#but as it is all i could do was half of my kitchen last night

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 9

Series Summary: In order to save money for law school, you accept a job working as a maid for high end clients. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in more than just your curiosity peaks.  Word Count: 5k CW: see small red lettering below the cut AN: I'm going to miss them!! I'm absolutely heartbroken that I'm done, but so fucking proud of myself for what I've created. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being my beta from pretty much the very beginning. I am so grateful to you and so honoured (yes, with a u because I'm Canadian lol) to call you my friend. Also little shoutouts to @for-a-longlongtime, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for listening to me go on about them for 80% of 2024. As always, graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: unprotected p in v, one spank, multiple orgasms and Overstim hinted at, pining, heartbreak

Eight Months Later

Joel

“I got yelled at by a feisty brunette last night at that gala,” Tommy says as the two of them sip whiskey at the bar of the club. 

“Probably deserved it.” Joel deadpans and closes the folder of invoices he’s looking over.

He should be doing this in his fancy, and newly renovated, office across the street. He was in the large office for all of three minutes the day after you left when he could only see the ghost of you. From the chair you sat in when you first asked him to teach you how to be a sub, to the door he pinned you against and confessed how out of his mind he was over you, everything was you, and it had to go if he had any chance of following what you needed from him. Joel hasn’t even been in his room at the club out of the fear of what it would do to him. Would I still be able to smell the lavender of her shampoo in there? Still be able to hear her beautiful cries of pleasure and pain bouncing off the walls?

“She thought I was you,” Tommy says, glancing over at his brother and interrupting Joel’s impending spiral.

Joel sighs, slipping his reading glasses from his face before taking a long pull of the amber liquor from his crystal glass. Tommy looks straight ahead as he continues.

“She’s doing great, by the way. Or at least that’s what her friend said when she was scolding me.”

 Joel winces at his words, “Of course she is, Tommy.” Even though it's been almost a year since you left, just the mention of you rips his barely-mended heart back in half. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, he still feels like he did in his kitchen. 

The very fibers of his being ache just as hard for you now as they did then. He longs to see you and touch you, to feel your warm, soft skin under his hands again. Anyone before you was always, ‘Yes, Mister Miller,’ even when they weren’t in a scene; but not you. You weren’t afraid to be curious and unapologetically yourself. He hasn’t laughed as hard with anyone, including Tiffany, as he did with you. But the part that he misses the most is the way you look at him the first time you see him. Your eyes soften, velvety pink lips parting slightly before they curl into a smile that makes his heart hammer behind his ribs. Then, he watches your shoulders relax and it makes him feel like he hung the moon and stars for you, and if he could have, he would have.  

He clears his throat and then rasps, “She’s too smart to not be doing well.”

Tommy stands, bringing his hands to rub at Joel's shoulders. He squeezes his tense deltoid muscles and with a hint of mischief in his voice he says, “Lots of pretty girls here tonight if you feel like moving on.”

Joel shakes his head and pulls away from Tommy’s grasp with a grunt. “Never gonna happen. Get outta here before you get yelled at two nights in a row.”

“Just too bad for me that you aren’t a hot brunette,” Tommy says with a laugh.

“I have brown hair,” Joel replies defensively, running his fingers through the grown out curls. 

“Not to kick you when you’re down, but it’s mostly grey at this point.”

Joel holds up a single finger at Tommy over his shoulder as he laughs and walks away. 

Two and a half years later

You

You’ve been up to your eyeballs in studying as you prepare for your finals. These last few years in California have been the hardest yet most fulfilling time of your life. Two nights in a row now, you’ve fallen asleep in the library, only waking when your Spotify would switch from the white noise playlist you use to help you focus, to your “getting ready” playlist. After dragging yourself to your dorm room in the dead of the night, you’d get a few restless hours of sleep before heading right back to your favourite studying spot. You can’t believe that in just a few short weeks you’ll be graduating and stepping into the life you’ve always envisioned for yourself.

The unmistakable FaceTime jingle fills your AirPods. Jamie’s name is splayed across the screen of your phone, along with a photo of the two of you at Albany Beach when she visited this past Christmas break. You put your highlighter down and slide the answer toggle over. 

“Hey!” She says, her warm smile shining up at you. You squint, trying to place where she is. You don’t often let yourself think of Joel, but the cracks across your screen make FaceTiming difficult, and the selfish side of you always wishes you had grabbed that new phone before you left. Your head cocks to the side; broken screen or not, you don’t recognize the background.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m good, thanks. How are you?” She jests with a mocking eye roll.  “I’m at a cabin.”

“What cabin?” You say, glaring at her jokingly. A deep laugh comes from the otherside of the phone and your eyes widen. “Who’s that?”

The man's voice comes from offscreen, “I can’t believe you thought she wouldn’t ask where you were. She’s going to be a lawyer, for god's sake.”

“Jamie, who is that? What is going on here? Blink twice if you need rescuing!” You joke. 

Jamie blushes, looking over the phone at whoever that voice is coming from. “I just wanted to call to see how the studying is going, and to let you know that I got the graduation tickets.”

A glass of white wine appears in front of Jamie and she smiles before puckering her lips in a kissing motion towards the man in the room with her. “Ok, seriously, who the fuck is that and where are you?”

“I was also calling to let you know that Laren can’t make it anymore and Odette is in New York,” she takes a small sip of her wine.

“Oh, well that’s ok,” you say, trying to squash the disappointment and hoping it doesn’t show in your voice or face. You wished that at least two of your three best friends would be there for you. “It can just be me and you, baby!” 

“Well…I’m wondering if I could maybe bring my boyfriend? Might be a good opportunity for you two to meet.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You say, officially abandoning all study materials until you get some answers. Jamie raises a perfectly manicured finger and calls the mystery man over. 

You swallow hard as Tommy Miller appears beside her. 

Jamie glances up at him, her bright green eyes full of admiration, his mirroring hers. The starry look in their eyes tells you everything you need to know; they’re so far gone for that even a search and rescue team wouldn’t be able to save them. She looks back at you. “Meet again, I guess.”

You try to push for answers, but either of them give in, claiming you need to focus on finals. Before you hang up, Jamie promises to tell you the entire story when you see each other next. You’re happy for your friend, especially seeing the way Tommy looked back at her. Even through your cracked screen you could see the love, but as you try to go back to studying you have a hollow feeling in your stomach.

Graduation Day

You

The late afternoon sun fills your dorm room, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around you. After walking the stage tonight, you are going out to dinner with Jamie and Tommy, and then he has paid for a hotel suite so the two of you can have a girls’ night. You can’t wait to hear how Tommy went from, in Jamie’s previous words, “my dad’s new asshole friend” to her boyfriend. 

You step in front of your floor length mirror, zipping up the black graduation gown over your knee length, form fitting, deep emerald velvet dress. The California sun has been good to you, your tanned legs and sunkissed nose and cheeks are glowing. You place your blue and yellow Berkeley Law stole over your head and then grab your cap, ensuring the ‘Class of ‘28’ tassel is secure. You fluff your curls one last time as a light knock comes from your door. 

“Ready to graduate, gorgeous?” Ronan smiles at you, eyes trailing down your gown. He’s the type of handsome that’s almost painful to look at, but more importantly - you wouldn’t have made it through these last three years without him. You met the first day - the lock on your door wasn’t working, and he waltzed in on you half naked when he mistook your room as his. 

You smile at him in your doorway now; remembering the way you screamed at him that first time, trying to cover your chest, and him scrambling to close the door. His eyes were clamped shut, and he slammed his finger so hard that you had to take him for stitches. Now, several years later, he fills out his graduation gown perfectly with those wide rugby shoulders, a sight you couldn’t even have imagined back then. Whichever angel made him didn’t make a single mistake - he’s tall and insanely broad, with dark sandy blonde hair, and clover green eyes that in the right light are a golden hazel. He’s easily one of the smartest men you’ve ever met and an incredible athlete. The cherry on top, because of course there’s more: he’s an international student and has a panty-melting Irish accent. 

“Beyond ready. Let's become lawyers, babe.”

He steps aside, one arm out in a ‘ladies first’ gesture. Handsome, charming, and thoughtful - a dangerous trifecta. You slide your hand in the crook of his muscle-lined arm and walk across campus together.

Ronan jerks his head towards the coffee cart. “Remember when you spilled your entire coffee on your new puffer jacket?”

You glare up at him, you saved for weeks to buy that jacket. “No, but I remember you throwing up in that trash can after the Halloween party last year.” 

“Well, if Beach Party Barbie had helped Lifeguard Ken with all those shots we wouldn’t have had that problem, would we?” You laugh as Ronan puffs out his chest, but you both know he was more than willing to take your half of the ‘Best Couples Costume' shots. 

Finally, you reach the courtyard where the law students will be walking across a stage that acts as the symbolic bridge to the rest of their lives. I’m a lawyer, you think to yourself and try to force a smile. The magnitude of the day only really starts to sink into your bones as you see the friends and families of your classmates start to take their seats. The excited feeling you had earlier starts to morph. You’re proud of yourself for what you’ve done these last three years, and this was just the first step. You have so much to look forward to, so why do you feel a sense of dread building in the pit of your stomach? 

Ronan walks you to where you need to line up alphabetically, kissing your cheek and then, after leaning in and placing his large hand on your lower back, he whispers a joke about how you better not trip. You glance around the thick crowd for Jamie and Tommy. After realizing it’s hopeless to try and spot them in a group this large, you slip your cap over your hair and get in the procession line. 

You try to soak in every minute of the day, from the speeches to the birds chirping in the background, but something akin to loss flutters at the base of your spine. You’re just as sad to be leaving Berkely as you are excited to carve out your future. Leaving here isn’t what’s causing you to feel this way, however. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’s just nerves; even with all the job offers coming in from your internships, it’s normal to be nervous about what comes next. 

As the student union president gives his toast to the family and friends, you look down at your lap, pushing back the cuticle on your left thumb. Maybe it’s leaving Ronan. He’s been an anchor for you, grounding you almost every day of the last three years and you don’t know how you let yourself become this dependent on anyone, especially a man, again.  

You shake your head at yourself and try to move your focus to the cuticle on your other thumb. Seeing the skin clean from the nail bed eases the tension slightly for you. ‘I’m allowed to be nervous when leaning on people, but not everyone will leave me,’ you recite almost automatically in your mind, the mantra you’ve had these past few years whenever you feel yourself getting this anxious. Just as you finish the thought, a car revs in the distance and the realization of what - or who - you’re actually missing slams through you so hard that you almost feel winded. Your lungs ache, tears pushing behind your eyes as his name rings loudly through your mind.  

Joel.

You kept yourself busy since the minute you left Austin. The busier you were, the less time you had to focus on the void in your heart. During the school year, you didn’t have to find things to stay busy with; law school nearly chewed you up and spit you out. Over the summers, you worked as an intern and visited your friends. There was never a quiet moment, never too much time alone with your thoughts, and it was better this way. You can confidently say that you’d only thought of Joel six times since you walked out of his house that day: when you fell asleep on the beach and were so sunburnt you could barely move for three days; when you failed your first test; when your rusted SUV, that acted as your ticket to freedom at eighteen, died on the freeway in rush hour (from that point on you had to rely on public transportation to get you to the homes you cleaned). When you experienced your first earthquake; when you stayed up for forty-two hours straight after your partner in a group project didn’t have their side of the work done; and, lastly, this past New Year’s Eve when you were in Austin and thought you saw him at a party. 

“Is he here?”, that little box of feelings that you shut away in a vault long ago wonders. “Has anything changed for him in the last three years?” 

The small smile that pulls at your cheeks, and the excited flutter of your heart when you think about the possibility of seeing him again, proves that maybe nothing has changed for you. As the minutes tick by, your mind races with all the possible scenarios for after the ceremony. What if he is here? What will you say? What will he say? How will Ronan react, you know he has strong feelings about what happened between you and Joel. Even worse though, what if he’s not here? But maybe he’s at the hotel where Tommy and Jamie are staying?  

Before you know it, your row is standing and walking single file towards the stage. With each strike of your high-heeled strappy sandals against the concrete, a memory of Joel floods your system. The toast he made you in his kitchen, the kiss in that dimly lit hallway on your birthday, the way he walked you through his club and how calmly he talked about you being in charge before going into the voyeur room. The multitude of orgasms he gave you within the four walls of his private room. Him singing on the small stage of the dive bar you found, followed by him spanking you right there in the bathroom with his hand clamped to your face to keep you quiet. His strong hand grasping your thigh as he drove you to his house. The way he tasted on your tongue. The smell of his skin: all ash and leather, occasionally mixed with whiskey or mint. The feel of his body: hard, broad and hot. His shuddered breaths as he confessed so many things in so few words. 

‘It’s only you, sweet girl.’

‘Just call me Joel.’

‘I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.’

You carefully walk up the stairs, forcing the thoughts of Joel from your mind, just in time to hear your name announced as a graduate of Berkeley Law. You float across the stage, grabbing the piece of paper that acts as your degree until the real one comes, shaking the hand of the Dean who flips your tassel before you walk to the stairs on the other side; the stairs that symbolize the ending of your time here and the beginning of the rest of your life. 

As you reach the top of the steps, you look out into the audience and see Jamie. She pumps her fist in the air and before you can process the empty seat beside her, you feel it; a strong tug from behind your navel. It takes you less than a heartbeat to find him and the sight before you floods your body with a familiar warmth. Standing under a large tree at the edge of the audience, dressed in all black, and holding his Stetson hat to his heart, is Joel. For the first time in years you feel whole again.

 You keep your gaze on him, worried that if you so much as blink that he’ll be gone. You are supposed to follow your classmates, but you veer left, walking towards Joel. The closer you get, the more at ease you feel. He’s real, you think, he’s here. You stop a foot or so in front of him. 

“Hi, Freckles,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes dance around your face, almost as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. You can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling exactly how you are.   

“Hi, Sweet Cheeks,” you say, the same tremble in your voice, as you try desperately to hold it together. “You’re here.”

He nods and you give him a tight-lipped smile as your mind races. There’s so much you want to say, but now that he’s standing right there in front of you after three years, you don’t know where to start. 

Joel breaks the silence, jutting his chin in the direction of the other graduates as he says, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend. When I saw you kiss, I was going to leave, but I made you a promise.”

You knit your eyebrows together and take a step closer. “Boyfriend?”

“The man you walked over here with,” Joel says, his black Stetson sliding down the chest you so desperately want to touch as he drops his hands to his sides. He’s left no barriers between the two of you except the heartbreak that’s evident on his face. 

You laugh quietly, “No, he’s - that’s Ronan.”

Joel nods. “Okay.”

“He’s my friend,” you clarify, and when Joel’s face stays the same, you add, “And he’s still as gay as the day we first met!”

Joel lets out a whoosh of a breath and closes the distance between the two of you, his free hand comes to one of your curls, twirling the end of it around his thick fingers. Soft and silky meets rough and calloused. “I’m so proud of you, Freckles.”

You don’t miss how he watches your tongue dart between your lips, “Thank you.”

“So? How does it feel?” He gives you a soft crooked smile, his dimple carving into the short facial hair of his salt and pepper beard. Between that smile, and the way his brown eyes wash over you, you’re overcome with affection. He let you go. He did exactly as you asked him. He didn’t chase you or try to convince you to stay. You told him if he really loved you, then he’d do exactly this; and in turn, he did what he said he would. 

He showed up. 

“I love you,” you state and the air between you turns electric, almost like this moment could either set you both aflame or act as a generator for your future together. Joel gives you that look, the one that makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. He lets the curled end of your hair slip from his fingers, reaching up towards your graduation cap but hesitating.

“May I?” He rasps and swallows hard.

You nod, and knowing exactly what he’s going for, you take the Stetson from his other hand and place it on your head after he removes your cap. The brim of it blocks out everything but the two of you.

“Say that again, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” it’s barely a whisper this time. “Even after three years apart, you are everything to me. I asked you to let me go so I could accomplish this, and you did. You’ve always done what I asked, what I needed. I’m not sorry for what happened between us, but I am sorry that I missed out on getting to spend the last three years with you looking at me how you are now. I love you, Joel Miller.”

He brings his lips within a breath of yours, and your body practically vibrates with the knowledge that if you leaned just a bit forward, you’d finally have his mouth on you again. You can almost taste the mint on his tongue as the familiar fragrance of ash and leather surround you. “I have dreamed of hearing those three words leave your beautiful lips more times than I can count, baby. You’re it for me. I’ll do anything for you, even if it means breaking my own heart, but I’m always going to be here for you, rooting for you and encouraging you. I’m glad you’re not sorry, because I’m not, I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you, too, my sweet girl.”

Finally, he presses his warm, firm lips against yours while pulling you tight to his body. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding the black cowboy hat against your head with your other hand. It doesn’t matter that the ceremony isn’t done, or that there are hundreds of people to your right. For the first time in three years, everything goes quiet. He hums contentedly and you feel yourself melt against him, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss. He parts his lips, letting you take the first swipe of your tongue against his. Need floods your system, and based on the way he grinds into you, he’s feeling the same. 

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours. “Take me home,” you practically purr.

“Where do you want home to be? I’ll go anywhere,” Joel rasps, running his nose down the bridge of yours. 

“Austin,” you respond, your breath catching as his lips ghost along the side of your mouth.

“I sold my portion of the club to Tommy and Tess. I don’t have anything holding me in Austin anymore, sweet girl. If you have a job offer you really want, that’s where we’ll go.” You pull back to look at him. You can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s serious. 

“I want to go to Austin. I have a job offer there.”

“Good thing I told Tommy not to touch my room at the club then.”

“That’s a very good thing,” you moan and then pull him in to kiss again. The audience behind you erupts into cheers, celebrating the accomplishments of every student in that crowd. 

You’re a lawyer, and suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary.

Joel

Taking you home to Austin that night unfortunately wasn’t an option. After finding Jamie in the crowd, and being formally introduced to Ronan, he called the car to pick up the three of you. You all met Tommy at the restaurant, celebrating with all the expensive homemade pasta and overpriced wine that you wanted; even though seeing you in that curve-hugging velvet dress was slowly killing him. Joel had kept at least one hand on you since seeing you again, and he doesn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. 

He didn’t want to rush you on your big night, so he waited patiently, listening to you tell stories of your last three years, and revelling in the evident joy that you and Jamie share over being together again. When dessert comes around he catches Tommy’s attention and gives him a small smile. It’s fitting that the two brothers, who have been so close their entire lives, would fall in love with best friends. 

Once in his room, he spent two hours stripping you down at an almost painfully slow pace. He kissed every inch of your skin twice over and has pulled five orgasms, and counting, out of you so far. 

Now, Joel is seated in the wide velvet arm chair in the corner of his hotel suite. His cock is buried deep inside of your tight cunt as you straddle him. Your skin feels like butter under his hands as he trails them along your back and the globes of your perfect ass. He’s missed tying you up, but this is what he longed for: the earth shattering intimacy he feels with you in these moments.   

“Please,” you mumble into his neck, desperate to move your hips.

“Not until you answer me,” he demands softly. “How many times was it that you needed me, but were too stubborn to reach out?”

Earlier tonight you told him about the six times you really needed him. He’d kissed you softly after each confession, returning the trust with a time he needed you. After the last one, he’d pulled back to look at you with dark eyes. He’d hated that you needed him and he couldn’t be there. He’d clenched his back molars twice before he said you’d be denied six orgasms the next time you were at the club, but tonight you have permission to come as often as you need to. 

He swats your already reddened ass cheek and your pussy flutters as you cry out. “Mister Miller, stop. Please, just let me move.”

“Do you need to use your safeword?”

“No,” you respond with a pout. 

“How many times?” He says again through gritted teeth, even though already knows the answer. 

“Six,” you sob. 

He tuts and then growls, “That doesn’t sound like my good girl, does it?”

You shake your head against his throat and moan a sound of disagreement.

“Do you want to come for me again?”

“Yes, Mister Miller. Please!”

He trails his fingers up and down your back again, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin makes it easy for him to caress you. He smiles to himself at the shiver that racks through your body at his touch. You react so beautifully to him. “Yeah? You wanna grind your swollen little clit on my piercing, baby girl?”

“Please,” you whine again, stretching out all the vowels in the word.

“Show me. Ride my cock, take what you need.” 

