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100vern · 6 months ago

Note

hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌

tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡

— we need to talk

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3

Seungcheol is incensed.

What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?

Who the fuck had invited you?

He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.

But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—

Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”

Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”

Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.

Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”

As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.

And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.

Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.

But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.

And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.

So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.

Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.

Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.

That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.

Right.

Of course.

That was to be expected.

So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.

But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.

He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.

And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”

Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.

“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”

The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.

Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.

And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.

You don’t want more.

You don’t want the label and the relationship.

You don’t want him.

He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.

Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”

Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”

“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.

Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”

Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”

The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”

True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.

Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle

Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.

Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight

Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.

For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.

Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.

But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.

Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?

Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?

Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?

God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.

Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off

He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.

Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.

You (23:41) Something wrong?

Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.

Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?

But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.

Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.

And god does it kill him.

You (23:44) Don’t act stupid

A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.

You (23:44) Mingyu invited me

Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.

Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes

You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.

You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself

Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.

“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”

Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.

Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”

“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”

Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.

This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.

“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.

Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”

Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.

He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.

Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.

Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.

What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.

The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”

“Seungcheol—”

He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”

You gasp. “No.”

“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.

“I wasn’t—”

A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”

Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”

Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”

Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.

But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—

“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?

He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.

“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.

Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”

Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”

Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”

“What?”

You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”

Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”

“To—to to-touch me.”

You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”

“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”

“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”

You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”

“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”

“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”

All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”

Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—

Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.

You’ve ruined him.

Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—

Loves.

Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.

Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ‘drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?

“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—

“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—

He can’t bring himself to say it.

But he can—“Can I show you instead?”

Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.

Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.

He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.

Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.

He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”

You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”

He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”

Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”

This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.

Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.

“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”

“No shit—”

He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.

He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—

“Do it right, Cheol, please—”

And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”

The rest is muscle memory.

The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.

Tastes a lot like I love you.

“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”

The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.

“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.

“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”

You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”

I love you.

You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.

He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.

You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.

“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.

Maybe it was never like this before.

Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.

So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.

This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”

This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.

This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.

“Say it again.”

Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.

The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.

He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Okay?”

You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.

Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.

“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”

A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.

“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”

He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”

He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”

No, it was never like this.

#seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #scoups smut #seungcheol imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #scoups fanfic #jewel writes #fic: wntt

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hushedlover · 2 years ago

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In your defense it was the week before your period and Mike looked so fucking good, jeans low on his hips and T-shirt clinging to his arms.

“Mike,” you whined with your shoulder hunched forward to show your sadness. “C’mon, who’s really gonna break into an old abandoned kids play place? It’s just a creepy dump.”

Mike had his back facing you as he dug around in one of his drawers looking for something. His shoulders tensed and raised slightly towards his ears as he sighed.

“Don’t start, please. You know I need this job. For Abby,” he rasped. It hurt your heart to see how tired he was. You knew he needed a break.

Searching for some new material to use against him in your argument, your eyes traveled the room. They passed over the bare walls with no luck and continued until they landed on his bed. Navy blue, rough material caught your eye. Mike’s security vest lay discarded on the bed. Your face lit up with mischief.

“Well, if I can’t convince you,” your voice trailed off as you inched towards the mattress. With your eyes locked on Mike’s back to make sure he didn’t turn around, you snatched the best into your grip. A triumphant smile pulled at your lips as you slid the material over your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to-,” Mike’s words cut off as he turned and saw you. His face fell impossibly more at the sight, but you saw the light that filled his eyes. You knew he just didn’t want to leave you when you looked so fucking good in his vest.

“Okay, that’s real cute. Now give it.”

He held his hand out, waiting patiently for you to hand over the cloth. His eyebrows raised in annoyance when you only smirked and crossed your arms. You took a single step backwards and his face morphed into one you only saw when you were being a true brat.

“Do not,” He warned. Your smile widened. He took a step forward. You stepped back again. That did it. Mike lunged towards you and you spun on your heel, sprinting off.

It didn’t take long for Mike to catch up. Big, warm, and calloused hands gripped your hips tightly and yanked you back into a hard chest. You didn’t have time to process before you were being spun around and lifted off your feet. Your lower abdomen folded over a broad shoulder, you chest hitting Mike’s back as you were tossed over his shoulder like a potato sack.

You were still disoriented and grappling at the back off his shirt when Mike’s big hand smacked down on your left ass cheek.

“You just never fuckin’ listen,” He growled as he carried you back into his room.

Send in Mike requests <3

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #micheal schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x fem!reader smut

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mingumis · 4 months ago

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waves of you | kmg

you're called to the ocean, like a sailor to a siren's song. kim mingyu's soul is made of the same stuff as yours.

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader genres/themes: slow burn, pining, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, eventual fluff (suggestive bonus at the end!) tw: brief mentions of mental health and medication, unhealthy coping mechanisms a/n: my first fic ever posted! pls let me know if this is any good,, wc: 7.4k

You were born on an island, and although growing up, you rarely visited the beach once a year, in adulthood, something about the ocean calls you back to it and eases your nerves. The salt in the air that you taste with each breath, the fine sand hot between your toes, the waves that lap at your ankles, everything is familiar and puts your soul at peace.

It’s what enabled you to become friends with Mingyu, you think, because he’s also inevitably led to the coasts and the sands and the water. Because otherwise, the popular, well-loved sports junkie that he is would never have even looked your way back in freshman year, you tell yourself.

“Oh, how beautiful,” your friend, Yujin, breathes out a gasp as the car rounds the corner and turns onto a road that overlooks the beach that you’re headed towards. Minghao, her boyfriend and the current driver of the car, takes a peek and hums in agreement. It rouses you from your half-asleep daze, and you sit up a little to crane your neck to the side to look out the window.

She’s right. The cabin that your group of friends has rented for the weekend sits cozily along a row of other identical lodgings, dotting a beautiful shoreline that meets the eastern sea. The sunrises are gorgeous, Yujin had insisted, and that had been enough to convince you to come along. Of course, the mention of Kim Mingyu’s presence on the trip hadn’t been omitted either. The view, further solidifying the reality of this upcoming weekend, and the recollection of the conversation sends a flutter of anticipation in your stomach, which you try your best to swallow away.

Once Minghao pulls into the designated parking stalls for the campgrounds, you’re pulling at your belt buckle and all but scrambling out of the backseat. Instantly, you take a lungful of the salty air, feet surging forward and leading you towards the water. You barely hear and acknowledge Yujin’s amused murmur, “There she goes again.”

As you near the beach, you crouch to pull your sneakers and socks off, planting your bare feet into the sand and breathing a quiet sigh of relief. You almost feel instantly healed from the headache of work and life. There’s a few remaining minutes of the sun left, so a few stragglers saunter along the beach still. A family with two squealing children, a couple quietly sharing a blanket around their shoulders, and a singular, tall silhouette that you would recognize anywhere in the world.

Almost as if he’s been expecting you, the man turns his head over his shoulders at the same time that you distinguish him. The grin that splits Mingyu’s face takes your breath away, more than the purple and orange and blue of the twilight sky overhead.

“Hey,” he calls your name with a wave to accompany it, his own shoes dangling from his other hand. “About time you guys showed up!” He’s in a white linen cardigan, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and his jean cuffs are folded up to his ankles neatly. A pair of sunglasses hang from the vee of his collar, and his hair is wind tossed and salt ruffled. He looks every part a resident of this sleepy, seaside town.

You will your racing heart to calm as you take each footstep towards him carefully and intentionally, so as not to rush and trip. Once you get close enough to see the moles on his nose, cheeks, and forehead that you love so much, you return his smile easily.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Mingyu just agrees and laughs.

When the sun finally disappears behind the mountains to the west, the two of you can’t linger any longer, especially as the wind picks up with a bite. Mingyu lets you take the lead as you trudge through the cold sand, barely satisfied with the glimpse of the ocean.

You enter the house first, kicking your shoes clean outside, and immediately, a warm body crashes into you forcefully and nearly knocks you clear off of your feet. Thankfully, you’re held upright by a sturdy surface behind you, as you grasp at your chest, where your heart lurches in surprise.

“Seokmin,” you hiss out, mid-complaint, but the man already apologizes at a million words per minute, arms looped around your shoulders.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Seokmin mumbles sheepishly, hugging you properly, as if it’s consolation for giving you the fright of a lifetime (it is). “I just missed you so much!”

A quiet rumble of a laugh breaks you out of the moment, and it’s with mild horror that you realize that the surface that caught you from crashing to the floor is actually Mingyu’s broad, firm chest. With a jolt, you straighten up under Seokmin’s hold and shuffle farther into the hallway, leaving the two men behind and pretending to huff as you go.

In the kitchen, Yujin and Minghao quietly tuck away the groceries and drinks into the fridge and freezer, and you study them for a moment, watching as they work effortlessly in tandem without saying a single word. Their movements come practiced and easy, through years of patience and work and fighting and loving. Despite the smile that curls onto your lips, you wonder cynically if you’ll ever find that sort of love for yourself.

“Oh!” Yujin has turned to place something onto the kitchen counter and has caught sight of you lingering. “And how’s your estranged lover doing?”

You snort out a laugh, broken from your reverie, just as Mingyu and Seokmin catch up to you and crowd around the counter.

“You have a lover?” Seokmin gapes innocently, eyes bright with confusion. He turns to glance at Mingyu, who responds with a shrug and a nibble along his bottom lip.

“Yeah, and his name is the ocean,” Yujin deadpans with a quick roll of her eyes. “Can’t get enough of him, really. Maybe that’s why she can’t seem to find a guy.” She bites playfully, knowingly shifting her gaze from you to Mingyu and back.

You wince, “Ouch.” Pretend not to notice the way Seokmin offers you a sympathetic smile nor the sag of Mingyu’s shoulders. Instead, you plaster on the brightest grin you can manage and change the subject.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

–

You sit on the deck railing, half-ignoring and half-laughing at Yujin’s shrill warnings for you to be careful because if you fall and break your leg, nobody’s taking you to the ER. Behind you, Mingyu mans the grill, and Minghao sets the table up for dinner. Seokmin, bless his heart, sidles up behind you and mumbles sweetly that he’ll drive you, if it comes to it. You thank him with a grin, popping open your can of seltzer and knocking a mouthful back.

The darkness that you stare into is dizzying, but there’s a certain calm that it brings. You swing your legs back and forth, balancing yourself on the wooden beam carefully, and sip away at the can, listening to the distant waves crash and break.

“Doin’ alright?”

The voice comes without warning, and you jump at its proximity which jostles you an inch forward, teetering a bit off balance. Before you have the chance to right yourself, an arm snakes around your waist, holding you back firmly.

“Mingyu,” you breathe. “You scared me.” The motion has made your drink spill all over your hand and pants, and you pull a face, bringing your arm up to lick away at the stray droplets clinging to your skin.

The man besides you giggles a little sheepishly, “Sorry. Dinner’s ready, but you seemed so peaceful and I didn’t want to bother you.” He pulls away once you twist around to come down from the rail, and you instantly mourn the loss of his warmth.

Nonsense, you quickly admonish yourself. As smitten as you may be with the man, you have to remind yourself constantly that he’s been seeing another girl for almost the better part of a year now. The day that epiphany had come, through a careless slip of Wonwoo’s tongue, had gone over rough. You had spent an entire weekend moping on the couch, as Yujin and Minghao, Seokmin and Soonyoung, and Chan and Seungkwan took rotating shifts to make sure you didn’t fall apart completely and do anything stupid.

You know that you’re pathetic, pining after the only person you know who comes close to being perfect, but you’re anything but weak so you tried to take it in stride, laughing easily at jokes and eating all of the sweet treats that your friends brought you to cheer you up. It was only after you shut the door behind Seungkwan and Chan taking off for the night with lingering hugs and quiet murmurs of comfort that you allowed yourself to unravel, heaving through dry sobs that shook your entire body until the tears followed.

You let yourself cry over Mingyu that one night and never again.

Now, as you trail along back inside to the dinner table, eyes glued to the wide expanse of his back, you wish you could cry. Mingyu’s perfect, you’re realizing all over again, as if the distance and time away from him had made you forget. Perfect, but not meant for you.

You gulp down the rest of your seltzer just as you sink into your designated chair to chase away the bitterness that pools in the back of your throat. Seokmin leans into you, bumping his shoulder against yours with a concerned furrow to his brow, but you wave him away with a smile.

“Eat up,” you urge him, nodding towards the piles of barbequed meats that Mingyu has grilled.

You quickly realize that the dining table, despite being long and wide enough to seat all five comfortably, is still too small because you can hear every word, giggle, grumble coming from Mingyu. It gets to the point where you’re just one more seltzer in, barely having nibbled on a short rib or two, and you’re all but sagging into Seokmin’s side, hanging off of every word that comes from Mingyu’s mouth as he recounts some funny story.

At one of the punchlines, you squeak out a giggle, unable to hold it in, and the whole table turns to glance at you, which then makes the others laugh too.

“Oh, man.” Mingyu grins, visibly pleased by the reaction to his story. “She’s gone.”

You snort a puff of air out, mumbling, “M’right here!” Your friends laugh again, and Seokmin snakes his arm around your back to hold you up in your seat, snickering as he does.

“Don’t remember you being such a lightweight,” he muses, chewing on his lip, before he dips his face close to yours to whisper. “You alright?”

You merely smile, head bobbing once. He’s so warm and gentle besides you, and you’ve been so starved for touch like this that you all but melt into him. “Never been better.”

By now, Minghao and Yujin have started up another one of their stories, and you listen along in a half-daze, eyes shut and cheek against Seokmin’s shoulder.

You don’t see Mingyu’s gaze lingering on where you’re pressed into Seokmin.

–

You wake before the sun, mouth dry as if you’ve eaten sand. Someone has carried you from the table to the room with the giant king-sized bed, tucked you into the sheets next to Yujin. Quietly, you slip out of bed, brush your teeth, and shower, and without even meaning to, your feet lead you out of the house, onto the shore.

It’s still too early for the sunrise, and the sky yawns above you, navy blue and speckled with stars. You crane your neck back, mouthing out the few names that you know. Orion’s Belt, Canis Major, Sirius. Once you’ve exhausted the constellations that you know, you find a dry spot in the sand, sit with your legs folded and knees hugged to your chest.

You finally let your guard down, breathing in through your nose, letting out a shuddering sigh through your teeth. Maybe this was a mistake, you ponder, running your fingers through the sand absently. It really is nice seeing your friends after so long, and the ocean welcomes you back home with open arms, but Mingyu’s presence, his beauty, his easy smiles leave the wound in your heart raw and open. Festering.

Another few moments pass by lost in thought, until you pick up your head and notice that the sky has started to lighten overhead. Just then, a short whistle catches your attention, and when you turn, you suppose you’re not even surprised to find Mingyu crossing over the beach towards you.

Your heart pulses and aches as you take him in. He’s in his checkered pajama pants still, a giant gray hoodie pulled on over his head. In the crook of his elbow are two water bottles, as if he knew you’d be here. Something about that thought unravels you even more.

“You’re up early,” you mumble in greeting, nodding your appreciation when he hands you one of the bottles.

Mingyu clicks his tongue and shrugs. “Wanted to see what the fuss about the sunrise was about. You?” He comes right beside you, planting himself into the sand and taking up the same position as you, elbows perched onto his knees.

“Woke up dehydrated as fuck,” you say around a mouthful of water, grinning when he laughs. The man doesn’t say anything else, tilting his head up to watch as the sun begins its ascent.

Despite the ache in your chest, it’s so easy to be Mingyu’s friend, to act like you don’t love him so much that you could die. It’s easy to sit here in silence with him, shoulder to shoulder, elbows brushing, pretending that the moment, and the world, belongs to the two of you.

You zone out, concentrating on keeping your breath steady and thoughts reigned in. It isn’t until a tiny gasp catches in Mingyu’s throat that you’re looking away from the waves, first to him and then up above. Overhead, the sun has risen just enough to send a million colors across the sky. It’s a different palette from yesterday’s sunset, as orange and pink and blue swirl around each other. You stare, enraptured by the sight, and for a second, everything is perfect.

“Okay,” Mingyu says softly. “I get the hype now.”

You glance at him, trace your gaze along the cheeky smile, the wonder in his eyes. Your heart squeezes, and you nod in agreement.

Being here in this moment with him alone loosens your tongue, or maybe you’re still not completely sober because the words are escaping before you even have the thought to stop them.

“Why did you come, Mingyu?” Your eyes widen in horror as you hear your own voice above the gentle push and pull of the waves, but it’s too late to take anything back now.

The man blinks in surprise once, twice, leaning his cheek against a knee to fully look at you. “For the sunrise, silly.”

No, you want to exclaim. Why did you come this weekend? Why did you come alone? But you’re a coward, and you always have been, so you swallow away the rest and hum in response.

–

“Hey, Tiny. Come say hi.”

If the rasp of Mingyu’s voice isn’t enough, that dumb, aggravating nickname that he insists on teasing you with sends your stomach tumbling. He peers over at you innocently as he sits on a stool at the kitchen counter, holding his phone in one hand, his chin in the other, elbow propped up. You cut him a glare, peeking at the screen that he turns to you to find Seungkwan and Chan’s faces peering back at you.

“Oh!” You smile, pleasantly surprised. “Hi, Kwannie, Channie.”

“Hi, Tiny,” comes their response in unison, Chan’s mouth quirking up into a smirk and Seungkwan’s eyes widening mockingly. Little shits.

You scowl immediately, turning away with a sigh. “Sorry, I don’t talk to mean people.”

Thankfully, Chan and Seungkwan know exactly when to indulge someone, and they paw at the screen, blasting the speakers out with incoherent shrieks of apology. You chuckle, dipping behind to put your face besides Mingyu’s.

“Much better,” you nod. “Miss you guys.”

Chan’s grin softens, and Seungkwan splutters at the sudden tenderness, lips jutting out into a pout. “Wish we could’ve come too,” he ends up murmuring, gaze swimming with affection. “It’s been a while since we all got together.”

You chat with the two, and Mingyu interjects occasionally with his own quips until a notification drops from the top of his screen. His thumb swipes it away before you can fully make out the contact, but you do catch the purple heart emoji tagged after the end and your heart drops. You must freeze because Chan pauses in the midst of his sentence and his brow creases a little.

Mingyu takes advantage of the lull in conversation to mumble out a quick excuse and apology, “Hey, guys, I gotta go make a call real quick. Can we call back later?”

You both hurriedly say your goodbyes, before Mingyu’s pushing himself up and away from the kitchen counter without another word. Left alone, you hover for a few seconds, disappointed, before shuffling through the house to find your other friends.

You’re not going to let your weekend getaway be ruined by something like this.

And that’s how you find yourself, clinging to Seokmin’s shoulders as he marches deeper and deeper into the water. His arms hold strong, looped under your knees, and he just giggles, skin warm beneath your fingertips. Just ahead, Yujin teeters precariously atop Minghao’s shoulders, teeth flashing as she shrieks giddily.

“You’re quiet,” Seokmin notes, tilting his head back to look at you. “Everything alright?”

You just hold tighter, hiding your face away into his shoulder. It’d be so much easier to love Seokmin. You already do love him, for his infinite joy and compassion for others, for his positive, sunny presence. But it’s not the same, and it never would be the same. You hate yourself for these thoughts.

“Is it Mingyu?”

You frown and mumble his question away, “No, it’s just my dumb head thinking too much.” With a ruffle of his damp hair and a quick kiss to the cheek, you assure, “I’m okay. Thanks for worrying about me.”

Seokmin merely shies away at the touch, cackling bashfully. He drops his voice to a whisper, “Let’s go dunk those two.” Tightening his hold on you, he surges forward to the unsuspecting couple, and you lunge for Yujin, toppling her off of Minghao and into the sea, which sets off a round of screaming and splashing that makes you forget about everything. It’s hard to be lovesick when your friends are around, grabbing you by the waist to throw you into the water.

–

I can see that you’re hurting.

Your thumbs hover over the phone screen, eyes roving everywhere, anywhere, but that particular gray bubble in the message log with Lee Chan. Lee Chan, who’s so perceptive that he can read you like an open book through a fifteen minute video call. Lee Chan, who’s so in tune with his own emotions that he’s not afraid to call you out on your own.

Breathing a defeated sigh, you type out a response.

I’m doing alright, Channie. I’d rather see him and hurt than never see him again.

His message back is instant: You’re torturing yourself.

You dig a knuckle into a temple, easing the sharp jab that arises from the conversation. With another halfhearted attempt of reassuring Chan, you shut your phone off and pocket it, switching it out for the two pill bottles you’ve carried out with you. You continue what you were doing before Chan’s concern interrupted you, reaching for a mug in the cabinets and filling it with water.

In the midst of shaking out a single pill from each bottle, a gentle voice quivers out from the hall, making you jump and tense. As your luck would have it, it’s Mingyu, forehead creasing as he looks from your face to the labeled orange prescription bottles to the tiny pills in your palm. He holds an empty glass, as if he’s also come out for a drink of water. His face, initially cautious and guarded, opens up, confused and worried and devastated.

“Hey, Tiny,” he mumbles, padding closer and closer. “Everything alright?”

No, no, no, no. You had purposefully crept out of bed once the house settled into a prolonged silence, afraid that you'd run into one of the others. You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, pinned by Mingyu’s searching gaze on you.

When he gets close enough, you finally force yourself to move, hurriedly pocketing the bottles and tossing the pills into your mouth and swallowing them dry. In your panic, they get stuck halfway down your throat, and you have to gulp desperate mouthfuls of water down to dislodge them. Fuck, you’re making a mess of yourself.

Pull yourself together, you chide before urging a smile onto your face.

“Hey,” you murmur back, careful to keep your voice even. “I’m okay, just getting ready for bed. What are you doing up?”

He mutters a quiet reply, “Was on a call.” Right. He’s been on and off his phone all afternoon and night, ever since he scrambled away from the kitchen counter earlier in the morning. He had missed out on the entire beach session, only joining in with the group briefly for dinner, wearing a permanent furrow to his brow.

Despite your attempt at steering him away, Mingyu’s appraisal of your expression penetrates your soul, gaze slow and intentional. He doesn’t press, he never does, but his presence is firm and it’s clear that he’s not backing down without answers.

You shut your eyes in defeat, breathing through a few moments of working up the courage to vocalize something you haven’t told any of your friends. Not even Seokmin or Chan. Because saying it out loud, telling someone else, means that it’s real, means that you’re acknowledging that you are weak after all, despite all of your bravado.

As a last ditch attempt, you wince, “Do you have to know?”

“Yes,” Mingyu insists.

“Why?”

A long silence stretches between the two of you.

“Because you–” Mingyu cuts his words off abruptly, and when you glance up at him, his eyes widen imperceptibly, surprised. He hesitates, which is weird to see because Mingyu never dithers. He always, always barrels through things, whether he’s prepared for them or not. It’s one of the things you admire most about him, so when he falters, it’s your turn to give him a strange look. “Because I’m your friend,” he finally settles on, which makes your stomach sink in disappointment, “I’m worried about you, but you never let people worry about you, which frustrates me.”

Your chest could have been torn, ribs pulled apart to bare your aching, bleeding heart, and it would probably feel the same as you do now as you speak, throwing the words out into the cold, midnight air hollowly. “I take antidepressants. Helps with my anxiety.”

Mingyu exhales forcefully, as if his breath has been punched out from him. He moves automatically, reaching a hand up to cup your face, palm warm against your cheek. “How long?”

His touch is searing, and you ball your hands into fists to stop yourself from tearing yourself away from him or running or throwing up.

“Almost six months now.”

The day after you cried over Mingyu, you had promptly scheduled yourself a slot into a therapist’s office, who had been recommended to you by Yujin. About four months of therapy alone had proven insufficient, and your therapist had suggested medication, which you had greedily, almost desperately, accepted.

“Nobody else knows,” you start blabbing, stomach suddenly lurching with fear because now that one person knows, it’s only a matter of time before others do. Mingyu’s not a snitch, you know this somewhere deep inside your head, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll think that this is information that needs to be shared.

“Hey,” he rasps, but you barely acknowledge it, thoughts racing and dipping deeper and deeper into the swirl of dread and misery that exists constantly inside your head.

“Tiny.”

Only the slight irritation that spikes at the sound of the nickname rouses you from the spiral, and you return to the moment, frowning. Mingyu smiles, despite it all.

“I won’t tell a soul.”

He stays true to his word and doesn’t even bring it up the following morning, but he may as well be screaming at the top of his lungs that something is wrong, through his newfound devotion to hovering beside you at all times. You’ve been brushing past Yujin’s curious hums and dodging Minghao’s side eyeing all morning, but during lunch out at the beachside town, Mingyu pulls your salad away to manually cut the chicken breast into bite-sized pieces in front of everyone before handing the plate back over to you wordlessly. When Seokmin’s eyes appear to be bugging out of their sockets, you decide to intervene.

