#day 5: show me your dark side | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

st4rbe0m · 1 month

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PAIRING ▸ Nishimura Riki x fem!reader

SUMMARY ▸"Am I dating Y/N L/N? No thanks, I'd rather choke." Or in which you're clearly using some sort of spell to entice Riki, because why on earth would he suddenly start feeling this way about you?

GENRE ▸one-sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, she fell first but he fell harder, angst (lots of it), slow-ish burn.

WARNINGS ▸ swearing, featuring Eunchae from LeSserafim as your best friend and some additional cameos by other idols, some of dickish behaviour from Riki at the start :(, kissing, mentions of curses, occults knowledge, spells and witchcraft.

WC ▸ 7.1K

A/N ▸ Thank you for the immense support for this on the teaser!! I hope this lives up to your expectations, and I hope you guys enjoy the rest of my work as well :)

PLAYLIST ▸ Voodoo Doll by 5 Seconds of Summer, Kiss Me Kiss Me by 5 Seconds of Summer, Brought the Heat Back by Enhypen, Stockholm Syndrome by One Direction

masterlist

The air is a sweet smelling summer type, the day you first meet Nishimura Riki. He's a scrawny little thing of twig arms and downcast, shy eyes. Having moved to Korea from Japan only barely a month back, the number of words he can say in this newfound land in the foreign language can be counted on one hand. And this poses a problem to him right now, considering how his older sister had already gone off on her own despite their mother's strict orders to stay together at all times. You spot the boy, a sprightly little thing yourself, and the first thing you notice is his eyes. The most gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes. They looked like the black beetles you saw in the spring - lazing on the dark brown tree trunks, absolutely fascinating and captivating.

Nishimura Riki is six years old and scared. He's at a playground with kids his age, but he feels like an alien in his own skin. They're all either playing in groups or duos - but no dice for singles. It's times like this that makes him want to clutch on to the fabric of his mother's dress and be whisked away to safety. A place where he doesn't feel so out of place. His soft, trembling body stills in a bit of surprise as a gentle tap knocks on his shoulder, ever so slightly. Turning around fearful of being picked on, he only comes face to face with a girl. You're looking straight at him with owlish, unblinking eyes that make Riki shiver in your gaze - feeling smaller and smaller than before. He doesn't like how you're looking at him, not in the slightest. "Hi there! I'm Y/N L/N. Are you new here?" You're quite articulate for a kid, he thinks, as if he's not one himself. He's barely managed to string together the meaning of what you said through his broken understanding of the language, but it's the general environment about you that makes him hesitate. His lack of a response doesn't deter you apparently, as suddenly you're latching on to his wrist, trying to pull him to the sand pit, babbling on and on about being his new friend and offering to show him around town. He doesn't know how to get out of your vice-like grip, but he doesn't mind your company either. But it's just all too much. There's too many things going on around him, and you're too loud.

Suddenly, he's wrenching his hand out of yours, a scowl on his youthful features. It's a frown directed right at you like a bullet, but it leaves you unscathed. You still look at him with a complete look of innocence, completely boring into his own eyes. There's something about the way you look at him, and he hates it. He notices the way you hold no precise expression on your face, only a peaceful and serene look coupled with the way one would gaze when they felt curious and fascinated. He decides at that moment, with all the iron resolve of a six year old boy, that he hated this girl. He hated you and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you.

But this was in no way similar to the way you were feeling currently. With the way that inky void in his eyes were pulling you in like a siren song, you decided that you loved Nishimura Riki.

11 years later

"Riki! Riki!". Your chants are loud even amongst the bustling crowd of attendees, all mingling about on the bleachers, eyes trained on the orange basketball as the squeaking sound of shoes against the polished wooden floor accentuated the tension of this cut-throat game. Jersey number 9, tallest on the team and jet black hair that had everyone reeling in his subtle aura, Riki's eyes are piercing as his focus solely stays on two things - the first being how to get past the rival team's defense, and the second being how annoying your cheering was to him.

Their opposing team is not letting them cut through this bottle neck tie easily, and the red timer with its robotic, digital numbers clocking down to the game's end was not really helping either. It was right now, or never. And Riki never let a game get to the tie-breaker, ever. He's quick and sharp witted, and he's got the athletic skill to get past the crowding defense team, and with a crisp swish of the white net hanging on the post, the ball is swiftly sent through the basket. The whistle is loud, but the rest of his teammates are louder, wasting no time in running on the court to aggressively smother their prodigal player in affection and sweat, with Riki glaring away at them in faux irritation, but clearly preening in their pride. This was an important game after all, because it would be the game that would help team captain, Lee Heesung, who was graduating this spring, to choose the next in line to his legacy. And anyone with two eyes, who wasn't even on the team could easily say it belonged to Riki.

Your voice is back, louder again this time, and it has Riki grimacing amongst the celebrations, and Sunoo and Taki, his friends who had descended from the stands themselves, gave each other a knowing look of what was about to occur.

You're singing praises and it has him glowing, regardless of the frown marrying his sharp features. "God, that was so cool! You're so, so tall, it must have been an advantage for sure, but wow I mean that basket? Crazy!"

He's still glaring at you and his teammates have wry smiles on their faces. Your praises quieten down when you, and Riki, notice Lee Heesung walking over to Riki with a championing grin that only means one thing. Ushering Riki away, you just gazed at him at raw adoration as the boy's face lit up with the news Heesung was breaking him.

"By the way dude, are you dating that girl there? Y/N L/N?"

The question has him coughing slightly from the water he was chugging down. Sunoo and Taki are cackling violently at his expression, like Heesung had performed the most blasphemous act in front of him. "Heesung, what the hell dude. I'm not dating her, at all. I'll only date Y/N when pigs start flying."

He looks back to where you stood before, now gone from that spot. You always waited a bit before you left, usually, trying to catch him and make conversation with him, so this was new. A different kind of feeling he wasn't sure he was used to. It was strange, how he felt a bit different from the absence of you.

"Look, oh my god!" Taki cries out, pointing vaguely at the air. "What?" "I just saw a pig fly." “Shut the fuck up man.”

You were a curse sent from hell to torment him, that much was sure. He wasn’t sure what penance he was due to pay in this life for his previous actions that caused you to appear in his life, considering how since that moment on the playground, you’ve done nothing to actually make his life any better. And while he was explaining this very situation to Heesung, who was now sporting an amused grin at the way the normally nonchalant Riki’s mouth seemed to fly a mile a minute, Sunoo interrupted with a gasp at a particularly harsh tease. “She isn’t even doing anything bad you prick! I’d kill to have someone crush on me that long!”

“Oh you can have her then, Sun. I do not want to see her in my life ever again once we’re out of here.” He huffs.

The various examples of the ways you’d managed to make things bad for him seemed to resurface to his mind almost immediately, souring his mood. Like when in middle school, when he bagged the hottest girl of their grade, Choi Ri-ah, to go out with him. It was magical to Riki, that eighth grade relationship - mainly because him being in it meant having you off his back. Your displeasure with his newfound relationship status was not a secret either, no your distaste was very clear, with the way you’d frown when they would walk in the hallways together holding hands, which in eighth grade, was a very big deal. It didn’t help that Ri-ah was also your quote unquote, sworn enemy. The two of you had hated each other's guts since almost preschool, and the sickening punch in the stomach was how she’d managed to be with the only guy you’d ever loved. But Riki didn’t know any of that. And frankly, he didn’t care much about his and Ri-ah’s conversations or dates, where he would nod along as she talked his ears off about getting new earrings or the summer holiday her father was planning, where she was going to get the most outrageous tan. Sure, he liked her. But he liked not hearing your voice constantly bugging him more.

“Dude she didn’t end your relationship with Ri-ah! Ri-ah was already going after another guy from that prep school, she just needed an excuse to end the relationship and made Y/N the scapegoat.” Taki told him exasperatedly, which just fell on deaf ears, because Riki was still convinced that you were the reason for the demise of his juvenile dating plan. Ri-ah had broken up with him seemingly out of the blue, over text, claiming that she felt uncomfortable dating a boy who was so coveted by another girl. And when fourteen year old Riki read that heartbreaking message curled up in his duvet at 10PM on a Tuesday, he just felt a bitter pill of hatred for you. Nothing had changed in the six years since that fateful meeting at the playground, no. You still made Riki shudder.

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

“He’s absolutely phenomenal.” You breathe out in a sigh, full of awe as you watch Riki skirt across the court with lightning speed. The dreamy looks and the lovestruck sounds was like routine to Eunchae, who had honestly even given up on rolling her eyes at you, because with the way she’d spent the last 10 years doing the same, she was afraid her eyes would get stuck at the back of the skull due to routine. It was truly a wonder how you hadn’t given up immediately after the first few tries - when he was extremely stubborn in denouncing the “Y/N’s boyfriend” title he’d earned. But you had your justification ready to go - that he never outright rejected you. Sure, he politely declined some invitations, but never a word against your feelings as such. It still raised the question, as to how you could chase a guy around this long. Because to you, the reason was quite fundamental - his eyes were still beautiful, and most importantly, they held no hate. Not an ounce of it, no matter how hard he tried to emulate it, which gave you hope.

Unfortunately hope was a wonderful thing for sure, but also dangerous. It was quite the cycle you’d found yourself stuck in, and you weren’t honestly sure how long you could afford to linger as nothing but a mandatory footnote to him. It was eating away at you. But hope, hope made you hold on.

Only Eunchae knew about the firm decision you’d taken last night. After all, she was your closest friend. And she even held you, as you solemnly promised to yourself, on the eve of the 11th anniversary of the day you first met Riki, to leave him behind forever, if there wasn’t any improvement in his behavior, or general perception of you. It was shocking, and honestly a huge decision. But firm in its promise, that last hook of hope would be gone soon by tomorrow.

“You know he ignored you again, right?” Eunchae points out for the nth time, and like always that doesn’t deter you, as you gaze lovingly upon where the soon-to-be former captain Heesung was talking to Riki about leading the team, a position quite coveted which you were very proud of Riki for acquiring. The pride that swelled in your heart was immense, but the cold words you heard Riki utter were like a small pin-prick on your heart. He was tense from the game, and let’s be honest, you’d always managed to survive the weight of his brash words. But why did this one hurt so much? Were you reaching your breaking point, finally? No wonder you’d tipped and already decided to get over him last night.

Snapping yourself out of these negative emotions, you decided to busy yourself a bit away from the bleachers and Heesung and Riki, focusing on Eunchae as she tried to decide where to grab a snack before you both went off to your own houses.

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

The sound of his voice has always been melodious to you. It had a deep timbre and was almost soothing. But right now, you felt anything far from soothed. Your throat was closing up into a lump, and you huffed slightly as you blinked away tears. Eunchae’s eyes were blown wide in shock, and were slowly beginning to narrow in anger. Your movements were almost automatic as your hand reached out to stop Eunchae from storming out from your hiding spots’, the fuming girl looking like she was ready to punch Nishimura across the face immediately. The tears were burning into your lower lash line like furious embarrassment, making you more and more smaller, wishing now more than ever that the ground swallowed you whole. You kept telling yourself over and over again, that this wasn’t the first time you’d heard words of this type uttered against you by him. But it was like a disenchanting spell on you, the way a veil lifted off your eyes. A crack in the rose tinted looking-glass you always stared at him through.

“Y/N”, Eunchae’s voice is a careful whisper, sensing your vulnerability as your best friend. She knew you long enough to tell that those extremely cruel, mean words did more than just a regular rebound on your thick skin. She was cooling down in an attempt to comfort you, rubbing your arm in support. Your lower lip was wobbling, and you felt like someone had slapped you hard across the cheek. You weren’t that annoying to put up with, were you?

Your heart felt stomped on at that point, and you wanted nothing more than to get away. As shocking as it was, you couldn’t stomach being around Riki right now, and hastily grabbing Eunchae and making a beeline towards the exit, your downtrodden expression morphed to anger as your shoulder harshly bumped against Riki’s, who’s expression you couldn’t tell with the way you could only see red. Your decision was ironclad now, if it wasn’t firm already. This was the moment you’d decided to get over Nishimura Riki.

The touch of your shoulder against his was like a static current being passed through his skin, in the most pleasant way possible. Like he craved it. Riki was baffled, and even more so when he realized it was you, and your usually ever-present adoration from him being blatantly missing, even in this short interaction, if it even be called that. He felt a twinge of concern for you, which he suppressed easily. This was the Y/N he was talking about. Any emotion for you rather than disgust? No thank you!

However, it was strange. For the first time in your life, you felt almost nothing for Nishimura Riki. And for the first time in his life, he felt something for you.

It’s been a week since the fateful basketball game. You’ve been through the stages of grief quite quickly, storming through each of them with Eunchae helping you along, although your headstrong need to get better did worry her, that you weren’t actually processing your pain to heal. But to hell with all that. No, you wanted to eviscerate any remaining thought of Riki from your head immediately. The school day seems to be quite regular, with spring break just a mere two weeks away, that had people buzzing with low energy in the hallways, all in the state of deciding their spring break plans. Your spring break plans weren’t anything fancy, or anything at all rather - with the main idea being that you’d while away the time with your best friend, doing all the fun activities you could possibly do. And a break that you were sure would be the final nail in the coffin that contained the corpse of your feelings for Riki, the dark haired boy who up till now kept an iron grip on your heart.

The boy in question, like you, had also spent the previous week raging through some emotions. But in his case, rather he found them very confusing and very out of character. Of course, he wasn’t self actualised enough to work through them, and that led him to create a stubborn mindspace - that you, Y/N L/N were messing with his head by purposely ignoring him. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your presence and the recent lack of. Your voice wasn’t greeting him in the homeroom every morning anymore, and it was a change many had noticed, but not yet commented on. He found this pit in his stomach from the first week, the immediate day after the match, when he saw you sitting in class - head bent, hair falling over your face messily. And for a fleeting second, his hand had to fight off the urge to get up and brush them away. Your eyes looked slightly swollen, with a faint bloodshot look, like you’d spent the night crying rather than sleeping. It made his chest ache and his head spin slightly. What the hell? When the hell did he feel sorry for Y/N L/N? When the hell did he feel anything for Y/N L/N?

That was about three days ago, and that same pit in his stomach has been growing ever since. He, for whatever reason, missed you. Instead of coming face to face with this fact, he turned his back on it, and it was killing him. Pinpricks of pain would shoot through him whenever he noticed you deliberately changing your path on noticing him walk towards your way. God, it’s like he was a hostage to your feelings all these years, and automatically he felt guilty of thinking about you that way. You just liked him right? Why was he even so rude to you?

His behavior, and his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by all of his friends, even the basketball team, who were more than aware of your absence at practice anymore. Whatever you were doing to remove Riki from your life might be working in your favor, but it was ruining him.

His brain felt like someone was swirling its contents around with a spatula, making a mess of his thoughts and his emotions. He hadn’t wasted a moment in spilling his dilemma to Sunoo, and invariably the guys he was closest to on the basketball team - Jake, Sunghoon, Jay and Heesung. The team itself were all in all pretty much aware of how the youngest was going through quite the mind-boggling series of epiphanies (if it could even be called that. Jay liked to refer to it as just a dumbass waking up from his stupidity sleep).

“Dude, I just don’t know anymore. Her not being there is very odd to me? I just can’t get used to it.” Riki sighs, shaking his head as he thumbs around his packet of Cheetos, slumping against the cafeteria wall, while the rest of his group gathered around him like a pack, eagerly listening in. “But isn’t that what you wanted? So there must be something else then? Maybe you didn’t mind her as much as you let on?” Jake inquired, his head tilting like a confused puppy. That had Riki scratching his head again. He saw you this morning by your locker. You were catching up with Eunchae, both of you laughing boldly to whatever Eunchae had just said, and there was a glow on your face as your eyes crinkled in amusement, which made a heartbeat skip in his chest. He was staring longingly at you, and it seemed like you noticed, because your eyes met his in scrutiny - your single glance making him feel like that six year old at the playground again.

When you were in freshman year, you had developed a fascination with reading horror novels and mangas and watching horror movies very frequently. Something about spirits and the occult had interested you very much, and many people around you knew about this hobby of yours. If anyone had any doubts about the intricacies of rituals and possessions, spells and witchcraft, they’d just go to you. Right now, Riki thinks that’s exactly what’s happening to him - you’d used your occult knowledge to put a spell on him. Of course, he knew how ridiculous he sounded. But he felt like he was bound to you, and couldn’t shake off your spell no matter how much he tried. And it was purely on him. This was just all so,so confusing, which he decided not to voice out to his friends until he himself had gotten a grip on what was happening to him. How he kept thinking about your little habits. Day before yesterday, he found himself soaked in sweat and thirsty beyond comparison after practice. Parched and defeated, he stumbled along to the locker room to find his flavored water that one of his teammates usually kept in his locker for him, only to come up empty handed.

“Jake, have you seen my flavored water? I figured you usually put one in my locker.” He asked nonchalantly, only to find Jake, and the rest of the team that entered the room in a state of sly smiles, stifled giggles and shock.

“Dude, we never did any of that. Y/N did that, she’d purchase the fancy water for you and put it in your locker before we came for practice.”

It made him feel different. He was blinking slow, and his brain was sluggish. You did that for him? God, you were so sweet, weren’t you. He already felt a bit sad about not seeing your bright grin that you directed to him in the morning (even though he always dismissed it with ignorance), but this was the cherry on top. You had loved him to death, and now he was a dead man walking without you.

“He looked at you, you know.” Eunchae is careful in her observation, but she knows you noticed too. Your pupils seem narrowed, and your lips are drawn in a tight line as you contemplate that look he gave you. You still couldn’t fight off the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you met his eyes - those gorgeous, beetle-black eyes that had a magnetic pull to them. But within the haze of your flusteredness, you’d managed to catch the slight look of misery in them. He was looking at you like he was an injured puppy, lost without you. But your resolve was stronger. With the utmost focus, you managed to drive away the maddening thoughts of the possibility of him missing you away, and walked away with Eunchae.

Over the weekend, Riki had realized that being away from you was driving him insane. So on Monday, he was pulling his chair close to yours in the classroom, the metallic screech against the wooden flooring making everyone turn their heads to the scene, their eyes widening in shock at what was unfolding in front of their eyes. How on Earth was Nishimura Riki sitting next to Y/N L/N? Your thoughts were also very similar to the rest of your classmates, because what was happening right now? Riki, the boy you’d put your heart dangerously on the line for was right here, sitting next to you. His movements were awkward and he was fiddling with his fingers while casting shy glances towards you, reminding you of the scared six year old version of him you’d met at the playground. There is a faint red crawling up his pale ears, and he clears his throat roughly, before saying “Is it alright if I sit here?”

Your all consuming feelings seemed to come back like a crashing wave on the shore the moment he uttered those words to you, and you just nodded wordlessly, too shocked to say anything.

You look too pretty this morning, and it’s messing with his head. Riki’s beating himself up internally, because this wouldn’t be so difficult if you weren’t so goddamn beautiful for some reason. He nods when you do, and then gets to his work. His proximity feels dizzying to you, and the scent of his cologne makes it harder for you to focus on the work in front of you. He’s biting into his lip hard, to suppress the urge to just hold your hand. The smell of your shampoo, the warmth of your thigh being barely centimeters next to you. You’re both so horribly blind and it is just painful to you both, unbeknownst to each of you.

Nishimura Riki liked you. He really, really liked you. And as he turned his head to see your face, accented by the golden sunlight and eyes sparkling like dewdrops in the early morning, he knew that even if he wanted to run, he couldn't. He was trapped under your spell, and the thought of it made him smile.

The following days are filled with such odd interactions with Riki. He always found an excuse to find you first in classrooms, or walk you to the cafeteria. You suddenly found yourself back at basketball practices again, but this time forcefully dragged to the court by Riki, and an amused Eunchae in tow. He was there to offer you snacks and drinks from the vending machine. He helped you with homework and you helped him with his. Whatever diabolical game he was playing was working wonders on you, because suddenly all you could see behind your closed eyes was his gorgeous face.

The rest of the student body isn’t blind to his newfound affection for you. It’s all they’ve been talking about the entire time. His teammates slap his back in teasing jests while he shoos them all away, all the while that smile never leaving his face.

“There’s no way!” You’re laughing hard, and yours and Riki’s shared giggles are quite audible over the soccer field. You’re both sitting on the grass just after practice, where Riki’s cooling off in the gentle breeze blowing across the grass. He’s telling you about some antics he had put up in class to get away from not turning in assignments, which involved a fake rubber rat and a very scared Calculus teacher. You’re wiping tears from your eyes from the laughter while Riki shakes his head in amusement. The breeze blows a single leaf to land right on top of your head, and it makes you giggle harder.

He shuffles a bit closer to you, arm raising up to remove the leaf from your head. His breath is warm as it fans across your warming cheeks, the narrowed distance between you both not being lost on either of you. His eyes meet yours, and you’re still a goner for them. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in nervousness, yet he makes no attempt to move away. Instead, he feels a bold surge in him. His finger loops around the bow on your school uniform, tugging the ribbon and invariably, you, forward towards him, making the breath in your throat hitch, and your eyes becoming wide as saucers. His eyes dip to your cupid’s bow, and scan over your lips and how they’re parted. Riki spends not a second more pressing his lips to yours, and you’re in heaven.

The walk back to your house is full of shy touches, and the warmth of your hand in his. Riki’s lips are still tingling where yours were just moments ago. He can’t even begin to fathom how he ended up here - from loathing you to wanting to kiss you again. He was addicted to you and wanted more of you. But these things needed to be paced, and Riki wanted it done right. Bidding you goodbye in front of your house, where you left him with another giggle-pressed kiss to his cheek and a warm buzz filling his body, he was absolutely enamored by Y/N L/N.

The next day, he wakes up and it’s a good day. It’s a good day because he’s going to ask you out finally. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, just because of the implausibility of the situation. There was a brightness surrounding the boy all throughout, a contrast to his regular attitude. Sunoo and Taki had been updated already, and he was planning to tell the team, the rest of his friends during practice, after which he would ask you on a date during your regular after-practice hangouts. Except for the life of him he couldn’t find you, at all. It was unfortunate that today was the day of the announcement of the student council election results, for which classes were mostly halted, since the student council was quite a big deal

He’s scanning around to find you amongst the crowd of the assembly where the results were to be announced - only to spot you a bit later. Also, he notices that you’re not alone. You’re grinning (a bit too much for his liking, if he's being honest) at Yang Jungwon, the boy who was the sure-shot winner of the President position. You’re too close to him, and it makes his heart clench. He’s biting his tongue until it almost bleeds. He doesn’t get an opportunity to speak to you, as the event commences. He just decides to wait till later, ignoring the pain in his chest he got from seeing you with another guy.

“The President of this year’s student council is Yang Jungwon.” There’s a smattering of loud applause, and even Riki joins in half-heartedly, still wounded over what he was previously. “The position of Vice President goes to his running mate, Y/N L/N!”.

He’s still in his place, though his heart bursts with pride and joy for you, his eyes drinking in your excited run up to the stage, shaking hands with the Principal of the school. Your face is broken into the biggest smile ever, and your eyes are shining from pure happiness. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t he know you were going for it? Or that Jungwon was your running mate?”

But all in all he’s very, very happy and proud of you, so he squishes down that ugly feeling of jealousy in him, and focuses on how you somehow look directly right at him. Your smile drops a little when you notice he isn’t clapping, a fact Riki himself didn’t realize, too busy staring in awe at you. It takes Eunchae’s loud hollering in the crowd to break you out of your stupor and your return to your regular state.

He’s changing out of his practice clothes, feeling a bit down from the events that actually happened today and how he’d expected it to go. He hadn’t been able to catch a moment alone with you after the ceremony, and four of the older members of the team were missing from practice today too, since Jay was the treasurer of the previous session, he had to oversee the handing over of the duties to the newer batch. Practice, because of that, ended up being him, and the benchwarmers and people he didn’t really know all that well. It was something he had to get used to as the new captain, so he figured this would serve as a good preview. He was talking to another benchwarmer of his grade, Junhee, while changing. Junhee wasn’t necessarily a good person, if Riki was honest. He always hung out with the rash crowd and got into fights because of his crass nature. He placed the small box of chocolates he’s managed to quickly buy for you from a store outside school, a sticky note with your name and a congratulation scrawled on it, down on the metallic bench as he gathered up the rest of his things. This doesn’t escape Junhee’s notice, who smirks lazily as he spots the name on the post-it.

“No way, Nishimura. She did it, huh?”

Riki already doesn’t like the way he refers to you as just someone, and it sets his skin aflame. “Hmm?” he responds half-heartedly, not at all interested in maintaining a conversation with Junhee of all people. “Well, doesn’t it make sense, Nishimura? She’s into that horror shit right? Clearly she’s made a voodoo doll of you and forced you to love her. Manifestation shit, am I right?”

Riki’s blood is boiling as he hears what Junhee is saying, but for some reason he says nothing back. It’s like he’s trapped in this vortex in his mind fueled by the insecurity he felt from seeing you with Jungwon, or how he felt out of the loop about your co-curricular adventure. Staying mum, he just grabbed the chocolate box, and turned around, only to gasp in shock to see you standing right there. Your mouth is twisted downwards in disappointment, and you’re staring at him with absolute loathing in your eyes right now. He rushed forward towards you, ready to explain, and also wanting desperately to punch the snickering Junhee behind him, who was now slinking away from the scene.

It feels like there is a knife in your back and twisting itself in your flesh all over again. There is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating you overwhelmingly. It’s jarring and mind-boggling. So before Riki gets to you, you run.

Eunchae is gathering you up in her arms as your inconsolable state renders you helpless, slumping on the floor of your bedroom, finding it harder to breathe as the sadness keeps washing over you in painful crashes, making you feel weaker and weaker as the time goes.

“Why does he hate me, Eun? He kissed me, didn’t he? So why is he so cruel?”

The six boys in Riki’s room are trying their best with damage control, as they all had rushed over to his house when Riki had texted them in a panic and explained what had gone down. “But why didn’t you defend yourself in front of Junhee in the first place man?”, Taki asks frustratedly, tugging at his hair. Riki frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face while his chest aches. “I kept thinking about her and Jungwon. I treated her terribly before all this, didn’t I? I just kept thinking how she might like Jungwon now.” His eyes are downcast in sadness, and his voice is broken. Pulling up a chair right in front of Riki, Heesung plops down and holds Riki up by the shoulders, squaring him up. “Riki. Go. Go right now and apologize, before you lose her even more.” Riki is crying harder now, and wiping his tears, he breaks and finally tells them. “I don’t think I want to be without her, Heesung. I want her love, no matter if it drives me to my end.”

