#i am having such a hard week already like not sure how I am supposed to get through the rest of this week to be honest

[honorhearted]

"I don't think there is a single thing in the world you could do to disappoint me, Benjamin Tallmadge."

He snorted. "Well, I certainly hope you'll remember this moment when you are, in fact, disappointed in me in the future. I'm quite the over-achiever, after all."

Penelope spoke of a son following in his footsteps, and despite the leap in his chest at such a thought, it was soon soured as Benjamin drifted to thinking of war, of destruction and pain and death, and his shoulders curled inward. "I should hope not," he murmured. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not share my stories with our children... I fought so they could be free, so they could be happy, and I don't wish for them to know any of the pain I've endured. Not even a moment."

Penelope, thankfully, seemed quite content to continue teasing him, so Benjamin latched on to the much lighter fare of conversation. With a snort, he asked, "How can I not compliment you? That seems like a double-edged sword, and I'm not about to risk displeasing my betrothed. Unless, of course, it leads to more untoward requests."

Penelope giggled, leaning into his touch with a gentle incline of her neck. "If leaving you now is so difficult, I can't imagine how hard it will be once we are properly wed."

"We'll never leave the house," Benjamin agreed, chuckling. "And if anyone trespasses during our honeymoon, I'll be certain to greet them with a musket. I think I've earned the right to be possessive of my wife. If they wish to hold an audience with you, they can wait in line." Grazing his lips along her shoulder, he muttered, "Unfortunately for them, I am the only one granted permission to enter that coveted queue."

Penelope hummed. "Do you really think anyone would even notice if I just stayed here forever? Surely, Mama is far too enraptured in planning the wedding to notice and its not as though anyone would miss me otherwise."

Benjamin fought back a groan. "Don't go giving me any ideas... I'm serious, Pen, I'm at the point where I'd rather just kidnap you for a week, and then claim a loss of sanity." He shrugged. "We're already engaged, but that at least would ensure that you have to marry me."

Penelope followed his glance toward the clock. "I suppose I cannot delay for much longer, so this is where we must part. The weeks ahead are sure to be long and arduous."

Benjamin grimaced. "You don't know the half of it...I'm afraid men are the far weaker of the two sexes, so I'll be in the direst of straits."

Turning to face him, Penelope smoothed her palms along his chest with a pout. "Promise you won't forget about me in the time we're apart?"

"Impossible," he vowed. "I'll be thinking of you each and every waking moment, slowly being driven to madness." Dropping a kiss onto her forehead, he lowly added, "I hope it isn't too much to hope for the same?"

--

Within a week's time, Benjamin found himself in Penelope's presence again. Her mother was distracted with God only knew what -- it seemed that marriages of the ton were quite the affair -- and despite his good cheer, he kept pacing around the room.

"I'm so bloody nervous," he confessed. "If my assumptions are correct, Father will be arriving sometime today, and I just... I'm unsure of what to expect." He halted in his restless trek, turned, and then glanced toward Penelope with a low breath. "I never told you this, but I essentially ran away from home... Not because of anything I did, but rather, because I couldn't face the pain of losing my brother. So I did the cowardly thing, and I left my father all alone."

Shoulders hunkering, Benjamin looked down at his boots in shame. "I've written to Father, of course -- I'm not that cold-blooded -- but I imagine he must still be hurt. And I want him to love you so very much, but...what if I've already ruined everything before it's even had a chance to begin?"

If I'd known from the start how we would've ended up, I'm not so certain I would have ever been a gentleman.

"I find that hard to believe. Even in the throes of passion, you're a perfect gentleman." Pen quirked her lips into a sweet smile, a renewed flush creeping onto her cheeks. She knew she was lucky to have found someone like Ben, and that such a someone loved her as intensely as she loved them. Pen had nearly accepted the fact that her life would most likely be devoid of love. She might learn to love a husband, if she had been fortunate enough to find a man willing to marry her, but she had never expected to find a love match. And yet she had been proved wrong time and time again.

"Yes, actually." She teased, arching her brows in defiance. "I would like you to reenact the story of the handsome, charming foreign soldier who seduces the insipid wallflower with his smile and devilishly sharp wit. Are you familiar with that one?" Perching her hands on her hips, she tried to maintain a neutral expression but she found it hard when her body was still thrumming with electricity. "I don't think there is a single thing in the world you could do to disappoint me, Benjamin Tallmadge."

You know I love it when you give commands. Pen bit at the inside of her cheek to suppress a grin. She'd been told on multiple ocassions that she had a tendency to be too bossy. She liked to be in charge of things, especially when so much of her life seemed to be entirely out of her control. Whistledown had afforded her the luxury of controlling the narrative of scandals in the ton, but there were often times her pride spilled over.

"Is that so? I do enjoy giving commands every once in a while. I think it runs in the family. Perhaps, one day, a son of ours will follow in their father's footsteps. Though, I wouldn't mind if they decided to become little poets and authors instead."

Although she knew she would support her children in whatever endeavors they found themselves thrown into, Pen wasn't entirely eager to imagine her sons off to war. Even so, she refused to dwell on such a thing. Those were matters for the future, problems to be dealt with when they arose. For now, Pen was satisfied with living in the moment and planning for the near future instead.

"You must not give me so many compliments this soon. I'll hardly have any motivation to do better if you spoil me too much. Lucky for you, I'm a dutiful student."

Pen let out a soft giggle, reaching up to rest her hands on his arms. The idea of going a single day without him was tortuous, even though she knew it would be worth the wait. If they were to behave properly, it could be weeks until she felt his arms around her again. She was sure she would go insane in that much time, but at least she would be able to relish in the memory of him until then. The idea of a special marriage license was terribly tempting, but Pen knew that it would be near impossible to get. A lady of the ton marrying a foreigner was not likely to earn a favorable compliance by Her Majesty. Instead, she resigned herself to her fate. If nothing else, it would prove to be a good practice of patience.

"If leaving you now is so difficult, I can't imagine how hard it will be once we are properly wed." She sighed, nuzzling into his touch. Although Pen was determined to not be an overly needy or nagging wife, she had a feeling she would be following him around like a puppy for most of the honeymoon--and long after, as well. She had spent her entire life searching for a place to belong and now that she'd finally found it in Ben's arms, she wasn't in a rush to part with the feeling.

"Do you really think anyone would even notice if I just stayed here forever? Surely, Mama is far too enraptured in planning the wedding to notice and its not as though anyone would miss me otherwise." Even as she teased, Pen knew there was some truth behind her words. Her mother was enjoying the party planning aspect of the wedding and Pen didn't mind handing over the reigns since such a thing was far too overwhelming to handle. All she wanted was to hide away from the world and be with her fiancé.

"I suppose I cannot delay for much longer, so this is where we must part. The weeks ahead are sure to be long and arduous." Turning around to face him, Pen whined, lips puffed out into a pout. "Promise you won't forget about me in the time we're apart?"

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[peppermintmochafem]

<3

[talaok]

Acting Normal

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javi’s been thinking about that night every minute of every day, while you're acting like it never even happened, and if he doesn't do something about it, he's gonna lose his mind.

warnings: smut| fingering, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being a simp, sex in the workplace, (it's not public but there's a possibility of getting caught)

a/n: I already know what to write for part 3, this couple is my new obsession lol

This is a part 2 to this story, but it can be read alone

Javi

This was really important stuff

He was really supposed to be listening

He was paid to listen to it,

that's what he kept repeating himself,

and yet- yet if someone asked him to repeat whatever Carillo was saying, he couldn't have spit out one singular word.

But it wasn't his fault, not really.

You must have been doing it on purpose, there was no way you were doing all that just accidentally.

Your lips were wrapped around the lollipop in a way that left nothing to the imagination- he could feel those lips on him, he knew how soft and sweet they were from kissing them, but around him... oh they would feel even sweeter, he was sure-

"If you're not gonna listen to me then why am I even here?"

It took Javier much too long to realize what Carillo had said

"I'm listening" he stated with enough confidence to fool anyone- except he was talking to one of the few people that could see right through his bullshit.

"I'm surprised you haven't done it yet" the Colonel shook his head, blowing out a cloud of smoke "I thought she would have given in by now"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Carillo couldn't help but laugh.

"You've been obsessed with her since she first arrived"

Javier hadn't even noticed that his gaze was back on you... or that his colleague had spoken again.

"yeah," Carillo chuckled, patting Javi's back "I'll just talk to Murphy"

And that was that, Carillo was gone, and Peña was left at a desk at the corner of the room, staring at you with the intensity with which a lion watches a gazelle.

He didn't know what the fuck to do.

To be completely honest with himself, he'd made a fucking mess.

He'd always been attracted to you, I mean there's not much of you that any man could find not hot, and sure, he'd spent about a year flirting with you as you rolled your eyes at him... but that's just how he was- he never thought it'd ever actually happen- and now...

