled away, causing you to whine, “I want you in my room, naked on all fours. Do you understand?”

You had never been so glad to have his hand around your neck because you knew you couldn’t hold yourself up after what he just said to you.

You nodded but you should have known that wasn’t gonna fly with Rafe.

He shook his head, kissing his teeth as he titled your head up even more to look at him as he delivered a harsh slap to your ass, “C’mon baby. You know better than that. Use your words.”

“Yes sir.” You whispered, biting down on your bottom lip.

He released the grip he had on your neck as he nodded his head towards the closet door, “Go on. And I really wouldn’t test my patience right now if I were you.”

You all but scrambled out of the closet, making a beeline straight towards your boyfriends room. Kicking your shoes off by the door, you made quick work of the button on your shorts, pulling them down along with your thong, basically ripping your shirt in half to get it off, tugging off your bralette as you made your way to the bed.

You did as you were; on all fours with your ass in the air. You felt a little embarrassed at the situation, considering this was going to be the first time you guys fucked in the house with Sarah, Rose, and Wheezie home. But you didn’t care. You just needed Rafe. And you needed him bad.

You heard the door shut and the sound of the lock clicking in place.

Rafe stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on his bed. On all fours, just like he asked. He knew you were going to listen. You always did when it came to him.

He slowly made his way over to you, lightly trailing his fingers up the back of your leg, watching in satisfaction as goosebumps appeared. He grabbed your ass with both hands, kneading the flesh in both hands.He spread your cheeks apart and had to bite back a moan at the sight of your glistening pussy.

He knew you had gotten worked up earlier, but jesus, he didn’t know you were this worked up over him.

“You know why you’re being punished, don’t you, sweetheart?” He softly asked, ghosting his fingers over the place you wanted him the most

You had to fight the urge to moan at Rafe’s words, looking back at him over your shoulder, “No, sir?”

Rafe raised his eyebrow at you, “You have no idea why I’m punishing you? I suggest you think real hard.”

“I interrupted your work.” You mumbled, letting out a yelp from the hard smack he delivered to your ass, “You know I don’t like it when you mumble.”

“I interrupted your work.” You spoke louder, looking back at him once again, him nodding in agreement, “You did. And you know how I feel about that. You could have lost me an important business partner. But lucky for you, all I had to explain to him was that my girlfriend was a needy little slut who’s desperate for me to put her in her place.”

You couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips at his words. You loved his dirty mouth and he knew it too. Which is why he always took advantage of that fact.

Rafe let out a dark chuckle at hearing you moan, “Yeah? You like hearing that I have to tell people that I have to put you in your place because you're desperate for my cock? You like people knowing that you’re my little cock whore?”

You let out a whimper at his words, nodding your head, “Yes, I like people knowing I’m your little whore.”

“Good girl.” He smirked, slowly inserting a finger into your pussy, “Yeah, you’re my good girl.”

You pushed yourself back onto his hand, making his finger go deeper. Rafe quickly pulled his hand back, kissing his teeth, “You always seem to forget I’m in charge, baby. I thought you were my good girl?”

You quickly nodded your head, “I am. I am your good girl.”

Rafe shook his head at you, shrugging off the jacket, “See, I don’t think you are. Because good girls take what I give them. But you decided to be greedy and wanted more.”

“I’m sorry.” You said.

“C’mere.”

You moved from your position, turning to kneel in front of him on the bed. Your eyes raked over his appearance, lingering on his arms, because good lord, they look really good in that shirt (I am not kidding. I watched him put on the jacket an embarrassing amount of times just to watch his arms flex)

Rafe stepped directly in front of you, causing you to lean your head back a little bit to look up at him, noticing his eyes had gotten a shade darker. He dragged his hand up the front of your body and you shivered from the feeling, Rafe smirking at the reaction.

He rubbed his thumb on your bottom lip, pupils blown as he watched you take his thumb into his mouth, lips wrapping around it as you sucked on it, going down to the knuckle.

“Fuck me.” He let out, causing you to release his finger with a pop, nipping at the top of it, “Then fucking do it, Cameron.”

Rafe reached for the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head as you worked on unbuttoning his pants, tugging them down and tossed his shirt to the side, kicking off his jeans as you rubbed your hand over his cock.

You hooked your fingers on the top of his calvins (you can’t tell me that both Drew and rafe aren’t the type of guys to wear Calvin Klein), slowly tugging them down, not breaking eye contact. Rafe kicked them off the rest of the way as he tangled his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back.

“Open.”

You smirked as you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out as Rafe leaned down to spit in your mouth. You closed your mouth, swallowing before showing him.

“Good girl,” he smirked, “back on all fours, baby. You know how I want it.”

You nodded as you moved your body back into the position you were in only minutes ago. Except this time, you were facing the mirror that was attached to his dresser. You watched with your heart racing as he kneeled behind you on the bed, stroking his cock, never taking his eyes off your pussy.

You leaned down so your chest was on the bed, back arched, with your ass in the air, just how he liked it. Rafe ran the tip of his dick up and down your pussy, collecting your arousal, making it easier for him to slide in, not like that has ever been a problem before.

He didn’t even give you a heads up as he slammed into you, causing you to let out a loud moan as he quickly set the pace. Going slow but bottoming out at a hard pace. Just the way you liked it.

“Fuck, baby,” He moaned, grabbing onto your hips, throwing his head back, “you always feel so good.”

You threw your hips back against him, causing him to stop, holding you tight against him, a vice like grip on your hips, “what did I just fucking say? Good girls take what I give. But you’re not one. You’re a needy little whore.”