Riki sees how Eunchae slipped out of your house to walk towards the supermarket, no doubt to get you both some consolation food. He takes this moment to approach your front door, knocking furiously in nervousness and apprehension. It’s now or never.

You open the door, assuming it’s Eunchae who left something behind before she left, so seeing Riki - messy hair, lips bitten to the extreme and bloodshot eyes standing on your front porch knocked the wind out of your lungs. Ready to slam the door on his face, his long hand stops you from doing so, pleading “Y/N please, please just listen to me. It wasn’t how it happened. I didn’t agree with Junhee at all. I like you, Y/N L/N, like it’s breathing. Being away from you makes me lose my mind, and I know I haven’t been the best to you in the past. But please, Y/N. I need you to give me a chance. I need you.”

There’s warm tears flowing down your face, and even in this state Riki thinks you’re beautiful. The porch light shines on your face and you look angelic. He hopes it showed in your mercy as well.

“Why didn’t you disagree?” you sniffle, sweater paws raising up to wipe away some of the tears on your face. The dejected tone with which you ask him makes him feel a deep tug in his heart, aching and sad. “I felt. Jealous. And angry, that Jungwon was so close to you, and that you hadn’t told me about being his running mate. And I know that doesn’t excuse my actions. I just felt, I don’t know. Out of the loop.”

“I wanted to surprise you with the vice president's news.” You mumbled, head down. Riki hesitantly moved toward you, and slowly patting your head, he said “I was surprised, baby, and so, so proud of you. I felt so proud of my girl up there.” He says hoarsely, hoping that his sincerity is as evident as much as he feels it.

The breath gets knocked out as he groans through his mouth with the impact of your crushing hug. You have your face burrow into his chest, crying softly but also laughing slightly, wetting his shirt. He doesn’t spare a moment to wrap his arms around you tightly, fearing that letting go would mean that he’d lose you again. He sniffs in the soothing and familiar scent of your shampoo and mumbles into your hair, “I don’t know what spell you’ve casted on me, Y/N L/N. But I want to be under it forever.”

The sunlight, Riki thinks, just manages to make you so beautiful that it makes Riki speechless every single time. A lot has changed since the playground and the years after that. And a lot more changed within the last year too. You and Riki are midway through your senior year now. He was sad when he had to bid farewell to the older members of the basketball team, who were practically like brothers to him now. You continued your duties as vice president, though the shared activities you had with Jungwon, still a sore spot for Riki, made him pout adorably, which you always kissed away with a laugh. Riki was the basketball captain now, which added new responsibilities to his shoulder, which he carried excellently. The evidence of which was the recent basketball game that he’d just won with the team. The pep rally, and most of the team was still loitering around the court (Junhee was out. It was one of the first things Riki did as captain, in fact). Riki had sneaked you out to that fateful soccer field where you both had first kissed, and a beautiful sense of deja vu hit him as he looked at you in wonder - how you’d managed to put up with all of him was still a mystery to the boy. But, when you looked to meet his eyes - those dazzling, black eyes that glittered under the setting sun, you both realized - you were both enchanted by each other.

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c-o-t-o · 7 months

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Veiled Whispers - Xavier (Part 1)

(Part 2 here)

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: Xavier x fem reader

CW: 18+ only, sexual content/smut, explicit language, drunkenness, dubcon, teasing, light bdsm (some CWs apply to other parts)

Misc: ~1k words, Part 1. This fic is supposed to take off where the 5 star memory ends with Xavier

About: After Xavier tends to your injury and sees you're still drunk, you start feeling him up. Realizing what it is you want, Xavier decides to indulge in you, finally showing you how he feels.

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

“We can't delay the sunrise, but… we can make the night a little darker.” Xavier's lips whisper into the skin of your bare shoulder.

You had been up so late to begin with, that going back to his place, the sun was already starting to rise. Xavier closes the blinds, plummeting the room back into near darkness, save for a few very dim lights. Xavier made sure he could make his room very dark for when he was exhausted and needed to sleep in the daytime. It really did feel like it was still the middle of the night.

By now you've sobered up just enough to make sense of everything going on. You were still tipsy though, how could you not be? After all of those drinks you shared with Xavier outside while watching the Valentine's Day lights, it's only natural for you to still be pretty drunk. But at least you're not blacking out anymore. You're… in a good place.

Still sitting on the edge of Xavier's bed, your eyes follow him from the windows as he walks around to the other side of his bed. He pulls the untied tie off his neck and lets it fall to the floor. Slowly crawling onto his bed on his hands and knees, he pulls you back to lay down. The sudden movement makes you a little dizzy, but it quickly subsides. When your eyes refocus, Xavier is kneeling above you, hands pressed into the bed on both sides of your head. His shirt is still completely open.

“Xavier… what-” is all you manage to say before he puts a finger to your mouth to shush you. With his face just above yours, you see his eyes so clearly, even in the dimness. His gaze, normally soft and sleepy, is now filled with determination and hazy lust. And although it almost hurts to be looked at so deeply by him, you can't bring yourself to look away. With your limited view you notice, however, blush spreading beneath his eyes and across the bridge of his nose. Seeing him blush makes your heart start racing in your chest because you begin to wonder, ‘why is he blushing?’

Your hand grazes his cheek, thumb rubbing the blush on his skin.

“You're drunk too, aren't you, Xavier? Your face is so red…” your voice trails off when you take notice of how soft, yet hot, his face has become.

“I'm not drunk…” he softly whispers, eyes averting your gaze. He slowly looks back at you, sighing, and cupping his hand over yours on his face. "Hmm. I might be, a little bit.”

Xavier closes his eyes and turns his face to kiss the inside of your hand. He pulls your arm up and begins leaving a trail of kisses from your hand, down your wrist, to your arm. You can hear his short, breathy exhales between each kiss.

Before you know it, Xavier has turned you over onto your stomach, face buried into his pillow. He kneels above you, hands gently resting on your back to keep you from turning back around.

“What are you doing?" You turn your face out of the pillow to ask. At the same time you notice just how soft and plush his pillow is. You can smell his hair and gentle cologne on it, and it gives you goosebumps.

“I've asked you many times if you were worried about me getting back at you one day.” he whispers calmly, seductively. “You're always the one touching me, so why…” his voice trails off almost sadly while he drags the back of his fingers down your cheek. “Why is it that only you get to touch me? To tease me…” his blush reddens after mentioning that. "Aren't you worried I'll get you back? When you're not looking… when your back is turned… just like you've always done to me.”

You feel Xavier gently move your hair away from your shoulder, then suddenly, his warm lips on the back of your neck. He exhales on your skin, raising goosebumps in its path. His kisses are soft and plush against your skin, slowly going from the back of your neck down towards your shoulder. Taking his time with each and every kiss as if he's trying to memorize the feeling every time. The sensation makes your head cringe with pleasure, and you can't help but to moan out loud into his pillow. The sound is muffled, but loud enough to let him know that it feels good to you.

“All I want is to be able to touch you," he murmurs quietly into your ear. “To kiss you," he says as he kisses behind your ear. “To make you feel good." Xavier lets out a low moan in your ear as he exhales on it.

All the while, unbeknownst to you since your head was spinning with pleasure, Xavier slipped the straps of your dress off your shoulders, exposing your back. He already unhooked your bra, and was tracing shapes lightly with his fingertips on your skin. You feel your skin raise at the feeling. Noticing that, Xavier presses his warm hands into your back, almost massaging your shoulders.

As gently as he can, he helps you sit up on your knees. Xavier is still behind you, kneeling, chin resting in the crook of your neck.

“You're so beautiful." He exhales as his hands glide around to your front. The top of your dress has already fallen down to your waist, breasts exposed. Xavier’s big, warm hands move around to the front of you and cups them. You glance down and see his strong hands ever so gently fondling your breasts. Every time his hands glide up to the top of them, you see the veins in his hands from his muscles tensing underneath. He handled you so delicately as if you were something to be cherished. Xavier waited so long to be able to express his love for you, and by god, he was going to do it tonight.

“I hope you're ready for what's next, my love.” Xavier nuzzles your cheek with his face while still holding your chest. “I'll make you feel so good that you'll see stars."

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace x reader #xavier #LADS xavier #love and deepspace smut #xavier smut #LADS xavier smut #xavier x you #xavier x fem reader #xavier x reader #fanfic #c-o-t-o

1K notes · View notes

annwrites · 5 months

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exactly what he needs, pt. 5 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | other parts here

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: you have an unsettling exchange with cal, you spend the day with nate, then he takes you to a party with the express purpose of getting you drunk.

— tags: shopping with nate, learning to drive, partying, swimming

— tw: f receiving oral, humping nate's thigh in public, coerced intoxication, skinny dipping, reader touching nate's genitals at his suggestion while drunk, lying, dollification, guilt-tripping/emotional manipulation (sexual & otherwise), gas lighting, major invasion of privacy, sexual assault (reader is drunk and nate touches them in a sexual way, so i count it), love-bombing, vomiting, eating | there will not be a date rape in this after the party, i promise!

— word count: 15,729

— a/n: cal, during his convo w/ reader, isn't trying to be an asshole toward nate, he's trying to give her a genuine warning. the line 'he kills what he loves' i went back & added to try & i guess pull some kind of parallel between the two men, like when cal said 'i kill what i eat' on the show. bc i do think cal is capable of love. i think nate is only capable of obsession/infatuation, which is easy to mix up in the heat of the moment.

if nate seems different w/the reader than he does w/ cassie, it's bc he's obviously still hiding his true colors with reader.

the song I had in mind during the party is dangerous (oliver remix), which was indeed used during the show.

i hope reading this feels as ominous as it did writing it lmao.

When you wake in the middle of the night, it's with Nate's arm slung heavily over your abdomen, his hand hanging off the side of the bed.

You wiggle out from under him, still naked, before picking up his t-shirt and slipping it on before quietly unlocking his door and heading down to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Once you have it, you go to head back up to bed, until you hear his father calling to you from the living room, stopping you in your tracks.

You pad into the room, the light from the TV flickering against the dark which fills near every corner. "I was just getting a glass of water," you say, worried that he may think you were trying to steal from him in the middle of the night.

"Anything else you need?"

You shake your head, wishing you were wearing more than just a t-shirt right now. "I'm all set, thank you."

"Can I ask you something?"

You shift nervously as his eyes trail from your bare legs, back up to your face. "Sure."

"How is he? Nate?"

"What do you mean?"

He shrugs, glancing back to the TV. "He doesn't talk to me. Can't stand me, as I'm sure he's told you, or, at the very least, from what you can tell all on your own. I just want to know how he's doing." He looks at you again. "I assume he talks to you."

"If you mean in regards to you: no, he doesn't. You're the one thing he refuses to open up about. He...he seems fine, though. Most of the time, at least. He just seems to have this simmering-"

"Rage?" He finishes.

You nod. "I don't know if it stems from something that happened between the two of you, or if it's from however Maddy treated him, or something else." You glance down to the floor, then back up. "Maybe it's all of it. Maybe his life has just snowballed and he doesn't know how to deal with it. But you obviously care about him. So... I know what it's like to have an absent father." You pause. "I know it isn't my place, but...try to fix whatever is broken between the two of you before it's too late. Even if he hates you for it, he'll at least know you made that effort."

Cal grows quiet, for a long while, only the TV playing softly in the background. Then, "You're a smart girl, I can tell. Mature for your age. So, I'm going to give you a piece of advice." He leans forward. "Run. My son is not the guy for you. You can't fix him, and you can't help him. You can't give aid to a drowning man who chose to jump into the deep end in the first place.

"If you stay with him, he will ruin you. But I know you will anyway, despite this conversation. Maybe in spite of it. Just know that you're not the first, and you won't be the last." He leans back again. "No woman will ever make him happy, will ever live up to his perfect ideals of femininity. And, if they do, he'll fucking hate them for it. That anger he feels toward me? Give it time. You'll become the new punching bag. He kills what he loves"

You suddenly feel sick.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

You swallow, even if your mouth has now gone dry. "Goodnight, Mr. Jacobs," you say, turning away from him.

"Cal," he calls after you.

You turn your head back to look at him.

"Just Cal is fine."

You only nod before going back upstairs.

When you close Nate's door behind you, he's still asleep.

You lock it, then lean back against it, staring at him, your head spinning.

What the hell had just happened?

You watch Nate sleep, wanting to cry. But not for yourself. No. For him. He's only seventeen, and his own father is trying to drive away someone he's only just gotten together with.

You try to piece things together.

Nate dislikes him, of course. The incident in the kitchen had seemed a bit more aggressive than Cal just joking around with him.

So, maybe...maybe he's jealous? Jealous that his son is young and still has options, whereas, at his age, he's set in his ways. But that doesn't make sense, either. Cal is handsome, successful, wealthy, has—what seems like, at least—a lovely wife. Has two sons, who you're sure will both go far, given their dad's money, if nothing else. At least, in Nate's case, it will also be due to hard work and perseverance.

No wonder Nate hates this house so much, had been so eager to get you into his room and away from...him.

It'd been something in the way he had looked at you that had made your skin crawl. Like he could see everything under the thin t-shirt draped over your frame.

Then you wonder if that's true at all, or if Nate's disdain for him is just rubbing off, creating a perception of him that isn't even real.

You want to blame it all on being tired, but you can't just ignore what Cal had told you.

So you finally lie down next to Nate, his body quickly pulling your own against his—finding you even in his sleep—and you stare up at the ceiling.

You try to think back through every interaction you've had with Nate the last couple of weeks. Trying to find any blaring red flags.

This had all started out as a secret: the tutoring.

You wonder if you should've brought it up to his dad just to see his reaction. To see if it would even bother him. But, even if not, it's easy for children to be terrified of disappointing their parents so much so that they hide things that said parent would never even get upset over.

There'd been the Fezco story, which hadn't seemed quite right to you. Rue was a drug addict, a sad fact, but a fact nonetheless. However, she seemed to mostly mind her own business and keep to herself. She never seemed the kind to stir up pointless drama. So, why would she target Nate randomly?

You mentally file that away for further observation.

Then there was his dressing you and doing your hair, which still came off as a bit odd. But maybe it's just another way of him trying to show affection? And honestly...you kind of like it. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes you feel warm and looked after.

And it's less for you to have to worry about. At least if he's doing your hair, it saves you time and effort in fighting with it.

Him spending obscene amounts of money on you without your permission had been a bit much for your comfort levels, but as you look at him, your heart breaks.

He'd told you how with Maddy he'd done all he could to "get her to love him back". And you're sure that's what he's trying to do with you, because that's what she had taught him love is: financially transactional.

Honestly, you want to hold him just thinking about it.

What had happened to this poor, sweet boy to make him think that he alone isn't good enough?

From his father being cruel and overly-critical, to Maddy being emotionally and verbally abusive, to Cassie being controlling and possessive, he's done nothing but endure mistreatment after mistreatment from people that're supposed to love him and that he tried to love himself.

You stop trying to find something wrong with him then. Instead focusing on the good. Him giving you compliments, always getting the door for you, driving you places, taking you on dates, giving you sweet gifts, helping you with the groceries, opening up to you and you also doing as much with him...the list goes on.

You cuddle closer to his chest, thinking, as you drift off to sleep, that Maddy and Cassie have no idea what they've lost.

When Nate wakes the next morning, you're still asleep, pressed against his side. And as he lays there, looking down at you—you breathing softly—he says it for the first time in a quiet whisper.

"I love you."

You don't stir, even for a moment.

And he means it. Really means it this time.

Because he knows he's finally fucking done right by himself. He'd studied and observed and manipulated you for two weeks until finally getting you into his bed, and you'd played along beautifully. Backing down at every turn when he needed or wanted you to, letting him have control.

From choosing places you both went together, to ordering for you at the bistro, him choosing your clothes, doing your hair, driving you around, letting him touch you—even if you weren't entirely comfortable with it, but allowing it anyway because you knew it made him happy—to making yourself smaller and sweeter and more agreeable to him in his moments of anger and irritation... You were perfectly submissive and gentle and soft.

He'd only have to make a few more tweaks here and there and his work would be done. You'd be everything he's been waiting and looking for.

He lays back against the headboard, fingers dancing along the bare skin of your back—it'd only taken one evening to get you naked and spreading you legs for him in bed. And he didn't think less of you for it. If you'd been with anyone else before, he would, absolutely. But he'd seen the proof plain as fucking day while going down on you last night: you're still intact. No one else has touched you.

No, you'd done it because you were falling, whether you knew it or not. And because he had tons of experience over you. All you had known in that sweet, innocent little mind of yours was that you wanted more of what he was willing to give you. Because it felt so much better when it was coming from another person. From him.

He grabs his phone, scrolling through Instagram, checking his email, his texts, while he waits for you to wake up next to him.

When you wake, it's with your face pressed against Nate's side. It takes you a moment to realize he's already awake, sitting up.

You sit up as well, covering yourself with a dark blue sheet.

"Good morning," you say shyly.

He drops his phone onto his bedside table, giving you his full attention. "Morning, angel."

He leans forward, planting a soft kiss to your lips.

You reach up. "My hair is probably a mess," you say nervously.

He leans back. "You look perfect. But you can use the bathroom if you want."

You nod, standing, and Nate takes in your naked body before you slip on his t-shirt, walking into the bathroom.

Once you've relieved yourself, you brush your teeth, then gasp when you look in the mirror before starting on your hair.

You quickly open the bathroom door and Nate looks at you with a lazy look on his face.

"What did you do?" You ask, fingers reaching up to gently press against the dark purple bruise he'd left on your neck.

He smirks. "Oops."

Blood rushes to your face in embarrassment. "People will see this."

He shrugs. "Let 'em."

You cross your arms, feeling uncomfortable. "It...it looks trashy."

He sighs. "It looks like a hicky."

"Nate-"

He rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, what, did I fuck up last night, too? I thought you enjoyed it."

You withdraw into yourself. "N-no, you didn't. I did—enjoy it, I mean."

He lowers his hand, looking up to you with a hurt expression. "Do you regret it?"

You feel absolutely horrible.

You pad over to him, sitting down beside him, taking one of his hands in yours, the other coming up to cup his cheek. "No, of course not. I liked it...all of it. I'm sorry. I overreacted."

You wrap your arms around his neck, and his face quickly returns to normal as you hug him.

"I enjoyed it, Nate. That's the first time I've done anything. I'm glad it was with you." You whisper, pressing your body closer to his own.

He waits a moment, lets you sweat over a possibility of having truly hurt him, then you relax when his arms wind around you.

"If you don't want me to in the fut-"

You pull back. "No, I do." You don't really wanting to be walking around with love bites for all to see, but you'll just have to figure out a way to cover them up in the future.

You'd rather that than making him worry that you don't enjoy being intimate with him.

You press your lips to his. You look at him for a moment, giving him a soft smile before you stand, returning to the bathroom.

Once you've brushed your hair, and washed your face, you return to bed, sitting next to Nate.

You gingerly take one of his hands in your own.

“Are you hungry?” You ask.

He glances between your legs, then back into your eyes.

You blush, looking down.

“Are you?”

You shrug. “I could eat.” You look at him again. “Do you want me to make you breakfast again?”

He slowly moves his hand up your thigh. He doesn’t like the idea of his dad seeing you like this. Bare from your thighs down—more-so uncomfortable because you have nothing on underneath the t-shirt you’re wearing, even if he wishes you hadn’t bothered with putting it back on in the first place.

He stands. “Let me see if I can find you a pair of shorts or something.”

“I thought you said nothing you have will fit?”

He doesn’t reply as he pulls a pair of drawstring basketball shorts out of his dresser, turning around to hand them to you. “Put these on.”

You stand, doing as instructed, cinching the waist. They still look ridiculously big, but they stay in-place.

“Good enough,” he says before pulling on a t-shirt and putting on his sweatpants from last night—before going to sleep he’d taken them off, only sleeping in his boxers. He typically sleeps naked, but knew doing so last night most likely wouldn’t have been a good idea. Perhaps after you stay over a few more times he’ll strip one night, letting you wake up to his naked body pressed against yours.

He takes your hand as the two of you exit his room and he leads you downstairs.

You’d slept until nearly eleven, so the rest of the house is already up. He just hopes you sleeping so late isn’t a regular thing. But he understands that you’d exerted yourself a bit more than usual last night. He smirks at the thought.

Thankfully, the kitchen is empty when Nate leads you into it.

You lean back against a counter. “What would you like to eat?”

He seats himself at the island. “Do you know how to make an omelette?”

You smile. “Yes.”

You go to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs, some cheese, and you grab a bell pepper from a fruit bowl on the counter, setting it all down.

You begin pulling open drawers, looking for a knife, a whisk, and a bowl, and Nate just watches with idle amusement at you familiarizing yourself with his kitchen.

You and Nate eat side-by-side, his knee brushing against yours as he takes bites of his omelette.

He swallows. “I know I said it before, but you really are a good fucking cook.”

You glance at him and smile. “Thank you.”

Once the two of you are finished, Nate helps you load the dishwasher. “What do you want to do today?”

You lean back against the counter again and he plants his palms flat on either side of you, caging you in.

You grip the hem of his t-shirt. “I’m not sure.”

“I could take you shopping again?”

Your heart sinks.

You reach up, gently touching your fingertips against his cheek. Your eyes have softened as you look into his own.

“I know we talked about it before, and that you said that’s not why you did it, but I don’t ever want you to think you have to buy my affection, Nate. And I know you also said you didn’t want to talk about them anymore, but I’m not Maddy. My feelings for you aren’t transactional. I’m with you for you. And I’ll never try to control you like Cassie.”

You briefly think back to your exchange with his father last night and that well of sadness you now feel for him deepens. You wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his hair. “I just want you. Exactly as you are. You’re more than enough for me. Please don’t ever feel like you have to bend over backwards to make, or keep me happy. I’m just glad I finally have someone to talk to and spend time with; that I'm not alone anymore.”

Nate slowly wraps his arms around you as well, wondering what the hell had come over you. He doesn’t dislike it. No, the very opposite. He likes it when you’re soft and kind with him. Not because he needs it, but because your feminine personality, especially in moments like this, more than compliment his masculine one.

All he can think is: this is exactly how it’s supposed to be. You submissive and sweet, loving and caring. Cooking and cleaning and doing as you’re told, letting him—one man—teach you about sex and your own body. Letting him make your decisions for you, like what you can wear, how to do your hair—he plans to expand that list drastically as time goes on. Also letting him think for you in the future, he hopes.

His sob stories about Maddy and Cassie had worked, apparently. A few truths, a few lies, and you saw him as someone who’d been used and taken advantage of by evil women.

You saw him as a good man.

He doesn’t wish he were. He knows what he is. He just hopes he can keep you blind to that truth for awhile longer. At least until after the two of you have started having sex.

He presses his face into your hair. “I’m so glad I met you. Even if it had to happen twice.”

You nod. “Me too.”

Neither of you are aware of it, but his mom stands just around the corner, tears stinging her eyes. And she knows her little boy has finally found the right girl for himself.

When you pull away from Nate, he caresses both of your cheeks, bringing his lips down to your own. His hand slips under the oversized t-shirt hanging from your frame , moving higher until he's cupping one of your bare breasts. He rubs the pad of his thumb against your nipple until it pebbles.

You pull away and he quickly moves his lips to your neck, sucking on that same hicky from last night.

You gasp. "Nate, what if someone walks in?"

He gently bites down and your hips buck against him.

He lifts you onto the counter, moving his lips back to yours, considering reaching his hand into his shorts that hang from your hips, until his phone vibrates in his pocket.

He bites back a curse at the ruined moment.

He pulls away from you with an irritated sigh and you wait patiently while he checks the notification.

He scans over the message, then looks up to you. "Do you want to go to a party tonight?"

You blink at him. "Like a birthday party?"

He smiles at your sweet innocence. "No, baby, a real party."

"Oh." You consider it for a moment. "I've never been to one."

He smirks, stepping closer to you, between your dangling legs. "I figured as much."

"Do you want to go?"

In truth, he usually wouldn't much care either way, but he knows this is a perfect opportunity to get you drunk, just to see what he can get out of it—out of you.

"I wouldn't mind it. It'd give us something to do tonight."

He give him a peck on the lips. "Okay."

He'd honestly thought you'd try to talk him into some fairytale movie night instead. He's pleased with your easy agreement.

"The party doesn't start until nine, which really means to show up after ten, at least. So we have the whole day ahead of us. We could run over to your place, get you changed, and pick up an outfit for tonight." He doesn't mention also getting pajamas for when he brings you back here after getting you loaded. You can either sleep naked or in something of his. But he'll make that decision then.

"Okay," you say pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Once you've changed I'll give you your first driving lesson."

You still then, and he dislikes your sudden change in demeanor. He prefers you agreeable and cute.

"What do you mean?"

He raises a brow. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be putting you on the interstate your first day. I'll teach you some of the basics in the school parking lot."

He moves his hand back under your shirt, gripping the curve of your side.

"And that's all, right?"

He nods.

You gently grip his t-shirt. "Okay."

He smiles.

Once you and Nate have arrived at your house, he follows you into your bedroom. Before you can open your closet to find a proper outfit to change into, he beats you to it. You stand to the side, still unsure how to feel about him picking out your clothes.

You say nothing about it, however, telling yourself it's one way he shows affection.

He hands you the blue babydoll dress he'd bought you, then picks up a pair of matte silver flats from your small shoe rack at the bottom of your closet, setting them near your bedroom door.

Without a word, without even your permission, he opens the top drawer of your dresser and begins to browse your panties and bras.

"W-what're you-"

He looks at you over his shoulder. "I've already seen you naked, sweetheart. Am I not allowed to pick out your panties?"

You blush furiously—your cheeks hot—before sitting down on your bed. You don't answer as he turns back around, picking out a pair of sky-blue panties with tiny dark-blue flowers printed on them and a white bra with lace trim and a heart sewn in the middle.

He tosses the items on your bed.

"Stand up for me, baby."

You do as he asks and he slowly pushes the hem of the t-shirt you're wearing up. You lift your arms and he removes it entirely, dropping it on the floor. You feel the need to cover your bare breasts, but refrain as he rubs the pads of his thumbs over each of your nipples.