You have to catch him by the elbow, pulling him aside momentarily as the others step into a gift shop to hiss, “Okay, you’re freaking everyone out.”

Mingyu merely blinks his huge, guiltless eyes at you. “What do you mean?”

“You’re hovering. Stop that. I’m depressed, not dying.”

The man scratches at his neck sheepishly, swiveling his head from side to side to see if anyone has overheard. “Just trying to take care of you is all,” he shrugs.

You sigh. This is exactly why you’d chosen not to tell your friends anything. “I appreciate it,” you say, poking a fingertip against his chest (pretending that you don’t notice the way his firm skin barely gives way beneath the pressure). “But please, at least try to be subtle about it?”

Mingyu merely lets a grin split his face like an overjoyed puppy, as if he’s just glad you haven’t refused his special treatment.

You turn away and into the gift shop, ignoring the way the tips of your ears burn red-hot.

–

“So…”

You groan loudly, lifting an elbow out of the jacuzzi water to tuck your face into the crook of it.

“I didn’t even say anything yet!” Yujin protests as she quietly slips into the tub beside you, knees knocking against yours. She holds out a can of beer to you, which you politely refuse, having already had a moment of weakness on the first night.

“But!” She continues, gaze burning fierce with curiosity. “I think everyone has caught onto you guys, so spill.”

You blink owlishly, wondering what ideas your other friends have come up with. “Sorry to disappoint,” you say mildly, shrugging, “but nothing’s going on.”

Yujin gasps, scandalized. “Then why is Mingyu trailing after you like a lovesick puppy?”

Is that what it looks like? You want to laugh it off, but your friend’s words only lodge a tight knot in your throat that you can barely swallow around.

“He is not.”

“He totally is! Minghao told me that he saw you guys coming in together from the beach yesterday morning, so we assumed something happened then!”

You watch, pained, as Yujin excitedly spins a theory, and you must look pathetic enough because her own expression falls. “What?” Her voice lowers into a concerned whisper, and she reaches for your hand beneath the surface of the water.

“He’s definitely still with that girl.” You try not to sound bitter, squeezing at her fingers. “I saw her texting him, and they were calling the other day.”

“Oh,” she calls your name sympathetically. “I’m so sorry.”

You merely smile at her, wave away her concern. “Don’t be,” you insist, “It’s about time that I get over it anyway. I can’t keep living my life like this, right?”

“Right,” she affirms. “I’m proud of you.”

The two of you soak in the hot water for a few more minutes, chatting about everything and nothing at all, before Yujin complains about her wriggled fingertips. You’re just about covering up the jacuzzi, having sent your friend back inside the house ahead of you, when a patter of bare footsteps up the stairs to the deck from the beach catches your attention.

Mingyu has just climbed up from a night swim with the boys, hair drenched and tousled, water still clinging to his tan skin, shorts pressed to his strong thighs. His eyes are bright when he catches sight of you, and suddenly, you’re hyper aware of your own stare and quickly cast your gaze away.

“How’s the hot tub?” The man makes easy conversation, bending to pick up a towel from a stack that they’ve left conveniently on the deck. He roughly dries his hair, and you pointedly do not look at him as he does.

“Insanely nice,” you breathe honestly, pulling your own towel tightly around your shoulders to keep yourself concealed. “You and the boys should try it out.”

Mingyu hums in agreement, throwing his head over his shoulder to look towards the beach. Seokmin and Minghao are still chasing each other, kicking up sand as they go, voices pitched up in joy. “They don’t seem like they’ll be heading back anytime soon.” He shakes his head mirthfully.

Your stupid heart betrays you, mere minutes after you just told Yujin that you’d start trying to get over him. Defeated for now, you’re opening your mouth to bid him goodnight, when Mingyu speaks first.

“Listen,” he starts. Hesitates again. He crosses over the deck to tower right above you, standing so close that you can smell the salt on his skin. Mingyu reaches, hand resting heavy on your hip, and you’re beyond glad that your towel is wrapped tightly around your torso because if you felt his palm on your bare skin, you might have lost yourself completely.

Your breath catches, and you don’t take another, afraid that any movement will break the moment.

“I did some research,” Mingyu’s voice dips low, as if he’s sharing a secret with you. “Read somewhere that you shouldn’t mix alcohol and antidepressants, but you drank, didn’t you? The first night? That’s not good for your, Tiny.”

You freeze. This is the type of person that Mingyu is, you remind yourself. Someone whose physical touch comes as a natural instinct. Someone who notices and remembers things. Someone who looks things up out of concern.

The weight of his hand on your waist, the scent of his skin and the salt on it, the cloying uncertainty in his voice is all so dizzying that you might as well have been five drinks in now. He is your ruin, your undoing. So long as you are friends with him, you’ll never heal, you realize with dread.

Frightened, you take a few steps back, unable to look at him anymore. You manage a strangled squeak to wish him good night, before you’re all but running away.

When the next morning comes, you feign being sick, which isn’t completely a lie, since the incessant throb in your head is enough to keep you in bed. Yujin fusses over you, suggesting to call Minghao in and make him drive the three of you back to the city to take you home.

“No, no,” you insist, waving your hands up frantically. “It’s the last day that we’re here! Just enjoy yourselves without me. I think I just need to sleep in a little longer.” You even crack open your eyes to smile at her.

Yujin, thankfully, tucks you beneath the comforter tightly, leaving you with a soft kiss on the forehead and a promise that she’ll bring you back something to eat.

–

Mingyu’s very confused, and a little nervous, as his friends give him varying expressions of frustration and disbelief when he tells them that he broke up with his girlfriend a few months ago. Minghao holds his face in his hands, as if he doesn’t even want to look at him when he asks why.

He twists his lips from left to right as he ponders the question. What he told his ex were assorted excuses of “I just don’t see us being a long term thing” or “I think I just have too much on my plate right now”, but after this weekend, he’s not so sure anymore. Mingyu cautiously offers, “I don’t think she was the one. She keeps texting and calling me, though. I shouldn’t respond, but I feel so bad.”

Yujin cuts a glare at him, looking like she’s all but ready to kill him with nothing but the spoon clutched in her hand. She’s evidently a few mimosas in, and she hisses, “Kim Mingyu, you dumb, idiotic moron!”

He blinks in surprise. “Okay, you just called me stupid three different ways in one sentence.”

Seokmin sighs from beside him, poking his fork into the puddle of yolk leftover from his eggs benedict. “Well, you are pretty dumb,” is what his best friend tells him.

Mingyu pouts, a little hurt by the way his friends are treating him, especially when he just told them that he’s going through a breakup. “You guys are being mean,” he sulks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tiny wouldn’t treat me like this.”

At the sound of his nickname for you, everyone at the table looks at him, and now they’re all glaring at him. His poor little heart shrivels up in his chest, and Mingyu finally lets out a cry, “Can you guys just tell me what’s going on?”

“You have no right.” Yujin slurs angrily, jabbing her spoon in his direction. “No right to treat my girl like that!” Her voice pitches up a bit too loudly at the end, which causes patrons at the surrounding tables to turn and look. Minghao reaches to clap a palm over her mouth, using his other hand to pull her into his side and calm her down.

Seokmin, gentle soul that he is, softly mutters, “Have you ever considered that you might mean more than just a friend to her?”

Mingyu’s mind goes blank, as he falters. A million thoughts run through his head at a million miles per hour.

You’re the only one in the world who understands what it’s like to be led to the water by the ocean’s siren song. He doesn’t have to use words to explain what he feels to you, when he lets himself wander and finds himself skirting the edge of the beach, where the waves lap at his feet and pull away, leaving nothing but foam and bubbles. You’re the one who confided in him first, all those years ago, that you found the city too suffocating and heavy, that you were considering moving back to the island you were born on, despite your entire life being on the mainland. He had smiled and murmured that he wished he could do the same, and would want nothing more in life than to do that.

You, who he can always count on finding at the beach, as if magnetized to one another because your souls are made of the same stuff.

Mingyu’s breathless because his friends are right. He is a dumb, idiotic moron.

He runs back to the campgrounds ahead of his friends, all the way from town. He doesn’t bother checking your room or even going into the cabin because in his heart of hearts, he knows exactly where you are. Sure enough, he’s just coming up the small dune towards the shore when he catches sight of you, sitting with your knees tucked to your chest, head lolled to the side as you watch the water.

He can only see your back from where you are, and you look so tiny. That’s why he had started calling you it in the first place, so fond of how little you are compared to him, how your nose would inevitably scrunch up in objection whenever you heard the name.

Mingyu cannot believe how stupidly blind he’s been.

–

You hear your name being called, but your heart limps along, immune to the sudden appearance of his voice. Tightening your arms around your bent legs, you wait until Mingyu comes by to sit beside you, just like that morning you watched the sunrise together. His back rises and falls rapidly, huffing as if he’s run all the way back from town. Even when his breath settles, he doesn’t say a word, as if waiting for you to speak first.

You inhale shakily and then unload everything before you have the chance to doubt yourself.

“I can’t be friends with you anymore, Mingyu.”

The man soaks in the words, before he says plainly, “Okay. Because I can’t either.” He then leans forward, to crane his head and peer right into your face. Mingyu grins, bright as the sun. Your heart cleaves in two and you’re grasping at the remnants of your sanity to hold it together, and he’s smiling.

“–The fuck?!”

You bite your tongue to prevent hurling more expletives because this is certainly not the Kim Mingyu that you know and love.

His smile only widens, and he’s suddenly talking, words spilling from his mouth and stumbling over his lisp, “I know, by the way. I know that you love me. I know that you’re trying hard to pretend that you’re fine, when you’re not. I know I’ve been so, so stupid, and I’m sorry for that.”

Mingyu reaches across the space that he’s politely left between the two of you, one hand coming to cup your cheek, the other sweeping your hair back from your face gently. He holds and looks at you so tenderly, as if he’s scared of shattering you, and for the first time ever, you feel seen.

“What’s going on?” You manage to work out, but your voice comes out very small.

“I broke up with her months ago,” Mingyu says, as if that explains everything. “She didn’t understand who I was. But you…” A thumb delicately brushes over your cheekbone to catch a tear, and only then do you realize that you’re crying. The man’s smile crumples, and he dips to press his lips onto the top of your head, mumbling into your hair, “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You gasp for a breath, forcefully trying to swallow away the sobs. All day, as you tossed and turned in bed alone, you had been working yourself up towards ending your friendship with Mingyu once and for all, to protect whatever pieces of your heart were left.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you warble, finally holding onto him, fingers tightening around his shirt like it’s a lifeline.

Mingyu chortles, and it rumbles throughout his entire body.

“You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.”

–

“Um. What is that?”

Chan’s voice comes through, shrill and scandalized, from the other end of the line, and you can see the cogs turning in his head, as you quickly move to turn the collar of your shirt up and cover the burgeoning mark that Mingyu’s teeth have left on your skin. When Chan leaves the screen momentarily to frantically call Seungkwan over, you whip your head around to glare at Mingyu, who lounges in the armchair beside you lazily, a pleased grin curling onto his lips.

“I’m never hearing the end of this,” you mutter, just as Seungkwan enters the frame.

“What’s this about a hickey I’m hearing?” Seungkwan clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “What kind of low-grade, classless loser did you bring home with you?”

At that, Mingyu jolts up, straight as an arrow, brows furrowing. He starts whining his complaints as he comes over to your side.

You watch with amusement as the recognition of the voice registers in Seungkwan’s eyes first, then Chan’s. Then, Mingyu peeps his face into the camera. It’s actually quite comical, the way Chan and Seungkwan both slap their hands over their mouths, eyes stretching wide.

“What the–”

“–actual fuck?!”

You snicker a little, cheeks flushing as you catch sight of the little window on the phone screen that mirrors back your face pressed against Mingyu’s. He must notice it too because he catches your eye through the screen and leans in to smile against your mouth. A cacophony of groans and gags come from Chan and Seungkwan, but your heart swells, tight with love and affection.

bonus:

“Can’t believe I got called a ‘low-grade, classless loser’,” Mingyu mutters, laving his tongue over the mark on your throat. “Could a loser do this?” His voice drops low and raspy, deep inside of his chest, as his hands dip beneath your shirt and his fingers leave sinful trails along your stomach. As soon as Seungkwan and Chan had hung up the call, Mingyu had immediately pulled you onto the armchair, pinning you into the seat with his weight, knees pressed into the cushions on either side of your thighs.

You squirm, throwing your head back against the armchair in an attempt to create some space, but Mingyu just follows. His hooded gaze burns bright with affection, with desire, as he peers up at you.

Good lord, those eyes of his.

“H-Hey,” you stutter out when you feel the drag of his teeth against your clavicle, the sharp bite of his pointy canines. “Hey,” you repeat, pressing your hands firmly against his shoulders to push him back. “We never talked about the emoji.”

Mingyu’s half-listening, you can tell. He pretends that he’s looking at you, but he can barely meet your eyes, gaze dipping lower to your lips and then your throat. A tongue peeks out from the corner of his mouth, just before he’s trying to lean back in.

You scowl, threading your fingers through the soft hair at the back of his skull and tugging to pin him in place. Head forced back, Mingyu finally focuses, chest heaving. A soft whine catches in his throat and the tips of his ears flare bright red, and you would find it endearing if you weren’t trying to get answers.

“Baby,” he purrs. “That was so hot.”

“Down, boy.” You roll your eyes, loosening your grip on his hair. “The emoji. Explain it.”

“What emoji?”

“The heart emoji, next to your ex’s name in your phone.”

Mingyu pulls his brows together in thought, before he nibbles at his bottom lip sheepishly. “Okay, you’re not gonna like the answer.”

Your stomach turns uneasily, but you shrug anyway. “Tell me.”

The man sighs. “She’s the one who put it there in the first place, and I honestly, swear on my life, forgot that it was there. But she’s since been blocked and deleted!”

You narrow your eyes, contemplating his words. “Hm,” you say, watching Mingyu squirm under your scrutiny.

“Can I show you what you’re saved as in my contacts? Maybe it’ll make up for it.”

You nod, waiting as he taps at his phone to pull it up. When he turns the screen around to show you, and your gaze focuses on “the littlest tiny” with five blue hearts next to it, you can’t decide if you should kick him or kiss him.

Balking at your silence and lack of reaction, Mingyu pushes himself off of the chair to fall to his knees at your feet. He clasps his hands together and places them in your lap, eyes wide and shining with remorse. “I’m sorry,” he whines pitifully. “It was a joke, I promise!”

You regard him coolly, thoroughly enjoying the way his bottom lip quivers into a pout. Before you can stop yourself, you’re pressing a thumb against the seam of his mouth, watching with acute interest as it parts and his tongue, warm and soft, peeks out to meet the pad of your finger. The image sends your stomach tumbling.

“I love you,” Mingyu mumbles, extending an olive branch. “Only you, baby.”

You bite. “Prove it.”

You barely catch the glimpse of the smirk curling across Mingyu’s lips, before his strong arms lift you up and out of the armchair, into his chest, and towards your bedroom.

#seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu fic #svt fluff #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt x you #mingumis #fic: waves of you #heunie writes

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obsesssedblerd · 10 months ago

Text

oh, the idea of satoru attempting to get his hands on you numerous times throughout the day but keeps getting interrupted (bc y’know, he’s a busy sorcerer) and then finally snapping because he’s so pent up that he can’t think about anything other than fucking you makes me giggle.

smut under the cut. MDNI. also, barely proof-read so sorry for mistakes lol.

----

You squeal with excitement when you hear the door to the apartment unlock. Satoru was home. Finally, he was back after spending two weeks away on business. The moment you see just a glimpse of his white hair, you rush towards him and wrap him in a tight hug, him lowering his Infinity just in time to scoop you off of your feet. You're hit with the scent of his cologne, the feel of his soft hair underneath your fingers, and you sigh in relief. Finally.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he greets with his usual smirk as your legs wrap around his waist. “Miss me?”

He kisses you before you can respond, so you settle for humming into his mouth. He walks you both over to the living room, gently setting you on the couch before climbing on top of you. Your hands fumble with his jacket, and he helps you out by taking it off. He breaks away from your mouth to start doting messy kisses down your neck and collarbone. “Mmm, fuck. Missed you too,” he says, his voice deep with lust. “Been wanting this for so long, baby.”

His phone vibrates, and he ignores it, deciding to focus on pulling your shirt up instead. When it continuously vibrates with multiple calls, he sighs irritatedly and pulls it from his pocket to see Yaga’s name on the screen.

You giggle from underneath him, pulling your shirt back down and sitting up. “I think you should get that.”

“This isn’t over,” he promises. He gets up and answers the phone, holding it up to his ear. “This better be important. …Huh?! I just got back from a mission, what the hell do you mean the higher-ups want to talk?!”

— — — —

“Alright, you all. That’s it for today,” you conclude your lesson with a clap, and the second years begin to gather their things. “Geto will meet you all in the field so you can have a lesson that’s a bit more active. Have fun!”

They all express their excitement, then make their way outside of the classroom. They pass Satoru on the way out, who had just arrived only a few minutes before the end of your lesson. “Yeah, yeah, what she said. Hey, Okkotsu!”

“Yes?” Yuta calls back.

“Remember to—”

“Work on that cursed energy control. Yeah, I got it,” the boy groans.

You shake your head with a tiny laugh as Satoru shuts the door to the classroom. “I swear, Yuta is trying his best. He’s— Whoa!”

Your back suddenly hits the wall, and Satoru is in front of you. His blindfold is raised, and you see the utter hunger pooling in his blue eyes before he’s kissing you, similar to the way he did that morning. You moan into his mouth, and your arms come up to wrap around his neck. “Mmm, fuck. T-Toru, we’re—”

“Shhhhh,” he hushes against your lips. “Didn’t I tell you that this wasn’t over?” His hand begins to trail further down your body, eager fingers hurriedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Just try to be as quiet as possible, baby. I’ll be quick. Gonna make you feel so good—”

He’s cut off with a knock at the door. “Gojo, are you in here?”

Nanami.

“Busy!” He yells, a bit on the harsher side.

“You’re with [Y/L/N] right now. Her lesson with the second years just ended. You do know that around this time, you’re supposed to be training the first years, right?”

Satoru looks at the clock at the wall, then winces. It’s true, but still, he desperately needed you, otherwise he thought that he’d explode. “Just tell them I’m—”

“Can’t. They’re right here with me,” Kento says flatly. “They’ve been waiting for at least half an hour.”

You hear Yuuji’s excited voice next. “Hey, Gojo-sensei! How was your mission?!”

“Itadori, no need to shout. Seriously, we’re all right here,” Megumi grumbles.

“I’m with Fushiguro on this one,” Nobara comments.

Satoru groans into your shoulder, and his fist hits the wall. Unable to take his strength, it caves, leaving a nice-sized hole next to the chalkboard. You stifle a laugh. Thank goodness that this wasn’t your classroom and you were only borrowing it.

He inhales sharply, then masks his annoyance and sexual frustration with a smile. “Alright! Be out in a second!” He calls out to them.

He sees you laughing into your hand, and he leans forward to whisper in your ear, “Just wait ‘till later.”

— — — —

‘Later’ was far later than Satoru had hoped. After training the first years, Yaga talked to him about the next exchange event and how they were behind on planning, and then he had to shadow the second years on a mission that lasted what felt like forever.

You’re back in the apartment, humming as you finish tidying up the living room. You grab the basket of laundry, sit down, and begin folding towels. It was close to eight in the evening. You’re about to grab your phone to check on Satoru when you hear the door opening.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think that I’d have to come and help out,” you say without looking up. “I mean, yeah, the curse was lower-ranked, but sometimes the second years—” You cut yourself off with a surprised scream as Satoru effortlessly hoists you with one arm, puts you over his shoulder and walks in the direction of your bedroom. Once you’re in there, he lightly tosses you on the bed, then yanks off his blindfold. His eyes are dark with a mixture of the hunger you saw earlier, and frustration.

“No more bullshit,” he says as he climbs over you, gathering your wrists and pinning them above your head. “If someone else interrupts, I might just hollow purple them.” When he kisses you, it’s far more intense than he’s ever kissed you today. His tongue explores your mouth, and you moan from the dizzying, yet pleasurable sensation. It’s not long before you’re both panting. His hands grip your shirt, and the sound of fabric tearing fills your ears. You gasp, your mouth falling open in shock when the scraps of your shirt as well as your bra are tossed aside.

Satoru is breathing hard above you, nearly drooling as he stares at your upper body, his white hair beautifully framing his face. He dives in and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off of the bed when you feel his tongue swirl around the sensitive bud, and you whine his name needily. He moans, alternating between using his teeth to leave gentle love bites on your tits and using his tongue on your nipples. It’s messy, greedy, and you don’t ever want it to stop.

Finally, he kisses further down your stomach, pulling down your leggings along with your panties and tossing them to the bedroom floor. He spreads your thighs, then licks a long stripe up your pussy, a loud, shameless groan of relief escaping him when he finally tastes you. “Oh, fuck, I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he sighs, and he smiles devilishly up at you as he readjusts his hold on your thighs. “Think this pussy missed me just as much, if not more. She’s fucking soaked.”

He only gives you a split second to take a breath to prepare yourself, then he’s devouring you as if he were poisoned and the antidote was inside of your pussy. His tongue swipes expertly across your folds, then it flicks against your clit. You bury your hands into your hair as pleasure zips through your body, the rest of the world fading away until all that’s left is you and Satoru. “Toru- Ohhhhh shit, baby. Fuck-” You gasp desperately when he gently sucks your clit into his mouth. He’s moaning loudly, drunk off of the taste of your pussy and from the feeling of you pulling his hair.

You grind your hips against his face when you feel a knot beginning to form in your lower stomach, your breath stuttering as it tightens. You knew that this orgasm was going to blow any orgasm you gave yourself during the last two weeks while he was away on business completely out of the water. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you manage to tell him in between pants. “Oh, god, Toru, right there, right there, right there-” You feel your body begin to clench, ready to release.

But then, Satoru stops.

You whine frustratedly as your orgasm fades away before you could reach it, looking down at your boyfriend in between your thighs, who’s smiling deviously. “That was for laughing at me earlier,” he says after licking the rest of your juices off of his lips. “Not so funny now, is it?””

On a normal day, you’d be stubborn and attempt to piss him off, but today was different. Your head rests on the pillow, and your chest rises and falls with every pant, groaning in defeat. “Satoru, please,” you beg, keeping your voice as low as possible so he doesn’t hear the utter desperation.

Satoru feigns confusion, and you see the pure delight in his eyes. Little shit. “Sorry, baby, what was that?” he asks.

“Please,” you repeat louder. “Make me cum.”

He hums as he pulls off his shirt. “I’ll think about it.” He stands up, and you sit up to help him with his pants, eager to taste him and take his cock down your throat. You pull his underwear down, and he stops you when he catches onto what you’re doing. “Another time, baby. Right now, I just really need to fuck you.” He kisses you once, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. “It’s been too long. Lay back.”

You lie back on the mattress, and he grabs your legs to gently pull you towards the edge of the bed, then places them on his shoulders. He slides his cock in, and the both of you moan in relief. Satoru doesn’t waste any time and starts fucking you fast, which you two needed. Being separated for two weeks on top of the usual stress of missions and teaching was horrible for you both. “Ohhhh, fuck,” Satoru moans loudly, not caring if anyone else heard, his eyes practically rolling into his head from the pleasure. “Shit, baby, you feel so fucking good.”

He slows the speed of his thrusts, but intensifies them by going harder, the salacious sounds of his hips meeting yours filling the room. Satoru looks down at you, taking in the o-shape of your mouth, your closed eyes and the way you're gripping the bedsheets as you whimper his name. He has to bite the inside of his mouth so he doesn’t cum too quickly.

“Sat- Satoru,” you moan out deliriously as you open your eyes, gasping when his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. “Fuck, you’re- Ah- so deep.” Tears blur your vision, and your boyfriend chuckles as he leans down closer to you, his thrusts relentless. Satoru kisses your cheek, then uses a thumb to wipe away a tear.

“Aw,” he coos condescendingly into your ear. “You cryin’?”

Your nails drag down his back, and he reaches in between where your bodies are connected to rub gentle circles on your clit. You feel that knot begin to form again, far more intense than before since you were edged earlier. “F-Fuck, Toru, I-” You’re cut off when his mouth meets yours for another messy kiss. He continues rubbing your clit, and you whimper behind his lips. He groans when your pussy begins to tighten around his cock. You grip his shoulders to steady yourself as your breathing begins to come out in short bursts.