Now he was fucked

You seemed so incredibly normal around him, like that night a week ago had been just a perfect dream, while him- fuck he couldn't even look at you without picturing how perfect you looked from between your tighs.

He'd thought he could manage to just do it that one time, to get it out of his system... what a stupid fucking bastard- he'd only made everything ten times worse.

And the worst part was that you didn't seem affected by it, not even a little bit- like now, there you were, looking all concentrated and everything, your brows furrowed, your bare legs crossed, one of them swinging ever so often, and your lips... your lips wrapped around the candy were an image sent straight from heaven.

Fuck- he was half fucking hard just by looking at you.

He needed to do something- now- or he was gonna go fucking crazy.

__ __ __

"can I have a talk with you for a moment?"

He was leaning over your desk, not doing a great job of masking his desire.

You, on the other hand, hadn't even looked up from the paper before you.

"what's up?"

what's up?

He'd made you squirt on your boss' desk for fuck's sake, and you tell him what's up??

"Just something I think you could help me out with, in the evidence room"

"now?" you winced, finally looking at him

"Yeah now"

__ __ __

"so what is it? did they misplace a file again-"

"How are you acting so normal?"

A gasp fled your mouth as you turned around and found him but an inch from you

"Jesus" you breathed "what are you talking about?"

"and who even eats lollipops past the age of five?"

He took a step closer and you took a step back, only for your back to hit the wall.

He'd cornered you.

"what is going on with you?" you hissed, only for him to take another slow step, and place his hand on the wall, right next to your head

"you, that's what's going on with me" his breath was fanning over your mouth, images of last week's night flashing both your minds "I've had the best sex of my life with you, and you're acting like it was just another Tuesday night"

"I-"

"I can still taste you on my tongue, I can still feel you around me, and you look at me like I'm nothing more than a fucking colleague y/n"

"Javier-"

"And then" he chuckled darkly, interrupting you once again "and then you have the nerve to suck on a fucking lollipop right in front me-"

A soft laugh couldn't help but bubble up your throat at that.

"Did that seriously... turn you on?"

"So what if it did?" he purred, his left hand finding your waist and forcing you off the wall and flush against him, against the blatant proof of his arousal.

You gasped, your hands clutching the shirt covering his chest.

"you're worse than a hormonal teenager"

His eyes sparked with malice as he bent down, his mouth skimming your mouth and cheeks, leaving shivers in his passage, until he pressed his lips right below your ear.

"A hormonal teen that made you squirt for the first time in your life"

"Javier-" your voice had already reduced to a thread of a whimper.

Fuck him and his irresistible sex appeal.

He was right, no one had ever made you feel as good as he had, and as much as he thought you weren't affected by that knowledge, he'd be shocked to find out how difficult it proved not to squirm every time he merely looked at you.

Yes, of course you were constantly thinking about that night too.

"Tell me you don't think about it"

He was like a mind reader

You stayed silent, conscious that any response you could give would inevitably give you away.

"That's what I thought" A snicker rumbled from his chest, his hand moving from your waist to slide underneath the hem of your skirt.

You hummed, your brain only half functioning as he continued to trail hot wet kisses down your throat.

"W-what are you doing?" you tried to speak normally without success.

"what does it look like I'm doing?" he smirked, his hand now fully cupping your clothed core, making you whine "What I've been thinking of doing for a whole damn week- so I don't lose my mind"

Two of his fingers were circling the wet spot on your panties when a phone rang from the other room, making your eyes snap open.

What the fuck were you doing?

You were at work- anyone could come in at any moment.

"Javier wait," you said, finally getting your voice back to normal.

"what is it, sweetheart?" from the way his eyes were still a thousand shades darker and blatantly staring at your mouth you could have guessed the danger of being caught didn't trouble him one bit.

"We can't"

He groaned frustratedly then, his head falling between your neck and shoulder

"why not sweetheart?"

"are you serious?" a quick laugh bubbled up your throat "we're at work"

"so?"

"so?" you parroted, only your voice was heightening with exasperation "so anyone could catch us at any given moment"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips, the hand that was still on your wall going to your waist to get you flush against him

"Are you ashamed of me sweetheart?" he teased

"Well, to be completely honest having sex with the biggest slut in Columbia isn't exactly my highest moment"

He feigned a gasp, his hot breath fanning over your own parted mouth

"Me? A slut?"

"yeah, you" You couldn't fight the smile pulling at your lips.

There he was, doing it again- making all your common sense fly out the window with his godforsaken charm.

"c'mon baby, I'll be quick"

And although you didn't want to, you could see yourself starting to consider his proposal.

"that's supposed to convince me?" you arched a brow, an amused smile pulling at your lips

"What, you think I can't make you come quickly?" he purred, his hand going to your ass in a swift move to grab at it.

You bit down a whine "Well I don't know"

"tell me you don't want it" he teased, the fingers on your core starting a torturous path up and down your still-clothed, but unbelievably drenched, slit "That you don't want this"

His fingers had trespassed your panties and had now found your raw skin, making you gasp

"anyone could come in us, including Messina" you added breathlessly

"I locked the door" he promised, his forehead on yours as his ring and middle finger gently found their way inside of you.

"a-and what if someone needs to get in?" you tried your best not to moan, but the way he curled his fingers made it so very fucking difficult

"then we'll tell them to fuck off" he murmured, his mouth now touching yours, but still not kissing you.

"If we get caught I'm gonna kill you, we clear?"

"yes ma'am" he smirked, his breath mixing with yours

"now- may I kiss you, baby?"

You rolled your eyes before answering "Yes, you may"

And just like that, he was devouring you, his lips crashing with yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to explore every inch of it, gaining dominance on your own in a matter of seconds.

"fuck I missed this" he groaned, his fingers suddenly speeding up and robbing you of all ability to tease him about his words "these fucking lips are gonna be the death of me"

Your mouth was open as you desperately tried to get oxygen to your lungs, but he didn't care, he took your bottom lip into his mouth and started sucking, his fingers fastening their pace as the filthy sound of your wetness bounced off the walls of the room.

"tell me you thought about it too" he growled, his palm making contact with your clit and forcing you to gasp as your hips started grinding onto it, onto his hand, sparks of pleasure staining your vision. "tell me I'm not the only crazy one baby"

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as you felt yourself grow closer to a release.

"shit- you look so fucking hot when you're about to come"

"I-" your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could feel the heat of his stare on you, the way his eyes never left you, not even as he kissed your neck, the soft stubble of his mustache tickling your skin "I've thought about it too javi"

The satisfied groan he let out told you just about everything you needed to know.

"When?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his fingers relentless

"A-always" you whimpered, "e-everytime I look at you"

shit- maybe you shouldn't have said that

"yeah?" a wolfish grin tugged at his lips "You think about me? about my cock? my fingers? my tongue?"

You mewled at his words, at the memory they brought with them, at how fucking good he was making you feel-

"J-Javi please"

"what?" he breathed, his mouth on yours again, your hips grinding shamelessly onto his hand "You're gonna come baby, 's that it?"

"y-yeah- fuck- I-"

he knew the signs by now, he knew those desperate breathless sounds you made just as you reached your peak- and god did he fucking love them

"come for me- come baby" he murmured, his lips crushing with yours to stifle your moans just as your walls spasmed around his digits- wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

Oh how he loved seeing the strong fiery woman he saw every day come apart beneath him, all your walls crumbling down 'till there was just pure lust and pleasure beneath your eyes, 'till your body went limp and clung to him for support.

"fuck" you breathed your eyes finally opening again, only to find that his had never left yours. "I-" you gulped, but his lips were on yours again, his hands holding your face on each side, his fingers now out of you.

"w-we should get back," you said, mostly trying to remind yourself, of where you really were, of what you were really doing... but it was all so difficult when he was looking at you like that- when you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans- the same one that had felt so fucking good inside of you.

"we should" he agreed, although a twisted grin played on his lips.

he was already kissing you again, exploring you again, and in no time you found yourself caged between him and a shelf filled with boxes of evidence, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck.

Damn him

"People are gonna start wondering where we are"

"we're here... looking at evidence," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his hips grinding onto you, his mouth on the corner of your lips.

"fuck- fine," you murmured, the need for him stronger than anything at this point, even than the fear of getting fired.

He didn't waste a second- his dick was out in a heartbeat, and your panties were pulled to the side before you had even time to breathe.

His tip, his red, glistening tip found your entrance, making you gasp.

"c-condom" you suddenly remembered, your voice so feeble it was almost inaudible "Please tell me you've got a condom"

"fuck- you're right" he muttered, frustration tracing his tone "I should have one in my wallet"

Of course he had one in his wallet

His left hand reached into his back pocket, finding his wallet and taking the condom out of it as quickly as he could, throwing the wallet somewhere to the side.