He leaned over your back, wrapping his hand around your throat, pulling you up so you were flushed against his chest.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered, both of you making eye contact in the mirror, “you go from this sweet girl in public to my little slut as soon as I touch you.”

“Please.” You begged, wiggling your hips against his, causing him to let go of your waist only to bring his hand back down on your ass. Hard.

“Please what, baby?” He teased, smirking at the way you leaned back into him.

“Please fuck me.” You begged, wrapping your arm around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Please fuck me, what?” He teased, tugging on your ear, waiting for you to say the word so he could give you what you both wanted.

“Please fuck me...daddy.” You whimpered, leaning your head back on his shoulder, turning to leave kisses on his jaw.

Rafe turned his head to the side to pull you into a bruising kiss. Teeth clashing, spit dripping down your chin. It was hot. Rafe pulled away, pushing you back down on all fours as he pulled out so just the tip was in before pushing back in hard.

You let little moans and whimpers at the brutual pace he was going. And you knew it was all the frustrations he’s built up these past few weeks.

Rafe leaned forward and tangled one of his hands in your hair, tugging your head up to make you watch in the mirror. He had a light coat of sweat on his skin and his hair was messed up from you running your fingers through it.

“Such a good girl.” He moaned, pulling you up so you were flush against his chest again, “C’mon baby. You want this dick so bad, fuck yourself on it.”

You moved your hips back at a fast pace, locking eyes with him in the mirror as he leaned down to press wet, hot kisses on your neck. You pulled away from him and turned to face him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled his head down to bring him into a kiss.

Rafe leaned forward, causing you to lean backwards, moving so you were laying flat on the bed with him hovering over you. Rafe wrapped one of your legs around his waist as he moved to push back into you. You both let out a loud moan at the feeling of being connected again.

You pulled Rafe down for a kiss as you wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails into his back. He pulled away, placing both of his hands next to your head, not breaking eye contact with you.

You see just how much he was hurting just by looking at him. And it made your heartbreak. He was never one to ever show his emotions but after everything that happened this summer, you knew he was slipping through the cracks. And it was only a matter of time before he broke.

You tightened your grip around his waist as he sent a hard thrust that spot that had you letting out a loud moan. Rafe smirked at you and did what every guy was supposed to do when this happened, just keep doing it. He kept the same angle as he leaned down and buried his face in your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

“Fuck Rafe.” You dragged your nails down his back, causing him to let out a groan at the feeling.

“C’mon, baby,” he leaned up, brushing his lips over yours, “you know what you need to do if you wanna cum.”

“Please make me cum,” You whimpered, tugging on his hair, “I wanna cum.”

“Yeah?” He spoke, “You wanna cum?”

You nodded, leaning up to press your lips to his.

He pulled away, pulling out of you, causing you to let out a whine at losing the high.

“Ride me.” He said, laying down next to you. You quickly climbed ontop of him, his hands sliding up your thighs and to your hips. You reached inbetween the two of you and rubbed the tip of dick along your pussy before sinking down on him.

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned, throwin your head back. You placed your hands on his chest before slowly moving up before sinking back down again. Rafe tightened his grip on your waist, his eyes never leaving your chest.

Even after all this time, your tits were still his favorite thing. And he kept his word and somehow managed to find bars with an ‘R’ on them. And of course, there were many pictures taken that night as he could barely keep his hands off of you.

Rafe leaned forward and attached his mouth to your tits, his hand going up to grasp the other one, kneeding it between his fingers. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing yourself closer to him, moving your hips back and forth.

Rafe pulled away from your tits, looking up at you as you looked down at him, just keeping eye contact for a while. He leaned back on the bed, causing you to lean forward with him, placing your chest directly on his as he placed his feet on the bed, driving his dick into you at a fast pace.

He let out a moan at hearing your whimpers in his ear, nails digging into his skin. He turned his head to the side and pressed his lips to yours, not once faltering in his pace. He felt you tighten around him and pulled away from the kiss, “Shit, baby. You’re squeezing the fuck out of me.”

“I wanna cum,” you begged, leaning forward to place kisses on his neck, “Please make me cum, daddy.”

How he could he not give you what you wanted when you begged for him like that?

He flipped you both over, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he fucked into you at a brutual pace. All that could be heard was the sound of skin slapping on skin and the occasional moans from the both of you.

Rafe placed a kiss on your ankle as he watched you play wih your tits, squeezing them in your hands. He felt you tighten around him once again and licked his thumb before bringing it down to rub your clit.

Your back arched off the bed as his thumb moved in circles, bringing you closer to the edge. You grabbed onto the sheets, closing your fist around them as you felt the knot begin to grow in your core.

“You wanted to cum,” Rafe growled, thrusting hard after each word, “So cum.”

And that’s all it took for the knot to snap. You let out a loud moan as your legs shook around his shoulder, gripping the sheets tighter in your fists as Rafe never stopped the brututal pace he was going at, chasing after his own release.

His hips faltered as he began to slow down as he felt his cock twitch, shooting out his cum as he began to catch his breath.

Rafe pulled out, causing you to let out a quiet moan at the feeling as he laid next to you. You turned to look over at him, watching as his chest moved at an irregular pace. You shot up as you looked closely at his face, noticing the tears that built up, looking for a chance to escape.

“Rafe…” You spoke in a quiet voice as he sniffled, looking over at you. His lip quivered as his tears started to fall. You scooted closer to him, pulling him into your embrace, wrapping your arms around him as he buried his face in your chest, tightening his grip around your waist, letting out sobs.

You looked up at the ceiling as tears of your own began to show up, placing a kiss on his head as you rubbed his back, “It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

But both of you knew that it wasn’t going to be okay.