“Let go, baby, it’s okay,” Satoru purrs into your ear. “Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

Your legs tense, your toes curl, and stars fill your vision as your orgasm takes you by force. You’re screaming his name as your body trembles, and Satoru murmurs encouragement into your ear as he fucks you through it. “Thaaaat’s it, pretty girl,” you hear, then he groans, also so close to finishing, his thrusts growing sloppy. “Fuck, baby...”

Though you’re dizzy from your orgasm, you muster enough focus to kiss him. You stroke his face, lovingly run a hand through his hair, then wrap your legs around his waist to bring him in even closer, encouraging him to give everything to you. You wanted him to cum—needed him to. The kiss and the faint pulsing of your pussy pushes him over the edge, and Satoru moans loudly into your mouth as he stills, spilling his thick load deep within you and coating your walls. He cums hard, his grip on you tightening as he breathes heavily. Finally, he collapses, but is careful not to crush you with his weight.

Both of you are silent for a moment, remaining with each other as you mellow in the aftershocks of your orgasms. “Shit,” Satoru breathes out with a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. I thought I blacked out for a second.”

You laugh with him, then press a kiss to his forehead. “Welcome home.”

“Happy to be back. Missed you like crazy. Can’t believe I had to wait all day for that.”

“Missed you too, and same here, but you gotta admit, it was funny.”

Satoru tenderly smiles down at you, and your heart stutters at the sight of it. You were always weak for that specific smile. “It was, but, uh… you wanna know something else that might be funny?”

“Hm?”

“We broke the bed.”

“....What?”

----

a/n: I just had to add "the" line lol. I couldn't resist.

#jjk x reader smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #satoru smut #satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #written by rey <3 #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #my writing #gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo imagine #satoru imagine #sorry y'all I was horknee af

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darnell-la · 8 months ago

Note

just imagine logan as a lone wolf who lives in a cabin in the middle of the forest and maybe the reader is just an ordinary girl (maybe shes a farmer or a gardener) that lives behind the forest and she needs to cross the path along the forest every day to go home, it goes down to rain and she gets lost, and finds logans cabin.

Then she looks at logan for the first time and its just love at first sight.

Well maybe lust, but also love.

note: Logan lives far from civilization in this story, so you can imagine when a young lady, the only person he sees daily, accidentally steps too far into his property wet and dirty. He can’t help but invite her in and pray for the best.

———

Y/n had been running through the woods for what felt like hours, eyes constantly getting rain in them as her shoes soaked. She could barely feel her feet, and her clothes were drenched.

“Oh my god,” y/n said, coming across Mister Howlett’s house, a man she’d never seen but had heard of. One part of her was happy seeing the house, knowing she had gone the right way, but the other half still hurt her head. She has ten or so minutes of running and no walking.

Y/n walked in front of the house, about to pass until an alarm went off, almost scaring her out of her shoes.

Lights flashed on the young lady as she heard rustling coming from inside the house. “Goddamnit,” she cussed under her breath, realizing she had stepped too far into the man’s property. She never does, but it’s raining hard tonight, and she can barely see.

“Who the fuck is on my property!?” A man asked, voice sounding a bit different than an average male. “I-I’m sorry, I-I always walk this way, I just walked a bit too far into the grass. I-It’s raining heavy out here,” she said, loud enough for him to hear her over the rain.

Logan walked past the frame of his front door, revealing the shotgun he had in hand. At first, she was terrified, but her mind instantly forgot about the weapon in his hands as her eyes scanned the rest of his body.

“I see,” the man said, scanning the young lady. He wore thick blue jeans, with a beat-up heavy belt, and his tank top was white and dirty. Y/n on the other hand had an amazing outfit. A fluffy skirt with an uptight crop top.

Of course, all of it was drenched, but the man had seen how good she looked earlier today, like every day. He never gets a good look at her, but the consistency of her going to work or whatever she did every day, seemed to rub Logan the right way.

“C’mon in — Let the weather cool down a bit,” Logan suggested, tone still unfriendly, but she understood she could’ve woken him up. “Oh, uh- Thank you,” she said as she approached his doorstep.

Once the two met eyes, it was almost like everything from then was in slow motion. The way they blinked, how slow they stepped, when he talked, telling her to take her shoes off for him to dry, and when he locked his front door.

“So — What do you do exactly?” Y/n asked as she shifted on his couch to look at him who was at the end of the same couch she was sitting on. He never sits on the long couch, but tonight, he felt like it.

“Chop wood, give to the community, fix up the land, and cook,” he said before taking a sip of the whiskey he had poured and offered her, but she told him she wasn’t a drinker.

“Sounds like a lot of work,” she said, making him chuckle. “Maybe for you, princess,” the man said with a look over his reading glasses before he looked back down at the newspaper he was reading.

“I work hard — Just in other ways,” she smiled. “And what is it you do, Bub?” The man asked, now placing the newspaper down to listen. He was interested. He didn’t know why, but he was.

“I write online books and sell clothes. These! I made myself. Hope I can dry them without it messing up,” she said as she tugged on her clothes. “You made that?” He asked, slightly surprised.

“Mhm hm — Took a while, but I got through,” she smiled. “Maybe I can dry it. I mean, I don’t think the rain’s gonna slow down anytime soon, so you can just stay here until they air dry in my basement,” he offered.

“You can take my bed. It’s clean, and my room has a lock if it makes you uncomfortable that a man’s in the house,”

Y/n stayed silent, thinking to herself. It didn’t seem like too much of a bad idea. She didn’t know the man, but he was a neighbor. She passes his house all the time, and she’s sure he’s seen her before.

“I’ll stay,” she said, making Logan huff out a breath he didn’t know he was keeping in. “Let’s head upstairs. It’s late, and I was going to close up down here anyway,”

Logan had shown y/n to his room, telling her she could make herself at home as he pulled out a shirt she could wear to bed.

“When you wake up, I’ll have your clothes in front of the door, alright?” He asked. “Okay, uh- I know I’m asking for a lot now, but is it possible to take a shower?” She asked.

Logan looked at her body, almost forgetting she wasn’t clean. Her legs had mud in them, her skin was wet, and her hair had branches in leaves in them. He had ignored all of that before. He hadn’t cared what she looked like. She looked pretty no matter what.

“Of course,” the man said before he went into his closet to grab a towel. “You can use my bedroom bathroom. It’s clean too,” he said, making sure she didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you for this all. I’ll repay you someday,” she looked up at him as he gave her a towel. “You don’t have to. I would never leave a pretty girl in the dark,” y/n giggled at his response, happy she knew he thought she was pretty.

“Hey, Bub, I almost forgot to give you some soap. Those in there are a bit strong smellin, so I’ve got some normal scents for ya,”

Logan knocked on the door bathroom door a few minutes after the had started the shower. “Oh my, thank you!” Y/n said as she hopped out of the tub and slightly opened the door, covering anything that could be seen.

“Of course, princ-“ the man had cut himself off as he looked behind her, seeing her figure in the mirror. “What's wrong?” Y/n asked as she followed his eyes, looking behind him before she let out a scream.

“Oh my god!” The main tried covering herself up as the door slowly opened. Logan wanted to look away, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the younger woman.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Y/n said, covering as much as she could as she looked up at him. “It ain’t like Ian seen a naked woman before, Bub,” Logan said. Y/n let out a sigh, knowing a man who looked like him had definitely seen enough naked women to not feel disgusted or anything by her.

“Okay, okay,” she caught her breath, still covering herself up as Logan stood in the door frame, scanning her body. Her wet skin which wasn’t completely clean yet, made him feel a type of way. She made him feel a type of way, but he wanted to be respectful.

“I’ll leave you to it, princess,” Logan said before he went to turn around, but y/n stopped him. “Wait!” She said. “I-I need the soap,” she spoke low, making him realize he never exchanged it with her.

“Oh, shit- Yeah, yeah,” Logan said as he handed the bottle to the young lady. Y/n grabbed it, pulling at it so she could take a shower and ignore how embarrassed he was, but he kept a grip on the bottle.

He had no idea what he was doing, but he wanted to see what she would do.

“Is something wrong, Mister Howlett?” She asked. He loved the way his name rolled off of her lips. He never thought he’d love his last name more. What was this random girl doing to him?

“Yeah, it’s just- I don’t know,” he said, making her smile slightly. “I-If you wanna join me, you can. You know, to save water?” She suggested, surprising the man. She even surprised herself.

“You sure, Bub?” The man wanted to make sure he hadn’t been dreaming all night. “Yes-“ Before she could finish, the man threw the soap bottle to the side, grabbed the woman by her face, and pulled her into a rough passionate kiss, making sure his tongue slipped right in.

Y/n instantly maimed in his mouth at the aggression. He gave back a groan as he picked her up and placed her on the wooden sink counter.

Logan ripped his white tank top off before pulling his jeans down, revealing the hard-on he had since he saw her outside in the rain.

“Got me so fuckin’ hard, Bub. Don’t know why,” he said, making her giggle. “Maybe because I’m pretty?” She suggested, making him laugh. “That’s definitely one reason, Bub,”

Logan spat on his fingers before wiping the across her cunt which was already leaking. “Fuck,” y/n cussed under her breath as her body hitched.

“Mhm, potty mouth,” she said with a smile before he licked his fingers, tasting the mess he had just wiped across. “Fuck, you taste good,”

Logan put his cock in hand before lining up. When he pushed at her entrance, she instantly tightened around him. “Fuck,” Logan groaned, hands gripping the sides of her ass to pull her into him.

“Oh my god,” y/n cried out as his length buried inside of her completely. “Fuck, yes,” the man huffed out as he rested his head on her shoulder. “Ian gonna last,” he admitted, slightly embarrassed, but she loved it.

“Good — Makes me know you like me back,” she said. The man chuckled against her skin, moving his face until his slips were on her neck. “You gonna take it all?” He asked, kissing along her neck with a few nibbles.

“Yes, Mister Howlett,” she said. “C’mon, Bub — Ian that old,” he chuckled as he moved his hips, slowly thrusting into the woman to take in his good or felt, the way she gripped him.

“I like them old,” she admitted. “Oh, really? Is that why you’re so wet right now? Because you’re working my cock so fuckin’ much,” the man said in her ear, making her whine.

“Yes — Yes, that's why,” she admitted again. “Well luckin’ me,” Logan snapped his hips, getting ready to spill deep into her.

“P-Please cum in me,” she begged as she wrapped her legs around his waist, making sure he knew she really wanted it. She needed it.

“Wasn’t gonna do it any else were, Bub,”

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vunblr · 3 months ago

Text

Retribution (Blue-collar Bucky #3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Borderline non-con elements. Brat-taming. Power Play. Overstimulation. Edging. Mild Bondage. Unprotected Sex. Breeding Kink if you squint. Degradation. Light Impact Play.

Summary: Bucky crossed the line first, and she pushed back harder. Now, payback comes with fogged-up windows in a rocking van.

Word Count: 6.5k.

note: Another issue of filthy filth.

Bucky sat in the van’s driver’s seat, tapping his thumbs against the worn leather of the steering wheel, and biting his bottom lip.

Was this a good idea?

Probably not.

But fuck it.

His boss barely questioned him anymore, not when he was the best worker on-site, handling five times the workload of anyone else with half the complaints. If the foreman found out one of the company vans was missing for a few hours?

Bucky would just say he needed it to attend to… an emergency.

Yeah. That’d work.

He rolled his shoulders, stretching his fingers against the wheel as his heartbeat picked up, a slow, thump of anticipation. Then, across the street, the bakery lights flickered off.

His pulse jumped.

There she was.

Stepping out, locking the door, blissfully unaware of what was coming for her. Bucky grinned, slow and sharp, as he reached for the keys.

Payback time, Muffin.

-----

The van door slid open silently, and a shadow moved in the dim light of the streetlamp.

She didn’t hear a thing.

Didn’t sense the presence behind her as the bakery’s metal shutters locked tight behind her.

Didn’t have time to react before a strong, cold hand clamped over her mouth.

Her muffled gasp barely made it past his palm before she was weightless, swept clean off her feet in one smooth motion. Bucky’s vibranium arm curled tight around her waist, pulling her flush against his solid chest, holding her with effortless control. Her feet dangled off the ground, her body pinned against his as he strode straight into the van’s dark interior.

The door slid shut behind them with a heavy thud.

No one noticed. The few people still lingering on the street barely glanced their way, wrapped up in their own worlds.

Bucky let out a low chuckle, brushing his lips to the shell of her ear as he finally uncovered her mouth, trailing his fingers down to her throat, teasing. “Shhh, sweetheart,” he murmured, in a silky, amused voice.

Her breath was sharp, chest rising and falling fast against him, but he felt it—the way her body melted just a little, the way her nails curled into his shirt instead of pushing away when she recognized the voice.

His grip loosened, just slightly, stroking her pulse with his thumb.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you get away with that, did you?”

Her breath hitched, then she scowled and delivered a sharp slap to his shoulder. Bucky barely flinched.

“You scared me to death!” she huffed, clearly unimpressed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He just grinned, teeth flashing in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong with me, Muffin,” he purred, on her ear. “If anything-” With a quick, practiced motion, he pulled a plastic zip tie from his pocket, looping it around her wrists with ease, “I haven’t felt this... invigorated in years.”

The soft rasp of the plastic locking into place sent a thrill down his spine, as his fingers tested the bind: not tight enough to bruise, but just enough to keep her still.

Her eyes widened.

“What-”

“As you see, I’m being considerate,” he cut in smoothly, quirking a brow. “No taser here.”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a mocking whisper near her ear.

“Just ol’ reliable tools.”

She let out a sharp breath, but instead of the reaction he expected -fear, doubt- her eyes dropped lower.

And then, she smirked.

“Is this supposed to scare me?” she challenged.

Her gaze flicked to his lap -to the obvious tent in his jeans- and when she looked back up at him, her smirk had only widened.

“Because I can see you are already a little excited under your pants, Sarge.”

Damn woman.

Bucky wasn’t about to let her get in his head.

Not after what she pulled.

He needed to teach her a lesson.

His grip on her bound wrists tightened, just slightly, as he tilted his head, watching her with lazy amusement.

“You know, Muffin, you surprised me the other day,” he mused, “Didn’t take you for such a fierce little thing.” His fingers trailed down the column of her throat, feeling the way her pulse jumped beneath his touch. “Still,” he continued, chuckling dryly, “I should’ve known... since no woman in her right mind wants to deal with me.”

And there it was.

That self-deprecating tone, creeping in like a bad habit.

She hated that. Hated how he couldn’t see what she saw in him.

“Bucky-”

“No.” His grip on her tightened slightly. “As you told me the last time, you don’t get to talk unless I say so.”

She stilled, slightly narrowing her eyes.

Then, unbothered, he started rummaging through a nearby blue bag, fishing out exactly what he needed. When he turned back, he was holding a gag. A soft, pink silicone ball strapped to black leather.

Her brows shot up. “Really? Of all the th-”

She didn’t get to finish.

With a swift movement, he slid the gag into place, gently coaxing her mouth open with his fingers. The ball slipped between her teeth, filling the space perfectly, silencing whatever smartass remark she was about to make.

Bucky fastened the buckle at the back of her head, ensuring it was snug, but not too tight. Then, with the audacity of a man who was enjoying this way too much, he tapped his fingers against the ball nestled between her lips. “I put some strawberry flavoring on it.” His smirk widened. “Thought it was a nice touch.”

She rolled her eyes, mumbling something against the gag, a muffled protest, no doubt, but it was useless now.

He just grinned, dragging a finger leisurely down the exposed skin of her throat. “Where were we?” he mused, as if he didn’t already know. “Oh, right. That little stunt you pulled on me at the community center.” His tone was mocking, but there was something else beneath it, something sharper, something that still itched at his pride.

“I’ll admit,” he continued, playing with the buttons of her blouse, teasing them open one by one, “that I pushed our boundaries a little too much.” Then he leaned in, dropping his voice to a dangerous murmur. “But what you did?”

His grip tightened on the fabric, and with one sharp tug, the blouse ripped open, with the remaining buttons snapping off, scattering across the van’s floor.

Her eyes widened.

Bucky just clicked his tongue.

“Tsk, tsk.” He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “What exactly did you think was gonna happen next, hmm?” He asked, running the back of his knuckles over the newly exposed skin, feeling her shiver.

“Didn’t think I’d just take it like some pansy, did you?” His lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk. “Newsflash, Muffin-”

His hands gripped her waist, pressing his thumbs deep into her soft flesh as if reminding her exactly who she was dealing with.

“I’m not.”

His masculine pride still stung, his ego bruised. Not just because of what she’d done, but because of what it had made him feel. Bucky Barnes had been raised in the Depression and had spent his early years scraping by, learning that a man was supposed to provide, protect, and endure.

Then came the war, the military, the title of Sergeant, men at his charge, and then, of course, the fall. Everything had been taken from him.

And for one humiliating, aching night, she had taken his control again. And fuck if he was going to let that stand.

----

Bucky shifted her body, positioning her against a makeshift nest of blankets he’d thrown in the back of the van.

She landed with a soft thud, brow quirking as she took in the setup, a silent, unimpressed ‘how thoughtful’ written all over her face.

His smirk widened. As if reading her mind, he shrugged. “Just the best for my girl.”

Her breath hitched, but she forced herself not to react to it. Just tucked that little piece of information into a dark corner of her mind, to pull out and examine later.

Before she could dwell on it, he was moving again.

Strong hands gripped her wrists, guiding them above her head, and hooked the plastic restraint to the iron framework of the back doors. Then, without warning, without preamble, he tore her bra clean in half. The fabric gave way instantly, a sharp, satisfying sound, another casualty to his inhuman strength.

Her muffled protest was immediate, but Bucky just tilted his head, feigning confusion. “What? You tryna say something, Muffin?”

He ran a slow, teasing finger down her now bare, perfect tits, watching the way her nipples tightened under his touch. “Ohhh, I get it,” he drawled, dragging his thumb over one peaked bud, just light enough to tease, not enough to satisfy. “You’re thanking me. No need for all that, sweetheart. This is a service.”

Her glare was priceless.

He just grinned, dropping his eyes to the swell of her breasts, appreciating them openly, hungrily, like he had all the time in the world. “Fuck, I love these.”

His hands cupped them, and tested their weight, flicking his thumbs lazily over her nipples before rolling them between calloused fingers. “You know what really gets me going?” His voice dipped. “This damn apron you wear on Wednesdays.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, confused at first. Then, she gazed at the piece of cloth on the van’s floor, peeking from her tote bag. The discount apron. The too-tight, slightly shrunken one that pulled just a little too snug over her chest.

Bucky let out a low, wicked chuckle. “Fuckin’ thing should be illegal.”

He pinched both nipples at once, harder this time, savoring the way her thighs twitched, the way her breath hitched just enough to tell on her. Then, his eyes flicked around the van, scanning for anything useful.

There.

A roll of measuring tape lay tossed near the passenger seat, with an old pencil tucked beside it. His smirk returned, slow and dangerous.

Grabbing the measuring tape, he looped it around the base of her breast, tightening just enough to squeeze, just enough to make her feel it.

He leaned down, his mouth a breath away from the other peak, voice low, dangerous, and unbearably smug.

“Bet you’re dying to know what I’m gonna do next.”

Bucky pulled the measuring tape tighter, watching the way her breast swelled slightly against the pressure.

“Would you look at that, Muffin?” he murmured, dragging the edge of his thumb over her straining nipple, deliberately ignoring the other one, the one waiting for his mouth. He let the measuring tape hang loose, just enough to remind her it was there, then reached for the pencil.

"Hold still."

She tensed in anticipation, as he dragged the pencil’s blunt end across her skin, tracing invisible shapes, leaving nothing but tingles on her skin. “Gotta make some calculations.” His voice was too smooth, too casual as if he weren’t about to ruin her. The eraser tip circled her nipple, teasingly slow.

Then, flick.

She shuddered, the sharp little smack made her body jolt.

Bucky smirked.

“Oh, you liked that?” He flicked again, this time using his fingers instead, watching with rapt attention as the peak stiffened even more, flushed, sensitive, swollen.

His other hand, still gripping the measuring tape, tugged just enough to add more pressure, making her hyper-aware of every touch.

“Thought you were the one teaching lessons, sweetheart,” he mused, before finally -finally- closing his mouth around the other bud.

She gasped against the gag, head tipping back, the contrast of wet heat and cool restriction making her arch into his mouth.

Bucky hummed, sucking deeply, feeling the way her hips rolled instinctively, chasing friction. He pulled off with a lewd pop. “I think we need more research.”

His fingers tightened on the tape.

“You up for that, Muffin?”

-----

He took a moment to admire his handiwork.

Her nipples were pert, swollen, and sensitive from his teasing and the faint indentations of the measuring tape still lingered on her soft skin. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, but it was the way she looked at him -that half-lidded, needy, utterly ruined expression- that nearly sent him over the edge right then and there.

Fuck.

He should’ve jerked off before this.

He knew that.

But oh no. He wanted to stuff her good when the time came, wanted her tight, soaked, and squirming for him.

His fingers twitched as he reached for the clasp of her skirt, peeling the fabric down her thighs, exposing more and more of her skin until it pooled uselessly at her ankles.

And then-

His brain stalled.

Because there they were.

Her panties.

White cotton. Little red apples sprayed across the fabric.

Ridiculous. Innocent. Completely obscene.

Something about the contrast, the sweetness clashing against the absolute filth of their situation, sent a sharp, possessive jolt straight to his cock.

Bucky dragged his thumb over the fabric, pressing against the damp patch already waiting there, and his voice came out low, rough, almost breathless.

“Muffin.”

A slow grin spread across his face as he let his thumb press a little firmer, just enough to make her squirm.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

She let out a muffled whimper behind the gag, and her body tensed, trying to press her thighs together. But he was already there, with his hand between them, keeping her open.

He chuckled, full of satisfaction. “Ohh, what’s that, sweetheart?” He tilted his head, mockingly sympathetic. “You have somethin’ to say?”

Her eyes burned into him, as her brows furrowed like she wanted to snap back, but all that came out was a pathetic little sound, breathy and needy.

Bucky groaned, rubbing his fingers in slow, lazy circles over the wet patch, watching her squirm. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

The cotton was ruined, sticky, and transparent, clinging to her pussy like a second skin. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he let his fingers explore tracing the soaked fabric, finding her clit through the flimsy material, pressing just enough to make her thighs tremble.

A slow smirk curled across his lips as he pinched the fabric again, tugging it against her swollen clit just to watch her jump. “Walkin’ around in these cute little panties like you’re all sweet and innocent.” He clicked his tongue. “Look at you now. Fuckin’ desperate for some.” He dragged his knuckles over the damp cotton, with voice laced with condescension. “You like this, don’t you? Gettin’ all sloppy in these little girl panties while I wreck you.” Her breath hitched, and her fingers flexed uselessly in the restraints. He just grinned. “Should make you wear ‘em every time I fuck you stupid.” He stated, as his fingers continued their slow, torturous teasing over the soaked fabric, relishing the way she twitched, helplessly bound and at his mercy.

“You know, maybe you’re unaware,” he mused with a certain arrogance, “But my strength is not the only thing I have enhanced.” His fingers stroked, pressed, and toyed. “All my senses are.”

She let out a muffled, shaky exhale, as her chest rose and fell too fast, her body betraying her completely. He smirked, dragging his nose along her throat, inhaling deeply, making a show of it.

“I can fucking smell you.”

His words sent a violent shudder through her body, and fuck, that did something to him.

“Even when you’re meters away, Muffin, I can smell your needy little pussy, beggin’ for it.” He mumbled, as his teeth scraped the shell of her ear, and his fingers found her clit again, tugging sharply at the soaked fabric until she let out a muffled cry, jerking her hips.

His cock throbbed painfully at her reaction.

“Imagine it now, sweetheart.” His voice was thick, almost reverent, almost ruined. “So close.” He rolled his hips against her thigh, letting her feel just how hard she made him, just how much her body was driving him insane.

His fingers curled, gripping the panties cruelly, pulling them tight, rubbing the soaked cotton directly against her swollen clit.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmured, watching her tense, writhe, gasp behind the gag. “Look at you. Squirming. Dripping.” He chuckled darkly. “Not so fun when it’s you, huh?” he mocked, trailing his fingers over her slick folds without giving her anything more than a tease.

Her muffled whimper sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock again, but he held himself back. Barely.

Then finally, he hooked his fingers into the soaked underwear, tearing it down her thighs, exposing her completely and he couldn’t suppress a groan.

Her slickness glistened in the dim light, coating her pussy and her bare thighs. She was so fucking ready, so perfect… but she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

Not yet.

Bucky dragged his fingers through her naked folds, barely pressing where she needed him, spreading her open, watching how her little hole clenched around nothing.

