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sometimesanalice · 1 year ago

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Give Me Your Hand {Here Is My Heart}

Summary: You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to be in Bradley Bradshaw’s bed, and now you finally get to find out. (Spoiler: It’s even better than you could have ever imagined.)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K+

Warnings: so much smut with a side of fluff (Minors DNI)

(This is a 2-Part series for the “Like I Can” Universe. However, it can be read on its own!) Read Part 1 here!

“Well, are you coming?”

You are two lace trimmed bits of cotton away from being naked, and you can feel his heated gaze traveling over your body as you walk towards his stairs with a teasing sway of your hips.

If you had known you were going to end your night shimmying down your little red dress in front of Bradley, you might have tried to wear something a bit more underneath it, just for him.

But there was no missing the intensity and the desire that was in his eyes as he had watched you strip before him. It was more than clear that liked what he saw.

The appreciative way Bradley was looking at you made your everyday underwear feel sexier than La Perla ever could.

You don’t get very far before your whole world tilts as you’re lifted off the ground and tossed over his broad shoulder.

“Oh my god, Bradley! Warn a girl.” The sound coming out of you part gasp, part laugh.

“Heads up, kid.” There is no missing the smug smile in his voice, as he grips you a little tighter.

You’re dangling behind him trying to support yourself on his lower back, a useless endeavor since every step he takes up the stairs only serves to make you lose your grasp.

“Are you sure you got a strong enough hold on my ass there, Bradshaw?” you complain flippantly.

You wiggle a little trying to alleviate some of the pressure on your stomach.

“Stop trying to distract me,” he grunts, digging his fingertips further into the fleshy muscle in a way you didn’t mind at all. “I’m carrying some precious cargo.”

He tops off the end of his sentence with a light swat of his hand on your other cheek like he would a cherry on a sundae. And you have to bite your lip to keep from making the noise that was trying to crawl it’s way out of your throat, one that would give away just how much you liked his strong hands on your ass.

Bradley stops at the first door on the left and bends a little as he eases you off his shoulder. You lean back against the wall watching self-indulgently as he straightens up in front of you.

There is nothing subtle about Bradley Bradshaw. Not the commanding way he enters a room. Not the force of his energetic smile. Not the powerful build of his body. And definitely not the way he is checking you out.

It’s your first time being up here, there’s never been a reason to come upstairs before. You can’t help but wonder if the spaces here have the same sense of functional practicality as his downstairs does. Everything has a purpose, but nothing has much of a personality.

And Bradley has the best personality.

Maybe if you ask nicely he will let you help him pick out some things to make his place feel more like a home. More like him.

Reaching out you thread a finger through one of his belt loops and tug him closer to you. Bradley grins as he comes to crowd you against the wall before leaning in to kiss you, his warm hands coming up to frame your face.

For the other men you’ve dated in the past, kissing was a means to an end. A mandatory part of foreplay to perform in order to speed things along. But with Bradley, he kisses you with a type of single-minded determinedness that always sends your heart racing.

He has never been the type to do anything half-heartedly. Kissing is the agenda. It is the main course. He is happy to take his time to savor the taste and feel of you. He’s not thinking about how quickly he can move on to the next thing. He kisses you like he couldn’t dream of doing anything else.

You have never felt so entirely treasured in your life as you do right now outside of his bedroom in his arms.

It’s hard to fight back the smile that makes it impossible for him to keep his lips on yours, and when he pulls back the look on his face is nothing short than pure fondness.

“I’m excited to have you like this,” you admit to him, soft and sure.

It would be a new first, a new moment, a new memory. His and yours alone.

“Yeah?” he asks with a gentle smile quirked to one side. “I am too.” He settles his hands on your hips, his thumbs skimming over the skin at right above the waistband of your panties. “We go at your speed, sweet girl. As much or as little as you want. Whatever you want is what I want too.”

“And if I want everything?”

“Then I’ll give you everything,” he promises, pulling you close to get his mouth on yours again. You could taste the unspoken always in his kiss.

There was still a small part of you that was nervous about what feelings could come up in the after, the worry that bittersweet what-ifs could color all of your perfect memories with him. But you were done with not letting yourself have everything you want with him.

And with one more indulgent kiss to his lips, you take his hand and lead the way into his bedroom.

Bradley lingers near the door as he watches you take in his bedroom. One could call it snooping, but he knew you’d have some other smart-assed term for it.

He had been able to tell that something was on your mind for a while. And the last thing he wanted to do was put pressure on this new thing between the two of you by making you talk about it before you were ready.

You had always been in his life, but when you moved to San Diego after living separate lives for over fifteen years, he couldn’t deny that it felt different being around you again. In a good way, in the best way.

And those terrible dates you went on had made him come to terms with his feelings much earlier than you. Bradley knew exactly what he wanted with you, and he would give you all the time you needed to get there too.

He is amused, but not surprised, when the first thing you do is go to investigate is his bookshelf. Your fingers skimming the spines as you read over the titles.

It’s mainly a collection of NATOPS manuals he’s memorized inside and out from the aircrafts he’s been trained to use and other technical handbooks, along with his old collection of the Hardy Boys, a few political biographies and mystery novels he hasn’t had the chance to read yet.

He had felt like such an idiot when he made that joke about sleeping with the enemy in your car on the way to the surprise movie date you had planned for him. He hadn’t missed the way your body had tensed up. Or how you would always pull back and stumble over some flimsy reason why you had to call it a night when things would get on the exciting side of too heated or too physical.

He knew that you would come around to telling him what was holding you back on your own time, he just didn’t expect it to be after you had come in his lap from rubbing yourself on him in that sinful dress of yours.

The one that taunted and tempted him from the second he had opened his door that night. The one now a heap somewhere on the floor of his living room.

“So why do men love bitches, Bradley?” The question shakes him from his musings.

You turn to him with a mischievous smile painted on your pretty face as you gleefully show off the book that he had completely forgotten about like you have hit the jackpot.

“How do I still have that?” He huffs a laugh crossing towards you, leaning on hip on his desk to get a closer look. “Nat give it to me after I broke up with my ex a few years ago, they never got along. She even drew some red flags on the paper she wrapped it in when she gave it to me.”

“Ah, that explains the inscription. ‘Know the playbook, so you don’t get played again.’” you read with a snort. “For what it’s worth, I never liked Paige either. She was always seemed like such a shit-stirrer. Good thing you came to your senses. He’s pretty and smart, folks.” You send him a playful little wink before you go back to your investigation of his room.

It’s not even a contest, you are his absolute favorite person in this world.

And you look so perfect, so real in your nude bra and white panties in his bedroom. He likes that this wasn’t planned, that he gets to have you so authentically. He wants you just as you are.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he can’t help but wonder a little self-consciously what his space must look like to you through your eyes as you wander around.

His room is a mismatched collection of furniture that people have passed along to him over the years. Stuff that others didn’t need or that they upgraded from to something newer and better. Everything else that wasn’t donated to him were easily assembled things from IKEA.

He didn’t mind it in here, but he’s also never particularly liked it. It’s always just been a place to sleep.

He has his sturdy wood bed frame against one wall, it creaks sometimes when he turns over but he that’s what he got for putting it together after a few of beers. There is large print hung above it so the wall wasn’t totally bare. Next to his bookcase was a desk and small filing cabinet. He has a spare room in his condo that he has been meaning to turn into an office, but this set up was familiar to him after so many years of living in the barracks.

But if you were going to be here with him, Bradley wanted you to be comfortable in his home. Maybe he could find a few new things for the room to make it nicer, cozier for you with stuff that wasn’t other peoples’ cast offs.

There was only one nightstand for fuck’s sake, which is where he watches you linger in front of now.

“Wait, Bradley. Is this…” you trail off, picking up the framed sheet music from his nightstand. Your finger traces over the upper righthand corner in the exact spot where he knows three vibrant blazing fireballs decorate the page.

Hand-drawn by a ten-year-old you.

They were overly cartoonish in the way that most kids’ drawings were at that age. But it was obvious you had spent time on it for him by the way the reds, oranges, and yellows of your colored penciled artwork had been perfectly blended.

“Yeah.” He has to clear his throat, “Yeah, it is.”

“I can’t believe you still have this,” you say quietly.

You had given him the book of sheet music that included his favorite crowd-pleasing song to play on the piano for his twelfth birthday. He had had the notes memorized for almost a decade before he had put it in a frame, he had wanted to have this reminder of home with him instead of sitting in a box somewhere.

Other than the mounted toy fighter jet his mom had given him, it was the only thing that he had always taken with him as he moved around the world from base to base.

He thought he had seen every expression that’s ever crossed your face, but you have never looked at him like quite like this before. Your face is filled with such tenderness and something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Well, you know what Marie Kondo says about things that sparks joy,” he jokes light-heartedly, trying to find his footing again.

“Is there anything else in here that sparks joy in here?” You put the frame back down, observing him with your head tilted to the side as you sat on his bed and leaned back on your hands. It did amazing things to your chest.

“I can think of one or two things,” he says, playing along. You look so perfect in his bed, it was going to feel too big without you in it now.

“Are you going to come join me? Or do you just want to keep on checking out my breasts from over there?” you ask teasingly, pushing yourself back further on top of his bed. Your feet are resting on the edge, knees knocked together swaying enticingly from side to side.

You are easily the prettiest thing in his room.

Bradley takes his time as he saunters over to come join you at the bed. But when he comes to stand at the edge of the mattress, you stop him with a dainty foot to his chest.

“That’s bold of you to assume you this is a clothing permitted establishment,” you say popping up onto your elbows, applying a bit more force to where you’re pressing into him.

“Is that so?” he hums. Wrapping his hand around your ankle, he lets his thumb circle over the rounded joint there. “You know you’re in my room, in my bed, right?”

“Mm-hmm. I’m very aware. I like how it smells like you in here.” He watches as your hand makes indistinguishable shapes on the top of his linen duvet, “I’ve got to say, I’m pretty sure I’ve the best view in the house right now.”

He rakes his eyes over your figure, “Hm, think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“You might be right,” you tell him cheekily, “My view could be so much better if you’d take some clothes off.”

“You sayin’ you want a show, kid?”

“I wouldn’t say no to one, if you are offering,” you say stretching like a satisfied cat. And there are those dimples of yours. If only you knew how just how gone he was for them.

“I can give you a show.” His voice is whiskey smooth as he squeezes your ankle.

Bradley holds your hot, greedy gaze as he removes his watch and sets it down on the nightstand. The way he undoes the buttons on his shirt could almost be called lazy if it weren’t for the purposeful way he watched your every shallow breath, as he listened to your unsteady exhales.

He has to tap on your foot to remind you to lift it off of his chest so that he can take his shirt off. You rest that foot high on his thigh instead, dangerously close to his quickly hardening cock. And then he is tugging his shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind him.

The fabric of his comforter is clenched tight beneath your fists.

Reaching behind his neck he grasps the collar of his tank, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion making sure that his biceps and abs are flexed for your benefit. If you wanted something to look at, he was going to give you an eyeful.

He lets out a satisfied sound as lets his hand indulgently, leisurely trail down his chest, down his abdomen as he watches you steadily. There is no reason for him to hold back his proud smirk when sees the way your lips part as he reaches the top of his jeans.

“How am I doing?” he drawls knowingly.

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he languidly unbuckles his belt.

“Good. Yeah, very good.” He sees the way you swallow hard as he begins to pull it out from his belt loops. The thick tension building between the two of you has his pulse pounding.

He likes the desire he sees reflected in your eyes as you take him in, “I’d leave you at least four-stars on Yelp.”

Bradley lets his belt fall to the floor, it lands with a satisfying clunk. Your eyes fly to his at the sound.

“Mm, only four-stars? Such a tough critic,” he muses lightly as he casually runs his finger up and down your calf. “What’s a guy gotta do to get five?”

You’re devouring him with your eyes and he wants to take over the way you’re nibbling on your lower lip with his teeth. “Drop the denim, Bradshaw.”

“You’re right, it’s only fair,” he concedes, admiring the way your nipples are raised against the cups of your bra. He teases a finger under the black elastic band that is peeking out from over the top of his favorite jeans, “I’m telling you now that what’s under these isn’t anywhere as pretty as what you’ve got on.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much,” you say as primly as possible given how affected you are, pressing your foot harder into the muscle of his thigh. “Plus, I think you’re plenty pretty.”

God, he loves that he gets to have you like this.

That even when you’re both half naked and riled up you can still banter with each other. That he can still make you smile and you can still make him laugh all while the undercurrent of need pulses around you.

“Bradley, come on.” The hint of whine that accompanies the way you say his name goes straight to his cock. He wouldn’t mind hearing you beg sweetly for him sometime, but not tonight.

He was going to give you whatever you wanted.

“Patience, sweet girl. I’m putting on a show here, remember?” he tells you with a playful grin as he bends over your body to kiss you deeply. Your legs part for him and come up to hug his hips. When he pulls away after a few moments you move to sit up, chasing the feeling of his mouth on yours. But he puts a hand to your sternum pressing you back down onto his bed with his fingertips before standing up to his full height above you.

The silence in the room is deafening as he unbuttons the top of his jeans. And then he is slowly pulling his zipper down for you.

Your heart is hammering as Bradley peels off those form-fitting jeans of his strong legs.

His body is a work of art. You could stare for hours and still find something new to admire. From the rounded definition of his shoulders, the smattering of chest hair between his full pectorals, the ridges and valleys of his abs, to the v-shaped muscles that lead your eyes directly to the outline of his hard, thick cock that you’re getting an up-close look at for the first time.

It looks as good as the rest of him does.

“Good god,” you groan, covering your eyes. “Honestly, Bradley?” The sound of his deep, warm chuckle has you pulling your hands away from your face, he is clearly amused by your reaction. “Be serious with me right now, that is totally how you got your callsign, isn’t it?” Gesturing to his sizable cock with a wave of your hand.

“I’ve told you that story before,” he tells you as he climbs on the bed and settles next to you.

“You’ve told me a story, but I’ve never believed it.” You turn on your side to fully face him, throwing one of your legs over him as nonchalantly as possible, as if it was totally normal to be half-naked in his bed with him. “‘I was just the only morning person on my squad’,” you say lowering your voice mimic his, “I don’t buy it. Not to mention, Natasha always made a face whenever you told that version to someone who was flirting with you.”

“Fine, you really wanna know?” he asks as he squeezes your hip. His cheeks are already lightly flushed, and now you’re downright giddy about this new development. It’s not often you get to see him so bashful around you.

“I knew you were withholding important information from me, Rooster,” you trill.

He grunts something unintelligible before he has you gasping when he grips your thigh and rolls over, pinning you underneath him.

And oh. You like the feel of him pressed against you.

There is something comforting about the weight of his hard, sunkissed body as he relaxes more fully on you. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he was built but the sheer sturdiness of him and how he fits with you like this is so good it’s dizzying.

He really is so handsome. With his face this close to yours, you can see every shade of brown in his pretty eyes. You bring a hand up to his face, letting your fingers brush over the coarse hairs of his mustache.

“Don’t think that just because you manhandled me, that you’re off the hook here. I’m not so easily distracted.” It’s a lie, but you think you pull it off well.

“Ok, ok,” he relents, kissing your fingertips then guiding your hand around to the base of his neck. “There are usually two versions of the story that pilots will tell, the one that makes them look good and the one that actually happened. But most pilots get their callsign from doing something stupid or screwing something up.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” you say with a teasing grin. “Which category do you fall in?”

“Believe it or not, both,” he admits ruefully. A small boyish smile on his face.

“Oh, I believe it,” you beamed.

“So,” he continues, with a fond shake of his head, “There was a girl I used to hook up with in my squadron. We had a friends with benefits type thing for a while when we were first deployed.” That made you scrunch you nose, he chuckles leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But she was always, uh, loud. Especially when I would go down on her.” He says that last part in a rush, almost like he is trying to gloss over it.

It wasn’t a secret to you that Bradley had gotten around, you had heard the whispers when you visited him at UVA and in the bathroom at the Hard Deck when you had first moved here. And it wasn’t like you had been sitting on your couch knitting like some Jane Austen spinster, you have had your fun too.

“Mmm-hmm.” You stroke his leg with your foot encouraging him to continue.

He is entirely adorable in the way he full-blown blushing now as he tries so hard not to fidget, even as his fingers idly play with the strap of your bra.

“We were fooling around early one morning after she has stayed over. Which I am sure you can guess, that kind of socializing was very much frowned upon,” he allows with a sheepish dip of his head. “As it turned out, one of the Petty Officers decided to do a surprise barracks inspection that morning. And, uh, well, we didn’t hear his arrival and the announcement or any of the noise in the hallway-”

“Because you’re good with your mouth,” you gleefully interject.

“You said it not me, kid,” he says nudging your cheek with his nose. You are grinning so wide now because he is getting so flustered as his story goes on. “So fast forward to us getting caught in the act. They let her run back to her own barrack, but I had to stand there at attention for the whole inspection in my boxer briefs with a hard-on.

The mental image of that was equal parts amusing and appealing, especially after the show he just gave you.

“And since my clothes were still on the ground from the night before, I got an auto-fail for having gear adrift. They even called in some of the guys from my unit to double check the inspection results and make an example out of my, um, indiscretion. After that, well, Rooster stuck.”

“I knew it!” you hoot before bursting into a fit of laughter. “I knew there had to be an X-rated reason, you dirty bird. Oh my god, Bradley! No wonder why Nat can’t keep a straight face.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he chuckles good-naturedly, his eyes crinkling in the corner. “There you have it, that’s the whole story. And just so you know, it is literally on the record that I was an early riser when I got written up for it. So technically that part is true.”

“In more ways than one,” you titter with a lewd wiggle of your eyebrows.

He looks up to the ceiling and groans, “How long are you going to tease me about this, kid?”

You make a big show about doing the math in your head until he nips at your collarbone.

“Probably for as long as you’ve had your callsign, I’ve got a few years to catch up on. It’s only fair since you lied to me, your best friend, for so long. I’m wounded,” you lament unconvincingly.

“I had an image as a responsible adult to maintain.” That makes you snort as you wrap both of your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you.

You half-heartedly roll your eyes, “I’m only two years younger than you.”

“Mm, that makes you the baby here,” he hums against your neck. “Wasn’t gonna give you the full version back then, not when you had such impressionable ears.”

His body is so warm, so solid against yours. And his thigh is pressing into the center of you. You’re surprised how quickly he can go from making you laugh to making you squirm.

“You know what I don’t get?” you muse tugging on his curls.

He runs mustache along your neck, “Enlighten me.”

“Why would they punish you when they could have just made you pose for the cover of a Navy pamphlet? Seems a little shortsighted, if you ask me,” you quip, a bit breathlessly. “I mean, they’d be turning down new recruits left and right. Everyone would be so inspired to serve their country. Propaganda with a side of eye candy.”

Bradley pinches your waist, making you yelp and rock against him. He sucks in a sharp breath at the contact. The mood shifting instantly from playful into something else entirely.

“You like what you see, huh?” He shifts his weight into his arms, lifting up a bit. Not only do you have a stellar view of his abs now, but also of his defined biceps by your head.

“Are you fishing for compliments, Rooster?” You glide your fingers along the crests of his ribs.

“I don’t mind getting my ego stroked every now and then.”

“What about other things?” you murmur, sliding your hand in between your bodies to grasp him through his boxer briefs.

He groans your name before claiming your mouth for a hot kiss.

“Come on, Bradley. I want the full experience,” you pant against his lips, “I heard how the girls talked about you.”

“I’ve learned a few more things since then,” he rasps, grinding himself more fully against you.

“Good, I’d hope so. Now, show me.”

Show me. Show me. Show me.

He can’t keep his mouth or hands in one place for too long. He wants to taste you everywhere. He wants to touch you everywhere.

You are looking at him with such open want. Your pupils blown wide, your lips kiss-swollen. He was unprepared for just how perfect your body would feel under his. You’re so beautiful spread out before him on his bed. Green might be his favorite color on you, he was biased, but you looked stunning pillowed against his navy duvet.

He had told you he’d give you anything you wanted and he meant it. If you wanted the full experience then he was going to give you the best damn time of your life.

Bradley licks his lips before lowering his head back down for a kiss, moaning at the slide of your wet, soft lips against his. He loves the sound your needy whine as you cant your hips against him.

You tilt your neck to the side giving him more room to get his mouth on the delicate column of your throat. The smell of your perfume and shampoo makes his blood thrum in his veins. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this desperate for someone in his life as he is for you.

He slips his hand around your ribcage and under you, groaning when your breasts rub against his chest as you arch into him. He runs his fingers along the band of your bra feeling for the little clasps that are preventing you from being bared before him.

After the third pass he makes, you pull away from his mouth with a little grin, “Bradley, it’s a front clasp”. Taking pity on him you guide his hand to the shiny little closure resting in the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles self-deprecatingly toying with it for a second before asking, “You mean to tell me this is both pretty and functional?”

Your giggle turns into a whimper when he flicks it open and pulls it off of you. Tossing it somewhere to be discovered later.

And then his is finally, finally getting to see you in the way he’s spent many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock imagining.

“How are you so soft everywhere?” he murmurs tracing a finger down your bare sternum. He rubs his mustache over the sensitive tips of your pebbled nipples before claiming one with his mouth.

Your hands fly to his hair as he sucks and teases this newly uncovered part of you. He moans as you start grinding against him in earnest before switching over to the other, his hand coming up to cup and squeeze the taut bud that was wet and shiny from his mouth.

The sounds you are making are nothing like he has ever heard from you before. And he can’t wait to spend hours with your body learning all the things that make you whimper and whine and sigh.

With one more flick of his tongue against your nipple, he trails hungry kisses down your neck. He stops once to admire the little freckle high on your right ribcage before continuing his way down your body. He likes how easily your legs fall open for him as he settles himself at the center of you. At how much trust you are handing over to him.

“You still doing good, sweet girl?” he asks into the crease of your thigh.

“So, so good,” you exhale roughly. One of your hands is skimming along the skin of his shoulders, your delicate finger stroking over the scar there. “Five-stars, Bradley. Easily.”

“Mm, you sure I deserve that? Haven’t done anything to earn it,” he hums, teasing kisses along the lace edge of your white panties. “Haven’t even made you come yet.”

“Bradley.”

“Can I take these off and make you come with my mouth?” He slides a finger under the elastic band. “Can I earn that five-stars?”

“Yes, yes,” you nod rapidly, “I want that.”

Bradley slides his thumbs under the sides of your perfectly practical panties and starts to pull the last of your clothing off. He’s dreamt about you naked and on display for him, he is eager to discover every freckle, every mole, every scar on you.

You are almost revealed to him when he stops. His eyes snag on a spot on the inside of your right hipbone. A tattoo.

The tattoo.

He remembers the night at the Hard Deck when he had learned about its existence with picture perfect clarity.

Fanboy had been showing off the fresh ink on his forearm for the full sleeve he was in the process of getting, which had then turned into display of skin as his friends pulled up and rolled up their clothes to share their own. It was probably for the best that he had an aversion to needles or else he probably could have ended up with some misspelled Latin phrase like Payback had along his forearm.

Just as Hangman had finished tugging his shirt back down, he had turned towards you at the tall stool you were sitting on and asked, “What about you, darlin’? Anything to share with the class?”

There was gleam in his eye that Bradley had not appreciated in the slightest. Especially since he had made it perfectly clear that his best friend was off limits to the group of cocky aviators.

You had only relocated to San Diego a couple of months ago, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed living in the same area as you. And you were already fitting in with everyone like you’d been there for years.

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” you shrugged taking a sip of your drink while he nearly choked on his.

“What? No, you don’t,” he asserted as he elbowed Hangman out of the spot he was leaning on next to you.

“Uh, yeah, I definitely do.”

He didn’t get why you were looking at him like he had a second head. You were his best friend, that’s something that definitely would have come up in conversation at some point if you did have one. Right?

“I’ve never seen one on you,” he’d said adamantly.

He eyes quickly traveled over your body, you were in some laidback loose-fitting jeans with rips in them and a creamy colored knit tank top, as he looked for any hint of ink on your skin.

“Well, you wouldn’t,” you said like the reason should be completely obvious to him.

You kicked out at him in annoyance. He caught your foot easily with his hand, and gave it a quick, sharp tug in warning. Smirking at you when you gasped and scrambled to hold onto the stool, “What does that mean?”

“It means it’s not for the viewing public, Rooster,” you huffed at him.

“Sounds like there’s a story here,” Nat interrupted, looking on with keen eyes.

Yanking your leg out of his hand, you went on to tell the story about how you had gotten it done one drunken night at a house party your junior year of college. A “silly, girly thing” was all you’d had to say about it.

“Sounds like you’re lucky you didn’t get hepatitis or a staph infection,” he grumbled. You took the beer out of his hand in retribution and claimed it as your own, while throwing him the middle finger as you took a swig. And he’d let you.

“If it makes you feel better, bird boy, the guy who gave it to me now works at a pretty popular tattoo shop in New York.”

It hadn’t and he never forgot about it.

There had been more than one occasion where he had caught himself looking at you a bit too closely in a swimsuit from behind his aviators at the beach trying to get a glimpse of it.

And now he finally knew.

His fingertips are drawn to the fine, dainty lines of the ink on your skin. The pair of delicate butterflies were placed discreetly on your lower pelvis. One looked like it was in mid-flight with its wings spread wide, while the other was waiting to take off and join it.

“These are pretty, they suit you,” he murmurs leaning in to touch his lips to them. “Definitely not for the viewing public.”

“Just you, Bradley,” you agreed, setting your hands on top of his where on your hips. And together you both work off that last bit of fabric off your body.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky, sweet girl.” He kisses your pretty tattoo once more, then the spot below your bellybutton, the top of your pubic bone.

“You said you’d give me your mouth,” you whisper eagerly, your fingers carding through his hair. He loves the way your nails felt against his scalp.

“Whatever you want.” A reminder of the promise he had made to you in the hallway, before he even had you in his bed.

He inches himself even closer to your body, getting one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you to his hungry eyes. This part of you, just like your butterflies, was for his eyes and fingers and mouth alone.