You lift your head from the crook in his neck and pull back slightly, rocking your hips back and forth; a sultry laugh leaves his lips at your eagerness. You look at him with hooded eyes, hair stuck to your forehead. His eyes trail down your neck to the bruises he sucked into your collar bone earlier and then to your breasts; both of which are covered in his marks. He watches the little gold nipple clamps, and the chain that connects them, bounce with each flick of your hips. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. You look like a goddess, my goddess. Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours, baby,” you say through shallow breaths. He pulls at the chain and you cry out in pain. “S-sorry, Mister Miller.”

“Again, sweet girl. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Oh fuck, y-you, Mist -” his hands come to your face and when he whispers your name the rest of your sentence dies on your tongue.

“Just call me Joel.” The commanding voice of his alter ego is gone as he says it. 

Your hips slow, changing from a frantic back and forth to a sensual swirling motion. “I’m yours, Joel. Forever.”

He kisses you softly, a silent telling of how vulnerable he is at this moment. “Don’t ask me to let you go ever again.”

The smile you give him causes his heart to skip, “I won’t.”

“You might, sweet girl. I won't survive it if you do, so I’m going to remind you of this moment as often as possible for the rest of my life. Remind you how much you’re loved and supported. You’re mine, Freckles.” Your hips swirl and he feels you tighten up around him. “Come for me, my sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, fuck, Joel!” It’s a cry and moan all at once. 

“I’m here, it’s ok, baby.” With that, your body shudders and you fall into him as you shatter. Your pussy clenches and releases rapidly around his length. His cock twitches, and once he can’t hold it anymore he relaxes, letting his orgasm rock through him in time with yours.

“I’m yours, too,” he gasps as he melts into you.

The End

Coming Soon:

Curious how Jamie ended up with her "dads new asshole friend?"

Part 2 of the BDSMaid Trilogy coming mid 2025!

Also, stay tuned for the epilogue for Joel and Sweet Girl.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, suggestive, arguing

Matt shrugged casually, “Nothing. We just thought there was a delivery at the door.” his voice steady to make it seem convincing.

I felt relief wash over me, thankful for the cover, it would save me having to explain to everyone that my toxic ex just randomly appeared at their house. The calmness in Matt’s response seemed to diffuse the curiosity hanging in the air.

Chris nodded, his suspicion easing, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Oh I’m not expecting a delivery just yet anyway.”

Nick interrupted, gesturing toward Nate. “Hey, by the way, since we didn’t really get a chance last time, this is Nate.”

Nate stepped forward, extending a hand with an easy smile. “Nice to meet you, properly this time.”

I shook his hand in return, flashing a polite smile. “Yeah last time was a little rushed.”

“Oh that’s on me!” Nate admitted with a chuckle. “I was half out the door when we met. Hopefully, this time’s better.”

Nate had an effortless charm about him, different from Chris’s boisterous energy, Nick’s sharp wit and Matt’s cold nature.

The group started settling on the couch living room. Nick clapped his hands together, like he had a lightbulb moment. “You know what? We should do a games night tonight. Something fun before you two head off to Vegas. I’ll call Madi, she’s always up for a games night.”

I’d gotten to know Madi pretty well by now, it was a nice feeling to know I'd have another girl around, even if only for a little while. I told myself it could be a good tension breaker, especially with Nate staying under the same roof for the next few days.

“That sounds fun!” Nate chimed in, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Games are cool and all, but how about we make it interesting? A few drinks maybe?”

Nick grinned. “Now you’re talking!”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d suggest drinking.”

“I’ll go grab the party essentials.” I offered before the conversation could go too far off the rails. “Snacks, drinks, whatever we need. Might as well make myself useful.” I offered since I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, maybe a shopping trip would clear my head a bit.

Chris glanced over at me. “You sure? I can go with you if you want.”

I waved him off. “It’s fine don’t worry. You guys can stay here and have a catch up.”

“Alright” Matt muttered, his tone neutral but his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.

As I grabbed my bag and slipped on my shoes as I ordered an Uber. This could be a fun night, I felt a mix of anticipation and curiosity about how it would all play out.

Once I got to Walmart, I grabbed a shopping cart and started with the priority - spirits.

I picked up a variety of alcohol, vodka, rum, tequila, and even a bottle of apple sourz. I thought it would be a good idea to pick up a crate of beet too, better to have too much than not enough. Next, I searched for the snacks, tossing in bags of pretzels, 2 tubes of Pringles, chocolate, donuts, and a few other random items that caught my eye. 

I wandered into the games aisle, scanning the shelves for something fun but not too complicated. I grabbed 5 Second Rule and Twister and added them to the cart. I debated on picking up Monopoly, but I know Nick refuses to play it with Matt.

As I made my way to the checkout, I felt a little lighter. The morning had been intense, maybe tonight was exactly what I needed.

The day passed in a blur of light tasks and lingering thoughts. Madi arrived and her presence immediately shifted the energy in the house. She had this way of making everything feel easy, and it was a relief to have another girl around for a change.

We set up around the kitchen table, where I laid the drinks and snacks out. Nate slid into the chair next to me, his friendly and easy going demeanor making me feel comfortable despite everything that had happened in recent days. He was effortlessly charming, asking questions about working with Chris and making jokes that had me genuinely laughing.

Chris and Matt stood nearby, chatting quietly. Chris was his usual goofy self, but Matt's mood still felt frosty. He wasn’t ignoring me exactly, but his responses were clipped, his energy distant. So more or less, Matt was acting normal toward me. I tried not to let it bother me. They’d be leaving for Vegas tomorrow, and maybe some space would be good, for both of us.

“I’m keeping it light tonight” Chris said, pouring himself a splash of whiskey on the rocks. “Don’t wanna hit Vegas hungover.”

“Speak for yourself” Nate chimed in with a grin as he stood and walked to the counter, taking a shot of tequila. “This is a warm up for Hawaii.”

Matt chuckled as he shook his head watching Nate take the shot. “I’m good with a few. Got enough chaos waiting for us tomorrow.”

I couldn’t help but think of Chris and Matt navigating the madness of Vegas together. It suited Chris, but Matt? He didn’t seem like the Vegas type. Yet something about imagining him there, relaxed and out of this usual, guarded demeanor, was kinda intriguing.

“Guess that means more for us!” I said, raising my glass to Madi and Nick.

"Alright, enough standing around. Let’s play a game. How about 5 Second Rule? Haven’t played that in ages.” Chris stated, his energy already setting the tone for the night.

Madi cheered in agreement, while Nate gave a nod. "Sounds good, but I’m giving you all a warning, I’m competitive."

“Oh, we know” Chris teased, pulling the game box off the counter and setting it on the kitchen table. "'Mon, everyone grab a seat."

I settled into my chair next to Nate while Matt reluctantly took a spot across from me. Madi next to him with Chris and Nick at each end of the table.

“Alright, rules are simple” Nick said, shuffling the cards. “I’ll read a prompt, and you’ve got five seconds to name three things in the category. If you don’t you lose your turn.”

“Got it” we all replied, almost in unison.

Chris smirked. “Perfect. Let’s see who embarrasses themselves first. I’ll start it off.” He glanced at Madi as he picked up a card. “Name three pizza toppings. Go!”

Madi’s face lit up. “Pepperoni, mushrooms, pineapple!”

Nick slapped the timer just as the last word left her mouth. “Alright, she’s safe. Nate, your turn. Name three sports where you use a ball.”

Nate leaned back, his confidence showing. “Football, basketball, baseball. Easy.”

Nick rolled his eyes as the timer dinged. “Alright, you’re not impressing anyone. Your turn, Y/n.”

I straightened up, bracing myself as Nate read the card this time. “Name three things you’d find in a bathroom.”

“Toothpaste, shampoo, towels” I rattled off quickly, relieved as the timer buzzed right after. “But none of them are mine since I have to keep my things in my room.” I say playfully, my eyes boring into Matt, alluding to the whole bathroom fiasco. He turned away from me rolling his eyes in response.

Chris grinned mischievously as he shuffled the cards, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, how about we make up our own prompts, let’s make this interesting."

Madi raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Interesting how?"

"You’ll see.." Chris said, leaning forward as he glanced at Nate. "Alright, Nate, you’re up. Name three places you’ve made out in that aren’t a bedroom."

Nate chuckled, completely unfazed. "A car, a beach, a supply closet."

Madi gasped dramatically. "A supply closet?!"

"I mean I havent, not.. yet." Nate replied with a shrug as the timer dinged.

Chris cackled and turned to Madi. "Your turn. Name three things you wouldn’t want your parents to find in your room."

Madi’s cheeks flushed, but she grinned. "A vibrator, weed, and.. And uhhhh–" She paused as the timer buzzed, then groaned. "Fuck! That was tough."

"You were doing so well" Chris teased, shaking his head before turning to me.

"Alright, Y/n. Name three reasons someone might get kicked out of a party."

I hesitated for a second before rattling off, "Throwing up, starting a fight, hooking up with the host’s ex!"

Everyone burst into laughter as the timer buzzed.

Matt smirked across the table, his first sign of amusement all night. "Hooking up with the host’s ex? That sounded specific."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. "It’s just a hypothetical, alright? Your turn, Matt."

Chris scrunched his eyebrows as he thought of a prompt for Matt. "Oh, I’ve got one for you. Name three ways to flirt without talking. "

Matt raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Eye contact, smirking, and-" He paused just long enough for the timer to buzz, then shrugged.

"Come on, you couldn’t think of a third one?" Nick said, laughing.

Matt’s eyes flicked toward me briefly, his smirk lingering. "Maybe I didn’t want to give away all my secrets."

The comment hung in the air for a second, and I quickly looked away, taking a sip of my drink.

"Alright, my turn to stir the pot" Madi announced, turning to look at Chris. "Name three things you’ve lied to a girl about."

Chris groaned but didn’t hesitate. "My age, my job, and.. uh, my feelings."

The table erupted in laughter, and Chris shrugged shamelessly. "What can I say? Gotta keep them guessing."

The game continued, each question more daring and ridiculous than the last, until the room was filled with laughter and empty glasses. It was chaotic, messy, and a little too revealing, but somehow, it was the most fun I’d had in ages.

The vodka lemonade in my hand felt heavier as I swirled it around aimlessly, trying to focus on the game instead of the slight tipsy feeling in my head. Nate was leaning back in his chair, clearly more drunk than anyone else, and grinned mischievously. "Alright, let’s make this more interesting. Truth or dare, spin the bottle style. If you refuse a dare you have to take a shot!"

Madi gasped, laughing as she reached for her drink. "Oh no, this is about to get messyyyyy."

"Messy’s the point" Nate laughed.

“Okayyyy this is my cue to go to bed!” Chris announces as he stands to push his chair in, disappearing downstairs to his room.

Nate rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain before he spun the bottle, it landing on Nick. “I’ll go with dare to kick this game off properly!” Nick laughed.

“Alright I dare you to down your drink and take a shot straight after, since you’re all for kicking this off the right way!” Nate laughs.

Nick groaned but complied, downing the remainder of his drink and wincing as he followed it with a shot of tequila. "You’re the worst, Nate" he said, coughing slightly, but the group fell in to laughter.

The bottle spun again, this time landing on Matt. His jaw tensed slightly, but he leaned back, looking relaxed. "Dare" he said, his voice calm.

Nick jumped at the opportunity. "I dare you to let someone send a risky text off your phone."

Matt’s eyes narrowed, and he hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Fine, whatever. Who’s doing it?"

Nick’s grin widened as he turned to me. "Y/n."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Me? Are you sure?"

"Oh absolutely" Nick said, sliding Matt’s phone across the table toward me. "You’ve got the perfect touch for this."

Matt gave me a pointed look, his lips twitching slightly in what might’ve been amusement or annoyance. "Don’t screw it up."

I picked up his phone, without a need to unlock it since he handed it over with no code needed. As I was scrolling through his contacts, a message popped up on the screen, from someone called Christina. "Can’t wait to see you again 😉"

I froze for a second, the words glaring at me. Without thinking, I read it out loud. "Oh, looks like you’ve got a message."

Matt’s head snapped up. "From who?"

I tilted the phone slightly, showing the message. "Christina?"

Nate leaned forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "Wait, is that the Christina you met in Vegas? The one from July?"

Matt shrugged nonchalantly, but his expression tightened ever so slightly. "Yeah, that’s her."

Nate let out a low whistle. "She’s gonna be there again this time, isn’t she?"

Matt nodded, his tone casual. "Probably."

I don’t know why, but a wave of jealousy hit me, sharp and unexpected. My grip on his phone tightened for a second before I forced myself to focus on the dare. "Should I send something to her?" I asked, my voice light but edged with something I hoped wasn’t obvious.

Matt raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "If you want to, go ahead."

The room felt suddenly smaller, the playful atmosphere shifting. I could feel Madi watching me, and Nate was clearly enjoying the tension. I hesitated for a moment, debating if I should actually send a message to this Christina or if I should pick someone else.

"Tick tock Y/n! You’ve got to make a move!" Nick teased. 

I forced a smirk, my fingers hovering over the screen.

I quickly typed out a message to Christina, my fingers working faster than my mind. "Hey me too, you might need to get an STD check this time though.'" I laughed to myself before pressing send.

The moment I handed the phone back to Matt, I tried to mask the sudden fluttering in my stomach. I didn’t meet his eyes, avoiding the tension that hung between us like a thick fog. I didn’t know what I was trying to prove or if I was even making sense, but it felt like something had shifted in the air, something I couldn’t undo now.

As I settled back into my seat, the bottle spun again, and everyone’s eyes fell on me. It stopped, right on me.

Nate grinned devilishly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, Y/n. Truth or dare?"

I groaned, taking a sip of my drink to avoid eye contact. "Dare" I muttered, already regretting it.

Nate leaned back, his grin widening. "Okay, I dare you to spend seven minutes in heaven with me."

I froze.

The room fell silent for a split second, and I could feel all eyes on me, the weight of their gazes too heavy to ignore. Nate’s smirk was a mixture of playfulness and something more serious, something that made my heart race in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I glanced over at Matt instinctively, only to see his eyes harden, his expression unreadable. A pit formed in my stomach as I quickly turned away, focusing back on Nate.

"Seven minutes?" I repeated, trying to make it sound casual, but my voice betrayed me, thick with uncertainty.

Nate’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, just a harmless bit of fun. No pressure, you can just take the shot."

I swallowed hard. Seven minutes. A small, stupid game. But something told me this wasn’t just about a silly dare. It felt like more, like I was walking on the edge of something I didn’t know if I was ready for.

But, I couldn’t back out now. Not with everyone watching. And definitely not with Matt’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.

"Okay" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Seven minutes, lets go."

Nate and I stood and awkwardly walked toward the tiny supply closet across from Matt’s room, gesturing for me to step inside. The space was cramped, with barely enough room to stand between the washing machine and the wall. I hesitated before following him in, increasingly aware of how quiet the hallway had become. Nick close over the door behind us “Okay I’m setting a timer for you seven minutes now!”

I pulled myself up to sit on the washing machine to try and allow more space. Nate stood in close proximity, leaning against the wall, his broad frame making the already tight space feel even smaller.

He noticed my hesitation immediately and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Y/n. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want to do" he said, his voice soft and reassuring.

I nodded. "It’s not that. It’s just-”

Nate chuckled, his grin easy and comforting. "Yeah, I get it. We’re cramped in here like sardines. Not exactly romantic, huh? We can just mess with everyone’s heads when we get out. Pretend something wild happened.”

I appreciated his reassurance, but my mind wasn’t fully there. It kept circling back to that text from Christina, to the girl Matt had brought home just the other night. Why was I bothered by these things?

We went back and forth trying to mess with everyones heads for a few minutes, the tension easing with each playful exchange. Nate had this way of making me forget the discomfort of the situation, his charm and humor cutting through the awkwardness like a lifeline.

But as the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation creeping back in. Why had I felt so conflicted when Nate dared me? Why had I instinctively looked at Matt? Why was I holding back? Why was I constantly tiptoeing around Matt’s feelings when he barely seemed to care about mine? The way he acted so indifferent toward me, except for those rare moments of kindness that only confused me more. Maybe I was overthinking, but it felt like I was always waiting for some unspoken approval from him.

But why should I?

I turned back to Nate. His expression was calm, patient, and his smile had a boyish charm that was impossible to deny. He leaned casually against the wall, his hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t in a cramped laundry closet playing some silly game.

Maybe I needed to stop worrying so much about Matt, about what he thought or didn’t think. He wasn’t the one in front of me right now.

I took a breath, holding eye contact with Nate, my heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. He raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn’t move, letting me take the lead.

As I tilted my head toward him, ready to close the distance, Nick’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, loud and teasing.

“Alright, lovebirds! Time’s up!”

I froze mid motion, my face heating up in embarrassment as Nate chuckled softly.

“We’ll I guess thats us!” He said playfully.

I leaned back, unable to meet his eyes as he opened the door. The sudden flood of light felt blinding, and the sound of laughter from the others only added to my growing embarrassment.

As we stepped out, I glanced toward the table and immediately caught Matt’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way his jaw tightened that sent a bit of confusion through me.

“Have fun in there?” Matt asked, his tone neutral but laced with something sharp beneath the surface.

I wanted to say something snarky, but the words got caught in my throat. Instead, I turned my attention to my drink, needing something to steady myself.

Nate slid back into his seat, clearly amused. “Best seven minutes of my life” he joked, earning a round of laughter from Nick and Madi.

But Matt didn’t laugh. And for some reason, that bothered me more than it should.

Nick suggested switching things up, his voice full of mischief. "How about we switch it up, what about Never have I ever?"

Madi immediately perked up, slapping her hands together. "Ooh, yes! That’s always fun!"

The group agreed, and Nick quickly grabbed a fresh round of drinks, refilling everyone’s glasses to ensure the game could properly escalate. I could already tell this was going to get messy.

We all sat in a circle, Nate to my right and Matt now to my left, the energy in the room buzzing with anticipation. Nate nudged me playfully. "Hope you’re ready to spill some secrets" he teased.

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink just to brace myself. "I’d watch out too if I were you!" I shot back.

Nick took charge of the first round. He leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the power of starting the game. “Never have I ever.. kissed someone in this room."

I froze, feeling my face heat up. Nate raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with a smirk, we laughed into eachother knowing we wanted to fuck with everyones heads.

"Someone’s gotta shake things up." Nate laughed.

Madi took the next turn. Never have I ever... hooked up with someone I regretted."

A ripple of tension moved through the group. Nick and Madi both took a sip, Nate chuckling awkwardly.

To my surprise, Matt lifted his glass and drank, his gaze flicking toward me for the briefest second before looking away.

It made me feel strange, but I tried not to deep it, instead, taking another sip of my drink for no reason other than to keep myself occupied.

When it was my turn, I hesitated. Everyone was looking at me expectantly, the pressure to come up with something spicy almost overwhelming.

"Alright. Never have I ever.. led someone on."

The group fell into playful gasps and laughter, but my eyes stayed locked on Matt.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he picked up his glass and took a slow sip, holding my gaze the entire time. I couldn’t tell if it was a challenge or an admission, but it left me feeling more conflicted than ever.

The tension in the room was thick as ever when it got to Matt’s turn. His face full of mischief. 

"Never have I ever.." he paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence linger just a beat too long, "..had my ex appear at the house I’m staying in, causing a scene."

The words nearly knocked me out. My stomach sank as I stared at him, my drink frozen halfway to my lips. Why the fuck would he say that?

Nick shifted uncomfortably, muttering something under his breath about the game getting too real, but no one really paid him attention.

I felt every set of eyes in the room turn toward me, and heat crept up my neck, both from anger and embarrassment. I didn’t move, didn’t drink, but my hand tightened around the glass in my grip. I felt like everyone was slowly putting the pieces together from this morning.

"What’s the matter, Y/n?" Matt asked, his voice calm but condescending. "Not drinking?"

I finally lowered the glass to the table, meeting his gaze head on. "I’m sorry, are we airing everyone’s dirty laundry now? Or just mine?"

His lips twitched into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "Just playing the game."

Nate leaned forward, wanting to clear this question. "Alright, let’s not kill the vibe. It’s just a game, right?" He shot Matt a warning look, but Matt didn’t break eye contact with me.

"Right" I said, forcing a smile as I picked up my glass and took a sip. The alcohol burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest.

Madi cleared her throat, clearly trying to cut through the tension. "Okay, let’s move on!" she said, her voice overly chipper. "Um, my turn! Never have I ever.. gone skinny dipping!"