She whined, trying to close her legs but he pinned them apart, smirking as she struggled.

“Oh, no.” His tone was mocking, taunting, laced with dark amusement. “You remember how you left me, Muffin?”

His fingers finally found her clit, but instead of stroking, he tapped it.

Once. Twice.

Then, a sharp little slap against the over-sensitive bundle of nerves.

Her body jerked. A muffled cry left her throat.

“Made me sob for it. Left me in a fucking puddle, dripping all over the goddamn floor.” His fingers dragged through her wetness again, spreading it messily, but never giving her the pressure she so badly needed.

“Feels like torture, isn’t it?” he murmured, grinning against her inner thigh. “Imagine how I felt, sweetheart.”

His tongue flicked out, barely touching her clit, just a whisper of contact before he pulled back again. “Dripping. Desperate. Aching. And you just-” His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing lightly, keeping her on edge. “-kept pushing.”

His fingers circled her entrance, dipping in just enough to tease, to give her hope, before pulling away completely, before bringing them up to his mouth.

“I should leave you like this. Tied up. Soaked. Helpless.” Bucky’s voice was a slow, cruel, laced with mocking satisfaction as he watched her squirm beneath him, tense, needy, and on edge.

Then, just as her muffled whimper broke the silence-

“But I’m a gentleman.”

And with zero warning, zero build-up, zero pretense, he plunged two fingers knuckle-deep inside her.

Her back arched violently, and her body strained against the restraints, as a wrecked, muffled moan ripped through her throat while her walls fluttered and clenched around the sudden intrusion.

Bucky groaned, low and strained, because fuck-

The way she wrapped around his fingers, hot and tight and dripping, it nearly made him jizz in his goddamn jeans.

He stayed still, fingers buried deep, letting her feel it, letting her realize how completely at his mercy she was.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached for the gag, working the buckle free, pulling the saliva-slicked ball from between her lips.

Her breathing was ragged, and her lips swollen, her gaze heavy-lidded and ruined .

Bucky smirked, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip, watching the way it trembled.

“Ready to beg for it, Muffin?”

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky blinked, and his smirk faltered just slightly as he tilted his head, studying her.

She was wrecked, flushed, panting, and yet, those were the first words out of her mouth?

He raised a brow, with his fingers still buried inside her, waiting, listening.

“You just… you made me so mad. I’ve never done something like that before.”

Ah.

So that’s what this was about.

She was talking about the ruler incident.

He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he curled his fingers just slightly, just enough to make her twitch.

“That so?”

She bit her lip, nodding, thighs trembling.

“Sorry if I overstepped.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.

He could smell bullshit a mile away.

But this?

This wasn’t that.

She was being sincere.

And fuck, he almost gave in.

Almost.

Instead, he rewarded her honesty with a slow, deep stroke of his fingers, dragging along that perfect, aching spot inside her.

She gasped, rolling her hips into it, chasing more.

“…And?” he pressed, in a deceptively light tone.

Her brows furrowed. “And what?”

Bucky’s movements stopped entirely.

She whined immediately, a sharp, needy little sound.

His grin returned, slow and infuriatingly smug. “I’m not hearing you beg for it.”

She bit her lip, and her expression was equal part frustrated and desperate. “I said I was sorry.” Her voice was softer now, breathier. “Please.”

Bucky’s smirk didn’t waver, but inside?

He was hanging on by a goddamn thread.

“Please what?” he drawled, fingers still buried inside her, still not moving, sensing the way her walls fluttered, clenched, begged.

She swallowed, feeling her cheeks starting to burn.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose.

Fuck.

Her voice was too raw, too open, and something inside him twisted painfully.

Then, she delivered the final blow.

“And I want to cum on your cock.”

His whole body locked up.

Shit.

Fuck.

Bucky had been prepared to tease her a little longer, keep her squirming, and make her pay for what she did.

But he couldn’t say no to that.

His self-control just snapped.

With a low growl, he pulled his fingers out of her, sucking them as he tore open his jeans, pulling out his aching, heavy cock.

It was already leaking, flushed deep red, twitching at nothing, so painfully hard he almost felt lightheaded.

He lined himself up, dragging the tip through her slick folds, watching her body tremble beneath him. His gaze flicked up, locking onto hers.

“Hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart.” Then, in one slow, brutal stroke He pushed inside.

The debauched moan that spilled from her lips almost made Bucky spill inside her.

His entire body locked up, and his cock throbbed violently at the way she tightened around him, so wet, so fucking perfect.

For a split second, his vision blurred, his brain short-circuited, and every nerve screamed at him to just let go, to give in, to lose himself completely.

But he couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

He forced his face into something composed, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached, digging his fingers into her thighs like a lifeline.

No weakness. Not now.

He dragged in a shaky breath, exhaling through his nose and then, without warning, without preamble,

He fucked her.

Hard. Deep. Relentless.

The van rocked with each brutal snap of his hips, and the sound of wet, obscene slaps filled the tight space, mixing with her gasps, moans, and the sharp little cries she couldn’t bite back.

Bucky gritted his teeth, eyes dark, locked onto the way her breasts bounced wildly with every brutal thrust, the way her wrists strained against the restraints, the way her pussy stretched, taking him so perfectly at every punishing drag and it was too much, too fucking good.

Bucky needed more.

With a tight grip, he grabbed her legs from behind her knees and shoved them up toward her chest, folding her in half, and pressing his own weight against the back of her thighs.

The new angle was devastating, deep, consuming, raw.

Her sharp cry of pleasure sent a violent shudder down his spine.

“Look at me while I fuck you.”

His voice was gravel and heated, commanding, possessive.

Her glazed, pleasure-drunk eyes snapped to his, wide, wrecked, obedient.

Perfect.

But as he relished that sight, something ugly, something hungry swirled inside him and his grip tightened, his thrusts turned sharper, harder.

“Are you seeing other guys besides me?”

She blinked, dazed. “What?”

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her down, keeping her open.

“Answer. The. Fucking. Question.”

Each word was punctuated by a brutal snap of his hips, bullying the tip of his thick cock against her cervix, forcing choked gasps, broken moans, and wrecked sounds from her throat.

Her body arched, trembling, completely at his mercy.

“N-no, only you!”

He groaned, deep and satisfied, never relenting his rhythm, never faltering.

“That’s right, Muffin.”

Then his hand slid up, gripping her jaw, keeping her locked on him.

“And it’s gonna stay that way.”

If she weren’t so overwhelmed, so utterly wrecked, she might’ve had the nerve to call him out on that. Because wasn’t it him who always adamantly reminded her of the nature of their relationship?

Wasn’t it Bucky fucking Barnes who set the rules, who told her over and over this was just a casual thing, no strings, no expectations?

And yet, here he was.

Fucking her like he owned her.

Demanding exclusivity like it was his goddamn right.

If she could breathe properly, if her brain wasn’t being pounded into incoherence, she might’ve had something smart to say.

But right now?

Right now, she could only take it.

The van kept rocking obscenely, and the squeak of the suspension mixed with the filthy, wet sounds of skin meeting skin. Each brutal thrust sent a shudder through the vehicle, and the rhythmic banging against the interior walls was a vulgar reminder of just how hard he was fucking her.

Bucky’s grip on her thighs tightened, with his chest still pressed against the back of her legs, keeping her folded, helpless, spread open just for him.

“Shit. Listen to that, sweetheart.” His voice was thick, rough, absolutely wrecked. “Whole damn van knows you’re gettin’ fucked stupid.”

His cock slammed deep, tearing another sharp, broken moan from her throat. She twitched beneath him and her wrists pulled at the restraints, caught between pleasure and the raw ferocity of the situation.

He smirked, dragging his teeth over her calf, watching the way her body reacted to every touch, every thrust, every filthy word.

“Hope you’re not shy, Muffin. ‘Cause if anyone walks by… they’ll know exactly what’s happening in here just in front of the shop. Maybe I should crack a window open, hm?”

Her eyes went wide, panicked, and needy. Fuck, the perfect reaction.

“Let the whole damn neighborhood to hear.” His pace never slowed, as his cock kept slamming deep inside her, making her cry out. “Let ‘em know how their chirpy baker…” his hand slid over her tummy, up to her bouncing tits, squeezing and claiming, “…with her fuckin’ slutty, little girl apple panties…” He drove into her harder, making her arch, tremble, choke on a moan. “…gets fucked like a whore in a construction van.”

He leaned in, breath hot against her parted lips, grinning as her body clenched around him, as she soaked his cock even more.

“And loves every second of it.”

She let out a wrecked, desperate moan, rolling her hips to meet him, chasing more, more, more.

Bucky just chuckled, dragging a rough hand down her stomach, over her twitching clit, feeling the way her whole body shook.

“Drippin’ all over me, Muffin. So fuckin’ filthy.”

His thumb pressed against her swollen bundle of nerves, rubbing slow, teasing circles, never quite giving her enough.

“You like this, hm? Bein’ put in your place?”

She nodded frantically, babbling something incoherent, something like begging.

He groaned, feeling her pulse around him, how her body screamed for release, but he wasn’t done with her yet. Not until he got what he wanted.

“Use your words, Muffin,” he taunted, slowing his thrusts to deep, deliberate grinds, dragging his cock slow and thick along her fluttering walls.

Her thighs trembled, her bound hands clenching uselessly, her body desperate, completely at his mercy.

“Come on, sweetheart.” His voice was low, rough, dangerously smooth. “You were so good at givin’ me orders the other day, where’s that mouth now, huh?”

She sobbed out something unintelligible, a high-pitched whine caught between frustration and pleasure. He smirked, pressing his thumb harder against her clit, but still rubbing slow, teasing circles.

“Beg me for it. Beg me to cum. Beg me to fill you up.”

Her breath stuttered, and then her chest heaved, as she snapped her wide, dazed eyes to his.

And then, fuck.

“I want it.” Her voice was shaky, wrecked. “I want your cum inside me.”

Bucky’s stomach tightened, and his restraint started snapping thread by thread.

But she wasn’t done.

“Want you to fuck it deep, Sarge. Want you to make a mess of me-”

His cock jerked violently, and his grip bruised against her thighs, as his head tipped back with a low, guttural groan.

Oh, fuck, she was trying to kill him. He slammed his hips harder, more desperate now, more primal.

“Yeah? That what you want?” His voice was wrecked, and uneven, and his rhythm turned frantic and sharp. “Want me to breed this pretty little pussy, huh?”

She nodded frantically, gasping, babbling, begging, toes curling, as her legs trembled against his sides. He grinned against her throat, feeling the way her body shivered, how she gasped and trembled beneath him.

“Well then,” he murmured in a tone thick with lust and satisfaction, scraping his teeth over her pulse again, biting just enough to leave a mark.

“Guess it’s time to let you milk my fucking cock.”

The rubbing on her clit turned ruthless, his fingers pressing tight and mercilessly, every stroke dragging her closer, shoving her straight toward the edge. Somehow his thrusts became sharper, brutal, slamming deep, forcing her to take all of him, stretching her open, making her feel every inch of his aching cock. Her wrists strained against the restraints, her thighs twitched, and her tits bounced wildly between them, every inch of her was shaken, wrecked, overwhelmed.

Bucky groaned, watching her fall apart beneath him. “Come on, Muffin.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, his voice a low, dangerous command. “Be my good little slut and cream all over my cock.” He could feel it, the way her body tensed, thighs trembling violently, and her slick, clenching pussy squeezing around him like a fist.

“That’s it, Muffin. Gonna make a mess all over me, huh?”

She sobbed his name, rolling back her head as her body arched off the blankets, helpless against the force of her orgasm crashing down.

And fuck, he felt it.

The way she tightened, spasmed, and squeezed around his cock, drenching him in slick, hot, unbearable bliss.

He growled as he watched her come undone, feeling it, fucking loving it.

Because he did that.

He made her fall apart like that.

His fingers never let up, rubbing her swollen, overstimulated clit, forcing wave after wave to crash through her body until she was twitching, gasping, completely broken beneath him.

“Fuck, look at you.” His voice was gritted, strained, dangerously close to breaking.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you cum for me.”

His grip tightened on her thighs, pinning her down as his thrusts turned erratic, frantic, mindless. His cock twitched, throbbed, ached, buried deep inside her soaked, pulsing heat.

“Shit- ‘m gonna fill you up, sweetheart.” His hands roamed frantically, gripping her tits, her waist, her thighs, anything he could anchor himself to. “Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside this messy little pussy.”

His rhythm stuttered, his breath caught, and then, a guttural, wrecked moan tore from his throat as his hips slammed forward one final time, burying himself as deep as he could go, and his cock twitched violently inside her.

Then, pure, white-hot bliss.

He spilled thick, hot ropes of cum into her, filling her exactly like he promised, coating her tight walls, as his grip became bruising holding her down, forcing her to take all of it.

“Fuck- fuck- fuck.” His head dropped forward, and his body shook as he rode out the overwhelming, gut-wrenching orgasm tearing through his heated body. Her pussy kept clenching around him greedily, milking him for every last drop, sending aftershocks of overstimulation down his spine, his thighs, and his cock.

He let out a shaky breath, bracketing her head with his forearms as he hovered over her, still buried deep inside her, with his hips still twitching and his cock slowly softening bathed in the mess he’d made.

Then he felt it, the light press of her thighs against his chest, a small, wordless cue. A flicker of awareness cut through his post-orgasmic haze.

Shit.

She was still folded up, with her legs pinned tight against her chest, nearly suffocated by the position.

With a muttered curse, he shifted, easing back slightly, gripping her thighs to guide them down gently, letting her stretch out on the rumpled blankets beneath them.

But when his gaze drifted lower, his brows pulled together.

A faint rash bloomed across the soft skin of her buttocks, raw, irritated. It was the mark of friction from his zipper, his belt, or whatever the fuck else had been in the way.

His jaw ticked.

He’d wanted to return the favor, to humiliate her like she had him, fucking her fully clothed, keeping her vulnerable, exposed, at his mercy.

And fuck, it had felt good.

But now, seeing the evidence of it on her skin…

A small, unwelcome pang of guilt curled in the back of his mind. He shoved it down, masking it behind the lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

There was no point in dwelling on it now.

Instead, he let his gaze drift over her wrecked body, taking in the way her chest still rose and fell unevenly, the way her thighs twitched in the aftermath.

She looked fucked-out, used, ruined, and yet, still so damn pretty.

Bucky exhaled slowly, scanning the mess he made.

Without a word, he glanced around, reaching for the apron, the Wednesday apron, the one that pulled too tight over her tits. He balled it up, dragging the fabric over his softening cock, wiping away the mess with slow, deliberate strokes.

Then, just because he could, he balled it up and dropped it onto her belly.

Her eyes flickered open, and her lips parted as she realized exactly what he’d just done. A slow, dangerous glare settled on her face, and Bucky didn’t miss it.

He smirked, completely unbothered, tracing lazy circles over her thigh with his thumb. “At least it’s not your shirt.”

He winked, smug and satisfied, before reaching up with his vibranium hand.

With a single effortless tug, the plastic restraints snapped, freeing her wrists.

She let out a slow breath, as her arms fell limply to her sides, and he saw the raw marks on her skin, faint but noticeable.

Bucky didn’t linger.

Didn’t watch her rub at her wrists, didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he turned away, tucking himself back into his jeans, adjusting his belt, and dragging a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

The van suddenly felt too quiet.

No more ragged moans, no more filthy taunts, no more rocking suspension giving away their sins. Just the sound of rustling fabric as she sat up and started putting her clothes back on.

No words.

No glances.

Just a methodical routine, like she was resetting something, like she was trying to put distance between them. He listened, still facing away, the sound of buttons slipping through holes, the scrape of her nails over her wrists as she rubbed at the faint marks he’d left. Something about it unsettled him.

Something about it felt wrong.

It had been months since they’d started this situationship, and the lines had been clear from the beginning. Just fucking. Nothing more.

And yet, his attitude in her class had blurred them.

Her retaliation had shattered them.

And now?

Now, this whole damn thing felt like a losing game.

Yeah, maybe she’d gone too far with the taser.

But he’d shoved her into a van, tied her up, fucked her senseless like it was his right. That wasn’t retribution. That was something else.

Something neither of them had planned for.

And as she straightened her blouse, fixing what he’d torn, smoothing down the same damn apron he’d just wiped his cum on, he clenched his jaw, swallowing back the urge to say something, anything, to break the silence.

But before he could stop himself, before he could think better of it-

“Need a ride?”

The words left his mouth almost too casual, like he hadn’t just fucked her in the back of his work van, like he hadn’t just borderline kidnapped her in some twisted act of retaliation.

She paused, mid-button, and her fingers lingered at the collar of her blouse.

A slow, deliberate inhale.

Then -finally- her eyes flicked to his.

For a beat, she just studied him with an unreadable expression, like she was trying to figure something out, piece together whatever the hell this had become.

Then, slowly, she rolled her shoulders, stretching her sore limbs, testing the lingering ache between her thighs. Bucky noticed. Of course, he noticed, and his hands twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to reach for her, to rub the red marks on her wrists, sooth her.

But that wasn’t what this was.

That wasn’t what they did.

So instead, he did what he always did.

He watched her.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, sighing through her nose. After a second of hesitation, she lifted the apron off her lap, frowning when she saw the mess he’d left on it, and flicked her eyes back to him. Then, in a move so quick he barely had time to react-

She balled up the apron and chucked it straight at his face.

He let out a gruff sound, catching the apron midair, scowling when he saw his vibranium fingers smeared with the cum staining the fabric.

Fucking hell.

His jaw ticked, and the muscles in his forearm flexed as he gripped the soiled cloth tightly, too tightly. When he flicked his gaze back up, she was already ending the fix on her blouse like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just been tied up beneath him, writhing, begging, taking everything he gave her.

Like she hadn’t just fucked up his head all over again.

She reached for the door handle, pausing only for a second before throwing him a smug little smirk over her shoulder.

“See you around, Sarge.”

Bucky didn’t respond. Just sat there with his legs spread, resting his forearms on his thighs, and still gripping the soiled apron with his vibranium fingers.

His gaze followed her, something unreadable flickering behind his half-lidded, heavy stare, his chest still rising and falling deep and slow.

What he didn’t get to see, was how the confident little smirk faded slowly, shifting into something pensive. She bit her lip, slowing her pace, as her mind wandered to the van, to him, to everything that just happened.

On the way he held her down, fucked her like he owned her, and then hesitated, even for a second, when he saw the marks he’d left.

On the way he had blurred the lines between retaliation and something else entirely.

On the way he had called her his girl without even realizing it.

And, on the way she didn’t have corrected him.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #dom! bucky

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jobean12-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Next Door to Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 3,188

Summary: When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.

Author's Note: Because why not! Moving in across the hall from Bucky would be a dream, one I'd like to live out please and ty haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty, teasing and tension, a curse or two or three, Bucky is impatient and cocky in the best way!

Last week

Your tired, fuzzy slipper clad feet drag along the floor as you trudge toward the door across the hall. You’re hoping someone is home. Someone who has sugar. Anyone.

You let out a quick exhale and lift your chin before rapping your knuckles against the wood. A frown starts to mar your forehead when you hear a sleepy mumble come from inside the apartment.

Shit, fuck, shit you woke him up. It’s a guy. Of course it is…because you don’t look like you just rolled off your mattress that still has no bedframe and tripped over twenty-five unopened boxes…etc, etc.

The door swings open revealing said guy…a hot-as-fuck guy. Naked, except for his unbuttoned jeans.

Oh hi neighbor.

Before you can stop it, your gaze instantly drops to the dark trail of hair below his bellybutton, framed by a set of abs that you could dry your laundry on.

You reel yourself in and lift your eyes to his which does nothing to help your declining focus. His hair is perfectly mussed from sleep, his chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble and his incredible blue eyes lined by dark lashes.

His hands are planted on either side of the door frame and with every passing second you’re mesmerized by flexing muscles in his chest and arms.

He drags a lazy hand through his unkept hair and smiles. Knowingly. Smugly.

“Can I help you doll?”

“Um…hi. I’m sorry if I woke you…it’s just…I moved in yesterday and haven’t gone shopping yet and I have no sugar. I need my coffee.”

“So you’re my new neighbor,” he croons. “Lucky me.”

You audibly swallow and hold up your coffee cup pleadingly.

“I’ll take care of ya doll.”

With a wink he holds up one long finger.

“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back with that sugar.”

He spins on his heel and walks toward what you’re guessing is the kitchen and it should be considering your apartments are mirror images of each other.

You step inside and stand by the door to wait. You hear him rummaging around and then hear a crash followed by grumbled curses.

Before you can react the cutest white cat saunters out of the kitchen, looking quite proud with his fluffy tail held high and blue eyes unblinking.

“That’s Alpine,” he yells from the other room. “Don’t let his cuteness fool you. He’s a menace!”

You let your laughter ring out and then kneel down to give Alpine some scratches. The cat instantly warms up to you and presses himself against your leg, purring loudly.

“Ah, of course he likes you.”

You look up at the sound of your neighbors voice and reluctantly give up petting Alpine to take the offering of sugar.

“Thank you….?”

“Bucky,” he finishes for you. “Name’s Bucky.”

“Thanks Bucky,” you say with a smile and then introduce yourself.

You look back down at the cat that is now circling between Bucky’s bare feet. “And Alpine really is cute. I can’t imagine he’s a menace.”

“Just wait until you get to know him,” Bucky says. “Can I get you anything else doll?”

“No. Thank you and again I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“No problem at all. I had a late night at the office and I was just being lazy. If you need anything else just come by. Anytime.”

His lips turn up in a boyish grin and he winks again.

You can feel his eyes on you as you turn and walk out into the hall and toward your apartment. Just as you push your door open you look over your shoulder and catch him staring, his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip.

The knock at your door startles you from your unpacking trance and from your spot on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and a mess of things, you ask, “who is it?”

“It’s Bucky…and I have food.”

Your smile is impossible to hide and you shout back, “come in!”

Bucky appears in the doorway with a pizza box.

“Hiya doll face,” he chimes. “I figured you’d need some fuel.”

You drag yourself out of the mess on the floor and hop up onto the edge of the counter.

“Thanks Bucky. I really appreciate it, but you’re spoiling me. What is it now…the third time this week you’re feeding me?”

He hands you a slice and then stands there, watching while you take a bite.

“And why not? You need to eat and I love to eat, might as well do it together!”

You laugh through your bite. “Then what motivated you to help with my furniture?”

He shrugs and grabs a slice of pizza, shoving half into his mouth before he answers.

“Perfect opportunity to show off my muscles.”

He waggles his brows suggestively and flexes a bicep.

“Double win for me,” you admit, licking your lips. “How will I ever repay you.”

He remains quiet for several moments while he studies you then asks, “how about a real dinner?”

“Pizza is the realest dinner there is!” you state with a mouthful.

“Let me take you out. For something other than pizza.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Would you say yes if I were?”

Your legs swing back and forth at the knee as you finish your bite and then place your slice of pizza down. You reach over the box and grab the marker you left out on the counter, placing it between your lips.

Watching him from under your lashes, you take his arm and roll up the sleeve of his Henley and when your fingertips make contact with the sensitive skin on his underside of his forearm you can feel his muscles tighten.

Your mouth curves around the marker at his reaction and you pluck it from between your lips and start writing on his skin.

“Now you’ve got my number. Text me and we’ll pick a date for our date.”

“Thank you,” he says, leaning in close and dropping his eyes to your mouth.

Your lips part with your small gasp of air and when his thumb lifts to brush along the corner of your mouth you let out a rush of air.

“Sauce,” he states before he licks his finger clean, his gaze locked on yours.

You nod as he steps back and pulls out his phone to dial your number on his arm. Your phone rings and he says, “and now you’ve got mine.”

You spend the rest of your weekend unpacking and doing errands, running into Bucky only once in a frantic rush of laundry. He offers to help but you know if you let him you’ll become distracted and never get anything done. The two of you text back and forth, deciding on Saturday for your official date. No pizza involved.

The next morning you get another text from him.

“Morning doll face. Don’t forget an umbrella. Gonna rain later today.”

“Are you the weather man now?” you message back, smiling at your phone.

“Nah. Just a friendly neighbor.”

“Did you tell everyone in the building about the rain and remind them to bring an umbrella.”

“Just you…”

“Thanks, but I’m already half way to work sans umbrella.”

“Damn it. I knew I should have texted earlier. Now if you get caught in the rain it’ll be all my fault.”

“Hardly! I should have checked the weather. Can’t rely on you for everything can I?”

He sends a wink face.

“Is it Saturday yet?”

“Still only Monday morning. What’s Saturday?”