He then reaches down, puling at the drawstring of the shorts he'd given you to wear and they fall to the carpeted floor, pooling at your feet.

You feel beyond self-conscious being completely naked before him in the daylight.

And he can tell just by your shift in body language. Pressing your thighs together, hands clasped in front of your genitals. And you refuse to look at him now.

He cups one of your cheeks in his hand, his other arm resting at his side. "Are you insecure?"

You shrug.

His lip twitches. Good, he thinks.

Maddy had been too fucking confident in every way. And Cassie had been completely secure in her looks, her body. And he'd thought them both shallow sluts for it.

But you? You have humility. You need his approval. Because you have no idea what you have.

"Look at me, Y/N."

You do so reluctantly.

"Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are? What seeing you like this does to me?"

He uses his free hand to grab at his erection over his jeans and fills with such fucking satisfaction at seeing your pure, innocent eyes widen when you look down.

You look back up to him. "O-oh."

He glances to your bed behind you, that teddy still in-place. He looks at you again, your eyes watching him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

And he revels in it.

"Lie back on the bed, sweetheart."

You give a terse nod before doing so.

He leans over you, grabbing your bear, before handing it to you. "Hold this."

Your brows furrow, but you take the plush object from his grip.

He stands back up, removing his leather jacket before tossing it toward your chair in the corner. He then kneels down on the floor at the foot of your bed. Finally, he reaches forward, grabbing your hips and bringing himself face-to-face with that pretty pussy of yours.

"N-nate, wha-"

He immediately gets you to shut up by throwing your legs over his shoulders just like last night and devouring your already-wet pussy.

You grip your bear tighter, your body relaxing.

Nate eventually removes his lips from your cunt after a few minutes, then starts planting firm, wet kisses against your inner-thighs. Slowly. One after another after another. Occasionally sucking in one spot here, another there, working at giving you a couple more hickys, marking your privates as his very own.

He does the same as last night, gripping your hips in his large hands, keeping you still.

You whimper quietly, so he blows against your weeping pussy and you wiggle your hips, trying to get closer and he grins.

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your clit and watches as you pulsate for just a moment.

He reaches down, spreading your labia with his fore and middle fingers and admiring your in-tact seal. Mine, all fucking mine, he thinks before putting his mouth back on you.

He looks up, sees you gripping your teddy bear, biting your lip, your back arched and he moans against you at the beautiful fucking sight of you spread open and completely vulnerable before him.

He has you so fucking duped—thinking he's some injured boy looking for love—when all he really wants is to possess every part of you.

But he knows he's the best thing for you. What you need.

Not any of the idiotic guys at school who wouldn't know how to appreciate you. Wouldn't know how to provide for or protect you. Wouldn't know the first thing to do with you, other than try to shove their cocks in your face, or between your legs.

No, he wants you for far, far longer, and for far more than just some quick fuck.

You're sweet, inexperienced, and all alone. Not even you know what you need, what you want, who you are. But he does.

He runs his tongue along your hymen and you cry out and his eyes roll in pleasure at the sound. Finally he's gotten you to make some fucking noise.

He does it again and your body shudders.

He does his utmost to ignore his cock straining painfully against his pants.

He removes his mouth from you again and he hears a sound escape your lips that's something akin to a sob.

He begins to kiss your thighs again, working his way down to your knees, then back up each side. He sucks against the soft skin, leaving angry purple bruises on both sides before blowing against your clit again. You throw your teddy down out of frustration and he knows he nearly has you there.

He blows again, flicks his tongue lightly against your clit, a kiss and then another on either of your thighs, lightly biting. And then finally, finally, you reach down, tangling your fingers in his hair and you move your pussy closer, your ass now nearly hanging off the edge of the bed.

He looks up at you. "This what you want, sweetheart?"

Your fingers tighten then loosen against his scalp. "Mhm."

He blows against your dripping pussy. "You want me to let you cum, baby?"

You look down at him and your cheeks are a lovely shade of pink, your eyes glazed over with lust. "Please, Nate."

"How about pretty please?"

You lie back down against your fluffy white pillows with their frilly cases. "Pretty please?"

He kisses your right thigh. "Can you say with sugar on top?"

You squirm your hips and he holds them each in an iron-tight grip against the bed.

You let out a small sob.

She's finally fucking crying, he thinks.

"With sugar on top, please, p-pretty please?"

He kisses your left thigh, sucking on that pretty purple bruise of his own doing.

"And a cherry?" He asks.

You let out another sob and he can see a tear slip from your eye, dampening a spot on the pillow beneath your head.

God it's hardly taken him any effort at all. But, then again, you have nothing to compare him to.

"Prettypleasewithsugarontopandacherry?"

It all comes out as one long, garbled word, you say it so quickly. But he deems it good enough. He knows he's humiliated you by making you beg. But that you're so desperate for it that you'll do anything to have his mouth back on you.

"Good girl," he says before getting back to work with his tongue.

You start crying. "T-thank you."

It's after another ten minutes—you whining and grinding yourself into his mouth, whispering his name quietly over and over again—that he finally lets you fall over the edge. And it's something beautiful to fucking behold when you do.

Halfway through, he'd spread your right leg wider, his hand squeezing your thigh, keeping it in-place. He'd found your left hand with his, twining his fingers between yours, your hand squeezing his every few seconds as you concentrated on trying to find your release.

And when you orgasm, your hand squeezes his so hard it hurts, even a bit. He keeps your legs spread as you arch your back, your fingers tugging against his hair, rubbing your pussy against his mouth. And once you've calmed, your hammering heart slowing, he keeps your legs spread, watching your ass and pussy pulsate slowly. It's only once they've both stopped that he allows you to finally close your legs.

He climbs up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and you cry quietly for a moment and you can't understand why.

He shooshes you. "It's alright, baby. You did so fucking good for me."

He places a soft kiss to the top of your head and you close your eyes, pressing yourself closer to him.

You feel so...different. Your body feels hot all over, a pleasant soreness between your legs, your thigh muscles a bit more overworked than usual, and your head feels...a bit foggy somehow? You feel relaxed for once. Content.

And the way you feel about Nate in this moment... You can't think like that. Can't acknowledge that little four-letter word. You were being ridiculous. But you'd never felt like this before. Never felt the way you had last night in his bed, either.

You can't say it. If you do, you'll lose him. And you can't lose anyone else. Because you have no one else to turn to if you do.

Now that you know how good it feels to be cared for and wanted and desired, you don't ever want to be alone again.

You suddenly feel tired and feel yourself starting to drift off to sleep against his broad, warm chest, his hands rubbing soothing circles against your bare back. You press your palms against him and yawn.

Then, "You ready for me to get you dressed, angel?"

Your eyes slowly flutter open. "I'm so tired."

He smirks. You would be.

Wait until he starts fucking you multiple times a day. You won't have energy for anything else. Or, that's the plan, at least. All you'll want is to stay naked in his bed. Too exhausted to even get up and put a t-shirt on.

He squeezes your small, soft body for a moment. "I know, but I really wanted to give you your first driving lesson today."

Not that he plans to let you start driving—not that you have the means to do so in the first place—but because he knows you'll learn sooner or later, and he wants to be the one to teach you yet one more thing.

He doesn't want it coming from another man, even if it's your dad.

You're his.

He sits up and you bury your face in a pillow and all he can do is think how cute you look.

"C'mon, let's go get you cleaned up."

You look up at him, at his outstretched hand, and you take it, following him sleepily to the bathroom.

As you stand in the shower, Nate gently wiping down your naked body with a warm, soapy cloth, you almost want to cry from how loved you feel.

You just can't manage to wrap your head around how Maddy or Cassie could've ever treated him the way they did. How Maddy could've been so cruel. Could've only wanted him for what he could give her. How she could've been so materialistic when he alone is so...wonderful.

You suppose you understand Cassie losing it over the thought of losing him. But it seems so evil to try and trap someone so kind and thoughtful in a relationship they no longer feel safe or comfortable in.

God, no reason he doesn't want to talk about either of them.

And then his dad treating him so terribly and trying to drive you away almost immediately after the two of you get together... You wonder if it isn't so Nate won't be 'distracted'. If he's the type of man to try and force his son to live up to some ideal image of manhood he himself could never quite achieve.

Your heart swells with affection for Nate, just like it did last night and this morning both.

You're broken from your thoughts by him speaking. "Turn."

You do.

Once Nate has rinsed you off, even shaved your legs, and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, he gestures for you to sit on the toilet lid and you watch as he pulls out your straightener like the day before.

You sit silently for a moment as he runs it over your hair. Then you decide you have to finally ask about his interest in styling.

"Nate?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

He's quiet for a moment, then, "Sure."

"How did you learn to do hair?"

He raises a brow, even if you can't see it. "Just comes naturally, I guess."

"Is...is that something you think you'd like to do one day? Styling or barbering?"

He nearly laughs at you. A straight man as a stylist.

"No. I just like doing yours."

"Oh." Then, "Why? Do you not like how I do it?"

Your tone sounds hurt, if not also a bit worried.

Good, you're finally worried about what he thinks of your appearance. You want his approval.

"I didn't say that. I just like taking care of you; dressing you up."

Like a doll, you think, but you don't say it.

He drops his hands, the hot tool now hanging by his side. "Why? Do you want me to stop doing it? Does it bother you that much?"

You turn back to him, gripping the towel wound around you. "No. I didn't say that."

You echo his own words back at him and his jaw feathers, not liking it. He'd picked out your clothes for you, gave you an orgasm without asking for anything in return, bathed you, and was now doing your hair, and you wanted to get fucking smart with him?

His free hand twitches at his side.

"It means...it means a lot to me, Nate. That you want to do things like this for me. That you care enough to try in the first place. No one has ever been so sweet to me." A tear falls and you quickly wipe it away, looking up at him again. "You're the most selfless person I've ever met."

He softens, his jaw relaxing, his fist loosening. He kneels down. "You're sure you don't mind?"

You shake your head, giving him a warm smile. "You make me feel so..." You trail off. You can't say loved. "So cared for. And safe."

You lean forward, kissing him softly. He moves his free hand under your towel and it falls open. He slides his hand from your thigh, to your hips, then to your back, pulling you closer to him. Finally, you wrap your arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss, flicking his tongue against your lips, silently asking for entrance, which you immediately grant him. Just as you start to spread your legs, clearly wanting him to give you something more, he stands, returning to your hair.

And as he finishes up with the straightener, all he can do is bite back an amused smile at you having called him 'selfless'. As if the things he does to you are for you.

Once Nate has finished with your hair—parting the fronts on either side from the rest, then joining them together in the back with a light blue bow he clips into place—he leads you back into your room.

He kneels down in front of you again, slipping your panties over your legs—you gripping his shoulder for support as you put one foot through one side, then the same with the other—he plants a quick kiss to your belly, which makes you giggle—the sound making him hard again. He then puts your bra on you.

Once he's clasped the back, he grabs your new dress and carefully lowers it over your head, careful not to mess up your hair. Once he's tied the large bow at the back of it, he adjusts your Tiffany necklace.

The pendant still resting in his palm, he looks at you. "Can you promise me something?"

You nod gently.

"Don't ever take this necklace off unless I tell you otherwise."

You're quiet for a moment, then, "Okay."

Once Nate has slipped your flats onto your feet, he looks you over for a moment, his eyes honing in on the hicky he'd left on your neck.

You stare back at him for a moment, before reaching up and pressing your fingertips against it. "I think I have some concealer-"

He shakes his head, not feeling like bothering with giving you a full-face of makeup at the moment.

"Do you have any chokers?"

Your brows furrow. "The necklaces?"

"Mhm."

You shake your head. "I never really got into those."

Well, you're about to, he thinks. He offers you his hand. "Let's go."

You slide your palm against his.

Once you're seated in Nate's truck, you grab your seatbelt, until he holds it in-place before you can pull it across your chest.

"Let me."

You let go and wait as he reaches across you, buckling you in. "I-I can do that."

He gives you a peck on the lips and a smile. "It's fine, I don't mind," he states before shutting your door.

Just as you're perhaps ten minutes away from the school, Nate turns down an unfamiliar road.

"I thought we were going to the school parking lot?"

He slides his hand up your thigh, under your dress, until it's so close to your panties he can feel your heat. "Just making a little detour, something I want to pick up real quick."

Perhaps five minutes later he pulls up to a small, expensive-looking boutique. He exits the truck before you can ask him what's going on, coming around to your side. He goes through the same—but also slightly-new—rendition of opening your door, and now also unbuckling you. He grabs you by the hips, helping you down, then taking your hand firmly in his as he walks inside.

An older woman with straight grey hair, an orange dress, and glasses calls out to the both of you, welcoming you to her shop.

You greet her back, while Nate all but ignores her.

"What are you looking for?" You ask, looking at him.

"I need to see if they even have it first."

He looks to the woman. "Where's your jewelry section?"

She points to the back of the store. "Back there and to the right. Let me know if you need help finding anything. Or need something ordered in a different size or color."

He leads you alongside him, until he finds a small display of lacy chokers.

He releases your hand, picking one up, holding it toward you.

You shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "I don't wear them for a reason. They're called chokers for a reason. They're really uncomfortable and-"

He cuts you off by tying it around your neck. "You wanted to cover the hicky I gave you. So, unless you want to put on a sweater in this heat, I don't see any other options."

You go silent, feeling like he's wrapping a collar around your throat instead.

He notices your sudden change in demeanor.

"What's wrong?"

You reach up, gently touching the fabric wrapped around your throat. "I don't know." Your tone is unsure.

He flexes his jaw. He takes a calming breath, refusing to make a scene in public. He sighs, cupping your cheek. "I just thought I'd buy you one to make you feel better. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." He smirks, trying to come off as playful, flirty even. "I might prefer it if you don't, actually."

You blush, a small smile coming onto your lips.

He nearly releases a breath of relief.

He's fine with letting you think that him putting a collar of ownership on you was all your idea. He's fine with letting you think it's something else entirely.

You look in the small mirror set up off to the side of the jewelry selection. "I guess it feels okay."

He picks up a few more then. "Anything you'd like to look at while we're here?"

You shake your head immediately and it displeases him.

He leans down, kisses you, then whispers against your lips. "We're not leaving until you've picked out something for me to buy for you."

He kisses you again and again, then pulls away.

"You're sure?"

He nods. "I told you yesterday that I plan to spoil you fucking rotten. I like buying you presents, sweetheart. So let me."

Even if he knows it's just another form of him love-bombing you.

You gently twine your fingers between his and begin to browse.

By the time the two of you are done, Nate has spent over three-hundred dollars on you.

You'd only picked out a pair of sunglasses and a cheap pair of earrings, hoping that'd be enough for him, but he'd shopped more for you than you had for yourself.

He'd bought you two more dresses, a pair of jean cut-off shorts with a light-purple shirt to go with them, a new pair of sandals, the chokers he'd picked up when you first came in, and a few bows for your hair, along with a couple bottles of nail polish.

Just as you'd thought the two of you nearly finished, Nate had stopped, you bumping into his backside.

"Sorry," you'd said, squeezing his hand, but he'd not been paying any attention to you.

And when you followed his line-of-sight, your eyes grew wider.

No. Not lingerie.

But it was too late. He was already leading you over to their wide array of options. From simple bras and panties, to thongs, garters, chemises, but Nate only shows interest in, of course, babydolls.

He picks up a burgundy one, holding it up to you, but not looking at you, but your body. He shakes his head, then flips through the other colors before finding a soft pink one. He removes it from the rack.

"Nate-"

He quickly cuts you off. "We'll get this one. I'd like to see it on you at some point."

He takes your hand as he leads you up to the register.

You'd stood silently by his side as he swiped a shiny black credit card, an unsettling feeling in your gut, but you merely pressed yourself against his side then—willing it away—and he'd pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head as he grabbed the decorative boutique bags off the counter with one hand, taking yours in the other as he led you back out to his truck.

You're silent the entire way to the school, Nate's hand wedged firmly between your thighs, and it feels like the choker around your neck grows tighter.

Once Nate has pulled into the school parking lot, he kills the engine, turning to you.

He'd noticed your silence on the way to your destination. Had noticed your refusal to look in his direction. Instead keeping your eyes on the passing scenery outside your window.

He knows he's moving too fast, doing too much. That it's making you uncomfortable. Perhaps more than uncomfortable. And he fears that if he pushes too much harder, right now, at least, you might just jump ship. You've only been together since Thursday evening. Not even a full two days yet.

But he's good with words, always knows exactly what to say after reading someone to get desired results.

You're no different.

He turns toward you, you still looking out the window. "Hey," he says softly, quietly. "Can you look at me?"

A couple seconds pass and then you do.

He removes his hand from between your legs, instead using it to take one of your own in his. He looks down at your hands, furrowing his brows. "I'm sorry if...if maybe I did too much back there. If I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention. I just..." He looks out the windshield. "I see everything you've gone without. Things I never have. Nice clothes, shoes..."

He looks back at you then. "Even just someone to talk to. I just..." He sighs, acting like he's at a loss for words. "The last thing I want is for you to continue on that way. So, sometimes, I like to buy you gifts. Take you to nice places on dates. Above all else, I want to make sure you're always happy.

"I want you to feel as happy as you've made me in the time we've spent together. Because I've never met anyone like you. Someone so good-natured and empathetic and affectionate. I think that's honestly what it is," he says with a small laugh, as if he's just figured something out. "I've never had that before. From anyone. So it makes me want to...to be better. It makes me so fucking happy to do things for you. To take care of you. I feel like maybe you bring out the softer side of me—the best of me. A side of me I don't ever share with anyone else. Because every time I have, they've either used it against me, or taken advantage, or mocked me for it. So, I feel like I always have to keep it under lock and key.

"And now I feel like it's only served to make you uncomfortable and-"

You interrupt him by reaching up, pressing your palm against his cheek. Now you understood it better. It wasn't just about him liking to give you gifts. No. It went far deeper than that.

This—this young man right here—is who he's always been. But he's never felt allowed to show it. The last thing you want to do is make him feel, yet again, like he needs to hide it away.

This is the side of him that you want to see.

"It did. Because for a second it felt like...like maybe you're trying to change me or..." You don't want to say it, but you're both being honest. "Or maybe control me? And after only a couple days together, that frightened me. But now? Nate, this," you say, reaching down to take his other hand in yours. "This is the one thing you can give me that I actually need. Honesty. If I understand it—you—then it won't bother me. Whatever it is."

You rub your thumb against the back of his hand. "You don't ever have to be afraid of being like this with me. Of opening up. If anything, it makes me feel closer to you. I know some girls expect men to be masculine and tough all the time, but I don't. I just want you as you are."

He gives you a loving look. He reaches across the console, wrapping his muscled arms around you, his hand cupping the back of your head. "I'm so glad I have you now."

You nod. "Me too."

He pulls back the least bit, simply looking into your eyes, until you press a kiss to his lips, and then another, and then he grabs your chin, deepening it. After a moment, you climb across the truck, into his lap, your legs bent on either side of him. He quickly reaches down, sliding the seat back. He then reaches under your dress, into the back of your panties, squeezing your ass in each of his hands and you grind down against him, gasping lightly before pressing your mouth back against his.

His cock is already straining against his jeans, desperately aching to finally fucking be inside of you, but he once again tells himself no, even if he's already grown sick and fucking tired of it.

He then reaches into your panties, his palm flat against your slick pussy.

You pull away a bit.

"I want you to cum on my hand," he whispers.

You don't even think about it before you begin to buck your hips against his palm, bringing your mouth back down to his own.

In a few minutes, the truck is shaking from the movements of your hips, trying desperately to reach your finish, pushing down against him as much as the limited space the two of you occupy allows.

Damned bucket seats, you think.

Nate wants to shove a finger or two inside of you, but knows that seal is meant to be broken by his cock and his cock alone.

Eventually, you groan in frustration. He reaches up, throwing some hair back behind your shoulder, which your dress is beginning to slip off of. "What's wrong, baby? Tell me what you need."

You whimper, grabbing his arm, humping his hand, but it's no use on its own.

"Would my leg be better, angel?"

You look up at him and nod.

First, he reaches around, pulling loose the bow tied against your back, then pulling down the top of your dress, until that lacy little bra is visible. He quickly unhooks it at the back, tossing it into the passenger seat. He then grabs your hips, repositioning you over his left thigh.

"Go on, sweetheart, cum for me."

As you begin to grind down against his thigh—a shudder wracking through your body—he leans forward, taking one of your breasts in his mouth.

"Mm, so much better," you say quietly, head thrown back.

His hand is now soaked, but he reaches into the back of your panties once again, gripping your ass, feeling your movements as you ride his leg.

It's only a few minutes later that he begins to feel a wet sensation against his thigh and he pulls back, watching you.

Your face, neck, and chest are red with a sex flush, your soft breasts as well. He firmly grips your hips. "Come on, angel. Cum for me."

You begin to move faster, grinding down against him, whimpering, sighing.

"That's it, baby, I know. I know it feels good."

You whine, nodding your head.

"You look so fucking beautiful. Cum on my leg, sweetheart. You're almost there. Come on, baby."

It only takes a few more seconds before you fall over the edge. "Ah, Nate!"

You press your lips back to his, riding out your orgasm, bucking your hips against his thigh until you're sore and can't go anymore.

And his cock is throbbing from you saying his name as you climaxed. A sound he'd hoped to hear last night, or even this morning, but all that mattered was that he now had that lovely fucking sound in his head.

You only whispering his name in your room hadn't been nearly satisfactory enough.

Once your movements have slowed, you slump against him, your breathing ragged.

He holds you, hands rubbing against your bare back. He presses a kiss to the side of your head. "You did such a good job, angel."

You lie your head on his shoulder. "I did?"

He hums in approval. "I fucking loved hearing you say my name like that."

You pull back, eyes now hooded. "Really?"

He smirks. "Of course. Why wouldn't I like that?"

You gently plant your palms against his chest.

"Did you like that?"

You look at him from under your lashes and nod shyly.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Good."

You glance down at his erection, then back up to him. "Should I-"

He shakes his head. "I just wanted to take care of you. I enjoy helping you cum."

Lies, fucking lies. Yes, he enjoys knowing he's the one making you orgasm, but God if he doesn't want to pull his cock out and force it down your warm wet throat right now just to get some fucking relief.

But he can't. Not here. Not like this.

You nod.

He grabs your bra and begins dressing you again.

"Right blinker."

You glance at the levers on either side of the steering wheel. You know it's one of them, but unsure which one exactly.

You look at him.

"Try the lever on the left side."

A small green arrow starts blinking on the dash.

"Now left one."

A new arrow appears.

"Hazard lights."

Once Nate has schooled you on the various buttons and levers and switches his truck has to offer—you hope can you remember all of them—he makes you identify the brake and then the gas, then the gas and then the brake over and over, before telling you to adjust your mirrors, and finally instructing you to take the vehicle out of park and do a lap around the parking lot.

You don't go over ten miles per hour as you do as instructed, his palm resting on your thigh all the while for support.

One you've reached the spot where you first started, you press down on the brakes a bit too hard—the both of you lurch forward in your seats.

Your face grows warm and you look at him, gripping the wheel tighter. "Sorry."

He chuckles and you're glad you at least got him to smile. "It's ok. We'll work on that. Go ahead and go around again."

You do as instructed.

At the end of your lessons, Nate deems that you've done rather well. He'd had you drive around the parking lot a few times, reverse, park, even parallel park, which wasn't your favorite, but he tells you that all of it will improve in time the more he has you do it.

When he finally comes around to the driver's side to unbuckle you, you can't help but smile at how...special you feel.

He'd told you before you ever even switched seats that he'd never let another person drive his truck. Ever.

You'd thanked him for the privilege, then joked that you would only put, at most, a couple dents in it.

He'd told you he might have to punish you if that happened, his hand snaking between your legs.

On the way back to Nate's house, he'd called ahead and ordered the two of you Chinese for dinner, saying he wouldn't take you to a party on an empty stomach.

You'd merely told him thank you, twining his fingers between your own, his other wrist draped over the wheel.

As the two of you sat at the dining room table in his house, eating your dinner side-by-side, he'd fed you some of his Kung Pao chicken, your throat immediately burning. He'd laughed as you gulped down half a glass of water.

You ignored his telling you water would only make it worse as you drank more.

He finished half his food, putting the rest away in the fridge before coming to sit back down beside you while you finished, his body facing yours, pressing soft kisses to your hair every few moments as you ate your rice and chicken.

And at one point, when you'd finally looked at him, the look in his eyes was nothing short of adoring.

He merely continued to stare at you, his fingers threading through your hair. "You're so beautiful."

"Thank you."

He nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before you went back to eating.

So polite, he thought. Even after giving you oral you had thanked him—thanked him—for getting you to orgasm. God, you were so different than anyone he'd ever had before.

As his eyes trailed over your body, he couldn't help but smile at knowing you're his.

Once you're full, he leads you up to his room, stripping you out of your outfit for the day, before slipping one of his t-shirts on over your head for you to relax in for the next couple of hours before he gets you ready for the party.

You seat yourself on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to decide what the two of you are going to do next, until he sits down on his lifting bench.

"Do you care if I work out for a little bit?"

You shake your head. "Go ahead," you say with a smile. Perhaps even a little eager to watch him.

He lies back, legs spread, feet planted on the floor on either side of him, then reaches up to start weight-lifting.

You lean forward, your legs crossed, elbows pressed into your thighs, head resting on your fists as you watch him with utter desire.

The way his biceps flex, his abs taught as he pushes the weight up from him, then back down, with little difficulty. You lick your lips as your eyes trail lower, somewhat wanting to see what you'd felt pressed against your heat earlier in his truck.

You know you had told him that you didn't mind him being softer, gentler, but the fact that he plays football, drives a big truck, and works out...it's all definitely a turn-on.

After a number of reps—you'd not bothered keeping count of just how many, you were otherwise occupied—Nate sits up, only glancing to you before starting with the leg lift next. And your eyes once again trail from his abdomen, all the way down to his muscled legs, dark hair littering both.

You feel warm, especially between your thighs. God, you can't believe he's all yours.

Who cares if he wants to blow large loads of money on you and dress you up occasionally if you get to watch him do this sometimes.

Once he's finished, you sit up straighter as he walks over to you. You look up at him.