The room tried to recover, laughter breaking out as Nate and Nick both drank, but I barely registered it. My mind was spinning, replaying Matt’s words over and over. Why would he say that? Was he trying to embarrass me? To prove some kind of point? I swallowed the lump in my throat, determined not to let him get to me. If he wanted a reaction, he wasn’t going to get one.

It came back around to my turn, I knew I had an opportunity. I could feel the tension from Matt’s earlier comment still hanging in the air, and I wasn’t about to let him have the last word.  

“Never have I ever.. took a girl home and fucked her multiple times during the night knowing you have a guest in the house who can hear every single bit of it to try and make them feel uncomfortable.”

The room went dead silent.

Every single eye turned to me. Matt’s smirk faltered for the first time all night, his jaw tightening as my words sank in. But I wasn’t backing down. Not after the jab he threw earlier. My gaze stayed locked on Matt, challenging him.

Nick could clearly sense the charged atmosphere but unsure whether to step in. Nate, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head as his eyes wide with both amusement and disbelief.

Matt finally broke the silence, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and tilting his head slightly. "Well" he said, his voice smug as ever "if the guest didn’t want to hear anything, maybe they should’ve stayed in their own apartment instead of squatting in mine."

I felt my cheeks flush hot with both anger and embarrassment. "Squatting?" I snapped. "Wow, I didn’t realize letting someone crash because they didn’t have anywhere else to go counted as charity work for you."

Matt shrugged, his gaze burning into me. "Call it what you want. Just saying, the walls go both ways. If you don’t like what you hear, maybe you should get your own place."

"Or maybe" I shot back, "you could show a little respect for the fact that someone else is living here too. But clearly, that’s asking too much."

Nate looked like he wanted to crawl under the table. Madi awkwardly sipped her drink.

"Alright, alright" Nick finally cut in, his hands raised as if to physically push the tension down. "Maybe this game was a bad idea. Let’s just.. take a breather, yeah?"

But I wasn’t done. "No, it’s fine" I said as I stood up, my voice sharp. "Game’s over anyway. Matt’s clearly got all the answers."

I didn’t wait for anyone to respond. I turned on my heel and walked out of the room, my heart pounding as I made my way upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear the muffled sounds of Nick giving out to Matt for how he spoke to me, Madi trying to diffuse the situation. But the only thing I could focus on was the sound of Matt’s voice replaying in my head, over and over again. If Matt wanted a war, he’d just gotten one.

A hot tear streamed down my face as I lay back on my bed. I wasn’t sure where things would take me now, where I could go, how I would get there, if this would affect working with Chris.

But one thing I was sure of was,

I hated Matt Sturniolo.

a/n: when they go low we go LOWER

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[sugdenlovesdingle]

I am a slut for Hurt/comfort first “I love you” 🥺🫶🏼

Hope you’re having a fantastic day 🥰

Sorry this took FOREVER, but I hope you like it!

(I’ll post on AO3 after I've had some sleep)

----

"You could always come along. Half naked men are relevant to your interests these days." Eddie teased and Buck rolled his eyes.

"There is only one man I'm interested in, and I prefer him completely naked." he grinned at Tommy who leaned over the table to kiss him.

"Likewise."

"Can someone please remind me why I'm friends with you two again?" Eddie complained.

The three of them were sat at Buck's kitchen table, grabbing a bite to eat together before Eddie and Tommy were going to another fight in Vegas.

"I saved your life." Buck reminded him around a bite of food.

"I've saved your life." Eddie shot back.

"Free babysitting."

"Well with Chris still in El Paso, I don't think I'm going to be asking for your services in that department any time soon. If ever again..."

"Chris will come around." Tommy started sincerely, but there was a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "And I get you free tickets to fights and free helicopter flights to exclusive fights in Vegas and back. Which you could be more grateful for."

"I'm beginning to wonder if that means getting all the details on your sex life is really worth it."

"Hey, you don't have to come. I can always go with Evan and get my buddy to set us up with a nice hotel room on the strip." Tommy said turning to Buck. "The two of us, a king size bed, maybe a jacuzzi... Not leaving the room for an entire weekend..."

"And then you'll complain about about having missed the fight of the century when we get back." Buck reminded him but happily let Tommy kiss him.

"There will be other fights. A weekend in Vegas with you sounds pretty good. We could hit up the casinos. I'm pretty good at poker."

"I beat you the other day." Buck smirked.

"That was intentional." Tommy said with a wink.

"Why would you let him win?" Eddie asked, downing the last of his beer. "Why would you play with him in the first place? Mister over competitive."

"Hey!" Buck protested while Tommy just shrugged.

"I had my reasons."

Eddie narrowed his eyes.

"This is another sex thing, isn't it?" he held up his hands. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Tommy laughed and finished the last of his food.

"We should get going soon. We need to still drive over to Harbor from here."

Eddie nodded.

"But no more details about your sex life or you can go alone."

"Noted." Tommy said, getting up and putting their dirty dishes in the sink. "Don't bother with those ok? We can do them together tomorrow." he told Buck.

"Sure. You coming back here after then?"

Tommy smiled.

"If you want me to."

Buck stood up and wrapped his arms around Tommy's neck.

"I want you to. I don't care how late it gets, I want you here. And you better wake me up if I'm asleep."

"I'm not making any promises in that department. But I'll promise I'll be there when you wake up. Deal?"

Buck pretended to think it over.

"I guess I can live with that." he joked and the two of them shared another kiss, getting lost in the moment until Eddie loudly cleared his throat.

"Come on Tomás, we have a flight to catch."

Tommy reluctantly stepped out of Buck's embrace.

"The flight is me." he glanced at his watch. "But yeah we should get going." he shrugged on his jacket, grabbed his phone and keys, and with one more quick kiss and a promise to see Buck later, he followed Eddie out the door.

Buck sighed.

As much as he liked the fact that his boyfriend and best friend got on so well, he wouldn't have exactly hated it to spend his night off with said boyfriend instead of watching TV on his own.

He'd only known Tommy for a couple of months but it was getting harder and harder to remember what his life was like without him in it. He didn't particularly want to either.

Just thinking about Tommy made him smile like a teenager with a crush, but lately he was starting to feel like this thing between them was getting more serious. A deeper connection. Not just sex or romantic dates but also being content to just exist in each other's space.

Like spending the night watching the latest movie Tommy insisted he had to watch or trying out a new recipe with Tommy sitting at his kitchen table, keeping him company and being his guinea pig.

It felt a lot like love.

He was pretty sure Tommy felt the same, even if they hadn't actually said it yet.

He really wanted to though, but he was still waiting for that perfect moment. Maybe he'd tell him when they woke up together in the morning.

He smiled to himself as he scrolled through his DVR to find the documentary on bees he'd recorded earlier that week and got comfortable on the sofa as he hit play.

The documentary was interesting enough but still his mind kept wandering. He tried to remember the names of the guys fighting so he could check the score, when his phone suddenly rang in his hand.

He frowned at the screen, not recognising the number. He debated letting it go to voicemail but his curiosity got the better of him.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Evan Buckley?"

"Yes, this is Evan Buckley... Who is this?"

"My name is Laura Greenwood, I'm a nurse at Cedars-Sinai Medical Centre, and I'm calling you on behalf of Edmundo Diaz. I have you listed as his emergency contact, is that correct?"

"Yes, yes that is correct. What's going on? Is Eddie in hospital?"

"Mister Diaz has just been brought in following a car accident."

"A what?! Is he ok?"

"His injuries are non life threatening as far as I've been told." the nurse told him in a practised calm voice. "Are you able to come to the hospital?"

"Uh yes, yes I'm on my way." Buck told her, rushing around his loft to grab his stuff and put his shoes on. "Wait... Was there anyone else brought in with him? Is there a Thomas Kinard with him? Was he admitted too?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that sir. When you get here you can go straight to the ER and they'll take you to see mister Diaz. Perhaps he will be able to tell you more about any other passengers involved in the accident."

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Eddie was in a car accident... but he'd been in a car with Tommy. They'd taken his truck. So what did that mean for Tommy? Had someone crashed into them? Was Tommy alright? Was he even still alive?

He all but threw his Jeep in the first available parking space he came across, and only just remembered to take the keys out of the ignition and lock it.

The hospital was outside the 118's jurisdiction, so he wasn't as familiar with it as some of the others in the city, but he found the ER with ease after making himself follow the signs.

"But was there a Thomas Kinard brought in too?" he tried with the nurse who was taking him to see Eddie.

"Are you next of kin?"

"He's my boyfriend."

The nurse nodded.

"And are you his emergency contact as well? Or listed as next of kin anywhere?"

"I... I'm... No... We've only been together a couple of months... we haven't had that conversation yet."

The nurse gave him a sympathetic look and Buck knew what she was about to say.

"I'm very sorry, but I can't give you any information if you're not next of kin."

"Right... yeah... I understand..."

"If you know who his emergency contact is, they can update you... or tell us it's ok to tell you."

"C-can... I know you're not allowed to give me any details but... is he here? Is he alive?" Buck tried. "Please. I just need to know he's alive."

The nurse looked at him for a minute, weighing her options, then started typing on a tablet.

"Kinard? K-I-N-A-R-D?"

"That's right."

"He's here." She confirmed. "He's alive. They're working on him. That's all I can tell you, I'm sorry." She started walking again, and Buck had to jog a few steps to catch up with her when his brain had managed to process the information she'd given him.

The nurse pulled open a curtain around a bed and Eddie looked up from the magazine he was flicking through. He looked a little banged up but mostly in one piece.

"Mister Diaz, there's someone here to see you." she stepped aside and Buck made himself walk up to the bed and greet his best friend.

"What happened?" he asked after the nurse had left them to it.

"We got t-boned by some drunk idiot in an expensive sports car." Eddie told him. "Tommy got the worst of it. Have you seen him yet? I figured he'd be higher on your list of priorities."

Buck bit his lip. He was happy to see his best friend was ok, but he couldn't help but worry about his boyfriend.

"They won't let me see him. I'm not family, I'm not his emergency contact, I'm nothing. They called me because of you... All that nurse told me is that he's alive."

Eddie gave him a sympathetic look.

"Do you know who his emergency contact is? Does he have family in LA? Siblings?"

"He was born in LA. His dad still lives in the house he grew up in... But they hate each other."

"Ok so not his dad then."

Buck shook his head.

"He also has a brother but I don't even know his name." he rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't even know the name of my boyfriend's brother." he said dejected. "What if he dies? I don't know his family, I've only met a few of his work friends at Harbor, and I don't know any of his friends outside of work. Nobody would even let me know when the funeral is. I don't even know if he would want a funeral. I barely know my own boyfriend!"

He was spiralling and well on his way to a panic attack.

"Hey, hey, calm down." Eddie did his best to snap him out of it by squeezing his shoulder and making him look at him. "Tommy is not going to die ok? He's the one that called 911 after the accident. He had a head wound and they had to cut him out of the car because his leg got pinned. But he was bitching about his truck getting ruined and how it would take him ages to get it back in working order so he was definitely conscious when they got him out. "

Buck made himself take a few deep breaths to compose himself. Tommy worrying about his car was good. That meant he was awake and conscious enough to know what was happening.

"What kind of head wound? Was it bad?"

"Not as bad as it could have been." Eddie told him after a beat and Buck knew he was choosing his words carefully so he wouldn't freak him out. A move straight from the LAFD handbook.

"What does that even mean? There was no brain matter on the airbag?"

Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics.

"The idiot hit Tommy's side pretty hard. Almost flipped us over. We got knocked around the car pretty bad and he hit his head on... something. I don't know, it all happened really fast."

Buck nodded and just about managed to stop himself from shaking Eddie to give him more details.

"I think I passed out for a few minutes... because the next thing I remember is Tommy asking for my phone, well... more like demanding, because he couldn't find his." Eddie continued, scrunching up his face trying to remember more details. "I think he used my phone to call 911... but I don't know what happened to it." He looked around. "They haven't given me my stuff yet."

"I'll go find someone..." Buck moved to stand up but Eddie stopped him.

"The phone can wait. We need to figure out what we're going to do about Tommy."

"What do you mean what we're going to do about Tommy? I'm not family, they won't let me see him."

"I know... but maybe we can figure out a way around that. That nurse from before likes me... maybe if I flirt with her a little she'll tell me what room he's in? Or how he's doing?"

"Just how hard did you hit your head in the crash? I think you have a concussion. That's never going to work."

"Hey, I'm charming and sexy! I'm hot!"

"I've seen you puking up your guts after bad sushi and hungover and praying in Spanish on my bathroom floor after you decided to mix beer and tequila. You are neither charming or sexy."

"Well you try it then! Or maybe one of the male nurses will be easier to persuade."

"I'm not going to flirt with a guy to get info on my boyfriend!" Buck said exasperated and stood up. "I'm just going to calmly talk to the nurses again and explain the situation... maybe they can tell me who his emergency contact is. Maybe it's his brother and I can introduce myself and he can tell me how Tommy is doing."

Eddie mumbled something under his breath but Buck ignored him and went in search for someone who could tell him more about Tommy.

He was almost at the nurses station when he heard a familiar name.

"I'm here for Thomas Kinard. I got a call he was in an accident."

"Are you family?"

"I might as well be." Buck had a clear view of the man now but he didn't recognise him. "I'm his emergency contact. You called me."

"Name?"

"Sal Deluca. Salvatore."

The nurse typed something on her computer.

"He was in a car accident. Suspected fractured pelvis, head laceration, suspected broken ribs and open tibia fracture, as well as suspected ruptured spleen. He's in surgery now." She told the man. "You can take a seat here and someone will come update you when they can."

The man looked like he wanted to argue with the nurse but apparently decided it wasn't worth it and just sat down on a nearby chair and took his phone out of his pocket. He tapped the screen and put the phone up to his ear.

"Hey, it's me." he paused to listen. "No I haven't seen him yet. He's in surgery. Pretty banged up. He's gonna need help when he gets out. We can't let him go back to his place on his own." Another pause. "I don't know, Gina." A slight irritation in his voice. "We'll figure it out when the time comes." another pause and a sigh. "Yeah. I'll call you when I know more. Yeah. Love you too. Bye."

Buck watched him put his phone away and sit back in the chair. It was now or never. He took a deep breath and walked up to the man.

"Hi... uhm... you don't know me but...-"

"Look, man, let me stop you there. If you're the one that hit my buddy and want to clear your conscience now or something, don't bother, I'm not interested. He'll probably forgive you when he's awake, because he's an idiot like that, but don't come to me with that shit."

"What? No. Tha-that's not... I'm Evan Buckley. Tommy is my boyfriend."

The man sat up.

"You're Evan?"

"Yes... Has Tommy mentioned me?"

"Yeah. Hasn't stopped talking about you for the past few months. I feel like I know you better than my own wife by now."

"Oh... I uh... h-he hasn't told me a-about you..." Buck stammered.

"Of course not." The man rolled his eyes. "We've been friends for over 20 years, he's my both daughters' godfather, but he won't tell his new boyfriend about me." he continued sarcastically. "I guess he just wanted to make sure you're not an asshole like the last idiot he dated. Andrew really fucked him up."

"Y-yeah..." Buck agreed, not wanting to let on he didn't have a clue who Andrew was.

The man stood up and offered Buck his hand.

"I'm Sal. Were you in there with him?"

"No, my best friend was. They were going to Vegas to watch a fight." Buck explained and filled him in on the details.

Sal turned out to be easy enough to talk to once he'd decided Buck was alright, and the two of them talked about Tommy, the job, the 118, and the grudge Sal still held against Bobby.

After some time, a tired looking doctor came to update them on Tommy's condition and a nurse took them up to the floor so they could see him.

"One visitor at a time." she warned them.

"You go first." Buck told Sal who shook his head and pushed him towards the door.

"He's not going to want to see me, trust me. You go sit with him, I'll go update my wife."

Buck wanted to protest but Sal was already walking away and tapping his phone screen. He looked through the little window in the door and saw Tommy, looking way too small and frail for a man his size.

His leg was in a cast and there were various bandages around his head and body. He glanced at the monitor beside the bed and watched the lines move with Tommy's heartbeat before gently opening the door and going in.

He grabbed the chair from the corner of the room and sat down as close to the bed he could get. He watched Tommy's chest rise and fall with each breath and carefully took his hand in his.

"Hey... You scared the shit out of me..." he said softly. "I got the call about Eddie and I jumped in my car right away... And Eddie's fine, he'll be alright... But they wouldn't tell me anything about you. I didn't even know if you were alive." He brought Tommy's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over the knuckles. "When you get out of here, we need to talk." he said and winced at how it sounded. "Not... not like that. I'm not breaking up with you. I just... our jobs are dangerous you know. And next time you get injured on the job... or just... anything happens to you... I want to know what happened. I want to be able to come see you without Eddie thinking he can flirt with a nurse and convince her to let me." He laughed a little. "You know that would never have worked."

The next few hours went by in a blur. Tommy woke up a few times but was way too out of it to have anything resembling a conversation, Sal dipped in and out of the room, and even Eddie had come by to check on Tommy.

The hours turned into days, and the days turned into a week. Tommy's condition had improved enough for him to be moved onto a regular ward and for the dose of the heavy painkillers to be lowered so he was awake for longer periods of time and more aware of what was happening around him.

And also getting more and more annoyed by the fact he couldn't move around as freely as he'd like, practically begging the nurses to get him a pair of crutches even if he was nowhere near well enough for that.

"Hey there sleeping beauty, welcome back to the land of the living. If you wanted to see me that badly, you could have just picked up the phone, you know? You didn't have to crash your car." Sal joked when he walked back into Tommy's room after updating his wife and checking in at work on day 8.

"You know me, always had a flair for the dramatic." Tommy replied and gave him a tired smile. "How are the girls? Evan said you went to call Gina."

"They're fine. Torey wants to come see her uncle T but we talked her down to facetime when you're feeling better."

"Yeah... when these bruises clear up... and the stitches come out. Or can be covered up somehow. I don't want to scare her." Tommy said, gesturing to his head. He was looking a whole lot better than when he'd first been brought in but the bruises were only just starting to fade.

"She's seen you first thing in the morning before you've had your coffee, she can handle a couple of bruises."

Buck sat back and let the two of them talk. He'd gotten to know Sal a little over the past week or so and he liked the guy. Even if he was still kind of intimidated by him.

But it was clear he cared about Tommy and Buck was happy Tommy had a best friend like him. Someone who would drop everything to be there for him. Someone who would always have his back.

Though it was also frustrating that between Sal, the hospital staff, Tommy's crew from Harbor, and various members of the 118, Buck had barely had a moment alone with him.

And he didn't need an audience for what he wanted to tell him.

"I promised Torey I'd take her up to see the lights."

"So save it for her next birthday." Sal argued and Buck realised he'd zoned out and didn't have a clue what they were talking about. "Or wait until she turns 21 and take her to Vegas."

"Oh sure. 'happy birthday sweetheart, you'll get your present in 11 years' I'm sure she'll understand." Tommy said sarcastically and Sal laughed.

"You know she'll remember. And then Bella will want to go too when she turns 21. So you better make sure you get back in that chopper so you can take my girls to Vegas when they're old enough."

Tommy groaned.

"When Isabella is 21, I'll be..." he shook his head. "I don't want to think about that."

Sal sat back in his chair.

"They grow up way too fast." he settled on. "Feels like only yesterday that she couldn't even wrap her little hand all the way around my finger, and now she's talking about inviting boys to her birthday party."

Buck did his best to focus on the conversation, even if he didn't know Sal's family, but he kept zoning out and his eyelids were getting heavy. He hadn't exactly had a good night's sleep at Tommy's bedside, and now the worst seemed to be behind them, the lack of sleep was starting to catch up to him.

"Evan." someone squeezed his hand. "Evan, hey, wake up."

"Wha-what?" he blinked the sleep from his eyes and sat up straighter. "I'm here, I'm awake. I'm here. Are you ok?" he searched Tommy's face for any sign of discomfort or even pain."

"I'm ok. But you just fell asleep sitting up. Why don't you go home to get some rest. in an actual bed."

Buck frowned.

"I'm not leaving you. I'm fine. I just... closed my eyes for a second. I'm fine now, I promise."

"You sound like my daughter when she doesn't want to go to bed." Sal cut in. "She's 8. And I usually pick her up and throw her over my shoulder and take her to bed anyway. So don't try me, Buckley."

Tommy laughed a little but then turned serious.