You were supporting yourself all on your own as he rolled the condom onto his dick, which might sound easy... but seeing the state of your leg it really was a miracle.

It was all so fast, he seemed desperate as he guided his tip to your entrance, as he gripped your waist and kissed your lips while entering you.

He was so fucking big, definitely the biggest one you'd ever encountered, and not only that... but he fucking knew how to use it too.

It was impossible not to moan, and for him, it was impossible not to groan- let's just say the possibility of getting caught wasn't first on the list of things in your mind at the moment.

"fuckfuckfuck" you whimpered, letting out a soft cry when he finally bottomed out

"Jesus Christ you feel fucking perfect" he growled, his eyes on yours, his hands gripping your waist as he tried his best to give you a moment to adjust and not start to fuck you like an animal right away.

"J-Javi"

And that, that little plead in your voice was all he needed to hear.

There was no way the sound of your skin slapping with his couldn't be heard from outside.

He felt so fucking good- criminally so.

"oh my g-" you had to bite down on something, and the little sliver of skin his shirt didn't cover right where his shoulder met his neck seemed much too perfect for your need.

He groaned, the bastard fucking groaned in pleasure as your teeth sank down into his skin, and you swore to god you could have come from that sound alone.

Your hands were laced between his neck, fingers taking hold of whatever hair you could grab, as he thrust up into you like a man starved, and you did all you could to meet his movements with the same urgency.

It had only been a week, and yet it felt like it'd been an eternity- a torturous, awful eternity of daying yourself of this.

"been thinking about this every fucking minute this week" his voice was breathy, hoarse, as he whispered to your ear "about this perfect fucking pussy of yours- about your mouth, about how- Fuck me-" his own growl interrupted him, your walls were squeezing him much too fucking tight "how good you taste, how hot you look when I'm eating you out- about this fucking perfect body of yours" he purred "Jesus christ you make me lose my mind"

You couldn't help but moan, moan at his words, at his pace, at the way his touch sent sparks flying in your belly- it was all too much.

"You've gotta be quiet baby" he murmured as you raised your head to look at him, to beg him for something- anything.

"I know sweetheart, I know" he breathed, his lips skimming yours "I know issa lot"

And to think you couldn't even stand him seven days ago... look at you now- looking into his eyes pleadingly as he fucked you in the evidence room.

"Javi" you could only breathe as his mouth crashed with yours once again, "I'm gonna-"

"I know"

Of course he knew

And just like that, you were over the edge, his tongue in your mouth muffling your cries as his thrust got more erratic, and somehow even more powerful.

Once again, he'd given you the best orgasm of your life.

He tried to hold off to let you ride it out, but fuck him it was proving to be real fucking difficult.

And then you opened your eyes- your beautiful, dreamy, eyes that he'd been dreaming of for days and there was no point in fighting it anymore-

"F-fuck y/n- fuck-"

There was a loud thud somewhere behind you, but neither of you cared enough to look, or god forbid stop- there was only you, you, and the spectacular groan Javier fed you into a kiss as he finally reached his climax.

There was only the sound of your breathing, both your heavy breathings as you looked at each other- and then you smiled, and he couldn't help but do the same.

And then all of the sudden the sounds from the office started flowing into the room again.

Oh right

"we really have to get back"

"yeah" he halfheartedly agreed, slowly setting you back on your feet, only in doing so, something caught your eye.

"fuck"

There were files on the floor- there were files on the floor because you'd knocked down some of the boxes of evidence- and you hadn't even noticed.

Javier followed your line of sight, but while panic was setting in your heart, he began to smile

"don't laugh!" you hissed, "what the fuck do we do? How do we explain this?"

"we don't" he simply shrugged, closing his zipper back up as you quickly tried to make yourself presentable.

"What?"

"we were never here- now, get back out there"

"I-"

"trust me" he said, retrieving his wallet from the floor.

And for some fucking reason, you did- you trusted him.

"I hate you so much" you muttered, finally exiting the room.

Tg:@fallout-girl219

[ahgasegotarmy116]

It's Hard to Believe | Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Getting pregnant with your best friend's baby definetly wasn't a part of the plan... Pairing: f!Reader x Jungkook (fwb, f2l) Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: A tiny bit of explicit and suggestive language but nothing crazy a/n: This is something I started writing at like midnight and it's kinda shit but I thought I might as well post it since I haven't posted in a while (Like five days short of a month wtf?!?!? How has it been that long?!?!) (I just barely checked rn lmao my bad 🥲) p.s. I kinda wanna do a full on series on a concept like this but it'll be different and less fluffy but that won't be happening for a long ass time but yeah lol Requested by a lovely anon 💜

"How am I supposed to tell him?" I ask my friend Sam for the millionth time since I found out. "Y/n just tell him. You guys have been friends for how long?" she asks and it's like I'm having deja vu from both of our responses. "Like ten years" I mumble and pull my sweatshirt sleeves down over my hands in an effort to stop my nervous fiddling but it only makes it worse. 

"Right and you guys have been messing around with each other for over a year now, maybe even more...I don't wanna know" she says while holding her hand up in a way to assure me that she doesn't need the details. "Just tell him. If he's as great of a guy as you keep on telling me he is then I promise everything will be okay" she says and places a hand on my shoulder before she gets up off my couch. 

"Where are you going?" I ask while she shrugs on her jacket. "Didn't you say he's supposed to be here around five?" she asks and I nod my head, checking the clock and seeing that it's already 4:30. 

"Yeah...are you sure you don't wanna stay and say hi?" I ask and she glares at me. "Let me know what his response is to that bun in the oven and then we'll talk. I wanna figure out if he's an asshole or not before I decide to waste anytime on him" she says while lacing up her shoes. 

"Promise me you'll tell him tonight?" she asks and lifts up her hood, getting ready to shield herself from the pouring rain outside. I nod my head reluctantly, that being way more progress than I've made for the past few weeks since I found out. "I promise" I utter under my breath and she smiles, pulling me in for a bone crushing hug. 

"Text me if you need me" she says, worried for what might happen but hoping for the best. "I will...thanks" I whisper and she nods her head before walking out of my door and turning slightly and waving to offer me one last farewell.

I close the door after I see her get into her car and lean my back up against it, steadying myself for a second and taking deep breaths, trying to stop my racing heartbeat before pushing off of it and tidying up before Jungkook gets here to distract myself. 

Sam has been the only one I've been able to count on and honestly the only person I can trust since I haven't told anyone else. She was the one I called when I missed my period and she's the one who brought me a pregnancy test...and then when out and bought me ten more because I couldn't actually grasp the concept that I was pregnant...am pregnant.

Jungkook and I have always been careful and taken all the necessary steps to keep this from happening but I guess we got careless this time. 

Through out this whole arrangement we've made it very clear to each other that we're not sleeping with anyone else but neither of us are looking for any sort of commitment either so that's why this has gone on for so long. 

Like it or not though we're going to be committed to each other in one way or another no matter what because I'm keeping this baby. No matter what he says I'm keeping them. 

Jungkook is my best friend, the one person who has been there for me through everything. He's seen me at all of my highest highs and especially at my lowest lows and no matter what he's never made me feel shitty about it. I know he's not the kind of guy that'll turn on you because of something like this but I can't help but still feel terrified. 

This wasn't supposed to happen but even if this child wasn't made with love from his side...it was made with love from mine. 

I don't know how long it's been since I fell in love with him but I know I shouldn't have said yes to this whole fuck buddy ordeal. I just couldn't stand the thought of him being with someone else so when he offered up the idea I said yes.

I figured that if this was a way to prevent him from getting his heart broken by all those sorry excuses of girlfriends he's had in the past then I guess I'll be okay with breaking mine.

He's been acting different lately though. He's been a lot touchier, asking to come over more often, going out of his way to help me with things, offering to feed me all the time and all of it is making me feel like he already knows. 

Does he know? Have I started showing already? I haven't really noticed a difference in my body yet but he looks at me naked a lot more often than I pay attention to myself naked so I mean I guess he could've noticed right? 

Only one way to find out though...

A half an hour later I hear him take out his keys and unlock my door and soon I'm greeted with a smile that tugs at my heartstrings. 

"Hi baby" he says, using that pet name he's become very fond of since this whole ordeal started. The sound of it after finding out I'm pregnant with his baby has made me a little uncomfortable though since I haven't told him yet. 

Don't get me wrong I love it when he calls me that but I can't help but think that if this goes south that he won't ever call me that again. 

Maybe the hormones have started to scramble my brain already because those uncomfortable feelings are quickly thrown away when I take in the sight of him after he shrugs off his rain coat. A simple black baggy hoodie and jeans engulf his form and the comfy sight just makes me want to curl up in bed with him and forget about everything and everyone.