"Sorry if that was a bit boring."

He knows you liked it. Can tell from how intently you had watched him, the obvious warmth of your cheeks.

You shake your head. "It wasn't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper you're so turned on.

He grips your chin, running his thumb alonger your lower lip. "No?"

You lightly shake your head.

"You liked it?" He pretends to feign mild suprise.

You nod.

He studies you for a moment. Then, he leans down toward you, forcing you to lay back on the bed.

He reaches between your legs and you gasp in surprise as he runs two fingers along your soaking wet folds. "That much, huh?"

You nod, then spread your legs wider, reaching down to the hem of his t-shirt, quickly removing it, leaving yourself completely naked before him.

A silent plea for him to do something—anything—to relieve that pulse going between your legs now.

He rubs his thumb over your clit and you smile, reching up to grip his broad shoulders.

"Did that feel good?"

You nod. "Y-yes."

He looks down at your pussy. "So wet for me, aren't you, baby?"

You spread your legs wider, the backs of your thighs now resting flat on the mattress they can't be parted any further.

And all Nate can think is how needy you fucking are. And he loves it. How easily wet you get for him, how you're already so willing to let him touch and taste and tease you. How you so easily hand over control of your body to him.

He presses a kiss to your lips for just a moment before pulling away, rubbing his thumb over your clit again.

"Mm, Nate..."

He smirks as you close your eyes, expecting him to give you yet another orgasm today.

Finally, he steps away, shutting the bathroom door behind him, the shower turning on.

Your eyes pop open and you shoot up in bed, bringing your legs back together, wondering why the hell he'd left.

Nate takes his time showering, hoping you're lying on the bed sexually frustrated from his teasing you, something he plans to do a great deal more of in-time.

He knows how powerful of a weapon sex can be, and with your experience being null...he never had that kind of upper-hand before. He's beyond elated that he does now.

He'd known Maddy had been lying when they fucked for the first time. When he had pulled out of her and there's been no blood, when she'd clearly known what the hell she was doing. But, because she'd been something warm and tight to stick his cock into, he'd resigned himself to not having a virgin like he wanted.

But you? You don't stand a chance against his sexual prowess.

Once he's showered and has also shaved, he jacks off thinking about the things he's done to you so far, but even more-so the things to come.

When he finishes, it's with cum shooting out, onto his hand, on the dark shower walls. Finally he feels some small form of release.

It's beyond fucking difficult maintaining control when it comes to being intimate with you, but he has a plan and knows he has to—must—stick to it. It's imperative that your first time with him is full of emotion and love and passion.

Because once the two of you have shared that moment?

His hooks in you will be permanently set.

Once Nate had showered, you'd not said anything about his teasing you. In reality, you kind of liked it... You knew he was being a flirt by doing it, if not also a bit of an ass, but for some reason all of that turned you on all the more.

The build-up to something else.

The two of you lied down on his bed for awhile, you naked, pressed into his side, one of your legs twined around his own while while some cheesy romance movie played—something he'd put on, thinking you would like it.

But you couldn't focus on that. Instead, all you could think about was how good this feels. This level of comfort and warmth and trust with someone to be with them like this. Naked in his bed, one of his arms around you, fingertips brushing against your hip, his other bent behind his head.

You think how lucky you are to have him. He's smart, handsome, sweet, so, so kind and giving and selfless, mature, determined...the list goes on.

He moves his hand up, his fingers working themselves against your scalp and you close your eyes, falling asleep listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.

You're woken by Nate planting featherlight kisses against your cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, lips. Your eyes flutter open and you wrap your arms around his neck, stretching, arching your back. You smile up at him through drowsy eyes. "Hi."

You crane your neck up to kiss him and he melts into you. Literally melts.

Your softness, your graceful femininity, your love and desire for him and only him.

He pulls away for a moment, your gentle fingertips touching his lips as you look into his eyes.

"Time to get up and let me get you ready, angel."

"What if we stayed here in your bed?" You ask, your voice light and dreamy.

And fuck him if he doesn't consider it for a moment.

He shakes his head, then. He needs to get you drunk tonight.

"Sit up for me, sweetheart."

You keep your arms around his neck as he pulls you up with him, yawning as he disentangles himself from you, then takes your hand in his, leading your naked form into the bathroom as he turns on the shower.

Once he's washed you, the two of you go through the same rendition as that morning. And due to your still feeling sleepy, you let him do as he pleases as he brushes out your still-straight hair, forgoing any accessories. He then leads you back into his bedroom, seating you on his mattress as he goes through the bag he'd packed for you. He'd found a comely black dress in your closet that he'd actually been surprised you even owned, it showed so much skin. Well, a lot for you, at least.

But it'd also been shoved into the back, so it clearly was not a favorite of yours.

You raise your arms as he slips the soft black dress over your naked form. He admires it on you for a moment—it's a mini dress, with a plunging neckline, the sides cut out, leaving your sides bare, but against your back is a large bow.

He doesn't consider putting a choker back on you, wanting anyone who looks at you tonight to see the mark he'd put on your body, branding you as his property.

He then kneels down, slipping a black pair of pumps onto your feet which are covered in a pleasant floral pattern, small bows on each.

He then stands, heading over to his closet and throwing on a t-shirt and jeans, and a pair of clean socks and tennis shoes, shrugging on a zip-up hoodie before offering you his hand.

A small smile plays on Nate's lips the entire way over to the party. This afternoon had been so perfect. You naked in his bed, asleep in his arms, then sitting there contently—silently—while he readied you, dressing you up as he pleased. And now here you sit in the passenger side, entertaining yourself with his right hand resting in your lap, holding one of your own while your other traces idle shapes along his veins and skin.

As he slows for a traffic light, he glances at you, how beautiful you look. And all he can think is how much he loves you.

"Are you happy, baby?"

You look up at him, smile, then nod. "Yes."

The light turns green and he looks back to the road before the both of you.

Once Nate has parked, you feel your pulse rising under your skin. Flashing lights, and loud, thumping music come from the two-story house before you, numerous people coming in and out, milling around outside, drinks in-hand.

Once Nate has come around and unbuckled you, you stay seated. "There's a lot of people here."

He just looks at you, waiting for you to continue. "I...I get anxious in crowds."

He takes your hand in his, helping you down. "Just stay close to me, then, sweetheart."

You twine your fingers securely between his, your other arm coming up to wrap around his own and you press your body as close as you can into his side as you enter the strange domicile you've never been to before.

And Nate eats it up—you clinging to him so closely, afraid of being parted from his side—and he feels both a sense of satisfaction, as well as jealousy, if not also possessiveness, as young men's eyes trail along your young body. All of them want what they'll never have. You belong to him now.

He glances down at you and you're already looking up at him, completely oblivious to the men practically lapping at you with their tongues.

He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head, then leads you further into the house, the music growing so loud you can feel the bass in your chest, intermixing with the wild beat of your heart.

Nate's eyes dart this way and that, looking for possible familiar faces—not because he wants to spend any amount of time with anyone but you tonight—but because he wants the word to spread like wildfire that you're already wrapped around his finger already. Completely devoted to him.

When he spots the kitchen, he leads you in that direction, honing in on the plethora of alcoholic drinks sitting out on the counter.

He releases your hand for a moment, your body pressing impossibly closer to his own, as he looks over the bottles, searching for something good to start you out with. Something sweet and sugary to get you drunk on before he has you start downing hard liquor to keep you that way for the rest of the night.

His goal is to get you drunk enough that you black out and forget what he has planned this evening.

He spots a bottle of sparkling cider and picks it up, pouring some into a solo cup, placing it in your small delicate hands.

"I-I don't drink!" You practially have to scream at him over the music.

His brows furrow, acting like he has no idea what you've said. He leans down, placing his ear close to those pretty lips that he'd put some pink lipgloss on before leaving.

"I don't drink, Nate."

He places his lips against your ear, his hand gripping your hip in silent encouragement. "Just try it, you might like it."

You look at him for a moment, then finally take a sip. And your eyes widen in interest before taking another one. He bites back a satisfied smirk.

"Do you like it?"

You nod your head fervently and he can't help but think how utterly fucking adorable you look.

He takes your cup, filling it nearly to the brim with the orange substance.

He, himself, grabs a bottle of Budweiser before leading you further into the house, seating himself on a couch before pulling you into his lap, one of his hands coming to rest firmly between your legs under your dress.

He takes a sip of his beer, then watches as you take another sip and then another from your cup. He reaches up, tipping it forward, forcing you to down a third of it in one go. Finally, he drops his hand, picking up his beer again and laughs playfully when you look at him, shaking your head with a smile.

By the time you've reached the bottom of your cup, you're already drunk. Your head feels light, like it's spinning. You lean back against Nate, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Did you finish it?"

You merely nod, a giggle escaping your lips.

"Want me to get you another one?"

You sit up straighter, then turn to look at him and burst out laughing.

He can't keep himself from smiling at you.

"Is that a yes?"

You nod, scrunching your nose up adorably before throwing your arms around his neck, pressing a firm wet kiss to his cheek, then kissing his lips. He notes that you taste pleasantly of apples.

You stumble alongside Nate as he pulls you into the kitchen, filling your cup again and you don't notice, as you go to take a sip, that he once again puts his index finger under the base, holding it in-place until half the cup is drained.

He glances behind you, seeing Maddy across the room, wearing some revealing purple dress that nearly shows her ass, Kat at her side.

He watches them as they watch you, Maddy leaning over to Kat, saying something to her, which he can't quite make out.

He thinks, if he's read her lips correctly, she said 'what the fuck did he do to her?'.

He looks down at you, cupping one of your cheeks in his hand. "Do you want to dance?"

"What?" You giggle again, hugging him affectionately.

When you pull away he repeats himself.

"Do you?" You ask, your words slurred.

He doesn't answer before grabbing your hand, leading you into the middle of the living room, pulling your body against his. He grabs your hips, shaking them this way then that, one of your arms slung over his shoulder, the other occasionally lifting your drink to your lips.

He then sees Cassie, who's been watching the two of you for God knows how long, so he leans down, pressing a long, passionate kiss to your lips, adding in plenty of tongue.

You moan against him and he has half-a-mind to reach into your panties, wondering if all the alcohol has gone where he hopes it has.

He refrains. He won't humiliate or disrespect you like that. Not in front of a crowd.

He moves his lips down to your neck and you throw your head back. He moves one of his hands under the cut-out side of your dress, under your panties beneath, gripping one of your ass cheeks. The other comes up to caress the back of your head as he begins kissing your neck, sucking on that purple bruise, keeping it firmly in-place.

He licks your neck when he sees Cassie finally walk away, chugging her beer.

Nate pulls back, looking down at you.

You smile up at him. "I feel so-" you laugh. "So good." you giggle a few times. "I want you so bad."

He raises a brow. "Is that so?"

"Mhm." You reply, kissing him.

He puts his lips right up against your ear. "I bet if I checked them, your panties are fucking soaked right now. Aren't they?"

He feels you nod and blood fills his cock.

"You wet for me, baby?"

You nod again. "Yes," you say breathily.

His fingers tangle in the hair at the back of your head, gently yanking your head back, and he devours your neck. He wedges one of his legs between your thighs, moving his lips back to your ear. "There you go, angel. Take what you need."

You grind against him and whimper.

He presses his lips against your own, teasing you with his tongue.

Your kissing grows sloppy, uncoordinated, your hips bucking randomly against him.

He pulls away and you pout. He pulls you back into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels before holding it against your lips. "Try this one, sweetheart."

You don't argue, you just drink, the whiskey dripping down between your breasts, which he quickly cleans with his tongue. You giggle. "Stop it," you say between laughs.

He holds the bottle to your lips again and doesn't stop until you've drunk more than a sufficient amount.

You tug against his shirt then and he gives you his ear. "I have to-" You laugh. "Have to potty."

He holds you against his side as he goes in search of the bathroom, hoping you can hold it and that you haven't broken that tab just yet.

He finally finds it at the end of a hall. He knocks once, twice, then opens the door, finding it empty.

You stumble inside.

"Can you go on your own?" He does not fucking want to have to wipe you, but will look after you if that's what needs done.

You nod your head, slamming the door in his face.

He leans back against a wall, waiting for you. And rolls his eyes when Cassie comes to rest back against the wall opposite him.

She takes a swig of her beer—because of course she's drinking beer—at least you like the sweet stuff, which he thinks certainly fitting for you—before crossing her arms over her ample chest.

He only gives her a bored glance before leaning his head back, taking a drink of his Budweiser.

"What does she have that I don't?"

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters while staring up at the ceiling before looking at her. "Are you serious right now?"

She shrugs dramatically, her eyes widening. "You never had any interest in her before. Didn't you call her 'fucking boring' one time?"

He shakes his head. "Doesn't fucking matter what I said before, Cassie. I'm with her now. End of story."

She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "She's not even your fucking type!"

He laughs, mockingly. He licks his lips, glancing away, then back to her. "You have no idea what my type even is."

"I thought it was me..." She mumbles.

He raises a brow. "Are you fucking slow or something? Alright, fine. You want to know what she has that you don't?

She nods her head dramatically. "Yeah, I do. Because it sure as hell isn't looks, or-"

His fuse is near-gone by now. "She came to me a fucking virgin, for one. I sure as shit couldn't have said the same for you."

She flinches.

"Do you know how humiliating it was to be with you? The way you acted sometimes-" He rubs his thumb against his brow, lowering that hand back down to his side. "You were nothing more than a greedy whore looking for attention, and that still hasn't changed even now. It's why you're trying to make a scene in the middle of a party in front of all our peers. I mean," he holds out his hands, palms face-up before her. "What did you really hope to accomplish with this?" He relaxes one of his arms back down to his side again, the other holding his beer to his lips for a quick drink.

"Look at the fucking way you're dressed for one. You might as well have walked in here naked-"

"Look at the way she's dressed!"

"I know exactly what she's wearing because I put it on her!"

Hurt flashes across her features, remembering when he had once done that for her.

"So, is that it, then, you just needed a new doll to play with?"

He leans back, lightly banging the back of his head against the wall. "You don't fucking get it."

"Then explain it to me, since I'm so ignorant."

He looks at her again. "She's everything I've ever wanted. You can't hope to hold a fucking candle to her. You, Cassie, you were just a toy for me to fuck when I had nothing better to do. You're the girl you brag to your buddies about making another notch in your belt for. She's the girl you marry and provide a life for."

Her lip trembles.

He shakes his head. "Even then, I don't brag about you because I'm fucking ashamed I was ever even with you. I'm probably lucky I didn't catch something, since half the guys around here have rode you like a goddamn Greyhound."

She explodes then. "Fuck you, Nate! I gave you fucking everything! I bent over backwards for you—to be perfect for you. I blew up my life for you! I thought we were in love and that...that we'd have forever together and...so what? What is it, then? Do you love her now?"

He throws his bottle at the wall, no more than half a foot from her head, causing her to jump in fear as it shatters, alcohol spraying on her. "Yes, Cassie, I fucking love her!"

Right as he screams it in her face, you open the bathroom door, hearing every word.

Both their heads jerk in your direction and you glance from Cassie to Nate, back to Cassie, before finally settling on Nate again. You let out a quiet sob. "I can't get them back on, I keep falling over."

He looks down, and sees your panties around your ankles. He suddenly softens then. "Oh, baby, c'mere."

He kneels down, grabbing your hand and placing it firmly on his shoulder. "Lift your leg for me sweetheart."

You do, head spinning as he slips one foot free. "Now the other side, angel."

Cassie watches, heart breaking at how gentle he is with you. The sweet names he calls you—something he'd never done for her. She was, at the most, Cass.

Finally, he stands, pocketing your lacy black panties.

You lean back against the wall to steady yourself, and he cups both of your cheeks in his hands and all she can do is stare at the two of you. At the look in his eyes—seeing that it's true; they're filled with love and devotion and care.

"Did you go?" He asks, his tone gentle, but concerned.

You nod.

He brushes a thumb over your lips. "Did you wipe, sweetheart?"

You nod again.

He presses a firm, yet soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before wrapping one of his arms around you, holding you close to his side, not sparing Cassie another glance as he tells you "Let's go get you another drink."

Cassie slams the bathroom door behind her, unable to think of anything else but how, if that had been her, he wouldn't have waited for her, wouldn't have helped, or tended to her. Would've most likely started a fight with her over how she was embarrassing him. How she was being a trashy slut.

What the fuck was so different about you?

Once Nate has gotten you so drunk that you can't even stand up on your own, he has to carry you back to his truck bridal-style. His jacket is draped over you to keep you warm, your face pressed against his neck while one of your hands grips his t-shirt for dear life.

He quickly unlocks the truck, his keys held firmly in one of his hands underneath you, and he lowers you into your seat, carefully buckling you in. He gently shuts the door, coming around to the driver's side. Once he's buckled in as well, he locks both doors, making sure you don't do something stupid in your stupor, like try and open it.

You lean your head back against the seat, holding his jacket over you.

"So dizzy..."

He turns the heat on. "Just close your eyes, baby. We'll be home soon."

You do, wishing the world would just slow down.

Once Nate has gotten you home, he carries you inside, and when he sets you down in the foyer, you slam back against the wall, back to giggling again.

He tries to shoosh you, holding a finger up to your lips, but you gently pull it down, trying to instead shove it under your dress.

He shakes his head. "Are you going to be a naughty girl tonight, then?"

You shrug, but barely, your limbs not entirely cooperating.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours and you giggle yet again and his hand grips one of your inner-thighs.

He pulls back a little, glancing down the hall, then to you. "Do you want to go swimming?"

You nod enthusiatically, then immediately regret it as you press your forehead against his chest, willing the dizziness away. "Nooooo..."

"So you do or don't?"

"Swim mmm."

He takes that as a yes.

He leads you that way, you nearly falling on your ass halfway down the hall, but he drags you along, despite your stumbling. He grabs a couple beers from the fridge, intending on giving one to you outside.

Once you're in the backyard, he picks you up, slinging you over his shoulder. "Oooh noooo."

"Oh yes," he replies.

Your head slumps, bobbing with every step he takes, until he finally sets you down on a pool chair.

He hands a bottle of beer to you and you can't quite figure out the twist top, so he takes it from you, opening it, then handing it back. He watches in satisfaction as you take a long drink, licking your pretty pink lips.

He kneels down, not even buzzed and reaches his hand between your legs.

You hum with pleasure, closing your eyes.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

Your eyes pop open.

"Do you want to go skinny dipping?"

You nod.

He helps you out of your heels and then your dress, tossing the latter onto the chair you'd previously occupied.

He grips the back of his shirt, pulling it off, then toes off his shoes and socks before he reaches down, unbuckling his belt, and unzipping and unbuttoning his jeans before he pulls them, along with his briefs, off in one motion. You barely get a chance to look over his naked form before he walks the both of you over to the pool. He seats you on the side, your legs dangling in the warm water as he slips in.

He grips your hips, easing you in as well, wrapping your legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and his own arms around you to ensure you don't drown.

You gently lie your cheek against his shoulder, the only sounds to fill the night being the lapping of water, crickets and frogs, and the pool filter humming under the water.

"I love you," he whispers, knowing you won't remember any of this.

"Mmm," is all the reply you can manage, your body shaking with a small laugh.

"You're all mine. Every part of you."

You stay silent, enjoying the bouyant feeling of weightlessness and the warmth of him.

"Can you tell me that, angel? That you belong to me?"

"I..." you giggle. "I belong to youuu."

He hums his approval.

"I'm going to take your virginity tomorrow," he says, tone relaxed.

"Okaaay."

He smirks. You have no idea what he's even saying.

"And when I do, you're mine. Forever."

You only wrap your arms tighter around his neck. "Juuust get the home-" you snicker. "Homework done, 'kay?"

He doesn't say anything as he wades the two of you arond the pool. His studious little angel.

You yawn and he knows it's time to get out then.

You take his hand as the two of you exit the pool. Nate grabs some towels out of a nearby bin, but you laugh when he comes to stand in front of you. He fills with seething fucking rage when he sees that you're looking at his cock when you do it.

"What's so funny?" He asks, hands in fists at his sides.

"I've n-never seen one. In-" You cackle. "real life. It's so-"

If you're about to insult him, he knows he'll snap and do something he'll later regret.

"So preeetty."

All the tension releases from his body. Not quite what he'd been expecting, but he'll take it.

You look up to him with a drunken smile. "I l-like it."

He smirks. "Do you want to touch my cock, sweetheart?"

You nod.

He takes one of your hands in his, wrapping it around his member, which quickly grows harder in your grip.

"Feels funny."

"How?"

"Soft. Like vel-Velveeta."

He knows you mean velvet.

Your strokes are sloppy, unsure. He knows that you have no idea what the fuck you're doing, but it only turns him on all the more.

Just as he begins to consider asking you to get on your knees, he looks toward the house and immediately loses his erection when he sees his dad watching the both of you.

You frown. "What...w-what happened?"

You look up to him.

"You're exhausted. Time for bed."

You hang your head as he wraps your naked body in a towel. "Noooo..."

"Yes, c'mon," he says, taking your hand, grabbing your clothes and his in the other, slipping his shoes back on, handing you yours.

Once the two of you have taken a shower—Nate not wanting his sheets to stink like chlorine—he puts you to bed, lying down beside you, still naked.

Before you fall off to sleep, however, he reaches over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand.

He hopes to God you're not too drunken to answer his next question. "What's the pin for your phone?"

It takes a few tries and a lot of laughing, but you finally give him the four-digit code, which he immediately commits to memory.

And then you drift off to sleep, once again firmly against his chest, feeling safe and happy.

Meanwhile, Nate goes through every single app on your device. He's glad to see you have no social media, minus Pinterest and Letterboxd accounts, neither of which have any messages on them. He browses through your emails, finding nothing of interest.

He next checks your gallery, searching for nudes he's sure he won't find, even checking for hidden folders.

He finds naught.

Finally, after browsing your texts—you only having threads with him, your dad—which you haven't texted with in hardly three weeks, and Lexi—who you left on read Friday when she texted you asking 'what the hell is going on with you and Nate?'—he briefly considers blocking her number, but knows that decision, that action, needs to come from you—he installs an app for tracking your location, syncs it to the very same app on his own phone, and then hides it.

He makes it so that, unless you go into your settings looking through your app list, you'll never find it.

He tells himself that he's only doing it to keep you safe. But he also knows that if he ever catches you with someone else, he'll fucking kill him.

You wake before dawn with an extreme feeling of nausea. You practically jump out of bed—head pounding—and race to the toilet, barely making it as you kneel before it, vomiting up the contents of your stomach.

Nate wakes as well, sitting up, heading toward the bathroom in a panic to take care of you, before remembering that he's naked. He grabs a pair of briefs from the floor, sitting on his bench press as he pulls them on. He comes into the bathroom then, kneeling beside you and pulling your hair out of your way as you continue to get sick.

Once your stomach has calmed, you close the lid, flushing, then lying your head down. "Oh God."

He smirks, running his hand along your naked back. "Hangover?"

"Don't ever, ever, ever let me drink again."

He stands, grabbing a clean washcloth and running it under some cool water before wringing it out and holding it against your forehead.

You merely hum your appreciation.

"I feel so horrible."

"It usually goes down a lot easier than when it comes back up."

You groan.

He presses a kiss to your hair. "Are you cold or hot?"

"Both. My body is freezing."

He stands, grabbing a spare blanket from the foot of his bed, then returning to the bathroom, wrapping you up in it.

"Thank you," you mumble.

And then the feeling hits you again, so you throw the toilet lid open and vomit once more.

It's almost an hour later before you feel confident enough that, if you go back to bed, you won't get sick all over it. Nate puts a trash can on your side anyway.

He'd gone down and gotten you water, a bottle of Gatorade, and some crackers before coming back up and setting them on the table on your side of the bed.

He likes that you now have a side.

While you lie there, facing away from him and instead toward the side that the trash can is on, he also lays on his side, rubbing your back.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For?"

"Embarrassing you, probably."

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"I don't remember most of it."

His hand stills, but only for a moment. So it worked, he thinks, a sick sense of satisfaction filling him.

"What's the last thing you do?"

You close your eyes. "It's like there's holes in my memory. I remember dancing. I think I went pee. I think...I think I went pee and Cassie was in the bathroom with me?" You pause for a moment and sigh. "I think you carried me to your truck. Did we swim?"

A muscle in his jaw feathers. "Just for a little bit. Then we came up and watched a movie until you fell asleep on my chest."

You hum in response. "Was it The Princess Bride? I think I remember."

He's glad you do, because he sure as hell doesn't, since it never happened. "It was."

"Oh."

You're quiet for a moment, then, "Have you ever been drunk?"

He nods. "A few times. I try not to make a habit of it."

You moan. "That's smart. Smarter than me."

He chuckles. "First time for everything. Including get wasted. Honestly, it's more on me than it is you. You've never drank before and don't know your own limits. I should've cut you off a lot earlier."

You press your face into the soft pillow under your head. "That's a lifetime achievement I could've lived without. But it's not your fault."

You lie your cheek against the pillow then. "How long until I feel better?"

He shrugs. "A few hours, better part of a day. Just depends how long it takes to work its way out of your system."

You take a sip of your Gatorade and chew on a cracker. Once you've swallowed you lie back down.

"Just close your eyes and try and get some sleep, angel."

You nod against the pillow. "Goodnight."

He presses a kiss to the back of your head, curling his body around yours, pulling you back against him. "Goodnight," he replies, even if it's now morning.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x reader #euphoria x you #i'm so mean to cassie i'm so sorry lmao #i prommy i don't hate her #she's just another one of nate's victims & someone who deserves sm better than the hand she was dealt #lana really went off with 'this is what makes us girls' huh

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choccorin · 2 months

Text

lovers quarrel

tags. hurt / comfort, sakura haruka x gn!reader

you've been ignoring sakura because of the argument you both had two days ago. he missed out on your date, again. this is the third time this happened in your relationship of 5 months, sure, it wasn't a big deal but for you it is.

the two of you are busy students, he's busy at furin and you're busy with your school works. you can rarely hangout these days due to it being exam season, both of your schedules were packed.

you were so excited that day, you waited at the cafe you both planned to meet at but after two hours, he still didn't show up. you tried calling him, no answer, you tried contacting his friends, also no response. you went home after waiting for three hours, you felt embarrassed because the staff kept checking up on you, so you just left.

you understand that he has things to take care of back at furin but can't he make some time for you, even just a day? you're both still new to relationships, in fact, this is your and his first relationship. you start doubting yourself if getting into one was a good idea, you love him — you're sure of that. and he loves you too, but can the both of you maintain a relationship with little to no experience?

these questions cloud your mind while you're walking back to your apartment, you halt when you see him outside, standing and looking down, he's drenched in the rain. what is he doing here, you ask yourself. don't tell me he's walked here, in this weather?!