"Evan, you're exhausted. Why don't you call Howie to take you home. Just for a couple of hours." he pleaded. "I've got Sal here to keep me company, and all these wires stuck to me so they can make sure I'm alright... I'm ok now, I promise. It's your turn to rest now."

"I'm fine." Buck insisted. "I'll get a coffee from the machine later. I'm fine."

"Evan..."

"Tommy, I love you, but please stop trying to get me to leave. I'm not leaving until you are." Buck told him, and brushed a kiss over Tommy's knuckles to emphasise his point.

"Ev... I... You... Did you... mean... that...?"

"I'm not leaving you."

"Not that... the... other thing..."

"The other thing?" Buck mumbled and tried to replay the last part of their conversation in his mind. Tommy, I love you. "Oh... t-that... I..."

"It's ok. You don't have to explain. You're exhausted, I get it. It's fine." Tommy rambled.

"No, I... I... did.. do... mean it. I just... didn't... realise?"

"I'm going to... go buy some cigarettes." Sal said and got up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

"You don't smoke." Tommy pointed out.

"I'll start." Sal replied and left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving the two men alone.

"Are you cold? Do you want me to fluff up your pillow? Do you want some water? Do you want me to go so you can sleep?" Buck rambled, fussing with Tommy's blanket.

"Evan... tell me... did you mean it? It's fine if you didn't. I can handle it. Just tell me. It's alright. We're just having fun, right? You didn't sign up for all of this. It's fine. You can just go. I'll call you when I'm better. Maybe we can go to that club you found online the other day. I mean, it's gonna be a while before I can dance again but... -"

"Tommy!" Buck interrupted. "Shut up. Please." he carefully sat down on the bed next to Tommy's hip and put his hand on his uninjured leg. "I did mean it. I just... didn't mean to just blurt it out like that. I wanted to make it romantic. Maybe a candlelit meal at home. Some music playing in the background, maybe a nice glass of wine... and then I'd take your hand..." he paused to do just that. "And I'd look into your eyes. And I'd tell you that these past few months have been amazing, That you have been amazing. That you make me happier than I ever thought I could be." he carefully leaned in to press a kiss to Tommy's lips. "And then I'd tell you I love you. I love you so much. And then in a perfect world, you'd say it back and we'd have the best night of our lives."

Tommy smiled.

"That sounds amazing. And I love you too."

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's kind of scary... I've never felt this way about anyone before... and definitely not this quickly... but yeah, yes I do love you Evan."

Buck leaned in for another kiss.

"I really wish we could do more right now. I wish I could hold you." he gently ran his hand up and down Tommy's good arm.

"I know... Me too."

"When you get out of here, I'm going to cook for you. All of your favourite foods. I even found a recipe for spumoni online and I'm going to make it for you." Buck promised. "It probably won't be as good as your grandma's, though, but I’ll settle for second place." he joked.

"I'm sure I'll love it. Because I love you."

"I love you too." Buck replied. "And I could really get used to hearing you say that."

"Good thing I'm planning on saying it a lot then."

[domm1etae]

Are u trying to kiss me?

yunho x mingi

oneshot | mdni

1.1k

Where Yunho and Mingi’s casual hangout goes from tipsy laughs to full-on "holy crap, are we doing this"

nsfw tags under

m/m, bottom mingi, top yunho, dryhumping, friends to ?, alcohol, drinking, makeout, kissing, horny drunks xd, blushing, subtle touching, grinding, blow job mentioned, and idk what more lol

Yunho and Mingi had been best friends forever—practically glued to each other since middle school. They’d been through all the cringe-worthy phases together: the awkward growth spurts that left them tripping over their own feet, the regrettable haircuts they’d both agreed were “cool” at the time, and crushes so embarrassing they swore to take them to their graves. Late-night ramen runs and arguing over the last piece of kimchi? That was their love language.

But tonight was… weird. Different.

Yunho had gotten it into his head to try out some new alcohol recipe he found online, proudly declaring it was a “genius masterpiece” that would change their lives. Naturally, Mingi volunteered to be the guinea pig. Free booze? Say less.

Now, a couple of bottles deep, the kitchen looked like a war zone—half-empty glasses scattered across the counter, sticky spills everywhere, and Mingi’s obnoxiously loud laughter echoing off the walls. He was leaning against the kitchen island, cheeks flushed red, head tilted back as he lost it over something Yunho said… except Yunho couldn’t even remember what was so funny.

All Yunho could focus on was Mingi. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his lips curled into that stupidly endearing grin, the way he looked so ridiculously carefree right now. Yunho found himself staring, his heart doing this weird little flutter thing in his chest.

“Dude, you’re, like, bright red,” Yunho teased, reaching out to poke Mingi’s cheek.

Mingi swatted his hand away, still grinning. “Shut up, I’m not red. You’re red.”

“Oh wow, killer comeback,” Yunho snorted, rolling his eyes.

Mingi just laughed harder, leaning into Yunho’s space without a care in the world. His shoulder brushed Yunho’s arm, and for some reason, Yunho froze. It wasn’t like Mingi wasn’t touchy—he was always in Yunho’s space, throwing an arm around him, hanging off him like a human koala. But tonight, it felt… different.

“You talk too much,” Mingi mumbled, his grin softening as his gaze locked on Yunho’s face.

“What?” Yunho blinked, his voice quieter than he intended.

“I said, you talk too much.” Mingi’s hand landed on Yunho’s shoulder, sliding down his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I like touching you,” he added, completely nonchalant, like he wasn’t flipping Yunho’s entire world upside down.

Yunho blinked again. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re soft,” Mingi said with a teasing grin, giving Yunho’s bicep a squeeze. “Weirdly soft for a guy your size.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dumb,” Yunho groaned, shoving him lightly.

“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass,” Mingi shot back without missing a beat.

Yunho froze. That wasn’t new—Mingi said that kind of stuff all the time. But tonight, it felt different. Heavier. Loaded with something Yunho didn’t quite understand but couldn’t ignore. And when Mingi leaned in, his face suddenly way too close, that something became impossible to avoid.

“Mingi,” Yunho said, his voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing?”

Mingi tilted his head, lips twitching into a lazy smirk. “Thinking about kissing you.”

“What?” Yunho’s voice cracked so hard he might as well have hit puberty again.

“I mean, unless you don’t want me to,” Mingi said, his smirk faltering a little.

“I—uh—are you serious right now?” Yunho stammered, his brain short-circuiting.

Mingi shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?” Yunho echoed, eyes wide.

“Fine, yes, I’m serious.”

Yunho opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t get the words out. His eyes darted to Mingi’s lips, then back to his eyes, and before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in.

The kiss started soft—almost hesitant, like neither of them could believe it was actually happening. But then Mingi made this quiet little noise, something between a sigh and a whimper, and Yunho was a goner.

Mingi kissed like he did everything else—with his whole heart. His hands slid up Yunho’s back, pulling him closer, while Yunho’s hands instinctively found Mingi’s hips. They pressed together, their bodies fitting like they were meant to, and Yunho couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss.

Their hands wandered, exploring each other's bodies with increasing urgency as their kisses deepened. It was more intoxicating than the alcohol they'd consumed, and neither of them could get enough.

Mingi whimpered again, his hips moving instinctively against Yunho’s. The sound shot through Yunho’s system like a live wire, it was the hottest thing Yunho has ever heard and wanted to hear it again, he couldn’t help but grind back.

Mingi's hips were unstoppable, moving faster and faster, he’d never felt this overwhelmed, this hot and bothered, not like this before.

Yunho must've noticed how frantic Mingi had become, and without missing a beat, he matched his rhythm. He slid his tongue along Mingi's neck, nipping at his jaw and biting at his ear, his voice low and teasing. "You wanna come, baby?"

Mingi's spine tingled at the sound of Yunho's voice—damn, he sounded so fucking hot talking to him like that.

“Yunho,” Mingi gasped, his head falling against Yunho’s shoulder. His whole body trembled, his nails digging into Yunho’s arms as a broken moan escaped his lips. He stilled after a second, shuddering in Yunho’s arms as he caught his breath.

Yunho held him close, one hand rubbing soothing circles on Mingi’s back. His own heart was racing, his head spinning, but all he cared about was Mingi.

“You good?” Yunho asked softly, pulling back just enough to see Mingi’s face.

Mingi let out a shaky laugh, his cheeks flushed and his grin lopsided. “Good? I’m amazing,” he said, his voice still breathless. Then his eyes flicked down to Yunho’s lap, and his grin faded. “But, uh… you didn’t…”

Yunho shook his head quickly. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Seriously.”

Mingi’s hand shot out, grabbing Yunho’s wrist before he could move away. “No,” he said firmly, his tone more serious than Yunho had ever heard. “Let me take care of you.”

Before Yunho could protest, Mingi was sinking to his knees, his hands already working at Yunho’s belt. The alcohol haze was gone now, leaving nothing but raw, unfiltered emotion between them.

As Mingi looked up at him, his dark eyes filled with something Yunho could only describe as pure want, Yunho knew one thing for sure: this was, without a doubt, the best experiment he’d ever attempted.

[sutherlins]

Down In The Heart SydCarmy Short Set about 2 and a half years after their first date written for my beloved @conceived-angel

I love the taste of you in the morning Maybe if I'm lucky, you might stay the afternoon I love the thought of us in the evening I knew you were the real thing When you walked through the door

Carmy took the front entrance to The Bear for a change, smiling at the sign in the window as he unlocked the door.

The Bear will be closed until July 1st due to a family event. We are excited to welcome our guests back to dine with us then. Thank you.

Once inside he locked the door again and dumped his things on the bar, making himself a coffee and returning to his desk for the day.

It had been almost an hour and the only thing on his notebook was her name.

Sydney.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have things to put down, it was how to put the magnitude of his feelings into words that was his struggle. He was so engrossed in the paper in front of him he didn’t hear the back door open, or the footsteps making their way closer. Didn’t notice until a hand tapped the notepad and pulled him from his thoughts.

“You good?” Nat laughed

“Yeah, no, yeah.”

“That a yeah, a no or a yeah?”

Carmy laughed and closed the notepad. “I’m great, just struggling to write my vows.”

“Ahhhh.”

“How did you write yours?”

“We got married in Chapel remember?”

“Oh yeah, no freestyling.”

“No freestyling.” She laughed, and poured herself a glass of water. “We did write each other a letter to read in the morning though. Pete wrote about our first date and everything he wanted us to do in life together”

He couldn’t help but smile at the way her hand stroked at her ring at the memory. “What did you write about?”

“The little moments. They mean more to me than the big ones.”

“I love the little moments too.”

“Then write that.” Nat grabbed her bag and then took a folder from under the bar. “You good?”

“Yeah, where you going?”

Nat smiled at his question. “To meet my soon to be sister in law, we left the vendor shit here a few days ago.” She said tapping the folder in her hand.

Carmy smiled at just the thought of his future bride. “Tell her I love her.”

“She already knows but I will, and... Bear?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t overthink it. Little moments. The important shit.”

“Thanks, Sug’”

Natalie left him alone once more and he opened his phone, swiping through his photos, the last image he took was from that morning, she was in bed, sitting up against the headboard, smiling at him. He put his pen to paper.

Sydney, I used to dread mornings and wish for the next one to never arrive, and then I found you, and now the idea that every morning I get to wake up with my arms around you make me think a life I no longer wanted to live will never be long enough.

He returned to his phone, swiping through photos that included meals, his nieces, and things around Chicago he wanted to draw. It wasn’t long before he came across another photo of Sydney. This one was taken late one evening, she was sitting on the sofa, the sun setting outside the window behind her and she was staring at the TV, her face was set in a soft smile and he had taken the photo because it was easier to do that than confront how overwhelmed he felt in his love for her. The ink started to flow as his feelings spilled out.

Sydney, nights used to be so lonely, nothing could tear me away from the kitchen because finding distractions from my life got me through the days. Now the only distraction is you. You tear me away from everything just by existing and I’ve never been happier. In those quiet evenings when I get to sit with you, I wonder how I survived before you. There will always be a before you, but there will never be an after and I’d go through all of the before a million times again to end up here with you.

He swiped some more, the photo making him laugh, it was a photo of her through the peep hole of the apartment door. The small window making a fish eye lens and she had her face pressed close to the door making it even funnier to him. He was writing once more before he even realized.

Sydney, the first time you walked through a door and into my life something shifted cosmically. Every time you walk into a room I’m in it’s like that day all over again, the world shifts a little, and everything wrong corrects itself.

He brought his phone back out, swiping some more. The photo of him and Sydney at the park, the bright mid day sun shining in the sky. The photo had been taken by Gia. The angle was low, as she pointed the camera up at them. That day they had been on babysitting duties and he’d had a sudden vision of a future date, their own kids joining them.

Sydney, to be your husband and the father of our children will be the greatest accolade I could ever achieve in my life. I will spend every day of my life making sure you know that. The lazy or rushed mornings, the content or chaotic afternoons, the slow and relaxed or the frenetic nights - as long as the rest of mine are spent with you I don’t care what they look like. I am so excited to be your husband, and have you as my wife.

Just as he was about to put his phone away it rang out with an incoming face time call. He swiped, smiling as she appeared in front of him.

“There was an issue with the napkins so we need to pick new ones. What do you think?” She jumped right in, ignoring the pleasantries and she switched the camera, pointing the phone at five napkins. He liked the second one, the simplicity of it. He knew she would like the third one the most, the little ruffle trim was something she would love.

“I like the third one the best.” He lied.

“You do? Me too, okay gotta go, love you!”

“Love you too.”

The call disconnected and he put his phone away, packing up his stuff and heading home, grateful for a life that gave him Sydney.

~

On the day of their wedding, with his hand in hers, he let her lead them to their sweetheart table. As they passed through the long rows of tables he admired the way the tables were set up, and the ruffled napkins lining the tables.

When they finally got to their own seats he laughed hard and kissed her deep when he spotted their place settings, the simple napkins he secretly liked more sitting beside their plates.

[darkpuppysuit]

~Chapter 3~

Hybdrid!BTSxHuman!Reader

⚠️WARNINGS: Marijuana use, alcohol use, hybrid scenting, dirty talk (nothing too extreme I don't think, not this chapter anyway😏),

MATURE THEMES MDNI!!

It's been just over three months since the hybrids had slipped into Y/n's barn that fateful night and they couldn't be happier. Hoseok wakes up early with Y/n every morning and only after light conversation over a cup or two of coffee he goes for a small jog around the farm, sometimes Namjoon will join him only to stop in the sunflower field to watch the sun rise while he reads a book from the never ending shelf in the living room.

Seokjin wakes up a few hours after Y/n does and helps her make breakfast for the eight of them every morning bantering back and forth, asking questions, learning new things from her. He admires the motherly aspect of her personality whole heartedly. Is this what it felt like to fall for a someone? To not only see how perfect they are but how imperfect they are at the same time? 

Don't get him wrong he's no saint but to him, there's just something about the simple and easy purity in being taken care of for a change, instead of being the one to take care of others that keeps him smiling at her clumsy little hands when she almost drops the bag of sugar onto the floor one morning or the way she blushes every time he bends down to her level to look into her beautiful pale blue eyes, listening to her talk even though he can hear her just fine standing up straight.

Yoongi will normally wake up the second he smells breakfast being made, shuffling into the kitchen resting his hands on Y/n's waist before nudging his nose against her bare neck before walking to the coffee pot to pour him his own cup of coffee with a few ice cubes mixed in. Finding his perch in the reading nook in the living room across from the large couch gazing out the large window, probably bird watching or something. 

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook almost never wake up before noon so most of the morning chores are done before they even get out of bed giving the three hybrids an almost completely free afternoon to do what they wanted.

Despite Jimin's smaller lean frame he's a great help with the farm animals, giving the new baby chicks names like peaches or something that just seems a little too butch for a small, soft little ball of yellow poof. Y/n is slowly teaching him how to ride a horse, starting with Dove who was thoroughly trained by Y/n herself. 

She leads the horse around the open pen by the rope she tied to her bridle to guide Dove around with Jimin holding onto the straps for dear life the first go around but with Y/n's encouraging words and kind hearted smile, he was determined to be able to ride a horse like she does one day just conceivably sooner rather than later. 

"Tomorrow we're going to have that bonfire I've been putting off for the last few days. Emily and John are off work on Saturday so they said they would come by with some goodies. Knowing Emily that could only mean weed and alcohol." Y/n rubs the sleep from her eyes only slightly mumbling half her words to Seokjin who is surprisingly up before she was, Hoseok having already run out the door for his morning jog. 

Seokjin looks at her curiously and a little bewildered handing her cup of coffee to her just the way she likes it. "Alcohol I'm familiar with but weed? Not so much, actually not at all if I'm being honest." They both take a sip of their drinks, Y/n setting her mug down on the table walks over to the cabinet next to the stove to pull out a few pans and a pot. "Marijuana, I know it's not for everyone and there's a lot of rumors and such surrounding it but damn does it make you feel better than just being drunk. Being cross-faded is my personal favorite." He doesn't say much when she explains all the different strains and weird names, some are funny he'll admit but not out loud.

Y/n hasn't been able to wear anything other than long sleeves and chaps over her jeans since taking in the squirrely, stubborn mustang and the wear and tear the horse is giving her, being bucked off only a handful of times, she has gathered a small crowd around the fence barely paying them any mind. "Where do you think she learned all of this from?" Jimin leans over his crossed arms on the fence speaking to the moose hybrid who's staring intently at every move the horse makes including every tug and pull Y/n answers him with. 

"I think she said her cousin started teaching her when her grandfather broke his hip but, whoever taught her did a damn good job, she's only fallen off once since I've been here and that was a few hours ago." Jungkook kicks the fence post with the boots Y/n had bought all of them just last week, only now being able to really wear them when he was out here with her just past the sunflower field and a few yards away from the large pond where the cows stood grazing on the green grass at the break pen. 

Namjoon and Jin join the other two hybrids at the fence when Y/n is bucked forward over the mustang's head, quickly standing to her feet only for her chest to be met with a kick from the tired horse and she hits the fence with force, her hat flying off and her head hitting a post in the process. Namjoon and Jungkook are the first to spring forward, jumping over the gate one grabbing the horse by the bridle and the other rushing to Y/n's side the retriever and jaguar hybrid following close behind. 

"Y/n! Holy shit! Are you okay? Y/n!" Seokjin kneels down in front of her slumped figure somehow getting there before Namjoon or Jimin could, her head hangs low and he scoops her face into his warm hands trying to get her to react. "Y/n! I swear if you die on me I'm going to burn all of your vinyl records! Elvis Presley included!" It was an empty threat but when she doesn't respond to it like she had many times before Seokjin starts to panic even more, shaking her in a desperate attempt to wake her up. 

"Goddammit, someone get Yoongi she's not responding but she's breathing. Don't just stand there, go!" Namjoon yells at the younger hybrids and they both take off sprinting towards the house as fast as their legs would carry them.

Namjoon kneels next to the jaguar hybrid who is doing anything he can to get Y/n to respond to him, he puts a hand on Seokjin's shoulder and he looks at him with tears running down his face. "We should've came out here earlier, maybe- maybe this wouldn't have happened and she would be f-fine." Seokjin chokes on air as he pulls her body close scenting the top of her head heavily, fearing the worst.

A few minutes later Y/n slowly comes to her senses, her eyes flutter open with a grunt, reaching for the back of her head and winces. "Ow." Is the only word that falls from her lips when Seokjin and Namjoon help her sit up, a look of pure shock on Seokjin's tear stained face that he attempts to clean with his sweater sleeve. "Could you possibly- never do that again?" Seokjin quips with a half hearted smile as the other five hybrids come running from the house and yelling down the slope of the hill towards them. 

They barely get the gate open as Yoongi slides through the dirt to kneel in front of her. "I heard you hit your head. How are you feeling kit?" Besides the throbbing in the back of her head she was fine to say the least, Yoongi and Namjoon help her to her feet and Jimin hands her the hat she was wearing.

Dusting it off on her pants she sets it back on her head straight and she sighs followed by a whistle. "That bastard is going to be glue here in the next five minutes I swear to Gods." She grunts as she fixes her belt, her scent of burnt leather and ashy cedar signaling to the hybrids she was pissed and not to get in her way. 

Looking around to locate the horse, spotting it trotting in a circle on the other side of the break pen, she sets her sights on him and stomps towards him tapping him on the snout before swinging herself onto the saddle strapped to it's back and to her surprise when she pulls on the reigns he follows her every command for the next two hours, Jimin was even able to get close to the mustang without it flinching or kicking. 