He parts you with his tongue enjoying your little whimper and gives you a couple slow licks as he gets acquainted with your taste. He wants to savor you like a fine wine, to identify all the individual notes that made up the essence of you.

You’re already so wet for him.

And then he is exploring your pretty pussy with unrestrained enthusiasm. Using his tongue and lips to get you squirming before introducing his fingers. Your moans are better than any kind of music as he starts rubbing your clit with gentle precision.

His chest fills with smoky coils of masculine satisfaction as you prop yourself onto your elbows to get a better look at him as he works you with mouth. He holds your intense gaze when he slips one of his fingers inside the silky center of you.

Bradley can feel his heart beating in his throat as he watches your jaw drops in pleasure as you start to lose yourself to his mouth, “Tell me what you like.”

You’re so responsive to his touch. Your knee is trembling on his shoulder as he tries out long, smooth strokes and short, curling thrusts of his fingers determined to learn what makes your toes curl.

“I’ve never—,” you start before stopping, shaking your head.

“Never what, sweet girl?” he repeats, patiently looking up at you from between your legs. He is still circling your clit with his thumb as you work to find your words.

“I’ve never been able to come this way,” you confess like it’s something you’re embarrassed about. “But it feels really good. I just don’t want you to think I’m not enjoying this with you when I can’t get there.”

The burst of red-hot irritation that hits him like truck for all the men who have failed you in the past makes his jaw clench. Men who would prioritize their pleasure over yours.

He knows he is capable of getting you there. He wants to show you, to prove to you just exactly how capable he is about giving you the pleasure you deserve. It’s what he would give you every single time.

“Can I try?” Bradley waits until you nod your head yes, still propped up watching him. He places a kiss to your inner thigh in thanks for trusting him with this. “Tell me what makes you feel good,” he coaxes, “Tell me what you need from me.”

He’s tempted to suck hard enough to leave an indelible mark at the delicate skin of your perfect thigh. He wants you think about being back in his bed with him, when you’re at your apartment in your own bed. He just nips at the spot instead, before kissing it again.

“Can I give you another finger?” he asks.

“Please.” You whimper when runs his thumbnail across your clit before he gives you another one of his fingers.

“So polite,” he teases as he gets his mouth back on you. “I’ll give it to you right.” You clench against his fingers as they sweep against your front wall.

He is so hard, but all he can think about is how good you feel under his hands, under his mouth.

He is watching your face for every expression. He wants to know which motion of his fingers makes your breath catch in your throat. He wants to know what kind of touch makes your eyebrow pinch together and gasp.

Yes. There. More. Just like that.

It doesn’t take him long to get you writhing and keening for him as explores your body as you tell him exactly what you like.

“That, Bradley, that. Don’t stop, please.”

Your pupils are blown wide as you watch him tease his tongue against your clit with a pressure so gentle it makes your whole body shiver. He moans his contentment against your slick-shined center when you reach out to cup his jaw and stroke his cheek with your hand when he finds that spongey spot inside of you.

Your head falls back and you convulse spectacularly as you come with his tongue on you and his fingers in you.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises low and rough, “So fucking pretty when you come.”

Bradley hopes you can feel his grin against the soft skin of your thigh.

He lets you bask in the warm glow of your orgasm, all while his thumb keeps making the softest of circles against you, “Think you can do it again?”

Your heart is still beating erratically in your chest as you attempt to come down from your orgasm. You still can’t believe he made you come with his mouth in the first place, let alone that he thinks he can get you there again.

And when he puts his hot mouth back on you, your arms give out and you fall back against his soft duvet, “Fuck, Bradley, oh my god.” The feel of his mustache against that sensitive part of you was overwhelming.

Bradley works you like he is trying to erase the memory of any man before him.

The only other sound in the room besides your breathy panting was the wet sounds your body was making as his fingers curled and thrust in and out of you. You’d be embarrassed by it if was anyone else other than Bradley.

Because he is the one making you feel this good.

The coiling sensation in your stomach was tightening with every lick and suck and flick of the tongue he used to bring you closer to the edge. You savored the burn in your hip flexors as his thick forearms held you open for his talented mouth.

“Sorry,” you gasp, unable to control the way your hips roll against his mouth.

“Don’t be. Do it again,” he rasps, gripping your thigh harder, “Use my mouth.”

He hums in satisfaction when you do it again, this time on purpose at his command. The vibrations against your clit reverberate through your whole body as you rock against his mouth and ride his fingers.

The woodsy smell of his bed, the sound of his voice and dirty praise, the feel of his body on yours was building you up much quicker than before. Your hands were fluttering everywhere. In his hair. On your breasts. Tangling in his sheets.

You are hyperaware of his every touch and it has you feeling high strung. You’re there teetering having been built up so stunningly. Your body is pulled taut like piano wires with unreleased pleasure that you just can’t seem to reach.

One of his warm, comforting hands soothes up and down the side of your waist as you twitch and writhe beneath him.

“C’mon, kid. You’re there, I can feel it,” he says pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your tattoo before sealing his mouth over you again. “Want you to come for me.”

For him. For Bradley. You want to come for Bradley.

It is almost instinctual how your body responds when he laces the fingers of his free hand together with yours. You have been feeling so untethered in your own skin by the promise of another deliciously devastating orgasm. The squeeze of his hand is your gravity, anchoring you back in the moment with him

And he is holding more than your hand in his as you fly apart for him. He has your heart.

You can hear his gentle murmurs, but your brain can’t process anything other than a few choice words as he peppers kisses back up your body.

He leans over reaching for the forgotten half-full water glass on his nightstand, probably some misguided attempt to be courteous, but you need his mouth on yours right now. He makes a noise of surprise as you pull him to you, your mouth is already parted and ready to chase the taste of yourself off of his tongue.

It’s slow and languid and just what you need.

“I’ve never come so hard before,” you laugh pulling away from him after a few minutes, the endorphins hitting you hard. “You should lead with that. Bradley-Gives-Great-Head-Rooster-Bradshaw.”

His eyes glimmer with amusement, “I don’t think that would fit on a helmet, but you can introduce me that way if you want.” His voice is smug, but it’s his satisfied smirk that thrills you the most.

“Oh my god, you’re preening! You’re so pleased with yourself right now,” you giggle, your thumbs stroking over his mustache at the wetness still there.

“Damn right I am,” he rasps leaning in for another lingering kiss.

Bradley kisses you like a wildfire, all unrestrained heat. And you will happily burn for him. Under his touch you are regenerated, reenergized, revived.

“I want you,” you breathe into his neck, tugging on the band of his black boxer briefs. His body was already a visual treat and his heart even better, but you want to feel him against the center of you with nothing standing between your body and his.

You don’t want to want anymore, you want to know.

With your help, he pulls them down his strong thighs and off completely. You’re treated to the reminder of just how big he is, it would almost be intimidating if you weren’t so desperate for him.

You run your hand up and down the length of him. He was right that night on the phone, you’d need to use both hands next time.

Savoring the way he drops his head down and pants into your clavicle, the coarse hairs of his mustache rough on your skin in the best way. With your other hand, you play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. His biceps quaking from where they’re rooted on his mattress next to your head.

You want to make him feel as good as you do.

“Can I go down on you?”

Your mouth would be the end of him.

“Next time,” he grunts out. He’s barely able to think with the way your hand is stroking his cock, let alone speak.

“Haven’t you thought about my mouth on you? Come on, Bradley,” you purr temptingly. You both know you’re not playing fair when you tighten your grip on him.

“Shit.” He’s breathing hard now. “Of course, I have. I thought about it this morning when I got myself off in the shower, sweet girl.”

He’s treated to both the sight of your dimples and the clever twist of your wrist at his confession. He knows you think you’re going to get your way, like you usually do, so he changes tactics, “I promise, the next round you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Already planning for round two, huh?”

“Yeah, kid,” he says hoarsely, “Did you think this was just going to be one and done?”

You collect some of the precum from the tip of his cock with your thumb and lick it off as you look up at him doe-eyed and innocent, “Well then, I hope you can keep up, Lieutenant.”

A feral groan rips from him and he drops his head down to yours feeding you his tongue. He dominates your mouth as he slides and swirls his against yours. You whimper prettily as both flavors melt across your tongue.

“Do you like the way we taste?” he rumbles, his voice like gravel.

Bradley doesn’t know how to interpret the sound you make or the way you choke out oh my god.

“Sorry, too much?” he asks raggedly, checking in. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable because he can’t stop from running his mouth.

“God, no. I’ve never been so turned on, Bradley,” you pant, as you rock your warm, wet pussy against him. “Don’t want you to hold back with me.”

You’re both naked and it’s no secret how this night is going to end. He loses himself to the feel of you as you roll your hips against him, whining every time the head of his cock connects with your swollen clit.

“Hold on, hold on,” he doesn’t know why he feels nervous bringing it up, but he needs too while he still has the brain function to talk about it. “I’ve got condoms. It’s been awhile for me, but I got a new box in my bathroom. I just need to go grab them.”

He moves to get up, but you tighten your hold on him.

“I’m on the pill. I, um, got back on it after our first date,” you say almost bashfully. “So if you wanted to go, ah, without it would be ok. I would be fine with it if you didn’t wear one. More than fine, actually.”

There’s something about your endearing self-conscious babbling that helps him get out of his head, “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything, always. You know that,” you tell him, nudging your nose against his.

“I haven’t done this without one before,” he admits.

And it’s clear from the way your eyebrows spring up that this surprises you, “Wait, never?”

“Never,” Bradley confirms. He brings your hand up to his chest so you can feel how fast his heart is beating.

While he’s had a couple serious girlfriends in the past, one didn’t like the way the pill made her feel and the other didn’t like the mess. It was never a big deal to him as long as everyone felt good. He liked that extra layer of protection, he never liked the idea of potentially getting someone pregnant and leaving them to care for his child when his job was so unpredictable.

And with one-night stands, the use of a condom was never even a question.

“So, I get to be your first?” A delighted grin overtakes your face, as you affectionately run you hand through his hair.

“If you want,” he offers softly.

“I want it to be me,” you say with such sincerity it makes his chest ache.

You pull him back down to you and wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to you. The two of you are a frenzy of wandering hands and teasing tongues and needy noises.

“How do you want me?” he asks, low and velvety.

“I’ve imagined everything,” you whisper, your thumb caressing the long scar from where your hands are cupped around the side of his neck. “But I want you like this, just like this.”

He has always been wrapped around your finger, but with your hand on his cock guiding him to the center of you, he is at your mercy.

You trusted Bradley to be gentle not only with your body, but also with your heart. You were safe in his stupidly big and unfairly perfect hands.

There’s no holding back the sharp inhale as his thick, flared tip enters you for the first time. He’s barely inside of you and the way he is filling you is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before.

The low whine he makes as he slides into you without anything in-between your bodies is the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard. You are impossibly wetter at the knowledge that you are the one to make him feel this good, that it’s your body he’s experiencing this with for the first time.

Your eyes flutter close at the sheer stretch of him as he presses further into you.

Slowly, gently, deliberately.

“No,” he roughly rasps, pausing half-way inside of you, “Look at me.”

His desperate tone sets off more goosebumps over your body. With no small effort on your part, you do as he wants.

He looks just as overwhelmed as you feel. The flush from his cheeks and neck has worked its way down his broad chest, there’s a sheen of sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat and you want to lick him there.

“Want you to keep your eyes on me.”

You fight the urge to squirm as he slowly serves you the rest of his cock. He’s intensely watching your reaction to every ridge, every vein, every thick inch of him as he makes encouraging circles with his thumbs over your hipbones.

If you were to close your eyes again, you know you’d be seeing stars. But how could you when he was looking at you with such wonder.

You are nearly undone by the sensation of being so entirely wanted and cherished and lo—

“Bradley,” you whimper, unguarded under his gaze.

Every emotion is pounding away inside of you, eager for its turn in the spotlight.

“I know, I know.” His voice is rough and wrecked.

You can feel what he really means. We’re right on time.

Your heart stumbles over itself when he tenderly kisses the damp skin of your temple when his hips finally, finally press against yours.

And for a moment you two just hold each other’s eyes as you get used to being connected with each other in the most intimate of ways.

Your mind was taking snapshots of everything, you didn’t want to forget a single moment of this. All these little details of him that belonged to you. The length of his eyelashes. The flush of his cheeks. The state of his pretty wavy hair made messy by your hands. The pinch of his brow. The exact shade of his whiskey brown eyes as he stared into your eyes.

It is almost too intimate the way he is looking at you when he starts moving above you. As he took in your every dewy blink, every hitch of your breath, every little sound you made. As he slowly, purposefully rolled his hips against yours.

That untethered feeling was settling over you again. “Bradley, need you to kiss me.” You feel his hands tighten on your waist. He was inside of you, but you needed him closer. “Please, please.”

His lips are on yours like a flash. “Anything,” he murmurs in between deep, thorough kisses. “Anything you want.” You take his tongue just like you take the rest of him.

You’re on the right side of too full and he is hot and heavy inside of you. It is dizzying being this stretched around him, this surrounded by him. You can feel everything. The orgasm that sneaks up on you is a silvery, shimmery thing that coasts over you like stardust.

“Fuck,” he groans as your pussy lightly flutters around him, slowing down his thrusts to draw it out for you.

You recover quickly, the sensation that swept over you was not nearly as intense as the ones that he gave you with his mouth and fingers, but no less satisfying.

“Of course, you’re good at this too,” you laugh breathily.

He huffs one of his own in response, his mouth pulling crookedly to the side, “I told you we’d be good together.” He props himself up higher with his forearms from where they were lovingly, protectively caged around your head, “You feelin’ good, sweet girl?”

“So good, it’s so good, Bradley.”

You can feel his grin when he makes your back arch from hitting you just right. Grasping onto his thick biceps, your fingers dig into the corded muscle there. All you can do is let the rhythm take the lead as he picks up the pace again.

It’s hard to draw a full breath. Whether from being so filled by him or from the pressure building in your chest you couldn’t say.

He is everywhere, but it still isn’t enough. You don’t know if you want more or you need less. If you need him to go slower or if it’s not fast enough. You’re so overwhelmed, it’s just so overwhelming how good he is making you feel.

“Bradley, I need, I need-” you can’t even finish your sentence before you’re making a noise of frustration.

“Shh, it’s ok. I got you, kid.” He tosses your legs over his shoulders and raises up to his knees. Lifting your hips up as he reaches over to grab a pillow and slides it underneath you.

Next powerful thrust of his hips has you feeling like you are going to vibrate out of your skin.

Bradley has always been a big fan of mutually assured orgasms, but he had no idea sex could be this good. He has never felt so in sync or connected like this with anyone else ever.

And the way you feel around him with nothing separating his body from yours was indescribable. Only you had the ability make him feel this good.

He wanted your heartbeat to syncopate to the syllables of his name like his did with yours.

“Fuck, fuck. That feels so good,” you stutter out. The new change of angle has you even tighter for him as the sounds of your bodies coming together fill the room. “B-bradley.” a thrust “Your pillow.” a grind “The mess.”

“Fuck the pillow, I’ll get a new one,” he grunts. He clearly isn’t doing his job if you’re concerned about something as inconsequential as some feathers surrounded by cotton.

And then his loses himself in your whimpers and whines and the feel of your perfect-for-him body. In the silky warmth of you. Of his hands on your waist, on your hips, on your ass.

He has to remind himself this is the first time of many. He’s been dying to have you in every way possible for weeks. He wants to know if you sound the same as you do right now beneath him or if your sweet noises changed whether you were above him or on your hands and knees in front of him.

He couldn’t wait to find out.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises. You clench around him and his hips nearly falter in the slow, steady rhythm he has set, “Mm, of course you like a compliment.”

Bradley leans down to kiss you and you cry out at the change of position. Good girl. He teases his mustache down your neck, licking along the straining tendon of your neck. Pretty girl. And then he has he mouth on your breast again. Sweet girl.

The position is perfect for him to grind against your clit. The sounds of your soft sighs, of your breathy moans, and your shaky exhales as he hits that spot inside of you just right has him fighting the urge to chase his own release. And he can’t hold back his own sounds of satisfaction when your hot mouth trails along his collarbone, your tongue laving over that scar on his shoulder.

“I can feel you’re holding back,” you urge. “More, give me more.” One of your hands goes to his ass encouraging him to go faster.

“I’m trying to be romantic here,” he only partly teases, as he rolls his hips in that way he now knows makes you gasp.

“You are, you are,” you promise as you pet the side of his face. “But Bradley, I need you to romantically fuck me harder.”

Only you could make him laugh and make his cock stiffer all at the same time.

He’s never been one to deny you. He sits up on his knees again and flings one of your legs over the crook of his elbow, opening you up and giving him more room to give you just what you want.

“Look at you, I can’t believe you’re mine,” he groans. He can’t tear his eyes away from the way your tits bounce as he gives it to you harder, faster, deeper. “Touch yourself for me.” The only thing he can think about was getting you over the edge, so that he could follow you.

He nearly comes at the pretty sight of your fingers making rapid circles on your clit. His hips are rocking into yours roughly, and the way you are whimpering his name is ratcheting his need for you even higher.

Your mouth feels too far away, he wants to taste his name on your lips. He drops back down caging you in his arms. The two of you groan together, he’s much deeper this way. Your hands are fisted in his hair, pulling tightly at his curls as you sweep your tongue against his.

There’s no way he’s going to last with you gripping him like this. He can already feel the tension building in his spine. He knocks your hand out of the way as he takes over the ministrations on your clit, rubbing you there with tight circles.

“Bradley,” you gasp and writhe desperately against him. The way you chant his name sounds so breathy and perfect in his ear as he speeds up the motion of his fingers needing you to come undone.

And then he feels as you spasm and arch and come apart for him with his name on your lips.

bradleybradleybradley

The blood is buzzing in his veins and his breathing has gone entirely ragged as he continues to move in you until you go soft in his arms with a full-bodied sigh.

And then he gives into the desperate way his body needs yours as he chases his own climax.

He presses his face into the curve of your neck, mouthing at whatever skin he can reach as he comes. Nothing has ever felt so good to him as it does emptying himself inside of you, as he thrusts deeper into you as your body convulses around his.

It’s an earth-shattering orgasm that takes and takes and takes.

You don’t know how long you and Bradley lay there tangled up in each other, all heated skin and rapid heartbeats. It’s the most you can do to run your hand through his damp hair from where his head is still tucked against your neck and up and down his muscular back.

He’s long since pulled out of you and you can feel him dripping out of you. But if Bradley isn’t worried about the mess, then neither are you.

You’re still getting use to the weight of him. Still getting use to the shape of your bodies pressed against each other in this way. But it’s better than you could have ever hoped for.

He’s better than you could have hoped for. In every way that mattered.

“So, same time, same place tomorrow?” you ask finding your voice first. You can feel his chuckle as he kisses your neck once, then twice before he pulls away to look at you.

His brown eyes are rimmed with hazel and crinkled around the edges. All the affection and happiness and familiarity evident on his flushed face.

And then he smiles at you. And you know you’re wearing a matching one.

And then you giggle. And he lets out a laugh as he reaches up to softly brush the sweaty strands of hair away from your face.

“You know what’s not fair?” He lets out a hmm of acknowledgement for you to continue as his thumb traces your cheekbone. “You’ve got all these nicknames for me, but I don’t have one for you. Should we try some on for size?” you croon against his ear. Feeling very pleased with yourself when the heavy hand resting on your hip tenses in response.

You kiss along his jaw. Honey. Over his cheek. Baby. On the corner of his perfect mouth. Sweetheart.

“Bradley,” he murmurs looking at you softly.

“Bradley?” You repeat it back to him. Not questioning, but there’s a curiosity there. You love the way he leans in into your touch as you comb your fingers through his waves.

He nods and you’re hit with a wave of affection for this man in your arms. Your Bradley.

“Ok, Bradley,” you say indulgently as you drop a lingering kiss to his lips. “I can work with that.”

And then you’re whispering his name and alternating kisses to his skin, his stomach tensing and flexing as you work your way down his body.

Not one to break his promises to you, he keeps to his word and lets you whatever you want.

After you’ve gotten your way and after he’s gotten his again, you’re wrapped up in his strong arms tangled in his sheets. You’ve never been more satisfied in your life than you are with him here and now, warm and cared for.

You’re too contented in the blissful after you had been so needlessly worried about to fight sleep as it comes to claim you.

Will you two stay intertwined like this all night? Or will he chase you across the bed like he has been chasing you in your dreams?

Snuggling in closer to Bradley, you think about how excited you are to wake up next to him in the morning. Knowing him, he will probably be up before you, hopefully waiting with a steaming cup of coffee for you.

With his soft breaths in your ear, you let yourself drift off to the sweet potential and possibilities of tomorrow.

There’s so much to look forward to.

More of Bradley, more with Bradley.

The two of you are perfectly and exactly on time.

This was written as the part of a series for characters in the “Like I Can” Universe. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here!

They’re right on time, and boy, was it worth the wait!

If you’re curious about what Bradley’s room looks like, you can check it out here! (I’ve updated it to include some headcanons)

I wrote this little series as a birthday gift to my favorite Taurus Moon twin @gretagerwigsmuse! It only took a couple months, Jordan, but its the gift that keeps on giving!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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littlemissaddict · 5 months ago

Text

I Don't Like You - Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

This was based on a dream I had about Sam and Torrez teasing for being jealous over Bucky having a 'girlfriend' and they way of proving that I don't is a staring contest and after that I got as little carried away which you can see by the word count.

Word count: 4553 Warnings: Angst, jealousy, mentions of blood (nothing descriptive), not edited I think that's it but please let me know of anything else.

“You know I can’t make eye contact” she glares at Sam, unintentionally making eye contact with him where he sits across the table from her.

“You seem to be doing just fine now” he retorts with a smug grin on his face.

“Yeah well it’s easy to do with people I don’t like” she responds, trying not to let herself give in and laugh at his dramatics as he clutches a hand to his chest as he pitifully asks, ‘you don’t like me?’ Instead she settles on a roll of her eyes as she responds, “Not at the minute no”

“Should be easy for you then seeing as you ‘don’t like him” Torrez chimes in quoting her from just moments ago when they accused her of liking Bucky and being jealous that he has a girlfriend and their way of proving it, for her to hold eye contact with him for more than thirty seconds.

“I don’t and you two are just being childish” she huffs, knowing that there is no way she is getting out of it without doing as they ask and revealing her secret feelings for Bucky.

“We wouldn’t have to be like this if you’d just admit the crush you're harbouring on our resident super soldier” Sam pushes again.

“Resident super soldier? I thought that was Steve” she deflects, it’s a low blow to them all but she’s had enough.

“Don’t be a smart ass” Sam responds, all the light hearted foolery gone from moments before.

She sighs, giving in, “Fine let’s just get this over with” as she turns in her seat to face Bucky who has not said a word this entire time which seemed a little strange but then again it wasn’t as if said much anyway. Settling back into her seat as she still tries to feign control over the situation that has rapidly spiralled out of her control, she waits for Bucky to signal he's ready and then Sam's counting them in.

With one final sigh she gives in and meets Bucky's eyes and as cliche as it sounds she can feel herself getting lost in the blue of them as the noise of the cafeteria seems muffled, even forgetting about Sam and Torrez watching the two of them intently. This is dangerous, she needs to pull away but then that would only confirm what they already know so she forces herself to hang in there until she's in the clear but then they breeze right through it. Neither she nor Bucky seem to hear Sam's countdown, nor when Torrez tells them they're done, it's only when Sam sticks a hand between them and interrupts their line of sight do they finally snap out of it.

She doesn't know if it's just her imagination but Bucky seems just as dazed as her as they blink the world back into focus, the noise around them resuming its original volume. “See I told you I didn't like him” she stutters out, her voice breaking as she rounds on their audience.

“No, no, nope you have just confirmed that you do if anything” Sam corrected her.

“No the bet was that I could hold eye contact if I didn't like him, I think you've had too many hits to the head and it's making you confused” she says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah but do you not feel the electricity between the two of you, I can feel it on the other side of the table” Torrez chimes in, drawing her attention from a smirking Sam, “Yeah, I uh think if I get any closer I'm literally going to get zapped” he adds with a laugh which Sam joins in on.

“You know what I don't need this” she huffs, flustered and embarrassed, avoiding looking at Bucky as she pushes her chair back and storms away from the table, ignoring the calls of her name from Sam.

In fact she avoids them for the next few days, which is a challenge since she's with them on missions but she disappears as soon as she gets the chance, not hanging around them for any longer than she has to. Until she has no choice.

“Okay intel says our target is going to be here tonight” Torrez reveals, sliding two invites across the table towards where she and Bucky stood. She didn't even need to look down at them to know it'd been some fancy party that would require them to dress the part, she'd read enough of the packet they'd been given on him to know it'd be his type of thing.

“Your job is to..”

“Let me guess we're going in undercover with some made up alias that you've managed to convince our target need to attend” she spoke, interrupting Torrez who was only trying to do his job and deliver the brief of the mission to them but the air between them was as tense now as it had been when she walked out on them last week.

“Yes and no, I'm not involved in this one” Sam reveals, his voice sounding strained as he adds, “You and Bucky are, you'll be undercover as a married couple interested in joining their enterprise”

“Married couple?” She choked out, he really had to be joking, “Surely you could have come up with something else” she added, directly her glare towards Torrez now as if she was blaming him for it.

Sam shook his head, “Our target has a certain special interest in the ladies, we need you to play into it” he explained.

“And him?” She asked, gesturing to Bucky at her side.

“He's needed because believe it or not he's more intimidating than either of us two” Sam replies motioning between himself and Torrez, “Plus he has the super soldier serum running through his veins and a metal arm, if it does go down hill you're gonna need him” he adds as if it's an afterthought but them he's sees the look on her face and knows exactly what she's going to try and argue. “He's more subtle than the wings and we can't sneak in any guns as there's a metal detector on the way in”

“Metal detector? He's got a fucking vibranium arm, how are you going to sneak that in?” She asks in disbelief and yeah she might be taking this too far but she's too far gone to even try and rein it back in.

“He's part of an experimental trial offering upgraded prosthetics to war veterans” Torrez states and finally she had no comeback as they really had thought of everything.