“sakura .. ” you call out to him

he lifts his head and looks at you, his eyes are glimmering with hope. he looks tired, the dark circles forming under his eyes say so. are you the reason for them?

you hesitantly walk towards him, “why did you walk here while it's raining? idiot.” you mumble that last word, looking away from his gaze.

“ah, s-sorry.. i was in a hurry to talk to you.. ” his voice is trembling — he sounds like he's about to burst into tears.

you sigh, “ get in first. ”, you unlock your door, letting him in.

“i'll bring a towel, wait here. ”

“(y/n), can we please talk? .. please.” he's pleading you, you've never heard him like this before.

you stop walking, only glancing at him from behind since you're still upset with him.

“fine, talk.” your voice sounds cold and sakura doesn't like that.

“listen. i .. ”, he breathes in, “i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bail on you, it was just that a lot of things happened like a gang was threatening to hurt the town an-”

“just forget it, what's done is done.”

“but i-”

“there's no point in apologizing, sakura!” you wince, that came out harsher than you expected.

the silence in the room felt like a heavy weight crushing you, almost suffocating. both of you were just standing there — waiting for the other person to speak up, but there was nothing. only the sound of the rain .. and sniffles.

he's crying.

you turn around to face him, he's looking down but you can tell he's crying his heart out. his shoulders and hands were trembling, you felt guilty yelling at him.

“haruka, i'm sorry! i was just upset and-” you scramble your words, trying to explain your side to make him stop crying but he cuts you off.

“no. you're right, there's point in apologizing. it's my fault for missing another date and i .. i know i mess up a lot but just please, please don't leave me.” he holds your hands, tears streaming down his face, “i can't go on without you, you've made me the happiest guy in the world in just a few months and-”

you pull him into you, hugging him as tightly and gently as you can, “i'm not leaving you, you idiot. why would you think that.. ”, your voice is shaking, you were crying now too.

he hugs you back, “please don't let me go .. ” sakura mumbles against your neck, hugging you tighter — afraid that you'll let him go.

you kiss his forehead, holding him tighter against you — not caring about his drenched clothes, “i won't hakura, i promise. ”.

both of you stay like this for a couple of minutes, melting in each others hold. but your mind snaps out of it when you feel your clothes getting wet, you wipe your tears away. telling him that he needs to change or else he'll catch a cold, you full him into your bathroom, ignoring his protests, and leave him there to get new clothes, a t-shirt and short that the left at your place just in case.

you tell him that once he gets changed, both of you will talk properly and fix this, even if you two have little to no experience in relationships.

n. this is so bad but i needed to get something off my mind so here's this.

t. @kyoghurts, hi again, i hope u don't mind me posting another sakura fic >_<

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka #haruka sakura #sakura haruka x reader #haruka sakura x reader #sakura x reader #wind breaker headcanons #wind breaker fluff #🐈‍⬛ unorambles

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sparkling-ariaria · 1 year

Text

Marauders Era fics I read and want to keep...

*Complete fem or non-specific reader insert fics*Upd: 25.05.2023

Poor bunny by robynlilyblack - Remus x Reader Y/n doesn’t understand why her friends are lying to her every month, so on one full moon she follows them…

The girl with the books by solemnarration- Remus x Reader James and Sirius notice that it’s not the books that keep Remus in the library, and are determined to know whether you – the object of Remus’s affection – return his feelings.

Beautiful by acosmis-t - Remus x Reader Comforting insecure Remus.

The gist of it by yellow-berrys - Remus x Reader You’re meeting Remus’ mother for the first time, and it’s overwhelming for her how lovely the house is.

One where he teaches you how to play the Piano by proserpina-magnus - Regulus x Reader

From a distance by still-blue-sky - Regulus x Reader Reader has a major crush on the mysterious Regulus Black and has always observed him from a distance. She never thought that he would feel the same until proven otherwise late at night in the library.

A snake and his little bird by robynlilyblack - Regulus x Reader Y/n has been keeping her relationship with a certain Black brother secret, but when James starts investigating why she's always stealing the map she's in hot water.

Smart cookie by robynlilyblack - Sirius x shy!Reader Sirius needs a tutor for herbology and he happens to be granted the shiest girl in the world to help him, luckily, he happens to love that about her.

Dote on me by yellow-berries - modern!Sirius x Reader You are completely oblivious to the way Sirius black dotes on you, and think that the way you're infatuated with him is completely one-sided. But he begs to differ.

Dealbreaker by luveline - Sirius x Reader You work in a bookstore. Sirius keeps finding reasons to need books.

Forbidden words by padfootagain - Sirius x Reader You've been dating Sirius for a while now, and it's been going wonderfully well. However, when you finally confess that you love him, he find himself unable to say it back. It will take time for him to be ready to say these three forbidden words out loud, but if there's someone who can make him overcome his inner demons, it's you.

Pumpkin's father and your lover by justyoursimpleflower - Sirius x Reader Sirius and you find a kitten, apparently she is a matchmaker.

Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche by acosmis-t - Sirius x Reader

Sirius drabble by sxriusblxck - Sirius x Reader Cuddling with Sirius after a long day spent together.

Still pretty by upsidedownwithsteve - Sirius x Reader Drunk Sirius, something cute and fluffy.

Sirius visits you at work by magicchai - Sirius x Baker!Reader Sirius showing up with flowers for his girl at work when she's having a bad day.

I can't focus because I can't keep you out of my head. by perpetuallydaydreaming - James x Reader 5 times James got distracted because of you.

Gorgeous distraction by gtgbabie0 - James x Reader James trying his best to study while you distract him.

And I love her by dilf-lover99 - James x Reader The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.

You'll be in my heart by once-upon-an-imagine - James x Sister!Reader Hurt/comfort with James where a guy is making her very uncomfortable by hitting on her when James wasn’t there.

SB piece by familyvideostevie - grumpy!Sirius x sunshine!Reader Reader gets a phone call from Remus about her boyfriend moping away in a club.

E prometti domani a tutti parlerai di me by littlest-dark-age - Sirius x Reader Soft Sirius making a flower crown for his love.

Regulus dating someone from Hufflepuff by magicchai

Remus' remedy by magicchai - Remus x Reader Remus has the perfect remedy to fix his girlfriend’s migraines.

#marauders x reader #marauders x you #harry potter fic #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you

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bountydroid · 5 months

Text

Darlin' pt 6

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 7 (SMUT)

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.

Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(

Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.

"This damn sun," I whined.

Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop."

His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.

The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.

"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building.

The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me.

We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling.

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."

I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood.

Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."

Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."

Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"

Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand.

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."

Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground.

"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me.

I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest.

"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.

"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles.

"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."

Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?"

"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"

"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.

"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly.

"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella."

Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.

"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."

Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.

"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.

"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."

"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"

I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.

"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."

This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand.

"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp.

Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."

It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Jet fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up.

Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth.

"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?"

"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.

"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.

"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.

Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."

I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely.

As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.

"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.

As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.

"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.

Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.

"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."

He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy.

I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in.

"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.

"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me.

This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.

"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.

"Yes?" Someone responded.

"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."

"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.

The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.

"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.

"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.

Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.

I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.

Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"

"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.

Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.

"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move.

I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.

Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him.

I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile.

I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof.

"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground.

I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state.

After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side.

"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.

The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood.

"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.

"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us.

I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks.

"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials.

I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."

She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again.

He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?"

"What?" I asked him confused.

"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position.

"Well-" I start.

"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."

"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."

He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."

"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.

Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine.

I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.

Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #fallout

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babygirl-riley · 1 year

Text

Daddy’s Gonna Buy You a Mockingbird

When coming home Simon hears his daughter start to fuss.

Warnings: angst, mentions of childhood trauma, fluff, swearing, Dad!Simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon was fucking tired, the mission was long and difficult. It took them 4 months to plan the fucker just for the target to know their every move. He lost lots of men and women those nights, they had to camp somewhere in the middle of the desert cause transportation got fucked.

He unlocked the door of his home and walked in. Immediately he heard the whimpering. Simon heard you trying to lullaby both of your toddler. Simon was told that she has been sick for almost 4 days. It was teething that led to two ear infections. His poor angel was getting her ass jumped left and right with them infections.

He took his mask and boots off leaving them on the shelf near the door. He locked the door as he made his way through the hallway. When getting closer he heard you sniffling. “I don’t know what to do baby girl,” The toddler cried harder as you cried with her. “I am sorry. What do you need baby?”

Simon tapped the door making you jump. At first you thought you were going to fight but then relief came through. “Simon,” You started to sob. “Just take a shower and I will be there in minute.”

“I can take her.” He said walking fully in.

“No,” You wiped your tears quickly before shaking your head. “It’s fine you just got home. Please just take a shower love.”

Simon nodded, he didn’t want to but he could tell if he didn’t you would burst. He saw the dark circles under your eyes, how red your eyes were. You haven’t gotten any sleep. That tugged at his best strings, you have been dealing with this all by yourself so he wants to be able to help you.

Simon quickly got into the shower, washing all the paint, blood, sweat, and dirt from him. He waited for a moment before turning the faucet off and get out. He heard your sobs once more as he wrapped the towel around himself. Opening the door that showed you laying on your side curled up. Simon walked up to you and sat next to your body. He placed a hand on your hip rubbing circles.

“Not the best welcome home,” You sighed turning to face him. “Im sorry.”

“For what love? Taking care of our child? Don’t ever apologize for that.” He reassured, basically whispering.

“Just me crying and Im so fucking tried. She doesn’t sleep nothing longer than maybe 5 minutes before she is screaming. And I wanted to give you a warmer welcome and instead buzzed you off and…”

“Thats enough sweethear’ it has been a long week for you,” He got up to grab sweatpants and went around to his side to pull the blankets up and over him. You watched as he laid and scooted closer to you wrapping his arm around you. “Come ‘ere, get some sleep my dove.”

He doesn’t remember when you fell asleep or even him. Simon heard the soft whimpers start, you didn’t move and he was glad that you didn’t. He was also very happy that you moved out of his grasp while in your sleep. Simon carefully and quietly headed out of the room. Rubbing his tired eyes as he made it to his daughter’s room.

When he approached the room there she was. Standing up in her crib crying, once her eyes landed on his she cried harder. “Daddy.” She called a couple of times.

“Alright princess, you’re alright daddy’s here.” He said picking her up.

It took him a back of how hot she is, sweat gripping her pjs. Her crying increasing as she gripped onto his shoulder. “Shhh I know,” He said bouncing up and down. “I know baby.”

He felt her diaper and walked to the changing table, which to her was a sin. When he placed her down she screamed a bit, immediately he gently placed a palm on her chest. Putting small pressure. She stopped screaming as she still cried. His daughter loved when he did that when she wanted to be cuddled yet when he had to do certain things like this.

Because of how many times he has done this with her, he one handed did the diaper. He left her only in her diaper, get some air to her skin due to sweating and her being hot. As she still cried, he picked her up and lead out of the room walking to the kitchen. “Let’s try a warm bottle and me a tea yeah?” He said quietly, holding her close as she still cried.

While working on the bottle he rocked back and forth waiting for the teapot to heat up. He wrapped both of his arms around her holding her more close. “I’m ‘orry my birdie, teeth are arseholes. I know.”

She held around his neck placing her head down on his shoulder. Simon kept holding on until the smallest noise came from the pot. He didn’t want to wake you, he was even surprised you haven’t woke up yet. His daughter became more whimpering than crying.

He poured his mug first so the water could cool down just a bit more. Then poured water into her bottle. He made his tea before finish making her bottle. Afterward he walked to the living room and placed the tv on. Miss Rachel was her favorite to watch lately, that’s what you mentioned.

He placed her forward towards the tv as he placed his mug on the side table. Simon held her close to him as she drank her bottle. Rubbing her belly as he watched the show with her. He hated this woman, just found her annoying, you mentioned to him that it was her job to do that fake high pitch thing. To him it just made him want to mute it and never see it again.

His daughter leaned closer to him as he sipped his tea. She sniffled and hiccuped due to crying the whole time. He smoothed her thick blonde hair back, making her eyes roll. Another thing she gets from him. People massaging his scalp or play with his hair he would pass out from.

After three videos both Simon and her were laying on the couch. He had her on his chest with a blanket on both of them. “Shh I know,” He said as she started to whimper again. “Daddy is here, don’t worry. He will stay. I would do anythin’ for you not to be in this pain.”

She sucked on her binki her eyes rolling fighting sleep. Yet another thing she got from him. Fighting sleep. Simon remembered when you told him you were pregnant with her. He was terrified. Scared that he wouldn’t be good to her, that he would turn into his own father.

Simon actually left for hours from the house making you think that it was a bad idea to tell him. Until he came back in tears, first time you seen him break down. Telling you his fears and worries. You would comfort him and hold him that he has never been an ounce of his father. Never be like him.

Simon remembered when he asked for his dad to hold him. His dad told him to stop being a child, to grow up. Or even watch him cry in pain and laugh at the fact he was crying. He even remember Tommy being hit for even mentioning that his throat hurt. Telling him that is something to be crying about when he was hurt.

Because of those memories he was going on for months in his mind that he didn’t believed that, didn’t believe that he would be a good father, it wasn’t until she was born. When he held her in his big hands. He knew that this was the opportunity to not be his low life father. And yet here he was being not that, his father would have never been comforting him when he was sick. Holding him. Loving him. He was grateful to be able to be here for her. For you. To show the love and care that he wanted to.

Simon sighed as he felt her breathing slow down, falling into deep sleep. He settled more down into the couch as he closed his eyes, holding on to his princess.

You woke up with the sun beaming into the room. You groaned as you placed a hand to where Simon would have been. It was cold. You opened your eyes and frowned. Was a dream that he was home? You sighed getting up and heading to your daughter’s room. For it to be empty too.

You walked around the house figuring out where the hell was your daughter. Which when you heard Miss Rachel on the tv and two figures on the couch. It made your heart swell. You walked to around to face both your daughter clinging onto her father. Simon softly snoring and his daughter as well. You forget how similar they look.

The soft features of when they slept. Their hair. Their nose. You also noticed that she was just in her diaper and didn’t look sweaty. You inhaled deeply feeling a bit of relief. Hopefully that means that her temperature went down and back to normal.

You smiled thinking about the time where you were almost about to pop. Simon holding your tummy telling your daughter that he will protect her with every ounce of his being. Not matter where or what she is doing, he will be there. You would play with his hair as he rubbed your tummy, feeling her move every time he would place a hand on your tummy.

You grabbed both bottle and mug, walking back to the kitchen. “Definitely going to be a daddy’s girl.” You whispered, starting to make breakfast for your perfect family.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #daddy!simon #dad!simon

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gh0stsp1d3r · 7 months

Note

Hiii!! I was wondering if you could do a Luke x f.reader who is a daughter of Hephaestus and basically she’s jealous of the the Aphrodite girls and how Luke seems to take a liking to one of them, and so f.reader tries to change herself a bit to get Luke to notice her but instead one of Apollo son’s does and luke gets jealous. 🫣👀

𝒴ℴ𝓊’𝓇ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒽ℯ𝓇

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

I made this longer than it had to be. 😭 so sorry.

Warnings: jealousy, some angst

You watched him pass by. Your best friend, the boy you’ve had a crush on since you saw him at the camp years ago. When he was just a small, scared, confused little boy.

Usually, he would give you a smile and sit with you. Not today. He was talking with one of the other counselors, one of the Aphrodite girls.

The Aphrodite girls. Most of them were kind, loving. They were beautiful. And you were stuck forging swords, which you loved. But you felt a pang in your heart as you watched him sit down with her instead. She laughed with him about Gods know what.

You stared at them from afar, eating your food as your friends and siblings talked amongst themselves. You would get his attention again. You were determined to.

You watched over the younger campers, watching them as they hammered and drilled. Your arms were folded, calling out some people and helping them, correcting them.

“It’s good. But it’s dull. Make it less curved , and sharper.” You spoke when one of them handed you a sword they had made. You smiled at them and they nodded, wiping the sweat from their forehead and going back to their station.

“Hey.” Someone said from behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder making you jump slightly. You whipped around, your eyes meeting those brown ones that you knew too well.

“Hi.” You replied, swallowing the lump in your throat and turning back to the kids, facing away from him. The Aphrodite girl.

“Are you alright..?” He asked you, noticing how you seemed off.

“I’m fine.” You said simply, his hand left your shoulder and he frowned.

“I was just wondering if tomorrow you wanted to go to that party at the lake with me. Like… 6?”

You smiled to yourself, covering your face so he couldn’t see and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I’ll see you later.” He said, a small smile on his own face as he walked away.

Your sibling came up to you, a smirk on her face. “If you don’t just ask him out already…”

“Shut up.” You playfully hit her in the arm, rolling your eyes at the girl.

After watching the kids, you took a shower, and sighed as you flopped down onto your bed, tired from the day. It was dark out, and late.

You fell asleep quickly, and woke up to your sibling shouting something in your face.

“What? What’s wrong?” You grumbled, turning to the side and shutting your eyes again.

“Wake up! You’re gonna be late.”

“Late for what?”

“You’re checking the cabins today, with Luke, remember?”

“Oh. Shit,” you mumbled, sitting up and stretching. You got up, put on some baggier clothes when you had a thought.

That Aphrodite girl.

You would be with Luke for about an hour, why not try to make yourself look presentable? You thought.

You did your hair, brushed your teeth, then grabbing some moisturizer and putting it on your face. You put mascara on, even grabbed a thing of lip gloss, putting it in on and then in your pocket.

You changed your clothes, taking off your hoodie and putting your camp half blood shirt, which you were supposed to have on while checking the rooms.

You looked through your closet, and ended up with a pair of flared jeans instead of the baggy cargos you usually wore when you were with the kids at the work station. You put on a pair of boots that matched and you looked at yourself in a dirty mirror.

You shrugged, and left the cabin. You would be able to show off more, at the party.

You grabbed your clipboard and paper, going up to Luke now.

“You’re late. I already checked mines and Athena’s.”

“Oh yeah? Did yours get a 4 again?” You joked.

“No… we got a 5.” He said. “Which still isn’t good but…”

“That’s shocking.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed. He noticed something different about you. He looked closely at your face as you both walked to the other cabin.

“Are you… wearing mascara?” He said after realizing it. Your pants were different too. He noticed it all.

“Yeah… why?”

“Nothing. Just never seen you do that.” Something was wrong, he knew it. Something in his chest says that something was wrong. You’d told him once you don’t wear that much because your face gets dirty anyways, after forging and even just watching over them.

You shrugged and you both acted like nothing was wrong. Then after a while of checking it was time to head to the Aphrodite ones, the last cabin.

You tensed, and of course, Luke being the most observant, noticed when he looked at you. He put a hand on your shoulder, not knowing what was wrong but trying to bring some comfort anyways.

“Okay.” He breathed out, knocking on the door. All the Aphrodite girls were on their beds, waiting patiently. It was perfect, nothing spilled or a clutter.

The girl you saw Luke with yesterday waved to him. He waved back, giving a small smile. You tried to ignore the tears that started welling in your eyes.

Why were you so jealous?

“It’s a 10.” You spoke up, voice cracking slightly.

He nodded in agreement. You just left the cabin in a rush, you ignored everyone around you as you headed to your cabin.

Why couldn’t he look at you instead?

You took off your camp shirt, looking through your side in the closet once more. Nothing. There was nothing that could catch his attention in there. It was all dirtied, old, worn-out t-shirts. The party was soon.

"You need help?" Thank the Gods for your sisters.

They all got the best shirts they had. Crop tops, tank tops, baby tees, all of it. The boys ignored it, sitting on their beds and talking.

One that caught your eye was a pink cropped long sleeved shirt, it hugged your body when you put it on, showing your curves. The girls squealed when you came out, they all complimented you.

"I have the best mini skirt for that." One of them said, you quirked an eyebrow.

She handed it to you, and you went back into the bathroom.

"It's adorable!" she said.

It wasn't you, though. It didn't feel right. You just put on a smile as you headed outside.

"I'll kill him if he does anything." One of your brothers mumbled under his breath.

"Stop being overprotective, Alex." One of your siblings rolled her eyes.

It felt odd walking out like that, but you held your head high. Luke was going to walk past, thinking you were just one of the aphrodite girls until he saw your face.

"Y/N?" he asked, he was shocked.

"The one and only." You stopped walking, he stood in front of you.

"You look..."

You were nervous to hear his next words.

"different."

You just nodded. "It's a party, Castellan.

"Sorry. Just not used to it. Shall we go, madam?" he asked, faking a posh accent at the last sentence, his arm extended.

"We shall." You said with the same accent, smile on your face, locking your arm with his as you both walked to the lake.

About an hour or two later you were standing by the lake, your feet dipping into the water as you stared out. He had been talking with the Aphrodite girl again.

Why not you?

You didn’t hear the Apollo kid behind you until he sat next to you, two drinks in his hand.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hi.” Not turning to look at him.

“I was just over there, and I thought you were really… gorgeous.” He said, looking you up and down. “Would you want this?” He asked, handing you a drink. You hesitated but took it.

But he’s not Luke.

You turned now to give him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“What’s your name?”

You told him your name and he told you his.

“Oscar. After Oscar Wilde.” He said, a small laugh escaping him. You smiled and nodded.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

“I was with a friend but…” you shrugged.

It was soon that Luke had overheard a conversation with some of Oscar’s friends.

“Nah, he’s not here, he’s trying to take some girl to his cabin. Think her name is like, y/n? Some Hephaestus girl.”

Luke glanced over there when he heard that. You were talking with the boy. Oh he was going to kill this guy.

He walked over, fuming as he neared him.

“Luke?” You asked, furrowing an eyebrow as he walked over. Oscar turned around too now, his face flushed as he realized Luke was coming for him.

Luke grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, whispering something in his ear as you tried to get him off.

“Don’t ever come near her again.” Is what he said, dropping him onto the floor, he ran away and back to his friends. Everyone was watching you guys now.

“What?” Luke shouted to them. They quickly turned around.

“Luke, what the hell was that for?!”

“He was trying to…” he began to speak, his anger faded off once he saw the look on your face.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, not sure what else to say.

“Luke, what is wrong?” You asked him. “Did I do something?” Your voice cracked, your eyes welling up again. His own eyes were glossy now.

“No. You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why do you keep leaving me for that Aphrodite girl?”

The truth comes out. He stares at you, confused for a moment.

“Aphrodesia?”

You nodded.

“I… is that why you…?”

“Yes! Luke…”

“I was hanging out with her because I had no clue how to ask you out.” He said with his voice slightly raised, you stood there, feeling guilty.

“Oh.”

“She was telling me how to, giving me ideas. But now I see that I should have just asked.” His words were quiet now.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

“I’m sorry. And the reason for.. that whole thing.” He motioned to the party. “Was that I got jealous. I got jealous, and then I overheard some of his friends saying how he was planning on taking you back to his cabin.”

“I guess we both got jealous.” You said with a small laugh, he smiled and nodded.

“Can I still go out with you?”

You nodded with a smile. “I’d like that.”

—

“You did look gorgeous tonight.” He told you as he walked you back to your cabin. “But I like you no matter what you wear. You’re gorgeous either way.”

“Thank you.” You said, laughing. “It did feel kind of weird. I don’t think I like it.” You were now in front of your cabin, holding his hand in yours.

You both gazed into each others eyes, when he suddenly spoke up.

“Can I kiss you?”

You were shocked by his question. You didn’t answer and he began to apologize before you cut him off, crashing your lips into his. His hands went straight to your waist.

“You wanna know something?” He asked once your lips left his, voice a whisper.

“Hmm..?” You whispered back.

“You’re better than any of the Aphrodite kids.”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell x reader #pjo disney+#pjo #percy jackon and the olympians

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wasawattpadkid · 2 years

Text

Housewife

Part - 1

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"

"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.

Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.

With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'

The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.

The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"

A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."

"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.

"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.

"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."

You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."

"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.

"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"

Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"

He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.

"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"

Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.

"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."

"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."

"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.

You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.

Part 2

A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞

#scream #scream 1996 #ghostface #poly!ghostface #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #scream x reader #ghostface x reader #housewife #x reader #slashers #slasher x reader #horror

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 2 months

Text

Handle With Care - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Reader and Aaron meet for the first time before she starts as a full-time nanny for Jack.

Notes: Hopefully will be at least 5 parts! I'm excited to be writing again :)

Word Count: 4.6K

I always believed in new beginnings, but as I stood on Aaron’s doorstep, rolling a suitcase in one hand and a Vera Bradley duffel bag in the other, I was tempted to question my resolute thinking. It had yet to fail me. Not when I was hardly eighteen and living on the other side of the country, vying for my spot at the esteemed culinary arts program. And not when I’m twenty-four with a stint as the private chef

Professional chef turned nanny–for my father’s beloved mentee, no less. My parents, ever supportive and ever loving, practically held an intervention when I showed up on their suburban door step a fractured shell of the bubbly daughter they dropped off at the airport.

Five years later, I’m sleeping in the same bed. I had nightmares about leaving once again. And yesterday I gave up that bed for a full-time position as Aaron Hotchner’s live-in nanny. Aaron, who I never even met, is my father’s protege. He knew him as a whip-smart, young lawyer from a family Law dynasty at Quantico. My father took him under his wing and even after his early retirement from the BAU they would get together for an annual work lunch.

I was nearly finished with my final year of the Los Angeles Culinary Arts Program when my fathers called to say that Aaron’s wife was murdered. I remembered thinking how lucky Dad was and how brave Daddy had to be. With one day off saving the world and the other left to hold down the fort with an awfully anxious only child daughter.

One year later, I was unemployed and completely blacklisted from the culinary entertainment industry for reasons beyond my control and without my fault. I gripped the suitcase, my chipped fingernails so jagged they punctured my skin.

Aaron had a nice house with a manicured front lawn, a big wrap around porch, and a fully furnished backyard. Clearly, he was a man with a lot of education and a lot of smarts to top it off. He worked hard. It showed, these neighborhoods of Arlington, Virginia weren’t cheap. No wonder my dads were dying to relocate to Georgia.