“Don’t tease me doll. I’ve been looking forward to this date since you showed up at my door lookin’ for sugar.”

“Have a good day Bucky.”

“You too doll…stay dry.”

You’re only two blocks from your apartment building when the sky opens up and the rain comes down in buckets. By the time you reach the doors you’re soaked through and cursing at yourself for forgetting an umbrella.

The door attendant lets you in with a sympathetic smile and as you’re sloshing past him and toward the elevator you hear Bucky’s voice.

“Oh doll. Look at you.”

He tugs his mail from the box and slams it shut, rushing toward you and taking your arm.

“Soaked,” you say sadly.

“I can see that,” he muses with a twitch of his perfect lips. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and dry.”

The elevator doors open and you step inside with a shiver. He immediately starts to pull your jacket from your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” you ask without stopping him.

“You have to get out of this jacket. I’m sure your shirt is….”

He stops speaking when his eyes catch sight of your white button down, soaked through so that you can see the lace of your bra outlined against the fabric.

“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his eyes back to your face. “Here.”

He shrugs off his damp jacket and then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“But it’ll get all wet,” you protest.

“Don’t care. You can’t walk out of the elevator like that.”

His jaw is set in a hard line as his fingers work over the scruff that lines it. The elevator dings at your floor and he takes your hand, leading you out and checking the hallway.

“Why are you looking around like that?” you ask.

He turns back to you and tugs you closer. “I don’t wanna anyone seeing you.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to kill them,” he states.

“Someone is acting a little jealous,” you giggle.

“Yeah well…we haven’t even had our first date yet. Can’t have someone looking at what’s about to be mine.”

“Yours,” you breathe out, not even realizing you’re now standing in front of your apartment door.

With shaky fingers you start to remove his suit jacket but before you can he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Don’t doll. Just keep it for now.”

“But we’re at the door. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but if you take that off then I have to see you in your wet shirt again. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I do.”

“Control yourself how?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

He responds with a pained groan before his mouth meets yours and he has you pressed against the door.

Even though your shirt is soaked through and your skin is cold you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself and he lifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

Your scrape your nails along his broad shoulders and he moans out your name.

“Fuck, I love having your hands on me.”

The desperation in his voice has you arching into him and you drop your head against the door, giving him access to trail his lips down your neck. Your fingers slide into his hair and tug at the soft strands. He growls into your skin and scrapes his teeth over your pulse point making you gasp his name.

“Oh I like that,” you whisper.

He does it again.

“You’re going to like everything I do to you doll face.”

His lips graze yours and he swallows your whimper, crowding you closer to the door before muttering out a curse and letting you both take a breath.

“Is it Saturday yet?” he asks, still breathless.

“Still Monday,” you answer, feeling just the same.

“Right,” he says, planting his hands on the door above your head and dropping his head forward.

A door down the hall opens and he pauses, straightening his body to hide your own. You both smile at the older lady who walks by with a questioning look.

When Bucky’s eyes return to you they drop to where he spread his jacket open to put his hands on you, your shirt sticking to your wet skin even more now.

He stares before reluctantly dragging his eyes up and taking the sides of the material and pulling them tightly around you.

You tremble.

“Still cold?” he asks, his eyes soft with worry.

“Hardly,” you answer and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“See you later Bucky.”

“I’m counting on it doll.”

You spend the rest of the week juggling your time between work, texting Bucky and sleeping. You’ve only seen him once since Monday evening and that was for five minutes when he caught you coming home again but this time he had his friend Steve with him and there was no chance for any kissing.

Saturday morning rolls around and you wake up to a text from him.

“It is finally Saturday or am I dreaming?”

“It’s really Saturday!”

“Thank fuck! Can we start our date now?”

“No…I have to do girly things and prepare.”

“What kinds of things….?”

“I’ll see you tonight Buck.”

You can almost hear his groan through the phone.

“I’ll be at your door at 7 sharp.”

Bucky knocks on your apartment door at exactly the same time your phone clock hits 7:00pm. You grin at your best friend Nat before she gets up and walks toward the door.

“Oh girl. He’s hot!” a muffled voice says from the other side.

It isn’t yours so Bucky assumes it’s your friend.

“He’s at least a nine.”

Bucky scoffs, muttering, “a nine?” quietly to himself.

“Hey, I can hear you in there. Are you gonna open the door?” he asks the unknown voice.

The door swings open to reveal a red head who looks him over with two scrutinizing green eyes.

“Hi,” he smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Bu…”

“Bucky,” she finishes. “I know who you are…question is…do you know who I am?”

“You must be Natasha,” Bucky answers with a smug smile.

“That’s right and I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu so you do anything I don’t like and I will end you.”

Bucky’s eyes light up and he watches Nat as she moves toward the kitchen.

“You almost ready doll face,” he yells, not taking his eyes off Nat in case she goes for a knife.

“I’m right here,” you say.

Bucky turns to find you standing right in front of him. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep you up and down.

“This is where you say she looks amazing,” Nat admonishes from the kitchen, dangerously close to the knife rack.

However, Bucky’s eyes never leave you and when he steps into your space and wraps you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, you let out a squeal of delight.

“You look fucking gorgeous,” he says, loud enough for Nat to hear, then whispers, only for your ears, “I want to rip this dress off you.”

Your lips spread into a sly smile. “We made the right choice Nat.”

“Of course we did,” she chimes. “Now go. I’ll lock up.”

“I’m so ready,” he says, ushering you toward the door, but not before turning to Nat, still in the kitchen eyeing him warily, and asking, “I’m good with a nine, but just out of curiosity, what did I lose a point for?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it in front of you?” Nat asks.

“I wanna hear it too Nat,” you say, raising an expectant and skeptical brow.

“You didn’t shave.”

He runs the free hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, over his jaw.

“I didn’t get any complaints earlier this week,” Bucky says, eyes now sparkling with mischief.

“He’s right Nat,” you add. “I like it.”

Nat rolls her eyes and shoos you away.

Once you’re safely in the elevator and away from prying eyes Bucky invades your space, plastering you against the cool metal wall and caging you there with his large body.

“It almost killed me to not be kissing you for the past five minutes,” he says against your lips.

When you press into him and slide your body along his it sucks the breath right out of his lungs and fills them with something else. Need.

The kiss pulls a throaty groan from him and his belt buckle digs into your skin, the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, pressing and flexing over the thin material of your dress.

The elevator door dings and begins to slide open, causing you to give his chest a gentle shove.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks as he lifts a finger and traces your swollen lips.

“That would suck,” you reply. “I kind of like having you as a neighbor.”

After a delicious dinner at a roof top restaurant down town, Bucky walks you along the street, hand in hand, as you listen and laugh to his childhood stories about growing up in Brooklyn.

“Where are we going now?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he says as he twirls you into his side and presses his fingers under your chin to steal a kiss.

As you get closer to your destination the bright lights sparkle and the smell of the ocean is carried on the warm breeze.

“Which bridge is that?” you ask with awe.

“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he tells you and grabs your hand to pull you along. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

When you reach the top of the look out he slides an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest.

“This is so beautiful Bucky,” you whisper.

He kisses your cheek and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your face up to his. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the city…but not anymore.”

You’re thankful for his strong arms holding you up and after a sweet kiss you enjoy the view in comfortable silence for a few more minutes but his hands start to wander, soft and sure, and with each passing touch your body aches for more.

His warm breath fans across your neck and his arm moves lower until his hand grasps your hip and he pulls you back to feel the hardness between his legs.

You suck in a breath and fight the urge to move against him.

With a curse he pulls away and grabs your hand, dragging you toward the park under the bridge. The only lights come from the lit-up buildings across the street and when he finds a hidden spot he backs you against the cold stone but you’re too hot to care.

“Bucky,” you whisper as your hands roam over his broad chest.

His mouth brushes yours before he gently nips at your bottom lip.

“I can’t even keep my fucking hands off you long enough to bring you home,” he murmurs.

His fingers find the hem of your dress and he slides them under, slowly teasing the fabric higher until his hand brushes over the wetness on your panties.

“Please, Bucky,” you pant.

“Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that,” he growls. “I need to get you home so I can hear you scream it for me.”

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes fanfictionn #bucky barnes x y/n #neighbor!bucky barnes #neighbor au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #neighbor!bucky x reader

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ma1dita · 2 months ago

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look don't touch

'between certainties and doubts' installment part of the mean!remus agenda, aka a moment from a terrifyingly convoluted teenage situationship between remus lupin and an unidentified Hogwarts student (x fem!reader) wc: 1.7k a/n: remus looks at you in a way you think makes him yours. that was your mistake. angst. this was a request! loosely based off a true story...again. yes i was down bad.

—

He was looking at you.

Every single time your eyes wandered around the crowded space, his emerald ones were locked onto your figure, piercing through every single one of your pores. Maybe it was the way your jeans fit your ass or the way your top clung to your body—he always did like you in blue. Deep blue, like the ocean tides he would chase after in Swansea as a child, feet smacking against the rippling water before it settles. Of course, Remus’ motivations were much less innocent now, 17 years of age—that of a grown man, as Sirius is always chuffed to remind him about.

Time to put your big boy pants on Moony! Gotta put yourself out there to get a bird and lock ‘er down!

Little do they know, you’re his biggest secret, left chasing after the flutter of your sparkly eyelids as you imbibe yourself for a game of King’s Cup. He’s kept you in a pocket close to his heart (or on his dick, depending on the mood) and away from even his closest friends. A secret bigger than his lycanthropy is one he’d never imagine to have the privilege (or misfortune) of having. It was all so complicated in that big brain of his—and of course, the four shots of Firewhiskey he was dared to down back to back did nothing to help.

Remus’ gaze was simmering—setting you alight with his unspoken intentions. Almost overstimulating, as if you could choke on the cigarette smoke he blew out in plumes from across the common room, like he was pulling you in towards him and his boys. It’s hard to mind your business when a man is constantly in it, you realize—and no matter how many turns around the room you make, or glasses of Elderflower wine your roommate hands over for you to chug, you could not shake him.

Well fuck him, right?

With every bone in your body feeling loose and light, you’re shaking your hips to a song you can barely distinguish because everything around you is a blur. Alcohol lines your veins and you swear the next time you take a peek through your peripherals, Remus’ eyes are darkened—his stare feeling like a caress in itself, tugging at the desire in your core.

Fuck him—actually…wait, that sounds like a great idea.

The music is too loud in here—Peter’s turned on a song that’s made half of the room scream, and then you feel hands press into your lower back.

Remus.

One of his long fingers catches the sliver of skin that separates your top from your jeans and he’s whispering into your ear as he passes, a hot gust of breath, “Scuse us, lovely.” James is close behind him, tossing you a wink as they make their way towards Frank and Alice on the sofas. You can feel his touch even after he goes. Much of your conversations with Remus Lupin are dealt in passing glances and raised eyebrows. Who needs words when it’s clear you’ll go where he wants you to follow?

He knows that—it’s been the only habit you find yourselves consistent with. But perhaps the both of you forget yourselves when there are other factors at play.

Lily’s calling you over to the group, a pale slender hand waving you over with a disarmingly bright grin. The Marauders & Co. are infamous throughout Hogwarts, and especially within Gryffindor. It’s hard to find a spot to settle in, but you saunter over anyways, nth drink in a shaky hand.

She calls out your name gleefully, kissing you on the cheek, “This is my best girl right here—she’s bloody brilliant at Care of Magical Creatures, saved my arse for the term project!”

“High praise from the Head Girl,” you grin lazily, stumbling slightly on your feet, “Careful, Potter. One more sweet nothing from her and I’ll steal your girl.” The group laughs easily at the banter, James’ ears turning red at the notion. You’d never been one to run in their circles, but keeping the pace is easier than you thought it would be. That, or it’s the liquid confidence warming up the nerves. You perch yourself onto the sofa arm right next to Remus—your thigh touching his arm and he stills, mentally checking out of his conversation with Sirius sitting next to him, who instead looks over to you.

“Got a knack for taming wild things, eh, love?”

And Remus elbows him, making Sirius’ butterbeer slosh onto his silk shirt which he immediately whines about. You’re laughing now and Remus’ head starts spinning at the sound and the realization that you would fit perfectly into his life if only he let you—and he didn’t know what was more terrifying, that, or the fact that he almost wants you to.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Black?” you tease through half-lidded eyes. You’re plastered now, your foot slowly stroking up and down whatever you can feel of Remus and he locks eyes with you again, from much closer than he has all night. It’s electrifying, sends a chill up his spine he can’t hide. Glowing under the dim lights, you’re something of a sight for sore eyes—staring at him almost sinister.

For once, he feels like the prey, trapped with nowhere to go.

Like an idiot, his best friend starts to howl, sending everyone into a fit of laughter and Remus feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin. Nothing about this is funny and he feels like everything might unravel the longer he sits here.

And then your hand touches his shoulder, soft and gentle—your eyes are only ever on him. He takes a deep breath, tensing. You’re leaning over him, lips grazing his ear and Remus swears he can almost taste the scent of your skin, “Alright, baby?” It comes out sweet and dreamy, you’re liberal with pet names and no one thinks much of it, or everyone’s too drunk to care but he feels his heart beating up out of his chest and he chokes on it.

“No,” he mutters, his right hand resting onto your knee and you take it as permission to lean closer to him, legs spilling into his space and breasts filling his vision. The inebriation makes you candid, your hand behind his head on the backrest of the couch, reaching to comb through his messy brown hair—even when you’re drunk you just want to make sure he’s okay, eyes flickering unsteadily across his face.

And then he pushes you. Kind of.

The hand on your thigh jerks as he stands up and in your state you topple right over the side of the couch and land on your back to a chorus of giggles. You’re sticky and humiliated—taking a moment to stare at the ceiling and whatever worry you had for him takes itself out on the exhale.

Remus is standing over you, looking mortified—you swat his hand away as he tries to help you up.

“Someone’s had too much to drink,” Frank says playfully and his girlfriend tuts, grabbing you by the arm to pull you up.

“All of you boys are being mean to her!” Alice pouts, trying to dust the muck off the back of your jeans and you’re biting the inside of your cheek.

“Nope, he’s right. I’ve had just about enough,” you laugh stiffly. I should…that’s my cue to go.” Without saying goodbye, you turn on your heel just before your lip starts to quiver. Remus calls out your name, but you’re running out of the common room like it’s a house on fire.

You’re going in the opposite direction of your dorm— almost in a full sprint, but he catches you by the arm, captures you even as you try to wrestle out of his grasp and when he wrenches you toward him with almost the same amount of force— fuck, you’re crying.

“Oh just FUCK OFF, will you?”

“Hey,” he shushes, as if he’s trying to placate a tiny little creature—maybe you are, he watches you fold in on yourself in real time and you push him away before he can get closer, “I didn’t mean for that to happen, okay? I wa–”

“You looked at me,” you seethe, chest heaving, “I thought, I mean, I wasn’t even…” you hiccup, shaking your head. You cringe, ripping your shirt over your head to rid yourself of this feeling of being disgusting, unwanted—throwing the dark blue fabric at his face.

“Fuck you, Remus. I was worried about you. Do you always think I’m trying to sleep with you? Is that all you see me for?”

He’s blinking slowly, eyes flickering up and down and he’s at a loss for words for a multitude of reasons right now, “I know that, lovely. I-I know.”

“What else do you want from me, Remus?”

Mascara is running down your cheeks. He wipes the tracks away with the sleeve of his flannel, but you won’t stop sobbing and he pulls you into his arms murmuring promises he can’t keep into your ear. It’s hard to resist, crumpling into his arms because even if it doesn’t seem like it right now, he’s the only one you want despite this.

“I’ll make it up to you, lovely girl. I’m so sorry. I want all of you, baby. I don’t deserve you.” Remus’ words are like a lullaby—through the state the both of you are in, somehow he gets you into your bed and draws the curtains shut lest your roommates see when they get back from the party. His touch is gentle again, not lewd nor selfish, and you’re half asleep when you feel him wipe your face clean with a warm washcloth. You think he stays the night, you know it by the feeling of his breath imprinted into your neck so much that you still feel it when you close your eyes. And a kiss is shared, if not given, if only either of you knew where it begins and ends. It tastes of sleep and longing, and you savor it, giving in before he does. Remus looks at you for a few more hours after, deep in thought until his own eyes give out from exhaustion—still, he stares until he can’t.

One day, it won’t be like this anymore.

When you wake up, you’re not sure if it was all a dream. Remus has never slept in your room before, and there are barely any traces that he had been there at all, besides the blouse folded and clean at the edge of your bed, and the fact that the flannel wrapped around your body still smells like him from last night, heady and intoxicating.

—

i don't do taglists anymore! follow @ma1dita-mail & turn on post notifs 🤍

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin x angst #marauders era #marauders x reader #harry potter x reader #mean!remus

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cherrygirlfriend · 3 months ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the process

pairing: gynecologist!nanami x reader synopsis: you go to get artificial insemination. your gyno has a different method. warnings/tags: smut, artificial insemination, unprotected piv, breeding kink, public sex, small surprise at the end, MDNI! wc: 1.2k a/n; i posted another version of this for another character, but since i was debating between who i wanted it to be about, i pretty much just decided to make one for nanami too

nanami masterlist ♡

you couldn't resist the urge to tap the heel of your boot against the linoleum floor - rolling your golden wedding band so you wouldn't bite your freshly manicured nails. it felt like your heart was going to thump thump thump out of your chest and land on the floor in front of you.

there were only three other people in the waiting room, a few posters related to women's health decorating the otherwise plain, dull, light green walls of the office, the tick-tock of the clock and the hushed whispers of the two nurses behind the front desk being the only thing you could focus on, along with the overpowering stench of chanel no 5 that was wafting from the other customer waiting for her appointment browsing through an age-old copy of cosmopolitan.

you nearly hopped to your feet when the door to one of the offices opened, clutching your purse like it was the only thing keeping you afloat. "come in." nanami said with a small smile on his lips, gesturing towards his office.

you followed the tall man into the sterile, white office, holding your arms tightly against your chest, your shoulders hunched. when doctor nanami noticed your skittish behavior, he offered a small smile, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before using it to cup your cheek and lifting it up so you were forced to look at his freckled face, "there's no need to be nervous. this is a pretty regular procedure. you can change into the gown and lay down on the examination table."

when you let out a reluctant nod, the doctor walked further into his office, giving you some privacy. while you listened to him rifle through papers, slowly, you tugged your sweater off along with your jeans, leaving your underwear to cover your skin that was now in goosebumps while you covered yourself with the blue rustling hospital gown, until it came time to slip them off.

you took a few tentative steps towards the examination table, walking on your heels as your gynecologist turned to face you, your chart in his hands, his brown eyes skimming over the details as you sat down onto the examination table, the paper sheet rustling against the paper gown in a way that made you cringe.

"so, how many days ago did you take your last dose of clomid?"

"eight days ago." you said with a tight smile, fiddling with the hem of your gown, "and i did an ovulation test before i left home, and it said my ovulation should be at its highest."

"you've really done your homework." he chuckled, placing down the clipboard, placing his warm hand on your bare knee in a comforting gesture. "are you ready to get started? i've got your husband's specimen prepared. don't worry, the catheter won't hurt, you might just feel a bit uncomfortable for a moment."

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and laying back as you steadied your breathing, trying your best to get comfortable. "ready." you whispered softly, opening your eyes to look up at the slightly yellow-tinted fluorescent light above you.

"it helps the sperm to travel if you've got your pelvis propped up." doctor nanami said in a slightly hushed tone, lifting your hips up and placing a pillow underneath your hips, the blond man's hands pressing your hips down to meet it, keeping them there as he looked down at you with a small smile. "there you go. are you comfortable?"

"it does." you swallow dryly, fiddling with the paper sheet underneath you, sighing. "i hope it works out. we've been trying to get pregnant for a year now."

"yeah?" he looked down at you, his eyes crinkling slightly, the feel of the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he drew small patterns to the hem of your hospital gown. "do you know what people say helps with getting pregnant?"

"what?" you almost whispered, your thighs starting to form goosebumps under doctor nanami's fingers as they slowly slid under the crinkly god-ugly gown, stroking your skin gently.

"orgasms." nanami's hand continued to slide up your inner thigh, the metal of the man's wedding ring a pleasure contrast against your warm skin, "it's never been proven to be accurate, of course." his hand was just under your crotch, drawing infinity-symbols on your skin, a pondering look on his face as he cocked his head to the side, a small smirk appearing on his face, "but it never hurts to be thorough, right?"

doctor nanami had you folded over on the examination table, holding your legs at your sides, his warm lips placing sloppy, hot kisses on your neck as his cock slid out of you before slamming against your cervix, the man letting out a soft breathy laugh at every little gasp or moan that managed to escape your lips.

"how many times do i have to tell you, honey?" he mumbled against your skin, his words intensified by the pace of his hips snapping against yours increasing, a loud yelp leaving you, "you don't need to try and keep quiet. no one's gonna hear us." he breathed out.

the pad kento's thumb found your clit, starting to draw small circles on it as the room was filled with your unsteady breathing combined with the lewd squelch of your pussy every time his hips met yours, "come ooon, let me hear all those pretty little noises... it's not like this is the first time we've fooled around here."

kento tried pulling away from your neck, but you tugged him closer by his hair, "god, kento..." you moaned, pressing him against your neck, the doctor letting out a pleased hum against your skin.

"come on, darling... tell me how much you want me to put a baby in you, yeah?"

"so badly..." your back arched off the examination table while kento's long fingers slid up to your breast, teasing it with small kneads and pinches before his left hand found your hand, your fingers intertwining with his, your matching wedding bands meeting.

"i love you so much... i can't wait for you to be all pretty and pregnant." he smiled against your skin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

MEANWHILE….

"i wonder what's taking dr. nanami so long..." the receptionist wondered aloud with a frown on her pouty lips, turning to look at the clock on the wall as she tapped her pink fingernails, "i mean, it's almost lunchtime."

the other receptionist let out a snort, interrupting the movement of the file against her long nail, turning to look at the other girl with raised brows, chewing gum. "what, you don't know?"

"know what?"

"oh, this is good." the receptionist laughed, throwing her head back with laughter in her office chair. "you don't know who she is."

"what?" the other girl asked, huffing in annoyance as she grabbed a cheeto out of the bag sitting in front of them.

"that client is mrs. nanami."

"as in-"

"yup, that was doctor nanami's wife." she let out a loud snort of a laugh as she shook her head, grabbing a cheeto before going back to filing her nails. "guess she gets special treatment."

#⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x you #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujustsu kaisen x reader #kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento fanfic

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solifloris · 1 year ago

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≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : softdom!xavier, reader has negative thoughts, implications of depression (not explicitly stated/mentioned), implication of self-harm (scars) (not detailed), slight arguing (ish), cuddling, praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, nipple play, slight clit play, fingering, soft and lazy foreplay, use of pet names "angel" "princess", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((slightly unedited))

note : the depiction of depression in this work does not mean to generalize; please keep in mind that different people can experience depression very differently!

wc : 6.1k

youtiful masterlist | works masterlist

You blew your hair out of your face as you walked quietly, your footsteps moving slow as you climbed the staircase of your apartment complex. Your hand was loosely holding the upper arm opposite to it, and you sighed.

You couldn't even practice your own profession without making things harder for everyone.

You bit back a grimace recalling the low-level Wanderer that you had even barely managed to kill—how embarrassing! Sure, maybe it had been particularly difficult for you to get proper sleep, and, sure, maybe it had been just as hard for you to find your appetite enough to eat as much as you should be eating—

But the point still stood.

You were supposed to be an accomplished Hunter, and yet, here you were, walking home with wound marks from a Wanderer that most beginners could easily defeat.

If Jenna and the rest of the team knew...

You shook your head.

They shouldn't know...

You grimly moved your thumb over the sensor of your door lock, when your ears picked up the sound of light footsteps.

It was as if by instinct that you whipped your head around almost immediately, and when your eyes fell upon a set of very familiar blue ones, you almost felt yourself shrink back.

Xavier.

"...Oh," was all he said for a moment, stopping a few feet away from you, tilting his head to the side. You knew that look; he was observing you. He had obviously found the situation odd, obviously found something wrong and out of place with it, and you weren't particularly surprised—Xavier was always observant.

But you let your arms drop to the side, pulling down your sleeves to the tips of your fingers, and unfortunately, you couldn't help yourself from being a little awkward.

"Um... Hi?" You supplied, attempting a crooked smile.

Xavier didn't reply for a moment, and the silence made your heart beat uncomfortably in your chest.

And then,

"You didn't answer," he spoke, finally.

When you gave him a confused look, he gestured towards the pocket of your jeans, where he always knew your phone was.

You winced.