The next day at the grocery store in the freezer section the hybrid's stuck to Y/n like super glue giving her almost no breathing room. "Hey my boys, What do you think about meatball subs for the bonfire tonight?" Y/n turned to ask the lot of them what they thought, some of their cheeks burned when she called them her boys others stumbling over their words or fumbling with their hands or even looking at anything else other than her. 

Namjoon is quick to mumble an agreement before Y/n could even catch onto their stiff movements. Moving to the next aisle over into the bread section to get some buns and maybe snag a small bag of candy along the way the hybrids had disbursed into different areas of the store looking for any snacks that would be good to munch on later. 

Y/n is quietly humming to herself when there is a sudden presence behind her, the being starts to rub her back and Y/n's hair on the back of her neck stands on end because this isn't one of the hybrids she's come to love and know so well.

"Hey baby, miss me?" Y/n shivers when his nasty breath ghosts across her skin as she's frozen to her spot, staring at the nearly empty shelf in front of her. 

She takes a deep breath, her body is vibrating with anxiety and her vision slightly blurs due to the tears collecting in her eyes. "Wh-What are you doing here Adam?"

Adam lays his meat cleaver sized tattooed hands onto her shoulders giving them a tight squeeze. "I've come home, I told you I'd come back when I got out or did you forget?" He turns her around harshly and her hat falls off her head and into the cart next to her. "You know what happens when you say shit like that, you never could hold a lot in that tiny brain of yours could you?" 

He chuckles at her terrified expression and her clouded eyes as a tear falls onto her cheek. "I-I'm s-sorry, it won't happen a-again." Y/n stares at the ground when he waves his hand in her face causing her to flinch hard tapping the back of her already hurting head on the shelf behind her. "Tsk tsk, I'll let it slide since I just got back but," He leans in close to her ear the smell of shitty cigars and dry gin stinging her nose, he puts a death grip around the softer area of her ribs squeezing hard most likely bruising her tender body but she hardly reacts because she knew if she was to make a face, a sound, anything it would set him off like it had so many times in the past. 

"When we get home I'm going to fuck you until you can't get off the bed much less twitch." His disgusting words rang through her head over and over again, her eyes misty, tears falling onto the plaid work shirt, tilting her head down further her trauma response is to lay her head on him. When the top of her head meets his chest he chuckles darkly wrapping his large arms around her.

"Good gi-" Before Adam could get another word out edgewise, a fist makes contact with his cheek causing him to fall to the ground with a thud and a loud grunt, taking Y/n to the ground with him.

Namjoon and Yoongi come to her aide running and manage to free her from his grasp but she's barely able to stand on her own shaking legs as she watches Taehyung, the soft cuddly hybrid she thought he was, throw a few more hits every time the man tries to get up off the ground. 

"Tae, that's enough. I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!" Namjoon barks when he sees blood dripping from the human's brow, the white tiger hybrid stands to his full daunting height, looming over the groaning thing on the floor looking over at Y/n.

His eyes soften when he sees her trembling form, she's weak at the knees and by the look of her glossy eyes and scent of wet, soggy leather and moldy cedar they could tell she wasn't mentally here at the moment. 

"What the fuck happened?" Jin shouts as he and the rest of the hybrids rush down the aisle with arms full of snacks and drinks. "Where's Y/n?" Jimin asks when he sees a different human on the floor groaning in pain. Namjoon moves to the side, the retriever hybrid catches a glimpse of her soft glossy hair on the other side of him covering her face making it hard for him to look her in the eyes. Jimin walks towards her carefully, leaning down to her level, tucking some of her hair behind her ear when she makes eye contact with him and slowly comes out of her own head. 

"J-Jimin? I'm so s-sorry. I didn't- he-" Her voice was trembling as well as her body, leaning against the shelves behind the three of them, her hair falling around her flushed cheeks. "Hey, hey hush. No don't do that you did nothing wrong. Let's get our stuff paid for and go home okay? We have a party to host remember?" Y/n nods her head, taking a deep breath as Adam picks himself up off the floor with a stomp. 

"She's not going anywhere with you filthy animals, if anything she's coming home with me!" He barks at nobody in particular as he's still trying to get his vision to focus. Y/n's head snaps up at his voice before she walks right up to him pointing her finger in his face, her jaw set as she rips him a new asshole.

"I'm not going anywhere with anyone! We are going home Adam, if you so much as follow us out of this store- I have a shotgun in the bed of my truck with your name on it." Though her threat was empty and there was indeed no shotgun in the back of her truck Y/n still growled it at him all the same before turning around and walking away.

Back at the house Y/n is rushing around trying to get everything ready, cooking the meatballs in the crockpot, making sure all the alcohol she bought was either in the freezer or the fridge. She sets out some snacks and makes sure there were enough blankets and lawn chairs for everyone to sit on.

Hoseok watches her run around like a chicken with her head cut off for a few minutes, sweating underneath her work clothes and just when Y/n is about to pass him for the fifth time he grabs her by the arm and pulls her towards him, their bodies colliding together as Hoseok holds her close. 

"Take it easy honey. Why don't you go upstairs, take a shower and get out of your work clothes for a change? It's hot as hell outside and it's only going to get hotter next to the fire later." Hoseok winks then quickly wraps an arm around her waist pulling her body even closer to his, staring into her eyes as his gaze roams over her face, committing her shocked expression and pink cheeks to memory gently rubbing his cheek against hers. 

Y/n lays her hands on his chest, the fox hybrid starts purring in her ear before he opens his mouth to speak again. "Go on, go get ready pretty." He turns her around pushing her towards the stairs, giving her ass a firm smack and before she could protest Hoseok chuckled claiming the rest of them could handle what was left. 

Once Y/n was finished with her long hot shower, finally washing away all the dirt and grime collected on her soft skin her phone rings. Picking it up she answers her best friends video call. "Hey girl, you ready for tonight? Just a few more hours!" Emily squeals on the other side of the phone which causes Y/n to wince at the sudden volume change, opening her large closet to find something to wear. "Not exactly I mean I have all the food and alcohol fixed, finished, and ready to go. The one thing I have no idea what I'm doing, is picking what to wear." 

Y/n doesn't know why the pit of her stomach is doing flips every time she thinks about the party that's only a few hours away, maybe because she knew how horny she could be when she was inebriated and it's slowly starting to make her sick.

Taking a deep breath as she puts on a matching pair of lace underwear and her favorite lace bra when Emily chimes in again. "Oh, wear those booty shorts I got you for your birthday last year with that pretty purple tank top that hugs your curves just right!" 

She says excitedly, Y/n can't help but roll her eyes at her through the phone sifting through her closet dresser. "Why do you always dress me like a whore when we do things together?" Now it's Emily's turn to roll her eyes. "Because If I didn't you'd be dressed in your country hick clothes and we can't have that, not when you have seven hybrids checking you out on the daily when your back is turned." Y/n can't believe the words that just flew from her best friends mouth, is that all she thinks about these days? 

Trying to get Y/n laid or to find someone to have for the rest of her life she didn't know but either way Emily needed to calm down. "Em, you know I'm in this for the long haul, I don't care if they're checking me out when my back is turned, it's probably just part of their hybrid instincts or something."

After a few minutes of arguing and throwing insults each others way Y/n is finally able to get dressed just as their conversation was coming to an end. "All I'm saying Y/n, is you need to ask them about the scenting part of being a hybrid because I heard it's important to their health, but it hurts like a bitch." Y/n didn't know why it would hurt so much, their scenting has been pretty mild and she doesn't mind it when they put their hands on her, it comes with the territory after all. 

Meanwhile downstairs, Seokjin is making sure the last few finishing touches inside the house are done while Jungkook and Namjoon fill buckets of water from the outside spout, taking them down to the large wood pile, along with other burnable junk, incase there were a few flaming fly aways.

Hoseok and Jimin were in the living room playing some type of combat game meanwhile Yoongi had tucked himself in the reading nook like he always does and Taehyung is messing with an old camera he found underneath the stairwell when he was looking for new sheets for his bed upstairs. 

Namjoon slowly follows Jungkook up the back steps sweating more so than normal when he comes in from outside, grabbing a towel from the dryer on his way through the kitchen.

Seokjin stops him before he can cross the archway into the foyer. "What's going on with you? You're shirt is soaked through and your body is literally hot to the touch." He sighs as Namjoon puts the towel on the back of the chair beside him. 

"I don't really know Jin, this has never happened to me before. I keep sweating bullets and can't catch my breath when I even think about-" The wolf hybrid is quickly distracted before he can finish his sentence when Y/n comes down the stairs, her large chest bouncing perfectly underneath her bright purple tank top.

Moving his eyes downward he notices she's wearing really short jean shorts with her tiny bare feet padding down the stairs, her ankles adorned with gold and silver chains with tiny charms on them. 

But what makes the air hard to breath for him and the others in the room is her golden sun kissed skin, they thought was an empty canvas, is actually covered in tattoos from her ankles up her thick thighs to her hips and from her wrists up to her shoulders with a few odds and ends littering her chest cavity.

She turns to walk towards the living room and Namjoon could barely see the beginnings of a moon phase tattoo leading downwards to what looks like a very old tramp stamp. 

"Holy fucking shit. Taehyung, you sir owe me twenty bucks!" The moose hybrid pats the tiger on the back hard which causes him to grimace when he drops a small gear onto the counter top of the kitchen island almost losing it in the sink, he looks back the moose with a death glare.

"Y/n, when were you going to tell us your whole body is covered in art like a fucking goddess cause goddamn, you're something out of one of those erotic novels." Hoseok grabs her by the hand spinning her around from the archway in the living room towards the kitchen. She lets out her beautiful unfiltered laugh that rings throughout the house before coming to a dizzy stop in front of the staircase again. 

"Whoa fuck, sorry I guess I'm so used to having them that I kind of forgot?" Trying to get her vision to focus again Y/n has yet to realize she was wobbling her way towards Namjoon and before either of them knew it she trips over her own feet and towards the floor but before she could hit the floor Namjoon swiftly catches her in his arms. Holding her by her lower back with one arm as the other wraps around her upper body his hand instinctively caressing the nape of her neck to keep her head from bending back too far. 

Y/n wraps her arms around Namjoon's neck and when she looks up again, like something out of a movie, her pale eyes meet soft chocolate orbs. Namjoon's ears flick around listening to every gasp and oh my gods barely able to hear them as he locks eyes with Y/n. The very person plaguing his mind with her curvy breed-able figure and sweet southern accent all fucking day.

Namjoon wasn't sure what to do in this situation he was perpetually frozen, in one hand he had his alpha screaming bloody murder at him flashing all sorts of lewd and pornographic images of all the different positions he could have her in within the hour, making him sweat even more and his body vibrate with electricity.

He can feel her cool skin sizzling against his own blazing touch on her lower back, not to mention his issue downstairs. He was just hoping, praying even, that when he stood up straight no one would mention the growing tent in his pants. 

Before either of them could utter a single syllable the doorbell rings, quite literally saving Namjoon by the mother fucking bell. It startles him to the point he almost drops Y/n on the ground needing to get out of there as soon as physically possible. "I should go get th-that." He helps her stand up and she quickly shuffles towards the door. 

With Y/n out of the room the rest of the hybrids are staring at Namjoon. Most of them are trying to keep themselves from laughing while the others like Hoseok and Jungkook are laughing at him outright.

"J-Joon you might want to go f-fix yourself before..."Hoseok can't help but burst into another fit of laughter, hiding his face in the moose hybrids shoulder so Jungkook has to finish his sentence for him. 

"Before whoever's at the door sees that." Jungkook points down at his own pants when Namjoon looks down and closes his eyes in frustration. "Don't mention a damn word to Y/n got it? I have enough problems today, the last thing I need is for you assholes to make it worse than it already is." He rushes off to his room still wiping the sweat off his brow and doing his best to keep the ever growing nausea rising in his throat down, he wasn't going to ruin her party just because he didn't know what the fuck was going on with him. 

A few hours later Namjoon still hasn't come down from his bedroom and Y/n and Emily have already lost themselves and are so far gone it's hard to tell who to corral first. Her friend who likes to play with fire or Y/n who is currently going between the bonfire and the house on the back of Dove claiming, drinking and driving is how you get a ticket so why not save a cowboy ride a horse, right? Or was it the other way around?

Eventually Y/n finally sits down in one of the few lawn chairs, taking a hit off the blunt Emily passed to her when it hits her. "Where's Jooniebug? Haven't seen him since uh earlier." Her already red cheeks somehow turn an even darker shade when she vaguely mentions the incident from just a few hours ago to Emily.

Jungkook looks at Hoseok and they burst out in laughter at Y/n and her childish nickname for the wolf hybrid as Taehyung snaps a picture of her with Jungkook laughing in the background. 

She looks so beautiful next to the fire. The way her tattoos glow in the orange haze, the way her curvy body moves when she crosses her legs. The smoke she blew out of her pretty pink lips dances around her beautiful round face, to think he caught almost all of her beauty on camera. 

He didn't care to notice it before but everything about her is adorably sexy, even her small feet kicking in the air when she laughs at a joke her friend made is the cutest thing he's ever seen and don't get Taehyung started on her laugh. Oh how it was pure and unfiltered to his ears, he could listen to it every day for the rest of his life and die a very happy man.

"Tae?" Her addictively sweet southern accent and cute nickname for the tiger hybrid brings him out of his reverie, his eyes snapping back to meet hers and his tail standing ramrod stiff like he'd been caught doing something illegal. She's holding the blunt out offering it to him and he puts his hand up that's not holding the vintage camera and shakes his head. "No I don't smoke, sorry." 

Y/n in her cross faded state doesn't take no for an answer, she stands up and takes the camera from his hand, giving it to Emily who now stands next to her more drunk than high at the moment.

She kneels down onto the blanket Taehyung is sitting on and situates herself onto his lap straddling his hips making his ears down to his neck burn with the heat of a thousands suns and the ears on top of his head to flatten against his fluffy hair before she leans in close and explains her actions to him, laying her left hand on his shoulder delicately. 

"Since this is your first time this is what we're gonna- do okay- listen closely." She whispers the last part of her sentence in his ear and he nods his head yes, completely wiggin' out at how close she was. He could easily pull her in and kiss her lips raw but she obviously doesn't understand what she's doing to him right now. 

Y/n rubs his head between his ears roughly sending shivers down his spine and straight down to his cock shifting his legs underneath her, his large hands hovering just above her hips.

"Good boy, now- I'm going to hit this, and then as I'm breathing it out I need you to breath in okay?" Y/n even in her inebriated state, makes sure Taehyung is comfortable. He knew he could back out at any given time if he really didn't want to go through with this. "Y-yeah I-I-I got it."

Y/n smiles at him giggling like a schoolgirl before taking a large puff off the blunt in her hands. She passes it to Emily before she hands it over to Hoseok who takes a smaller puff.

Emily holds the camera up as Y/n holds Taehyung by the jaw to keep his head in place and leans in close their lips a literal breath apart. His hands clamp down onto her hips harshly a deep chuff erupting from his chest with his eyes shut.

She gasps when he places his hands on her, sending a small shiver down her spine when she feels his chest vibrate causing her to part her lips more closing her eyes. Blowing the smoke out as he breathes the weird tasting smoke into his lungs and the flash of the old camera goes off but both of them are too lost in the moment to really notice. 

Taehyung chuffs a little longer this time almost turning it into a deep growl as he squeezes her soft squishy body. Tightening his long fingers almost hard enough to leave bruises on her delicate hips when her lips ghost over his and before he knew it he had taken his first hit of weed in his life.

The fact it came from the one person he admires the most sitting on his lap holding him like a vice as if he was going to float aways any given moment. Getting him high? Now that was just the icing on the cake and all he needed was the strawberry on top. 

He was about to seal his fate with whatever god chose to play with him tonight until the rough clearing of someone's throat from across the way jerks him out of his reverie once again. He turns his head quickly causing Y/n to thump her forehead against his collar bone, unknowingly rubbing against his scent gland causing his ears to twitch haphazardly and his eyes to roll back a little. 

"You guys need a minute?" Emily asks as she snaps another picture of the pair of them together when Seokjin drunkenly chimes in. "Do that to me like, fuck." He takes a deep breath and sighs loudly, finishing his bloody mary that was completely full before standing up to throw the pre mix can into the fire. Making a b-line to the two sat on the ground, like a literal b-line. 

Seokjin wobbles and trips over a few holes in the dirt before he makes it to the plaid blanket. "Y/n, You should probably go check on Namjoon- he- he needs to talk to- to you." Seokjin speaks through hiccups and a gag as he tastes the tomato juice on his breath, shaking her slumped figure causing her chest to rumble.

Not quite like a purr or a growl like a hybrid would but even so it causes Seokjin to retract a little and Taehyung to pull on her to sit up right noticing her eyes are closed with a grimace ruining her once smiling cheeks into a frown. 

"Y/n-ie go on, I need to talk to Tae for a minute anyway." Seokjin nudges her by the shoulder, talking surprisingly crystal clear and she reluctantly gets off of the white tiger hybrid, wobbling and tripping like Seokjin had towards the house just over the hill but not before she yells back. "You owe me a drink when I get back Jinnie!" 

Back inside the house Y/n is still fumbling over her own clumsy feet trying to at the very least get up the stairs in one piece. "Ouch- fuck- who put that table there?" She grumbles rubbing her hip that was just assaulted by the table in the hallway a few doors down from Namjoons bedroom, his light is still on so that means one of two things. 

One, he was still awake, Y/n tries to think clearer as she makes her way down the hall hopefully there aren't anymore magic tables to get in her way before she reaches the door.

Number two, he forgot to turn the light off before completely crashing, which was odd for him because he always turned the light off after he was done reading or writing and before actually going to bed. 

Y/n's hand taps the doorknob, trying to grasp it, or at least see it in the dark hallway so she could grab it but instead she rests her head heavily against the door in frustration with a soft thud.

"Why am I like this? Oh yeah, nevermind. Namjoon!" She shouts dragging out the last part of his name thinking that should wake him up and she calls him again.

"Jooniebug! Joon- Joonie?" She calls him over and over again but she hears, what sounds like a grunt or a moan she didn't know, come through the underside of his bedroom door. Somewhat sobering up she knocks on his door and opens it just a sliver, poking her head through the crack. "Namjoon? Are you alright?" She asks timidly, slowly pushing herself through the doorway towards his bed. 

Namjoon lays in his bed, sweating so much part of the it is soaked with an outline of his body. His face is scrunched in what looks like pain, a lot of pain.

He's twisting and turning like he's trying to get away from something. Y/n slowly approaches his side, nearly sobering up this time as she puts her wrist on his forehead flinching away as his skin is boiling hot like the sun.

"Oh my gods, Namjoon you need to wake up we have to get to the hospital now! Oh fuck fuck fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner to check on you-" Y/n reaches for Namjoon's blanket that's been wrapped around his body haphazardly. Tangled with his long legs trying to get him up to go to the emergency room when her wrist is caught in a tight grip and she's yanked onto the bed. Namjoon hovers over her resting his large hands on either side of her head straddling her hips, successfully pinning her to the bed.

His eyes are glowing yellow, his chest vibrating with a deep snarl and his canine teeth bared like he was in danger meanwhile Y/n stares at him scared for her life.

"Namjoon it's me, Y/n." Her voice is trembling with fear yet she still reaches for the wolf hybrid looking him directly in his eyes. She gently caresses his cheek rubbing her thumb under his eye trying not to suffocate under his staggering body heat. 

Slowly his eyes soften, turning back to their calming brown color. He looks at her with wide misty eyes as he'd realized what he did. "Fuck, I'm sorry Y/n I didn't- I mean-"  Namjoons eyes screw shut as he grinds his teeth against one another, trying to hide his face from her.

He fights against his every instinct screaming at him to claim her, she's here right underneath him why won't he do it? "It's okay Joon, we need to take you to the hospital, you're burning up. I think you might have caught-"

"No, no I didn't catch anything- I mean- Fuck this is difficult-" Namjoon stumbles over his words because he's not too terribly coherent when he's with Y/n especially in this moment.

He has her pinned under his body and every time she squirms he bites back a moan caught in his throat. "I've never had this happen to me. I mean, for fuck sake I had to have Jimin explain it to me since he's a domestic hybrid." 