Her shoulders sagged, the fight went out of her as she realised that there was no way out of this, she was going to have to play nice with Bucky. “How much time do we have?” She asks.

“You'll be leaving in just under two hours” Sam confirms as he motions for Torrez to grab the bags hung on the wall opposite them, “Your outfits, you better hurry”

She stands in front of the full length mirror in the makeshift dressing room admiring the black floor length dress she'd been given. The high neckline that dropped into a deep v at the bottom of her back and the thigh high split on the right side of the dress, it had certainly been picked with care as it was sure to draw their targets attention.

And it seems Sam, Torrez and Bucky's as she met them back in the main room where Torrez had set up his surveillance equipment, ready to be their eyes and ears on the ground. Bucky moved to say something as she came to a stop in front of him, warmth flooding through her under his gaze. “Don't, let's just get this over with” she tells him, instead accepting the arm he offers her as they head out to the waiting car.

Bucky adjusts his tie as the car begins to drive, face scrunched up in discomfort as he fiddles with it. “Hey, here let me help?” She offers, sliding closer to him before he can even reply as she's seriously concerned he's going to manage to strangle himself with it from the way he's tugging on it. She reaches her hands up, sliding under the stark white collar to check the tie is not twisted before loosening the knot that rests at the base of his neck. “Better?” She asks after straightening the length of the tie and pulling her hands away from him, aware of his heavy gaze that had been on her since she slid across the leather seat to help him.

“Don't think it was wrong, just makes me feel claustrophobic wearing it” he grumbles slouching back into the seat.

“Then don't wear it” she suggests, they may be playing different parts tonight but if he can't learn to live with it then it has to go. They can't risk their target seeing through their façade just because Bucky can't cope with a tie, “dump it and undo the top few buttons, it looks hotter like that anyway” she shrugs casually as if she hadn't just hinted to Bucky that she found him hot.

He looks down at her contemplating her words and she thinks that he may just deal with it as he's dealt with worse things than a tie in his years but then his hands come up to the tie. “‘Happy wife, happy life’ that's what they say nowadays, right?” He asks as the tie falls from his neck and he focuses on undoing the top few buttons as she instructed.

“Yeah, guess so,” she replies, “doesn’t really apply to us though” she adds, feeling the need to remind him that they aren’t together so he can do what he pleases; it has nothing to do with her as long as it doesn’t compromise the mission.

They breeze through security checks, clearly having gotten Torrez’s memo about the ‘prosthetic’ and then they’re joining the party. She guides Bucky along to the bar where she flashes the server a wide smile. “I’ll have a gin and tonic and your finest whiskey please” she tells him with a wink as she hears Bucky grumble beside her.

“Do you really think now's the best time for a drink”

She smiles playfully up at him, batting her lashes as she pushes up on her toes so that she can lean into whisper into his ear. To anyone around the pair it would look like an intimate moment between lovers but really it’s just a ploy so that she can talk to him without anyone listening in, other than Sam and Torrez that is. “We need to play the part, blend in but I can get you a water if you’d prefer” she explains before pulling away, glad that he’s managed to hide his surprise at her sudden closeness.

The barman interrupts their little moment, setting the drinks down on the counter in front of them and their total. She bats her eyes yet again at Bucky who simply rolls his eyes and reaches into his pocket for his wallet to pay as she reaches for her drink and takes a sip as he hands the money over. Honestly she'd feel bad having him pay if she didn't know that he'd be compensated for it once the mission was completed, besides it wasn’t her fault she had nowhere to keep any money in the dress that had been chosen for her.

“Now what?” Bucky asks and she thinks it's mainly because she took charge to begin with that he thinks she has some idea of how the night will play out.

“We wait” she states, taking another sip of her drink as she scans the room for any sign of their target yet she finds none.

Time draws on and one drink turns into another, another that she tries to nurse for as long as she can without seeming suspicious as she can't afford to lose her head. She is slightly jealous of Bucky's tolerance to alcohol but then again he does have the advantage of the super soldier serum course through his veins but she can tell he's just as on edge as she is. They've been waiting too long with no sign of the man they came here for, in fact she was just about to suggest they call it when a woman approached them.

She felt Bucky tense beside her, his automatic instincts to protect kicking in as he slid an arm around her waist which seemed to settle him for the moment. The unnamed woman addresses them, well their aliases, and informs them that she had been sent by their target and if they'd like to follow her.

Both she and Bucky felt something was off and she could only hope that Sam would be ready with back up if they needed it. Following her through the crowd towards a door at the back of the hall they were in, she led them through a maze of hallways that she struggled to keep track of until they were led into a room where stood the man they had come here for.

“Ah come in, come in” he greeted the two of them, gesturing for them to take a seat on the plush chairs in front of him. “We have lots to discuss” he beamed, nodding to the woman they still didn't know the name of as she took her exit of the room and shut the door behind her. It did nothing to ease the tension both her and Bucky felt but they were trapped with nowhere to run. “Sorry for all the secrecy tonight but as you can well imagine our work is only known to a select few so it did come as a surprise to be sought out directly” he explained turning his attention back to him.

“Yes but you were highly recommended” she spoke, hoping to clear up any suspicions he may have as she forced her body to relax into the seat.

“So you said in your enquiry” he stated as he perched on the edge of the desk in front of her with barely a glance in Buckys direction but that was to be expected. “Though I don't understand how you came to find out about our operations here” he asked, leaning forward towards her.

She repeated the name of the guy they had busted that had identified him as the head of operations and that to pull the plug on it all they would need to take him out. “We were looking to expand our opportunities and he said that you may be able to help” she answered, laying it on thick that they needed his help in hopes of appealing to his ego.

“I could but you see there is one slight problem I have, you've come to me right after his arrest, now pardon me for the accusation but as you can well understand the last thing I need is the authorities butting their nose into things” he stated, a knowing look being thrown their way. “So as a protocol I did some digging into you two only to find nothing, so now you see that was your first mistake” he smirked, pushing from the table in favour of pacing in front of them as if he hadn't just revealed that he knew that their intentions were false. “Now imagine my surprise when I found out that the former Winter Soldier and a government agent wanted to meet with me, most would have declined but not me, I have a proposal for you both” he reveals, speaking to the both of them but his eyes never leave her as he comes to a stop in front of her.

Out of the corner of her eye she can see Bucky tense as he gets closer to her, ready to make a move if he even thinks about harming her but instead he reaches out a hand to cup her chin, forcing her to look at him. She rolls her eyes at how predictable his words were, “Why would we want to work for you?” She replies, her words laced with venom as she tries to pull her face from his hold.

He releases her face without complaint, “Well there’s the perks of the sale, being in charge of your own operations and,” he smirks, leaning in closer so that his mouth was by her ear, “for you sweet thing, we could work out a little something extra” he whispers before moving back to her face.

She grimaces at his words, watching as he leans into her, head angled in preparation to kiss her but she doesn’t let him get that far. She spits in his face, feeling a sense of relief as he pulls away, unable to hide his disgust as he wipes his face with the back of his hand. Though the look doesn’t last that long as his smirk returns, “Feisty, now I can see why the soldier likes you so much” he says finally turning his attention away from her and back to Bucky as if he’s just remembered he’s still in the room. When she follows his gaze, Bucky’s hands are gripping the armrest of the chair so hard that she’s surprised it’s not broken and his eyes are set hard against the man in front of them in a way she can only describe as a look to kill.

“Now of course you can say no but I’m afraid that won’t end well for either of you” he adds, almost as if it’s an afterthought as he moves away from the two of them to sit back against the desk.

Bucky speaks for the first time since they entered the room, “What makes you think it’ll end badly for us, like you said I’m the former Winter Soldier I’ve gotten out of worse than this”

The man in front of them chuckles, “Oh I’m sure you have but there’s one major difference this time you didn’t have your little girlfriend with you”

She see’s Bucky’s jaw tighten yet he doesn’t argue his words, “No but we do have back up” he counters which doesn’t even seem to phase their target.

“Oh right” he smiles, tapping his ear as he hints towards their in-ears and their contact with Sam and Torrez but now she thinks about it the two of them have been surprisingly quiet all evening. “That was your second mistake, once you entered the building they ceased to work, protocol you see” he simply shrugged.

The malfunction certainly didn’t go amiss with Sam and Torrez over in their makeshift control room, “When was the last time we heard from them?” Sam urged, one hand on the back of Torrezs' chair and the other on the table he sat at.

“Just before they entered, they must have some kind of communications blocker but we still have visual at least” he answered, bringing up on the screen the image of her and Bucky at the bar. “Doesn’t like him my ass, look at the two of them” he snickered watching her push up onto her toes to talk into Bucky’s ear, “and look at him, didn’t you say he had a girlfriend?” Torrez looks confused as he rounds on Sam.

Sam sighs, “Just a wind up to push them together but we’ve got more important things to worry about now, like whoever this is” he reminds Torrez as he points to the woman approaching the pair on screen. “Can you follow them?” Sam asks as Torrez nods, his fingers moving against the keyboard as he switches between the cameras to follow them to wherever they are being led.

He follows them through the maze of corridors, only losing sight of them when they enter the room at the end of the corridor and they can only watch helplessly when the woman leaves the room again without them. “Can you figure out where in the building they are?” Sam questions, moving around behind him.

“Why? You going in?” Torrez questions, trying to figure out how Sam could possibly sneak past the beefed up security.

“No, I’m sending in Red Wing” he replies, already having Red Wing ready and waiting for instructions. With no more questions to ask Torrez gets to work finding their location in the building within minutes and sending it to Sam.

It takes longer than Sam would like for Red Wing to find the window into the room where he can see her and Bucky seated in front of their target who has his back to the window, thankfully. It also seems that she and Bucky miss his presence as well which works out better for him by giving him the element of surprise but more importantly he can hear what's being said in the room.

“Now if you’ve made your decision because I have a party to get too”

Sam sees him move his hand to press a button, to what he assumes is connected to his goons to let them know to come in, not that Sam was willing to take that chance. Without a second thought he engaged Red Wings targeting system so as to lessen the chance of hitting the other two in the room.

At the first sound of the shattering Bucky was quick off the chair and pulling her into him so he could use his body to shield her from any stray bullets as neither of them knew what was happening, let alone that it was Sam coming to save them. The sound of the bullets drew in the guards who came running straight into the bullets and ending up as the same fate of their master. Once the bullets stopped and there were no more guards appearing did Bucky finally peek out to see none other than Red Wing hovering by the window. Moments later the sound of the fire alarm going off drew the both of them to their senses, “We have to get out of here” she urges, tugging on Bucky’s arm.

Bucky follows without complaint, taking her hand and taking off through the door and through the hallways that he’d memorised on the way here knowing that they would probably have to make a quick getaway and they couldn’t afford to get lost in the maze.

“Wait Bucky, need to get these heels off” she panted next to him, running was not her favourite thing but running in stilettos was definitely at the top of the list of least favourite things to do.

“No time” he stated, reaching for her and hoisting her up over his shoulder as she shrieked in surprise as he took off running again.

When they made it back to the main hall where guests were still evacuating, he placed her back onto her feet and led her into the crowd of people as they tried to blend in to make their way outside. Thankfully Sam had their driver waiting for them and only once they were in the safety of the car away from the chaos did they finally breathe a sigh of release.

Bucky turned to her, eyes skimming over her body, “Are you okay? No cuts, no blood?” he questioned as she looked down at her body.

“I think I’m good,” she confirmed, “you?” She added turning her attention back to him and noticing the tears in his jacket, probably from where he pulled them both to the floor covered in the broken glass but otherwise he looked unharmed.

“Don’t need to worry about me doll, I’ve been through worse” he chuckles and she doesn’t appreciate that he doesn’t seem to care for his own well being after that but that was something to discuss another time.

“Hey, thank you for protecting me back there” she says, softly leaning against his side instead of looking at him because she didn’t think she’d be able to hide her feelings from him.

Bucky wraps an arm around her, holding her close, “No need to thank me, that’s what I was there for, remember” he smiles down at her.

“I’m serious Buck, I’ve been awful to you for the past week and you haven’t done anything wrong, I’m sorry” she pouts pulling away from him so that he can see that she really does mean it, she’s just too scared to admit that she likes him.

Bucky’s face softens, “I get it, really and I don’t blame you, the others pushed you to do something you were uncomfortable with just to prove a point that didn’t need proving,” he speaks with a sad smile on his face, “I’m sorry I didn’t stop them” he adds, reaching over to cup her cheek but it all feels oddly intimate for someone who supposedly already has a girlfriend, but she blocks it out as she automatically leans into his touch.

“You don’t, not really, I don’t dislike you quite the opposite but it doesn’t really matter because you’re already taken” she sighs, finally coming to her senses and pulling away from his touch. Bucky doesn’t respond as she pulls away, her head leaning back against the headrest as she closes her eyes to block it all out. She knows it’s because she’s messed up by confessing to him and that it’s only going to make their team even more awkward than she’s already made for the past week. In fact she’s so lost in her own thoughts about maybe asking to transfer teams that she misses Bucky shifting beside her until she feels his breath against her face.

Opening her eyes she fights the urge to scream in surprise as she hadn’t expected him to be so close but she recovers just as quick, knowing that it’s Bucky, “You know I don’t actually have a girlfriend, right?” He questions, seriousness written all over his face that she believes him, “I’ve not even been looking because I’d already found her but I didn’t know she felt the same until now” he smiles as she stutters in surprise at his confession. Stutters that are silenced by the soft press of his lips against hers as he gives her the space to pull away if she wants but she doesn’t, instead she winds her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer as she presses harder against him, savouring the feeling of his lips and the knowledge that he feels the same.

They’re so lost in each other that they don’t even realise the car has stopped moving, they only realise when the car door opens and Sam’s voice sounds out of nowhere. “You don’t like him, huh?” he teases, thankful that his friends are back in one piece.

She groans as they pull away from each other and Bucky, already having had enough of Sam, pushes his flesh hand into Sam’s face and uses that to push him away from the door so they can get out. Sam’s laughing as they get out of the car and despite his teasing, he’s happy that the two of them finally got together, even if it meant he’d have to probably break up multiple make out sessions while they’re on future missions.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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caraetdeul · 4 months ago

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I Wait By The Door Like I'm Just A Kid

Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

The first time you forgave him.

(with platonic!Lee Jihoon x reader)

TW: angst, angst, angst!!! Hurt/no comfort, somehow toxic relationship

A/n: this is the first part to the small series. Hope you like it! Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

Btw, it can be read as gn!reader but there are descriptions of feminine clothes and things.

~Main Masterlist~ | ~Series Masterlist~

Time check: 1:45 pm.

15 minutes before the doors open.

There was still so much to do with so little time. This gallery may be a dream come true for you a month ago but right now, you’re just begging for all of these to end.

Frantically, you double-check your checklist as you rush around the gallery, pointing out various things you want fixed before the opening. A small rearrangement of decorations here, an exchange of portraits there. It was all you could do to fully distract you from the fact that you were so close to breaking down from all the anxiety and adrenaline.

You were focused on checking the guest list by the reception desk when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were suddenly met with a glass of cold water being pushed into your hands by Jihoon.

“Drink,” he insisted.

“But—”

“No buts. Drink,” he said, forcing the glass once more onto your hands.

Pouting, you hesitantly bring the glass up to your lips before taking a huge gulp. You feel yourself slowly relax and finally being freed from the pounding headache that’s been bugging you all day.

“Better?”

You sighed nodding, “Yeah, better. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome” Jihoon took the glass from you before staring you down. You narrow your eyes at him, not backing down. You knew why he was doing that and frankly, it’s a very reasonable action at the time but you don’t want your ego bruised right now — not when you have a whole ass show to host.

Jihoon sighed before finally looking away. You almost grinned in triumph when the clipboard in your hand was snatched away from you.

“Hey!” you protested, “I was reading that!”

“No more reading for you,” Jihoon insisted.

“But why?” you whined.

“Why?” he responded, exasperated at your behavior. You only nodded at him which made him close his eyes and take a deep breath because God forbid he does anything to make matters worse for you.

“Well missy,” he started “the show is about to start and you look like a wreck.”

You gasped, “How dare you say that!” You started to rummage through your bag, trying to find your compact mirror in the mess. Finally feeling its smooth cover, you pulled it out of your bag.

You looked at him smugly before opening the compact mirror, “I’ll have you know that I’m feelin— oh my God! What the hell?!”

Looking at your reflection, stating you look like a mess would be an understatement at best. Your makeup and hair were all over the place. Frustrated, you closed your compact before fully facing Jihoon.

“Okay, fine. You’re right,” you muttered, rolling your eyes at his smug face, “I’ll just go to the restroom to fix myself up. Can you handle this in the meantime?”

“I’ve got this. Go,” he smiled reassuringly, motioning you to move with his head.

“Thank you,” you hugged him for a bit before finally moving towards the direction of the restroom. But before you got too far, you turned back to face him, “Hey, when Cheol comes before I’m done, will you tell him to wait here? I’d like to be the one to tour him around, especially for the main central exhibit.”

He nodded, “Sure, I’ll text you once he’s here.”

“Okay, okay. Thanks again!” you waved with a smile before turning back around and heading for the restrooms.

“God, help this girl,” Jihoon muttered, shaking his head at his friend’s actions.

Reaching the bathroom, you hurriedly took out all of your makeup from your bag and started to fix yourself up. Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone with you inside. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself relax for a bit. Now that you are alone, you can feel the nerves being replaced with the excitement for the event that you’ve been dreaming about ever since you got your first camera. It started off as a hobby before finally becoming a full-on passion for you as time goes by. And once you were given the chance to finally showcase all the hard work you’ve done over the past few years, you almost broke your neck from nodding yes. The idea was only cemented more by the full support given to you by your friends and family, especially from your boyfriend, Seungcheol. He was the sole witness to everything from the very start. He was there for you when you showed him your very first batch of photos and he was also there for you when you experienced one of the worst slumps you ever had. Now, your heart is leaping out of your chest from beating too hard with all the excitement and adrenaline this whole thing gives you.

You checked your phone for any messages from Seungcheol but were only met with your lock screen showing the two of you cuddled up with each other on your bed. You smiled at the memory. You remembered how Seungcheol, all exhausted and yawning from work, laid his whole weight on top of you as you wrapped one arm around him and the other combed through his hair. He looked so relaxed and contented in your arms that it would’ve been a crime not to have any kind of physical evidence of that moment. Thus, the photo was made and has become the official photo for your lock screen ever since.

Opening your contacts, you tried calling him to ask him when will he arrive at the venue but you were only met with a voicemail. Confused, you tried again but still faced the same result. Weird, you thought, he never turns off his phone.

You were about to bombard him with missed texts and calls when you heard a knock on the restroom door. Jihoon called your name before shouting from the other side of the door, “You in there? The show’s about to start.”

“Coming!” You huffed, frustrated at the situation. You decided that his phone probably died or something. It was unusual for him to let it get to that point since his work was quite dependent on his phone but you guessed it was inevitable. He’s probably even already waiting for you outside. At that thought, you hurriedly put everything away before exiting the restroom, following Jihoon towards the main hall where the stage was set up.

Once you reach the hall, your eyes immediately start scanning the room, trying to find the face you oh so very loved. But when you failed to do just that, you turned towards Jihoon who was watching the host as they introduced the start of the event.

“Hey, has Cheol arrived yet? I can’t find him,” you said before going back to scanning the crowd.

“I haven’t seen him either. I’m sure he’s just running late,” he reassured after seeing the anxious look on your face. You only nodded in response, too caught up with the fact that he’s not there yet.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard your name being called from the stage. Taking a deep breath, you felt Jihoon tap your shoulders good luck before you ascended the stage and formally opened the exhibit for everyone.

From then on, the whole event flew by rather smoothly. You greeted numerous guests as you walked around the exhibit, thanking some of your family members as they congratulated you on a job well done and catching up with your old friends as champagne was passed around. But throughout it all, there was not a glimpse of your lover anywhere in the hall.

You tried to be subtle with it, sneaking glances at the door every 5 minutes and checking your phone for any new messages. But as time goes by, you feel yourself turn sour the longer it goes on without your boyfriend by your side.

You may have fooled your friends and family with the fake smiles and laughs but Jihoon knew better. Being friends for almost a decade definitely paid off as he studied you from the other side of the room. He can see the way your eyes move away from the group you were in every time you see a familiar silhouette in your peripheral vision, only to witness your whole body deflate from getting your hopes up once you realize that you’ve mistaken someone else for him.

It was a whole different kind of pain for him to see his friend be like this knowing you don’t deserve this kind of treatment from anyone at all. When he saw you do your hopeless routine once more, he decided that it was time to stop it before it totally ruined your night. The night that you worked very hard for and he would be damned if he didn’t do something to protect it for you.

He probably spent 30 minutes on his phone outside the hall, trying to contact your boyfriend and failing miserably. He had already talked to your brother, who was a coworker of Seungcheol as well as the main reason behind how you met your boyfriend, asking for his help in finding him and getting him to your exhibit before it ends. Unfortunately, all he ever got from your brother was that Seungcheol left early and since he already knew about your exhibit, he just assumed that Seungcheol was already making his way to you. Jihoon sighed, thanking your brother before ending the call.

Checking the time, he felt even more disappointed and sad for you once he realized that it was already 8:00 pm, an hour since the event ended and there was no sign of Seungcheol anywhere. Deciding that there was no hope in calling and waiting only to be met with nothing, he went back inside to find you. He searched every corner of the exhibit trying to get a glimpse of you but you were nowhere to be found. That’s when he remembered your secret exhibit, a whole exhibit dedicated to your boyfriend as a surprise and a thank you for everything he’s done for you. If only you knew that you wouldn’t even get the chance to do that, maybe it would’ve saved you from further heartbreak and disappointment.

Jihoon rounded the last corner that hid the exhibit from the public view, releasing a breath of relief once he found you standing in front of the collage that took up one side of the room. From a distance, the collage seemed like a harmonious mess that crept outwards, looking as if its main goal was to swallow the whole room with the memories of you two. Crossing the room, he stood by your side, studying each memory frozen in time through your photos. It was silent for a bit between the two of you as you both studied the wall. He was silently gauging your emotions, trying to decipher what you were truly feeling right now. On the other hand, you were doing your best to compose yourself and ignore the fact that a single thread was the only thing holding you together and preventing you from breaking down. Unfortunately for you, Jihoon already knew of that. So when he asked if you wanted to talk about it, there was no stopping the dam from breaking.

It was all a blur from that point on. All you remembered was the amount of tears you produced at the time and the comforting feeling of having your best friend with you throughout. You were so out of it that you didn’t even have the mental capacity to remember how Jihoon drove you home and waited for you to safely reach your apartment before going home with the promise that he would check up on you tomorrow.

Stumbling through the apartment, you tried your best to remove your makeup and change clothes before flopping down on your bed. Lying face down in the comfort of your bed finally made you feel the exhaustion running through your veins. And if you were only a little bit more conscious of your surroundings, you would’ve also felt the loneliness slowly creeping into your heart and settling right in the middle of it. A place in your heart that was already reserved for Seungcheol is now being filled by the still air of a vacant space beside you.

As you swim through the haze of your thoughts, you can make out a quiet ding of a notification from your phone. Turning your head in the direction of your phone, you picked it up, momentarily blinded by the brightness of your phone. Once your eyes are finally adjusted, you can finally make out the single notification that obstructs your view of Seungcheol’s contented smile on your lock screen. The small hope that bloomed in your chest when you read the name of the sender was only crushed once you read the content of the message. A tear you didn’t know you still had in you rolled down your cheek onto your pillow. You then wondered how your soft mattress was able to carry the heavy weight in your heart but you were too tired to dwell on it too much.

From: the loml <3

Hey, sorry I wasn’t able to visit your exhibit. An old friend of mine was in town and invited me to his small welcome-back party. I already agreed when I remembered your exhibit was on the same day but I couldn’t really back out. I hope you understand. I’ll make it up to you. Love you!

Sent 10:16 pm

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises

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itneverendshere · 1 year ago

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i did something great - r.c (part three)

people asked and I delivered, here's part 3!! part 1 and part 2 warnings: SMUT; rafe cameron x kook!reader; exboyfriend!topper; possessive!rafe; mentions of violence (rafe beats the shit out of topper); mentions of slut-shaming;

Rafe's losing it.

He’s got that look like he might actually kill someone, like he wants to kill Topper right here, right now. But he knows you’d give him hell for it, and honestly, that’s the only thing holding him back.

His hands are shaking, fists clenched so tight it looks like his knuckles might pop. And Topper? That smug piece of shit is standing there, completely unaware—or maybe he just doesn’t care—that Rafe’s about a millisecond away from snapping. Rafe can’t stop replaying it in his head: Topper’s hand hitting your face. The way you probably winced. It’s burning him up inside, but he’s fighting to stay cool, for you.

Eyes locked on Topper, he's moving through the crowd like a damn bulldozer, his muscles bulging under that half-open shirt, tension rolling off him. Everyone at this party seems to know what’s about to go down because they’re all backing off, making space like they don’t want to be anywhere near when he finally explodes.

When he gets close enough, Rafe doesn’t even need to yell—his voice is low, dangerous. “Thornton. A word.”

Topper laughs, of course, thinking this is all a joke. “Tired of her already?”

He grits his teeth, trying to keep it together. “Keep it down, or I’ll shove that beer up your ass.”

But Topper just keeps pushing. “You should thank me, man. I handed her to you on a silver platter.”

Rafe’s practically vibrating with anger, but he’s holding on by a thread. “Stay the fuck away from her.”

Topper takes a step back, that cocky grin slipping just a little. “I’ll do whatever I want with her.”

He steps forward, voice cold, like ice. “Not anymore.”

But then, Topper pulls that smirk back and goes too far. “I’ve been a lot closer to her.”

Rafe tenses, jaw tight, Topper hit a nerve. But he's not backing down. “I know exactly how close you got.” His tone is lethal, like he's already picturing what he's going to do next.

Topper laughs, but it’s forced. “I know you’ve always had a thing for whores. Keep it down, will ya? It’s embarr—”

And that’s it.