"Oh... Right... Sorry. I, uh? I was kind of busy..."

Your gaze fell to the ground.

"...Okay," Xavier spoke again after a while, but you heard him take a step forward. "I was worried, so I came down to check."

Another pause—

"What were you busy with?"

Your heart thrummed loudly in your chest, and you still refused to look up at him, in fear of making your lie all the more easier for him to dismiss: "Just a little morning outing with Tara!" You tried your best to sound a little energetic.

"So.... You're okay?"

You could feel his eyes boring right into you, and he took another few steps forward until you could see the tips of his shoes from where you stood looking at the ground.

"...Yeah..."

By some magnetic force, your were drawn to look up almost meekly into his eyes, and you knew instantly that it was a giveaway. You faltered when your gazes met; Xavier's eyes were always so impossibly blue that you could never bring yourself to look away once you'd started.

"...Hey... Are you sure?" You watched a small frown grace his features then, and perhaps, it was what triggered what seemed to be a pre-programmed response to any sign of disapproval.

You put up your best smile, and nodded your head. "Yeah! I'm fine! Great, even!"

"But... The way you're standing—"

Xavier reached out as if to grab your arm, but your eyes widened.

You quickly twisted away.

Feeling your heart beat faster, you turned to unlock your door, already taking a step inside. "Nothing's wrong!" You insisted, still smiling cheerfully at him. "I'm feeling absolutely peachy! Just a normal day out! Just, you know. Socializing can get tiring sometimes, right? I'll just, um, get some rest before the banquet later—"

Xavier was observant.

He was always observant.

You knew this, and yet, you had clearly underestimated it.

"...Your blouse..." He murmured, still frowning slightly as his gaze shifted to your collar. It was upturned, and you'd missed a button. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized that he could easily piece things together from this if you let him study you any longer.

In a rush, you reached over to fix your blous, and then looked back up at him with a nervous laugh. You put your arms in front of you to wave them with denial. "Don't mind it! I, uh... I didn't notice. I must've looked silly all day, haha...!"

And then you noticed your next mistake.

Xavier's eyes slowly traveled lower, and you gasped as you realized that your blouse had ridden up with your sudden movements, exposing a cut on your waist from the Wanderer that you had been fighting. There was no hiding it now, even as you cleared your throat and hurriedly pulled and straightened your shirt.

"You're hurt."

It was a simple statement, and the soft concern in his voice made you exhale slowly.

No, you thought, not now, Xavier...

"I-it's just a little cut. I can deal with it! I know how to treat my own wounds—"

"But you always treat my wounds."

That frown again.

Your mouth went dry.

"...Yes, but... This is... This is different, I'm fine, it's just... Just one cut..."

This time, Xavier's frown deepened, and he didn't say anything else. Instead, he pulled you in through your own door, into your own appartment, and pointed directly towards the couch—

"Sit down."

You chewed on your bottom lip, watching as he walked further into the unit and into your bathroom.

His voice was cold.

It was one you hadn't heard quite often; one he only used when he was... serious. And most notably, one he used more often with other people than yourself.

Your heart sank.

I've really done it this time... you thought, sitting down neevously on your couch and folding your hands neatly onto your lap. You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip.

Your thoughts were going a mile a minute—he was upset, he was angry. He was going to come back out of there and scold you and tell you off, and you could easily have a fight right then and there because you were so needlessly incompetent—

Footsteps.

The door shut.

Xavier knew your apartment like the back of his hand, having been over so often, that it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for—a few moments, and he emerged from the bathroom holding your familiar first-aid kit.

You felt meek as he walked over, footsteps heavier than usual, getting on his knees in front of you... But he didn't say a single word. He remained silent even as he lifted up your blouse, respectful enough not to lift it unnecessarily high, only just enough to expose your cut. It's kind of him, you thought, the simple action easing your nerves slightly. Despite the fact that you had been intimate several times before, he would still respect your space—even if he was obviously displeased in the moment.

But displeased, he was.

There was tension, and it was undeniable.

Your heart continued to beat rapidly in your chest, feeling small as he treated your wound.

"...It's our day off," he spoke curtly then.

Ah, you thought, now he's addressing the lie I told him...

"...Yeah..." you whispered quietly.

"Jenna knows we have the banquet later on."

"...i know..."

Xavier looked up, frowning, and you bit your lip at the iciness in his stare. "You know, and yet you went out and got yourself hurt."

"Th- there was a wanderer—"

"And you decided you could take it on your own, is that it?"

"B-but I did! It's gone now, and I—"

"It's gone, and you're injured. On. Your. Day. Off."

You swallow down a protest, your lips quivering slightly. You didn't know anymore, if it was the sting from the disinfectant that brought tears to your eyes, or this unusually cold demeanor that you were witnessing from him.

Or, you thought grimly, perhaps it was both.

But it was almost as if Xavier did not notice as he cleaned up your wound, reaching into the kit to bandage it. He kept a solemn, expressionless face, and the silence was loud. Uncomfortable.

"...Xavier..." Your voice came out as barely a whisper, and then he shifted to turn completely to the kit, almost as if rummaging through it.

"I'll need to take off your shirt," he spoke somewhat matter-of-factly, but he still refused to look up at you.

"...H- huh?"

"How many wounds do you have?"

You gulped. "...Just... just this one..."

Another silence.

He paused, and you almost wished that the ground would swallow you whole.

And yet still, again, was the kindness from his usual gentle nature—because he still asked for your permission. He knew well that you never took of your top completely in front of him, always preferring it on even on nights he would make love to you.

...But something told you that he wouldn't be entirely happy to let it go in this moment.

You faltered when he turned his head.

"Don't lie to me."

He narrowed his eyes.

It was a simple statement, and a valid one—you had indeed been lying to him, since the moment he'd caught you in the hallway. And yes, you deserved chastisement for it. Of course you did! When was it ever a good thing to lie so much to your partner? To avoid them and their care? You knew you were being pathetic and he had every right to be upset with you, but—

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, feeling tears prick at your eyes again.

"...Don't..." you pleaded, your voice small. You closed your eyes, bowing your head and moving to draw your knees up to your chest, withdrawing into a closed position. "Don't be like this, Xavier, please... Y- you're scaring me..."

Another apprehensive silence followed after your words, and you felt yourself shiver.

But in the next second, Xavier sighed.

There was a shift in weight on the couch as he sat beside you, and then his hands reached over to rest on top of yours. His touch this time was warm. Gentle. A stark contrast to his earlier treatment.

"...I'm sorry, angel," he murmured. The use of his nickname for you made your heart skip a beat, and he rubbed soft circles over the back of your hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I just... Look at me? Please?"

In response, you loosened your hold over your knees, and grip his hand tightly in yours. After a moment, you raised your hed with a pout, your eyes glistening with tears that threatened to spill. But his gaze was soft again—so gentle and loving like you had always known it to be.

"...'M just worried, angel," he whispered, continuing the soft, comforting strokes over your hand. "I... You promised me last time that you wouldn't be reckless, and, angel... You've been so distant lately..."

You watched as his eyes softened into a look of sadness, and your lips quivered.

"I... want you to honor your promise, that's all. These days... In our missions, you've become less cautious, more reckless... More involved with work and more distant with me and with everyone, and I just—I worry about you, angel. I... I don't understand what's going on, and just now, I let my emotions get the better of me, and I... I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

His apology came out chopped, a little uncertain around the edges, as if he couldn't find the right words to truly say to you. But his voice remained quiet and soothing, no longer as cold and icy as it had been moments ago.

"Talk to me?" he pleaded. "Please, angel?"

And you figured that you should.

This was Xavier, after all—your boyfriend, and the most loving person that you had ever known. You owed him an explanation.

...But your heart remained heavily set in your chest.

You were hesitant.

"I... I don't know how..." You managed to get out, swallowing thickly once more.

Xavier's eyes were so blue, so bright, so kind as he looked at you.

Your gaze dropped back down to your knees.

"...I don't know how to do anything anymore," you whispered. "Even if I tried to explain it to you, I wouldn't know what to say, it's just... It's so much easier to ignore, to pretend like these feelings don't exist."

"What feelings, angel?" You felt his hand squeeze yours in a manner of reassurance, but you shook your head.

"Bad ones," you mumbled, "negative ones. And if I don't keep myself busy, then I can't ignore them. I'll think too much. Then if I think too much, it... it might happen again..."

Your chest felt heavy as you spoke, even as Xavier comfortingly held your hand, even as you knew that he was listening to you with every intention to guide you through... whatever this was.

But you really didn't know how to continue anymore.

How could you say anything when you couldn't understand it yourself?

You felt so... pathetic.

"Angel?" Xavier murmured, lacing your fingers together. "What... might happen?"

For a while, you didn't speak; you didn't move.

And Xaver did not pressure you.

He stayed silent right along with you, rubbing into the palm of your hand, his gaze on you so full of love and concern that it almost made you cry.

So you closed your eyes and pulled your hand away from him. You told yourself that maybe it would be easier if they stayed closed, and you slowly unbuttoned your blouse, shrugging it off of your shoulders. You didn't want to see his reaction... But you knew what he could see, on your skin, now.

There were a few cuts on your shoulder from your fight with the Wanderer, smaller and less concerning than the one on your waist. But as you slid your sleeves down lower to your wrists and shrug it off completely... he'd be seeing more scars. Patterned, and much too neatly placed, to be a result of careless fighting.

"Angel..." you heard him breathe out, a mixture of shock, disbelief, and sorrow.

And only then did you open your eyes, meekly searching for his.

"...I— I haven't done it in weeks!" Damage control. "I'm clean, right now, but... If I don't— If I don't work, I don't— I don't know—"

Before you could break down in tears again, Xavier gently pulled you into his arms, sighing into your hair. "If you don't work, you won't have anything to distract yourself with?" he whispered softly.

You closed your eyes at his warmth, and you nod.

"But... Can I ask you why?"

It was this question that got you to tense up, enough for him to notice.

"I want to help, princess," he looked softly into your eyes as he pulled back slightly, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face. "But... I need to know how. Would you let me? Could you... Tell me? Is that okay?"

The mere fact that he wanted to help made you want to sob.

He was so... nice to you.

So kind, so patient—

You didn't deserve it.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, and you screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. "'M sorry," you choked out, and Xavier immediately held you close.

"No, princess... I'm sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I should have known... I shouldn't have gotten upset at you..."

Tears slid down your face, and you buried your face into his chest. His words churned at your stomach with a heavy feeling you didn't know how to describe. "That's not true," you whimpered. "It's... It's me. I'm always a burden... Always having to make you worry, when you've been trying your best to take care of yourself but I can't even keep a simple promise—"

You began to sob into his sweater. "Why, Xavier? I feel... I feel so worthless. How could I deserve you? How could I deserve anything you give me? And how... How could I be so selfish to want more of it?" You grip him tightly, almost digging into the back of his sweater as everything begins to pour out. "It feels... It feels as if no matter what I do... Nothing ever makes me any worthier of your love. Of anyone's."

And Xavier listened.

He didn't interrupt you, didn't speak—

He listened.

He placed his hand over your back, rubbing softly into your exposed skin, letting you speak until his consistent motions helped you relax slightly in his hold. And after a few moments of your sniffling, he gently peeled you away, before bringing you in for a soft, quick kiss.

Your eyes, blurred with tears, looked up at him confused.

"Nothing can change the way I feel about you, angel," he murmured sweetly. "You do deserve everything, and even more than that. You've done nothing wrong, princess. Don't apologize to me. I worry about you because I want to worry about you... Because I choose to worry about you." He softly placed a hand on your cheek. "Do you remember what I told you? I meant it when I said that. You are special to me. And I want to do everything in my power to protect you, to keep you by my side... to make sure you're okay. I'm sorry that I was so cold to you earlier. I'll be a better source of comfort for you now, I... I'm here, angel. I won't leave."

You remained sniffling as he spoke, and your eyes slowly drifted back down to your lap.

But you found the courage to speak.

"The banquet..." you whispered. "I... I don't want to go."

"Then don't. We don't have to."

"But... But Tara, and Jenna—"

"They won't mind, we won't be the only ones not going, right?"

You looked up, uncertain still. "...And you?"

"Me?"

"You... you said you wanted to go..."

At this, Xavier's eyes softened, and a gentle smile played at his lips. "Well... We could tell them I wouldn't let you leave me... And it wouldn't totally be a lie."

When your gaze had yet to relax, he shook his head with a little laugh. "It's less about the place and the activities... and more about the person you do them with. Remember?" He tucked your hair behind your ear and whispered softly, reassuringly. "Whatever we do, wherever we go, I'll want to be there. Because you would be with me. So if you want to go to the banquet, then I'd want to go to the banquet. But if you want to spend the night here, then I would also want nothing more."

You sniffled again, tears streaming down your cheeks as you felt your chest burst with warmth.

You truly felt so... loved. So seen, so heard, so understood—he was right; you should have gone to him for comfort when all of this had started, instead of trying to distance yourself from everyone you loved.

Xavier reached over to wipe your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

"Shh, don't cry angel..."

And then he leaned down to kiss you, nice and slow, and so soft, and loving. His lips moved delicately; nothing like the passionate kisses you sometimes shared, and for a while the both of you stayed that way. Just soft, fond kisses as he helped your body relax into him, relax into the couch, removing all the tension you had built up in your shoulders.

When you pulled away, you let out a soft sigh. He shifted and pulled you back against his chest, stroking your hair and murmuring sweet words of how much he loved you; how much you meant to him.

And you had never felt so... at peace, before. All these past weeks dealing with the void in your mind that you couldn't chase away—but here, in his arms, it was all minimized. Calm. Your thoughts weren't as scalding as they usually were.

You felt... Safe.

"Better?" he mumbled.

"...Yeah."

You closed your eyes.

There was another quiet silence before you felt him trace the scars on your arm.

"Wish I could help you relax more, make you feel more loved..." he mumbled.

You shook your head. "Despite everything I said, I already feel loved, Xavi, don't feel pressured to—"

"I'm not pressured."

There was determination in his voice when he said this, and you let out a soft, barely-there chuckle.

"Yeah," you smiled, "okay."

And he continued to trace over your scars.

"Angel?"

"Hm?"

"Do you still have thoughts right now?"

"Mmmh... A little bit. Yeah."

You tilted your head up to look at him, searching his eyes. "But... They're not so loud. This is... Comforting."

"Comforting?"

"Yeah. Staying in your arms like this..." Your eyes softened. "You're pretty comforting, Xavier."

"...But, do you... want a distraction?"

His eyes didn't stray away from yours, but you felt his fingers trail from your arm to your stomach, light, feathery strokes upwards towards your clothed breasts.

His intentions clicked, and you felt yourself blush slightly.

"Xavier..." you mumbled.

He didn't do anything more than stroke your exposed skin, never going further than you had given permission for him to.

But he asked you again, more clearly this time.

"...I could touch you," he gave you a small, faint smile. "If you want? At least... You wouldn't be thinking of anything too much that way..."

His voice trailed off as he noted your lack of response, and then he reached over to squeeze your hand.

"We don't have to do anything, angel. It was just a suggestion."

"...No, I— It's okay." Immediately, you shook your head. "You... You could definitely do that." You felt yourself get breathless at the thought of it, and you leaned back against him.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

You weren't looking at him in that moment, but you could feel him smile as he placed a soft kiss into your hair.

"Okay. Then... I'll make you feel good, angel."

It was a promise, and one that you knew he could fulfil easily.

You felt him tilt your chin up next, your eyes meeting once more, and then he kissed you. Still soft, still slow; his lips moved languidly against yours as if to ease you into it. You felt butterflies in your stomach—this was a kiss that you knew very well from him, and one that you both knew you loved. It was a kiss that said more than just "i love you"; it was a kiss that said "i like being here with you", a kiss that said " let's stay like this forever".

It was a testament—that Xavier was yours, and you were his, and he would show you that he loved you more than you would ever realize.

Slowly, you pulled back from the kiss, the both of you panting. But you didn't look away, and neither did he—not even as his hands moved lower to undo the buttons or your jeans, not even as you lifted your hips for him to pull them down.

"Do you want them off?" he mumbled, still keeping his eyes on yours. "Want you to be comfortable."

"...Mhm. S'okay. I needed to change, anyway..."

When he'd helped you out of your jeans, his lips were back on yours once more—hands gently stroking your sides, tracing your wounds, and your scars, taking his time with you. Your eyes fluttered closed. Xavier's touches were so sweet, so comforting. They could lull you into sleep, and he was right; there was no more space for you to think of any other thoughts that weren't just... him.

When he reached over to unclasp your bra, he let it fall off to the side. And then he leaned his chin over the top of your head, almost as if to get a better look.

"Haven't seen these before," he commented, a little cheekily.

You rolled your eyes—if you weren't nestled so comfortably in his embrace, you'd have reached up to hit him in indignance. "...Don't act all innocent," you mumbled.

"Hm? Wasn't acting, angel." He cupped your breasts, humming slightly, still keeping his eyes on them. You felt him gently massage them in his hands, and you let out a sigh. "They're so soft. It's different from touching them through your shirt."

"Xavier..."

He chuckled, leaning back up to give you another kiss. "I know. This... is why you've always wanted to keep your shirt on, right? Your... scars."

You felt your stomach churn with guilt for a split second, before your body shuddered and melted into the way his hands worked at your chest.

"...D- didn't want you to know..." you breathed out. "'S not easy to say..."

"I know. But thank you for telling me, angel. You can tell me anything, alright? We'll work through this together."

Together. We.

He wasn't saying that it was... your problem. He was saying it was on the both of you—that you weren't alone, and that he would be with you every step away... And it was such a sweet thing for him to say. His words touched your heart, and you felt yourself letting out a shaky breath.

"...Okay," you whispered. "Okay."

He leaned back down to suckle over your collarbone, then, nibbling gently over your skin. It was enough to draw out a soft moan from you.

"Ah... That feels nice..."

In response, his fingers brushed over your nipples. The sudden direct stimulation made you gasp—

And you understood what he meant.

It was different, like this. Now, without any fabric as a barrier, the pads of his fingers rubbed oh-so-perfectly over your little nubs, and it felt... good.

Better than you were used to.

Xavier hummed as he rest his head back on your shoulder, watching the way your breasts molded into his palm, your nipples pert and hard as he began to twist and pinch them in his hands.

"They're pretty up close," he stated again, a little matter-of-factly. "We should do this more often..."

Another pull at your nipples, and you moaned.

"Mmh, shit—yes—"

You wanted to retort, but instead, you found yourself arching your back further into his hands. Your eyes clouded over slightly.

"Yeah? Feels nice?" he murmured.

"Mhm... Feels real nice, Xav..."

He nuzzled into your neck, a soft, loving action despite what he was doing to your body.

"D'you think you could cum like this? Or do you need more?"

His motions remained steady as he spoke, his eyes flitting over your figure. And you, on the other hand, felt your breath come out in a long exhale.

You closed your eyes.

"...More."

And he smiled.

You could feel it, the way the corners of his lips turned up against your skin where he placed light kisses on the base of your neck. And then he kept one hand on your breast, his other hand began to trail slowly down your stomach.

Your body jolted slightly at the change, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps before they settled over your thigh. His hand stayed stationed there, squeezing it gently... Never quite moving upwards, not just yet. He was still quite far from where you wanted him like this, and you huffed with displeasure.

"Can I tease?" he asked, and you could feel his smile widen.

You groaned.

"No! M'already wet."

"But I want to take my time with you, princess. You're so... beautiful."

The way he moaned in your ear, kneading your thighs, made you shiver with excitement. He'd been asking you if he could tease... Yet here he was, already doing it anyway.

You grit your teeth. "I need you, Xavi."

"But... Please? It'll prolong the pleasure, you know?"

"...Why are you begging me?"

You scoffed this time, and he chuckled, his breath hitting the shell of your ear.

"I just like the way your body responds to me. You know that."

Once again, you felt that you could have smacked him on the head if you had any remaining ounce of control over your body, but you only bucked your hips forward in a failed attempt to chase his fingers. The way he laughed at you made you glare at him indignantly—It was almost like a little apology on his part when he leaned in for a quick, quick kiss, his hand sliding just a little bit further up your thigh.

"I love you, okay, angel?" he sighed. "Just... wanted to let you know that, again."

You huffed slightly.

"I know, Xavier. And I love you. But as much as I want to say thank you, I just really, really need your fingers inside me. ...Please?"

Impatience was not a look you favored on yourself, but Xavier didn't mind it—he never minded if you preferred to be quiet, or vocal, or demanding, or receptive... Xavier, despite the way he would tease, had always been driven by the need to please you.

So he finally complied with your request.

You felt him gently bring your knees up closer to your chest, feet close together before he pushed your knees apart, and then he let out a low groan. With you spread out effectively for him, he reached over to gather your slick onto his finger.

"So beautiful for me, angel," he nibbled on your ear, making you shiver. "And so, so wet."

In response, you moaned, allowing your head to lull slightly to the side as he spread your juices all over your cunt in gentle strokes. "I told you," you spoke in a hushed tone.

"Hmm... and what's on your mind now, angel?" His breath was still so close to your ear as he spoke, his tone low, and raspy—sultry, like it always was when you did things like this.

"You."

You didn't hesitate to answer, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp when his middle finger slid inside with a wet squelch.

"Mhm? And?"

"...Y- your fingers..."

He slowly dragged his finger out before thrusting back in, his breath hot and heavy. You could feel him smile.

"Anything else, angel?"

He could have almost been cooing at this point, and it was driving you insane. You groaned in frustration, lifting your hips slightly as if to get from him the stimulation you needed.

"Nothing," you moaned as you felt his thumb reach up to brush against your clit. Slow, thrusting motions, and occassional rubs—it was driving you insane. "N-nothing else, Xav, just— just how good you're making me feel—"

He let out a satisfied chuckle then, drawing his finger out and having then drip with your arousal:

"Good."

Your eyes flew wide open as he thrust back into you, moving his finger relentlessly inside as if to explore your walls. It was barely seconds before his index finger pushed right inside your tight hole as well, filling you up in a way that you couldn't do to yourself. His fingers were so long, so much better than your own, and no matter how many times he fingered you, you could never, ever tire of it.

He picked up the pace as your hips met his thrusts.

"F- fuck!" you cursed, panting as he did just that with his fingers, his thumb still circling over your clit, his other hand still avidly toying with your breast and your nipple.

The combined stimulation clouded your brain; he felt so damn good. If, when he'd just started, he had already chased away any foreign thoughts—now, your mind had nearly frozen white. Your mouth hung open as a testament to your pleasure, and he panted into your ear all the same, almost as if he were just as affected.

His fingers continued to pump into you, stretching you wide, curling against your sensitive spot, rubbing you in all the right places. Your legs began to shake, and he lightly licked at the shell of your ear.

"Close?" he murmured, having already memorized the telltale signs of the onset of your orgasm.

You could only nod, choking back a moan.

And then his lips were back on yours.

A little more frantic in his kisses this time, as he fucked you harder with his fingers, pinching and pulling and rolling your nipples—

"M-mmf—!"

You let out a muffled moan, swallowed into the kiss as you came. Your back arched, your body shuddering; a wave of pleasure came crashing into you with such force that it had you feeling shocked.

When he pulled back, the both of you were panting, your eyes clouded and hazy, his fingers wet and sticky when he slid them out of your cunt.

"...Better, princess?" he whispered, and there was another cheeky, cheeky grin on his face.

You smiled back at him, and he leaned over to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Much."

With a soft chuckle, he continued to place light, feathery all over your face, easing you out of your high, until your breathing became calmer.

"I could take you to your room," he mumbled, feeling you close your legs and cuddle into him. "Are you cold?"

"Cold? After you've just made me cum?" You scoffed, somewhat, but willingly clung to his arms. "I'm okay. But... The bed would be nice..."

Another kiss into your hair, another soft smile. "Okay."

He had you carried in his arms the next moment, soft footsteps padding the floor to your bedroom and gently laying you over your mattress. He took a few moments to wipe you down, before he drew your blanket up over your body, and slipped in to lay right beside you. He shifted your head to rest on his shoulder.

"Tired?" he hummed.

A pause, and then,

"...Yeah, kind of." You closed your eyes as you relaxed into his warmth. "But, you haven't done anything... You could put it inside me—or I could suck you off, or—"

He immediately cut you off as he gave you a small frown, and then before you could react, he kissed you almost harshly—as if to shut you up.

"Mmf— Xavier!" you gasped when you pulled away, your frown mirroring his own. "What was that for?"

"You said you were tired."

"...Huh?"

"Why would you expect me to do any more if you said you were tired?"

You searched his expression to realize that his frown was rooted instead in confusion, rather than disdain or disapproval.

"...But... Isn't it unfair...? If you just let me sleep like this..."