He moves off of her body to sit next to her trying figure out a way to explain the situation at hand. Y/n is still dazed and confused when a light bulb goes off in her head only now remembering what Emily said about scenting for hybrids; maybe this is what she was taking about when she said it hurt like a bitch.

"Joon, if you need to scent me you have to let me know. I understand I'm- not sober- like at all right now but, you can still come to me- if it's going to cause you to be in pain like this." Y/n sits up in the bed and moves closer to the wolf hybrid and Namjoon shifts a little so he can face her when a shockwave of pain hits his chest and his handsome face scrunches as he doubles over with a whine escaping his perfect lips.

"Namjoon! Shit." She  scrambles in front of him kneeling, she grabs his cheeks rubbing his cheekbones soothingly. "Hey you're going to be okay. Emily told me something about scenting earlier a-and it's something every hybrid needs to do with their owner. I mean I don't f-feel like your owner more like a friend but if that's something you really need for your health then go ahead." 

Namjoon lifts his head and their eyes meet, she's smiles brightly bringing him in for a hug when he stops her. "You're willing to let me mark your skin, just like that?" His face scrunches in agony, he rests his head on her shoulder with his hand clutched to his wet t-shirt as she holds him close.

Y/n wonders why he has to mark her, isn't it just scenting, like rubbing his head against her like he was doing right now? He didn't need to bite her surely not but she hates seeing him so miserable and her questions could wait until tomorrow anyways. Right now the wolf hybrid is her only priority. "Whatever you need to do okay?"

The wolf hybrid barely catches the words that spill from her pink lips as he to pulls her into his lap, wrapping his long arms around her waist, resting his large hands on the middle of her back.

Pulling her forward as she safely places her hands onto his shoulders for stability. He buries his face into her chest, catching a hint of coconut from her perfume infused with her familiar scent of leather and cedarwood which causes a deep-seated groan shoot from his chest up his throat and through his gritted teeth as he hums.

"You're aroma is so fucking intoxicating pup, I could get lost in it all fucking day." He purrs giving her chest cavity a few kisses that turn into him licking up her chest to her collarbone where he nips at her sensitive skin. 

Y/n's chest tightens as she sits on the wolf hybrids lap, not fully aware of just what she's agreed to but she lets him continue his assault on her neck when he latches on to the space just below her jaw and her hands move across his blazing skin to the nape of his neck softly pulling at his hair earning a moan from the hybrid underneath her. "Careful pup, I'm not responsible for my actions if you keep pulling on me like that." Namjoon snarls playfully as his hands continue to roam every curve of her astounding body, his iron grip will most likely leave bruises on her delicate skin. 

The wolf hybrid doesn't want to hurt her but his animal instincts are clouding his judgement, his eyes have blown out so much they look black if it wasn't for the tiny slivers of yellow Y/n would be a complete goner for sure.

Namjoon wraps his arms around her completely, silently wishing there was less clothing between them as he leaves bruises on every part of her visible skin along with open mouth kisses before one particularly rough bite meets her chest cavity and she quickly pulls his head back by his hair causing him to let out a growl at her. "Shouldn't have done that pretty girl." Namjoon forcefully pushes her back on the bed baring his teeth with a snarl, his hands on either side of her head resting his hips between her legs as he stares her down. 

"You have no idea what you do to me babygirl, I barely have any control over myself because of you. Wearing those sinful shorts, those tattoos of yours on full display. When you flick your hair behind you causing your intoxicating scent to fill my senses. Fuck, give me one good reason I shouldn't fuck you right now." He snarls as he dips his head into her neck once again littering her skin with more bruises absently grinding himself against her. A mental battle warring within him.

Y/n can hardly think straight, she's too busy thinking about the wolf hybrid and what he could do to her if she let him. The sheer possessiveness he has over her, maybe it was just the hormones talking or maybe the alcohol but damn she'd be a fool to accept anything less from someone like him or the other six, hell, she was just sitting on Taehyungs lap for fuck sake.

Even in her inebriated state she could feel the lust coming off of him in waves, just like now with Namjoon it was just as nerve racking maybe even more so now that he had her like putty in his hands hovering over her like he had no shame whatsoever.

"Use your words baby." He purrs hovering just above her, desire and lust evident in his tone licking and sucking at his chosen spot against her throat. Namjoon isn't very prideful on visible marks yet for some reason unknown to his coherent thought pattern he wanted, no needed everyone to see the many marks he's leaving on her fragile skin. She's staring at him her eyes heavily lidded whimpering as he speaks filthy words to her. "Everyone is still o-outside, need to get back s-soon." She stutters as Namjoon grasps her hips rather tightly with both of his hands, he noticed how she completely dodged his question but didn't think much of it, nudging her throat with his nose pausing for a moment before pulling her head back by her hair earning a moan from her soft pink lips. 

"Do you like it when I pull on you like that? Oh you are definitely my type of woman." She whimpers at him urging him to mark her when he pulls himself up to meet her eyes. "I'm going to mark you now sweetheart, are you ready?" Y/n nods her head as the wolf hybrid gives her a smirk before connecting his lips to hers, it's like fireworks go off in her head, pressing her lips against his with the same fervor, earning a moan of pleasure from the wolf pulling on her hair roughly, leaning back only to connect with her throat biting down hard, his canines piercing her skin causing Y/n to let out a yelp of pain but it's soon muffled by euphoria. 

Y/n feels as though she has ascended past cloud nine and she's up in the stars looking down at the world below. Namjoon is still locked on her throat sucking with a vice like grip on her body before he pulls back slightly, licking her wound as a drop of blood pools in the dip of her collar bone. "Let's get you cleaned up stay here." The wolf clambers off of the bed and into the hallway bathroom as Y/n lays there completely dazed and confused on what just happened to her. She can't think straight to save her life trying to grasp the concept of what scenting truly meant for hybrids, to think she had six more who hadn't even thought about it. She was in for a wild ride if this is how it was going to be every single fucking time.

Namjoon comes back with a warm towel and starts cleaning the blood that has now dried off of her skin before picking her up and putting her into the bed the correct way. "Take it easy pup, the hazy feeling will go away soon. Could take a few minutes to an hour though." She's thankful for him being informational because if he wasn't and she had to go through this six more times, granted she could just ask the others but she was thankful someone was telling her.

Maybe it was the initial stinging burn that started when he bit into the column of her throat or maybe it was the clouded high she felt afterwards that was causing her to currently see double. "I have to get back out there Jin owes me a drink." Namjoon rolls his eyes at her stubborn attitude and tries to get her to lay back down until she could think straight but she doesn't take sit the fuck down for an answer as she stumbles her way back outside with the wolf hybrid holding her hand being pulled outside. 

A/N: So what do we think about this chapter? I feel like it's all over the place honestly but that's a writers critique on their own stuff I guess.

+ Taehyung working on an old camera and taking pictures of Y/n? Ugh yes, the way he sees her through the lens is just- ugh I love it.

+ AND NAMJOON???? LIKE EXCUSE YOU SIR!!!! I even surprised myself with that one honestly. (It gets "worse")

+ Petition to see more Drunk and Brutally honest Seokjin, uh yes please?

+ Jimin is such a good pup he just wants to be good for Y/n it's making my heart so happy, his hybrid suits him I think.

+ Anyway I'd love to hear your thoughts on it too! I'll stop talking now.

[traumagenica]

honestly insane how neurotic i get the second i'm aware of any pests in my home

[guinevereslancelot]

why do i feel weirdly guilty for taking a day off of work to have necessary surgery 🤡

[moonsgemini]

nobody knows - rafe cameron

summary: a secret relationship between the kook king the sweet innocent kook & bathroom sex

warnings: 18+, cursing, reader being jealous, alcohol, SMUT, slight choking, semi public sex, pinv

an: hiiii hope y’all enjoy <3 this is a lil shorter than my usual stuff. I need drew starkey bad !! Might turn this into it’s own lil universe

-

This party was going to kill you. The scene in front of you calling for you to do something irrational. It was almost as if he wanted you to accidentally spill wine on Lindsey’s head.

The way her hand constantly found a place on his bicep has you gripping your glass a little tighter. The friendly smile on Rafe’s lips not helping ease your jealousy. Neither was the way he kept leaning down so he could hear her better, as if they were at a rave. It was a fairly small party for crying out loud there was no need for that.

If you had super powers the entire back yard would be lit up in flames with the way you were glaring at the pair. Of course he also wore that shirt you loved on him. The one you had mentioned on multiple occasions that it was your favorite.

You wished you could go over there and yank him down by the collar and smush your lips against his. Let everyone know that it’s your name he’s moaning at night and his lips and body that have your coming undone almost every night.

You wished everyone knew exactly what was going on between them. Then you wouldn’t have to disguise your jealousy as a head ache. You knew it was because of you that the two of you snuck around but you’re starting to want things to change. You couldn’t stand the sight of your man giving another woman attention.

“Garrett is such a dick I can’t believe I didn’t dump him sooner,” Her friend Nessa mumbled.

She hummed and nodded in agreement while finishing off the last of her wine. Not really paying attention to what her friend was saying.

“You’ve been quiet today. More than usual, all good?” Your friend Nessa asked.

You nodded, “Yeah just have a head ache again.”

“Then lets get you another glass, being drunk will help with that,” Nessa grabbed your hand. She led you back over to the small cocktail bar that was set up which was right past Rafe and Lindsey.

As the pair of you passed them you pretended not to see Rafe. Obviously Rafe’s eyes followed you, not really paying attention to whatever the girl in front of him had been yapping about.

He was trying this new thing where he wasn’t going to be an asshole to people. Unless they deserved it obviously, but it was really fucking hard when all he wanted to do was talk to you. The old him would have just ditched her mid sentence but that’s not who he wanted to be.

He watched as you poured yourself some more wine, your friend going on about something as you nodded along. His pretty girl always being the best listener.

After a minute you said something to your friend before walking into the house. After a few seconds Rafe said something about going to the bathroom and left the babbling blonde behind. He didn’t care he wanted to find you.

When he stepped inside he saw your half empty wine glass on the kitchen counter. He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and knocked.

“I’ll be out in a minute Ness!” You shouted from behind the door.

“It’s Rafe,” he said.

The locked clicked and the door opened to reveal your pretty frame. You had chosen to wear that dress he loves in the color he loves on you. He wasn’t the only one who chose what they’re wearing for a specific reason. You poked your head out and looked both ways before tugging him inside by the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at your antics

“Don’t you think it looks more suspicious if we’re in here together?” He smirked with a raised brow. In all honesty he didn’t really give a fuck if people saw you two together but he knows you aren’t ready.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like you were flirting it up out there with Lindsey.”

His smirk widened at the realization that you were jealous. He liked how around everyone you were always sweet and polite, sometimes even a little timid. But with him it was a different story. He loved the way you talked back to him and rolled your eyes at him. He loved the dirty things that sweet innocent mouth said to him when he was relentlessly fucking you.

“You jealous baby?” He stepped forward so the small of your back hit the counter.

Your scowl deepened as you crossed your arms, “No.”

He reach up stroked your cheek gently. His eyes going down to your lips, “You being a tough girl now. Come on baby you know she doesn’t have anything on you.”

Your scowl softened, “Well it doesn’t matter because it’s not like she knows that.”

Rafe leaned forward and kissed your cheek then your jaw and continued his way down to your pulse point, “I’ll let her know, we can let everyone know princess. I can fuck you right here right now.”

You gasped at his words and at the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, “Rafe,” you practically moaned.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too opposed to that,” His finger slipped under your dresses strap and pulled it down. His lips kissing the newly exposed skin as he went down to your chest, “Make you scream my name as I bend you over.”

You wanted to talk back to him but you couldn’t as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands had moved down your waist and to your thighs. Slowly dragging his fingertips up them until he plucked at your stringy underwear letting it snap back against your skin. He made you such an incoherent mess and you loved it.

With everything in you you mustered back a reply, “You sure you want Lindsey to hear.”

He chuckled against the top of your breasts that were exposed. His fingers now pressing against your wet clothed cunt.

“It seems like you want her to hear baby,” He pressed his fingers against your clit and rubbed soft circles, “look at how wet you are huh. My dirty girl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the sensation. His fingers slipped under your tiny panties and he slid them through your sopping cunt and groaned against your neck, “God I love how you feel.”

You tugged his face up to meet your desperate eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned at the feeling. You loved when Rafe fucked you but you loved kissing him even more. His fingers picked up the pace a little against your throbbing clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your legs.

“Please let me fuck you right here baby,” He mumbled against your lips, “I’ll do it so good. I’ll make you cum all over my cock.”

That whole being more nice thing Rafe was working on never applied to you. You were probably the only person on the island who had ever heard the kook king say please and thank you. Sometimes he even practically begged to fuck you or eat you out. You lived for it. It made your skin tingle and your tummy flutter.

You nodded your head, “Yes Rafey.”

He pulled his fingers away from you and practically shoved them into your mouth. You loved it though, tasting yourself on his long thick fingers. Your tongue licking them clean. He bit his lip and groaned with hooded eyes. Rafe was utterly obsessed with you.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop and leaned in capturing your mouth in his in another searing kiss. It was sloppy and made your head spin. He pulled away spinning you around. Your hands landed on the counter to steady yourself as he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Rafe gave your ass a firm squeeze and took a few seconds to admire you on this position. He loved that he could still see your pretty face in the mirror, he could see just how fucked you were for him. Your swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair all because of him. It made his heart beat faster and his ego grow. He loves that no one else has known you in this way until he came around.

You watched as he began to undo his pants and pull his thick cock out. You whimpered at the sight of him stroking himself a few times. Grabbing the tiny string of your panties he pulled it to the side before lining himself up with you.

“You’re a fucking dream,” He groaned as he slipped his tip in. The warm wetness of your pussy making him throw his head back. Slowly he slotted himself in you. The feeling of you clenching around him already getting him so close.

“Fuck you’re coming home with me,” He groaned as he began moving in and out.

You nodded with hazy lust filled eyes. You’d do anything he asked of you. The feeling of him stretching you out was out of this world. You didn’t understand how he was always able to hit that spot that had your back arching and mouth forming into an o.

He fucked you as quietly as he could. Rafe didn’t give a fuck if people heard but he knew you did. It’s not like you were embarrassed of Rafe and he knew that. It would just make things complicated if people knew. There’d be constant prying and knit picking at everything you two did and how you acted.

“Oh Rafe,” you mumbled standing up so your back was against his chest. He groaned and wrapped one of his hands around your throat. Your head fell back against his shoulder.

Rafe’s other hand found it’s way to your chest. He pinched one of your nipples and squeezed your breast. He did the same thing to the other one before sliding down your stomach and to your clit. He rubbed circles as he continued to thrust into you.

He moved the hand that was around your throat to hold your jaw. Tugging your head down to look in the mirror.

“You see that baby, He nodded towards your reflection, “see how good you look when I’m inside you. My girl takes me so damn well.”

“I-I mmmph oh Rafe,” you mumbled incoherently but he knew what you were trying to say. He could tell you were close by the way you tightened around him and the way you dripping down him.

“I know,” He groaned, “I’m there too.” A loud moan began escaping you but rafe moved his hand up quickly to cover your mouth.

“Shit look at you, no one will ever compare. Fuck I’m all yours,” He grunted.

Your moans were muffled by his big hand as you came. He wasn’t farm behind as he buried his face in your neck as he came inside you.

“Well we’ve never done that before,” you giggled.

He huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure we’ve done that plenty of times before.”

You shook your head, “We’ve never done it in a bathroom at a party.”

He smirked as he pulled out of you and adjusting your clothes for you. He gave your ass a gentle slap, “I should make you jealous more often.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him, “So what if I was jealous.”

He kissed you, “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m yours.”

You smiled softly as your heart swelled, “Rafe maybe we should tell people.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Really?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, “mhmm I want to go on dates here in town. I want to be the one who has your attention all night and when I get too drunk you drive me home.”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

After fixing yourselves to look presentable again you opened the door and led Rafe out not really thinking. But before you could even step through the doorway you were face to face with Lindsey who had a scowl on her face.

“Finally,” she rolled her eyes but then she saw the person standing behind you, “oh that’s where you disappeared to?” that scowl never leaving her.

Rafe nodded with a smirk, “My girl needed me.”

You blushed as you stepped past her with Rafe’s hand in yours with smiles plastered on both your faces.

[em-ontv]

Need some space — d.w.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: Dean could never keep his hands off of you, latching onto you whenever he could

Content: fluff, established relationship, clingy/touch-starved Dean, not proofread, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: 912

Dean was a lot of things—sharp-tongued, reckless at times, stupidly brave—but you hadn't expected "clingy boyfriend" to be added to the list.

Yet somehow, here you were, flipping through dusty books with his head in your lap, eyes half-closed like an oversized housecat. He shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch, clearly uninterested in the research you were trying to get through.

"Dean," you sighed, nudging the book away from where it almost brushed against his face. "How am I supposed to read with your giant head in the way?"

"Don't mind me, sweetheart." he mumbled, eyes closing and voice bordering a purr. "You're doing great. Keep it up."

You gave his forehead a flick, earning a dramatic groan. He swatted half-heartedly at your hand but refused to move an inch. Instead, he stretched his legs out further, making himself even more comfortable.

"Seriously? You're not even gonna pretend to help?" you glared at him. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if you started flipping through some books too."

"Helping," he said lazily, cracking one eye open and giving you a smirk. "Emotional support."

Without waiting any further, he reached up, took your hand, and pressed it to his head. Your fingers tangled in his hair instinctively, and he melted under your touch like butter on a hot pan.

When you stopped and started to pull your hand back so you could flip a page of the book, he let out a pathetic whine, pushing your hand back against his head, like he’d die before letting you go.

"You're such a baby. I have to get this done before Sam comes back." you muttered, squishing his face between your fingers, making him pout.

"Cut it out," he grumbled, frowning up at you, though the way his frown dissolved when you laughed said otherwise.

"If you're not gonna help, you're not gonna complain either." you said, and he retaliated by kissing your wrist, peppering soft, warm kisses all the way up your arm.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. Dean's touchy-feely tendencies had only escalated since you started dating. Take the case last week, for example.

You'd been interviewing a witness at a diner, trying to keep your questions subtle and professional. Dean, however, had other ideas.

"So, you're saying the lights flickered just before you heard the noise?" you asked the frazzled waitress.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, glancing nervously between you and Dean.

Before you could respond, his hand found its way to the small of your back. Not a casual graze either—nope—it was a slow, deliberate caress, his fingers curling just enough to make his presence known. You froze, shooting him a warning glance, trying to shrug him off, but he was already leaning in closer, the picture of shamelessness.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. "You're doing amazing. Keep it up."

"Dean," you hissed through a forced smile. "Go sit down."

"What? I'm just keeping an eye on you," he replied, all wide-eyed innocence, grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The poor waitress looked like she wanted to crawl into the freezer.

And then there was that time in the library when you'd been deep into research, scanning page after page. Dean had sauntered in, plopped down next to you, and proceeded to rest his chin on your shoulder while humming AC/DC under his breath.

"Keep reading, sweetheart. I’m comfy." he murmured when you tried to shoo him off, knowing he'd just distract you. His arm snaked around your waist, and before you could protest, he was already pressing slow, feather-light kisses along your jaw.

Or the night you snuck into the kitchen for some quiet time with a PB&J. Five minutes later, Dean appeared in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked half-asleep, his brows pinched in sleepy frustration.

"What are you doing?" you asked, mid-bite of a PB&J.

"Couldn't sleep," he said, padding over to you with a frown. "Why'd you leave?"

"Dean, I was gone for five minutes."

He made a noise of dissatisfaction, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling lazily into the crook of your neck. "Come back to bed with me." he muttered, his voice soft and heavy with sleep.

It was ridiculous. The same tough-as-nails hunter who'd taken on demons, monsters, and literal death couldn't go five minutes without missing you. But as much as you teased him for it, it brought a certain warmth to your heart.

Because for all his bravado, Dean was just a guy who'd spent most of his life terrified of losing the people he cared about, loved. His over-the-top clinginess? It was his way of making up for lost time.

"Alright, fine," you said, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich and dusting your hands off.

He grinned—smug at first, but it quickly melted into something far softer. He let out a content hum, nuzzling closer.

"Right now, please." he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness.

"Alright, just don't fall asleep on me in the middle of the kitchen." you said, rubbing his arm, leading him back to the comfort of your shared bed.