Rafe snaps. His fist slams into Topper’s jaw with a crack that cuts through the party noise. The fucker stumbles back, knocking into a table as everyone around them gasps. Rafe’s hand is throbbing, but it doesn’t matter. That punch? Worth it.

“If you even look at her again,” He growls, “I’ll make you regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Topper’s tough-guy act is crumbling fast. He’s seen what happens when someone crosses Rafe, and right now, he’s realizing how deep he’s in. He steps closer, looming over him, voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll be watching you. If you touch her again, I’ll make sure you pay for it. This is your warning.”

The crowd’s buzzing, whispering, but Rafe doesn’t care. His eyes are locked on Topper, daring him to make a move. He's trying to save face, mutters something about how you're not worth it. “I know you, Cameron,” he adds, like he’s still got some upper hand.

Rafe just smiles, a dark, almost mocking grin. “You think you know me?”

And then Topper makes his final mistake: he swings. But he’s way too close, way too slow. He dodges it like it’s nothing, and now, Topper’s messed up big time. The calm that settles over Rafe is worse than the fury—there’s no mercy left.

He moves fast, a brutal uppercut that lands right on Topper’s nose. The sickening crack echoes, and before that piece of shit even hits the ground, he’s out cold. Kelce catches him just in time, barely keeping him from face-planting on the floor.

Rafe steps back, shaking out his hand, and smirks down at Topper’s limp body. “Sweet dreams, bitch.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

When your boyfriend climbed through your window at 2 in the morning—hair a mess, hands bruised—you were ready for a whole scene. Maybe he was drunk, maybe he was about to have a meltdown, maybe there’d be some tears.

But not this.

The look in his eyes, the way his knuckles were split open, shirt barely hanging on... Yeah, it was obvious. He’d punched the shit out of Topper at that party. And maybe if you weren’t completely caught up in him, you’d care, maybe give him a lecture about how fighting doesn’t solve anything.

But right now? Not a single word about it crosses your mind.

Instead, you let out this little squeak as he presses you deeper into the mattress, one of his big hands planted between your shoulder blades, forcing your back into this ridiculous arch while he’s fucking you within an inch of your life. His thrusts are deep, like he’s trying to drown himself in you, each one harder than the last, and you can’t stop the sobs spilling from your throat.

You’ve already come twice—once from his fingers and once from his mouth—and now your body’s basically jelly. Your mind? Long gone, floating somewhere far away.

“Rafe…” You manage to whisper, barely.

“Hm, flower?” His voice is teasing, all low and rough, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Jesus.”

“Nah, just me,” he chuckles, this smug little grin in his voice. “You said you could take it, remember?”

And there it is—your stupid mouth, writing checks your body can barely cash. It’s almost laughable how you can’t even think straight when he’s near you, touching you. How is it even fair that someone can be this ridiculously hot, have the biggest dick you’ve ever seen, and be cocky as hell?

Your breath catches as he hits that spot deep inside you, over and over again. You swear your entire body is trembling from the intensity. “Said you’d be good for me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, making you shudder.

“Can you just—" You try to ask, but your words falter as he pulls your body up, pressing your back against his chest, lips brushing your neck. The sight of him—his messy hair, flushed cheeks, the way his chest is slick with sweat—it leaves you speechless.

“Just what?” he smirks, like he’s reading your mind, and then his hand slides down, fingers finding that sensitive spot between your legs, circling in just the right way. “This?”

Your body jolts from the overload of sensation, eyes rolling back as you let out this desperate sound, hands gripping the sheets like they’re your only anchor. His hips keep moving, slow and deliberate, driving you insane.

“Flower,” he hisses, his voice barely controlled. “Behave.”

He watches the way his cock disappears into you, completely mesmerized. His eyebrows knit together in concentration, lips slightly parted.

Fucking hell.

You can feel him trembling behind you, groaning with each thrust. You reach back, fingers tangling in his hair, giving a soft tug. He groans low in your ear, and you let out this little moan that has him shuddering.

He’s sucking on your neck, leaving marks that you’re sure will be there for days. “Rafe…” you whine, voice all broken and breathless.

He buries his face in your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you. “Have no idea what you do to me, flower,” he mutters, his voice rough and dark. “You’re mine.”

The heat radiating off him is almost unbearable, his eyes wild and dark, consumed with desire.

“I’ll kill him,” he breathes, his words hitting you like a punch. He’s angry, really angry, and you can feel it in every sharp thrust. But all you can think to say is.

“Later. Fuck, you can kill him—later.”

You’re flat against the mattress again, your cheek pressed to the bed, and it feels like he’s going to fuck you straight through it. Honestly, you’d let him.

“Fucking—” His hips snap harder, hitting your g-spot, and you you mangle his name into the fabric. "So good f'me."

He’s pounding into you now, each thrust harsher than the last, and you’re clenching around him, the heat of your orgasm building up again until there’s nothing left but him, him, him. Your vision blurs, your body trembling uncontrollably as a third orgasm crashes through you, leaving you completely wrecked.

You glance at Rafe from the corner of your eye, watching the way sweat clings to his skin, and it takes your breath away. Your body’s gone limp, muscles clenching around him, and you can hear his deep moan as he finally lets go, his release filling you.

“Fuck” he whispers, both of you panting, his chest pressed tight against your back, "I love you."

"I love you too."

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cakerybakery · 3 months ago

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Cain pushed around his porridge in the bowl with his spoon, “it’s too hot.”

Taking his eyes off feeding Abel in his lap, Adam waited for Cain to said something else before sighing, “blow on it.”

“I diiiiiid! And it’s still hooooot!” Cain whined and slumped down in his seat.

“Well, not much I can do buddy. Just blow on it and eat it. We have to get going.” Adam went back to feeding the fussy toddler who tipped the bowl of porridge into their laps.

It was warm but not hot and Adam groaned. It took forever to grow the grains for their breakfast and now they were both dirty.

Abel babbled, “oh no.” And squished it between his fingers before jamming his hand into his mouth to eat.

Adam scooped as much as he could in the bowl and set Abel down on the ground. He needed to go out to the well and get some fresh water to bathe Abel in. He had to wash out their robes. At least it was summer and they would dry fast in the sun.

“It’s still to hot, dad!” Cain whined again. “I want fruit instead.”

“Little busy, bud. Just eat your porridge. It’s not too hot.”

Adam peeled off his robe then started to pull Abel out of his while he giggled and tried to crawl away.

“But it is too hot! I don’t want to eat it.”

As Adam pried Abel out of his wet and dirty clothing he ignored Cain. He just needed to focus on one thing at a time.

“Dad! Dad! Daaaad! I want to eat something else!”

“Just est your food, Cain. Abel! Get back here!” Adam grabbed at Abel but he was already making his way to Eve and his room. “Hold on buddy. Mommy’s sick today. We’re letting her rest today.” He looked over at Cain. “You finished eating up? You two are coming with me today and there won’t be any snacks.”

“I don’t want to eat it. Mom’s is better. Why can’t she make breakfast?” He pouted and stirred his cooling food around.

Finally he got Abel naked and went to go get some water from the well when there was another crash from the table.

Turning around, Cain’s bowl of porridge was on the floor and the smug look on his face wiped away when he noticed Adam looking at him. “It was an accident!”

It was always an accident.

Adam wondered if Cain wasn’t Lucifer’s. Annoyingly, he knew Cain was all his, but still, with the way he acted, sometimes Adam hoped otherwise.

Guilt wormed its way into his heart at the thought. Adam just wished he knew what was going on in his son’s head.

He just picked up Abel so the boy wouldn’t get into the mess and walked out of the house. Down to the well he carried Abel, putting him down to chase a bug as he drew some water.

“Troubles?”

“Fuck me!” Adam nearly jumped out of his skin as Lucifer’s voice hit him like a cold splash of water.

“Hmm, is Eve not putting out because I could arrange something.”

“Fuck off. I regret thinking your name.” Adam started drawing up water again as Lucifer hopped onto the wall of the well.

“Oh darling, you’ve been thinking about me? How sweet.” His voice was overly sweet and Adam rolled his eyes at the fakeness of it.

How he could ever have once fallen for such an obvious asshole… er, an obvious trick of the voice.

Whatever.

His crush was nearly ten years ago, Adam was over it.

Eve was better in every way. She was actually sweet. And she told actually funny jokes and didn’t laugh at him for not knowing shit and then say, “oh it’s nothing, you’re just too cute.” She was smart and helped him and didn’t just watch him fail. She was a good wife and took care of things closer to home, the chickens, the children, meals, and home while he hunted or tended to the fields and livestock further away. He didn’t need Lucifer and his lies.

“The only reason to think of you is to wonder how much of a bad influence you and your apple were on humanity.” Adam pulled up the bucket and bent to grab Abel.

There was a slap against his bare ass and he quickly turned to face Lucifer, balling up his fist and leaving Abel on the ground.

Lucifer flashed him a cheeky smile, “there was a bug.”

Adam swung and punched Lucifer in his nonexistent nose. As the demon tumbled down the well Adam shouted after him, “there was a bug.”

He gathered up Abel and the bucket of water and stormed into the house.

The splashing and sputtering from the well made him smile the rest of the day. Even as he scrubbed Abel, their clothing, and the floor clean and well into the evening after harvesting and gathering, even when he had to make lunches and dinner and care for poor sick and fevered Eve.

He closed his eyes by the fireplace that night with a smile on his lips and the memory of Lucifer’s pained and surprised face as he fell on his mind.

“Ohh what do we have here?” Lucifer voice echoed in his mind and Adam stood up straight in the middle of the field.