The door swung open before I could work up the courage to ring the bell or knock on the dark cherry wood. Aaron answered. He wore a dark green men’s quarter zip that was pushed up, showing off his forearms. His dark, charcoal gray watch shone as he let me into his foyer.

He had a foyer.

And a house that smelt like warm cinnamon and musk.

“Y/N,” Aaron said, nodding to me with a smile, “Please give me your bags. And we’ll go sit and chat before Jack comes. His grandma is still in town and brought him to the zoo.”

I complied. There wasn’t a need for me to protest. And clearly, by the looks of those forearms, he would have no problem handling my bags. I only brought a single suitcase, a duffel, and five boxes of books. Aaron’s mother-in-law, Lorriane, had been staying with them since Haley died a year and a half ago. But her husband broke his hip. Apparently, Aaron had added a mother-in-law suite for Lorriane and judging by the looks of his home, the suite I’d be living in for the foreseeable future was twice the size of my studio in LA.

“Thanks.” I said, grabbing a seat on the brown fabric sofa, “My dad said I had to say hello to you for him. He still raves about you. Like all the time.” I chuckle, watching as Aaron hands me a glass of iced tea.

“Marty’s a good man. He and Gideon built the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Our team is in constant debt to him.” Aaron spoke so formally, gesturing for enthusiasm with his hands.

“Yeah, well. He’s always just been dad to me.” I smiled, the man I knew showed up to my field hockey games even if it meant holding office hours there. He was the most there dad I could ask for– maybe it was neck in neck for the both of them.

“So Jack?” I said, breaking the silence. “How–how’s he been?” I couldn’t help but wonder. My dads had a close friend who helped them with their surrogacy journey, so while I didn’t have a mother in the traditional sense, the woman who I’ m half of was still alive and in my life. Debra was more like an aunt to me, fun and spirited and eternally youthful. But I still had her.

Unlike Jack, who’s Earthly ties to his mother were shredded in an horribly violent way.

My dad hardly ever cried, but when he called and told me that Aaron’s wife died I could hear it in his raw voice. Aaron’s a man cut from the same cloth a Dad; stoic and responsible. He was a wall of somber trepidation, but somewhere deep inside I could make out the man that wasn’t cataclysmically destroyed.

“Jack is…he’s a strong kid. I put him in therapy after it happened. He still goes once a week. Laura, she’s his therapist. She’s wonderful. Truly has helped Jack work through all this.”

“That’s good. That’s really good, Mr. Hotchner. It seems as though Jack has a solid foundation here.” I say, unsure what to say exactly. I can make an omelet six different ways, yet it’s lost on me to know what to say to a widower with a little boy. If I had to bear even a fraction of their grief, I’m sure it would break me. I would crumble. But these two boys? They’re a good man in the storm. And I know in my bones, it’s entirely Aaron’s doing. If that man is anything, he’s steady.

“It’s Aaron. Please, Mr. Hotchner reminds me of my father.” He cringes, the lines on his eyes creasing, “Your dad said you’re a professionally trained chef? Unfortunately, Jack’s still squarely in the dinosaur shaped chicken nugget and baked tater tots phase. It’s been a struggle to get him to try anything new…for…for awhile now, if I’m being honest.”

I nod, thinking that Jack’s food discouragement might stem from losing his mom. “Well, the way I see it, Jack lost his mom at how old? Four and half? That’s when we’re starting to really know what we like and don’t like to eat. His life was turned upside down and shaken all around when you lost her. So maybe he needed some consistency in a world of chaos. Not that your home is chaotic, it’s lovely and clean and happy. It’s just…loss…”

“Losing your mother as a toddler really fucks up your life.” Aaron says. He speaks so definitely, as if he means everything so ardently you could cast it into stone.

“Yeah.” I add, somberly. “But I think we can get him to branch out. Make it a game. I’d love to cook with him. I can get him kid-safe tools so he can be involved in food preparation and cooking. Oh! Maybe Jack and I can have a garden. I’m sure that will get him eating vegetables and fruits.”

Aaron’s neutral expression slowly transitions to a soft smile. He thumps his fingers on the wooden table, as he looks out through the deck. I could feel him glance back at me and then to the yard again.

“I think that a garden would be lovely over on the side. It’s far enough away from the pool and patio.” Aaron offers, sipping his tea. It’s sweet tea, too sweet for me. Working in kitchens throughout my program has trained me to not only tolerate black coffee, but to actively seek it out. He smiles, his grin defining his face. “Good idea.”

I feel heat at his praise. I like doing well, who doesn't? But after a series of mishaps and bad luck, an 'atta' girl is my Hail Mary of the month. I simply nod. “Simple things to start so he can see some quick results. I’ll get him super involved in it. Make him feel like he’s a part of a team.”

“I work a lot. My team flies across the nation, as you know. It takes me away from here for days on end. It was getting too much for Lorriane. And how her husband broke his hip.” Aaron shakes his head, “Honestly, you couldn’t have shown up here at a better time.”

He runs his pointer finger over the water rung pooled on the coasters. “Jack’s a very easy kid. Reasonable. But shy. He was shy even before Haley…even before last year. I’ve brought him to the pediatrician because he stopped talking for a while, but she said that we’ve all survived an immense trauma and our brains simply process and live through that trauma differently.”

Sitting there, I couldn’t help but think how lucky this little boy is. His dad was running up the hill; pushing that boulder up and up and up for an eternity. It must be an awfully lot to carry, without anyone to share the load.

“Yeah. I’m sure it is? Is he going into Kindergarten after the summer?” I ask, wondering if Jack went to Kindergarten on time or if Aaron and his grandma kept him home when they lost Haley.

“Lori, Haley’s mother, taught preschool for thirty-five years. She told me to keep him home for a year, let him be a little bit older and get the help he needs to heal and then send him. So I listened. I think that was one of the only decisions I made as a team this year.”

Sympathy must have colored my face because Aaron’s demeanor shifted quickly. He sat up, sipping his iced tea and wiping his hands on his jeans. “So basically your weekdays are around 8am-7:30pm. And occasionally on the weekends when the team does have to be on location But recently, I’ve been trying to transition to a more leadership position at headquarters. Hopefully, that’ll mean less traveling.”

I quickly journaled the hours down in my notebook. Live-in nannying hours are not for those looking for a job to allow them the life of leisure. Naturally that couldn’t possibly be true for a position whose main coworker is a five and a half year old boy.

“Alright. So that’s summer hours. We’ll need to brainstorm lots of stuff to do all day. Maybe the library?” I write a small note to get ideas and have them approved by Aaron.

He nodded, “Yes, summer hours are a lot, but Jack will be going to a couple camps that his therapist recommended. So you can get a couple hours each day to yourself. I am ready to compensate accordingly. Between my new role at the BAU and other personal investments, we live comfortably. How’s $2,500 to start and then we’ll discuss a raise in the future. And naturally your room and anything you may want to eat or have will be covered by me.” Aaron says it again in a way that leaves no room for argument. He must’ve been a great lawyer; no wonder dad adores him.

“That’s quite a lot of money.” I’m shocked and my face does a horrible job of hiding it. “I’m not a professional nanny. I’m good with kids. Really good. But I don’t do this for a living. This is you doing me a favor because if it wasn’t for you, I’d be a waitress at my dads’ country clubs” I cringed, my mind instantly filtering in an image of me serving one-time sorority sisters bottomless mimosas for an Easter Brunch.

“I apologize if you though that it was up for discussion, Y/N. Your first month’s pay will be $2,500 each week. And then it will increase to $3,250 each week. If I’m asking you to work 13 hour days plus one weekend a month? I better be paying you that much. And you’re still on Marty’s health insurance?”

I rolled my eyes, of course dad mentioned that to Aaron and of course Aaron double checked. Aaron just might have Marty, JD beat when it comes to thoroughness. “Yeah, till I’m 26. And that’s like…a year and change away.” I say, implying that it’s not up to me, or Aaron even, to know how long I’ll be with him. I wasn’t sure if I would ever venture out to LA again; not after what happened that sent me back here for good.

But the thing about food is that everyone wants good food, no matter where they live. And right now, the ones that wanted something good in their lives, lived in a lovely Colonial home on Moss Avenue.

“I guess there’s no arguing with you, prosecutor.” I say, my voice increasing just so that it balances the line between teasing and something else…something else I should be too ashamed to admit.

It elicited a smile from him and all of the sudden it was completely worth it. Aaron finishes his tea, and places it into the sink after dumping the remaining ice chips down the drain.

“Non-negotiable. It’s in your contract. Along with a health insurance package should you need to go off Marty’s name. Plus all that tax information that I’ll get you someone to walk you through it.” Aaron explained.

“Thank you.” I replied, grateful that it was both all above the table and that I would be given the resources to help me figure it out. Looking at the pile of paperwork in my lap, I was sure that if Aaron didn’t offer legal literacy assistance I would be way in over my head. “That’s wonderful. Really.”

“I just…I just want my son to be a good kid with a good childhood. That’s all. I want to be there for him and if I’m not there, I want the next best thing there. You know?” Aaron said and I’m not sure if it’s a plea or statement. Or if it was stuck somewhere in the middle; lost at sea like Aaron was himself. An island unto himself, drifting as the tide rolled in.

I break the silence. “What was Haley’s favorite meal?”

Aaron smiled. His eyes, crinkling again. “She had chicken piccata on our first date. And we ate it at our wedding. And when she found out she was pregnant with Jack she made it for me.” I nodded, understanding the important link between food and memories.

“Let’s make it. For Jack and you and Lorianne to share tonight before she leaves. It’s going to be a big transition for him to go from having grandma all the time to me, someone very new.” I expressed, hoping that I didn’t sound bossy or as if I wanted to parent Jack myself.

“That’s a lovely idea, Y/N.” Aaron sighed. “But I never was much of a chef. I wouldn’t know the first place to start.”

He leaned his hands against the table, a slight smile breaking the formidable since that had fallen between us in the moments before. I smiled back, standing from the table to reach my tote bag.

I pulled out an apron, the kind that criss crossed over my back. It was denim blue with a canvas front and large pockets.

“Move over,” I said, tying my apron, “It might be your kitchen, Aaron, but for tonight you’re kicked out”

The chicken ended up being more chicken piccata adjacent than a true representation of the dish. I mixed a seasoned blend of flour and spices for the dredging. Then, butterflied and pounded the chicken breasts into thin pieces.

Aaron’s kitchen was spacious and airy. There was a large island with barstools on one side and lots of pantry and cupboard space on the other. I stood at the island, dredging the chicken in seasoned flour before placing it nearly on paper towel lined trays. The chicken, thinned and butterflied, didn’t take long to cook in the oil and butter.

I let the skillet heat up till the oil, butter, garlic, and capers produced a mouthwatering aroma. Aaron gave me a bottle of white wine, imperative to make the sauce taste even better. I added freshly squeezed lemon juice and lemon slices to the pan sauce, letting the brown bits cook a little bit more. I scraped the edges of the skillet, incorporating the sauce even more.

I placed the chicken back into the pan, letting it absorb the lemony, garlicky flavor of the sauce. The sauce thickened, forming something that was similar enough to chicken piccata. I added a bit more butter to the pan, along with some lemon. I figured that it would stretch a little bit more for some sauce for the pasta on the side.

The chicken was simmering in the pan and the pasta water nearly boiling, when Jack came home. He looked like his father, but must have gotten his lighter colored hair and eyes from his mother.

Aaron walked into the kitchen with Jack, his hands resting on Jack’s shoulders protectively. Jack’s shy demeanor was evident as he peered over at me. I smiled and waved as I finished the pasta.

“Jackie, this is Ms. Y/N.” Aaron introduced me to the young boy, who stood shyly by his father. “We talked about how Grandma Lorraine needs to go back home. And we’re gonna have a friend come and live here.”

Jack nodded, his little mind clearly spinning and spinning to make sense of all this. He was clearly well adjusted, even for losing his mother at such a young age.

“Hey, there Jack!” I smiled. “I made a good dinner for you and your dad. I heard you went to the zoo with Grandma. I love the zoo. Especially the tigers.”

Jack nodded, eagerly walking around the kitchen island to talk about the zoo. “Yeah,” he said, “I liked the monkeys. They were funny. The babies were learning to climb and jump.”

I nodded, plating up some food for Jack. “Super cool. They’re kinda like little people. The way they act and play.” I placed the plate on the counter. “I used the Cars plate. It was way too cool not to.” I crouched down and whispered to Jack, “Just make sure your dad doesn’t swipe it. Between you and me I can see him eying it from here.”

Aaron chuckled, reaching high to grab not one, but two plates. He handed one to me before telling Jack to go sit for dinner. “You’re joining us. It’ll be good for us to get to know one another.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nothing you do would be an intrusion. And it’s good for Jack to see that we’re friends. He’ll be more trusting of you.”

I nodded, understanding that it was very important for Jack to become used to me. Especially considering Aaron’s job could take him away for days at a time.

“Alright.”

Aaron nodded. “Sit. I’ll get your plate.”

There was an understanding that washed over me. An understanding that Aaron was the kind of man that didn’t ask for things. He was simply used to things he wanted being carried out. I envied that security. Maybe if I had even an ounce of it I would still be hacking it out in LA. Or maybe I wouldn’t have needed to figure it out because I would’ve figured it out already.

Jack and Aaron went back and forth, swapping facts about dinosaurs. Jack was squarely in the dinosaur phase. Five minutes in, and I already had promised to help him find a dinosaur coloring book, with dinosaurs besides just the “cool ones”.

“Uncle Spencer says that some dinosaurs had heads as big as a car!” Jack said, practically shrieking with excitement as he recounted all the facts a certain Uncle Spencer had told him.

“Uncle Spencer’s so smart. And he’s a kid!” Several of Jack’s stories started with the aforementioned Uncle Spencer and I couldn’t help but wonder where the connection lay. Especially if, like Jack claimed, Spencer was a child. Sometimes some cousins are so far apart in age they’re more like an aunt or an uncle. Perhaps this was the case.

“Spencer is on my team.” My face must have shown my confusion. I always wore my emotions and thoughts on my sleeves, something that failed me several times over. Most notably when my friends in LA would get hit on by men at bars in the most vile of ways. One of the blessings of being deemed unapproachable by men was being left alone, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t burdened by their lack of tact in seducing women. “And he’s 28…yes about 28 now, and has been on the team since he was 23. He’s brilliant. Jason Gideon, who worked with Martin, scouted him when he was hardly 21. His mind works in ways that are simply unexplainable.”

“Which means he must have some pretty sick dino facts?” I ask, my question causing a prickly smile to appear on Aaron’s face. Jack giggles, he must enjoy seeing his father smile. It seems that even though the boys find themselves moving alone, smiles are few and far between. Especially from the elder Hotchner.

“And three phDs.” Aaron cut the rest of Jack’s chicken, sliding his plate over and reminding him to at least try the vegetables. “It’s like these kids are getting younger as fast as they are getting smarter. Sometimes I just look at Spencer and my knees hurt. Then again, I’m pretty sure I would beat him in anything athletic. Even though he’s much younger.”

I raised my brow instinctively, smiling. “Was that a joke?” I deadpanned. “My dad said you made two jokes the entire time he knew you. And the first was…”

I stopped myself short. But it was far too late. Aaron, like myself and my father, knew when the first joke he made to my father was. His wedding day. My father had long retired, and moved his mind and soul far, far away from the BAU. He trusted Aaron and Gideon to handle it. Instead he decided to live as himself, freely with his husband and their daughter in the suburbs.

If there was one thing that I shouldn’t have done the first night working with a nanny family consisting of a widower and his son, it was to bring up the marriage of the widower.

When Aaron married his late wife, Haley. My fathers attended, but I didn’t even remember. It must’ve been one of those times that Nana would sleepover. I remembered it was painting nails, ordering Chinese, and watching Walker, Texas Ranger and Family Feud. I remembered it as falling asleep to my Nana’s snoring as Home Shopping Club glowed on her ancient TV set and waking up to her chocolate chip pancakes. My father remembers it was the first time his young protege made a joke. And Aaron remembers it was the day he married the love of his life.

“Daddy?” Jack said, cutting through the silence, “I don’t like veggies. They’re too mushy.”

“Don’t eat them, bud.” Aaron, murmured, his voice laced with a guard that I hadn’t noticed till now. It was careful, like he crafted each tone and cadence before he spoke. “We’ll figure it out, Jack. Come on, let’s show Ms. Y/N her room. Where she’ll be staying.”

Each sentence is clipped and calculated. I nod, smiling as Jack stands next to his father.

“I’ll clean up.”

Aaron nodded, thanking me as he took Jack up to get ready for bed. Minutes later, the kitchen was back to normal and a couple extra meals were packed away for leftovers. I left a note on the counter for Aaron in the morning.

Lunch is in the fridge.

I always like to make extras!

Have a nice day

Y/N

Aaron returned, without Jack. “You didn’t have to do the whole kitchen. I don’t expect that. This isn’t a housekeeping job, it’s taking care of Jack.”

“I don’t mind. Being a chef…or I was a chef, as much as a pain in the ass cleaning and dishes can be sometimes it’s a good way to finish it all. I don’t know…I don’t make sense.” I chuckled, trailing off in a rambly way that fully gave away my nerves. My previous blunder had shaken me, especially since Aaron seemed completely unnerved, even though I knew it stung.

“I suppose, sometimes I used to stay late to do all the paperwork, even though the interns usually will do it for us.” Aaron wipped his hands on his pants.“Anyway, let me show you to the room. I had it cleaned over the weekend and put Lorianne up at a hotel for a couple nights so there wouldn’t be any issues or crossover.”

Aaron led me through the rest of the house. It was neat and tidy and I didn’t expect anything else from someone like Aaron, even though he does have a young, energetic son. There was just something meticulous about him. Something so put together and careful. And then there was me. Messy and complicated and unsure and terrified. Anyone would be that after having the carpet pulled out from under them. And I couldn’t name a bigger carpet than having to bury your life.

There was a locked door that led to what Aaron explained as my private area. “Jack and I won’t come over here. From the time that I get home in the evenings, or frankly, some days, till I leave in the mornings is your own. This is your spot in the house, but my housekeepers that come twice a month will clean in here, if you’d like.”

I nodded, grateful for that added bonus. The small attachment was the size of a studio apartment. There was a kitchenette with a nook tucked into the corner with the windows. The furniture matched the rest of the house, clearly Aaron had spared no expense to add this attachment. The queen sized bed was pushed up against the wall and nestled into the corner. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp. And, as I turned the corner, was the crowning jewel.

“Are those built–ins?” I asked, staring in disbelief. “Those are so gorgeous. I have like, easy, a ton, of books. God! Can I use them?” I turned, practically jumping from joy as Aaron chuckled reluctantly.

“Of course. This room’s yours.” Aaron must’ve carried my bags into the bedroom while I was cooking because all of my belongings sat on the floor near the set of love seats and armchair. “I’ll leave you to get settled. 8:30 okay for tomorrow?”

I nodded, stunned beyond belief as I opened my boxes of books. Aaron handed me a set of keys, one to the house, the shed, and the other to my area of the house.

“You’re the only one that has a copy. If you want others made, I’ll cover the expense.” Aaron explained. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Good night,” I replied, hooking the keys onto my set. “And thank you for this room. It’s nicer than my apartment in LA.”

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, “Of course, I think Jack'll be very happy. It’s been hard to trust others. With him, honestly…Jack’s all I got left.” I had known Aaron for about three hours, heard stories of his skill and professionalism and talent for years, but he wasn’t someone that I had known, let alone even met. But in those three hours, I could count several times where I saw a sliver of emotions.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

“Night.”

“And Y/N?” Aaron said, stopping me as I reach down to start shelving books, “Food does hold memories. You’re right. I needed it. We did. Jack and I. He needs to remember her.”

“Food has memories.” I said, shrugging, “You’re gonna have to learn I know more than you think I do.”

Taglist

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @pear-1206 @this-is-calm-and-its-anne @little-jana @pastelpinkflowerlife @sarcasm-and-stiles @ilovefictionalmennn

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 6 months

Text

Come Home With Me (part 1)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Warnings: angst

a/n: was sorta crying while writing this, i love this sm..there’s going to be part 2! hope you enjoy it!

From the first moment one of your close friends told you she was getting married, you knew you'd have to mentally prepare for the fact that on her wedding day, your ex would be there.

It wasn't just any ex. It was Carlos Sainz. Your first true love. The boy you thought was the one. The boy with whom you were the happiest ever and for whom you thought there was no one else after him.

But things don't always work out the way we want them to. There is no greater pain than when two people who are made for each other meet at the wrong time.

Even though you both knew it would be difficult, you didn't want to give up on each other at first. When you met, you were 23 and he was 28. You were in the middle of finishing college in Madrid, which meant a lot of responsibilities, a lot of sacrifices, a lot of hard work and effort, a lot of suffering. And he just signed the contract with Ferrari and wanted to prove himself, show what he can do, show that he deserves to be where he is, he focused all his time and energy on his career.

You pushed together for two years, you tried somehow to find time for each other, but over time it became too difficult. He had no understanding of your needs, he devoted himself too much to work and, if you were the one to ask, in the end he gave up too easily on you, on the two of you.

Being with him was difficult at times, but being without him was countless times worse.

Even though you were very young when you first started dating, you wanted everything with him. You didn't see yourself with anyone else but him, nor did you want anyone else but him. And he, 5 years older than you, for him you were not his first love, but you were his greatest. You were his niña. That's how he used to call you. His niña bonita.

You were the one who ended things with him, but that didn't ease your pain at all. On the contrary, you expected him to fight for you, to say okay, we'll find a way to solve this, but he didn't. Therefore, you couldn't wait to finish college and return home to Monaco. You adored Madrid, you fell in love with that city as much as you did with Carlos, but after the breakup it was simply impossible to stay where every street, park, square, every corner where you were together reminded you immeasurably of him.

And so two years later, when your friend Isabella told you she was getting married and that Carlos would be at the wedding, you knew you weren't ready to see him. Two years later you had a new boyfriend Andrew, but deep down you knew you never got over Carlos.

Isabella was the one who introduced you to Carlos. The two of them have always been good friends, so it was logical that he would be invited, but you didn't think about it at all because you tried to suppress every thought about him. You knew you weren’t ready, but there wasn’t nothing you could do about it.

When that long-awaited wedding day came, as you all watched the bride walk towards the altar, you couldn't help but search for his face in the crowd of people in the church.

You shifted in place the whole time, your knees rocking back and forth. Even Andrew noticed something was going on with you.

“Are you alright, love?” He startled you when he asked. You almost forgot Andrew was standing right there behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” You gave him a fake reassuring smile just so that he doesn’t ask any more questions.

You searched and searched and suddenly your eyes stopped at the last row of benches. There he stood, in a dark blue suit, his hair brushed to the side and freshly cut, more beautiful than ever. When you saw him, you didn't know that his brown eyes had already been watching you ever since he entered the church.

Your eyes immediately filled with tears as your gaze met his. It was the perfect moment to pretend you were crying for Isabella walking down the aisle.

“You sure you’re alright?” Andrew whisper-asked again.

“I’m just emotional, everything’s okay.”

In the evening when you arrived at the hotel where the wedding party was, your idea of having a good time was long forgotten. The venue was beautiful and luxurious. Everyone was happy, dancing and enjoying the newlyweds' day, only you were extremely nervous because you could feel Carlos' eyes on you all evening.

You tried to ignore him, to relax with a few drinks, but it was simply impossible to pretend he wasn't there.

“I'm going to go out on the terrace for some fresh air, okay?” You turned to Andrew who was talking to a friend that was sitting next to him.

“Okay, love. Give me a kiss.” He said. You leaned down to peck his lips before taking a glass of champagne and heading out.

There were a few people on the terrace, but you found an empty corner for yourself. You leaned your elbows on the fence and took a deep breath, closing your eyes in front of the night lights of beautiful Monaco.

Feeling the cool breeze on your skin, you wished it would take away all the pressure and sadness you carried with you. You wished that it would clear up everything cloudy in your mind that has been preventing you from moving on for two years already.

After about 10 minutes, you pulled yourself together and wanted to go back inside. Just as you finished up the champagne from the glass, you turned to go inside, but suddenly your breath stopped when you saw none other than Carlos standing behind you with his hands in his pockets and watching you with tilted head.

Your heart started pounding like crazy and your body froze in front of him.

“Carlos..” You barely spoke in a whisper.

“Y/n” He said quietly taking a step closer to you making you take a step back until your back hit the fence.

You didn't know what to say, what to do, even if you wanted to run away, your feet were as if glued to the floor. You just stood there in front of him looking straight into his eyes.

“What are you doing out here alone?” He asks breaking the silence between you two.

“I just needed to get some fresh air, that’s all.” You weren’t lying.

“Did my presence make you nervous?”

“No, your presence here doesn’t have anything to do with me.” But now you were.

“How have you been?”

“Good, very good actually.” Another lie.

“You’re not gonna ask me how I’ve been?”

“That’s none of my business anymore, so no. I don’t care.” He nods his head at your untrue words looking down at the floor.

“So who is that boy you came with?”

“That’s Andrew. My boyfriend.” You say biting the inside of your cheek. You almost felt guilty for calling him your boyfriend. Andrew. You were sure he was gonna go look for you if you don’t come back soon. “I should go. He’s probably looking for me right now.” You say trying to walk by past him, but he stops you by pulling you back by your elbow.

“Don’t go yet.”

“Why not? We have nothing to talk about.” You pull your elbow out of his grip, but you don't leave.

“Because you never left my mind.” He says. “Or heart.” He adds.

“It’s a little too late for that. You should’ve thought about that before you let me go.”

“Y/n, you were the one who broke up with me. I never wanted to end things between us.”

“You didn’t want to end things between us yet you gave up on us without a fight, so easily Carlos..” You fought with yourself not to cry. You didn't want to look weak in front of him even though you wanted to let him know how much he hurt you.

“That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better or what?” You asked with a sneer. “I have a boyfriend now, I moved on Carlos. I’m happy.” You say hoping you sound convincing at least to him if not to yourself.