Under the covers, Dean curled up against you, his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried in your neck. His breath was gentle and even, warm against your skin. Just before sleep took him, he murmured faintly, "Love you, sweetheart."

[divinedelusional]

rafe being grumpy when he's sick

rafe cameron x female reader

word count: 678

warnings: none

rafe never got sick anymore like ever

ever since he hit puberty he wasn't catching cold anymore, no health problems (expect for being fucked in the head)

so to say you were surprised when you saw him lying in bed under a thick duvet in the middle of summer would be an understatement

"yo topper what happened to rafe? i leave for three days and my boyfriend's completely wiped out??"

"is he asleep?"

"yeah! that's what's weird!"

"weird? girl you're lucky he's asleep, he's been a complete diva last two days"

rafe woke up after an hour and told you that he must have got sick when they were out at the beach and suddenly it started pouring cold rain and he was soaked before he got in the car

"yeah they brought me some syrup so cough is gone, but who gives a shit, this fuckin fever is too much anyways"

turns out rafe barely ate the last two days since he couldn't get out of bed and he was sick of the food topper and kelce were ordering for him

"wendy's not a type of food you eat when you want to get better rafe"

"hell i know, but what, is it my fault i have to have idiots as friends?"

you rolled your eyes and told him to lay down with cold compress for the fever

in the meantime you drove to get grosseries and made him chicken soup

you could see he really liked it but when he ate he mumbled a quiet "thanks" and went upstairs

that's the last you saw him that day and you were kinda mad at him

next day it didn't got better since he noticed you didn't come to bed last night

"i went to guest bedroom, im not catching whatever you got"

you didn't see him much for another day, only when he was coming to the kitchen for next bottle of water

so at least he took your advice to stay hydrated

not like you could hear him saying: hydration this, hydration that, who tf would want to pee that much

topper was right, you lived with a diva under one roof

grumpy, 6'2, hoodie clad diva

but on the third day you were finally about to reach a truce

rafe came for breakfast and you could see he felt better, as he was almost smiling and wasn't shivering

you ate breakfast in silence but he followed you like a lost puppy to the couch where you sprawled out to watch tv

you were watching real housewives of atlanta and rafe sat down with you for 3 episodes fourth now staring

he was quiet but all of the sudden he started to complain how awful it is to be sick in the summer

he tried to grab your attention, he knew you were testing him, you never binged rhoa for that long

you also knew exactly what he was doing, he was trying to make up with you but you weren't having his ways, so you informed him that you're going to take a swim

rafe was upset that his plan didn't work out, apparently not only sitting through four episodes of rhoa wasn't enough sacrifice for you but it also made him hungry

so he decided to win you back with very simple and little bit goofy solution

you came back after hour and a half, also hungry

you found rafe sitting at the table

there was a faint delicious smell in the kitchen

"you made soup?" you asked rafe after taking a peek to his plate

rafe didn't respond and held out a spoon to you, letter pasta forming words: im sorry bby

you couldn't be mad at him anymore

you ladled yourself a bowl of soup and formed a response on your spoon as quickly as you could

rafe smilled at words ur cute and let out a chuckle

"i missed this smile" you said and kissed him lightly, happy when you felt him smiling into the kiss

"and i missed those lips"

a/n: my first work for rafe, hope it was okay and feedback is really appreciated ♡

bottom divider by: @astralnymphh

[rustedhearts]

somebody told me (fratboy!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve has made it very clear that he doesn’t want you. but he doesn’t want anyone else to have you either.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

i want your things in my room (part one) the library record store

tags: angst, mean!steve, so much tension, yeah the football player is tim riggins in my mind and so what?! i literally wrote this months ago, enjoy <3

"heaven ain't close in a place like this"

— somebody told me, the killers

may 1st, 2009

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

It came hissed in the doorway between the second floor fraternity steps and the sticky wood paneled wall. Steve hovered above you, breath sour with beer and a new bottle dripping condensation through the hand dangling at his side. His eyes were slanted and directed down at your eyes watching him in surprise.

30 seconds ago, he cornered you against the wall after your swift trip to the bathroom. You caught eyes with him across the kitchen nearly an hour ago, and it took all this time of carefully scanning your movements when you weren’t looking for Steve to get you away from the junior you came with.

“What are you talking about?” you laughed. “It’s a party.”

“I didn’t invite you.”

You swallowed, trying not to let your good-natured grin drop. You were well aware that Steve didn’t invite you.

After he practically ran from your bedroom two weeks ago, things went radio silent between you and Steve. You texted, he didn’t answer. You called once, thought about leaving a voicemail, and spent a whole weekend crying when you realized: he didn’t want you. Someone who wants you doesn’t flee your room the way he did that night.

You were perfectly content wallowing in your idiocy for ever thinking Steve Harrington could have a special spot for you in his tiny, shriveled heart—until said junior you were attending tonight’s party with saw you at the dining hall.

You were studying late into the evening, sitting all alone at a table near the fireplace with your books sprawled out and your picked-at dinner in scraps. He came staggering in with a band of other men, all sweaty and half-dressed from practice. He was a linebacker on the football team, and he looked damn good easing into the chair across from you and making it squeak.

His name was Tim and he had a handsome smile, and a slow way of talking in this Texan drawl that had you blushing. For the ten minutes he sat and talked to you and asked you what you were so focused on, you forgot all about Steve.

You texted for a week, grabbed a few lunches and coffees together, and now here you were. At a frat party, invited not by Steve—but Tim.

“I know that,” you told Steve, pulling your arms up to fold them over your chest. Steve’s eyes flashed down to your breasts cupped under a black lace bra peeking through a red shirt.

“I came with Tim.”

Steve screwed up his nose, pulling back a little. “Tim? Tim who?”

Huffing, you pushed yourself off the wall and pressed Steve back by the shoulder. “Tim, Steve. Now, excuse me, but I’m gonna go find him—“

“No, hey.”

Steve snatched you by the elbow, causing you to fumble on the carpeting and narrowly miss someone heading up the steps. You gasped, stumbling into Steve still against the wall.

“Steve, what the hell?”

“‘m not done talkin’ to you.”

You glared at him, wrenching your arm away with force. “I don’t care.”

You rushed down the steps before he could speak again, head suddenly swollen with confusion, heart pounding hard in your chest. He hadn’t touched you in weeks. Hadn’t spoken to you, looked at you, so much as acknowledged you since the last time he was inside you.

All it took to get his attention was to finally attempt to move on? It was bullshit. It made your cheeks flame and your mouth line with sweetness that made your stomach coil. It wasn’t fair.

“Hey.” That soft Texan drawl called to you.

You raised your head from where you were glaring at the floor, softening when they found Tim’s green gaze. He grinned at you, still holding your red plastic cup from earlier. You retrieved it from him and allowed yourself to tuck into his side under the weight of his arm.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you told him. “Long bathroom line.”

Steve stepped into the fluorescents of the kitchen, weaving his way through bodies with wide, squared shoulders. He tossed a quick glance your way and shook his head as he made his way through the room. And what pissed you off most was the fact that he thought he had the right. The right to be upset, the right to think anything of you.

“Baby, you look so pretty in that lil’ top,” Tim said, tipping his chin down to you with a lopsided grin. He was a few beers in and loopy.

You grinned. “Do I?”

“Mhm. Real pretty—come gimme a kiss.”

You perked up on your toes to meet his mouth. His lips were always warm and soft and soaked in beer. Lord, college boys drank a lot. If you closed your eyes and forgot where you were, sometimes he even tasted like Steve.

But Tim always called you baby, and Tim always called you back. He walked you to class with your books in his arms and a hand on your waist, opened the door for you, and helped you into his truck when he took you for coffee.

And Steve? Steve acted like you didn’t exist if his dick wasn’t inside you.

Your tongue was just slipping past Tim’s teeth when you were torn apart by force. Tim stumbled aside, knocking you as he went and catching you quickly with a hand on your waist. Both your heads turned sharply toward the assailant.

Steve stood near the island where Tim had previously been, holding a bottle of beer and a look of nonchalance. His eyes glided from Tim’s look of surprise to your absolute glare.

“Sorry about that,” Steve said coolly. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Tim resumed his spot beside you, and your body felt like it was vibrating against his. Every part of you was burning—and you couldn’t tell from what. Anger? Humiliation? Arousal? Maybe all three. You swallowed with difficulty and let Tim pull you in again. But your eyes never left Steve’s.

And his never widened from their slits. The ball of muscle near his jaw bone knotted when he clenched his teeth and it didn’t move.

“You okay, baby?” Tim’s attention was on you, and you looked away from Steve to smile at your date.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

The footballer had an easier lightness to him. Breezy, taking things with a grain of salt. He didn’t bother fighting Steve for his ‘mistake.’ He didn’t scold him for knocking you. He only smiled at you with a pair of pretty dimples and kissed the top of your head, arm bending around your shoulders.

“Wanna get outta here?”

Because he’d be going home with you. And it only took Tim a few moments to deduce that it was that fact alone that would drive Steve crazy. Even if you couldn’t.

You nodded, hand rubbing over his chest. You spared one more glance toward Steve, who had stepped away toward the other side of the kitchen with slow, slithering steps. He took a swig of his beer and clenched his teeth on the swallow.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Tim held your hand on the way out, guiding you down the front steps and toward the street. Your arms swung over the pavement, and you almost felt compelled to check if Steve was watching. What the hell was wrong with you?

“So what was that?”

You peered up from the pavement to Tim’s green eyes. “What?”

He cocked his head back at the brightly-lit house dimming behind you. The music faded the further you went. He was still wearing that dimpled grin.

“Back there, with that guy.”

You inhaled, looking back toward your feet. It only took a few moments to decide that you didn’t want to lie.

“We…used to hookup. But it’s completely over, I swear.” You skirted to a stop, gathering Tim’s other hand and meeting his eye again. “He’s just being a dick about it.”

He snorted. “I sort of got that when he came from across the room to ram into me.”

A giggle burst from your mouth, but it drooped into a frown. “I’m sorry.”

Tim frowned, brows creasing. “For what? You don’t got nothin’ t’ be sorry for, pretty girl.”

The warmth pulsing in your chest you could certainly make sense of now. “Okay.”

He grinned again, dropping one of your hands to squeeze your chin affectionately. “Okay. Come on.”

You walked the rest of the way to your apartment with his heavy arm over your shoulders again. And Steve watched from the front seat of his car, knowing exactly where he was going as he peeled away from the curb.

✶ ✶

“Alright, goodnight, little lady.”

“Goodnight, Tim.”

Your voices were punctuated by the slam of a door. Quick footsteps followed, a rhythmic succession ascending the staircase. Over the creaky board on the other side of the door, then—

“What the fuck?”

It burst open to a streak of lamplight in your bedroom and one Steve Harrington shadowing it at the foot of your bed. He had your university football teddy bear in his hands. It was a gift from Tim and it had his number on the bear’s soft yellow t-shirt.

Steve leapt to his feet. “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t seem to close your mouth. It hung open as you watched Steve raise his brows and jerk his chin expectantly. He tossed his arms out on either side.

“Huh?”

You came to your senses with a hard blink. “What am I doing? What the hell are you doing? How did you get in here?”

“Same way I always get in,” he quipped.

Heat touched your cheeks as you stepped into the room and gently clamped the door shut. You snatched the teddy bear from his hand and placed it back on your desk silently. Your purse fell to the floor where you were standing.

“You didn’t answer me. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Is this about the party or Tim?” You kicked your shoes off one by one, keeping your back to Steve and his stupidly pretty face.

You had such a soft spot for pretty boys, it seemed.

“You know what? Both.”

“Okay,” you sighed, pulling the first layer of your outfit off. Steve’s eyes scanned the lace of your tank top as red fabric made its way toward the hamper. “Tim and I are seeing each other. Tim wanted to go to the party, which happened to be at your frat—alas, there we were.”

The mattress springs yipped when you bounced on the edge to pull a clean pair of socks on. You wanted to strip your jeans, too, but you didn’t want to give Steve any ideas. He was already standing there with his arms crossed and his biceps and chest all puffed and sculpted. He already had that handsome pink tinge to his cheeks: his beer blush.

“Well, it’s weird,” Steve stated.

You rolled your eyes, exhaling a snicker. “Okay, Steve. Can you leave now? I’m tired.”

Steve tapped his finger on his arm, watching you shift on the bed and feign exhaustion. He chewed his cheek for a minute before reaching for his hair.

“Well…you know I missed you, right, sweetheart?”

He dropped his hands and softened his eyes into that soft, puppy-dog pout. Your scoff was sharp and sliced through the room. Steve stepped toward the bed.

“Right.”

“No, really,” he urged, sinking into the mattress before you. “You know I was just made president, and I just got super busy, that’s all. I meant to call you.”

You tipped your head at him and stared directly into those faux-pleading hazels. "How come everything you say to me sounds like a line, Steve?"

Steve sat unblinking for a moment. Then his cheeks colored a rosy shade, and he covered it with a cruel scoff and another sweep of his hair.

"What? Come on, you-you know I like you."

You pushed off the bed, head shaking. That warmth was slowly but surely returning to your body in violent form. You pulled your hair off your neck and padded toward the window to open it. Your room already smelled too much like Steve.

"You like playing with me," you corrected, keeping your back to him even as the mattress shrieked with his freed weight.

"You know, you're such a bitch-"

You spun around, shoving him by the chest. Steve stumbled a step back, but the smirk on his face made you regret even touching him at all.

"Get out."

"Hell no," he bit, lunging back into place. He grabbed at your arm again. "You think Tim wants you either? You think he doesn't just like playing with you? You always gave it up so easy."

Tears bubbled in the edges of your eyes. A tingling burn settled in the bridge of your nose. You shoved at him again and angled your head away from him and his sneering scowl and beer breath.

"Fuck you, Steve."

“You’re trying to replace me? Hmm?” Steve cocked his head to meet your eye, and you wished you could will away the hot tear trickling down your cheek. “That’s fine, sweetheart. I’ve got ten of you in my pocket.”

He shoved your arm away with a scowl, and you sniffled as he headed toward the door. All the hot-headed, enraged words pulsing on your tongue shriveled and died—and they were replaced with a hurt and heartbreak that was so familiar it was almost comfortable.

Yet as he opened your bedroom door, you rubbed your arm where he had held you and sniffled.

“Stay away from me, Steve.”

Door in hand, Steve turned and scoffed at you. “No problem.”

✶ ✶

You spent the next hour crying between makeup wipes and playing your radio on low. Pulled a faded grey t-shirt from your pajama drawer and tried not to look at Steve’s face rumpled at the bottom on a white t-shirt. Why hadn’t you thrown it away? He was so hard to let go.

With the football bear cradled to your chest, you wiggled under the covers and reached for the lamp. Your phone buzzed consecutively on the nightstand, causing pause. The plastic clicked on its hinges as it flipped open, and the sheets rustled when you shot up in bed.

u up?

tim is a fckn l0ser

answer

i’m sorry

The first time he called, you didn’t answer. You watched the small square light up with his name, felt the plastic shake in your palm with the force of its ring.

answer

Another call. You pressed the green button, but waited.

“Hello? Hey-hello?” His faded voice brought you from your daze.

You pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Jesus, do you not read your texts?”

“Wh-what…why are you calling me?” Disbelief colored every syllable from your mouth.

Steve huffed. “I just…how much do you really know about this Tim guy?”

You looked at the bear sitting on your lap against the sheets. “About as much as I know about you, Steve.”

The line buzzed with quiet for a while. You played with the hem of the teddy bear’s shirt and gnawed on your lip. An ache balled in your chest when the thought of him hanging up occurred to you.

“Fair,” he said quietly.

Sighing, you shimmied under the covers again and reclined back against the headboard.

“Why are you calling me, Steve?” This time it was softer. You couldn’t give in to him anymore, but you had to hear him out. He never called you like this.

He never acted like he cared until now.

“Just…don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

You scoffed, pressing your palm against your head. Despite the way your heart pulsed with excitement, and the way your nerves locked up at the thought—you knew Steve didn’t mean any of it. He was just jealous. He wanted you as his personal plaything and he didn’t like to share.

You couldn’t swallow it anymore. You couldn’t keep biting your tongue to stay the perfect toy in hopes he might see you as more.

You had to end it.

“You already took care of that, Steve.”

You reveled in the buzzing silence of the other line for a beat.

“Goodnight,” you told him.

And you hung up the phone.

[teletubbyinlipstick]

More Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader pleaaasseeeee? 🥹

(ps, love your writing!)

OwlHybrid!Poly TF141 X Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading. You're all so sweet for the support! I'm negl. I didn't expect people to read it, haha. I'm so shocked by the love.

Thankyou @bina-passion-fruit for the morning after idea! See her reblog of the first part for the gist. And please feel free to send in scenarios you could see these birbs end up in!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day IS tense. The atmosphere has never been this suffocating.

Not in their own home.

Gaz sits curled up in Johnny's frame at the breakfast nook, head resting on the older mans shoulder, a deep frown setting into his face. His eyes are crusted a little, nose still deep red and cheeks puffy. He looks thoroughly exhausted, like he hasn't slept.

They all do.

Johnny has a cuppa sitting untouched. It's luke warm by now, but he can't bring himself to drink it. Face mirroring Gaz's, glaring down at the coffee like it has personally offended him. Every couple minutes, he huffs deeply, eyes darting away from the cup to glance around as if in thought, but he inevitably ends up gazing lost into his cup again.

Price and Simon are at the stove and counter. Quietly discussing things that need to be done for the day. There's lulls of silence in their convos, moments where their minds wander to the dove sleeping down the hall. Price feels guilt eating him alive. He's hunched a bit, chin tucked down in a clear sign of forlorn. Simon continues to run a hand up his spine soothingly, pressing closer to offer as much comfort as he can. But he can't deny the stabs of agony he, himself, feels.

It's raw. It sucks.

And Simon feels so fucking lost in this moment. He wants to gather all his mates in his arms (even you) and shush, coo, and coddle until there's nothing but purrs, chirps, and preened content lovers piled into a nest. He wants to scent you and rub you in their things to let you know you're safe and cared for now. He sees the trauma, the fear when Johnny reached for you. The self soothing you do by rubbing your arms.

He sees you. And in doing so, he sees himself. A scared fledgling unsure of the world, burned and bitten, spat upon by those who swore to love them.

Someone hurt you.

Tore at your feathers until you were too scared to take flight. And if Ghost ever gets a name he'd tear the motherfuckers wings from their spine.

The pitter patter of footsteps approaching the kitchen lifted them from their haze, four pairs of eyes snapping to you as you sleepily shuffled in. You wore a simple oversized t shirt and sweatpants to bed, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes and cheeks red and puffy from sleep. They can see the tear streaks dried from last night and it breaks their heart all over again.

Price makes the first move, taking a small step towards you with a plate held out. Buttered toast, sizzling eggs, and red srawberries sit on top.

"G'mornin' sweetheart, hope you slept well. 'Ve cooked some breakfast. There's coffee in the pot. Help yourself." Soft eyes gaze down at you. He's hunched inwards a little, head tilted down and the sweetest smile gracing his face. You feel very flustered, keenly aware of the 3 other sets of eyes intently watching.

Taking a deep breath, you offer a half smile, grasping the plate with slightly shaky hands.

"Uhm..t-thankyou, sir"

"John."

Wide doe eyes peer up at him, shock clear on your face. He feels his lips quirk at the sight.

"My mates call me John. Not sir. We're equal here, okay? You call me by my name." When his hand reaches out, you don't swat it away this time, only watching in marvel as he tucks hair behind your ears, crows feet aligning his kind eyes.

Taking a shaky breath, a soft, geniune smile spreads across your face, eyes darting to your feet and back up as you turn to the table. Johnny and Gaz are staring right at you, wings perked up. Gaz is quickest to his feet, pulling out a chair, a handsome grin settling on face. Pretty boy, you muse to yourself. Sitting down with a grateful smile and a hushed thankyou.

A hand reaches past your shoulder, jarring and unexpected. You whip your head up to see Simon offering a placate smile down at you, other palm face up to soothe. You tilt your head owlishly, blinking at him. It causes the older mans lips to quirk up on one side, brown eyes softening as he gazes down at you. He nods his head towards the table, and upon looking back to your plate, you realize he sat down a fork...oh.

Tears welled in your eyes, and a sniffle broke through. Simon's eyes widened a fraction, quickly backing away with both his hands raised, palm up.