“Lucifer?” He looked around.

~~~

From here it gets FUN!!

Something for all the little adamsapple lambs out there. Tell me what you all think

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam x lucifer

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jojikawa · 2 years ago

Note

could i request baby making with chamber? so much foreplay, multiple orgasms with the hottest dirty talk, breeding-kink-ish and the best aftercare?🥹

i really love your writing!!

CHAMBER x FEM!READER

tw// NSFW Themes (sex), unprotected sex, poorly google translated French, lap-sitting, spanking, Vincent casually sexualizing fem-bodied reader in a public setting, choking, light BDSM, breeding kink brain rotted Vincent, dirty talking, sub reader, dom Vincent, oral (both giving and receiving) aftercare.

by Sanyulmi via Twitter

Everyone in the protocol celebrated their off days differently. Pheonix spent his time trying to get at different girls or—Jett. Yoru spent his time with games or taking a ride out to the garden. Raze would spend time with Killjoy, etc!

Your days were different, though. You often found yourself out of the country or at a resort somewhere in France. The warm air, the exquisite food selection, and the company of Vincent Fabron. He was the man generous enough to spoil you any chance he got. He simply adored you. Vincent would do anything to put a smile on your face. Vacations became the norm at the very beginning of your relationship with him. As soon as his bank account blew up from his sales of weapons, Vincent became Chamber. It was quickly dubbed to be the perfect relationship.

Now, what about the future?

Vincent always dreamed of starting a family with you. He wondered how your children would look and how he would fair as a dad. He was a man that could do anything since he wasn’t sentenced to endlessly working to provide. The dream of being able to spend time with his family.

It was a Friday morning when he finally came to his senses. The two of you have been planning parenthood for a while but there was no set date of when you’d try for a baby. It was just something that…would happen. He was also tied up with his scheme with mirror Vincent. Another thing was that he didn’t want to pull you away from the protocol if you were truly enjoying your time with them. He was very considerate.

Until…he wasn’t.

Sometimes you were just too hard to resist.

The French man found himself staring at you, respectfully. You two were relaxing on the beach together and you were just an arm’s length away from each other. He watched as you took off the silk kimono, revealing a bikini that left nothing to the imagination. It brought together your breasts for flattering cleavage. The bikini bottom was a high-rise thong that made your waist look small and your hips curvy. You hadn’t been paying Vincent any mind the whole time until you decided to finally get up.

You turned around. “Vince, I think I’m gonna go in the water for a bit-“ You trailed off when you saw his smug face that was previously staring at your ass. “Vincent.” You narrowed your eyes. The sudden shift in your tone caused him to snap out of his daze. His eyes then rose upward to your breasts. So shameless.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and breaking the line of sight. “What are you doing?” You asked, unamused at his behavior. He wasn’t the gentleman he always portrayed himself to be. You knew him best.

“Oh, me? I am just enjoying the view.”

A giggle left your mouth. “Oh really? I believe the beach is over there but for some reason, you just can’t keep your eyes off of me.” You placed your hands under your breasts making them jiggle just a bit. He wanted you so badly. “There are things in this world that are far more beautiful than this beach.” He took a sip of the nearby cocktail that was sitting on the end table beside him.

“Mmm. Who knew I could have found someone so romantic.” You smiled softly before eyeing him once more. “Are you not hot wearing all of that?” You saw that he was still wearing his usual attire. A suit. At the beach.

You loved his look but he was the only one dressing like that…apart from the bodyguards that were just out of sight.

“Of course, mon amour, you know I have my suits made to be breathable,” Vincent muttered as he adjusted the umbrella over his head for more shade. “Well, can you help me finish putting on some sunscreen?” You grabbed the bottle you had previously been using before politely giving it to him.

“Anything for you.”

You smirked at Vincent before sitting on his lap with your back to him. You brushed your hair out of the way, revealing the exposed skin of your back. You heard him fiddling around with the bottle, removing his gloves before applying it accordingly. The process was normal at first until he would get to your lower back. His hands were roaming a little…too much. You felt his fingertips dig themselves into your waist before his hands firmly found themselves gripping your hips. Your perfect baby-bearing hips.

Was it true that some men become more attracted to women based on their ability to carry children? Maybe…but for Vincent, it was very true! You were the only woman worthy of carrying his seed.

“Mmm. You don’t miss a meal, do you, Mon trésor?” He muttered under his breath, taking in every ounce of you. Perverse thoughts filled his mind as he undressed you even more with his eyes. His comment took you by surprise, almost making you jump at his words. “Vincent?! We’re in public.” You absentmindedly shifted your weight beneath him. The friction began making his pants tighten. “Oh, l know, sweetheart but I hardly get to enjoy you until we have time alone like this. I miss it so very much~”

“Maybe later if you’re good.” You remove yourself from his lap. The expression he made was almost cute. He definitely missed you in more ways than one. It wasn’t something he could control either. His eyes always lingered on you, every day of the week.

You then left Vincent to be by himself for a little bit. Not only could he be smothering sometimes, but it was also just nice to be able to explore some parts of the resort by yourself. It wasn’t long before your husband caught up to you, finally dressing in appropriate attire for the weather. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help but place your hands on your cheeks and smile like a complete idiot.

“Aww, Vince, you look so cute.” You remarked as you made your way over to him. Although embarrassed, Vincent smiled as well. It was always nice having a pretty woman call him “cute”. “Well, mademoiselle, I do have to admit that I was getting a little warm.” Vincent sighed, eyes lingering once again on your exposed assets. He wanted nothing more than to just fondle your breasts, not caring who was looking. “Just in time for dinner as well.” You snapped him out of his daze. You knew Vincent to be more engaging than this but you just assumed he was probably tired from traveling.

The two of you made a reservation at a nearby restaurant. It was much fancier than anything you’d eat at, personally, but you could never say no to thoughtful gestures.

The evening began well. The two of you were seated quickly by the staff because of Vincent’s status so you were happy. There was a scheduled performance so he had a booth reserved where you could sit side by side instead of just across from one another. That was when Vincent’s behavior finally began to make sense to you.

When you received the menu to order, you felt his hand creep up your thigh, beneath the table. “Vincent.” You placed your hand over his. “The night’s almost over, can’t you wait a little?” But your statement was ignored by him gingerly rubbing your inner thigh. His fingertips just brushed the crotch of your bikini bottoms.

No one was able to see, not when the waiter that had come by to deliver your pitcher of water…before promptly spilling it on you!

You instantly lose the feeling of pleasure as the cold water washed over your chest, dripping into your lap. It was too much water to make a scene to stop the performance, but it was enough to soak you. Now you want to change.

“I-I’m so sorry, Miss!” The young waitress began apologizing profusely. It was clear that she was new, so you wouldn’t hold it against her. “Oh, it’s alright, I guess.” You muttered, beginning to shiver as well.

You had been expecting Vincent to intimidate the young lady. This was a 5-star restaurant and he paid a lot to bring you here but…he was distracted. Again.

He watched the cold water stimulate your breasts. It hardened your nipples so much that they were practically poking through your bikini top. It felt like it was only the two of you in the room. The subtle movements of your breasts jiggling as you receive the towel from the manager to dry yourself. He saw you turn towards him, mouthing something he couldn’t hear. You noticed his eyes were looking at you at all.

“—…cent…”

“…Vincent!”

Finally, Vincent made appropriate eye contact. “Do you think we can maybe go back to the hotel so that I can change? My swimsuit is really clingy to my skin.” You instinctively pulled up the strap and let it go to slap your skin, making your breasts bounce once again.

“U-Um, chérie, you’re right. Let’s go to the room and come back.” The French man cleared his throat before helping you out of the booth. You smiled at the manager before asking her to hold your booth until the two of you came back.

Upon entering the room, Vincent quickly broke off from you, locking himself in the bathroom. ‘What’s with him?’ You thought to yourself. Although dumbfounded, you carried on, undressing and looking for something super cute to match Vincent. When he exited the bathroom, he was met with a pleasant surprise.

Your damp, naked body.

“There you are.” You sighed. “Do you remember what bag I put my other outfits in?” You bent over, rummaging around in different bags until you found what you were looking for. “Oh, here they are. They were in your bag.” You giggled to yourself. “How did that happ-“ You cut yourself off, feeling a presence behind you.

Vincent pressed his body up against yours from behind. His masculine arms enveloped your frame into his. Your ass ground up against his bulge. “Je suis désolé chérie but I just wanted to let you know how good you looked today.”

You hummed, leaning further into him. “Oh really? I could already tell you wanted to say something by how you were staring at me with those hungry eyes.”

A hand moved from your waist to one of your breasts, and his fingers brushed your nipples, gripping and twisting them to make them hard once again.

“Vincent! The dinner~!” You whined. “I know, sweetheart.” He replied, in a low voice. “You’ve been teasing me all day with that body of yours and I’ve held this feeling in as well.” Vincent removed his tie. He released you, allowing you to turn and face him. “Can we do it my way, now? It’s been all week.”

Your lips parted for just a moment. At first, you couldn’t remember exactly what he was referring to but in a split second, it came to mind. He wanted to do it without a condom. He didn’t particularly like the way it felt for him but he’d always wear them anyway. He proposed the idea of doing it without one because he wanted to feel your walls without any restraint.

“Fine, but we have to be fast. I don’t want to miss the show.” You said sweetly before Vincent promptly took both of your hands and put them together. He wrapped his tie around your wrists, making a cute bow on the front side for you to be satisfied with. You exhaled, lowering yourself to your knees where his growing cock was.

“Go ahead, don’t be shy.” He placed his hand on top of your head. Your face heated up as you meekly listened to him, pulling his dick out of the trousers. The tip was already strained with precum when you began to kiss it softly. Moans exited Vincent’s mouth when your soft plump lips came in contact with his cock. The gently placed hand on your head began to grip your hair.

You made swirls with your tongue before letting it deep into your mouth, touching the back of your throat. Your actions made him tremble and jerk at the pleasure. Saliva dripped down your chin and the sight of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick was enough to make him cum for the first time. His load filled your mouth with most of it slipping down your throat.

Vincent pulled his dick out of your mouth. Now, he was really getting into it. “Is that all?” You managed to say. You whipped your mouth of any more contents and swallowed what was left. “We are only just getting started. You are good at what you do, you know.” He raised his hand to brush the strands of hair out of your face due to his roughness. “So, I’ve been told.” You remarked. Vincent chuckled. “I know it’s something I’ve said a lot by now.” He picked you up, placing you on the bed.

“I’m going to breed you so well, mon amore.” Vincent's smirk sent chills up your spine. The only thing you could do was patiently wait until you were bred, honestly. The two of you kissed passionately. It started innocently and progressed into something needier—hungry. You failed to quiet the moans coming out of your mouth when he moved to your collarbone and breasts. His teeth and tongue abused your tender skin, leaving marks that your co-workers would surely see very soon. “I can’t wait to fill your womb with my cum. I promise you will love it too, ma princesse.” His lips latched onto your nipple, sucking and enjoying the sight of you squirming at his pleasure. He sucked and played with your tits until they were so hard that just the wind was able to stimulate them.

“All day…” he began, his voice rumbling against your skin. “It’s taken so much out of me not to just rip those clothes off of you.” He chuckled. “And here you are, being a good girl and taking them off for me.” He resumed his actions, taking a hand and slipping it between your folds just to get an idea of how wet you were getting. “I better be the only one who can make you this wet.”

“Vince…” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. He was really just doing what he wanted with you. His kisses trailed down to your stomach and then your inner thighs. He spent a lot of time there, licking and teasing just above where your slick folds were. “Ahh, I remember you always being so tight. Even too tight for my tongue.” His thick wet muscle inserted itself inside. It was a combination of fingering and going down on you, consuming all the cream that dared to leak out. Your core was heating up between your legs. You didn’t have any control over your body. The only thing he wanted you to do was helplessly lay there and tremble at his touch.

“I want to hear how loud that pretty voice of yours can get.” Vincent declared against your skin. He ate you out nice and slow, edging you enough to drive you insane. “Vincent, baby, please!” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to find your high so that you could finally cum. Your thighs closed around his head as you felt the euphoric warmth wash over your body. Broken moans left your mouth and when you finally released Vincent, his mouth was covered in your cream. “I can tell you’ve really been holding it in.” He cleaned up what was left. Now it was time for the main show.

Vincent crawled on top of you, releasing the buttons of his shirt, allowing you to see his abs and the glistening sweat that coated his skin. “You still want more…?” You mewled, stomach churning with nervousness and pleasure. “Of course, mon amore. I’ve yet to breed you.”

You instinctively began to fidget in your bondage. His eyes were still hungry and it felt like if he were an animal, he would ravage you. You felt his dick rubbing between your folds, pre-cum leaking out and wetting your entrance. The way you shied away and hid at times like this gave him the strength to penetrate you. The feeling he got inside was something closer to joy or happiness when he saw your innocent expressions become not so innocent…

He began slow, thrusting into you firmly, making you gasp and jump with every stroke. He knew you were enjoying his pace when you wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer. Vincent couldn’t resist wrapping his hand around your neck, squeezing softly, and began to pick up the pace.

“You’re taking me so well, amore.”

The tip of his dick kissed your womb with fragments of his cum leaking inside. He was already getting close but he didn’t want to cum just yet.

You felt Vincent pull out. “I want to see that beautiful ass of yours.” He helped you turn over, effortlessly making your ass point up toward him. He took your cheeks in both hands, jiggling them so hard that the vibrations stimulate your pussy and make you wetter. It was abrupt but he would periodically slap them, just to see your reaction. He loved being the only person that could ever dream of doing this with you. Your cheeks turned red from the contact and now he was finally ready. He inserted himself inside once again. This time he was much more aggressive, pounding you much harder.

“V-Vincent!” You cried but he didn’t listen. The sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis was too intoxicating. “I have to breed you.” He said. “I need to get you pregnant with my kids.”

“You’re s-so selfish!” You whimpered. “You’re right, I’m so selfish.” He growled. “No one else can have you but me.” Years began to fill your eyes with overstimulation. Your core was burning and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I’m gonna cum…” You mumbled. Vincent chuckled deeply. “Then cum, beautiful. Squirt all over my big cock.”

Your body tensed up. Your nipples became hard and your eyes rolled back. You moaned loudly and the feeling of hyper-relaxation filled your body. You released your juices all over him. You felt his loud fill your womb as he grunted and gripped your ass cheeks while pushing himself further into you.

You were left speechless. You could definitely go another round but Vince seemed to be soft now. He was out of breath but the way he looked while tired made you blush. His face was red from blushing too. He was cute while flushed. “Oh my, what have I done to you?” The man sighed while eyeing you with an apologetic expression. He removed his tie from around your wrists.

“I think you should rest after that.” He suggested. You knitted your eyebrows together. “But the restaurant…” you whined. “Don’t worry, amore. We can go back tomorrow night, I promise.”

Vincent took it upon himself to run you a bath in the other room. He figured the warm water would soothe your holes and womb from what just occurred. It was a surprise but you actually needed help walking. Your left leg went numb from all the pleasure and he had to catch you from falling. He placed you in the tub and you thought that would be the end of it but he got in with you!

He was so very sweet, washing you in an innocent manner and even cuddling with you as you soaked. It was pretty much needed given everything that just happened. You hoped that this would satisfy him enough to finally enjoy the trip instead of being distracted by your ass breasts. He really made you smile sometimes when he was just being himself. You showered each other in kisses before exchanging “I love yous”.

“I love you, (y/n)!”

“I love you too, Vincent!”

#valorant #Valorant chamber #Chamber x reader #Valorant x reader #Valorant smut #Chamber smut #valorant headcanons #Valorant hcs #Vincent Fabron #Vincent Fabron x reader #Valorant fanfiction #valorant imagines #chamber headcanons valorant #[💌] - request

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abeautylives · 2 years ago

Text

Nothing Could Compare

a/n: This was supposed to be a blurb. I needed to get it out of my brain, but in typical fashion it got out of control. ALSO, the subject matter will not be for everyone I’m sure. Read the warnings 🍑

Parts 1 and 2

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: just over 7k

summary: Trying something new can be intimidating, but love finds a way 😂

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, mentions of masterbation (f. and m.), mentions of sexual situations, graphic sexual content, unprotected penetrative sex (vaginal and anal - surprise! it’s about butt stuff)

“So you have thought about it.”

He sounds entirely too satisfied with himself, the smug tone is paired with one eyebrow arched so high that it’s hiding halfway underneath the curls that fall over his forehead.

He’s sitting behind you on the edge of the bathtub, watching as you finish swiping mascara onto your lashes. You make sure he can see how far your eyes roll through the mirror. “Don’t sound so proud of yourself Josh, everyone thinks about it.”

That may or may not be true, but you’ve been thinking about it more often than you’ll admit. It’ll creep into your brain when you’re alone, when you miss him and your fingers are already inside you, doing a poor imitation of his. The thought will appear out of nowhere and doesn’t release its grip on you until you let yourself give in to the fantasy. So, on occasion, you’ve let a finger slip lower until it’s circling that place you’ve forbidden Josh from going. Maybe, once or twice, you’ve pushed it into yourself there, brain screaming… I wish it was him.

He stands to sidle up behind you, eyeing your face in the mirror and smoothing his palms over your ass before running his fingertips under the lace at your hips. “Hmm perhaps, but this is you we’re talking about. You gonna let me in, honey?”

What possessed me to even say anything?

It started with an innocent joke. Well, innocent may be an inaccuracy - Josh’s body had been laid over yours, the hot and sticky skin of his chest pressed to your back and pushing you into the mattress. While he was still seated inside your cunt, slowly going soft, he ran a hand from your shoulder, over your ribs and down your waist, stopping at your backside. A firm squeeze and a light smack later, he’d mumbled quietly, “Next time you should let me stick it in your ass.” He’d laughed as you bucked his body off of yours and slapped his arms away from you. You’d laughed as you told him to fuck off and keep dreaming.

He’s more curious than anything and would bring it up here and there, you’d made a quip about it that night at the beach house, and though his mind had been preoccupied then, he wasn’t lying when he said he believed he could convince you.

Maybe love and trust had made you more comfortable. While you’d always cared for Josh, you’d very recently confessed how your feelings had grown and changed over the last couple of months, much to his delight. Afterwards the sex had been unhurried, blanketed in devotion as you finally let love roll off your tongue when he spilled inside you.

The tipping point that convinced you to bring it up was a candid conversation with a friend. Joy always carried an air of sensuality and tended to speak freely about her sex life, which could be awkward for you considering her boyfriend is like your little brother. Often you would tune it out, but you were out having lunch together without the buffer of a Kiszka’s presence when she started to go into detail about the night prior. About Sam. You tried to focus on a particularly red cherry tomato that was eluding the tines of your fork as you poked through your salad, but something she said caught your attention.

“Wait, you’re into that?”

“Well… yeah, when it’s done right.” Her giggle is charming and genuine. “I mean, I haven’t done it with Sam, but we’ve done other things. I’ll get him there eventually.” She sounds confident and unbothered while telling you she wants her boyfriend to…

“So you want him to fuck you in the ass?!” You’ve said it entirely too loudly and a couple of disapproving faces are turned in your direction. Your cheeks turn red but you continue in a whisper, “Like… you like it? It feels good?”

Unfiltered, she described it to you and answered a multitude of your questions. “You thinkin’ about letting little Joshy…?” She wags her eyebrows instead of finishing her sentence.

“I… don’t know, I don’t know, maybe? I’m positive that he wants to.”

“Oh my god, you totally should. You have to do it right though.” She went on to explain what she meant, though you hadn’t asked. You got it. And the more you thought about it, the more you wanted it.

The more you wanted it, the harder it was to get it out of your mind. Every time he was fucking into you, whispering filthy things from above you, or behind you… your pussy would clench around him as the image flashed behind your eyelids. And Josh, none the wiser, would offer up a groan or an oh you like that honey? Little did he know.

And so, here you are getting ready in your bathroom while your sweet angel of a boyfriend waits for you. You’d been mulling it over in your head, how you were going to bring it up to him in earnest. Nothing sounded exactly right to you, so you figured you’d drop a hint and hope he grasped it.

“Babe? I wanna ask you something.”

“Ask away my love, I’m all ears.” His grin is wide and perfect, sweet and beautiful and your nerves calm when he calls you his love.

“Well, I was wondering… if you’d be interested in trying something… new.”

“Oh the possibilities! A new… restaurant? A new wine?” You’re giggling at his little display of drama. “Or… ooh is it something sexy? You wanna try something dirty, honey?”

There’s still a jesting quality to his questioning, but when he sees the way your mouth is set into a smirk, eyelids lowered, he knows he’s onto something. “Is it a sex toy? New position? Another person? Tell me, I’m dying to know.

Oh my god, it’s anal isn’t it?!”

Heat creeps across your cheeks and down your neck, suddenly embarrassed when he guesses correctly. Once you’ve admitted that you’ve thought about it, Josh is all in. Innocent curiosity shaping his features, he looks awestruck standing behind you with hands wandering over the exposed flesh of your ass and the lace of your panties.

“Not like right now, calm down.” You push your ass into his hips, forcing him to step back from you but he doesn’t go far.

Moving back in, he presses the length of his body into yours and moves your hair aside so he can get his lips on your shoulder, your neck. After a few soft kisses, he says it simply, as if it’s no big deal, “Mm you just let me know when you’re ready. I knew I’d convince you, you’re kind of kinky huh?”

He’s joking but you pretend to be offended, eyes narrowed and mouth dropped open in a silent scoff. “Watch yourself babe, or I’ll leave you out and just keep taking care of myself.”

“You’ve been doing it by yourself?!” You’re both laughing as you shove him out of the bathroom and shut and lock the door behind him.

Your date that night, a simple dinner at a less than fancy restaurant, had been filled with sly comments and lingering eye contact that had heat spreading over your skin. The days that followed were the same as you both continued to ponder over it without acting on it. Until Josh couldn’t take it any longer.

“Let me touch you,” he huffs it out with his thrusts, deep and steady into you, you’re already on your knees for him, face being pushed into your pillows.

“Yeah, please baby, m’so close,” it comes out muffled against the bedding and he knows you’re not talking about the same thing.

His hands are already gripping handfuls of the soft flesh of your ass and then sliding back to your hips to pull your body into his harder. You both curse, you call out his name and ask him again to touch you, please. Hands moving cautiously over your skin, he brings them back to your ass and squeezes so hard you think you’ll have five tiny bruises on each cheek tomorrow. His touch turns gentle despite the pace he’s set with his hips, and he spreads you to him, giving him a sinfully clear view of where he’s moving in and out of your cunt. But also…

“Wanna touch you here, please honey, tell me I can.” His voice is laced with desperation but he needs your permission.

You’re completely wasted on him right now, drunk on lust and love, you don’t hesitate.

“Do it do it, c’mon.”

“Fuck, okay baby,” he tests the waters first by slowing the rhythm of his hips and brushing the pad of his thumb over you, the first time he’s ever touched anyone there. Your skin is soft and warm and the whine that escapes your throat encourages him to do it again with a little more pressure. The sound that breaks through your lips is feral, a pleading moan.

“God damn, okay I’m doing it,” he reaches forward first, bending over your body and presses his thumb to your bottom lip, pushing it down and forcing your mouth to open. You accept it greedily onto your tongue, wrap your lips around it fully before sucking it in and coating it with saliva. “Fucking hell babe,” he whimpers when you suck it further into your mouth before opening it and releasing him.

Resituating into position, he’s stopped thrusting into you momentarily, dick throbbing but unmoving inside you as he focuses on the task at hand. As soon as he’s touching you again, swirling wet circles over you, you’re begging him for it.

“I will, I will. I don’t wanna hurt you-“

“You won’t Josh, I’m ready,” you cut him off and your words rush out of you, causing him to wonder just how often you’ve been tucking your fingers inside in secret.

He’s still nervous but you’ve begun pushing back against him, forcing his cock deeper inside you and his thumb to press harder against your hole. You’re mumbling low words of encouragement from below him and as they float up to his ears, the tip of his thumb crosses that forbidden threshold.

You can’t stop the hiss of air that you suck through your teeth.

“Fuck baby, are you okay? Do you want me to-“

“More, keep going. Please please please, keep fucking me.”

And he does, watching as he pulls out of you almost completely before crashing his hips into you and slipping his thumb deeper. Just a little. He keeps it tucked there just to the first knuckle as he finds the rhythm he’d lost, fucking into you rapidly, he can tell he’s close to finishing and the pleading words tumbling from your mouth are only pushing him there faster. He’s not expecting it when you say it.

“Fuck me with it, I can take it.”

He’s struck dumb by it, can’t find the words to offer even an affirmation, all he can do is what you’ve asked for. Moving his thumb at the same pace as his hips, he watches it slide out and get sucked back into you.

“Holy shit, I’m gonna cum babe I’m sorry-“

“Me too, me too don’t stop - oh fuck.” As if you spoke it into existence, your orgasm steals any other words you may have wanted to say, along with the breath from your lungs. When your muscles tense and your back arches, pushing your ass against his pelvis, he lets go with you. He can’t bring himself to move or relax when it’s over, his finger is still inside you so deeply that his palm is resting flush against your lower back.

“It’s okay, just do it slowly.”

He chuckles but doesn’t move yet. “How’d you know what I was thinking?”

“Because you always drop as soon as we’re done,” you tease, “and you haven’t moved a muscle. You’re not gonna hurt me.”

He’d eased himself from your body and left to clean himself up, returning to do the same for you.

For days afterward he wouldn’t stop pestering you for information.

What did it feel like?

You definitely liked it?

Should we get some… I dunno, some toys or whatever?

Wait, do you already have some?

And his most persistent question, “Can we do it again?”

He’s so naturally gentle and eager, and when the boys have to leave for three weeks he texts and calls you more often than he might have in the past. He misses you and spends what little free time he has thinking of you, dreams drifting to you almost nightly and causing him to wake up hard and frustrated. When they return home, he’s at your house as soon as he can be and though you’ve had many reunions over the years, this is your first since you told him you loved him too. Your pairing is frantic and demanding, hands and mouths making up for lost time and as you lay together after, he tells you that everyone wanted to get together and grab dinner that evening and your presence had been requested. Excited to see them, you drag him from the bed and into the shower with you and you end up getting to dinner late.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen the girls, not since before the guys had left, and once you and Josh have made it to your seats and ordered your drinks you’re all catching up on the last month. Your phone, lying face up on the table, lights up and you see it’s a text from Joy who’s sitting well within your line of vision, across from you to Sammy’s right. Curious what she would have to say that she couldn’t out loud, you snatch it up and hold it suspiciously close to your face.

Joy 💋: Soooooo? Did you do it?

Me: Lol nosy bitch

Me: No, not quite

Joy 💋: What are you waiting for?! We talked about it forever ago

Me: Idk I think we’re both nervous, he got scared he was gonna hurt me with just a finger lmao

Joy laughs aloud at her screen, offering a wave of apology and brushing Sam off when he asks what’s so funny.

Joy 💋: Girl you better take what you want, Josh would give you the moon if he could

Joy 💋: And all you want is a dick in your ass 😜

It’s your turn to laugh and you throw your phone back to the table. Feeling left out, Josh drapes an arm around the back of your chair and leans in to your ear. “What are you two devils talking about that’s so hilarious, honey?”

“None of your business, considering it was obviously a private conversation,” you turn your head to place a placating kiss to his cheek, but he catches your face in his hand and wraps his fingers around your jaw. He soaks it in when your eyes go wide and lock onto his, revels in it when he can feel the rest of the group watching. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but it isn’t the soft placement of his lips to yours as his hold on your face loosens and turns into a caress of your cheek. You raise an eyebrow in question when he pulls away.

“I’ll find out, I saw my name. That makes it my business.” He scans the other faces around the table with his eyes and finds they’re all trying desperately to ignore you both now aside from Joy, who keeps watching with a cheeky smile on her lips. When he brings them back to you he smiles, sweet as candy. “I love you honey.”

The distinct feeling of whiplash has a grip on you but his face, precious and pure, pulls the sentiment from your lips.

“I love you too Josh.”

“Awwwwwww!”

“Shut up Sam,” Jake leans across the table and reaches an arm out to slap the side of Sam’s head, then brings it back to the table to wrap his hand around Jita’s as he reclines back in his chair.

The rest of dinner passes without incident and you feel happy and whole being back together with your favorite people. Josh hasn’t put any distance between you since he’d wrapped his arm around your back, and even when he removes it his hand finds your thigh under the table. After a couple more drinks it’s started to wander, and you let it until he’s moved it so close to your cunt that the side of it is pressing into the center seam of your jeans, moving rhythmically as his fingers draw figure eights on the inside of your thigh. It doesn’t occur to you to stop him until a soft whimper floats from your mouth and out over the table.

The movement of his hand stops instantly and his face snaps to yours. Everyone’s does, actually.

“Josh if you don’t take her home and fuck her right, I’m going to! Byyyyeee!” Joy exclaims then dissolves into a fit of giggles as you and Josh both turn red, lips opening and closing but no words forming. Jita’s hand is over her mouth and her own cheeks are pink with transfer embarrassment.

Sam is cackling, a loud raucous sound, but Jake remains silent as he watches the scene unfold. Seated to your right, he reaches his left hand over to tap the underside of your chin and close your mouth before he leans in and does the same to Josh.

“Go home, the innocent patrons of this establishment have seen and heard quite enough, I’m afraid.” He’s shooing you off with his fingers while the others try to regain some semblance of composure.

You’re not sure how to react so you just do as you’re told, standing from the table and looking back down to Josh. When he turns his body to you he stays in his seat but meets your eyes with his.

“Let’s just go, Josh.” You speak quietly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. “Please.”

You’re simply asking but to his ears it sounds needy. Imploring. Like you’re begging. He feels his heart rate jump as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and holds it there with his teeth, analyzing you. His eyes darken slightly but you can see it happen, even in the dim lighting. As he releases his lip he takes a sharp breath in and on his exhale he says, “Yeah, okay honey. Let’s go.”

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket when he stands, going to leave enough cash with Jake to cover the two of you but Jake waves him off again.

“Get me later, have fun tonight.” A knowing smirk settles on his lips.

You both mumble an awkward goodbye to the table and walk toward the front of the building, but by the time you make it there you’re practically running. Outside, you race through the parking lot and pause to catch your breath when you reach either side of the car. Staring at each other over the roof, Josh cracks first. It’s a soft chuckle to start and as it turns into a belly laugh you can feel your own begin to bubble from your throat. You’re both wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies and Josh speaks.

“Get in the car Y/N, we have things to discuss.”

Confused but compliant, you get in and he follows suit. Once he’s pulled the car out of the parking lot you ask what exactly it is you need to talk about.

“First of all, I love you,” he pauses as you reply instantly, confirming that your feelings are the same.

“Second of all, I lied. I saw your phone, what Joy said. Don’t do that with your face, I wanna talk about it. I was… doing some research while I was gone.”

“Research, huh? What kind of research?”

“Okay just hear me out,” he continued on, babbling past the incredulous look on your face as he started listing everything you should do, an entire game plan worked through in his mind that he spouted off to you as if he was reading it from a textbook. You let him keep going, let him get every thought out of his pretty little head, but when he pulls your car into your driveway and parks, you reach a hand over the center console and place it high on his thigh. The contact stops his words short.

“Josh, babe… I’m really glad you’re excited about fucking me in my tight little ass,” the words feel foreign in your mouth but his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head and you’re infatuated with his reaction, “but I don’t need you to tell me how to do it. I don’t need to hear what’s best for me. I'd rather hear you beg me for what you’ve been wanting, what you’ve been asking for for almost a year. I wanna hear what you fantasize about. Tell me how it goes when you’re thinking of me, alone in your bunk in the dark…”

You can actually see his brain short circuiting, his lips are parted and no sound comes out aside from the breaths that he’s working hard to control. When the pink tip of his tongue darts out to run over his bottom lip, you watch the limited light shine off of the slick moisture left behind.

You give a squeeze with your hand that’s still on his thigh, then pat it lightly. “Lemme know when you figure it out, handsome.”

You leave him in the car.

By the time he makes it inside, you’ve already poured a glass of wine for yourself and one for him and made yourself comfortable on the couch. He pads into the living room slowly, running a hand through his hair where you watch it get stuck in his curls. When he tugs it free and looks up from the floor, you hold his glass out to him and pat the cushion next to you. He throws himself onto the couch, legs spread and head leaned against the back, wine glass cupped in both hands in his lap. You’re about to say something but he beats you to it.

“It usually starts slow,” his words are quiet but confident, he knows exactly what he wants to say. “Not every time, but I do always like to think about you going down on me. You look so pretty with your mouth full of dick.” He picks his head up to make sure you’re listening, but you're already spellbound and pulsing with need.

“You do. And I can picture it so clearly when my eyes are closed, I can almost feel it. I think about it just to get hard, works like a charm.”

He stops talking just to look you over. Your eyelids are already heavy and your bottom lip is held tight between your teeth. With a nod of your head, you encourage him to keep talking.

“I think about your pretty, pink pussy when I touch myself.” One of his hands has released his glass to touch himself now, adjusting himself in his pants. “Warm and wet, nothing compares to the real thing but I do what I can. I have a pretty vivid imagination, but my memories of you are better.”

You can feel yourself soaking your panties, this is better than you’d thought it would be. You always love it when he talks dirty - the words sound depraved coming off his sugar-coated tongue, normally so sweet. You press your thighs together and shift against the cushion of the couch.

“Keep going…” it’s a breathless whisper.

His eyes are now focused on the glass in his lap, on the finger he’s running over the rim. “Of course honey… See, I have to get creative with my hands but I’ve almost perfected it, it almost feels like you. Never as soft though.

And when I’m close to cumming, that’s when I have to imagine it. Because I’ve never done it, I don’t know what it feels like but I do remember how you felt around my finger. Hot. Tight, unbelievably tight. So soft, softer than your cunt, your mouth. I have to make it up to picture it, but I think about sliding it in, the way it felt when my thumb slid in, how you sucked me in. I hardly ever make it farther than that before I’m making a mess on my hand, my stomach.”

He leans forward to set his glass down, untouched by his lips. You set yours down too after taking a deep drink. A drop is rolling down your chin when you face him but he reaches up and catches it, his hand cupping your jaw. Instead of wiping it away he pushes it back up your chin and between your parted lips. He lets you suck it from his skin before he drags his thumb over your bottom lip and watches it bounce back into place.

“Josh, I-“

“You gonna let me in, honey?”

As if you could say no.

“Yeah… yeah, I want it.”

His hand is still on your jaw and he uses it to pull your face to his, your lips to his. It’s soft as he shifts your bodies so he’s laying over you, one leg between yours and the other foot planted on the floor. He pushes his knee against your core and you immediately roll your hips into it and let a whine out over his lips.

“Let me take you to bed,” he breaks from your mouth and breathes the words into you, “fuck you real dirty, princess.”

He rarely calls you that anymore, and never in moments like these, but right now it sounds wicked and wrong. Just like what you’re about to do.

“Please.”

Lifting you both from the couch, Josh hands you your wine and you each take a drink from your glasses, you finish yours, before taking his hand and walking ahead of him down the hall to your bedroom. There he disrobes you and you help him do the same, taking a certain amount of care but not moving too slowly. You’re both throbbing and leaking, incapable of waiting any longer.

Once you’re naked you tell him to get in bed, and he figures you’re in charge tonight so he does what you ask and props himself up against your headboard. His cock is resting on his stomach and leaving droplets of precum on the skin just under his navel.

“Need you inside babe, I hope that’s okay.” He loves foreplay, you both do, but his immoral storytelling in the living room has left your arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs and you can feel the slick slip of it as you walk to the bed to climb on and crawl to him.

“Whatever you want, honey. You’re already giving me everything I’ve dreamed of,” he laughs quietly but you’re dead serious right now.

Crawling into his lap, you’re straddling and hovering over it, gripping him immediately, slipping the head of him through your folds. You lower just enough to tuck him inside before you lean forward. He thinks you’re going to kiss him, puckers his perfect lips, but instead you lick a stripe over his bottom one and then speak against it.

“Call me princess again.”

Before he can question it, you’re sinking down on his cock slowly, rocking your hips until his are flush against yours and he’s seated deep inside you.

“Fuck, anything you want princess. Dirty girl, c’mere.”

When your arms wrap themselves behind his neck he thrusts up into you as he pulls your head in and forces your lips open with his tongue. He fucks your mouth with his as he picks up a shallow rhythm with his hips, fucking your cunt as his hand grips your hair at the roots. His other hand, having found its home on your hip, slides in toward your pussy and he runs his thumb over your slick flesh wrapped around him before bringing it to your clit. When you groan into his mouth he pulls your head back hard and fast, you gasp as your eyes meet his.

“Want you to cum for me, cum on my cock. I need to feel it, we don’t know what’s gonna happen once I’m in your ass.” The last words come out through clenched teeth, his jaw tight. He knows what he’s doing, knows his voice is going to make your cunt squeeze him. It works, and he keeps his thumb moving against your clit, tight circles, not too hard, not too soft. He’s playing your body like it’s an instrument and he’s classically trained.

“Jesus, Josh, you feel so fucking good babe, I’m almost there, so close.”

He doesn’t change his motions with his hand but he can’t help but fuck up into you just a little harder.

He also can’t help it when his grip on your hair tightens, just the tiniest bit, and he yanks your head backwards. It forces your back to arch and the fire burning in your belly explodes, a string of expletives mixed with Josh’s name burst forth from your mouth.

“God damn princess, that’s right, keep going.” He doesn’t stop thrusting into you until your muscles go lax, then he pulls you to his chest and goes still for a few long moments, petting over your hair and running his fingers down your back. He’s pressed your face into his neck so you leave kisses there, lap your tongue over his skin to taste his sweat.

“You did so good for me honey. We can stay like this for a bit, if you want.”

“Mmm. M’not ready to stop,” you mumble into his shoulder as you lift your hand to point a lazy finger to your bedside table. His eyes follow and you tell him, “There’s lube in there. Don’t ask, unless you wanna know.”

His laughter rumbles through his chest. “I’m sure I can imagine what you’ve been up to. Shit, I have imagined it. Lay back for me, I’ll grab it.”

He helps you climb off of his dick and out of his lap, lays you gently against the mattress toward the foot of the bed before rolling to dig through the drawer of the table.

“Princess… What is this?” He's already tossed the modest bottle of lube to the bed, but when you crack an eye open in his direction, he’s holding a pair of cute little pink silicone toys between his fingers, one a little bigger than the other. You knew they were in there, knew he would see them.

“Ummmmm, plugs?” You giggle, unashamed.

“Have you been… practicing? I don’t even know what you call it.” He’s mystified by your nonchalant tone.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you make sure he’s paying attention. “Josh…” He tears his eyes away from the pink pieces of silicone to look into yours. “I told you, I want this, and I’m ready. Come fuck me.”

Dropping them from his fingers, the plugs land back in the drawer and he climbs back up and over your body, his dick is hot and heavy against your thigh. He leans in and runs the tip of his nose over your shoulder and up the side of your neck before whispering in your ear, “You really are a little freak, aren’t you princess? You had me fooled.”

“Hmm you bring it out of me, what can I say? You’re so sweet and pure, makes me wanna dirty you up.”

“Fuck, let’s do it then, roll over.”

You do it quickly and once you’re on your hands and knees you have to grip the bedding to calm the shakes vibrating up your arms. Josh already has the cap open on the lube, but he notices.

“You okay? You can always back out.”

“I’m good, I’m good. Excited.”

“Maybe we should have a, what do you call it, a safeword? Just in case. I really want this but I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

You turn your head to see him over your shoulder. “We can just use colors, if you want. Red, yellow, green? Pretty self explanatory.” He nods his head in agreement before bringing himself up to his knees and moving between your legs. His hand finds its way between your thighs and he runs two fingers through your slick before nudging them inside. When a satisfied hum slides up your throat and your head drops forward, he pulls them out and swirls them through your folds again to gather as much of your release as he can.

“Fingers first honey.”

“Yeah, do it, please Josh.” You sound fucked, and he supposes you are.

The way your legs are spread, your ass is already presented to him on a figurative silver platter, but he can’t resist using his other hand to grab a handful of one of your cheeks and squeezing it, spreading you further. When his fingers land between them, your body jerks forward in surprise.

“Ah ah, relax and take it princess.”

Fuck.

His slick fingers move against you and you’re both already whimpering, him at the sight and you in anticipation. When he adds pressure, your whimpers turn to whines.

“You want both?”

“Yes, please, now Josh!”

Crossing them slightly, his middle finger over his index, he pushes them past your entrance and feels it as you immediately clench around them, barring him from going further.

He whispers, “Relax, I’m gonna take such good care of you.” You know he’s right, regardless of his inexperience, he’s going to make you feel good no matter what. He always does. You feel the tension release from your muscles and he does too, as soon as he’s able to he pushes his fingers deeper.

A guttural moan rips from your throat and he starts to work you over, pumping them in and out of you slowly until they’re inside you as far as your body will allow.

“Jesus Christ Y/N. You’re so fucking tight, I don’t know if I’m even gonna fit.” His voice sounds strained, like just the thought is pushing him to the edge. Or the thought of not being able to get inside you has him distraught. You can’t tell, your brain is buzzing, body thrumming with pleasure.

“More, keep going.”

He works them out, in, a little faster and your arms give out, face landing on the mattress. It immediately strikes Josh that this is exactly how you’d been propped up and begging for him when he first touched you like this.

Leaning to the side so he can see your face, he finds you with your eyes closed tight and teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your hands have a white knuckled grip on the comforter.

“Color babe?” He says it softly, quietly.

“Green green, so fucking green, don’t stop.”

He leans back up to watch his fingers move, smiling to himself. He quickens the pace again and sees it when a drop of your arousal slips from your pussy and creeps its way down your inner thigh. His free hand moves to wrap around his dick and strokes it slowly a couple times.

“Oh, honey. Your pretty little cunt is making a mess, let me slip it in just for a minute, fill you up all the way.”

Your head just nods wildly against the bed, but he sees it. Fingers pushed deep inside you, he grips himself a little harder and runs the tip over your wet skin before sliding in easily to the base.

You moan in unison and he thrusts his hips into you slowly, pumps his fingers at the same rhythm.

“Yesyesyesyes, fuck babe it’s so good,” you’re whining, sound like you’re on the verge of tears and it has him pulsing against your walls.

“You’re so fucking good, letting me fuck both of your holes, you’re filthy babe. And all mine.”

Jesus.

“A little more, just a little more, want you inside,” he’s already buried deep inside you but he knows what you want.

“Yeah princess? You need me inside your tight little ass? You’re already taking me so well,” his throat constricts, if he keeps going like this he’s gonna cum before he’s ready.

“Please, do it now Josh, I need it!”

He slams his hips against the back of your thighs, does it again and curls his fingers inside you at the same time. When you curse, he slides himself from your cunt slowly, watches as he withdraws and his dick bobs in the air once it’s left you. Pulling his fingers back gently, he also watches you close around nothing once you’re empty.

“Fuck, okay,” a little overwhelmed, he reaches around you for the lube and quickly squeezes some out into his hand and strokes it over himself. “Shit.” He adds a little more then swipes what’s left on his fingers over you. From above you, eyes raking down the curve of your back and down at what he’s about to do, he lets a string of spit fall from his lips.

It lands at the top of your asscrack and he watches as it rolls down, rubs it over you.

“Ready princess?”

“Do it, fuck me, take me, do it do it.”

He shakes his head in disbelief that you’re real right now, his curls shake around his cheeks, the ones over his forehead are stuck there.

With a hand wrapped tight around himself, he runs the head down from the top of your crack following the path his saliva had taken. Looking at the scene before him, he’s still not convinced that the head of him, swollen and flushed, is going to fit. With a thumb pressed to it, he rubs it over your hole and pushes into it.

“Relax honey, relax, let me in.”

You focus on loosening the tension in your muscles, sinking further into the bed.

“Good girl baby, so good for me…” He pushes into you again and has to close his eyes and take a deep breath as soon as he sees and feels your body accept him. The sounds spilling from your mouth combined with the intense pressure of you wrapped around the tip of him are almost too much. You’re murmuring below him, a string of please and more, you’re almost sobbing it.

With a strong grip on your hips, slowly, so slowly, he pulls your body to his. Only about half of him is inside you when you push your ass back and he disappears into it.

You’re both cursing, panting, sweating.

While your body adjusts to the size of him, you stay still for a moment.

“Green?” Your voice lilts in question, sounds entirely too innocent and sweet for the moment. It makes him chuckle, but the movement forces a groan past his lips.

“Heh, yeah, my favorite color. I’m not gonna last, wanna fuck you hard, fast. You want that?”

“So bad, let me have it sweet boy.”

He retreats from you just as slowly as he’d entered, pushes his hips flush to you again. Repeats it until he’s sliding easily in and out of you. He can’t stop himself from dropping his head and spitting on you again, hitting his target and watching as it spreads over him as he moves through it. When he picks up speed you call out to him, not needing a response, just needing him to know that it feels good, perfect and full. When he’s worked himself up to a bruising pace, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your backside, you push your face into the comforter and bite down on it. You’re tiptoeing the border between pain and pleasure, you know he’d stop if he knew but when a pathetic whimper is absorbed by the plush fabric of the bedding, he goes even harder.

“Can you cum for me, do you think you could?” He can hardly breathe and he has to force the words out.

You mumble a confirmation and reach a hand back, tuck it between your thighs and find yourself soaked, slippery. Without grace or precision you start swirling circles over your clit. He feels it when your body clenches around him, impossibly tighter as you choke out a sobbing breath.

“Holy shit, you’re amazing. I can’t believe you’re real… I’m close, so fucking close.”

“Hold it for me, wait for me, I’m almost there Josh, almost there,” your muffled words turn into incoherent babbling and he struggles to maintain composure, wanting to do whatever you ask, trying to hold out for you. Until he can’t.

“Baby I can’t, fuck fuck fuck-“

His hips stutter and he slams your body to his, the feeling of his release, hot and deliciously wrong, pulls you down with him. The comforter is released from your teeth when you scream, the sound of it steals whatever air he had left in his lungs and his body doubles over, draped over your back. His weight forces your knees to slip over the surface of the bed until you're both flat against it.

Neither of you can speak as your breaths heave, you're dragging air in past your teeth the best that you can and even if you were able to, you’re not sure you could find the right words just yet.

Josh can feel himself smothering you and with shaky arms he lifts his chest from your back.

“Just go slow.” It comes out as a whisper, all you can manage.

He moves his hips off of you slowly, suddenly terrified of hurting you, but you sigh at the loss of him once he’s gone. Wordlessly, he runs one hand down your back before climbing off the bed and leaving the room. You hear the sound of the water running in your bathtub, and when he returns he’s wearing a soft smile.

“Let’s get cleaned up, honey.”

He scooped you up off the bed and carried you to the bathroom, didn’t put you down until he was over the tub and easing you into the water. He slipped in behind you and pulled your back to his chest, leaving kisses in your hair and whispering love and praise into your ear.

Though his inquisitive mind was turning, he resisted peppering you with questions until the next morning.

I didn’t hurt you, right?

What did it feel like?

You definitely liked it?

Should I have done anything differently?

And his most persistent question…

Can we do it again?

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123

Please let me know if you’d like to be added ❤️

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #josh kiskza #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #gvf fanfiction #gvf fan fiction

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fleetsonourgecentral · 5 months ago

Note

hii not sure if this blog is active still but since its the 23rd, that means scourge finally gets the birthday he deserves in the fleetway universe.

OH SHIT HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY TO THE BASTARD MAN HIMSELF