Just him and I, it's always been him and I. I just don't know if this little one is going to change things. 

I place a hand on my stomach for a second as a way to gain some strength from my itty bitty baby before finally working up the courage to greet him.

"Hi" I greet him softly, walking over to where he's stopped to take off his shoes and when he looks back up at me he smiles again and kisses me. I sigh into it, savoring it for just a little bit longer and when it finally breaks he looks down at me with concern now written all over his face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, sensing that something's off right away from the just the small change in the way I kissed him. I hesitate for a second then simply hold out my hand for him to take and he does, following behind me as I lead him over to my couch. 

Getting this over with sooner rather than later is my best option right now so there's no reason to delay. 

He needs to know, he deserves to know.

We sit there in silence, longer than he would like us to since I can tell how tense his body has gotten in a matter of minutes. "Y/n you're scaring me" he whispers, not wanting to pressure me but relaying his feelings. 

I take a couple more deep breaths before finally starting. "I need you to listen to me and I need you to please not speak until I'm finished" I say while looking down at my lap, not being able to meet his eyes. 

He murmurs a soft 'okay' and waits for me to continue, taking one of my hands and placing it in his lap. He needs some form of physical contact to keep him grounded since he's not too sure what to expect and I let him, knowing I need some reassurance too. 

Even if I don't know what his reaction is gonna be, in this moment I need it more than ever.

"I guess there's really no right way to go about saying this because this wasn't supposed to happen so I'm just gonna come out and say it..." I start off and he squeezes my hand, encouraging me to keep going. 

"I missed my period...over a month ago...and I haven't had it since then" I say and finally look up at him where he has an unsure expression. It's not one that's mad or disappointed with what I've said thus far which is a good thing but more like he's trying hard to hold himself back so he can keep that promise. 

His hold on my hand hasn't loosened, in fact it's gotten even tighter and that gives me hope that we'll work this out so I take another deep breath before continuing. 

"I tried to kid myself into thinking that it was late but when another week passed by I got nervous. I asked Sam to get me a test and it came out positive. I didn't believe it and thought it was a false positive and so to ease my mind she went a bought ten more from a bunch of different brands and...all of them came out positive" I say and he still looks at me with that same expression, waiting for me to give him the okay to speak and so I do. 

"How long have you known?" are the first words out of his mouth and although they're not negative they aren't necessarily positive either. "About a month now" I say and he nods his head, taking another second or two to formulate what he's gonna say next. 

"I'll support you no matter what you decide" he says and I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding in. "I wanna keep it" I say and he nods his head and smiles softly at first and then as the seconds go by it gets wider and wider making my heart beat faster. 

"Am I allowed to get excited now?" he whispers and I can't help but chuckle as tears start to prickle my eyes and give him a nod. "You're excited?" I say, my whole being slowly overcome with emotion. 

"How could I not be?" he scoffs playfully but that answer has me confused. "But Jungkook we're not together. I mean we're not in a relationship, we're just friends" I explain and there's a playful glint in his eyes after I say that that's making me even more nervous.

"You wanna know what I thought you were gonna tell me?" he offers up, slightly changing topics but I look at him in a way to urge him to continue. "I thought you were gonna break up with me" he says and I smile, "Jungkook we're not together. How could I break up with you?" I chuckle in disbelief. 

"Correction, I thought you were gonna break up with me before I even got the chance to ask you to be my girlfriend" he says with a grin and my jaw drops, the dots all connecting as to why he's been acting so different lately. "You were gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?" I utter quietly as if we were in a crowed room and I had a secret for just the two of us.

"I had actually planned on asking you tonight" he explains, walking over to where he had placed his backpack on the floor, taking out a bouquet of slightly squished flowers. "Sorry they're all beat up. I forgot and rode my bike over here so I didn't really have any other option but to put them in there" he says almost as if he was nervous, rubbing the back of his neck and it's then that I notice how pink his ears have gotten. 

He is nervous

I take them from him and smile, waiting for him to say it but he simply stands there and admires me and I can't help but laugh. "What so funny? I told you what happened to them" he utters through pouty lips which only makes me laugh more. "No, no it's not the flowers it's just that...don't you have something to say?" I ask, calming down my chuckles and when he looks at me with the same confused expression I have to try my hardest to keep the laughter at bay. 

"Do you have something you would like to ask me Jungkook" I rephrase it and after a second his lips go from a pout to the shape of an 'O' as he's figured it out. "Oh um, yeah, right. Well I um" he starts off, rubbing the back of his neck again while stuttering and trying to find the words and after struggling for a second I decide to poke fun at him again. 

"Jungkook I am literally carrying your child and you're too afraid to ask me to be your girlfriend?" I laugh, giving him a slight reality check which he scoffs at before responding. 

"I was trying to remember what I had rehearsed to say to you but now that you're being a little brat I guess you'll never get to know all the nice things I was gonna say" he retorts, his voice suddenly taking on a darker tone that sends a shiver through my body and he smirks when he sees my reaction to it. 

He cups my face and rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, making them part and he leans in as if he was going to kiss me but stops just shy of my lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he whispers, nudging his nose against mine and making me smile. 

"I'll have to think about that" I play coy with him which he chuckles at. "You know if you weren't pregnant right now I would have thrown you over my lap for that smart mouth" he warns and I smile before leaning in and kissing him for just a second before pulling back. 

"Yes I'll be your girlfriend" I say and nudge my nose against his as well and before I can register it my back is on the couch and his lips are pressed against mine, the kiss not rushed but full of so many words that have yet to be said and he gives in, not being able to hold it in anymore.

"I love you" he says, pulling back and looking down at me to see my expression which is completely dumbfounded to say the least. "You what?" I ask and he chuckles, "Is it really that hard to believe?" he points out and I guess now that I think about it it really isn't.

"I guess we've both been in love with each other for a while now huh?" I smile and his eyes light up at my round about confession. "Say it" he says, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. I hadn't planned on actually saying those three words to him even though I've felt them for so long but I don't want to hold them back anymore. 

"I love you" I whisper and he smiles, "Say it again" he repeats, clearly not believing it just yet. "I love you Jungkook" I say and the little switch up with attaching his name to the end darkens his gaze. "I guess there's no chance in me getting you pregnant a second time right now huh?" he asks, sliding his hand up my thigh and I giggle. 

"No I think that's pretty much impossible but the odds are never zero" I say and he rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that I wanna hit it raw" he states the obvious while rolling his eyes. "I know I know...and the answer is yes Daddy" I tease, testing to see how that word affects him now that he knows.

He tongues his cheek at that making me bite my lip, knowing that's gonna be even more of a trigger word for him from now on. "Daddy huh? Well I guess that title is a little more fitting now isn't it?" 

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[buckets-and-trees]

Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.

However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏

CHOCOLATE

Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.

Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.

Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.

James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.

"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.

You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."

"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."

There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”

“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”

He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”

Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.

“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.

“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”

You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”

“I like that you miss me.”

You huffed but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m missing you, too,” he said.

“James…” you breathed.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.

“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.

Or at least tease him.

The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.

The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.

JAMES: You have my interest piqued.

You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.

YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.

Three dots appeared straight away, and then

JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.

YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?

Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.

JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.

At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.

But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.

Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.

JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.

Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.

Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.

A text alert broke your reverie.

JAMES: Five minutes.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.

The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?

"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."

You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."

He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.

You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."

His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”

He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”

“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.

"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."

You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.

"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."

You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.

He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.

You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.

"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."

He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."

His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."

You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.

Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.

He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.

"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."

His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.

"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"

In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.

With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.

Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.

You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.

"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."

Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."

With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.

"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.

You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.

You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.

"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."

With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.

You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”

You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.

“When I breed you.”

You gasped.

He groaned and curled his body down over your back.

Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.

“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”

You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.

He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”

You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.

He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.

“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.

You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”

He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.

“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”

He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.  

“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”

"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."

Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."

His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.

You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."

"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.

Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.

He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."

You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"

You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.

Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."

Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.

You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.

"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."

“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”

It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.

He wanted this.

He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."

His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.

"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."

As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.

"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.

You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.

"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."

He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."

His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."

You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.

He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”

“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”

“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.

He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."

You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.

"Open," Bucky murmured.

Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.

The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"

He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."

Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."

He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.

As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.

As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.

You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."

"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.

As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest Read more in the DEVOUR collection...

Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!

[reminiscingtonight]

Tech Support

Alexia Putellas & Putellas!Reader (Jana Fernández x Putellas!Reader)

Word Count: 1.2k

[WOSO Masterlist]

“So I am… supposed to click this?”

Alexia’s hand is swatted away at record speed before she can make contact with the screen.

“No, this one.”

Who would’ve thought. Captain of the country. Legend of your club. The La Reina may be feared by players worldwide, but even she could be beaten by something as simple as a new phone.