“You’re lying, I know you are. I can feel it.” He takes another step closer until you can feel his breath on your skin as he looks down at you. He puts his hands on the fence on either side so that you are between them. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you know you’re always gonna be mi niña. Mi niña bonita.” Your heart aches and trembles at the same time at your forever favorite nickname. He puts his hand on your cheek as he leans very close to your face.

“Carlos, stop..” Your voice cracks as you lean your cheek into his hand.

“Come home with me, baby. Please.”

“And where is that Carlos? Where is my home?”

“Your home is in Madrid, with me.” His hands move from your face to your hands taking them into his and bringing them to his lips.

“You know, while Isabella was walking down the aisle, I couldn't help but imagine that it was you, and that I was there waiting for you at the altar.” Tears just flowed down your cheeks as you listened to him say everything you once wanted to hear.

“Remember how we used to fantasize about it. I still want all of that, y/n. Letting you go was the biggest mistake ever. I am so sorry baby.”

“Yet you never cared enough to look for me. Your words don’t match your actions, Carlos.” Once again you pull yourself out of his grip and step away further from him. Listening to him was causing you too much pain especially because you still wanted all of that as well, but your pride did not allow you to surrender to your emotions.

“Because I knew you were suffering and I didn’t want to be the reason of that! I’m sorry, y/n, I wish I could go back in time and make you stay.” He says flustered, waving his arms.

Right in that moment, Andrew’s voice interrupts you breaking you from your bubble in which you found yourself in completely forgetting where you are.

“Y/n?” You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and the smeared mascara under your eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry too, Carlos.” With that you leave him standing there on the terrace as you turn around and head towards Andrew.

part 2

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #f1 x female reader #f1 smut #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff

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the-boy-meets-evil · 5 months

Text

not according to plan | hjs (teaser)

summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his.

pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit (in the full fic), minors DNI word count: ~1.1k in this teaser (full fic ~22k) notes: johnny suh as the ex (sorry!), also includes other idols not in seventeen solely as face claims, there's a heavy focus on the fake dating, mentions of food & drink, warnings to be added to the final fic fic post date: friday, april 26th (full fic here)

a/n: i started this legit months ago as kind of a joke, talking about it with @shuadotcom but it's finally done (and a lot longer than i anticipated).

thank you to: @wonwussy & @kwanisms who read over this for me (too long ago), and to @cheolism @wooahaeproductions @hannieween, & sj for all the brainstorming help along the way. tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone @crepecakeu

if you'd like to be tagged in this fic (or any of my fics), comment, click here for my tag list, or send an ask 💕

You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into.

Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though.

Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.

It works.

When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks.

His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you.

In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated.

“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.

“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you.

“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.

“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks.

“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out.

Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?”

“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?”

A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information.

In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)

Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.

To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting.

“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.

“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.

let me know if you want to be tagged when i post the full fic next week 💕 (and what you think so far)

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toxicanonymity · 2 years

Text

night walks (original)

2k | pothead neighbor!Joel x f!reader

joel miller masterlist | night walks masterlist

He shrugs and leans in. You don't lean away. He takes your chin in his hand and your mouth opens for him, emptying your lungs before you can tell your body no. He gets less than an inch from your lips and exhales into your mouth as you inhale deeply, accepting his breath.

Summary: Joel, an older neighbor you've been walking with late at night, asks you into his basement to sell him weed but has other intentions.

content warnings: I8+ nsfw, drugs, dubcon, unsafe PIV sex, dirty talk, light imprisonment, creepy pothead joel, age gap (unspecified), possible dosing, no outbreak, Joel is untrustworthy.

(a/n): felt like writing some sex and taking a new Joel for a spin.

You're living in your Aunt's basement in a conservative suburban neighborhood while you work a dead-end job. You keep to yourself and don't know anyone in the neighborhood. You take a walk late at night. Not uncommon for you. Normally, no one is out, so you light up a joint as you round the corner into a dark cul-de-sac.

"That smells good," a gruff, disembodied voice says.

You startle and look around. "It's cool, I'm cool " he says, and your eyes land on him in the shadows. It's Joel Miller sitting out on the porch in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. "Sorry I scared you. I'm no snitch," he adds. "Have a good night."

He comes out almost every night from then on and starts to make small talk. One night he comes down from the porch in PJ pants and a tight t-shirt, stretched by his biceps, and asks if he can walk a lap with you. You're like, whatever. This is when you start to notice how hot he is, having barely seen him in the shadows. The PJ pants are a little too flattering on his ass and you can also see the ample size of his package. His beard glistens with bits of gray and silver.

In the darkest corner of the neighborhood one night, he says "hey" and his hand brushes the back of your hip. You turn and look into his eyes and his face darkens. He wets his lips and your heart races. He asks, "Mind if I hit that?"

You pass it to him and there's a spark when your fingers touch. The intimacy of his mouth on your joint makes you blush. His brow furrows as he takes a drag and maintains eye contact. Something in his gaze gives you butterflies between the legs.

He shares bits and pieces about himself. Sounds like he's having some kind of a midlife crisis. His wife cheated. He's moved into the basement and made a man cave. He starts crossing your mind during the day. What's his deal, why is he talking to you? Are you friends now? You're not sure if he's lonely or a creep.

One night, he sheepishly approaches you about buying some weed. He wants you to bring it to his man cave so you can show him the stuff and remind him how to roll a joint and all.

He lets you in the side door. When he holds the door open, you get a whiff of his sweat. He's listening to Pink Floyd. His tight shirt is blotched in perspiration and his muscles are pumped up.

He asks, "Mind if I finish this set?"

"Sure."

It's burning up inside and you're in joggers and a hoodie. You sit down on the couch and try not to watch. You look around the room at his TV, the bar. Your eyes drift to the bench where he's on his back, his shirt riding up exposing his happy trail, his package pressing up into his joggers.

"Don't be shy. You can watch," he says without looking over.

He's definitely a creep. He counts down from 5 then racks the bar and sits up. He looks you up and down. You put your thin metal case on a tray that's sitting on the ottoman in front of you.

He goes and locks the door where you came in - the bolt and the slider.

"Drink?" He asks, and walks behind the bar. "Gotta tell me what you want or you get an IPA."

"I'm good."

He brings you an IPA.

He uses his shirt to wipe his brow. He sits down right next to you, with plenty of other space on the couch, and stretches his arm out behind you. He catches you glancing toward the locked door.

"Too late now, pumpkin." He adjusts himself. "Come on, loosen up." He hands you the beer and you take a sip.

"Good girl." He looks you up and down again.

You put the beer down on the tray and lean forward, elbows on your knees. "Alright, so. . ."

His massive hand rubs your back slowly and it feels a little too good for comfort. You try to ignore it.

You open the weed case and get out the baggie and rolling papers. "You're gonna take-"

"Yeah, I know how to do it,” he smirks. He tucks some cash in your case – a little too much – and closes it.

Then he pulls out his own case from under the couch. He puts the weed you gave him in there and pulls out his own stash. You open your mouth but aren't sure what to say.

"You gotta hit this. Really, try it," he says.

You watch him roll the most perfect joint in the world.

You call him out. "Why'd you act like such a noob?"

"How else was I gonna get you in here, hm?”

Your cheeks burn.

“Now we're all set to do what we want." A self-satisfied smile creeps across his face. "I won't tell, you won't tell. . . " He winks at you and his eyes sparkle.

You tense. "I won't tell what?"

He brazenly eye-fucks you. "What are you gonna say, you came over to sell me weed? C’mon.”

He strokes your hair. You're a little sick to your stomach. You get another whiff of his sweat and curse your body for responding favorably.

"Where's your wife?"

"Hell if I know," he shrugs. His hungry eyes don't leave you alone.

"Damn, you're hot," he blurts out. It's exactly what you were trying not to think about him, but shit, he is.

He puts the joint in his mouth and lights up, then his arm returns behind you. His thumb strokes the nape of your neck and you don't move away. Not to be intimidated, you turn slightly toward him. He inhales, holds in the breath, then offers you the joint.

You hold up your hand and refuse the joint.

He shrugs and leans in. You don't lean away. He takes your chin in his hand and your mouth opens for him, emptying your lungs, before you can tell your body no. He gets less than an inch from your lips and exhales into your mouth as you inhale deeply, accepting his breath.

"Atta girl," he says, followed by a small cough into his fist.

You exhale the smoke slowly, then take a deep breath of clean air and exhale again.

His large, veiny hand rubs your thigh and you sit in silence for a moment.

He says, "Good shit, right?"

It's amazing. "Did you just dose me?"

He laughs. "Shotgunnin's a hell of a way to dose someone. Nah it's just about findin' the right strain, pumpkin"

Whatever it is - the weed, the beer, his sweat, his body, the glimmer in his eyes. . . Whatever it is has you hot all over and tingling between the legs. You fidget with the zipper of your hoodie.

He puts his hand over yours and tugs the zipper, his hand dangerously close to your tits. "Let's take that off," he says. You take it off, leaving a tank top and no bra, and fold it up at the arm of the couch. Part of you is unsure why you're settling in. The lower part of you knows exactly why.

His thick knuckles stroke the tattoo on your shoulder

His voice is a low rumble, through nearly-gritted teeth when he says, "found myself a bad girl."

He takes another puff, then sets the joint on an ashtray. He holds in the breath, takes your cheeks in his hands, his sad eyes searching your face hornily. You empty your lungs again. He seals his mouth with yours, sending a rush of blood to your loins. You accept the breath, sucking it out of his mouth, then close your mouth and turn away to exhale as your nipples harden. His face stays and hovers close to yours.

When you finish exhaling, you turn back and meet his gaze. His eyelids are heavy with lust. He looks at your lips, cradles the back of your head, and smashes his mouth into yours. His mustache tickles. His tongue invades your mouth and makes you throb. You back up a little and his body pushes yours down on your back, your head landing softly on your hoodie. His legs wedge between yours.

His clothed arousal presses right between your legs and his large hand maps your body as he buries his face in your neck. "Lets see how bad you can be," he growls into your ear before taking a gentle bite of your neck, then sucking hard. His hard-on swells even larger and harder against you and your hips automatically roll into him. Your legs wrap loosely around him all on their own. God, he's big.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but you’re dripping wet. It’s like a magnetic, masculine energy is radiating out of his pores, penetrating you. Locked in a basement with this total creep and you’re dizzy with desire.

He slides his arm under your neck and kisses you forcefully as he gropes your breasts and grinds into you. Then he shoves his hand down into your pants where you aren't wearing underwear. His thick fingers part your folds and glide against your slick. You hate yourself for it, but you've never been more turned on, and it shows.

When he feels how wet you are, he says “I’ll be damned. You want it that bad.”

He tugs down your joggers urgently, backing up on his knees to pull them and your shoes all the way off. Then he frees his cock and strokes himself, wetting his lips. Chest rising and falling as he eyes your naked cunt. Fuck, he has a nice cock.

He hovers over you again and one of your legs wraps loosely around him. Your back arches in anticipation. Your clit throbs. He breathes heavily and his cock prods your entrance. You moan softly. He teases you with the tip. Your body aches to be filled.

“All yours, baby, every inch.” His low voice obliterates anything that was left of your will to resist.

He pushes his swollen tip inside, and the stretch pushes a moan out of you.

“Yeah, go on. Take this cock.” He pushes further.

He grunts, "God, you're tight. C'mon now, you can do it.” Your hips tilt to receive more of him and he plunges the rest of his length into you with a loud grunt and shudder. His neck vein bulges and his eyes close. You gasp as he fills you up and you twitch around him.

“Yeah,” he pants, rocking into your clit while he's all the way inside. “Attagirl.” You already feel something building deep within you.

He retreats then plunges into you again with a grunt. The vein on his neck bulges more and his biceps flex as he hovers over you, fucking you slowly, then faster. “Yeah, that’s my bad girl.” Fuck, he feels good. Tension coils rapidly in your core.

He wraps a strong arm around you, lifts you up against him, and his cock stays inside you as he sits back on the couch so you’re in his lap straddling him. He expertly works your clit and his massive hands on your asscheeks move you on his cock as his hips move under you.

“God damn, you’re hot,” he says again as you roll your hips into him. “Yeah, ride this cock,” he says, thrusting up into you as his massive hands rove your body. He forcefully pulls down your tank top and sucks your tit, moaning into it. Your thighs tremble.

“Yeah, c’mon,” he says. “Come on this cock.”

The next time he bottoms out, your clit grinding into his pubic bone, softened by his hair — you do. Pleasure blooms from your clit, pulsing, washing over you, and your walls clench around him, wringing a guttural groan from his lungs.

His cock pulses enormously and your whole body jerks into him as your climax continues. He thrusts a few more times. Slow but emphatic, pulling you down on his cock as his balls empty inside you. You stay on top of him as your climax wanes.

Shit, that was dumb, you realize. But it felt really fucking good.

“Reckon I won’t need to lock ya in next time, huh?” he asks, stroking your hair. You swerve his hand, get dressed, and leave.

But the next night, you still find yourself walking by his house.

“Any time you wanna come,” he says. “You’re welcome."

Short Deleted Scene

Thank you for reading!!! your interaction is always appreciated too! 💐 this is a one shot but I'm having thots so you never know, LMK if you like him. I can kinda see him as a breeder, maybe.

Continuation by popular demand: night walks 2

#joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x you #pedro pascal #toxicnightwalks #night walks!joel #pervy!joel miller #pervy!joel #perv!joel miller #perv!joel #nightwalks☠️

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seren1tyhaze · 1 year

Text

Dive

PAIRING: doyoung x afab reader (ft djj)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k (got a bit carried away)

SUMMARY: your best friend drags you out to a club to be her wingwoman as she meets back up with a stunning stranger and you cross paths with the hottest man you've ever seen in an expensive suit and a cross around his neck

THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday you know how important you've been in getting this across the finish line and you're a literal angel. thank you so much <3 thank you to all my friends who watched me brainrot over this over the past week and inspiring me to keep working on it with your positive words.

WARNINGS: explicit smut, smoking, drinking, drug reference, profanity, heavy religious imagery in a sexual setting (and I mean HEAVY - so if this is going to bother you, this isn't the fic for you)

PLAYLIST: Dive by DoJaeJung, Angel by NCT 127

This was clearly inspired by the Doyoung D&G promo images with the rosary and the rest was history...

I can dive, I'm diving into you

—

Ouch. You pinch your eyelash with the curler as you lean in closer to the glassy mirror in your best friend’s bathroom. You knew you should be wearing your contacts but had forgotten them at home and you weren’t going to hear the end of it from her if that was the excuse you had for ditching her for the night.

It had been an exhausting week at work but somehow your adorable firecracker of a platonic soulmate since childhood had dragged you to her apartment as soon as the clock hit 5:00PM in the co-working space your small start-up you both worked for shared with some other local environmental companies.

She had shed off her casual work clothes hours before, now wearing a glittery black dress, hugging her hips tightly, strings ruched up the side revealing plenty of thigh, covered with nude fishnets. You envied her long and bouncy locks that flowed down her back, reaching up to touch your straight hair that never cooperated with the curling iron.

“What is it?” she asked from behind you, catching you staring.

“Is there something on my dress?” she spun around, craning her head to look at her own ass in the mirror.

You started to speak before you realized she was showing off, dropping to the floor quickly before slowly standing again, shimmying her rear as she started to sway to the faint music coming from her living room.

You rolled your eyes with a huff, curling your other eye’s lashes and applying a few coats of mascara.

“Loosen up, angel,” she called back as she moved into her walk-in closet to select her shoes and handbag, using her pet name she had been calling you for years.

You finished up the rest of your makeup, cleaning up the little pile of products and packing them back neatly in their small pouch before examining yourself in the mirror. Your dark hair fell almost to your shoulders, eyes accentuated with smudged dark liner and cheekbones dusted with a bright coral blush that complimented the glossy color across your lips. You had let your best friend convince you to dress up more than you usually did, since she said the club you were going to tended to cater to a more affluent clientele.

A skin tight white leather crop top pushed your breasts up nicely and you had even let your friend dust some shimmering glitter across them with a large puff earlier. You smoothed the matching devastatingly short skirt and adjusted the lace up black boots that travelled up your long legs and over your knee. You felt confident in the outfit and only slightly uneasy about the night ahead. Your friend had a tendency to scan for her prey of the night the minute you entered a venue and often spent the night locking lips with half the dance floor or as she did the weekend before, dancing on stage with the burlesque dancers at the late night speakeasy.

Standing next to her as you both did final checks in the mirror, you looked like the moonlight and sunlight, night and day, devil and angel. A dangerous pair for any person to come across in a crowded club with these outfits, to say the least. You giggled as your friend planted a glossy kiss to your ear before pushing your hair back into place, following her out of the spacious apartment.

“WOO!” shrieked your friend, waving long fingernails at a tall, slender man leaning against a private booth tucked near the DJ. A warm grin spread across his plush lips and you couldn’t help it when your heart jumped a little in your chest. How your friend always found the most attractive people to surround herself always surprised you (not like you were complaining).

She had met Jungwoo the weekend before at a rave and had gabbed your ear off about the attractive and rich heir to a fortune who lived downtown in the middle of all the weekend excitement and had fed her drinks all night long while clutching onto her hips as they danced. She hadn’t gone home with him but instead had gotten his number and promised to meet him out the next weekend. The next weekend was now and out the two of you were.

Jungwoo was absolutely stunning, bright white hair damp, long, and hanging around his cheeks and across his forehead. He wore a sheer blouse unbuttoned halfway, exposing much of his toned chest and loose grey slacks that didn’t leave much to the imagination when he moved.

Taking careful steps through the crowd, you followed your friend who now had her hand held close to the lips of another man, this one dressed in the remains of an expensive suit, tie loose and sloppy around his neck with several buttons of a crisp pale blue shirt undone. He had dark hair slicked back to reveal his stunning face and his eyes glittered when he pulled them to yours to greet you.

“This is Jaehyun, Jungwoo’s roommate!” she giggled, a glass of champagne somehow already in her hand as she grinned at Jaehyun’s tender kiss to the back of her hand.

“Lovely to meet you, girls,” Jaehyun spoke deep and smoothly, his voice like velvet.

You cleared your throat with a small smile and shifted your weight in the uncomfortable shoes, eyes darting past the two men in front of you to a third seated in the booth.

Goosebumps instantly dotted your bare arms as you raked your eyes over one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Even seated, you could tell he was tall with a broad frame. His hand was stretched out across his knee, high end designer fabric covering every inch of his body.

As if in slow motion, he lifted his head from his phone, placing it next to him to take a long sip from the short glass of dark liquid on the table in front of him. He brought his dark eyes up to meet yours and as soon as you made contact you watched his adam’s apple move in his throat, gulping as he peeled his eyes down your body.

You moved a hand to grip your other forearm, suddenly self conscious but equally intrigued, cocking your head slightly to the side. Your vision blurred briefly and you cursed yourself for not remembering your contacts as your loss of focus refused to let you make out the expression on the mystery man’s face.

“Doie - don’t be rude, say hi!” Jungwoo slurred out, taking a strong hand to the small of your back to guide you into the booth and directly next to Doyoung.

“Hi,” he spoke, quiet and soft, pulling his hand off his knee to extend a handshake to you.

You chuckled lightly and let him shake your hand, taking a moment to inspect him further now that you could see him better.

The white collared shirt under his suit jacket was tight (almost too tight) with the top buttons straining against the fabric enclosure. He had a soft jaw and plump lips, dark hair styled in a way that was kept but still messy in a sexy way. When he smiled his eyes crinkled in the corners and his neutral facial expression was hard to read when he wasn’t speaking.

You let your eyes wander down to his tight pants before shaking your head, begging your dirty mind to control itself. It hadn’t been that long since you had hooked up with a stranger at a bar but long enough to let your mind wander within minutes of meeting this man.

Doyoung reached across the table to pour you a glass of champagne from the bottle in the ice bucket and as he did, you noticed a glimmering chain around his neck. As he leaned further, you saw the small black beads on the chain catching the light and much to your surprise, a cross slipped into view briefly.

You sucked in a deep inhale at the sight - this man was wearing a fucking rosary around his neck.

Flashes of hours kneeling for Easter vigil mass, heavy clouds of incense in your face as you held the thurible in a floor length white robe, dark smudges on your forehead, and getting tipsy off communion wine in the church basement with your cousins flew across your mind as you watched him laugh at something Jaehyun said.

Jungwoo swore loudly as he dripped tequila across the table, attempting to pour five shots evenly. You can’t pull your eyes away from Doyoung, watching as he bows his head lightly, wincing ever so slightly at the curse words.

Who the fuck is this guy?

Taking a long drink from your champagne glass and tossing back the shot that is handed to you, you reach into your bag and dig out a carton of cigarettes, pulling the ashtray at the center of the table closer to you.

Pulling a loose stick with your lips, you instinctively gesture towards Doyoung who moves a hand quickly to decline. You shrug and move a bit closer to Jungwoo who is taking a long drag from a neon green vape. He chuckles and tosses his hair from his eyes as he watches the interaction.

“You’re better off making moves on Jae,” he says to you on his exhale. He tosses an arm around your shoulder, nudging your bare shoulder lightly with his thumb, cocking his chin up to draw your attention to a smiley Jaehyun swaying to the music, slightly off beat, as your friend tries to get him to salsa dance with her.

“Doyoung is a little more on the conservative side. Doesn’t smoke, doesn’t like getting high, barely gets drunk, takes his grandma to church on Sundays, all that,” Jungwoo adds, giving you a softer smile as he pulls your eyes into contact with his.

You narrow your own eyes slightly, not sure if this is some twisted attempt at reverse psychology to push you even more into the arms of his friend. While he was wearing the rosary, that didn’t necessarily scream “priest”. He was in a high end club’s most desirable VIP booth, surrounded by drinks and other substances, with two party boys that looked like models.

“Well he’s taken every shot that’s been poured for him, so I don’t know about that ‘not getting drunk’ part,” you quip back, taking a long drag from your cigarette and blowing it behind you through tightly pursed lips, intentionally avoiding Doyoung’s direction.

“Yeah he and Jaehyun lost some big account today, I think he’s just blowing off some steam. Plus he owes me,” Jungwoo winks as punctuation, making it apparent that he wasn’t going to elaborate on the end of that statement.

Throughout the night you learn that Doyoung and Jaehyun work at a big investment bank, Jaehyun sharing a small apartment with Jungwoo in the middle of all the city nightlife, the three of them having known each other since they were kids. Doyoung seemed to have never moved on from their strong faith-based formative years, holding onto these ideals even years later and still an active member of his family’s church community. When he checks the time on his phone you see the smiling face of an older woman pushed up against his, assuming this to be the grandmother Jungwoo mentioned before.

He’s quiet as you chat with him, having to do most of the talking, but is kind and puts some of your nerves at ease even when your friend is off in the middle of the dance floor doing god knows what with god knows who.

Despite his reserved nature, you feel his eyes trained on your every move, following your lips and hands as you smoke another cigarette, the way you cross and uncross your legs with ease, despite the short skirt that has a tendency to ride up when you wiggle in your seat.

You watch him in the same way he watches you, the way his hair falls into his eyes every once and a while and instead of pushing it away with his hand, he shakes his head lightly, flicking his eyes up as if to chastise the loose strands. When he leans forward to take a sip of his drink or gesture to the waitress, his toned chest is exposed by the undone buttons on his shirt.

As much as you hate to admit it, his very presence is intoxicating and it’s affecting you more than you would like. Goosebumps crop up on your arms and you suddenly feel chilled in the warm room, sending a shiver down your spine.

A loud laugh draws your attention across the booth and you are met with the sight of your friend feverishly making out with Jaehyun, sandwiched between him and Jungwoo who has his hand up the hem of her dress, laughing into her neck.

You whip your head back towards Doyoung, giving an awkward smile to him before the chill sets over you again. You train your gaze downwards, examining the patterned carpet on the floor and the laces on your thigh high boots, picking at the edge of the string. You startle at the feeling of fabric being draped over your shoulders, looking up to see that Doyoung has placed his suit jacket around your shoulders.

He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulder after placing the jacket and you suddenly feel an additional set of eyes on you as you lift up to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. He’s staring at your slightly spread legs, running a wicked tongue across his bottom lip as it quirks up into a wry smile.

You feel Doyoung’s grip around your shoulder tighten and turn to see his face close to yours, your heart jumping in your chest when you feel his breath across your cheek. You can’t bear to break eye contact with him, despite the fact that you desperately wish you could see Jaehyun’s reaction.

“You seemed cold,” he murmurs to you, lips almost brushing across your skin as he speaks close to your ear. He smells delicious, like soft musk but still clean and warm. You mentally take note to slyly ask Jungwoo what cologne his friend wears.

“Thank you,” is all you can muster and you resist the urge to drop your head to his shoulder, suddenly feeling lightheaded in the haze of alcohol, nicotine, and the blaring music of the club.

Doyoung reaches to the table for his glass, arm never leaving your shoulder, rolled shirt sleeve revealing a large and intricate cross tattoo on his forearm. At the sight of the ink you are jolted back to the reality that this man is not who you want him to be. You would normally have a hand palming his groin in the dim lights of the club, moaning into his mouth as he gripped the exposed skin on your back and whispered filthy strings of words into your ear.

But no, you had to bag the “Holier than Thou, Man of God.” Of course you did. This was not going to be good for your libido.

Your friend is suddenly dragging you by the hand to the bathroom, moving surprisingly fast in her towering heels.

“Sooooooooo, angel,” she whines from the single use stall she pulled you into after locking the door.

“What are you about to ask me to do?” you sigh, fixing your hair in the mirror as your friend hikes up her dress to pee.

“I’m going to take those two home with me,” she bluntly tells you, as you predicted.

“Yeah I think anyone in this club could have told me that,” you reply, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. You didn’t really care what she did, only frustrated now that you had to make the hike home in an expensive taxi or wait for the unreliable train service.

“It’s fine, babe, I’ll get home okay,” you add, mustering the sweetest tone you can for your oldest friend. She deserved to blow off steam as much as next person, but you loved staying over at her luxury apartment on the weekends and the lazy mornings you spent sipping homemade cappuccinos and doing face masks.

“You’re the BESTTTT!” she nearly shouts, throwing her arms around you, damp hands fresh from washing them in the sink getting your skin wet. You laugh at her, congratulating her on getting her dick wet and ushering her out of the small room with a smack to her ass.