~~~

"Scourge."

"Mmn."

"Scourge."

"Mmn."

"Scourge."

"Can't you take a hint?" Scourge hissed, swatting at the finger insistently poking him in the head. "'M sleeping. Go away."

"Absolutely not," Sonic snorted, evidently giving up on poking Scourge awake and upgrading to physically shaking him. "If I let you sleep in, you'll just be bitching later."

"When have I ever bitched about sleeping in?"

"Repeatedly. Get up before I push you out of bed."

It wasn't an empty threat, and Scourge knew it. The knowledge, however, did not stop him from burying his head under the pillow and groaning long and low. "Fuck off and let me dream about setting Tekno's experiments on fire."

It was disappointing, but not surprising, when instead of heeding Scourge's command, Sonic yanked him out of bed by his ankles, letting him crack his head on the cold, unforgiving floor.

"Son of a bitch!" Scourge twisted in Sonic's grip, pulling his poor ankles free. He glared up at Sonic, who looked down at him with his arms folded, customary smug smirk on his face. It was sorely tempting to kiss that stupid smirk away, but that would require getting up, and Scourge was seriously considering pulling the blankets off the bed and curling up on the floor and going back to sleep out of sheer spite. "What was that for?"

"Get up and you'll find out," Sonic said, nudging him with his foot. "It'll be worth it, I promise."

"How about you get up and find out a new place to sleep tonight," Scourge grumbled, reluctantly hauling himself to his feet. "Won't even let me sleep in peace when there's no new missions you need me for... don't get in the bed if you want to be up at the asscrack of dawn."

"This is my room," Sonic said, linking his arm in Scourge's before Scourge could contemplate throwing himself back under the bed-sheets. "If it bothered you that much, you would go crawling back to your own room."

"Maybe I will."

"Sure you will."

"You think I won't?"

"Prove me wrong tonight if you want to, but you're not going back to bed today. After all the bitching you did about the birthday chair on my birthday, I'm not going to let you sleep your birthday away and give you the chance to bitch about not getting the chair."

"Some boyfriend you are, not letting me sleep in on my..." he trailed off, half-asleep brain finally registering Sonic's words. "Birthday?"

"Yes," Sonic said, looking at him like he was an idiot. "Birthday."

That couldn't be right. His birthday wasn't until...

Scourge frantically tried to remember the date, and when his memory failed him, he snuck a glance at the calendar.

Huh. Well, fuck him sideways, look at that. It was his birthday.

Scourge... had honestly forgotten all about that.

It wasn't his fault! It was this stupid dimension and their backwards way of writing dates. The weirdos wrote the day before the month, like maniacs, instead of putting the month first like a normal person. That little difference had tripped him up more times than he cared to admit, and he'd lost count of the amount of times the mix-up had gotten him into trouble. His recent tactic was to just leave all the date stuff to everyone else, and while he had gotten better at remembering their weird system, it still didn't come to him automatically. It was one thing to know, logically, what month it was, and another thing entirely to look at the date and associate the unfamiliar order with the month they were in. So he hadn't been paying much attention to the date, and the reminder of his birthday just sort of... slipped by him.

Apparently, though, it did not slip by Sonic. He remembered. Although Scourge couldn't remember ever telling him when his birthday was, so how Sonic knew was beyond him.

"It's my birthday, and you're still making me get up at ass o'clock in the morning?" Scourge complained, shoving down the warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest as he snatched his glasses from the nightstand. It was a familiar feeling by now, and it didn't bother him as much as it once did, but it was way too early for anyone to see him feeling sappy feelings.

"Oh please, it's only nine o'clock," Sonic snorted, dragging him out of the room. "Nowhere near the asscrack of dawn. Quit your bitching."

"I think I should get to sleep in as long as I want on my birthday. Don't I get any birthday privileges? What kind of fucked up dimension is this?"

"Your birthday privileges are the birthday chair. Move your ass, or you won't get any of the presents you were bitching about missing out on on my birthday."

Presents? Well, that was a motivator, Scourge couldn't lie. He dragged his feet for a few more seconds, just to prove a point, just so Sonic wouldn't win, but with lingering sleep slowly losing its grip on him, eagerness took its place, and he couldn't stop himself from picking up the pace a little. Sonic, like the dickhead he was, noticed immediately, and that stupid knowing smirk returned, and fuck, Scourge really needed to kiss it off his face. He'd do that. Later. Pencil it in to his to-do list. He'd get around to it right after he opened his presents.

Downstairs, the rest of the Freedom Fighters bustled about, the same way they had done for Sonic's birthday. Just like before, there were no cheesy banners (thank fuck for that) and the old ratty armchair had once again been dragged out of storage. The hand-made banners from last time were nowhere to be seen, but that was expected; those were banners for Sonic, after all, and Scourge didn't want banners about Sonic Day hanging from the walls on his birthday anyway. Overall, there weren't as many decorations as Sonic had, and the ones that were in the process of being hung up were boring and generic, but as most of those decorations from last time mentioned Sonic specifically, Scourge wasn't too upset about it. There was a green cushion on the armchair, though, which wasn't there last time, and Scourge took his rightful place on his throne for the day with smug satisfaction coiling in his chest. It wasn't much, but the cushion was so clearly bought with him in mind. It was for him and him alone, and it did wonders for his ego. No wonder Sonic was so pleased with himself while sitting on the armchair on his birthday.

"Scourge!" Amy appeared seemingly out of nowhere, beaming at him with a bright smile Scourge still wasn't used to. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks." Scourge leaned back in the armchair, crossing his legs and doing his best to shove away the bubbling discomfort. Amy didn't need to know he still wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to such genuine... genuineness. If she knew, she'd probably do it more, under some kind of excuse like helping him get used to it, which was such bullshit; Scourge knew her well enough by now to know she liked messing with people, and liked messing with people by being nice to them even more. The only reason she'd stopped telling people she was Sonic's girlfriend was because Scourge bragged about dating Sonic too much for anyone to believe it; apparently not even dating Tekno was enough to get her to stop, because Tekno found it funny and encouraged her to do it more. If anything united the Freedom Fighters outside of, well, fighting for freedom, it was opportunities to screw with Sonic.

Speaking of Tekno, she also fluttered in and out with presents clutched in her arms, parroting another "happy birthday" in his direction, although thankfully she was gone almost as soon as she said it, so he didn't need to reply. Even Tails waved at him as he flew in with a few more decorations.

"Sonic, can you-"

"Yeah, yeah, already on it," Sonic interrupted Amy, dashing into the other room after Tekno to help. Scourge peeked through the doorway after him; from what he could see, the pile of presents was nowhere near the size of Sonic's pile on his birthday, but he guessed that was to be expected. Sonic was the Hero of Mobius, receiving presents from grateful citizens in every Zone they entered, including a few sent over from the Special Zone, and Scourge had no interest in being viewed as a hero by anyone. No one had the same sense of gratitude towards him as they did towards Sonic.

An envelope and present landed on his lap before he had the chance to feel anything about that.

"From Ebony," Amy said quietly as she passed, like a secret. "And... well, the rest of them, too, I guess."

Raising an eyebrow, Scourge ripped open the wrapping paper on the present; Sonic had waited until all his presents were brought into a pile at his feet, but considering who this was from, Scourge figured he'd be forgiven for opening this one early. It was nothing special - a simple mug, Scourge couldn't tell if it was hand-made or store bought - but it was honestly more than he was expecting. It would be good to put his hot chocolate in, if nothing else, since he broke his last designated mug and hadn't gotten around to replacing it yet.

Setting the mug aside out of sight, he ripped open the envelope next. A cheesy birthday card greeted him - gross - but when he opened it, he was greeted with a glorious sight: money. Score.

He almost didn't bother reading the words on the card, but he was feeling gracious, so he skimmed them. Ebony's neat, cursive handwriting greeted him: thank you for all you've done for us. From Ebony, Pyjamas, and Super - The Groovy Train

Ew, sappy shit. Scoffing, Scourge tossed the card aside with the mug, ignoring whatever weird feeling was happening in his chest. He didn't even know why they'd bothered to send him anything; he didn't even like them that much, he only showed up to babysit Super if Ebony promised to pay him. But hey, if it meant he got birthday money out of it, he wasn't going to to question it too much.

Folding his arms, Scourge watched Tails and Amy hang the rest of the decorations. Someone managed to get their hands on some balloons, which they'd scribbled "yearly survival day" on in marker. And - oh boy - they'd found some banners to hang up after all. Amy was balancing on a ladder holding one end, while Tails grabbed the other, flying up to stretch the banner out-

Oh.

That... that was a hand-made banner. Not one of Sonic's, and not a generic or cheesy one, either.

Thanks for bullying Sonic, it read, with a bunch of names scribbled underneath. Signatures. Signatures of people he knew, people he was... friends... with. Front and center, proud, not tucked away at the back where they'd be out of sight.

Scourge stared at it. It was objectively ugly, an eyesore if he'd ever seen one, clearly made with limited resources, and the letters smushed together at the end where they'd clearly started to run out of room when they were writing. It was messy, far from perfect, nothing lavish or fancy. In all his life, he'd never had a birthday banner as ugly as this.

A pesky lump formed in Scourge's throat. He swallowed it down. At least his eyes were dry, and if that changed, his tinted glasses would hopefully hide that.

And oh fuck, there was Sonic suddenly standing before him, arms full of presents, glancing at the banner before meeting Scourge's eyes with that stupid, stupid, smug and knowing smirk.

Fuck it. He wasn't waiting. He was moving this task to the top of his to-do list.

Sonic barely had time to drop the presents onto the meager pile before Scourge seized him by the arms, dragged him in, and finally kissed that smirk off his face.

His triumphant plan promptly failed, for although Sonic couldn't smirk, his smugness was apparent in his kiss, instead. Asshole.

"Worth getting up for, huh?" Sonic said when they broke apart. "Was I right, or was I right?"

"Eh, I've had better," Scourge lied, pulling Sonic onto his lap. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

"I've got something planned for later," Sonic promised, looping an arm around Scourge's neck without his customary complaining. "Bring your spray can, we're going vandalizing."

... Fuck, Sonic knew him too well. Damn it, Scourge loved him. It was actually unfair how much he loved him. He'd say there should be a law against it, but... well, Scourge wasn't exactly famous for giving a flying fuck about the law.

"You'd better treat me to dinner after," Scourge said, instead of saying any of that sappy shit.

"You'll get burgers or hotdogs from the first stand we see and that's it."

"Cheapskate."

"You'll get over it."

It wasn't lavish, or extravagant, or over the top, or any of the flashy, fancy things he was sure he'd get when he became the King of Moebius. And it was still too damn early, and he would've still liked a lie-in. But the hand-made banner was for him, and was signed, and Sonic wasn't even complaining about being in his lap, so... it would do.

It would do just fine.

#sonic the hedgehog #scourge the hedgehog #fleetway sonic #stc sonic #fleet!sonourge #asks #fanfic #hiiiiii sorrry this blog IS still active #but sadly due to Time Zones I did not see this ask until it was no longer the 23rd #and alas #then writing the fic took time #so this is a day late. sowwy scourge #this was so fun to write fdshafhjsd I've missed writing about these boys #scourge feeling emotions about other people: hm. gross. hitting 'ask me again later' forever #again I'm sorry this is a day late!!! hope you enjoy it anyway!

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watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees · 3 months ago

Text

He dreams of revenge pt. 1

Dallon

this is going to be a two chapter story, inspired by this dream I had

word count: 2.7K

masterlist

TW: sibling death mention, suicide mention, referenced captivity and torture, suggestive themes (nothing 18+/nsfw happens, but there's a vibe), choking, fade-to-black ending, gun mention (hopefully i got all of it? lmk if i missed something)

I'm going to kill Wesley Shaw tonight.

I tried to accept it as a fact, doubting it would only bring about a load of unnecessary anxiety, and I didn't need anything that could potentially poison the success of this mission.

We had been planning the hit for months now, everything had to be perfect. Every step had been thought through well, we had plan Bs and Cs for each and every one of them. By the end of the night that monster would be dead.

Before we entered the convention centre, Bailey and I went over our cover stories and aliases, quick, as if we were reciting a a well-learned poem.

The only good thing, I could honestly say I liked about her, was that she spoke fast. Sure, she was a great cop, with a steady aim, and she was awfully insightful, she just never shut up, and I could never get over that.

I fought the assignment hard, when the project started, I'd have been willing to work with anyone, but her. If there was a chance for a slip of a tongue compromising the mission, I would want to prevent it, even if it ruined my reputation as a good partner to be assigned with.

Fuck Bailey. I planned on doing this right, thankfully our cover stories let us spend the first half of the evening separately. It was a safety measure we took, we pretend not to know each other, so if anything goes south, we don't drag each other down. I was entirely convinced this was put in the plan for my safety, I would never let myself get in trouble like that.

She got out of the car a block away from where I did. I was to arrive from another direction, at a different time.

"You're gonna do great, Dallon!" I heard the captain's voice throught the earpiece, I would discard immediately upon arrival. We didn't wish for luck on high stakes missions like this one.

"I know" I replied with full conviction. I was going to do great and Shaw would die and it was going to be perfect.

I got out of the car just in time to spot Bailey saunter inside, flashing her wristband to the security guard. I heard her laughter from where I stood, and felt an uneasy shiver run down my spine at the thought of having to "accidentally" run into her inside and rejoin forces for the takedown.

Phase one, I go inside and mingle. I already hated it, every ounce of willingness to talk had evaporated from me, as Bailey entered the building before I did. I still had a list of conversation starters and a hell of a great ability to lie my ass off going for me. I would not enjoy a second spent in this phase, but I'd do well enough.

It was too bright inside. My skin crawled with how many bodies pressed to my side as I tried to push through the crowd. I had to keep my eyes open and actually look, which took tremendous effort to keep up against the onslaught of sensations.

My heart jumped every time I saw a feature that slightly resembled the one haunting me in my nightmares. Every glimpse of light reflected from a pair of glasses, every face with black stubble on set me off to no end.

Phase two started, when I finally spotted him. He stood off to the side, surrounded by a close circle of people with a glass of champagne in hand, a horrendously smug smile on his face. The latter might have been my imagination, he could only have been smug if he considered himself the winner of the fight already, and he didn't even know about the operation. At the end of the night I planned to make that expression, while he bleeds out on the ground and I claim self-defense.

It started off easy, I positioned myself in the crowd so that I could keep an eye on Wesley at all times. This made it significantly harder to find my partner, who should also be looking for me after she found the target. He was hard to miss and however annoying Bailey was, she was a lot more comfortable getting lost in a crowd and had a decent amount of precision to spot him, maybe even faster than I did.

It wasn't time to get closer just yet, I needed to find Bailey, and start a conversation innocuously. For that to happen I needed to actually talk to people.

I joined a larger group, where a few others seemed to be just as much of an outsider as I was, so it isn't too weird that I joined. I laughed when the others did, tried to get a word in edgewise here and there, but I wasn't paying much attention.

I was scanning the crowd for my partner's outrageous golden dress and bright ginger hair. Against all odds, she was a lot harder to spot than Wesley Shaw, in his simple black suit. We locked eyes, it seemed she had found him as well. We had entered phase two.

We had to find our way to him. Not do dwell on the details, Bailey joined my group, then we went for drinks and pretended to introduce ourselves. We weren't missed after we left and let the crowd carry us to Wesley.

He wasn't surrounded as exclusively as I imagined, he was just an attendee like we were. It made our job all the more seamless.

When we joined the conversation he was a part of, we entered phase three. Get him alone and find something to arrest him for. We had a list of everything Wesley had ever done, incriminating himself, but it would be much easier, if he gave us a reason. I wasn't one for planting evidence and such things, that was usually below me. Not this time. Wesley Shaw was going down one way or another.

His voice was deep, I could feel it rumble in my stomach and if I didn't know who he was, I would have even enjoyed it. Maybe... It was hard to say. All I could think about was Marci and the way she looked at me when we found her, and that I'm so close to making the fucker pay for it. I hated waiting.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Wesley aimed the question at me, looking me up and down. I shivered.

"No, I don't think so" I smiled politely, and reached a hand out for him to shake. "Max Brown" It's Dallon Burke, and I'm going to kill you.

"Wesley Shaw. I swear I feel like we've met before" Do you even remember Marci? Here's a hint you, kidnapped her and tortured her for almost a year.

"I guess, I have one of those faces" She was my twin. We looked alike before you destroyed her.

"Yeah, probably" She killed herself. Did you even know that?

I had no way of keeping time as it passed by. People came and went, someone brought drinks at one point. I never left Wesley's side. The conversation was superficial, we chatted away about events, fundraisers and the dresscode, and I spoke to the best of my knowledge of what I thought Max Brown would say.

He didn't like strict black and white attires, much like the one Wesley wore. He preferred some frill and colour, as demonstrated by my dark blue, satin button-up.

I forcibly smiled as much as I could. I was used to doing it all the time, especially throughout the preparation process for this operation, because I didn't want to let everyone know how much I despised having to work with Bailey. I had reached my limit that evening and my jaw started to hurt.

I flirted with her and she with Wesley. We agreed on this beforehand, because there was no way in hell I would be able to keep up the facade for him, at least with her, I could practice beforehand.

She was smart to leave for a little while, so we didn't raise suspicion, as far as everyone else was aware, we we're strangers to each other as much as we were to them. After she got back, stumbling and slurring her words a little, acting drunk - at least I prayed it was an act, a rather prejudiced thought on my part - we set phase four into motion.

"Would you two care to join me for another drink?" the monster asked. Bailey stood close to him, leaning slightly on his shoulder, giggling like it was the best night of her life. Even though I knew it was fake, the sight left a sour taste in my mouth. "Maybe somewhere more private?"

"This place is crammed with people, do you know of some VIP area we hadn't been invited to?" I meant for the question to sound light, I think it came out a little awkward. He didn't seem to mind. Arrogant prick.

"I have a suite booked in the hotel next door" he replied smoothly. Bailey inched even closer to him, batting her eyelashes with not-so-secret intent.

"A suite? Are you rich or something?" She played dumb well. Her voice, usually sharp, even grating at times, was not soft and feminine. I wished she spoke more like that.

Wesley Shaw laughed and pulled her close by the waist. His hand didn't wander lower than it was appropriate.

"And you, Max?" He raised an eyebrow, as he inquired, I found it sort of comical as the frame of his glasses obstructed the view of the lower one. The sight of this monster of a man with only half a brow gave me enough material to laugh and smile in his direction.

"I'd love to" I made my voice deeper on purpose, so it sounded like I was actually into the idea.

We made our way back to the gates and walked over to the hotel. We locked arms with Bailey from both sides to keep her upright. I was starting to doubt whether she was actually sober.

Wesley Shaw's luxury suite was on the fifth floor. He invited us to sit in the living room, and opened up a bottle of wine from a wine cooler.

I wondered if he had brought that with himself for this occasion, or it was the courtesy of the hotel staff.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" Wesley stood up abruptly, just after filling our glasses and making himself comfortable. "I have to make a phone call, it can't wait" He apologized again. I nodded, sure, it was fine, I was understanding. He walked into the bedroom and pulled the sliding door panel shut.

As soon as he was out of our line of sight Bailey straightened up and poured out half of what her glass contained on a plant next to the couch.

We heard as he picked up the phone, he paced the room. We couldn't hear much. Bailey immediately relaxed back against the cushions, when we heard him walk closer.

"This is going to take a while" Wesley came back to the living room, covering the microphone with one hand, he was half whispering. "You could make yourselves comfortable in the bedroom until then, my laptop is out here"

"Are you sure?" I asked with fake concern. Max Brown wouldn't want to be a rude guest. "We can leave and catch up later"

"I'm sure" He smiled warmly. It burnt my face. "Ten minutes at maximum, I'll try to make it in five, though" Wesley winked at me. I wanted to strangle him, but instead, I grabbed Bailey by the arm, maybe a bit stronger than it was necessary and pulled her up to come with me to the bedroom.

I pulled the door in, leaving it open an inch, so we could hear better.

Bailey was tense again, no sign of the alcohol induced lazy relaxed version of her. She sat on the edge of the bed, listening, still as a statue.

I concentrated as well. And when I finally picked up the thread of the conversation, I looked at Bailey in disbelief.

It couldn't have been this easy. He was dictating account numbers into the phone, with names and places. Wesley Shaw started phase five by himself.

The microphones sewn into our clothes were sensitive enough to pick all the sound up. We needed to get at least one of the devices out of here, so it can be traced immediately. Bailey was the one delivering it, I was tasked with keeping him there, using force if necessary, until we get the okay to arrest him.

Bailey put the drunken act back on. She stood up, swaying a little on her feet and walked out of the room. She whispered incoherently, from too far away and Wesley waved her off, apparently way too lost in his laptop screen.

She was out. I undid the top two buttons of my shirt and sat on the edge of the bed. I thought about how I should have drunk that glass of wine at least. Not like I needed the courage, I felt determined now more than ever. All I had to do was pull my gun, that had been safely tugged into it's strap on my ankle under my wide-legged dress pants...

I didn't feel the weight of it as I lifted my leg up. I tried the other, since I'm bad with directions, because maybe I just forgot.