The two of you have been at this for a couple hours now.

When your sister first slid the box across the table at you, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. You didn’t even have time to thank Alexia before she crushed your dreams right then and there. What you first thought was a present for you turned out to be a resigned plea for help.

As the resident tech genius you were high in demand. Last week it was setting up your mami’s tablet. Yesterday it was fixing Olga’s laptop. And today it seems to be Alexia’s turn.

Though now that you think about it, “genius” may be a stretch. It’s not until the third time you stop yourself from throwing Alexia’s phone at her that she lets it slip that Alba was actually her first call for help. It’s no surprise to hear that your middle sister was quick to refuse, given that the last time she helped Alexia set up a phone resulted in heated words and staunch refusal to speak to one another for two weeks.

Given that she’s your club captain the loss in communication is something you can’t risk, but you’ve always thought of yourself as gifted when it comes to technology. If you could teach your mami how to use facebook without spamming her personal page with posts about you and your sisters, surely helping Alexia transfer her data and set up a new phone would not be too hard of a challenge.

Oh how you’re wrong.

Though you’re only eight years younger than Alexia, she still manages to struggle as if she’s well into her nineties.

Ask if she’s backed up her data? Might as well have told her to recite the first fifteen digits of pi.

Ask if she’s taken note of the apps she needs to redownload? Might as well have asked if she knew the secret to happiness.

Tell her to grant certain apps permissions to her phone? Might as well have told her you were transferring to Real Madrid.

Ask her to re-sign back into her multitude of accounts? Might as well have asked her to transfer to Real Madrid.

If you had known just how teeth pulling this would be, you would have left Olga to deal with Alexia herself.

Despite your clear and well-informed instructions of what to click where, which settings to enable or disable, Alexia kept bulldozing through your words, thinking she knew better.

Spoiler, she did not.

Jana’s already been by to give you some words of encouragement, but after the fifth time you quietly asked if she could make up an excuse to drag you out, she hunkered down on a nearby couch with Olga. The two of them, traitors at heart, are having a blast watching some trashy reality tv show while you struggle away with Alexia.

At this point you’re one more question away from factory resetting Alexia’s new phone, but a promise from Olga to buy you lunch and a burning desire to prove to Alba that you’re a better teacher than she is leaves you clinging to the last piece of sanity you have.

After what seems like an eternity, Alexia finally sits back from where she’s been hunched over your shoulder, poking and prodding at her phone.

“I still don’t understand why I have to set up a passcode when I could just use my fingerprint to unlock everything.”

The only word capable of describing Alexia at this moment in time is brooding. Arms crossed, face drawn in a frown, your thirty-year-old sister is brooding over your insistence at setting a passcode.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What if you’re at training and you need Mapi to pull up something from your phone while your hands are busy?”

Alexia huffs, smile on her face as she thinks she’s got you. “Simple, I would never trust Maria with my phone!”

“Ale!” you groan. “That’s not the point.”

She’s not wrong. The last person to mistakenly trust the blonde haired woman with their unlocked phone received the device back with fifteen added stories to their instagram account. Though that was on the tamer side of what the defender was capable of, no one’s really let her borrow their phone since.

You catch Jana’s twinkling eyes over the back of the couch as she shares a giggle with Olga.

“Okay, what if I get hurt on the pitch and you’re too busy consoling me? I’m sure Jana would appreciate being able to use your phone to call mami to let her know I’ve been hurt.”

Alexia rolls her eyes. “First, Jana already has mami’s phone number. Pretty sure she likes your girlfriend more than the both of us.”

The number of times Eli has called you just to ask if Jana would be coming over for a family dinner would be insulting if you weren’t smitten with the idea of your girlfriend having fit right into your own family. Though the two of you haven’t officially been together long, years of friendship meant Eli was more than delighted when she found out the two of you were together. It also meant she was quick to catch Jana up on any and all family events she was hosting.

“Also, that’s not a problem because mami never misses one of our games so she’d already be there!”

It’s almost as if Olga can see the steam coming out of your ears. She’s quick to walk over, rubbing you back apologetically before throwing an arm around Alexia’s shoulder.

“Would you please set one for me, amor? Sometimes I misplace my phone and yours is closer.”

It’s maddening the way Alexia instantly starts nodding like a lovesick puppy. She plucks the phone right out of your hands, swiping until she can get to the right screen.

From over Alexia’s shoulder Olga gives you a wink.

With her girlfriend wrapped tightly around her, you take your cue to exit.

Jana opens her arms wide and you enter willingly. The older girl chuckles when you instantly bury your face against her stomach, arms tightening around her legs.

“I wanna go home,” you grumble, ignoring the way you can feel the vibrations of Jana’s laughter.

“Don’t you wanna stay for lunch?”

As much as you loathe the hours wasted on Alexia, the promise of free sushi did sound pretty good. All you have in your fridge is some leftover pasta from the night before, and you’re never one to pass up free food.

“Hermanita, what’s this I’m seeing about unlocking my phone with my face?”

You stiffen.

On second thought, leftovers didn’t sound too bad.

[rosylix]

flower

짙은 어둠 속에 피어난, 한 송이 꽃처럼 𔓘

after practicing with felix, you try to go back to normal. unfortunately, the universe doesn't seem to want that for you.

pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader

wc: 7.3k

content: two pining idiots, inexperienced reader, fluff! (but make it awkward), slight angst, smut?ish, only one bed trope kinda lol, wet dream (like kinda somno? not really but just in case), 'dude' is used gender neutrally. umm yea! college au

a/n: so i got a bit carried away and added way more plot than necessary here. woops. also made it a college au bc why not! kinda made them nerds sorry lol (they were always nerds.)

so this is the first segment of the final part. aka part 3 but there will be a part 4 [dizzy emoji].. for now i hope you enjoy this bit! 𖹭

[also read on ao3]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

—

A week passes, and contrary to your expectations, the two of you actually do go back to normal. At least, Felix seems to have, so even if your brain still feels a little funny around him you follow suit and pretend nothing happened.

Not that it's been easy. Especially when his neck was still covered in those stupid marks you left. Thankfully, he can cover them up pretty well (you know, considering the state you left him in) but it was still irritating as hell; seeing the shape of one just barely peeking out of his hoodie or the way you’d find your eyes instinctively drawn to his neck whenever you saw him throughout the week.

The marks have faded to the point of being barely visible, but they're permanently seared into your brain, along with the memory of him underneath you. But that’s all it is now, a memory. You make sure of it.

And it's fine. Mostly. It’s easy enough to ignore any lingering awkwardness by focusing on more important things. For instance, midterms are coming up, and Felix is losing his mind.

He’s sprawled out on the floor of his room, papers spread out around him and a pout on his lips. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m gonna have to study all weekend,” he whines, throwing his pencil down in frustration. He’s been studying for hours and he’s already at the ‘pulling his hair out’ phase.

“Yeah…” you agree with a half sympathetic, half amused smile. He always gets like this around exam time. 

He lets his head fall onto the ground in front of him, narrowly avoiding the various papers, pencils, and textbooks littering the floor. "Why do they have to make these fucking tests so hard? It's not like the stuff we're learning is even relevant to anything. Oh my god. I'm gonna fail,” he says, voice muffled from under the carpet.

“You’re being dramatic,” you laugh as you toss the textbook you’d been reading for your own class aside.

Felix groans and (dramatically) turns over on his back. “I am not being dramatic. I’m suffering!” he exclaims, bringing his hands to cover his face. “I am dying. I’m a dead man and you don’t care. You're gonna have to plan my funeral after this.”

You roll your eyes. “Ohh nooo. You have to study over the weekend. It’s the end of the world.”

He peeks out from under his hands to glare at you. “I'm glad this is so amusing to you. You're supposed to be my best friend but you're doing nothing to help. Wow. I’ll haunt you when I'm dead after this.”

You laugh and roll your eyes again. This time, your eyes seem to catch on how his hoodie is pushed up above his waist a little from when he flopped onto the floor, showing a sliver of skin. 

...Seriously? Focus. Think about literally anything else right now.

Shaking your head, you slide off the bed and make your way to him, sitting down and crossing your legs next to his head. “Sit up and I’ll help you study,” you sigh.

"But I don't wannaaaa,” he whines, but he starts to sit up anyway. “I just wanna relax,” he pouts like a child, looking up at you with his signature puppy eyes. “Help me procrastinate instead?”

You laugh in disbelief. “You've procrastinated enough. Shouldn't you focus?”

(You haven’t been very focused either, but that's besides the point.)

He shakes his head fervently and slumps against you with a groan. “Nooo. Stop being responsible. Let's take a break.”

You huff, choosing to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster when he leans against you. “You’re so annoying,” you say, trying to sound frustrated but you can’t help if it comes out a little fondly. “Alright, fine. We have been at it for a while,” you admit.