"'M sorry luvie, didn't mean t'startle you."

It was sincere, filled with guilt. A small sob breaks past your lips. Johnny whines high in his throat, reaching out for your hand across the table, only to stop short, unsure if you'd appreciate the contact. His lips are once again pulled down, eyes saddened.

"Bonnie?..." Murmured so quietly into the air, the boys hold their breath, pulling their wings in to appear smaller. You wipe at your face again, sniffling, eyes glossy and cheeks rosy. And when you finally lifted your head, the last thing they expected was to see the brightest grin painted across your face, pure happiness shining, tear streaks lined with joy.

"No one's ever been so kind to me...thankyou. All of you."

Oh, dove, you haven't seen anything yet.

[lokischocolatefountain]

home in three days, do not wash

Fandom: Gladiator II Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Wife!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: age gap, mild choking, mentions of child death, hurt comfort, breeding kink, lactation, reader has children, taboo for the time oral sex, talk of war. Word count: 3.6k words Summary: Your General returns home ravenous for you and you cannot decline him, even if any exposure of his act would bring him great shame. A/N: Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the awesome graphics. Napoleon said 'be home in three days, do not wash' and what was I supposed to do? Not use it for our big thicc roman general returning home from war to fuck us? I did research and shit and came to know that eating pussy was a big no no back in the day. dj Khaled would love to be an ancient roman ig. also learned that rich ladies didn't breastfeed and used a wet nurse but they knew that breastfeeding could help and some women did it. Outside all that research, it's just depravity, baby. Anyway, validate my depravity with some comments pls.

Laughter echoed through the hallways of your palatial home and you stood at a balcony with the best view from atop the hill. The campaign that had taken your husband away had finally come to an end with victory for Rome. Far from the hustle and bustle of the city, you were always one of the last people to receive the latest news of importance. This time was an exception to the rule. 

Home in three days. Do not wash.

All you wanted when you received the message was to run in the direction of the roads that would bring your beloved home. Three days were too long. You wanted to curtail the long wait, run to him so you would be in one another’s arms in a day and a half. 

But you chose the more realistic path and prepared the home for his arrival. The servants polished every surface, your handmaiden ensured you had all your most preferred clothing— that which he loved to see on your body. The kitchen was busy preparing every meal that the master loved. Your two older children with your general busied themselves recollecting everything they learned from their private tutor to impress their father. 

Your youngest, your first son, was still so young he had never met his father. He was the child your dearest had longed to have for so long. For all the luck the gods had given him in the battlefield, they had given very little in the way of children to carry his legacy. In his heart, he was father to seven daughters and six sons. The gods had only allowed four daughters to live. Two of his sons passed in infancy, one passed in birth, taking his mother with him. One other was taken by disease and another killed in battle. 

He now had only one son and he hadn’t yet the joy of holding him in his arms. Everyday that Marcus was in the battlefield was torture. Babe on your breast and fear in your heart over whether his father would live to see him. Fear sometimes subsided for anger to have its way. That very anger remained in your chest, prepared to unleash on him the moment he stepped into the home. 

When the sun dimmed, night crept in and so did Marcus. You refused to greet him at the door. A warm welcome was reserved for men who told their wives where they were going before they left. You had half a mind to ask for a bath to be prepared. To wash yourself with milk and fragrant oils in front of him so he could see your defiance in action. 

But you remained in the balcony, eyes set on the moon who served as your companion when he left you. For all the fury you had for him, there was also an ache of sympathy. You wouldn’t sour his mood the moment he entered. He must see his son first. Then you would see to that he groveled at your feet for his cruelty. 

Just as you thought, you had a long time to relax on the settee. He always went to his children first. Be it after months away on the battlefield or a mere day in the city. You asked for your son’s crib to be moved to your daughters’ room so he would be able to see them all at once, saving him the battle of choosing between his great loves. You’d sent word to him on the battlefield after you gave birth, sent him the name of his son so he would know to include him in his prayers. 

You heard whispers of his voice conversing with a servant. Your heart quickened its pace, each thud against your ribs matching the thuds of his feet against the floor. Oh how you wanted to turn around. It had been so long since your eyes were blessed with him. His towering height, broad frame, the pink of his lips and the curls you so loved to comb through with your fingers. You trembled, the cold breeze reminding you how devoid you’d been of his warmth. Yet you were resolved to not give yourself up to him so soon. You stayed in place and closed your eyes.

He stopped behind you and your name spilled from his lips like honey. It had been so long since anyone spoke your name so… The servants called you mistress and your children called you mother. Your birth family only wrote your name in their many letters. He was the only one who spoke your name, leaving you without hearing your own name since his departure. But you stayed, did not turn, did not open your eyes. He spoke it again, his voice gentle but louder as he stopped at your side. 

“Open your eyes, dearest.” 

“Where have you come, General?” You asked, your voice cold enough to be the envy of the winter breeze. 

“General?” He asked, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. 

“Are you not a General?” You taunted, finally opening your eyes. He looked weary from battle and travel. You longed to take him to your chambers and strip him of his armor to count his wounds, kiss each one be it new or old. His hair was grayer than when he left, his skin duller, but his eyes were still the soft brown that gave you peace when you first saw him as his young bride. 

“Your General,” he said with a small smile as though his words were supposed to make you forgive him at once and shower him with kisses. It only strengthened your resolve. If he wouldn’t treat you as a wife, you wouldn’t give him the respect of a husband. 

“You have a son,” you said, stretching your legs out in the settee just as he made to take his seat there. His hand wrapped around your ankle and you kicked it off, daring him to make another attempt at moving your legs so he could sit. He smiled softly, conceding as he moved to stand by your head. 

“He is beautiful, mellilla,” he said, caressing your cheek. You slapped his hand away. All of Rome may fall at his feet and welcome him back with praises of his victory. He was deserving of course, not only for his achievements but for his undying loyalty to Rome. If Rome were a woman, she would be his principal wife and you— you would only be a tavern whore he fucked and left in the dead of night. 

“You block the moonlight, General Acacius.” 

“Marcus,” he said, moving to allow you sight of the moon once again. He sat in the little remaining space on the settee and looked down at you. Despite the toll war had taken on him, he was incredibly handsome. Bold nose, pink lips and graying curls that only made him look ever so slightly more distinguished. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You did not return the kiss, but you did not push him away. There was an limit even to your anger. You placed a hand on his shoulder, the act of denying yourself the joy of your lover weighing heavy in your heart.

“I’m afraid I haven’t such an honor.” You bit down on your lip, annoyed at yourself for the trembling of your voice as you spoke. Your anger for him had a foundation of pain after all. 

His face fell and he sighed. He looked down at his lap and you hoped it was from shame.

“If you have nothing to say, you may leave. If you need it, you may summon the servants for your meal. But I am sure the emperor did not send his best general hungering for food or cunt,” you spat, rising to sit up on the settee. Hand as strong as iron wrapped around your wrist, coupling with his strong torso that trapped you in place to keep you from getting up. You squirmed in his grasp, but he did not budge.

“Listen to me.” 

“Is that an order?” 

He wrapped an arm around you and held your cheek in his hand. You looked up at him, giving him biting fury to his firm yet gentle gaze. “If it is the only way I will have your obedience, then yes. It is an order.” 

“You may speak, but you cannot make me listen and you most certainly cannot make me respond.” 

“I am your husband.” 

“A husband doesn’t leave for a year long war at the dead of night with no explanation to the woman swelling with his child,” you screamed, fist slamming against his chest. It didn’t affect Marcus. Nothing affected the great General Acacius, you thought with derision. You hit him in the chest again, tears brimming in your eyes and clouding your vision.

“Forgive me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You ceased your attacks as his apology coupled with the pain in his eyes reduced you to tears. You’d kept everything in for so long, put on a brave face for your daughters and hid your heart in your letter to your father. It was only with Marcus that you didn’t need to hide. He always tore your fears down and pulled you into the safety of his arms.

“I wouldn’t have been able to leave had I said goodbye.” 

“I was so afraid,” you confessed, leaning into his chest. Every pretense of strength and composure left your body as you let him hold you to his chest. The gold earrings you wore to please his eyes pressed cold against your skin under his hand. He moved next to your hair and then you neck, the hand that held swords and spilled blood only to return home to love you. 

“Carissima…You were all I could think of after I left. Forgive me,” he begged, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to each finger. 

“Later. I have missed you. Marcus,” you whispered, craning your neck to kiss him. He returned your kiss in an instant, arms cradling you as you devoured each other. He smelled of war— blood, soil, sweat, and leather. It was far more pleasing to your senses than any fragrant oils and flowers. Your Marcus and his distinctly masculine scent was above all but the fragrance of your newborn. 

You whined as he retreated. He laughed and returned to scatter kisses along your jawline like Rome scattered rose petals along the steps of the Colosseum for his feet. He reached under your layers of silk and linen, making you tremble and press yourself closer to his chest. 

“So soft…” 

“I need you, please.” It was all he needed to hear before he walked up to the doors of the balcony and slammed them shut. What he did with you, for you, wasn’t for anyone else’s eyes but your own. 

He unlatched the gold clips that held your palla to your shoulders and set them aside. Your stola and tunic followed, piling up on the marble floor. Cold air caressed your bare breasts, bigger and fuller now as you nursed your son yourself. You traced your hand up his arm, feeling his vambrace before finding his muscular arms. You whimpered from just how big he was in your hands. You squeezed, feeling the hard muscle and rough skin. 

Your General knelt before you and you sat up straight, confused by his action. He couldn’t be… You sought his apologies and regret, but by no means would you ask him to humiliate himself for you. Such a man, superior to you in every way. 

“Dominus!” You shrieked, reminding him who he was even when he came home. 

“Shh…” 

“Are you going to—?”

“Lick you cunt? Yes. Sit back, now,” he said as he guided you to lean back on the settee. You shook your head from side to side, appalled by the circumstances and confused as to how you were supposed to stop him. He spread your legs wide, planting your feet upon the seat. He licked his plush lips and looked up at you, his eyes those of a ravenous beast. 

“You cannot. I only want you to understand the torture you put me through, not debase yourself in front of me. It’s not right.”  

A corner of his lips curled up slightly. He spat on his hand and rubbed it into your cunt. You arched into his palm, your cunt chasing any contact you could have with your beloved. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” 

“You.”

“Speak fully and speak my name.” 

“I belong to you, Marcus.” 

“Correct. Why do you think then, that you can tell me what I can and cannot do with you?” 

He parted your cunt lips and slid a finger inside you. “You belong to me. All of you. This cunt belongs to me. Does it not?” You nodded as he pumped his thick finger in and out of you. It had been so long since you’d been touched that even his finger felt a little much for you to take. You shuddered as you thought of his cock, promising the virility that came with such a size. 

“Speak,” he commanded, every bit the fearsome General who led men into battle. When even warriors couldn’t defy him, how could you? 

“It belongs to you, Marcus.” 

“Mmm,” he rumbled, curling his finger inside you, making you whimper. “If I want to lick this cunt then, do you have any right to stop me?” 

“N-no,” you cried, grabbing his wrist and imploring him to slow down for you couldn’t take such intoxicating pleasure. “If peo— Marcus! If someone knew—”

Then he dove into your core and licked the nub above your cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. He looked up at you from between your legs, tongue still licking you as he smirked. It was sinful, the sight and the act of a man serving a woman. You shook your head, your senses already addled from being so close to him after a long year. It was wrong. Wrong. But oh gods, he made all the wrongs feel right and who were you to deny him? 

Tears rolled down your cheeks, no longer from the agony of separation from your dearest but from the building pressure in your core. 

“Marcus…” you said, unable to say anything else. You reached your hand towards him, needing to be anchored to the Earth as he flew you to the heavens. He enveloped your hand in his and gave a small squeeze. His other hand and his lips were unrelenting, giving him new ways to torment you. 

How did anyone deem it submissive for a man to kneel and lick cunt? Your Marcus still looked as majestic as ever. The picture of victory that Rome worshiped. The Marcus Acacius who slew and killed was home and ruthless in his conquest of you. Even as he licked your core, he was the one with all the power in hand. This was but a new way for him to take you. 

You gasped inaudibly as he inserted another finger in your cunt, stretching you in preparation for his cock. You felt your unraveling come closer. He pulled you deeper into whatever spell he had you under whenever he touched your cunt. You squeezed his hand tighter, saying everything your lips couldn’t. Hold me, keep me safe, never let me go.

The waves crashed against the rocks on the shores of the beach as you came crashing down from the heavens. Marcus kept his wordless promise. You tightened your legs around his head yet he held you in place and kept you safe. 

When you came to, you found your fingers tangled in between his dark curls. You loosened your grip on him but did not let go, needing to feel him even if it was just his hair. 

“I should not have liked that.” 

He laughed and gave your cunt another lick, smirking as he watched you shudder. 

“But you did,” he said, getting up at last. “I knew you tasted divine, but having you directly from your cunt is something else, melilla.” 

“I have not washed in days because of you. I am sure I taste horrendous.” 

“Good girl, following orders well. But you are wrong. You taste and smell like a woman. Not a perfumed woman. This,” he said in a low voice as the tip of his nose traced up your neck. He inhaled your scent and moaned. “This is nothing you can find in a vial. This is your true scent,” he said, stopping at your ear and placing a kiss. 

“I would recognize it anywhere.” He reached under his pteruges and toga and retrieved his cock. Your cunt clenched at the mere sight of him. 

He was far too covered. As much as you loved to see your General in his armor, you loved more to see him bare. You needed to run your fingers over his bare chest and dig your fingernails into his shoulders as he wrung his pleasure out of you.  You found the ties that held his armor in place and began to undo them. 

“Impatient girl,” he chided as he aligned himself with your cunt. 

“Help me out then,” you snapped back as you struggled with the knots. He ignored your request and continued on his path of destroying you, plunging his length inside you much too quickly. You cried from the pain and pleasure of being stretched out by him once again. 

“Marcus!” 

He bent forward and whispered your name against your lips before claiming them. You moaned into the kiss as you rubbed yourself against him for friction. You were loath to pull away from his cock even the slightest as you ached for him too much to part from him. You wrapped your legs around him and pressed your heels down on his back, pulling him deeper inside you. 

He wrapped a hand around your throat, tightening and loosening every now and then. “Day and night, I longed for you,” he whispered, his breath mixing with yours. “Dreamt of the day I would be inside you again.” 

You echoed the sentiment, but he quickly silenced you with a hard thrust that you felt in the deepest part of your core. He wasn’t the gentle Marcus who treated you like you did your fine silks but the General who conquered every land he set foot on. He rammed in and out of you, reclaiming you as his. Your cunt opened up to take its master, molded itself around him like it did each time since your wedding night. He had taken you, his young bride, and shown you a world only he could. He’d taken and taken, made you a woman by showing you what your body could do for you. 

He licked up your neck, growling like he was tasting the finest delicacies from the emperors’ table after being starved for months. “You smell sweet, Carisimma.” 

“You lived in tents with men for a year. I’m sure a pig would smell sweet to you now,” you said, making him laugh even as he wrecked you. He reached down to your breasts and grabbed one in his hand. He pinched your nipple between his fingers and tugged, making you cry out in pain. 

“Marcus!” Drops of milk trickled from your breasts and he swiped it with him thumb before licking it. 

“I only regret that I could not see you grow bigger with my seed.” 

“You ha- you have seen it before.” 

“Yet I am not satisfied. I need more, I need to fill you up with my seed, keep you full with my children in perpetuity.” 

“Marcus! Please…” 

“What do you beg for, girl?” 

“Give me sons, Marcus. Let me give you heirs,” you cried, overcome by the need to become his in that primal way. It was more than just your duty as his wife. It was an innate desire. As frightening as pregnancy was, you wanted it again and again at the hands of your husband. To give him sons carry his name and daughters who would control the great General with their laughter. 

“Give me sons,” he repeated, the hand around your neck squeezing tight. This time, he did not relax, holding your air hostage as he used your cunt for his carnal desires. You gasped for breath. Your cunt squeezed around him, keeping him in so he would give you his seed and refusing to let go even for a moment. 

Every thrust after sent delicious ripples of pain. You knew that you would wake the next morning unable to walk as usual. You would hear your servant girls giggle when they thought you couldn’t hear. He would wreck you day and night, make you scream for all the house to hear. He would take you to high places in the city, an arrogant smile on his lips as he showed you off, rounded again with his child. 

As though he could read your thoughts, he spilled inside you with a cry of your name. You held him close, afraid he would part from your body and rob you of his warmth. 

He showered you with kisses, beginning as a downpour and ending with a drizzle. You melted into his arms, the tension in your muscles leaving now that you had your Marcus home. You were no longer alone, he was here and he would take care of everything. 

“Am I forgiven now?” 

You smiled, burrowing into his chest as draped your discarded silk over you and picked you up in his arms. “I will consider it if you make sure I don’t bleed this cycle.” 

You felt his chest rumble as he laughed. A kiss on the top of your head.

“As you say, melilla.”

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[ozzgin]

Yandere!Shapeshifter x Reader

Featuring a clueless Reader and the grotesque "dog" she found in a cursed forest, yet this time they're joined by a strange man. Where did he come from, and why does the dog run away whenever he comes by? Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, mildly NSFW [Part 1] | [More Monsters]

You couldn't help but stare a little at the stranger who so persistently knocked on your door. His eyes had a peculiar color - one similar to the little dog who followed you home from your hiking trip. You bit your tongue from saying such nonsense, worrying it might be taken as an insult. He extended his long, bony fingers and lowered a wallet in your open palms. "You must've dropped this somewhere", he remarked with feigned worry. "I used the address on your ID card."

Whatever initial suspicion weighed on your shoulders had instantly dispersed into thin air. You thanked the man profusely, and invited him in for a drink. "Careful with my dog, he's-" you begun warning, but the quadruped creature was nowhere to be seen. Mysterious. You led the benevolent soul into your living room with a smile.

One thing led to another, and the polite meetings for coffee turned into steamy nights in the retreat of your bedroom. Around the same time you stopped having your bizarre wet dreams involving some deformed monstrosity ramming into you. Perhaps a loving partner was all you needed. To your great shock - and delight - the stranger never abandoned you the morning after, unlike all the previous flirts. This is the one, you told yourself. For once, you had company. You had consistency.

Unfortunately, your friends don't agree with you. Your dreamy retellings are met with grimaces and horrified shivers. "He has such an unique appearance", you'll argue. "It's uncanny valley", your friends will counter, embracing themselves in a fearful, shielding manner. They claim he must be yet another curse brought by the damned devil of a hound you keep as a pet.

Every discussion regarding your beloved will turn into a back and forth. "The voice is inhuman. A broken record, as if he's copying the rest of us, with jarring interruptions and words randomly patched together!" You wave your hand in dismissal. "He's just a little shy", you say with a faint blush. You've always had a soft spot for introverts. "He's insane! Last time someone complimented your outfit, he begun chanting at the dinner table!" You puff out a chuckle. "He must be religious, or something", you defend him ardently. No one dares to mention the flickering lights, or the fact that the targeted friend never left the confines of their room after that encounter.

You will admit one thing: your dog seems to avoid this man like the plague. You've never seen the two of them together in a room. Could your friends be right? They do say dogs can sniff out bad people. You shake your head. It can't be. You get out of bed, rub your eyes, and check the time: 2am. The space next to you is empty, sheets ruffled aside. Out of curiosity, you head outside the room and follow the faint light in the kitchen. The stranger stands before the fridge, face smudged red and fingers stained and glossy. He's holding what seems to be a half-chewed heart, probably taken out of the raw organs bag you keep for your dog. "Heh. I see you like late snacking, too", you joke, dragging out a chair. "Pass me the cheese, will ya? But...maybe wash your hands first."

This isn't right. Sure, he's fucking you better than anyone else ever did, and you find his mysterious aura endearing. Yet you can't help the guilt eating at your innards, knowing that your dog cannot coexist with this man. Something has to be done, so you call out your partner and pat the sofa you're sitting on. "We must talk", you tell him. "What might be troubling you", he inquires quietly, frozen in the doorframe. "I'm afraid my pet comes before anything else", you confess. "And he seems to be scared of you...I'm not sure our current situation is sustainable." Ah. That's what it was. The man lets out a whistled laugh, as if remembering something.

His bones begin to break in wet, fluid succession, as coarse fur takes over his skin. He lowers himself to his fours, snout wide open in a sharp, toothy grin. "You mean this dog, yes?"

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.