There was no gun. I desperately tried to find the last moment I remembered having it. In the surveillance van I checked before I headed inside and then nothing.

Wesley had stopped talking, I realised a second too late. He was standing in the doorway, with a questioning look on his face. I looked terribly awkward, patting the side of my ankles, looking for my gun. I hoped he was drunk enough not to notice, though I didn't remember him having a single sip of any glass of beverage he had in his hands through the night.

I don't know why or how, but that set me off, and I knew that he knew. Still I tried to save the situation. If ot came to it, I would kill him with my bare hands.

"Ba- Ashley f-felt sick, she said she'd, she'd be back later" I gulped. I fucked up, I was panicking and he knew "I- I told her not to come back, if, if she gets suck" I stammered. He merely hummed and crossed the space between us with three long strides. I was sitting on the bed, he looked tall.

I really thought I was a good liar. I had been a flawless one all night, why do I have to fuck it up the single most important minute?

"Maybe it's better like that, I'd hate to have to get rid of her, if she witnessed what's happening here" Wesley lifted my chin with a finger so I had to look him in the eye. I was frozen under his gaze. At least he didn't figure Bailey's cover out.

"You look so much like her, Dallon" he leaned down. He turned my face around to inspect it from every angle.

"I didn't think you would, but it's like she's right here. I don't know why you expected this little plan of yours to work"

"I'm going to kill you" I finally found my voice again. I pictured Marci's face, that was a carbon copy of my own, beat up, bruised and pale as a ghost. I looked healthy, no bruises or scars, maybe a slight tan I got from visiting our mother back home.

I was nothing like Marci.

"Sure, you will" Wesley laughed and his hand slid down from my chin to wrap around my throat.

"If only you had your gun" he whispered in my ear, hot and sticky, and he pushed me down on my back.

My hands flew to claw at the grip on my throat, but it was futile. I felt dark spots starting to dance around the edges of my vision, and they grew and grew until it all faded to black.

#whump #whump writing #oc whump #he dreams of revenge #suicide mention #tw sibling death #torture mention #captivity mention #suggestive #choking tw #gun tw #undercover mission #criminal whumper #cop whumpee #revenge whump

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tothemeadow · 1 year ago

Text

Commissioned by anonymous

Rengoku Shinjuro x (Male) Reader

With a life full of hardships and never truly knowing "peace", maybe it's about time for Shinjuro to truly let go.

warnings: NSFW, Shinjuro's alcoholism and depression, hair pulling, some humiliation, lol he's a bottom, age gap

notes: just some angst and Shinjuro getting it up the butt, modern AU where demons are still a thing, written from a past tense and then in present

words: 2.1k

Rengoku Shinjuro, by all means, is not the soft, compliant type.

No, throughout his years, it’s always been Rengoku, do this or Rengoku, do that. Hailing from such a prestigious family, he’s never been granted a true taste of freedom, a true taste of himself. Ever since he was young, he’s been subjected to harsh training and grueling lectures of how terrible the real world is. For centuries, the Rengoku name has been a stone in the demon slaying world, and – quite literally – a pillar for others to look up to.

His personality became sour as thus. He was lucky enough to score himself such an incredible wife (at least that’s what the others whispered behind his back). Even more, that very wife bore two heirs. The Rengoku bloodline has never given birth to females; they always relied on outside sources to keep that pure bloodline flowing, to keep the locks of flames and sunburst eyes carrying from generation to generation.

Shinjuro should’ve been happy. He had a beautiful wife, a set of boys, was alive.

But.

And that’s what it is, the but that comes with everything in life.

He would never grow to know true peace. His sons, also born in this cruel, cruel world, wouldn’t be able to dream of it. They are Rengoku’s, after all, and they’d be damned if they didn’t carry on the tradition of their ancestors.

His bitterness only grew when Ruka, his beloved, passed. His sorrows could only be drowned out by limitless booze, the pain in his heart much too suffocating for him to bear. It didn’t take long after that for him to rid himself of the Flame Hashira title and close himself in from the world. He was no longer Rengoku Shinjuro, whoever the hell that even was. He was only the husk of a man, the pathetic wick left behind from a burned-out candle.

Drinking became Shinjuro’s new passion. The bottle became his best friend. His fist rarely became lonely, knuckles long gone white from the ceaseless clasp. Both of his sons became strangers, struggling to withstand the man their father had become. The eldest, Kyojuro, eventually took his brother away, the two of them moving in with Uzui-sama, the smug bastard.

Things had never been easy. Not when he was a child, and certainly not when he grew into adulthood.

The strong pillar of a man became nothing more than a pile of rubble.

It began with a single drink and a prolonged stare.

Shinjuro (unsurprisingly) frequented many bars, usually too stir-crazy to stick with one for too long. It was only when he found a hole-in-the-wall that he finally settled, decided that this was it.

He’d spent too many nights staring into the bottom of empty glasses, wondering if he would pass out in the bathroom and never get up again. Perhaps someone would start a fight and try to swing a stool at his head – no, that wouldn’t work, he’d been beaten up by too many god-forbidden creatures for a stool to do any real damage.

Needless to say, when the bartender silently placed another glass of his go-to before him, Shinjuro was surprised. Normally, he would signal for another round with a grunt or a slew of drunken words. The bartender only gave him half a smile, his head jerking to the other side of the bar. Shinjuro’s eyes merely followed, a strong brow quirking up his forehead.

Hah.

You were just some punk ass kid, most likely the same age as his son. Granted, he kept his hair long, but that was about it when it came to feminine qualities. Thick hair, though blond, covered the entirety of his arms and chest, and his face was in a constant stage of stubble. Shinjuro knew he wasn’t a looker. Why had you looked at him from everyone else in the bar, he couldn’t possibly fathom. He figured it had to deal with the dim lighting.

But no, you took that glance as the greenlight and hopped from your stool, scurrying your way to where Shinjuro sat. You gave a simple May I?, body hesitant and eyes hopeful. Frankly, Shinjuro couldn’t care. A free drink was a free drink and if he was lucky enough, he would forget all about this encounter anyway.

Or so he hoped.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. One moment, you were trying to crack jokes and butter him up with saccharine words; the next, he was flat on his back on his mattress, in his home, with you in between his legs. Your pants were hot and heavy in his ear, lips skimming the stubble adorning his jaw as your cock pounded in and out of him.

Shinjuro would never.

He wasn’t the kind to lay dormant and let others take control of the reins. He was a Rengoku, for fuck’s sake. He used to be a goddamn Hashira. He’s a man, not some broken down little whore who’s prying for attention or money or-

And then he came, all hot and thick, coating his abs in a sticky feeling he’s not used to. His mind cleared, heartbeat shuddered, back ached – he’s not cut out for this shit.

But.

It’s always the fucking buts that come with life.

A good lay is a good lay, and god knew how long it’s been since Shinjuro had one of those.

Getting drunk is all that mattered, no matter the method.

“I need you to relax, love,” you breathe into his ear.

A shiver ripples down Shinjuro’s spine. A shaky sigh graces the air as he snuggles further into the pillow. Splayed out on his stomach, Shinjuro’s completely at your mercy; you straddle his behind, hands slick with oil as they rub and dig into the many knots throughout his back. Unlike you, Shinjuro is bare naked. Your clothed groin grinds into the split of his cheeks, just barely a chub.

Glancing over his shoulder, Shinjuro catches the quick glint of the band encircling your finger. Heart leaping to his throat, his insides squeeze as water gathers in his eyes (it might be because of the particularly deep knot you’re pressing at, but still.)

The universe… finally decided he deserved a break.

After that fateful encounter that night (and the back-breaking sex), you somehow… got into Shinjuro’s good graces. You made breakfast for him the next morning, rubbed his sore muscles, joked about his bedhead and morning breath… It was so domestic. It had been too long since another soul had graced his home, and it was almost too overwhelming…

A date led to another, sex became a regular thing, and Shinjuro found that he enjoyed letting loose and having someone else take hold of the reins. There wasn’t any Rengoku, do this! screaming in his ears, only your gentle tone telling him to take it deeper and praising him for being such a good boy.

It didn’t take long for you to ask for his hand in marriage. For one, Shinjuro never dreamed of remarrying, much less to a person of the same sex. Two, for that someone to be just as kind and gentle as Ruka was, only to totally switch sides behind closed doors, was something else entirely. Shinjuro never pictured himself as the type to be physically or romantically involved with another man, but life had other plans.

“You’re tensing up,” you murmur, your voice stirring him away from his thoughts. You place a kiss to his spine. “What are you thinking about?”

What did I do to deserve this?

It’s not like Shinjuro is a kind man. He did his job, put another generation of Rengoku’s into the world, then sank into a depressed stupor full of alcohol when he couldn’t find the will to live anymore. So what did the universe see in him? What did you see in him?

“Shinjuro, answer me.” Your voice, although soft, carries a harsh undertone.

“I’m a piece of shit,” Shinjuro grunts. It’s all too easy to see your displeased expression in his peripheral.

“We’ve talked about this,” you tell him.

And yeah, you did. He came clean about his trauma, about the demons plaguing the world, his dead wife, his estranged sons. You had some daddy issues of your own (surprise). The two of you were floating in dead space, drifting with the passing days. It was sort of a miracle when you two met.

“I know,” is all Shinjuro says, the words dissipating into a sigh.

Scooching off from his bottom, you easily push the muscular, hairy thighs apart and settle in between. Slicking up your thumb with more oil, you press the digit between his cheeks, slowly caressing the pursed hole.

“Obviously, we have to go over it again,” you tell him. “Tell me why I love you.”

Heat floods to Shinjuro’s face. Mind you, he never blushes. He stares hard at the wall across from him, thankful for the pillow smooshing the other side of his face. He knows he should answer. Last time he disobeyed, you bent him over your knee like a bratty child and spanked him until the skin matched the red in his hair. He almost craves for you to be rough with him, to put him in his place.

“I’m the father you always wanted to fuck.” It’s a poor attempt at a joke. Humor has never been Shinjuro’s strong suit. He does, however, receive a light swat against his behind in warning.

“Horrible answer. Try again.”

He grunts when you grasp onto a meaty asscheek, your hand roughly kneading it. Your thumb barely presses against his hole.

“Brat,” Shinjuro mutters. How ironic. If anyone is the brat in this relationship, it’s him. “Husband loves my physique, the hair on my chest, my ass-“ he wiggles his butt as he says this, “-and how I’m such a good boy.”

You reply with a snort. “Wouldn’t kill you to indulge me a little…”

A groan gets bit short when you abruptly grasp onto the loose strands of blond hair and yank. Shinjuro’s head cranes backwards, his neck screaming from the effort. Hot kisses land on his spine, the thumb encircling his hole dipping in slightly. Easing out and in, you tease him slowly, relishing in his heavy breaths and foggy eyes.

His cock stirs; Shinjuro wastes no time grinding it into the mattress, knees and hips raising to meet your touch. Hardened nipples graze the sheets, his heavy tits heaving with each ragged pant. It takes practically no effort anymore to get him stirred up, to have him hungry for your cock.

“My big, muscular boy,” you say, teeth skimming along the line of his spine, “so desperate to be fucked like a whore. Is this what a fall from grace looks like? To be on your hands and knees, waiting for someone to belittle you and make you theirs?”

Your dominance is unlike anything Shinjuro has ever seen. Usually, you’re all soft words and warm hands, willing to help him with anything. A perfect little househusband, you told him once, a giggle hanging from your lips. Someone to be there when you need them most.

But this…. This is something else.

You grope at the muscles of his back, his ass, his tits – you leave nothing untouched, besides his cock. A hand keeps his hips steady as you slip your cock inside, the hot resistance clasping down in a vice-like grip. Shinjuro moans weakly into the pillow, precum leaking from his neglected cock. You waste no time pulling back and snapping your hips into him, cock plunging in to the hilt. Your balls slap heavily against his ass, fingers moving from spreading his cheeks further apart to pulling at his hair.

“Mine,” you hiss into his ear, but then follow up with a quick kiss. “So soft, compliant… What a spectacle you are. I bet no one would ever have guessed that the former Flame Hashira would like getting cock so much…”

Blood thunders in his ears. With a slight whimper, Shinjuro buries his face in the pillow, shame and arousal making his skin simmer and cock leak like a faucet.

“Ah, ah, ah, honey, don’t hide your face, it’s just us here,” you say, tone switching to something buttery smooth and sweet. Your actions clearly contradict your words; you snatch his head back with a firm grasp, fingernails grazing against his skull. Your cockhead attacks his prostate with a deadly precision. Soon, Shinjuro is nearly sobbing, mouth lax and fingers clenching onto the sheets.

You fuck him to completion, his eyes rolling back in his skull as his balls pull tight and he cums in several long, drawn-out spurts. Your hands easily reach around his chest and clutch onto his pebbled nipples, your lips finding the side of his neck.

He expects you to finish inside him and leave it at that, but…

As he learned long ago, there are always buts.

You never get to let him know what that but is.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku shinjuro #rengoku shinjuro x reader #kny smut #commission #male reader

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cleoluvrr · 2 years ago

Text

The Last Days of Summer V (Rafe Cameron x Heyward!OC)

Warnings: violence, underage drinking, drug use, verbal abuse, jealousy, forbidden relationship, enemies to lovers, gaslighting + manipulation

Synopsis: Stuck in a situation she never dreamed of, Neriah Heyward blurs the line between Kook and Pogue; Rafe Cameron a witness.

masterlist

word count: 4.2k+

↠━ღ◆ღ━↞

“I can’t believe I’m going to this shit.” I say angrily as I slip on my shoes.

I stare at myself in my friend’s mirror, body and mind filled with self-pity. I couldn’t help but feel sad as I looked at the beautiful, pink gown draped over my body. Tonight was Midsummers, and instead of being excited about going with my best friend, I’m dreading having to go with the guy who beat up my brother. Twice.

“Maybe your ass should’ve thought before you beat him with my golf club.” Londyn says, adjusting the flower crown on my head.

“I said I was sorry!”

“Oh you’re sorry alright.”

Londyn and I left her house shortly after with her parents, moping in the backseat as we drove to the Island Club. I saved up all year to buy myself another Selkie gown, only to waste it on being a piece of arm candy at a dick measuring contest. Rafe made me send him a bunch of dresses, and I knew it was my fault for sending a picture of this one, but I still had hope he wouldn’t choose it.

“The pink one.” Rafe said over the speaker of my phone. I sighed heavily, looking at the dress laid out on my bed.

“But I wore pink last year…” I tried to protest, but he wasn’t going to give in.

“So wear it again this year.” He doesn’t leave any room to argue, hanging up the phone rudely before I can get another word in.

We arrive at the club, the sun setting on the horizon as we pull in. Londyn and I sneak away from the adults when they aren’t looking, avoiding the dick measuring the best we can. I see my Pope with our dad by the grill, and they spot me as well. I move to go talk to them, waving as a greeting, but am stopped with a firm grip on my bicep.

I recognize who it is immediately by both the look on my brother’s face and the signature scent of Versace Eros. My smile drops almost instantly, my shoulders slouching in disappointment once again. I look up at Rafe, who is now waving at my brother with the same smug look he can’t seem to get rid of. Pope looks as furious and defeated as I feel and turns away.

“Get your hands off me, douchebag.” I say, shrugging his arm off my shoulder. Londyn looks at him in disgust, laughing when I pretend to shoot myself in the head and play dead.

“Hello to you too, Neriah.” He greets, smiling down at me. “Londyn.”

“Don’t talk to me.” She says, rolling her eyes. We all turn our heads when we hear her name called by her mom who motions her over to them. “I’ll find you later, sweets.” She sighs out before dragging her feet towards the tall woman.

Rafe leads me away as well, mentioning something about seeing his dad. I try to drag my feet in a way similar to Londyn, but the blonde places a hand at my back as we walk which prevents me from going any slower than him. We pass Topper and Sarah who seem to be having some kind of confrontation, but we walk past them without saying a word.

We walk through the familiar halls of the club, brushing past adults dressed rather flamboyantly. After a few minutes of me being dragged around in silence, we find Ward inside surrounded by a group of older men. I feel my heart about to crawl out of my throat at the sight. I feel only a little relieved when I spot Londyn’s father.

“Oh, there you are! I was wondering where you disappeared off to.” Mr. Woods says as we approach. He spots Rafe’s hand on me and the uncomfortable look on my face. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” I reply after the older boy squeezes my waist.

“Dad, you remember Neriah?” Rafe says to his father, whose eyes have landed on me finally.

“Of course I do.” Ward looks between the two of us quite strangely, as if he doesn’t understand why I’m standing here with him. “You look very beautiful tonight, Ms. Heyward.” I blink at the use of my last name, a reminder of my status amongst everyone else.

“Thank you! You clean up very well yourself, Mr. Cameron.” I reply sweetly, laying on the charm heavily.

“Heyward? You’re Heyward’s daughter?” One of the men asks, his eyebrows scrunched together. The rest of the men show similar expressions.

“Yes, I am.” If I felt offended, I didn’t show it.

“Are you working here tonight?” Another man asks, quite rudely. I shake my head no, biting me tongue so as to not say something I shouldn’t.

“She’s here as my guest.” Mr. Woods interrupts, sensing me becoming uncomfortable as time passes by. “She’s my daughter’s best friend. They go to school together.”

“Oh?” The rude one says. “Really?” He asks as if he can’t believe it. I stop myself from rolling my eyes.

“She’s on a scholarship if I remember correctly.” Ward looks at me for confirmation and I nod. “She’s a very smart girl from what I've been told. Very hardworking.”

“Are you two here together?” One of them asks. Ward raises his eyebrows at his son, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, we are.” Rafe says, pulling me closer and looking down at me with a fond smile. “I’ve always been too much of a coward to talk to her, but after seeing her looking so beautiful under the sun of the golf course, I just had to ask her to be on my arm tonight.”

“Well isn’t that just lovely?” The rude man says, eyeing my attire.

“She’s such a great influence on me, y’know?” Rafe continues, the hand previously on my waist now rubbing up and down my arm affectionately.

The motion gives me goosebumps.

“Really?” Ward’s eyes light up a little, his eyebrows far into his hairline.

“She just makes me want to be better for her. I think she’s too good for me, honestly.”

I think my face has gone numb with how long I've been forcing a smile during this conversation. Hearing Rafe speak about me like this while knowing the things he actually feels is making me feel almost violent, my nails digging into my palms once again.

Ward leaves the group to join us, introducing me to a bunch of people I’m sure don’t even view me as the dirt under their shoe. The fact I’m a scholarship student and my father being Heyward is thrown around a lot, as if that’s something to be bragged about. Surprisingly, people find that interesting. My father is well respected, for a Pogue at least, and nobody knew that he had a daughter.

The adults seemed shocked that someone like me could end up in a school with their children, assuming that I’m some sort of prodigy to be able to get a scholarship. I’m dragged around like a show pony, which I didn’t sign up for. I guess Ward Cameron endorsing a little pogue girl is a big deal, but quite frankly, I want nothing to do with this family.

The whole ordeal makes me sick to my stomach.

At some point I’m able to sneak off, the men far too deep into their conversation to notice me slip away into the crowd. I ran up to Londyn, spotting her with a bunch of other girls our age. Sarah Cameron included. I don’t even care about the night of the beach anymore, just glad to see someone that isn’t a bunch of old rich men showing off their money.

“There you are!” A tipsy Londyn says as I approach. “Where have you been?”

“Hell.” I answer, grabbing a glass of water from a passing waiter.

“I thought you were with Rafe?” Sarah quirks up at that, eyeing me curiously.

“You were with my brother?” She asks, looking me up and down.

“Not willingly.”

“What do you mean ‘not willingly?’” She inquires. I sigh, taking a long sip from the glass in my hand.

“Well,” I start, putting the glass down on the table. “Your brother beat the shit out of my brother, so I beat the shit out of him. As a result, your brother made me come here with him or else he’d press charges. For some odd reason, Ward really likes me, so Rafe thought if I came with him it would somehow get your dad off his back.”

Sarah’s mouth gapes open slightly, as if she can’t comprehend what just came out of my mouth.

“So no, I did not come with Rafe willingly.” I say. “Your brother’s a pussy by the way.” She snorts at that, clearing her throat to cover up the sound.

“Agreed.”

I’m not sure how much time we spend dancing with each other. The music was kind of bad, but we didn’t let it stop us. We laughed so hard that my cheeks burned from smiling. Sarah apologized for that night at the beach, but all had been forgotten by now. I was having fun, more fun than I’d had in a long time.

I’m watching Londyn do the catdaddy in front of me when I see a head of blonde hair float by out of the corner of my eye. JJ somehow snuck into the event, well dressed in a vest and dress shirt. We catch each other's eye, the boy coming up to me with a smile on his face. I smile back gleefully, embracing him in a warm hug when he reaches me.

“You clean up well! I didn’t know you were coming?” My voice raises a question.

“I’m ‘working.’” He says vaguely, winking at me to hint he’s up to something else.

“Hm…right.” I laugh lightly, the blonde wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“You look beautiful as always.” He pulls back from our embrace to get a full look at my outfit, his eyes shining brightly. “The prettiest girl here, actually.”

“Don’t flatter me, JJ.” Smiling shyly I look down, my face burning up at the compliment.

“I'm serious! Don’t tell your brother I said that though,” He glances back at my brother by the grill before facing me again. “He’d kill me.” I giggle, shaking my head at the slightly nervous boy I’m dancing with.

“Thank you, JJ. And I won't, promise.” I hold out my pinky which he takes with his own, the two fingers interlocking. “But seriously, what are you doing here?”

“You’ll see.” He smirks. I raise my eyebrows in suspicion as he glances around the venue for a moment. “I gotta go. I’ll see you around.” He says. Before he leaves, he plants a kiss on my cheek.

“JJ?” He gives me a thumbs up as he backs away grinning.

“Don’t tell Pope about that either.” Is the last thing he says to me before he gets too far for me to hear him over the music.

A few minutes pass without seeing the blonde and I assume he left the party, off to cause trouble somewhere else. However, my assumptions are proven wrong when I turn around and spot JJ dancing with Sarah back to back, discreetly passing her a note and whispering in her ear. Before I can warn him, Rafe and his goons approach him faster than I can get a word out.

I can’t hear what they’re saying over the music, but Rafe and his friends look very intoxicated and ready to pick a fight. A nervous JJ tries to talk them down, walking backwards to avoid them but they keep pressing up on him.

“Until then, help yourselves to hors d'oeuvres.” I hear him say as they pass by me.

“Guys,” Rafe motions the gaggle of Kooks to come follow him. “JJ’s gonna serve us some hors d’oeuvres.”

The group passes me, Rafe catching my gaze briefly with a look on his face I don’t recognize.

JJ says something to them before he takes off running, snatching open the door of the club and rushing inside with the Kooks hot on his heels. I shake my head and rub my temples, telling myself to stay out of whatever drama they have going on now despite every bone in my body telling me to go check on him.

When I turn back around, Sarah has also disappeared from the patio. I shrug and continue dancing with the rest of the girls.

It’s none of my business tonight.

That is until a disheveled JJ is escorted out of the building by one of the security guards.

“It’s okay everybody!” He shouts. “Do not panic.”

“Oh God…” I say to Londyn. “What the hell happened in there?”

“Leave it to the men and women in uniform!” He continues. “Let’s hear it for them. Rose!” He calls out, clapping at Sarah and Rafe’s step mother.

“Is he drunk?” Londyn whispers to me, watching the situation go down next to me.

“Let go of him!” Kiara says loudly, appearing on the balcony in a purple dress. Rafe appears beside her, drinking something I’m sure is alcoholic and laughing at the drama he definitely caused. “You can’t just boot him. I invited him here.”

JJ pushes the guard off of him, the man stumbling into a table filled with people.

“Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie.” JJ says, pointing up at the girl standing on the balcony with her parents before turning to my brother. “Pope, you as well, alright?”

My head swivels towards my dad and Pope, sure that nothing good is going to come from whatever he just said. I watch as Kiara slips away from her parents, running towards the beach after JJ, and John B who has appeared seemingly out of nowhere. My brother rips off his gloves and apron as my dad warns him not to leave the party. He runs off as well, leaving my dad to stand on his own.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He calls out after his son, watching as he disappears into the darkness of the beach with his friends.

Heyward turns to look at me for an answer and I shrug, turning back to the balcony where Rafe is standing. He’s already looking at me, smirking as he watches me over his glass. The music starts again, everything going back to as normal as they can get after that.

Rafe descends the stairs slowly, discarding the now empty glass on a random table. He approaches me, the smell of alcohol and cologne filling my nostrils strangely pleasant. He says nothing, grabbing my hand and leading me further onto the dance floor.

“I think you owe me a dance.” He says as he pulls me closer to his body.

“I’ve already fulfilled my duties for the night.” I tell him, but I don’t pull away. “What did you do JJ?” He scoffs at my question like it was the dumbest thing he’s ever heard.

“Why do you care?”

“Because he’s my brother’s best friend?” I replied obviously. “What the hell did you do?”

“You guys looked very comfortable earlier.” He says smiling, a tinge of anger in his voice. I scrunch my face up at him. “Too comfortable.”

“Were you watching me?” I try to pull away from him but his grasp is firm. “I’m allowed to dance with whoever I want to. And I think you’re forgetting that he’s my friend.”

“I thought he was your brother’s friend?” He tilts his head at me.

“Two things can be true. What did you do to him?” I ask again, now irritated at his non-answers.

“I didn’t like watching a Pogue put his hands all over my date.” Rafe’s jaw hardens. “I especially didn’t like watching him kiss her with that dirty mouth.” He chuckles dryly, poking his tongue into his cheek.

“Rafe.” My brows knit together as I watch his tense shoulders and face covered in more than just irritation.

Is he…jealous? What right does he have to be jealous?

“Nothing he didn’t deserve.” He answers my previous question vaguely. I open my mouth to ask him to clarify but he cuts me off before I can say anything. “It’s none of your concern, princess. Your job right now is to dance with me.”

“I am dancing with you.” I say. We sway gently to the music amongst the crowd of people that have now joined us. Rafe’s hands are planted firmly on my waist, holding me against him as my own hands rest on his biceps hesitantly. He leans down to whisper in my ear and I wince.