He pulls back and grins, all too familiar with your inability to deny him when he’s being a big baby like this. It's too effective. It’s actually a little infuriating how good he is at being cute, and how effective it is on you. You cave. Every time. Though, this time he looks particularly pleased with himself.

“See? Even you couldn’t be the responsible one for that long,” he snickers. “I knew you’d give in.”

You groan and look away, as if that will somehow counteract his point. “You're a bad influence.”

He laughs again, shifting backwards before flopping back down to the floor, but this time he lays his head in your lap, smiling up at you. The close proximity has your heart fluttering in your chest and you swear you can feel yourself overheating a little. Why is he like this?

This is normal. It’s normal. Chill.

He grins up at you, oblivious to your internal crisis, and he makes himself more comfortable in your lap, shifting his body a little. "There. See? Isn't this so much better than studying?"

You swallow. The warm weight of his head in your lap, the way he peers up at you through thick lashes, hair falling around him like a halo, some of it falling into his eyes... It's— it's something.

You clear your throat, gently pushing him off, ignoring his little frown as you do so. You stand up and extend your hand down to him and sigh. “Come on. Let's go procrastinate then.”

“Ugh, why—” he starts to protest but you grab his hand and help pull him up anyway. “What are you doing? I was comfy,” he pouts.

You give him a sly look. “So, you don't wanna make cookies with me?”

You have to resist the urge to laugh at the look on his face. “Wait, really?” He perks up instantly, eyes glowing.

“Yeah, I mean, if you want,” you smile.

He bounces on his feet. “Yes! Can we make the ones with the white chocolate chips? The store finally had them when I checked last time.”

You make a face of mock disgust as he starts pulling you towards the door. “No, we are not making the ones with white chocolate chips. They're atrocious.”

“What?!” he gasps, acting scandalized. “Fuck you. They're good!”

You roll your eyes at him as he pulls you into the kitchen. He’s still holding onto your hand. It should be normal, but since when has anything felt normal these past few days?

“White chocolate chips are fine! I don’t get why you don’t like them,” he continues with a pout, finally letting go of your hand to rummage through the kitchen cabinets.

“They're not even chocolate, Felix,” you point out, watching in amusement as he struggles to reach the top shelf.

“Okay? I'm failing to see your point," he replies, making a little noise of triumph when he finally reaches whatever he’s looking for.

You just shake your head. “Yeah, whatever…” You help him set some things on the counter before sighing. “You're so lucky your dorm has a kitchen. If I had one I swear I'd be baking stuff like every single day.”

“I guess I am lucky.” He laughs, grabbing the mixing bowl from the corner cabinet and placing it on the counter. “Isn't there a shared one for your floor or something?”

“Yeah, but it's…” you shudder.

“Ah. Yeah…” He pauses, pondering something, before raising an eyebrow. “So that's why you come over so much? For the kitchen?”

“Duh.”

"I knew it… You’re only using me for free oven access?” he teases. "I’m wounded.” He drapes his hand over his forehead in a dramatic flourish and slumps against the counter.

“Yep, you caught me,” you laugh. “You and Hannie keep it somewhat clean at least.”

“My own best friend… The betrayal…” he tries to pout but ends up giggling. Then, he seems to think of something and claps his hands excitedly. “You should move in with me!”

Whoa. “W-What?”

“You know how Jisung is always over at Minho's? He's gonna officially move in next year,” Felix explains. “Like, I'm happy for them but Sung's ditching me? What happened to the bro code? But, anyway,” he laughs. “There'll be an empty bedroom. You should totally take it!”

You blink at him, brain short-circuiting for a second. "You— you’re serious?"

"Yeah," he says casually, like he didn’t just propose something so life-altering. "It’ll be like a sleepover every night!” he exclaims, grinning widely.

You can’t help the way your heart thuds a little faster in your chest, a fluttery feeling in your stomach. Living together? With Felix?

The idea is tempting. Like, incredibly so. Your own place is small, the communal kitchen area is… horrific, and your roommate tends to ignore your existence. It's a bit less than ideal.

But… you know there's a big risk of things becoming very awkward very quickly. It sounds like a dream, and at the same time, it’s a recipe for disaster. Spending that much time together could either bring you closer or push you apart. And with your recent… weirdness.. about him… you’re not sure which one is worse.

You must be silent for too long because Felix glances at you and looks a little unsure, like he suddenly regrets saying it. “I mean— you don’t have to, of course! It was just an idea. I’m sure you’re comfortable in your place and all. I didn’t mean to, like, push that on you—”

You cut him off before he can go too far. “No! No, it’s—” you shake your head, trying to choose your words carefully. “I… I'll think about it.”

He looks surprised, like he wasn't expecting that response. He lets out a breath, relief and a tentative excitement evident on his face. 

“Okay,” he says softly, the corners of his mouth twitching a bit like he’s trying to keep himself from breaking into a big smile. “Uh, yeah, of course. No pressure,” he continues. “But, y'know, I'd be way happier to have you than some random new person. You practically live here already anyway. I think it'd be fun.”

Or it could ruin everything. But when Felix smiles at you, a hopeful look in his eyes… you can't bring yourself to shut down the idea completely.

“Yeah. It might be fun,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral.

He grins, and a wave of excitement suddenly washes back over him. "We can bake all the time, and play games, and watch movies— Oh my god, it would be so fucking awesome.”

You laugh at the sparkle in his eyes. "Yeah, okay," you tap his head with a mixing spoon. “Shut up and grab the sugar. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Yessir.”

—

You end up splitting the cookie dough and making half with normal chocolate chips and half with the ugly white sugar chips. They turned out better than they had any right to be, considering you and Felix goofed off a bit too much while making them. (Even the white chocolate ones are pretty good). The two of you munch on them as you return to studying. Felix doesn't argue, content having taken a long break and sugar in his system.

You work in comfortable silence, listening to the soft pitter patter of rain until the sun starts to set. With a yawn, you shut your laptop in front of you.

"I think I'm done for today," you say, standing up and stretching.

Felix glances up from his spot on the floor, chin in his hand, surrounded by a mess of books and papers. "Really?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

He sighs, leaning back and stretching. "I still have so much left to go through," he complains, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"That's your own fault for playing games all week instead of studying," you laugh softly.

He pouts at you. "I know, I know." Then he groans and falls backwards on the floor, throwing his arms over his face. "Man, I'm tired. I'm done too."

You giggle at the sight of him splayed out on the floor. “Alright, cool. I should be heading out anyway,” you say, starting to gather your things. Then, as if on cue, a loud rumble of thunder echoes outside.

Oh shit. You both glance at each other, then towards the window, where the rain you thought would have passed by now is quickly developing into a full-on storm. Great. The universe must be out to get you.

Felix gets up from the floor and walks to the window. "Damn, can you even go home in this? It looks pretty bad out there.”

You join him at the window and peer outside. The rain is coming down harder, droplets hitting against the windowpane incessantly. You grimace. Well, it's not that bad, but it still isn't something you'd like to walk through.

Oh well. You sigh. “It's.. it's alright. Could I borrow an umbrella?”

He doesn’t answer right away, continuing to peer out the window. A frown spreads across his face before he speaks. “Of course, but… are you sure? You can stay the night if you want.”

“Uh—”

Well… normally, you wouldn't mind. You've slept over tons of times before. But this time feels different, and suddenly the thought of staying is a bit nerve-wracking. 

"A little rain won't kill me,” you settle on saying. 

Felix glances back at you, eyebrows furrowing in concern. He looks like he's about to say something, but another crash of thunder interrupts him.

He frowns and crosses his arms, leaning against the frame of the window. It's undeniably attractive. “A little rain? I can't let you walk home in this, are you crazy? It's dangerous.”

“But—” you start to protest.

"Nope,” he cuts in. “You’re not risking it. It's getting dark too,” he points out. He looks outside, then back at your face, sighing. His face softens. “...Okay. If you really want to go, at least let me walk you.”

“You don't have to walk me, Felix.”

“Yeah, I kinda do. Who knows what could happen to you? You could get struck by lightning! Or…” He gives you a once over. “You could, like, slip and bleed out in a puddle or something. Or die of hypothermia or some fucking thing. I don't know!” He throws his hands up.

You let out a breathless laugh. You don’t want to argue with him, but staying the night is definitely making you anxious to think about. You don't want to trouble him with walking back and forth in that weather either, but Felix seems stubborn on the matter. What's worse, the look on his face has you worrying he might think you're trying to get away from him or something.

(Which isn't… wrong. But Felix would misunderstand. It's not because you don't like him. It's…)

You exhale, looking outside one more time. With the rain getting worse by the minute, staying the night seems like the only reasonable choice. 