"...Do you want to, angel?" A small pout formed on his lips. "I'm alright like this. It's unfair if I force you when you don't want to. You should rest, if you're tired. This doesn't have to be... transactional, you know? We can do more when you want to."

The use of the word 'transactional'made you flush slightly with embarrassment, as you realized that was likely how you'd made it seem—you shook your head immediately. But his words, at the same time, gave you the space to lay back against his chest, wrapping your arms around him as the sound of his heartbeat seemed to lull you peacefully.

"...Sorry," you whispered. "I didn't mean it that way. I know our sex isn't like that..."

You sighed. "I'll... I'll sleep for a bit, then? But... thanks, Xavi."

You felt him place another kiss into your hair, a fond, loving gesture, as he shifted to hug your body tightly against his.

"I'll be right here when you wake up."

It was a promise; a genuine one.

Xavier wasn't going to leave you alone, no matter how many times your mind would bug you to think that way.

And you trusted him, and you loved him... and he had shown the same back to you—now, and always.

A tiny little smile made its way to your face as your eyelids fluttered close.

"I love you, Xavier," you whispered. "Thank you."

⁺₊ / an: inspired by xavier's 4★ card pair, "shining light" and "shining traces" !! i think we underestimate how cold and intimidating xavier can really get because if he was angry at me i too would wish the ground would swallow me whole 😭

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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passionwillow · 4 months ago

Note

Gibbs bending reader over the boat in the basement

Smiling giggling kicking my feet

SMUT BELOW 18+, age gap reader.

Seeing you trot down into the basement wearing sweatpants and one of his hoodies sends Gibbs over the edge every time.

You don't try to tease him, at least you claim. But you know what's coming the second you wander over as he's working on the boat.

His blue eyes roam over your body, beautiful to him even obscured by baggy clothing. Your sweet, sleepy smile made his skin break out in goosebumps as you lean into him, eyeing the boat.

"How's it coming along?" you ask, hand running over the wood. He slips his arm around your waist and holds you to his side, eyes still admiring your features. "It's coming.. What're you still doing up?"

"I missed you." You smiled up at him and blushed at the gaze that met you. Blue eyes a shade darker, pupils dilated, hand inching its way under your (his) hoodie. "I missed you, too," he almost whispered, fingers tracing up your spine. He knew just how to touch you to make you squirm, make you arch ever so slightly into him.

His cheeky smirk made you huff and blush, but he silenced any thoughts in your head with a kiss. His lips were soft and slightly chapped as they moved with yours, his hand moving to your cheek as the other slid down into your sweats.

His rough, calloused hand moved under the fabric of your sweats, his breathing suddenly hitched as he roughly grabbed your ass. "No panties, huh?" he purred against your lips. Your answering grin made him chuckle, lips moving to your cheek as he whispered.

"Naughty girl."

He turned you and pressed you into the frame of the boat, mouth gliding along your throat and nipping at the skin. His hands slowly pushed your sweats over your hips and ass as he drank in your soft whines and moans, fingers tracing the soft flesh of your thighs.

"Turn around. Bend over."

His soft but firm tone made you shiver, and you quickly turned and bent over the wooden slats, biting your lip as the cool air brushed your exposed pussy. The sensation was short lived as you felt his fingers brush through your folds, inhaling shakily as his middle finger circled your clit. "Look how wet you already are, and I've barely touched you," he teased.

"Please-.. Jay, please don't tease me.." you begged softly, trying to spread your legs wider. These damn sweats, why didn't he take them off-

"But it's so fun," he purred, finger still relentlessly rubbing your sensitive bud. You could feel yourself growing more and more wet, clinging to the wood underneath you as you squirmed and whined. He collected your juices on his fingers before easing two of them into you, smirking at your soft moans as he stretched you.

How you were always so tight amazed him. He curled his fingers and pushed them as deep as he could, cursing soft as your walls fluttered around his digits. "Atta girl, look at you. So hungry for me, huh?" he cooed, his free hand undoing his jeans and shoving them down enough to free himself.

You started to lift your head and look back at him, hungry to see his cock, but he wasted little time. His cock replaced his fingers inside you, a choked groan leaving your throat as he stretched you. Oh god, you never got used to it.

He squeezed your hip as he buried himself inside you, breathing quick and labored as he slid his other hand under his hoodie and over your back. "Christ, darling, you feel so good," he rasped, his tip practically kissing your cervix.

"Please, baby, I need you. Need you to- please.." you finished weakly, trying your best to grind back into him. He normally would have teased you, told you to use your words, but the way you were soaking him right now.. Your walls clenching and fluttering.. He wasn't going to make it.

He started thrusting slow and deep, deep grunts leaving his throat as you clung to the wood of the boat. The drag of his thick cock inside you, the stretch as he bottomed out in your pretty little pussy.. You were a whimpering, moaning mess.

Gibbs had long gotten over the fact he was quite a bit older than you. The way he could make you squirm and beg, the way you were dripping and soaked before you touched you.. He was quite proud he could make you fall apart.

The way you were falling apart now, as he picked up the pace and fucked you from behind. Watching your generous ass bounce as he worked into you, watching your thighs tremble from the overwhelming pleasure.

Your cries and moans were music to his ears. The way he was practically abusing your cervix, the slap of his balls of your clit.. God, you couldn't get enough. And his voice..

"Such a good girl, you look so pretty right now." "That's my girl, let me hear you." "So wet right now, look at that."

You could feel your wetness sliding down your inner thigh. Gibbs couldn't tear his gaze away from your drenched cunt, the way you were soaking his cock and how well you were fitting him. He gave your left cheek a sharp slap before leaning over your trembling form, admiring the way you moaned at the slap and practically pushed your hips back to him.

"Such a dirty girl, huh?" he growled out, bracing his hand on the boat as his other hand slid around between your legs, rubbing your clit and smirking at the wanton moan that left your pretty lips. "That's it, sweetheart. Cum for me. Cum on my cock." The overstimulation, his voice urging you on.. You clenched around him and fell apart in moments.

He was unrelenting as you came beneath him, thrusting hard and abusing your little bundle of nerves until you were shaking and overstimulated. He pushed deep as he came a moment later, growling and grunting as he filled you. He was thankful everyday you got your IUD.

You were always shocked how quickly he pulled himself together after. He was slipping out and grabbing a clean towel to clean you up before fixing your sweats, tucking himself away and kissing your cheek as you stood up, legs unsteady.

"I hope you don't think we're done yet," he teased with a grin.

#ncis #ncis x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x plus sized! reader #gibbs #jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader

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thanksbutno98 · 6 months ago

Text

Change

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price struggles with missing his children growing up so fast.

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing, not edited.

——————

It was approaching noon on this picturesque spring day. The sun was out, not a cloud in sight, and the birds were chirping their usual tune. The light breeze rustled the leaves in the tree tops where Evelyn Price was stationed. She sat in her treehouse reading her latest book. She had her hair tied up in a high ponytail and wore blue jeans and her favorite bright pink t-shirt with a small rhinestone heart in the center.

The kitchen timer she had nicked from the stove lightly beeped. In a flash the young girl was turning off the timer, dog earing her page and tossing the book on the floor next to her. Crawling towards the only window in the sturdy wooden structure Evelyn snatched her father’s binoculars that she had also ‘borrowed’ for this specific occasion. Pressing the cool plastic to her face she began to survey her yard.

She could see you through the bay window cooking lunch with her little sister, Lily, on your hip. You looked to be dancing around and singing to whatever music you had popped on. Turning her attention to the drive Evelyn patiently waited.

“Daddy!” The sweetest voice echoed through the breezy afternoon air.

John took in the sight of his home, feeling an immense weight lift off of him to finally be back. He realized as he got to the top of his long driveway that the chicken coop in the far corner would need some repairs. What he hadn’t noticed was his little girl peering from the tree tops right above the coop in her treehouse with his binoculars, waiting to see his car pull up the drive. The sight of his old beat up truck had her sprinting out of the structure he built and down the ladder, jumping from much higher than you would have approved of.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Waving her arms in the air the little girl was doing everything she could to get her father’s attention.

The light wheeze of the truck door shutting was followed by bare feet thudding quickly against the grass. This spring afternoon turned brighter for Evelyn Price at the arrival of her father. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze lit up her tingling skin. Her little legs worked hard to get her from the farthest point of the backyard where the treehouse was to the driveway where her father stood.

John stood at the front of his truck with a beaming smile as he watched his seven year old sprint as fast as she could toward him. This was the best feeling for the military man. A warm welcome from his child who clearly missed him as much as he missed her. It was what made deployment worth it and I caused him to hug a little tighter and love a little harder. Somehow seeing her ponytail fly in the wind and those big blue eyes made his body stop aching and all the tension from deployment wash off as if he was doused with a bucket of ice water.

Dropping his duffle bag to the ground John was ready to squat down and pick his first little girl up, spin her around to hear her amazing laugh, and roughly kiss her cheek. Only, the little girl tripped a few yards away and fell face first into the grass with a smack. She fell so hard her feet and legs flung up behind her showing off how dirty her bare feet were.

“Oh shit.” John quickly dashed over to Evelyn who had her face smushed into the grass.

“OW!” Evelyn’s voice whined while she moved to get up, one hand rubbing her forehead.

Most children would cry or make a huge stink about taking a hard tumble; but not John’s kids. He taught them from a young age that no matter how hard you fall you dust yourself off and get back up. Before Evelyn knew it her body left the ground and she was picked up and jostled on to her father’s hip. The pain seemed to wash off her as their blue eyes met.

“You okay?” John asked, brushing his hand over her hair and inspecting her forehead which took the brunt of the blow. There was a tiny bit of panic hidden in his voice but ultimately culminated in a chuckle he tried to hold back.

Without answering Evelyn went from rubbing her reddened forehead to flinging her arms around John’s neck. She hugged him as tight as she could finding the comfort she had missed so much the past month in his arms.

Inhaling deeply John hugged his daughter tight and rubbed her back lovingly. He could feel how tense she was and after a moment she seemed to relax against his chest.

“I missed you.” John whispered into her ear. His left hand came up and played with her ponytail that was much shorter than he remembered.

“You get a hair cut?” John asked in which he could feel Evelyn nod in affirmation. She never liked having her hair short so it was strange seeing the normally mid back length ponytail come up to just the nape of her neck.

The cutest giggle left Evelyn as she pulled back and placed her small hands on John’s hairy cheeks. Pushing them together Evelyn squished John’s face and started to laugh loudly when he crossed his eyes to make a silly face at her.

“Missed you too, daddy.” Evelyn hugged John around the neck again. Attempting to put her down did not go well as she fussed dramatically. So, John carried her and his duffle bag into the house.

“Mummy’s cooking lunch.” Evelyn informed John as he walked through the back door.

She was right, and there you were, with one year old baby Lily on your hip. Lily was dressed in only a light orange short sleeve onesie with white foxes decorating it. You had your hair tied up, wearing athletic shorts and a new t-shirt John had never seen. It was fitted and had your favorite artist on the front which John could only glance at when you turned around. Music filled the house like it almost always did when you were cooking but John didn’t recognize the album. It was still your favorite artist, he could tell that much but they must have released new music you hadn’t shown him yet.

“Hi.” You sighed out at the sight of John. Having him back home was all you wanted and in an instant the weight of doing the parenting all alone was lifted.

Your face warmed and you felt your heart beat flutter at the sight of the man you loved so dearly. He was holding your daughter who was wrapped around him like a serpent with her head resting in the crook of his neck. John had his signature charming smile plastered across his rugged face as he dropped his faded green duffle back to the ground.

John looked tanner and his bucket hat more sun faded. The fitted green t-shirt he wore was tighter around his shoulders and biceps, showing off how Johns muscles were more toned than when he first left. The way his shirt tucked into his beige cargo pants made it seem like his waist was slimmer and you knew once you got him naked later tonight he would rival a Greek god. You saw it as one of the few perks of John being deployed, he would come back all muscular and then you would set to work to pack on a slight layer of fat from all your cooking. You loved seeing John go from ripped to having a bit of pudge around the edges because it meant he had been home for a while.

“Hello, darling. You look beautiful.” John breathed out the words and set Evelyn down who tried to protest.

Lily took a minute to realize who was here and once she saw her daddy was home she shrieked in joy then began to cry. Quickly John made his way over to you and kissed you swiftly before scooping Lily into his arms to help soothe her. It may have been a fleeting kiss but it was undeniable how sparks flew between you two.

“We’ll have a proper hello soon.” John promised you but you didn’t mind. Yes, you wanted to be wrapped up in his arms and stay there for hours. But, seeing him holding your little girls and already falling right back into being a father was making you fall in love all over again. You would get him all to yourself when the kids were asleep.

“Hello, there. You’ve filled out quite a bit.” John squished her chubby thigh and cooed at Lily who was crying pathetically into his chest. She rubbed her face back and forth leaving a trail of spit behind on a John’s once clean shirt. Your little girl was quite dramatic which was incredibly endearing until it wasn’t.

Rubbing her back John turned to you to say something snarky but he was stopped. Suddenly a burning, wet, pinch lit up his left pectoral muscle. It went from a pinch to stinging painfully. Pulling Lily away so she was at arms length, she had stopped crying but had a pout on her face and crocodile tears daring to spill from her sapphire eyes. John’s face was twisted in pain and shock as he glanced between the oval wet spot on his shirt from having just been bitten to his curly haired baby.

“You have teeth now!?” John spoke completely exasperated.

“Think that’s pay back for being gone so long.” You snickered.

Sitting Lily on the kitchen island John stuck his fingers into her mouth to inspect how many teeth she had gotten. Surprisingly she was docile while John took a look. There were three, two bottom, one canine, and it looked like her front tooth was just about to poke through.

“Wash your hands before you do that.” You scolded pulling John’s hand away by his wrist. The last thing you two needed was a sick baby.

“Since when does she have teeth?” John’s face looked so cute to you. He seemed floored that Lily had grown so much but you wondered what he was expecting.

“Right when you left. She got all three at the same time so you’re lucky you missed that. We had a very upset Lily who let us know how much her poor little teeth hurt.” Running your fingers through Lily’s mop of curls you admired how much she looked like John, down to the freckle on her nose.

John didn’t feel lucky. He wanted to be here for first teeth, he wanted to be home for first everything’s. It stung and the memory of missing Lily’s birth started to invade his mind. This was a guilt he was desperately trying to leave behind. You two had gone to couples therapy to work through it and in time you had forgiven John as much as you could; but it would always be a reminder of what could be missed in his absence.

“Yeah! Lily got a fever and mummy had to wake us up and take us all to hospital in the middle of the night.“ Evelyn said in a cheery tone as she hung off John’s waist.

“You had to get the kids up in the middle of the night?” Guilt immediately creeped up John’s throat at the thought of you having to handle all that on your own. If he were home you would have stayed back with the kids and he would have taken Lily to the hospital or vice versa.

“It was an adventure. Nothing to feel bad about.” Kissing John’s cheek he knew you well enough you were trying to make sure he didn’t feel bad. One of the notes you had taken from couples counseling was to not punish John by being snarky or passive aggressive; but to be kind so he could start forgiving himself.

“Doctor said it was teething so it was quick. We came home and all snuggled in bed.” The toss away comment didn’t do much to make John feel better.

“Did I miss anything else?” With Lily now on his hip and snuggling up to him, John wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. You could feel this hug was suppose to comfort you but you didn’t need comforting. That didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy being tucked into Johns side.

“Mummy dinged the car when we were getting sweets at the bakery.” Evelyn slyly added.

John gave you a raised eyebrow, choosing not to comment. You could have wrecked the car and he would give you a pass for how guilty he felt at the moment. You awkwardly laughed and avoided his gaze.

“Yeah you’ll have to fix that with a bit of paint.” Patting Johns shoulder you slipped from his hold and went back to finishing up lunch.

“Do you and your brother want to help me fix that?” The questions was met with a wide toothy grin and an enthusiastic nod of Evelyn’s head.

“Where’s J?” John asked, making his way to pop Lily in her high chair for lunch.

“He’s in the bath. Someone pushed him into the pond.” Giving Evelyn a sharp look she returned it with a very innocent looking one.

“I’m pretty sure he fell.” Sounding as sweet as she could John cast a look at his ponytailed girl and chuckled knowing she was absolutely fibbing.

“If I didn’t see you push him I might’ve believed you.” Not bothering to turn around you started to plate up the pasta with veggies and sauce that you made. You made sure to give John an extra large helping with extra Parmesan cheese.

“Dad!” Jj’s voice cut through the air.

The little boy was quick to bolt toward his father who was standing by Lily’s high chair. It took John a second to process seeing his boy standing so much taller and with a new hair cut. Flinging himself at John, Jj hugged him as tight as he could. John squatted down a second later to hug him back until he pulled away and ruffled his damp hair.

“Everyone get a haircut?” He asked before putting Jj into a head lock. The two wrestled around for a bit while you handed Evelyn her food and brought the other plates to the table.

“Knock it off you two, before you-“ Unable to get the full sentence out John bumped into you with Jj struggling with all his might to weasel out of the headlock. Lily’s plastic bowl smacked straight out of your hand and on to the floor with a thud; pasta and red sauce splattering everywhere. The two of them froze both locking eyes with your frustrated gaze then down at the mess all over the tiled floor.

“Make a mess.” You finished.

“Sorry.” John quickly blurted out, letting go of Jj.

“Sorry, mum.” Jj was quick to add.

You didn’t bother telling John to pick it up. The stern look you shot him had him heading for the cleaning supplies while you got Lily more food. Jj didn’t waist a second to go sit down and start eating, narrowly avoiding being the one you were cross with. Him and Evelyn both shared amused looks and started whispering how they missed seeing their dad get in trouble. Their giggles picked up in volume once John was on his hands and knees cleaning. Normally it would annoy John and he would tell them to knock it off but he hadn’t heard those giggles in far to long, and he was going to soak them up.

It was amazing to be home for this man who had just spent the past month under the beating sun, weighed down by tactical gear and life and death decisions. Surrounding himself with what he felt were the most important people helped his fried nerves and anxiety diminish. The feeling of your stealing his hat off his head, fingers scratching through his hair as you walked by made it all better.

John was content sitting down in his usual spot at the head of the kitchen table, with you to his right and Jj to his left. Lily was caddy cornered between you and John while Evelyn was sat to your right.

“Wow, she’s really downing that.” John watched in awe as his one year old scarfed down the food from the little bowl on her high chair trey. Lily’s face was covered in red sauce, some even getting into her curly auburn locks.

“She eats like crazy now. One day to the next went from having my appetite to yours.” Your comment had John pausing. Watching Lily shove food into her tiny mouth, looking to Evelyn’s short ponytail, and Jj’s cropped haircut left John with a twinge in his chest. Jj sat taller than John remembered and Evelyn was looking more and more like you. Lily even had teeth now.

It had only been a month that John was gone but it felt like so much had changed in that short amount of time. His children hadn’t stopped growing and it seemed life wouldn’t wait for him in his absence. The fact was, John was missing out on the little things you saw everyday. It was starting to brew a strange type of jealously he had never felt before towards his wife.

“You okay?” You asked.

John went from looking excited at being home to solemn. Moments ago he was loudly laughing and messing with Jj but now his lips were pressed in a firm line and there was a crease between his thick eyebrows. You watched carefully before checking in on him. Those blue eyes you loved so much were analyzing your children closely as if he were picking them each apart.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” With a charming smile John batted your comment away unconvincingly. He even held your hand and gave it a squeeze to appease you.

To anyone else they wouldn’t notice the turmoil in John’s eyes and deep voice; but you did. He was struggling with something he was unwilling to tell you in this moment. With time you hoped he would come talk to you about it. Which could take days most times, unless you dragged it out of him.

“After lunch I want you two to play outside. I have to get Lily down and don’t need you two waking her up.” Lunch was finishing up and your request was met with obnoxious groans from your two oldest.

“None of that.” John gently corrected, taking his last bite.

“Why don’t you two play outside for a bit and I’ll handle Lily.” John glanced at his baby who went from devouring her food to now having her face pressed against the high chair trey and lightly snoring as she slept. She was adorable with food decorating her face and clothes and John knew she’d lose it once anyone made a move to clean her up.

“That way your mum can have a well deserved lay down. Then we can go out to the shop-“ John placed his hand by his mouth as if you wouldn’t be able to hear what he said next, then whispered “and get her a present.” This seemed to brighten your children’s mood.

You lightly chuckled to yourself pretending to not hear. Whatever present John and the kids came home with would hardly compare to the nap you were about to take. It had been too long since you had the kids taken off your hands and it reminded you why having John home was so amazing.

“Dishes in the sink, then run along.” John ordered with a smile splitting across his face.

Evelyn and Jj listened dutifully and made their way outside. John’s eyes caught sight of red sneakers slipping on to his son’s feet, his blue ones no where to be seen. Once Evelyn had her yellow sneakers on she tapped her toes against the ground to make sure they were on correctly. It was a little idiosyncrasy she did without notice. It helped John feel somewhat better in this moment that not everything was changing in his absence.

“New sneakers?” John asked you and nodded to Jj who was now running out in the yard with Evelyn behind him. He grabbed your empty plate and his own then loaded up the dishwasher.

“He outgrew the old ones.” You said as you fiddled with your phone, looking through some emails that had come through. There was a long pause before John spoke again.

“They’re growing like weeds.” It sounded like an off handed comment which was usually John’s tell. He never wanted to let on what he was upset about so it usually slipped out like this. It was his way of trying to convince himself it was ‘no big deal.’

“Not that much.” You cocked your head to the side as you watched John. The comment had you wondering if that might be what was bothering him.

John was expertly cleaning Lily up without waking her. His gaze was focused and hands steady. It looked as if he were diffusing a bomb and it honestly felt that way. Neither of you wanted a screaming Lily; out of all of your children she was the biggest handful at this age. If John could get her cleaned up and down for her nap smoothly you’d be extremely thankful. You already felt relieved to not be doing this on your own.

The two of you slowly stripped her out of her food stained clothes and brought her upstairs. It was a team effort to get her diaper changed and new clothes on while she slept soundly. By the time you tiptoed out of her room you and John released the breath you were holding.

“Good work, Captain.” You sighed out feeling relieved everything went so smoothly.

John had his eyes set on you and how exhausted you seemed to be. Maybe this month was harder on you than you let on. But it’s not like he had taken the time to ask or check in on you since he walked through the door. You two were swept up in being parents and he missed you, his wife, lover, best friend.

Taking you into his strong arms John didn’t say a word; he didn’t need to. You could feel in the way he held you close and nuzzled his bearded face against the side of your face that he needed you. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek you held him with just as much love and tenderness. Time seemed to slip by and soon enough you two had stood there for much longer than intended in each others arms.

“I missed you.” John’s words rumbled softly from his chest. Oh, how you missed his thick accent and gravely voice. It sent a shiver up your spine that ignited into fire works when his thick beard tickled your skin as he kissed you slowly.

“Can’t describe how much I missed you too.” You were getting choked up finally having what you had been craving for the past month. You weren’t one to cry before starting a family but now it seemed tears came easier.

“I’m sorry if things were tough without me.” John held you close as you both spoke in hushed voices outside Lily’s bedroom.

“It’s always tough without you.” You admitted.

“Will a lay down and a surprise from me and the kids help?” The smile was evident in John’s voice because he knew it would.

Looking up into his beautiful blue eyes you nodded slowly with a content smile on your face. The love radiating off of him made everything feel okay. That life would go back to normal and you would have his support again with more than just the kids. You’d have your best friend to chat with endlessly and goof around with. The partner who’d play the bad guy to the kids so it wasn’t always you, and your lover to hold you close through the night.

“C’mon, I’ll rub your back the kids can wait for a bit.” Nudging his head down the hall you giggled with excitement.

“Think we have time for a quickie?” You asked giving John a cheeky wink. His eyebrows shot up and he was eagerly shaking his head. That was not what he was expecting but he’d be mad to turn you down when he wanted you the second he caught sight of you.

“C’mon, no time to waist.” With a swift pat to your bottom you both scurried down the hall to your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

——————

Tapping his foot impatiently John stood in blue jeans, a light grey champion crewneck, and all white trainers. He ditched the hat since you had babbled about how you missed tugging on his hair; which you had done quite a bit before he left to go shopping. His hands were shoved in his pockets as the shopping was coming to an end but his daughter decided she needed to take her sweet time.

“Why are you learning every bone in the body?” John was staring down at Evelyn who had just rattled off an obscene amount of bones in the human body, starting from her toes and getting to her elbows.

“I’m gonna be a doctor one day. So I might as well learn them now. At least that’s what mum said, she’s been teaching me.” Evelyn spoke matter of factly as if John should know this. She was squatted down in front of one of the shelves filled with Lego products in the toy section.