Back at the booth she wastes no time murmuring in the ears of the two eager men before they share a steamy three way kiss that results in Jungwoo tugging Jaehyun’s bottom lip with his teeth, looping an arm around his slim waist.

You are flicking through the various ride share apps on your phone to find the cheapest option, boots feeling uncomfortably tight on your feet after a long night. Last thing you want to do in this outfit is sit on an empty train and make the long walk uphill to your apartment complex once you arrive at your stop.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, face suddenly close to yours again. There’s a level of concern in his eyes that you cannot read when he speaks to you.

“Calling for a car home, I don’t have the luxury of living right here downtown and had plans to crash at hers. I’m assuming my job doesn’t pay as well as yours and Jae’s,” you reply, only lifting your eyes up to meet his after you’ve spoken.

God his eyes are so pretty.

“Why don’t you stay at mine, I can sleep on the couch and my driver can take you home in the morning,” he offers, picking your phone out of your hand and locking the screen.

You open your mouth in protest before thinking more on the offer. His driver?! You would be crazy to turn him down and your friend is already halfway out the door headed towards what will undoubtedly be a night to remember.

You nod and quickly stand, holding a hand out for his, guiding him out the back door of the club. He’s making a call on his phone in a hushed tone while you slide your long coat over his blazer, still wrapped around your shoulders, Jungwoo giving you a small smile and wiggle of his fingers as he slides into the back of a cab.

“I love you angellllll,” your friend slurs out dramatically, knowing she is far less drunk than she appears, playing up the antics for the men around her. Jaehyun has an arm tucked loosely around her waist, grinning ear to ear as the evening wind ruffles his dark hair.

You pull your friend in for a hug before she ducks into the car, latching her lips immediately onto Jungwoo’s exposed neck, drawing a chuckle from you on the street.

Jaehyun pauses before getting in the car, dipping down to whisper right along the shell of your ear.

“Angel is it? I don’t know about that,” he practically moans out, voice breathy and deep.

“Seemed like a devil in disguise in that tight little skirt, slutty legs spread in the club for our sweet and innocent Doie,” he laughs out, laying the degrading tone on thick. His finger is under your chin, tipping it up to force you to look at him. Your heart is pounding and flying around your chest and you can feel your cheeks burn.

Suddenly there’s a hand on your back and you don’t have to look to know that Doyoung has stepped up behind you.

Jaehyun gives you a wink, pushing past you to plant a lingering kiss on Doyoung’s cheek, before turning and disappearing into the car.

Before you can say anything to Doyoung, a black town car replaces the cab in its spot on the busy street, Doyoung moving quickly to open the door for you, helping you in with a strong hand. He closes the door softly before moving around to the street side to slide in next to you, greeting the driver in the front pleasantly.

Your head is spinning and you desperately hope there is time to have a cigarette before going upstairs to Doyoung’s apartment, feeling anxiety creeping up in your chest.

Despite the spacious backseat, Doyoung can’t help but be pressed up against you, twisting to look at you as you make small talk. You watch him when he answers questions you ask and listen to a small story about a frustrating email exchange at work, as if the two of you had known each other forever.

Distracted by the beaded chain around his neck again, you reach over, taking the cross gingerly in between your pointer and middle finger, inspecting it. The metal is cold in your hand and nostalgia rushes over you as you hold it in your hand.

“I dip it in holy water every morning to help keep me grounded and ask that God bless my daily travels,” he offers, smiling lightly at you as he explains in earnest. You know by now that he isn’t lying, that there would be no reason for him to.

“I kiss it as well, asking him to bless my words and calm my mind in a world filled with temptation,” he continues, unwilling to break the heavy eye contact.

He reaches out and draws your fingers to his lips, still holding the cross, and kisses the small metal piece, catching the tips of your fingers with soft lips. They are warm and plush, sending jolts of electricity through your hand and to your chest. You have to shift in your seat to calm the throbbing in your core. This gesture shouldn’t be turning you on this much and you know now that if there is a hell, you surely are destined to take residence there.

The tension in the car is thick as you shiver, hand moving before you have a chance to think, bringing his hand and yours to your own lips, copying his kiss. You watch him gulp and pull his bottom lip in between his teeth as his eyes darken at the sight of the cross pressed to your lips.

Oh you are so royally fucked.

You watch him as he absently brushes the back of his hand against your own in the elevator ride to the top floor of the sleek and modern building. He lets his fingers tangle with yours briefly before holding his hand out when the door starts to open, bringing the foyer of his apartment into view.

You let a gasp fall from your lips, taking in the beautiful space around you. Lights flick on as you reach down to release the knot holding the laces of your boots in place, stepping out of them carefully by steadying yourself on a small table adorned with realistic looking fake flowers.

You try to keep your boots tidy under the coat rack, slipping off your coat and hanging it up and checking yourself in the small mirror above hooks of dangling keys. You notice one key with a Kuromi cover, smiling lightly and wondering if he had picked that out for himself. He will tell you one day that it is the key to his mailbox and one of the kids from his Sunday school class brought it in for him after they said Kuromi reminded them of Doyoung.

You follow him to the open living area which melts into the compact kitchen adorned with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. He’s opening the door to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of water and pouring two glasses.

The apartment is warm but minimalistic in style, adorned with shades of cream, black and gray. You half expect to see a statue of Mary where the tv sits but there’s barely any religious imagery present. Maybe you had misjudged him after all.

As you close the space between you, you let his blazer slip from your shoulders, catching it and folding it gently in your hands, looking up towards him through your long lashes as you lean your hip against the cold edge of the counter, offering the blazer to him. Instead of taking the jacket from your hands, he leans forward, brushing a thumb across the high point of your cheek, examining your face.

“Let me know if there is anything I can get you to feel more at home, I want you to feel comfortable,” he murmurs, eyes flicking down briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

You feel butterflies in your chest and despite how tired you know you should be, your heart is pounding and core tightening at how close he stands to you in his beautiful apartment, finally able to hear his voice clearly without the sounds of the club or busy streets of the city. It’s velvety smooth and even and his lips tip up at the edges when he finishes his kind statement. You want desperately to push up and capture them in yours but instead nod slowly, taking one of the glasses of water into your hand gulping down some of the cool liquid to try to quell the arousal building within you.

He brushes your skin with his thumb once more before taking the jacket from you, moving to his bedroom and returning moments later with a couple pillows and a large blanket, which he leaves on the plush couch.

“I don’t mind just sleeping out here,” you offer, scanning the comfortable looking room, knowing if you slept in the living room you might be able to more easily slip out unnoticed in the morning. You’ve never been one for tender mornings in bed with a one night stand and this situation shouldn’t be treated any different. You don’t believe he will actually make any move beyond what he has, despite the brief intimate moments you’ve shared since stepping out of the club.

“No no, I insist, take my bed. The bedding was just changed this morning,” he makes sure to note and you realize how rich this man truly must be if he avoided mentioning who exactly changed the sheets. Surely not Doyoung, with his thousands of dollars of clothing and jewelry on his body and on-call car service and penthouse suite.

He moves to open the door to the balcony, cool but comfortable night air flooding the living room as he hands you a vintage glass ashtray from the media cabinet.

“In case you need one before you go to sleep or in the night,” he offers, smiling lightly at the shocked look on your face.

“Jungwoo is always hanging around here when I’m working late and I’ve learned there is no way to stop people from doing something they want to do. I can’t change my friends and I wouldn’t want to. I have things in my life and things I have removed from my life but that is my own decision and shouldn’t affect my relationships with those I love,” he adds, fingers brushing over yours as they make contact to pass the item to you.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a shower quickly and then let you have the bedroom and bathroom. If you need it, there’s a toilet near the elevator and some fresh fruit in the fridge,” he continues, resisting the urge to brush his lips over your bare shoulder.

You thank him and take your purse out to the balcony, closing the door lightly behind you but making sure it latches fully. Stepping forward towards the edge of the balcony, you quickly light a cigarette and feel calm wash over you as you watch the flickering lights of the city skyline. The cool air feels good against your cheeks and exposed abdomen, needing desperately to cool down. You try (and fail) to not let your mind wander to thoughts of Doyoung in a steamy rainfall shower, steam gathering on glossy mirrors and hot water racing down toned biceps and thighs.

You burn through it eagerly, extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray and disposing of it in a small bin attached to the balcony’s railing before heading back inside. Doyoung is emerging from his bedroom in a tight white tank top and loose grey sweatpants, bare feet padding across the plush throw rug.

“I left you some clothes and towels on the bed but help yourself to my closet if you need something warmer,” he mutters awkwardly, the power balance shifting slightly as he stands in front of you in casual clothes, black rosary still visible proudly on his chest.

“I’ll wash up, if that’s okay? If you’re tired and want to sleep, don’t worry about waiting for me to finish. I usually stay up pretty late and I’m sure you have early mornings,” you ramble, scratching at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Take your time, I usually read for a while before bed,” he gestures to a small leather bound bible on the coffee table. Of course he does.

In the shower, you let the water rush over your body, using some of the small skincare bottles to wash your face and step out, massaging shower oil into your damp skin. You sigh into the warm white towel fresh off the warming rack and feel like you’re living in a dream.

Can’t I just stay here forever?

You know your modest apartment waits for you a few miles away, with your own much smaller and dingier balcony where you like to sketch in your journal as you watch birds settle on the hanging flower baskets. You could never see yourself living full time in the cold of the city, barely any green space and garbage littering the streets.

Checking outside the bathroom door before emerging, the coast is clear as you step back into his spacious bedroom, lightly touching the clothing he had laid out for you. A large and faded t-shirt that appears to be from a church camp is folded neatly, logo barely still visible.

A package of unopened cotton boxer briefs is next to the shirt, knowing he must have been panicking thinking of how he could offer you something to wear without it seeming creepy. But he seems to at least have experience taking care of stranded tipsy guests (even if they usually were just Jungwoo and someone he brought home from the bar). You pull the shirt over your head and it falls easily to your mid-thigh, skimming over your hardened nipples, painful as they make contact with the cool air from the vent.

Sliding on the boxers, you pull them up to your waist and the shirt covers them fully. You decide against the sweatpants next to the shirt, knowing they will be far too long for you and opt to instead roll on the pair of long socks before placing the pants back on the dresser. You listen at the door for any noise from the living room, hearing a light hum of music you can’t decipher. Pressing your ear closer you recognize Debussy floating through the air and let out a small smile.

You’re about to tuck yourself into the king sized bed before you realize you didn’t bring the water glass in with you. Scanning the room you don’t see one and silently curse yourself.

Sliding the door open quietly, you stick your head out tentatively, his head lifting to look at you. He looks absolutely adorable, bundled up in a fluffy blanket with his small bible in his lap and two scented candles lit on the table. The music did turn out to be Debussy, playing softly on a record player in the corner.

“Is the music too loud?” he asks, moving as if he is going to turn it off.

“No no, it’s beautiful,” you breathe out in reply, sliding out from the door and covering your chest with your arms, self conscious. This causes the hem of the shirt to hike up, exposing a sliver of the white briefs covering your lower half.

Doyoung’s eyes trail down your body, as if wanting to mentally capture this image of you dressed in his clothes, standing sheepishly in front of him. He pushes away thoughts of you on your knees in front of him, mouthing along his length through his sweatpants while he tugs on your silky and damp hair.

“I, um, just came out for some water,” you add, crossing to the counter to grab the glass before returning to stand awkwardly next to the couch.

“Why does she call you angel?” he asks suddenly, pulling an arm up on the back of the couch, unintentionally opening up a perfect sized space for you to sit next to him.

You smile lightly and cross to sit next to him, perching on the edge of the cushion so as to not crowd him.

“My middle name is Angelica,” you replied softly. “She just took a liking to the pet name many years ago.”

He smiles softly at this explanation, suddenly aware that his other hand has strayed to the hem of his shirt hanging loose on your torso.

“Angel…” he tries, feeling the way it sounds in his voice, feeling the way the words taste as they roll off his tongue. He smirks, pinching the fabric at the edge of the shirt in between his fingers and releasing it.

“Can I call you that?” he breathes out, suddenly closer to your face than you had realized.

“Only if you’re a good boy,” you manage to say in an even tone, hand finally reaching out to touch his chest, flattening against his toned pecs, metal beads digging into your palm.

His eyes flutter, brain clearly short circuiting at the mention of praise, fingers stilling but breathing becoming more labored.

“Can I please kiss you?” you ask, eyes and voice hopeful. You palm the cross on the rosary, holding it tightly in your hand as you pull gently, bringing yourself closer to Doyoung as your eyes slip shut, not waiting for a response.

His lips are on yours suddenly, pressing firmly as his hand flies to your lower back, pressing you flush against his chest, capturing your hand in between your bodies. You refuse to let go of the rosary, pulling tighter so he’s forced to deepen the kiss.

You feel his hand push up the back of the shirt and up your back, as if reaching for a bra to unhook and you can’t help but smile against his mouth, knowing he is far less innocent than he seems.

You rise up on your knees, moving your legs to straddle him on the couch, suddenly feeling something firm against your bare thigh. Your grin grows, nuzzling against his nose teasingly.

“Well, well, look who isn’t such a good boy after all,” you growl out, unable to control how horny you are for this man under you.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, brows furrowed in confusion at your comment. Reaching between your bodies, he pulls out the leather bible and you flush deeply, unable to process that you thought it was his erection.

You avert your eyes from his and reach an arm up to touch the back of your neck nervously but his hand quickly grabs your wrist as he moves your hand to his lap, eyes darkening. When he pushes you down against his sweatpants you feel him harder than you thought he would be, not to mention way bigger than you thought he would be.

“Who said I was a good boy, angel?” he asked quietly, almost sounding annoyed with you. He grips your wrist tighter, pulling you closer to him before capturing your lips in his again.

It takes you a moment to respond, brain foggy at the name and sequence of events that had just unfolded. It doesn’t take you long to recover before slipping your tongue into his mouth hungrily, fingers lacing his hair to pull him desperately close.

You can’t help but move quickly with him, spreading your thighs to grind slow circles into his clothed crotch, biting back moans that bubble in your throat.

Hands are suddenly tugging at the hem of the shirt and you quickly oblige, peeling off the thin cotton and discarding it on the floor. Your chest is heaving as you sit on his lap in just the white boxer briefs, nipples erect and back arched to push your full chest towards him.

Doyoung hungrily licks his lips, eyes darting over your body as if there’s a time limit to the amount of time he has to look. You know you look good and he knew from the minute he saw you walk in the club that you would be on his lap, tits bouncing as he pressed up towards you with an experimental thrust. A small groan slides from his spit slicked lips as he slides one hand to your lower back and the other to cup your breast.

“Good God,” he lets out before lowering his mouth to your nipple, flicking eyes up to watch as you tumble contrasting curses from your plump lips.

He moves his mouth expertly, tongue laving over the sensitive skin, teeth dragging against your tight nipple. His hand on your lower back feels huge, fingers spread wide and gripping at your flesh as if you will disappear if he loosens his grip.

“Fuck me right here,” you can’t help but mutter into his open mouth after a particularly loud gasp flies from your mouth when you feel the tip of his dick collide with your clothed clit.

He pulls back, face seemingly questioning himself, eyes flicking over to the coffee table with the bible before turning upwards and fluttering shut.

You’re amazed at how this man can have his tit in your mouth one minute and then the next…

“Wait, are you praying?!” you ask in shock, stifling the laughter that builds in your throat.

He peeks at you with one eye open, smiling lightly before closing his eyes again and humming out an incoherent reply.

“Amen,” he says softly after a few more moments have passed.

You don’t have time to question him further when he quickly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing tight and toned abs and letting his broad chest crowd you in what could only be described as a bear hug. He pulls you close to his chest and you can feel his heartbeat reverberating through your own skin.

“The angel wants to get fucked, does she?” he growls as he digs his nails into your back.

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” he adds before flipping you over suddenly, standing above you as he slides the boxers down to your ankles, leaving your socks on.

He then moves his hands to his own waistband, removing the sweatpants and revealing his hard cock, already flushed and angry with arousal. As he bends down, the rosary dangles from his neck and you can’t help but stare.

You’re laid out, exposed in front of him as he drops to his knees, nudging your knees to widen in front of him. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, controlling and calculated. You have to ask yourself the same question you asked in the club, who the fuck was this guy?

“You asked if I was praying earlier,” he speaks quietly, long fingers dragging along your sensitive inner thigh, avoiding where you want him the most.

“I just like to thank God before I eat,” he adds, eyes glimmering with mischief as he pushes forward, tongue licking a long stripe along your dripping core, sending shockwaves throughout your body.

Your brain is swimming with pleasure at the filthy words he spoke and the way his mouth is warm against your burning core, tugging on his hair and slipping your hand down to his neck to stroke the shorter strands there to encourage him.

His muffled moans send vibrations along your folds and shivers up your spine as he laps at you like it’s the fucking last supper. You feel your release close, thighs pulling in to tighten around his face. He shoves them back open every time they threaten to suffocate him, giving him access to every inch of you.

Your orgasm creeps up on you and you are suddenly screaming his name, head thrown back on the back of the couch, vision blinding white. Your eyes are clenched shut as you make every attempt to slow your heavy breathing.

You feel warm hands under your thighs and realize he's lifting you from the couch. You let your arms fall lazily around his shoulders and your head loll over as he carries you to the bedroom. Laying you gently on your back, he’s suddenly leaning over you, lips brushing against your jaw, peppering kisses up to your ear and leaving more along your hairline.

“That was heavenly,” you sigh out, feeling dizzy from the soft gestures.

He smiles and pushes your hair from your face, leaning down to kiss you. You can’t get enough of his lips, every time they press over yours you’re drawn in closer, wanting more and more.

“I know you said you wanted me to fuck you on the couch and as much as I would love to bend you over and slam into you, I want to see your face when I make you cream on my dick,” he says as if it’s the simplest and most normal sentence on the planet. He sits up, reaching a veiny hand over to the bedside table and into the shallow drawer there.

Your mouth hangs open for a moment until you feel his fingers on you again, rubbing slow circles on you, gathering your post orgasm arousal as he tears open a condom that is carefully dangling between his lips. He slicks up his rock hard erection with your wetness before sliding it on and running a hand through his now messy hair.

You adjust yourself on the bed, propping your knees up so he can crawl between them. He brings his face close to yours and drags his tongue lazily against your lower lip before pushing into you.

Your eyes widen, feeling the stretch of his massive cock and the look on his face when he finally feels himself inside you. You swear he’s seen the second coming of Christ and you wish you could take a picture of the pure bliss.

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up a consistent pace of pumping in and out of you, grunts and moans falling from his lips and sounding almost like he’s singing. You almost come at the sight of the rosary dangling above you and moving with each thrust, knowing how fucking filthy this is but how it’s the most turned on you’ve been in ages.

He’s close and you don’t know how much longer you can last after him so you hook your legs around his back and push on him, silently begging to flip over. He obliges and lets you return to a similar position from the couch, him seated against the pillows and you rising up and down on his cock. This drives you insane, watching his face contort in pleasure as you ride him, letting his name fall over and over from your lips like your own prayer.

“Angel, I’m so close,” he moans, pulling you so tight against his chest that you feel yourself becoming one with him. You move together, moan together, and release in strangled cries together.

You pull back, out of breath and struggling to compose yourself, glancing down at your chest to see an imprint of the cross in between swollen breasts. He has a hazy, happy grin across his face and you know you have to look the same in this moment.

He reaches out, brushing pads of his fingers across the imprint on your chest before dipping down to kiss at the cross mark.

You think your heart might explode in that very moment, suddenly visualizing the two of you holding hands in a church pew or leaning over candles, lighting them and bowing your heads in silence.

What the fuck has gotten into you?

–

Once he finishes tucking the plush duvet around your naked body, he lays flat on his back, exhaling in relaxation for what sounded like the first time that night, and humming out an almost angelic note.

“And on the seventh day, God looked at all he had made and rested from the work he had done,” Doyoung paraphrased, grinning at his joke, turning slightly to nuzzle his face into your bare shoulder.

Your cheeks warmed and eyes welled as you watched your dark haired lover drift off into sleep, arms laying beside him, not clinging to you as they had been all night, as if fully relaxed at how you seemingly fit so easily into his bed, into his life.

Checking the time, you unlock your phone, lower the brightness, and fire off a couple check-in texts to your friend and one to your mother asking if you completed your sacraments as a child and if she knows where your old prayer book is. You can’t believe this man is reigniting this in you and while you know no amount of good sex is going to fully pull you back into a toxic institution, you see the good in him and wonder if there is a world where the two of you can balance his faith and your more progressive views.

The next morning comes quicker than you had anticipated and light is streaming through the sheers covering the floor to ceiling windows. You glance over to see a still sleeping Doyoung, surprised once you check the time, knowing he probably starts his day at the office before you. You check your phone, frustrated at how quickly it will soon be the time when your boss is checking in to see if you are working from home or coming into the office. You send off a quick message to let them know you will have a late start to the day, working from your apartment.

They reply with a teasing tone, noting that you and your friend must have gotten into some fun the night prior since she had called off entirely. Oh boy, couldn’t wait to hear about that.

You roll over, seeing Doyoung’s eyes open in narrow slits, running a wet tongue over his dry lips.

“Morning star,” he smiles at you, placing that same strong hand on your lower back, pulling you gently closer to him.

“Hi,” you squeak out, giggling as his fingers brush lightly over your spine, tickling you.

“Can I make you coffee?” he asks, pressing lips softly to your temple, holding there and breathing in the scent of your hair, still faintly holding the floral notes from his shampoo.

“You don’t have morning prayers to get to?” you tease, pushing your lips towards his, silently asking for a kiss.

He pulls back, knitting his brows together and almost rolling his eyes.

“You really have me all wrong you know,” he starts, pushing strands of hair from your face before cupping your cheek gently, just as he had in the kitchen last night when you first got back.

“Yes, I have my beliefs and values that ground me. But that doesn’t mean I abstain from every activity marked as a sin in the bible,” he continued, his voice even and strong but not mean.

“I would have thought that would have been obvious by everything we did last night,” he added, pressing a little more firmly on your lower back, gliding his palm down to the slope of your ass to grasp at the skin there.

You gulp audibly, startled by his candid admission. Maybe you did have him all wrong. Maybe you judged this book by the cover too quickly, your opinion shadowed by everything you knew from the devout adults you had grown up around. You had always assumed it was black and white, no gray space between for any compromise.

All you could do in that moment, overcome with emotions you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge, was pull him close to you and connect your hips with his to slowly create friction between the two of you. You hungrily captured his lips in yours, sighing into him as his fingers gently tugged your hair and brought you to another two unholy orgasms.

–

You don’t bother showering again, opting to take Doyoung up on that ride home from his driver who arrives in less than fifteen minutes, despite the morning rush hour traffic. You’re soon stepping out onto the busy streets, feet back in those painful boots and coat wrapped tightly around you to cover your revealing outfit you still can’t believe you wore out all night (but probably have to thank for this entire encounter).

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t a lost little angel!” comes a familiar voice, catching you as you are approaching the black car, the driver standing with a neutral expression waiting to open the door for you.

“Jungwoo, hey,” you start, stepping towards the man who is placing his motorcycle helmet on the seat, arms crossed as he leans gently against the expensive bike.

He’s wearing low rise leather pants with a matching belt adorned with a large silver buckle. His jacket is open and you can see a tight and cropped red shirt underneath, exposing much of his toned abs and navel. Nude color blocking rose up the sides of the shirt, covered in black crescent moons and he is wearing a stack of gold chains tight around his neck. A large green stone is dangling from his ear, moving as he speaks.

His hair is fluffy from the helmet, eyes smudged lightly with dark liner, most likely still from the night before. He looks absolutely unreal and your mind drifts to images of your friend pressed between him and the equally sexy Jaehyun in the crowded bar, stirring tension deep in your core.

“How was your night?” you add, stepping closer to him, curious about what your friend had gotten into.

“I’m sure just as sinful as yours by the look of this walk of shame,” he almost sneers back, tone unmatched to the large grin covering his face from his lips to his eyes. He grabs your phone from you and punches his number in, punctuating with a sultry wink. His eyes are flicking up and down your body dramatically, making overly exaggerated facial expressions at you.

You roll your eyes at him, turning to head to the car, wagging your fingers at him seductively and putting extra emphasis in your steps as you know he has his eyes glued to your ass as you slide into the car.

When Doyoung emerges from the shower with a towel tied low around his waist he finds Jungwoo lounging in his favorite chair in the living room, flipping through a magazine he had left here the week before. He looks up to make eye contact with Doyoung, smiling and letting a low whistle slide out his lips.

“Don’t start, Woo,” Doyoung warns curtly, pouring two cups of coffee and preparing them the way they both like.

“Look look, I have Father Lee on speed dial, he’s ready to do an emergency confession for you in the lobby of your office if you need it this morning,” he laughs back, closing the magazine and accepting the mug.

Doyoung rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to reach over and slap the back of Jungwoo’s head. He knows his friend is exaggerating but he had consequently already sent Mark a text that he would stop by the church later that day for a chat. Having one of your oldest friends be a priest that was known for being more on the liberal side had its perks.

“Just because I don’t flaunt my escapades all over town or upload racy videos into the shared DJJ iCloud album, doesn’t mean I’m not getting my dick wet,” he replies after a long sip of much needed coffee.

Jungwoo almost spits out his coffee at the vulgar comment, lips twisting up into a wicked smile as he watches his friend, relaxed and shirtless mid-morning on a work day.

“Something’s different about you, Kim Doyoung,” Jungwoo chuckles, tapping back into his conversation with Jaehyun from earlier, who had frantically texted him from the office that Doyoung hadn’t shown up for their morning meeting and wasn’t replying to any of his texts.

“I guess you could say I was touched by an angel,” Doyoung replies wickedly, winking at Jungwoo before standing and letting his towel fall from his hips, whipping it at leather clad knees before walking slowly back into the bedroom.

Jungwoo’s eyes widen and a smile spreads across his face, watching his friend’s toned ass move away from him and examining the red marks dotting his broad back.

“Oh Jaeeeeee, I have an idea for something that could be fun and oh so messy,” Jungwoo whispers into the phone as he steps out onto the balcony, lighting a blunt in the cool morning air, surrounded by the sounds of the bustling city below.

Part Two TEASER + Tag List NOW LIVE HERE

#doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct fanfic #religious trauma slay #djj x reader #djj smut #jungwoo smut #jaehyun smut

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