Felix taps his foot impatiently, observing the growing storm. “So?”

“Okay, fine. I'll stay… You're right, it's getting pretty bad out there," you concede.

He opens his mouth but then quickly shuts it again, suddenly looking a bit unsure. He studies your face and you almost want to hide at how intently he's staring. Why, why is he staring like that? Like he can see right through you. Didn't you just say what he wanted? Did he change his mind about letting you stay?

But, the moment passes before you can do anything and he looks away. "Thank god,” he huffs. “I was really fighting off the mental images of your dead body in a ditch.”

You scoff. “I'm not that weak.”

“I know,” he says with a soft smile. Then he smirks, glancing back at you. "You're not weak. Just clumsy.” 

You shove him in response and he laughs, the smirk on his face turning into a grin. The tension from earlier dissolves a bit and you can finally breathe again; the air starts to feel less awkward, comfortable.

“So,” he says, standing up straight. "Since you're staying, want some clothes to change into? I don’t think you wanna sleep in jeans.”

He doesn't wait for an answer, already shuffling through his drawer and handing a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants over to you.

You take them gingerly, trying to ignore how your nerves suddenly spike again. "Thanks," you murmur, clutching the soft fabric in your hands.

Maybe he senses something because he keeps his distance, eyes roaming over your face once more, curiosity and something else in his gaze. 

Then, he clears his throat. “You know the bathroom is all yours if you need,” he says, turning back to his mess of papers on the floor. “I'm gonna try to get a little more studying done. Maybe. I'm really fighting the urge to open League right now.” 

"Felix," you raise your eyebrows at him with a laugh, "If I find you mid ranked match in twenty minutes, I'm pouring water on your computer."

He purses his lips. “You wouldn't.”

“Try me,” you taunt and make your way to the bathroom. You close the door behind you and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

That was good. See? You can banter with him and everything like normal. There's nothing to be weird about. You can be normal about this.

You sigh. Yeah, right. This is so dumb. You’ve stayed over countless times before. You’ve worn his clothes before, shared a bed with him before. It's just Felix.

So why… Why is it so hard to be normal right now?

(You're not so stupid you don't know the answer to that. You're definitely in denial about… something, and you'll gladly stay that way for as long as you can help it. It's easier to not think about it.)

Your head hurts. God. Maybe a shower will clear your mind.

It does. You feel lighter and refreshed when you step out and you quickly change into the clothes Felix gave you; his scent envelopes you as you slip on the shirt and you instantly feel more at ease, comforted. You're good. Everything's cool.

When you step into Felix's bedroom, you find him exactly where you left him, leaning on a pile of pillows on the floor, hunched over a textbook. True to his word, he's trying to study again but he looks like he's seconds away from giving up.

"Hey,” you announce your entrance. “Successfully resisting the clutches of League?” you ask, giggling at the sight of him sprawled on the floor.

“Heyyy,” he drawls, not looking up from his book. “Proud of me? I'm actually studying. Not like I'll ever reach silver no matter how much I fucking—”

His words seem to die in his throat as he finally glances up and sees you standing in the doorway. His eyes widen instantly, scanning up and down your body, lips parted in shock.

"That's, um, um. That's—” he stutters, tongue tied all of a sudden. 

You frown a bit at his reaction, feeling self-conscious. Is your hair too flat? Are the clothes not right? You adjust the falling neckline of the shirt before taking a seat on the floor, trying to ignore the way he's still staring.

You swear you see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and he quickly looks away as you sit next to him.

“...What?” you ask, trying not to assume the worst.

“You— uh, the,” he gestures to your outfit vaguely. “It fits, uh— better? Than it used to? Yeah. Looks nice.”

He sounds a bit strangled and now you're definitely convinced you look strange.

“Um, thanks…" you mutter, trying not to show how thrown off his reaction has you feeling. You toy with the hem of the soft material self-consciously. Obviously they don't fit properly, they’re Felix’s clothes after all. You’ve borrowed them before, why is he suddenly being so weird?

Felix fidgets with the corner of his textbook, avoiding eye contact as if the words on the pages are suddenly the most interesting thing he’s ever read.

He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, anyway. I'm pretty much done. Was just waiting for you.” He closes the book and finally lifts his eyes to meet your gaze and he has a strange, shy smile plastered on his face. You open your mouth to ask if he’s alright, but he starts speaking again, barely giving you a moment to get a word in.

“I— Dude, I'm like— I'm honestly gonna fail this class,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “Like, I'm actually just not built for academia. I’m gonna drop out and then start working at the… fucking convenience store or something.” He lets out a long sigh. “Or, y'know, I'll start streaming. That seems pretty nice. I could be, like, a huge streamer guy. Tons of people will watch. I'll be famous. You could be my manager.”

You blink, trying to make sense of the sudden topic change. 

“Uh, First of all,” you say, gently knocking his knee with your own, “You're smart as hell. You'll graduate just fine. Second, I highly doubt many people would suddenly start watching some nerd’s League streams.”

He whines and gives you a pouty look. “Why not?? I’m funny, I’d be great,” he protests, sitting up with a huff.

“Yeah, right. I’d be managing a streamer who can’t even get to gold rank. Embarrassing.”

He scoffs, acting offended. “Hey! I didn’t say I'd make League streams. I could be a variety streamer, y’know.”

“Oh yeah? So you can stream how fast you lose at every game?” you say, grinning at his sulky expression. You understand him, the way he teases you all the time. It's fun when you're not on the receiving end. 

He places a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Wow,” he deadpans. “Can’t believe you're attacking me like this in my time of despair.”

You grin a bit and roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Stop being dramatic, you know I’m right. You need to get better if you want to start your streaming career.”

“Dude. I could get to gold if I wanted to. I just... choose not to. Bronze is a good rank, y’know. It’s like, the vibe.” The pout returns on his face. “Plus, my viewers wouldn’t care about that. They’ll be there for my personality.”

You arch a brow. “Your personality.”

“Yeah, my personality! Shut up. If League doesn't work, I could play like, Call of Duty, or… or like, Animal Crossing! Hey, I can't lose at Animal Crossing now, can I?”

“You might be onto something,” you muse.

“No…” he groans. “It’s never gonna happen. My dreams of becoming a famous streamer have to die because of… stupid calculus and… all these boring things.”

He drops his head on your shoulder, pouting at the thought of having to spend more time studying. You laugh and reach a hand up to pat his head, playing with his hair absentmindedly. 

"It's not that bad. You'll get through this," you say, trying to console him. "But seriously,” you continue, “I can’t believe you play so much League but never got past bronze. What are you even doing?”

He whines and buries his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about “bad teammates”.

The contact is familiar and comforting. He gets clingy like this often, especially when he's tired. You can feel his warm breath against your skin, its steady rhythm sending tingles down your spine. His hair is soft under your fingertips. And you are so, so normal. 

“Have you ever considered… that maybe you… are the bad teammate?” you can't help but tease.

“Heyyy,” he whines again, lifting his head to look at you with an offended expression.

You giggle at the sight of his disgruntled face and it seems to only make him sulk more, the pout on his face growing deeper. Cute.

“After all we've been through…” he breathes out. “After I’ve trusted you with my life. I can’t believe I’m hearing this from my own best friend… the absolute backstabbing…”

He's ridiculous. "You might wanna think of some new material, Mr. Variety Streamer,” you laugh. “The theatrics are getting a little old.”

He continues to pout, his gaze fixed on you. He’s so close, face just a few inches away from yours, and your heart jumps at the realization. Or maybe it jumps because of the way he’s looking at you; scrutinizing your face intently, his eyes flitting across your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. You shift around nervously. Something's off about how he's looking at you. You thought you’d seen a flash of… well, you don’t know what it was. But it makes you feel…

Warm and fluttering in your stomach, but in the worst, most uncomfortable way. You hate the way your body reacts so vividly to literally nothing. You really, really hate it.

Luckily (or unfortunately?), a particularly loud rumble of thunder echoes outside and he jumps.

He instantly leans away, as if he just realized himself how close you were. “Sorry, I— Geez, this weather sucks,” he complains, glancing toward the window. The storm outside is still raging, rain pelting against the window mercilessly.

“Yeah,” you say dumbly, feeling cold now that Felix has pulled away.

You push down the thoughts of how badly you want him to lean on you again, or how you wish he could hold you like he usually does. It’s easier to ignore whatever you’re feeling while he’s busy being all silly and clingy.

This is stupid. It's just so… frustrating, and you have no idea what to make of any of the thoughts that are running through your mind.

There’s a pause as he continues watching the rain outside, eyes following the raindrops dancing down the window panes. You try to study his expression; it’s pensive, almost contemplative, much like the look in his eyes earlier. 

“Are you tired?” he finally asks.

You blink. “Uh.” You realize that you are actually pretty tired. “Yeah, a little.”