“Of course your mum is. Since when do you want to be a doctor? Thought you wanted to be an astronaut.” Scratching the back of his head John could picture you and Evelyn sitting at the kitchen table studying together. You had probably made it into a game at this point and were having a grand time teaching Evelyn something you knew so well.

“Yeah but there’s no people to help in space. I wanna help people like you do but have a fancy diploma like mummy.” Evelyn was only confusing John further. It was flattering to hear she wanted to be like him in some aspects.

“You don’t need a fancy diploma like a PhD, Evie. You can help people without one.” John felt like he was talking to an adult at this point and giving career advice.

“Your Auntie Sarah helps people as a nurse and she doesn’t need one to do that.” John added.

The pressure of pursing a PhD was something he feared for his children. Having heard your experience John worried about any of his children putting that kind of pressure on themselves. It had fueled your need to be an over achiever to a point John found unhealthy at times. He also knew how tough the medical field was from his sister so he couldn’t help but worry.

“Yeah but no one says how smart you are. They talk about how mummy’s a ‘genius’ or a ‘really clever lady.’” Evelyn used air quotes as she continued to search the racks for a Lego set in the price range John agreed to. John’s face fell at her comment. No one could break a man’s confidence like his own children.

“I’m just as smart as your mum.” John countered sounding as offended as he felt.

“Sure you are.” The sarcasm was evident and John had half a mind to tell Evelyn she couldn’t get a Lego set for that one.

“Mums scary smart, dad. I swear she’s a witch with how she can read our minds. You know, we were sneaking ice cream yesterday and she told us to put it back all the way from upstairs! No clue how she knew. And you’re scary in a totally different way.” Jj joined the conversation having been helping search for a Lego set for Evelyn. He was holding a video game for his switch which John agreed to buy.

“I’m scary?” John sounded exasperated but then he thought about his question for a moment. He was large, intimidating and military; who could lose his temper, of course he was scary to kids. He just hoped he didn’t scare them too much. Jj and Evelyn glanced at each other then went back to searching the shelves.

“No.” They spoke in unison clearly smart enough to not answer John’s question honestly. John swore the kids had never been more like you than this moment.

“You two clearly take after your mother.” John sighed defeatedly, taping the bouquet of roses he held against his thigh.

“Means we’re clever too!” Evelyn cheered picking out a Lego set and showing it to her father for approval. It was a little bit more expensive but John shook his head and then waved for his kids to follow him to check out.

John stayed eerily silent as his two oldest teased each other until they were bickering. There were a few attempts from him telling them to knock it off but they only continued to argue. John sat in silence on the car ride home as the spat the two Price children had fallen into only intensified. This taste of normalcy was helping keep him calm, although it was annoying.

Hearing Evelyn say she now wanted to be a doctor seemed to be the final change that crushed John. Home and family felt off now, like he was here but in a slightly different version of reality. In such a short period the little things he usually adored about life had changed drastically. It felt like he didn’t know his children as well and then the dread of not knowing you like the back of his hand began to set in.

What if the gift he picked up for you was no longer something you would like? That this month apart had changed your taste and John wasn’t there to pick up on the subtle difference like he normally would. Would you resent him? Would it drudge up past feelings of abandonment that you two worked on in therapy?

“You okay dad?” Jj’s voice interrupted John’s train of thought.

“What?” John asked, seemingly out of it.

“Are you mad at us?” Evelyn followed up sounding hesitant which was unlike her.

The two had noticed they hadn’t gotten scolded to the degree they normally would for being mean to one another. Their father had been silent, hadn’t even turned on the radio like he usually did. Or got on their cases to get along or those toys he just bought would be taken before they were able to enjoy them.

“No, just stop with the bickering.” With a sigh John went back to quietly driving them all home.

“Okay.” Jj sounded apprehensive. John glanced at the rear view to see the two Price children whispering to each other in the back seat.

“Dad?” Jj asked after a few minutes of silence in the car.

“Yeah?”

“We think you should stop at the shop. So we can grab one more thing for mum” Jj said with a straight face. He sounded adamant as if John didn’t have a choice.

“Why, we already got her present?” Confused John glanced in the rear view again to see both his children with straight faces. Jj nudged Evelyn and she quickly added on.

“Please daddy.” Evelyn asked sweetly. She was using her cuteness to her advantage to persuade John. It almost always worked.

“Fine.” John sighed not having much fight in him to deny his children, especially when Evelyn asked so sweetly and called him ‘daddy’; which was becoming less common. The only reason he splurged and bought that Lego set and video game was because he felt guilty for being gone for so long.

Once at the local shop John unbuckled ready to head in and see what his children were going to insist on buying; he’d say yes regardless. After all it was for you and John would spend every penny he had if it meant putting a smile on your face.

“No! You wait. Jj and I want it to be a surprise.” Evelyn leaned into the front seat and stuck out her hand expecting money.

“What are you two up to?” Turning to look at his children John watched as Jj hoped out of the truck ready to head in without John. This wasn’t unusual. Sometimes laziness won out for John and he’d send one of his kids in to grab whatever they were stopping for.

“Nothing, just want it to be a surprise.” The logic seemed sound to John so he pulled out his wallet and handed over more money than necessary.

“What is it?” John asked but not sure why because he knew the question would be dodged.

“You’ll see.” Evelyn sang, kissed John’s cheek, then jumped out of the truck and her and her brother dashed into the shop. John saw them wave hello to Mrs. Finch who had come to know your family well with your frequent stops here.

Pulling out his phone John checked to see if you had texted or called which you hadn’t. With a large sigh John’s mind wandered to what his kids could possibly be buying for you. Maybe some snacks but it couldn’t be anything crazy. After a few minutes the two emerged with two plastic bags stuffed full. Jj took Evelyn’s bag so she could get in and then handed them to her and ran around to his side.

“Change please.” Sticking his hand over his shoulder and into the back there was a lapse of silence. Turning John looked at his children who were staring at him as if they were about to get in trouble.

“We spent it all.” Jj whispered.

“Don’t know what I was expecting.” John grumbled to himself before heading home.

——————

“Why are you here?” You asked John as you sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch. His large hand was mindlessly massaging your thigh.

“No clue.” He was looking past you down the hall to where your children were setting something up to bring you.

After coming home Jj and Evelyn ushered you both out of the kitchen and became shrill at your questions. You didn’t mind since you had just made Lily her bottle and planned on letting her feed herself while you scrolled on your phone. They instructed you to sit on the couch where Evelyn ran out and brought you both juice boxes. They took the present John got for you and told him they would bring it out but he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t be involved in setting up this surprise for you. He also didn’t feel like fighting them on this. John had been catering to every whim they had and wasn’t sure when he would finally put his foot down.

“How are you feeling?” You asked taking John’s hand in yours.

“Happy to be home.” John continued to look down the hall not wanting to make eye contact because it would give him away. Slowly you leaned into his line of sight with a big smile until he was forced to look at you.

“Please tell me.” It was suppose to be a question but it came out a little too demanding.

With a heavy sigh John knew he didn’t have it in him to argue with anyone in the house, let alone you. He was too tired after deployment and everything else today threw at him.

“They’ve grown so much since I left. Lily has teeth, Jj’s got new trainers, and Evie wants to be a bloody doctor now.” Staring at Lily John watched as she happily laid back in her rocker using one hand to hold her bottle while the other played with the toys dangling over her.

“Yeah, they’re kids they change a lot.” You spoke sympathetically hoping John wouldn’t get to wound up.

“Yeah and I’ve missed a lot.” There it was. The confession you needed to finally be able to aid your husband in his turmoil.

“But you also haven’t. You made it to the daddy daughter dance, Lily’s first birthday, you even coached Jj’s soccer team. When have you ever had time for that before?” Taking your hand you played with the short hair at the nape of John’s neck. Giving it a playful tug you hoped to maybe spark the memories from earlier when he had you wrapped in his arms and bare chest pressed to yours. John had stepped up so much and had been making so much work with his busy schedule. You had been immesnsley proud of him for not having his job come first at all times.

“Football, darling.” With a small smirk John glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Your words helped his ego if only slightly.

“Whatever, you know what I mean. You’re here for the moments that matter to them and that’s what means the world to me and to them.” You leaned forward trying to get John’s eyes on you so he could see how serious you were.

“I’m happy for that. Truly I am.” John took a long pause before he spoke again.

“But, it’s not enough for me. I want to be here and see the little things. Take Jj to get new shoes, convince Evie she doesn’t need to learn every bone in the body. . . Be here to take Lily to the doctors when she’s ill. I want to be here and I’m not.” It was like word vomit. Once John started it seemed like he couldn’t stop. It hurt yet felt relieving to get this off his chest, because he was telling you and somehow you always knew what to say.

“I’m sorry, John.” Instead of trying to convince John to feel differently you let him sit in this. You rubbed his back and rested your forehead against his neck.

“I want to be here with you too so you don’t end up resenting me. I can only imagine how you’ve changed in the little ways.” John was staring down at his hand holding yours, playing with your wedding ring.

“I don’t resent you.” With a dramatic sigh you continued.

“Well, I still suck at rough housing with the kids compared to you. I sometimes forget to eat and skip a meal without you here to remind me. I still sing in the shower. My favorite color hasn’t changed, neither have my favorite sweets or snacks. I sleep on the right side of the bed and fall asleep with the tv on too loud. The kids still drive me crazy on Sunday mornings when I just want to sleep in. And you’re the love of my life and will always be.” You spoke with a giddiness in your voice. It was endearing to you that John was worried you had changed in the time he had been away. It made you smitten that he cared so deeply about each one of his family on an individual level not just as a whole.

“So you haven’t changed?” John chuckled. Your response was so sweet to him it had him feeling lighter, like things didn’t need to be so heavy. You were more intoxicating than a stiff drink and knocked him on his ass stronger than a shot of whiskey. There was something about how effortlessly you could talk him off a ledge and ground him when his anxieties became overwhelming.

“Nope, still 100% me. So sorry, but you’re stuck with it.” With a swift kiss to his scruffy cheek you watched as John’s mood began to turn around. He just needed a final push.

“No one I’d rather be stuck to.” John kissed you hard and you melted into him.

“You’ll be stuck to me all night if I have anything to do with it.” You flirted getting a warm chuckle from John and a searing hot kiss.

“Ew! Stop it!” Jj shrieked from behind you two.

“Gross.” Evelyn mumbled.

Pulling away you saw both your children standing in the doorway of the living room. They were holding either side of the wooden trey you used to bring out snacks and drinks on movie nights. You couldn’t quite tell what was on it as it had a kitchen towel over it. They moved around the couch and then struggled to place it on the coffee table. John ended up standing and helping them place it in front of you both.

“Surprise!” They both cheered, pulling the towel off.

The biggest grin spread across your face as you took in the sight before you. This was no surprise for you.

It was for John.

His favorite crisps were overflowing from the large blue popcorn bowl, the candies he loved laid out, there was every type of biscuit John normally reached for, a pint of strawberry ice cream, a cup of tea with cream and sugar laid out, a blueberry pastry, a single cigar stolen from his truck, and a piece of green construction paper torn in half that read ‘Welcome Home!’ in blue marker.

“Welcome home.” You whispered to your very stunned husband.

Looking to him you thought he was getting misty eyed with the way his bottom lip wobbled slightly. Yes, your children were doing something sweet for their dad but you knew they had no clue just how much this meant to him. That the little things may have changed slightly for them but they hadn’t for John. They knew him well and that wouldn’t have been possible without the countless hours he’d spent with them and all the outings he took them on even when they didn’t want to go. That the love he had for them, they had for him. You and John knew they did this completely on their own which meant so much more.

“Come here you two.” John outstretched his arms signaling he wanted to hug them and the two practically threw themselves at him.

“I’m the luckiest dad in the world.” These words were spoken with the utmost sincerity. You watched as the most genuine smile took over John’s features having his children in his arms. Giggles erupted from Evelyn and Jj as John picked them both up so their feet left the ground and squeezed them tight before placing them back down.

“Now it’s time for your mums surprise.” Nodding his head towards the kitchen Jj ran out of the room and came back with a white envelope and bouquet of roses.

“Flowers are from me and Evie. Dad got you this.” With a cheery smile Jj handed over your gifts. He then busied himself by eating some of the crisps from the bowl along with John and Evelyn.

“Thank you.” You kissed your son on the cheek which he then pretend gagged and Evelyn happily came over for her smooch and hug.

“What ever could it be?” You joked to John thinking he had written you a heart felt card.

Opening up the envelop your face split into a huge smile and excitement shot through your veins. It was a gift card to your favorite spa and massage parlor. It was for a 90 minute massage, facial treatment, hair treatment, and mani pedi.

“Ugh, you have no idea how much I need this.” Throwing your head back you sighed.

Getting pampered sounded like absolute paradise right now. You were ready to jump for joy and pop champagne. After a month of doing it all on your own you desperately needed to get all those tight muscles worked out and focus on yourself.

“Thought you could use a day for some self care.” Taking his hand John rubbed your back. He chuckled when you kissed his cheek and then leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I’ll take very good care of you after this.” You purred and squeezed John’s bicep to emphasize your point. With a charming smirk he gave you a cheeky wink.

“I’m gonna call now to schedule this for tomorrow.” Pulling out your phone you stood and brought up the contact information for the spa.

“Tomorrow?” John sat up straight. He didn’t realize you would use it so quickly but that you two would chat about when was a good time for you to have a day to yourself.

“Yes, you four can figure something out for the day. Lily’s in charge.” You motioned to your children and Lily who was just finishing up her bottle.

“Darling, shouldn’t we do something together? As a family?” John was not ready to have all the responsibility thrown on him so fast. It was hectic enough to take the kids out shopping for an hour.

“We have all the time in the world to do something as a family. I only get so many days to myself and tomorrow is one of them.” You spoke assertively as you walked out of the room, phone pressed to your ear. John could tell there was no changing your mind and he would have to come up with something to entertain the kids. He would also be left to his own devices with a teething Lily which would be brutal.

“Will you share your candy?” Evelyn asked.

“Yes, go put this in the freezer before it melts.” Handing her the pint of ice cream John shoved a few crisps in his mouth before pulling out his phone to see what was open tomorrow to take the kids to. Having you occupied for the day wouldn’t be the worst. You coming home as relaxed as possible would honestly work in John’s favor in the long run.

“We could go to the trampoline park.” Jj was kneeling on the couch next to John and peering over his shoulder while munching on crisps.

“Sounds like a plan!”

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

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goldenherc9 · 3 months ago

Text

Herculean Gains: Arab Edition

For my great bro @musclejedi-tameem at his request, here ur transformation akhi

Tameem adjusted his thick glasses as he stepped into Herculean Gains, gripping his notebook filled with workout research. His oversized sweater hung off his skinny frame, and his jeans were a little too loose. He had read every fitness guide, studied every diet, but no matter what, he stayed the same—thin, awkward, and weak.

As he glanced around, he felt wildly out of place among the massive bodybuilders grunting and flexing in front of mirrors. Then, a deep, booming voice shattered his thoughts.

“Yo, akhi, what’s up with this skinny situation?”

Tameem turned and nearly choked. Standing before him was Hercules Gold, a legend in the gym world. With golden skin, bulging muscles, and a jawline sharp enough to cut steel, he looked like a god among men. His tank top barely covered his massive pecs, and his gym shorts revealed quads that belonged in a museum.

“I—I’m just here to—”

Hercules smirked. “Nah, bro, I already know. You’re trying to get huge, right?”

Tameem adjusted his glasses. “Uh, yeah, but—”

“Say no more.” Hercules pulled out a massive blue shaker, filled with a thick, shimmering liquid. “This is Himbo Juice, my dude. Special Arab edition—extra saffron for maximum gains.”

Tameem hesitated. “What’s in it?”

Hercules laughed. “Too many questions, bro. Just drink.”

Tameem sighed. He had tried everything else—what was one sip? He grabbed the bottle and took a deep gulp. The moment the liquid touched his tongue, heat exploded through his veins.

BOOM!

His arms surged outward, skinny twigs transforming into biceps the size of watermelons. His chest expanded, stretching his sweater to the limit until—RIIIIP!—it shredded into pieces, revealing thick, sculpted pecs and abs.

His jeans didn’t stand a chance. His legs grew like tree trunks, quads bursting through the fabric. His feet expanded, sneakers replaced with bright neon gym shoes. His glasses slid off his face as his jawline became sharper, his features more chiseled.

And then, his brain… slowed down. His thoughts became… simpler.

“Uh… bro?” Tameem muttered, blinking dumbly.

Hercules grinned. “Yeah, that’s it, akhi. No more nerd stuff. Just protein, flexing, lifting and looking hot.”

Tameem turned to the mirror, flexing, grinning. “Haha, bro, I look sick!”

Hercules clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the Himbo Life.”

Tameem laughed, his old self gone, replaced by pure muscle, arrogance, and gains.

--------‐-----‐--------------------------------------------------------

Wanna a tf then ask away with what ya want (more info the better) or DM me with it bros, i will do my best on the tf you want, time to transform mah dudes

#muscle tf #arab tf #ai muscle vid #jockification #Himbo Juice #male transformation #male tf #himbofication #himbo tf #Herculean Gains #Herculean Gains Arab Edition

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pankowperfection · 5 months ago

Text

Good Intentions

reposting because Tumblr doesn't like the old link

GIF by normatural

Summary: JJ keeps watch over you at a party, but decides he can't stay away anymore

Warnings: smut, mentions of drinking, mentions of drug use, oral (fem receiving), 18+

Being John B's younger sister meant inheriting the other pogues as family, regardless of whether you wanted them or not. They were basically siblings you'd never asked for, so while everyone was polite when you were all together, you weren't particularly close with any of them. Unfortunately, John B always dragged you out with them so you weren't just sitting at home alone and tonight that had meant going to a kook party on Figure 8, the very last place you wanted to be.

You had stressed about what to wear, in the end opting for a pair of ripped jeans and a lacy black tank top that showed a little bit of under boob. Strappy sandals on your feet you headed to the kitchen, finding JJ and John B gathering beer to take to the party. "Are you guys almost ready?" JJ turned around at the sound of your voice, looking you over head to toe. You missed the way his eyes darkened at the sight of your exposed breasts, how he swallowed thickly before looking away. "Yes y/n, chill. Just gathering supplies. Let's go." You follow the group outside, piling into the Twinkie and praying the night goes smoothly.

Of course as soon as you arrived at the party, everyone split off into different directions, leaving you alone. John B had gone to search for Sarah, Kie and Pope settling into a deep conversation about environmental changes needed to protect the beaches. JJ headed out to the back patio overlooking the beach, searching for a quiet spot to roll a joint. Wanting to look like you belonged you wandered into the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink into the red plastic cup before making your way back to the main part of the party. Unbeknownst to you, JJ had come back inside, positioning himself in the corner of the room to keep watch over you as John B had instructed.

He'd always been secretly attracted to you, never making a move because he didn't want to be the guy to go after his best friend's younger sister. He had spent many hours admiring you from a distance, wanting to be the one to make you laugh on a bad day. Countless nights he had laid wide awake in bed, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your bare skin beneath his fingers. How did you taste? What would it sound like for you to moan his name? The thought of anyone else touching you, getting to see you in that way, made JJ see red.

Over the next few hours, several guys approached you and tried to get you to dance. Each time you turned them away, getting more frustrated with each pursuit. The final straw was when none other than Rafe Cameron had stalked up silently behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you back against him. You let out a gasp, spinning around in his arms quickly and attempting to shove him away. "Rafe, get off of me." He smirked down at you, leaning in closer. "Shh, relax sweetheart. I just want a quick taste. Let me show you a good time." Without further thought you threw your drink into his face, leaving him fuming before stalking off to grab another.

Suddenly you were pulled into the hallway, a familiar large frame caging you in against the wall. "JJ, what are you doing?" He sighs, letting his hand trail down your face before tucking your hair behind your ear. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Seems like you haven't had a moment of peace all night, all these dumb kooks treating you like a piece of meat." You look up into his blue eyes, something different in them that you haven't seen before that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. "I'm fine J. Why do you care anyways? I know John B asked you to look out for me, but I can take care of myself." He smiles, dimples on display making your heart beat faster. "Oh I know, I saw that for myself. You look so hot, even hotter when you threw that drink in Cameron's face. Sexiest thing I've ever seen."

He leans closer, hands on either side of your face, close enough you can feel his breath on your lips. "JJ...." His lips are on yours in an instant, soft at first, savoring the feeling of your lips against his. When you let a moan slip and tangle your hands into his hair he loses all restraint, pressing his body into yours as his tongue plunges into your mouth. His hands are everywhere, caressing softly over your breasts and bringing your nipples to hard peaks before traveling further south, ghosting over the front of your jeans and making your panties soaked. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your core, grabbing onto his ass to pull him closer still causing him to groan into your mouth. You pull apart breathless, chests heaving and heat flooding through your system. "Take me home J, please." He nods, making some kind of excuse to John B about you not feeling well and letting him know he was taking you home.

The ride back to the Chateau is quiet, air thick with sexual tension. You barely make it over the threshold into the house before he is on you again, picking you up and carrying you to the spare bedroom he calls his own. He sits down on the bed with you straddling his lap, hands kneading the flesh of your ass as you grind down over his length. You pull his head back, exposing his neck as you kiss and suck over every inch of exposed skin. "Shit y/n. We shouldn't do this, your John B's sister." You push him down onto the bed, rocking over length again in slow, deliberate motions that cause him to moan again. "Tell me you want me to stop J and I will." You continue, friction of your jeans rubbing your clit perfectly as you start to pick up speed. "Fuck,” he groans, flipping you over quickly and trapping your hands over your head.

"You're sure this is what you want? Cause once I start, I won't be able to stop." He searches your face for any sign of discomfort, wanting to be certain that you really do want to cross this line. "I want you JJ. Please, please make me feel good." With that he helps you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and taking in the sight of your naked breasts. "God, you're so perfect," he coos, leaning down to take your left nipple into his mouth. You weave your fingers into his hair, holding his face close as he lavishes your sensitive bud with his tongue. He kisses his way to your right breast, repeating the same actions as his hand pops the button on your jeans. He pulls the zipper down slowly, connecting his lips to your neck as his fingers dive under the material of your panties. When you feel the coolness of his ring touch your overheated skin you moan, hips bucking up into his touch. "Mmm JJ, feels so good." He takes his time, teasing two fingers up and down through your folds, lightly grazing your clit with each pass. "So wet for me sweetheart, bet you taste so good."

His hot, greedy mouth kisses down your body, pausing long enough to remove the rest of your clothes before settling between your thighs. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." His breath tickles your pussy, eyes threatening to roll at what is about to happen. "J please, need you so bad." With that he dives in, devouring you with such ferocity you swear you might pass out from the overwhelming pleasure. Your nails rake into his scalp and he moans, vibrations making your thighs tremble. Two fingers tease around your entrance before he plunges them inside, curling them just right so his ring massages your walls. "Fuck J, don't stop." He increases his pace, fucking you with his fingers while his talented tongue worships your clit. "Come on sweetheart, cum for me." His soft command does you in, body trembling as you grind against his face while you ride out your orgasm.

The sight of your release shining on his chin as he comes up to kiss you makes you feral, pushing him onto his back again before hovering over his length. "Easy sweetheart," his abs tense beneath your touch, struggling to not show how excited he is at the thought of you riding him. "Is this okay? Can I ride you?" His eyes roll back at your words, moan leaving his plump lips that tells you all you need to know. You line him up before starting to slowly sink down, his thick length stretching you in a way no one has. "God, you're so big." You finally bottom out, taking a moment to breathe and adjust to how deep he is inside of you. "Y/n, fuck. Need you to move, squeezing me so fucking tight."

His hands grab your hips, guiding your motions as you start to bounce up and down on his length. His fingers dig into your hips, grip bruising but you just don't care. Suddenly he lands a soft smack to your ass making you gasp and clench around him. "Oh god," he groans, bucking up into you to meet your thrusts. Before you can realize what happened he has you on your back, legs over his shoulders as he plows back into you. You let out a whimper, nails digging into his back as he starts to thrust hard and fast.

"You feel so good, don't want to ever stop." He pins your hands over your head again, laying down on top of you and sucking bruises into your neck. The new angle feels amazing, each thrust stimulating your clit. "Yes J, just like that. I'm gonna cum again." He somehow speeds up, rocking into you faster. When he bites the sensitive spot on your neck your orgasm washes over, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins as you moan out his name. "Shit princess, gonna fill you up." A few thrusts later he stills, warm release coating your walls as he comes to a halt.

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