“Try to look like you don’t want to kill youself.” He speaks lowly into my ear. He grabs my hands and wraps them around his neck instead before placing his own hands back on my waist.

We stay like that for a while, painfully close as the adults watch us from afar. Ward keeps a close eye on us especially, whispering to Rose as he takes in the scene of me dancing with his son. I started to enjoy it at some point, the feeling of his warm body against mine almost relaxing.

And that terrified me.

“I need to talk to you.” Rafe says pulling me away from the crowd suddenly.

“Can you slow down? I can’t walk that fast.” He ignores me, dragging me through the door of the club by my arm. I stumble over my heels trying to keep up with his fast pace.

People throw us quick glances of curiosity, the sight of a random girl being pulled to the club by an anxious Rafe Cameron barely capturing their attention long enough to spare us anymore than that. He opens a random door and flips on the light switch, pulling me inside with him before shutting and locking the door.

He releases me and begins walking back and forth through the room, stressfully running his hands through his hair. I hear him breathing heavily, whispering to himself as he paces. I watch him in silence, unsure of what his problem is this time.

“Jesus Christ, Rafe.” My voice dripped in irritation. “What’s wrong with you this time?”

He doesn’t seem to hear me, still pacing through the room.

“Rafe. Rafe!” I call for a third time, finally capturing his attention. “What? What do you want? What’s the problem now?”

“You can’t talk to JJ, not anymore.”

“What?” I say in disbelief, eyeing him incredulously.

“You can’t hang around him. He’s no good.” He keeps going, not making any sense. “None of them are any good, not for you. None of them.”

“Rafe.” I repeat, even more confused than I was previously.

“I can’t keep seeing you around those fucking Pogues. You’re too good for them. They don't deserve to have you.” He keeps pacing, not even acknowledging my presence in the room. Something in the back of my head tells me to start inching towards the door, but I don’t.

“Rafe, are you having a psychotic break right now?”

“I’m not fucking crazy!” He suddenly lunges at me, only stopping a few inches in front of me. “I’m not crazy, everyone needs to stop calling me that.”

“Okay, well are you high? Because you aren’t making any sense right now.” I push past him further into the room, learning from my past mistakes to not have my back against any wall when in a room with him. “And quite frankly, you’re creeping me out.”

“I’m making perfect sense.” He advances towards me again, stopping less than a foot away from my body. “You can’t be around those people anymore. You’re too good for them. I don’t like the way JJ looks at you.”

“Who are you to tell me who I can’t hang out with?” I ask angrily, poking a finger in his chest to push him away from me. He only moves a couple inches. “You don’t even like me, first of all, so what’s it to you?”

“No, No, that’s where you’re wrong, Neriah.” He says, shaking his head aggressively. “I do like you. I like you so much that i-it makes me feel crazy and I don’t understand why because you’re a fucking Pogue. And I sometimes think ‘maybe I am crazy,’ but I’m not!”

“What are you talking about?”

“God, Neriah. You just don't get it, do you?” He runs his veiny hands through his hair once again before looking at me with his blown out pupils.

“No, Rafe! I don’t ‘get it!’” I shout frustratedly. “The only reason I’m here with you is because you threatened me with criminal charges. You beat my brother and were going to let Topper fucking kill him! You, you-” I scoff, pressing a hand to my forehead with a slightly gaped mouth.

“And I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for that, really.” He pleads with his eyes, pulling my hand away from my face so I’d look at him. I snatch it back, stepping past him to get to the door. “But I didn’t know how else I’d convince you to come with me. I didn’t have a choice. You didn’t give me any choice.”

“Didn’t have a choice? You didn’t have a choice?” I spin around to face the stressed out blonde behind me. “Your choice could’ve been to leave me the hell alone!”

“But I can’t do that, Neriah!” He shouts back. “I can’t do that anymore. I’ve been doing it for so long and I just can’t anymore.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t.” He presses his fingers into the sides of head as he walks up on me. “Do you know I can’t sleep without listening to that video of you singing at the Club talent show a few years ago? I used to follow you around school and watch you during lunch to make sure nobody was picking on you. I only became friends with Brye because I know he’s your best friend and I needed a way to get closer to you.”

“Rafe, you’re fucking insane.” I say in shock, backing away from him and feeling around for the door behind me.

“No I’m not! Stop calling me that!” He corners me against the door, the handle pressing into my bottom uncomfortably. He wraps a hand around my neck tightly, not enough to stop my breathing, but enough to hurt. “I love you, Neriah.”

“You don’t love me, Rafe. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I place my own hand on top of his, shivering at the way he looks down at me. “You barely know me.”

In his eyes is a mixture of things, none that I can recognize immediately with the feeling of our breath mixing together. My heart skips a beat and my stomach drops into my feet, my brain begging me to fight against him but my body staying statuesque at the feeling of his against mine.

“I do! I do…” He trails off, swallowing dryly as he looks deeply into my eyes. “I know everything about you. I know your favorite place to eat, to hang out. I know all of your hobbies, how much you used to love singing. I know you used to dance when you were younger but stopped because your parents couldn’t afford it anymore.” What the fuck?

“Rafe…”

“I know your favorite color and your favorite places to shop. I know that John B was your first kiss when it should’ve been me.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“I told you, I know everything about you.”

“Rafe, you’re scaring me.” He loosens his bruising grip on my neck, hand still firmly in place.

“I’m sorry. I just…” He sighs, pressing his warm forehead against mine.

“You called me a dolled up gutter rat and told me in so many words to stay off Figure 8, so I’m really having a hard time believing your very…abrupt change of heart.”

“I was just scared to confront my feelings. I was a stupid boy then, but I’m not like that anymore.” He says, gently rubbing circles on the side of my neck with his thumb. “Please, Neriah.”

“Rafe, please stop touching me.” He hesitates at my request for a moment before reluctantly backing away.

I swallow hard, touching my tender neck as I watch him warily. I shake my head, pressing on the door handle and briskly walk out of the room. He calls after me but doesn’t follow, leaving me to return to the party on my own.

“Hey, where did you go? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Londyn appears in front of me, her sudden appearance causing me to jump. She looks at my anxious and stressed out expression with concern, brows knitting together as she eyes the way I hold my neck. “Are you okay? What happened?”

I shake my head, moving to sit at a table near the corner of the venue and away from everyone else. I watch the door for the rest of the night, waiting anxiously for Rafe to return.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx3 #obx fanfiction #outer banks #rafe cameron x oc #outerbanks rafe #pope heyward #outer banks fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #drew starkey

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sarahs-secrets2 · 2 years ago

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Stargirl (Phillip Graves x Reader) 18+ ࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

RAHHHHHHHHH, despite the title IT'S GENDER NEUTRAL FOR ALL MY LOVES!!!!!! It's short too I'm sorry LOL, I wanted to put something out tonight but I just didn't have the energy for 1k words (feeling lazy I'm sorry)

Loosely based on Stargirl Interlude by The Weeknd

gn! (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 662

Warnings: NSFW, sexual tension, swearing, descriptions of sex dream, pet names, light smut

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

The lull between missions was the most excruciating boredom you had ever felt. Graves, you, and some other Shadows sat in the common area trying to pass boredom. Laying down on the couch you were throwing a tennis ball up in the air making a game out of trying to knock a ceiling tile out. Graves was sat at the main table flipping through files trying to busy his mind.

“Would you quit bouncing that ball, fuck”, one of the newest shadows was very obviously irritated with how you were trying to expel your boredom.

“No one said you had to sit here and watch”, glancing over at them from your spot on the couch, shooting a middle finger in their direction.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough you two”, Phillip hadn't even looked up from the scattered paperwork as he continued, “Get rid of that damn ball, we’re gonna go take watch c’mon”

“I think staring into the abyss of nothing would be more exciting than taking watch, Commander”, you stood up from the couch, walking past Phillip which gave him the chance to place his hand on your lower back as he guided you out of the room.

“Lose that attitude darling”, Graves’ whispered in your ear, making sure no one else heard. Finally reaching the lookout, the Commander dismissed the previous Shadows who were taking watch.

“Just as boring as I thought”, you laughed leaning up against the guard rail, crossing your legs slightly.

“We haven’t even been up here a minute darlin’ c’mon now, I’ll make it worth your while”, Graves walked towards you, grabbing your waist and pulling you off the rails and into him. Instinctively your hands wrapped around his neck, resting your foreheads together.

“You just wanted to get me alone Commander”, speaking barely above a whisper

“Guilty as charged”, he broke from your grasp, raising his hands like he had been caught. Keeping in mind that the two of you were on watch, Graves’ grabbed the binoculars doing a quick look around to make sure all was well. “What are you thinking about over there”, Phillip asked as he peeked at you from above the binoculars.

“Did I ever tell you about my dream you were in?”,

“I don't think you did doll, go ahead I’m listening”

“Hm okay, I was bent over the counter”,

“Is this a sex dream?” Phillip dropped the binoculars, now giving you his full attention.

“Well yeah”, you could see his pants getting tighter as he leaned up on the rail crossing his arms as he waited for you to continue.

“Go on darlin’, I’m waiting”, a smugness had taken over Graves now that he knew you were dreaming of him fucking you.

“I don’t remember all of it so don't get too excited over there”, pointing at his now very obvious erection. Phillip shrugged, he didn't mind, he was a man who didn’t shy away from sex. “My back was arched, and I was fully scratching the counter, like leaving marks”

“Minx”, Graves just laughed as you were recalling the dream to him, he outstretched a hand to pull you in. Your ass now resting on his hard cock, and his hands resting on your waist rubbing small circles with his thumbs. “What else happened?”, your breath caught in your throat as you tried to find your train of thought as Phillip whispered lightly into your ear.

“I don't remember anymore”, your face was warm and you felt dizzy.

“Well, was hoping to hear how I made you cum, but I guess I’ll settle for the real thing”, placing slow kisses on your neck as he spoke. “Let me get a new team up here to take over watch, and we can make that dream of yours a reality, how ‘bout that doll?”. Still unable to think, you nodded looking back at Phillip who was lightly pushing into your ass as he smirked at you.

"Go head back down to my room, I'll wait for the boys and meet you down there", the Commander pulled you into a kiss before sending you on your way with a wink.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Sorry it's so short </3 forgive me pls, and if there’s a typo pls lmk I’m so tired LOL

#phillip graves smut #phillip graves cod #phillip graves #philip graves x reader #phillip graves x reader #warren kole #cod mw2 #Spotify

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fandomnsfw · 2 years ago

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Pain Makes You Human - Peter Hale x Reader

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Prompt: Requested by ANON

Warning: mentions of self harm, a bit of angst and self loathing ALSO SMUT because you guys wants me to take cold showers everyday...even in winter 😂

Thank you to my lovely Beta as always! @lets-imagine-fanfics

ENJOY!!!

******

Being a teacher is the only thing you ever wanted to do. Even when you had a rough patch in your teens and ended up homeless, it was still your dream. So when you came to Beacon Hills, after finally getting your teaching degree, you couldn’t have been more ecstatic... Except you soon found out why there were so many openings to jobs in this town.   

Being startled by a giant beast that oozes black smoke can seriously make a person question their life choices. According to a few rumours, this wasn’t the first strange thing that had happened. However, as a teacher for some reason, your only concern was that a bunch of kids seemed to be at the centre of all of it.  

Soon enough you’d manage to find yourself in the pack, as their favourite go-to teacher when they need to leave for a supernatural crisis. You soon became quite close to everyone, even Stiles. Who quite naturally didn’t trust you at all when you came to town.  

However, after La Bête you and he were quite close. A lot like a brother and sister but that didn’t stop the boy sending you flirty comments as a joke.   

“Come on, Y/N, you know you love me!” Stiles whined as he wrapped his arms around your waist and started to sway you back and forth.   

“Mieczyslaw Stilinski, I suggest you get your hands off Y/N before I shoved this spatula up your god damn ass.” Derek snapped as he pointed the spatula directly at Stiles.   

“Aww, don’t be jealous, Der Bear! I love you more!” Stiles chuckled sarcastically as he pranced over to Derek. You let out a snort before continuing to get out a bowl for your cereal.   

It was pack night the previous night so you were all cramped in Derek’s loft, that didn’t seem to bother anyone. It was now Monday and everyone was rushing to get ready. You usually drove Scott or Stiles to school depending on if Stiles bring his jeep.   

“Oh, have you two finally got your act together?” Peter chuckled as he strolled into the kitchen with a smirk.  

You let out a sigh before shaking your head at him letting him know the two were just flirting and nothing more. He rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss to your temple which caused you to smile down at your cereal.   

“Dad, can you please not kiss in front of me. It’s gross.” Malia groaned as she walked into the room with a disgusted face.   

“Malia, it was hardly explicit. I kissed my lover on the head it’s hardly anything to cringe about.” Peter sighed his fatherly tone shining through.   

“Ew. Don’t say the word 'lover' either. What century do you live in?” Malia gagged as Stiles laughed into Derek back.   

“I quite like the fact your father calls me lover. It feels more mature and intimate.” You snorted playfully earning a chuckle from Scott who was dragging a very sleepy Liam and Mason behind him.   

“Lover is a term a lot of older wolfs use.” Derek laughed as Stiles pulled away to look at him with wide eyes. Suddenly every wolf in the room sniffed the room and started groaning minus Peter who looked a little smug whereas Derek just looked shocked.   

“Oh, come on, can we at least try and pretend we didn’t just smell that!” Stiles huffed his cheeks flushing softly.   

“Did you just pop a boner from Derek saying the word lover?” You laughed as you placed your now empty bowl in the sink.   

“Oh, come on! Am I that obvious!?” Stiles huffed before pouring some coffee into a flask and storming out of the loft with a pout.   

*****  

You watched as the seniors poured into your class. Scott, Stiles, Lydia and Malia were already sat down which made you laugh because every teacher in the school never understood why they came early to your class, that is +until you carefully explained that you were close to the Sheriff and were also dating the uncle of Stiles’ boyfriend. Though Stiles didn’t know that you’d told the teachers that.   

You slipped your cardigan off before making your way to your desk. Before you could open your mouth a student spoke up causing you to groan.   

“Yes, Luke?” You huffed, your hands coming to rest on your hips as you impatiently waited for his question.   

“Teach, either your seriously one kinky bitch or you need to join the emo clique because those are beyond gross.” He snorted as he stared at your arms.   

Before you could retaliate or even think about his words, Stiles was out his seat and throwing Luke against a wall, holding him there by his throat. You ran over to the pair careful not to trip over in your heels before hitting Stiles’ back. Scott was out his seat and holding you back in seconds.   

“Stiles, let him go!” You snapped as you tried to struggle against Scott’s grip.   

“If you EVER talk to her like that again I will find you and I will beat you so bad you’ll be begging for death! Do you understand!?” Stiles screamed, the deepness of his voice shocking a few of the other classmates.   

“Why, did I upset your little girlfriend?” Stiles laughed at the boy’s response before looking into the boy's eyes, so coldly it sent visible shivers down his spine.   

“I SAID! Do. YOU. Understand?” Stiles growled causing the boy's eyes to widen.   

“Y-Yes!” Luke stuttered softly before Stiles finally let him go. You looked at Stiles as he turned around ignoring the boy who was now sitting on the floor catching his breath.   

“If a little brother can’t protect his sister what kind of man would I be?” Stiles laughed before ruffling your hair gently.   

“I-Idiot. I’m gonna have to give you detention now…” You sniffled as you wiped away the tears that had fallen.   

****  

You sat in your car outside of your apartment, staring down at the scars with hatred. You wished they were gone. You hated that you always had to hide your arms like some sort of innocent girl who goes to an all-girls Catholic school.   

Luke’s words kept running through your head. Despite the fact that his words were childish, they still hit a nerve within you. Peter knew and had seen your scars but he had always told you to never cover them because it was a reminder that I was stronger than some. That I had gotten through something most people couldn’t even dream of. However, that didn’t stop your tears that began falling down your face.   

You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying but when someone opened the door and you got hit with the scent of Peter’s favourite cologne. You knew you had to of been sat there for at least an hour.   

“Woah, baby, what’s the matter?” Peter asked softly as he picked you up and locked your car.   

“N-Nothing.” You sobbed as you clung to him tightly.   

“Sweetheart, you finished school over an hour ago and you look like you haven’t moved in at least that long. Your make up is all over your face and most of all you’re crying.” Peter sighed sadly as he carried you into your apartment with ease.   

“Oh, j-just another thing that makes me l-look gross.” You cried out as you wiped at your face furiously.   

“Who the hell said you were gross!?” Peter asked angrily, his eyes flashing blue as he stared down at you.   

“N-No one.” You knew even if he wasn’t supernatural he’d know that was a lie but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.   

“I’m calling Stiles.” Peter huffed angrily.   

You shot out your seat and tried to grab his phone but he held you back as gently as he could. The phone rang twice before Stiles picked up, his voice calm as if he knew why Peter was calling. Peter glanced at you as he asked what happened today.   

‘A student said something about her scars.’ Stiles answered sadly.  

“What did they say?!” Peter growled viciously.   

‘That she must either be a kinky bitch or belonged in the emo clique because her scars were gross.’ Stile huffed his anger matching Peter’s   

“What’s his name?” Peter snarled  

‘I handled it, don’t worry.’ Stiles replied calmly.   

“Thank you, Stiles.” Peter muttered in a soft tone that he only ever reserved for you before hanging up.   

He turned to you with a frown before picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. His body was warm and inviting as usual, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to relax into it. You felt like you didn't deserve it.  

He placed you on the counter next to the sink before walking to the bathtub and turning the taps on. He was quiet which wasn't alarming because as much as Peter was sarcastic he enjoyed the quiet.  

He put one of the many lush bath bombs he’d bought you into the water before turning to the small makeup area you had on the opposite side of the sink.  

He picked up the packet of makeup removal wipes and moved back towards you, whilst taking one out. He reached towards your makeup smeared face and began wiping away the evidence of your minor break down.  

After another wipe was used your face was clear if makeup and the bath was done running. He stripped off the rest of your clothes along with his before picking you up and placing you in the bath.  

You moved forward silently so he could get in behind you. Once he was sat down he gathered up your hair and tied it into a messy bun so it wouldn’t get wet. It was amazing how he knew your daily routine. How he knew you didn’t wash your hair every day or how you used makeup removal wipes to remove your makeup but you still washed your face.  

He was beyond the perfect partner which is why you knew now that you were settled into the bath a conversation was about to happen. Whether you liked it or not. 

“You know your scars are not ‘gross’ right?” Peter muttered against your shoulder before pressing a soft kiss against your skin.  

‘No, I don’t know that.’ You thought bitterly. 

“Y-Yeah.” You lied despite knowing lying to a werewolf was useless.  

“Why don’t we try that again?” Peter sighed sadly as he picked up your exfoliating gloves. Usually, you would’ve laughed at the sight of the great Peter Hale wearing baby pink exfoliating gloves but right now you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh. 

“You are not gross. Your scars are not gross. Nothing about you is gross.” Peter muttered as he rubbed your usual body wash into the gloves.  

He began rubbing the gloves over your body with just the right amount of pressure so it didn’t hurt, yet still left a slight tingling feeling on your skin. After finishing your arms he moved onto your back when finally he spoke up again.  

“I will tell you again. Your scars are proof that you are a survivor.” He muttered as he continued scrubbing your back.  

“They’re self-inflicted.” You hissed bitterly causing him to stop all movements.  

“That means nothing to me.” He scolded before continuing his circular motions.  

“What do werewolves do to regain control if they can’t anchor it?” Peter asked gently.  

“T-That depends o-” 

“What do they do, Y/N?” Peter interrupted his tone leaving no room for avoidance.  

“T-They hurt themselves…” You muttered quietly.  

“Pain makes you human. Self-harm is different for everyone. Some do it for release, others for it to ground them. But…” Peter muttered as he began scrubbing your chest with slightly lighter circles this time.  

“…Everyone deals with things differently self-harm involved or not.” He sighed quietly as he started on your legs. 

“Some go insane and kill their niece to enact vengeance.” Peter. 

“Some bury it until they become sour and hateful towards everyone.” Derek. 

“And others lean on friends and move on in a healthy way.” Scott. 

By the time he’d made his point your whole body had been washed leaving you clean and feeling slightly better about the day’s events. You knew this conversation wasn’t over by a long shot but at least now you felt willing to listen. 

After Peter washed himself with his own sponge he rinsed you both off and picked you up to help you out the bath. Once he set you on your feet you wobbled a little before righting yourself. He walked towards your makeup area and picked up your toner and moisturizer before moving back to you once again.  

He used a cotton pad to apply the toner gently all over your face. You almost laughed at how sweetly domestic the scene was but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to just yet, instead you settled for a sad smile as he waited for the toner to dry.  

Once he finished putting your moisturizer on, he dried you off then wrapped the towel around you. You followed him to the bedroom silently waiting for his next words but as you came to a stop in front of him, words were clearly not how he was going to proceed.  

You let you towel fall as he picked you up and placed you on the end of the bed carefully, before kneeling down in front of you and proceeding to kiss up your smooth legs.  

His movements were slow and loving causing your breath to stutter. Your eyes never left his, until he finally reached the scars on your thighs which evidently made you avert your eyes. 

Most people didn't know about the scars on your thighs. Mostly because after a 'conversation' with your parents about how they'd force you to get help if they saw anymore, you'd decided to switch to a less noticeable place. 

When his lips finally pressed against your scars your breathing stop for a second before you finally forced yourself to look. When your eyes looked down Peter's were staring straight back at you with so much love and affection it almost made you whimper. 

As he continued kissing up your body you let out a soft moan. He skipped past your core which usually would be a form of playful torment. However, right now, you knew this wasn't about pleasure. It was about reassurance that no matter what, this man would love you. 

As he moved to your arms his eyes flicked back to yours making sure your eyes had not once again averted. When he was happy they hadn't he continued placing soft wet kisses against the scars. 

You finally released the breathless whimper you'd been holding back causing Peter’s eyes to search your face for any signs of sadness. You knew he could use his wolf senses to tell how you were feeling but he didn't like intruding on your personal emotions.  

As he kissed you shoulder you finally gave in and cupped his face gently before pressing a soft chaste kiss on his lips. His lips were soft yet slightly swollen from all the kisses but you didn't care. 

When you pulled away your eyes searched his to see if any pity was reflected but all you saw was determination, love and the slightest bit of lust.  

“You are beautiful inside and out. And I would not change one thing about you.” He whispered against your lips. 

Your E/C eyes teared up as they stared into the ocean blue ones that were your lover’s. This was the man who had his entire family ripped away from him. The man that went insane and came back from the dead. 

But most of all... 

This was the man you loved. 

“Make love to me.” You whispered brokenly. He gave you a small nod before standing up and moving you further onto the bed. You laid down opening your arms and separating your legs so he could situate between them. 

Once he was within reach you wrapped your arms around him tightly. He leant down at the same time pressing his lips to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss.  

He licked along your bottom lip before pushing his tongue past your lips and twisting it with yours. Unlike most of your kisses this one wasn’t a fight for dominance it was a fight for understanding. His hands caressed your body so desperately yet tenderly it was like it was the last thing he'd ever do. You were panting against his lips as he pulled away slightly, his eyes boring into yours.  

His hand made it to your sex which you knew despite the lack of your usual heavy foreplay was dripping wet. He brushed his middle finger down the centre of it causing you to gasp and him to groan in satisfaction at the wetness he felt. 

When he pushed two fingers into you, you couldn't help the filthy moan that escaped your lips. As his finger began thrusting in and out of your heat.  

The steady string of moans leaving your mouth was causing Peter’s breathing to deepen as he kept his steady pace. He scissored his fingers inside of you gently stretching you out.  

After a few minutes, he pulled out his fingers and slid three in this time. You clung to his shoulders your light pink nails digging into his back as you attempted to ground yourself. When you couldn't take it anymore you clenched around him letting him know you were close. He pulled his fingers out earning himself a whimper from you. 

“Please, Peter...I-I need you inside me.” You pleaded desperately as he let you catch your breath.  

“Okay, my love.” He replied, his voice tender as he caressed your cheek with his other hand. 

He lined himself up with your entrance before giving you a careful look. His eyes stared into your as he pushed inside of you slowly. 

In your younger years before you met Peter, you always found staring into your partner's eyes awkward and uncomfortable but after you fell in love with Peter that changed. Yet suddenly it was no longer awkward but a way to convey your love for the other person. It made you feel closer to Peter than you had anyone in your entire life. And to you that meant something.  

“Peter..” You moaned as your back arched causing your breasts to push against his chest. 

“I've got you, baby.” He whispered as he started moving in and out of your tight heat. His thrusts calculated and slow as his forearm supported his weight next to the right side of your head, his hand entangled in your hair as the other cupped your face gently. 

Every thrust he made had you panting a moaning against his lips. His hot breathe mingling with yours as he finally started letting out husky groans of pleasure.  

Every sound of ecstasy he made only served to push you closer to the edge. Your body pressed so close to his as you cling to him for dear life. 

“P-Peter... ‘M close.” You stuttered against his lips. 

“Me t-too, my love.” He groaned as his eyes flashed blue and his thrust became uncalculated.  

He moved the hand from your cheek between you and proceeded to press a finger to your clit. He barely circled the bundle of nerves twice before you were moaning out his name in release. He thrust a few more times as you clenched around him before he poured his seed inside you. Your name slipping past his lips as he came. 

After a minute he pulled out and moved to the bathroom. He came back with a washcloth and a hairbrush which caused you to chuckle softly, your voice still wrecked from all the moaning. He wiped you down before sitting you up and untying you hair. He brushed through the waves before sitting behind you and concentrating on braiding your hair so it would be wavy for tomorrow as well. 

Once he was done, he pulled you both under the covers able you lay on his chest.  

“I love you.” You mumbled against his right peck before pressing a soft kiss there. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

#peter hale #peter #hale #peter hale x reader #peter hale x you #peter x reader #peter x you #teen wolf #tw #teen wolf imagine #imagine #smut #fluff #angst #self harm

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