The admission makes you yawn and Felix smiles in return, his expression softening. 

He pushes himself off the floor and looks at you for a moment, like he's about to say something — and then he doesn’t. Instead, he offers a hand to help you off the ground.

“Come on,” he says, hand extended. “We should get to sleep before the electricity inevitably goes out.”

You let him pull you up and he lets go of your hand quickly as he motions for you to get on the bed.

“I’ll go and— um,” he stumbles over his words, taking a few steps back. “I'll go shower real quick and then we can, uh… sleep.” 

He disappears before you can say anything and leaves you sitting on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling more tense and awkward than earlier.

You release a long breath. Okay. Okay, everything's fine. Just the two of you, sleeping in the same bed. No big deal. That’s happened plenty of times before. You try to steady your breathing as you sit there on his bed, surrounded by his pillows, his blankets, his scent.

You run a hand through your hair and scroll through your phone, trying to distract yourself. It’s going to be a long night.

When the door opens ten minutes later, you look up. Felix's hair is damp and he's wearing a loose white t-shirt with sweatpants, the material hanging low on his hips. His skin is a little flushed from the shower. He looks so soft and effortlessly pretty, you kind of want to scream.

“Hey,” he whispers as he shuts the bedroom door behind him, “You good?”

You nod, throat suddenly dry.

He clears his throat and walks towards the bed, standing there quietly. He doesn’t look at you for a long minute and you start to wonder if he’s thinking the same things you are, or if you’re overthinking everything and he’s fine.

“Well, let’s head to sleep then.” He breaks his gaze from the floor and turns to look at you again, a hint of worry on his face. “Uh, you can take the bed tonight, alright? I’ll just sleep on the floor or something.”

“What— Why?” you exclaim.

“I—” he blinks, taken aback, as if he didn't expect you to ask that. “I don't know? If, I mean, if you... like…” he trails off, looking away again. “The floor doesn't look that bad.”

It does. The cold, worn floor does look that bad. You must look worse. You're not an idiot, you can read in between the lines. He's uncomfortable sleeping next to you.

There’s no other reason for him to not want to sleep in the same bed as you. You've shared this bed with him countless times before. If he's not comfortable with you now…

Your mind is racing. Even if your awkwardness is because of your unbidden… lunacy towards him… he explicitly told you he doesn't see you like that. As much as you've been trying to repress everything and act normal like he's been… it hasn't worked. This is decidedly not normal.

There's a tense silence as you try to figure out what to say. The knot in your stomach tightens with every passing second and you try to push down the hurt that’s threatening to surface. You're making him uncomfortable. If you could just be normal about all this— Fuck. It's all your fault. 

"Shut up," you finally manage to mutter, starting to shuffle off the bed. “It's your bed. I'll take the floor."

“What— No, hey, stop—” he protests quickly, stepping forward to grab your arm. “Don’t— I couldn't let you do that. It's not— no.” he sputters.

You meet his eyes in confusion. He still has a grip on you, fingers warm and soft against your skin.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he says firmly, voice a bit lower than usual. “That's stupid. I just thought, maybe…” his grip on your arm tightens the tiniest bit.

“...What?” you ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, releasing your arm with a sigh.

You look at him, really look at him, the way his eyes won't meet yours, shoulders slumped, fingers tapping his thigh nervously. “Just,” you sigh. “You said it's stupid if I sleep there. Same for you. Just come here.”

He looks at you once more, searching your face. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, hopefully sounding more confident than you feel.

Your heart is pounding. You’re trying your best to ignore the tension in the room and act like everything’s fine. Like spending the night sleeping with your best friend when he clearly doesn’t want you to be close to him anymore isn’t breaking your heart. 

You give him a tight-lipped smile as you finally get under the blankets and lay on your side with your back towards him. 

Felix hesitantly climbs into bed next to you, keeping a fair distance. He doesn’t say anything at first. You think he’s just going to sleep and you’re both going to ignore whatever that was about. Cool, you can do that. You're great at doing that. Then, he huffs. 

"I’m so fucking tired," he mumbles as he shifts beside you and you hum in agreement.

“Yeah, now imagine sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Thank you. Um… sorry for being weird.”

You don't know what to say to that. “...You’re always weird,” you manage quietly.

He lets out a low chuckle and you feel some of the tension leave your body. It’s a familiar banter, one you’ve done with him for ages, so you grasp onto it, desperate for any semblance of normalcy.

“I’m sorry, though,” he says seriously. “I’m kind of an idiot, you know.” 

“...Yeah, I know.”

“I— wow,” he laughs softly. “Chat, what did I do to deserve this?”

You mirror his laugh and turn on your back to face him. 

His hair has gotten longer. The messy locks are fanned around his head on the pillow. His eyes are wide underneath his bangs, studying your face with an expression you can’t quite pin down. 

He’s so pretty. You wonder how you ever thought you could act normal after everything that's happened.

“Is the chat in the room with us?” you ask around a smirk, and pray your voice doesn't sound too breathless.

He snorts and you swear you can almost see the pout on his face. Yeah, he’s fine. He’s back to his regular self. You should be, too. 

“Shut up,” he pokes your shoulder weakly. 

Your heart does something stupid in your chest at the contact and you press your face further into the pillow to hide the flush that’s undoubtedly on your face right now. 

A few moments pass in silence and you close your eyes, hoping sleep will come soon and end this mess of a night. You don’t know how much time passes. Felix is silent and you feel yourself drifting off, sleep tugging at your consciousness, when you hear him whispering in the dark.

“Hey,” he says your name quietly. “You awake?”

You hum in response and reluctantly blink your eyes open. His face swims into view and you realize he's closer than before. Now only a few inches separate you from him.

“Sorry… um, I'm cold. Can… can I...?” He hesitates, leaving the question unfinished as his eyes search your face.

His breath ghosts your cheek and you freeze, trying to keep your breathing even as your body stiffens.

“Yeah,” you murmur, trying to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, of course.”

A flash of relief fills his face before he moves even closer to you. He lays next to you, resting his head on your collarbone and draping one arm over your waist carefully. You hold your breath.

“Is this alright?” he mumbles.

You’re not sure if you can speak without sounding like a goddamn idiot, so you just nod in reply.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you have to remind yourself that it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just Felix being Felix: the most physically clingy person on Earth. Also your best friend who you definitely do not have untoward feelings for.

That would be really, really bad.

Especially in a situation like this, where Felix’s nose is pressed in your neck, and his arm is around your waist, his leg tangled with yours at some point and his hair is tickling your chin. He’s everywhere. It's entirely overwhelming.

And he's so warm. You didn't even realize you were cold until he pressed against you. Warmth seeps deep into your bones as he sighs and pulls your body further against his. It's cozy and familiar and you try to focus on the comfort of the action instead of the way your heart is hammering in your chest.

It’s quiet for a few moments as he settles against you and you try to relax, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest to even out beside you, signaling he’s fallen asleep.

Instead, he shifts and you feel his lips brush against your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. Oh.

“Hey,” he murmurs in that low, low voice of his that only really comes out when he's sleepy. “Hey, I… um.” 

You can feel the vibrations from his voice against your neck as he speaks. Oh. You’ve definitely thought about this in a much different context before.

He’s silent for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. But he just sighs, pulling his head away slightly. “Nevermind… Um, good night.”

“Night,” you manage weakly.

It’s silent again. The only sounds that fill the room are the incessant beating of raindrops against the windows and Felix's soft breathing by your ear, drowning out the occasional faint rumble of thunder.

—

You wake to the sound of groaning.

Unsticking your eyelids, you attempt to get a look at your surroundings. It’s still dark, but the room slowly comes into focus as you blink slowly, trying to discern what woke you up. 

The first thing you notice is that it's warm. Hot, even. The air is thick and heavy in your lungs and there's a warm weight pressed against you.

It takes a few moments before you become aware of your current predicament — Right, you're at Felix's place, sleeping in his bed. His body is completely pressed against yours, his chest to your back, his head nuzzled in the nook of your neck. You’re practically spooning. There’s a leg thrown over yours and an arm wrapped snugly around your middle, making it virtually impossible to move.

And — it's not that unusual. It's not far off from the position you fell asleep in and Felix's clinginess is really quite endearing, even if your fragile heart can't handle it anymore. No, what's unusual are the sounds coming from him.

He’s making small noises as he fidgets against you, like he's in pain. He's probably having a bad dream. You start to turn over in order to wake him up, but his grip on you tightens and his breath hitches and—

You freeze.

That was definitely not the sound of someone having a nightmare. 

It was more like… like… Quiet, soft, and breathless; little sounds caught in his throat that spill into your ear.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, his body is moving — restless, shifting against you. His hips moving minutely. It takes your sleepy mind a second to put it all together.

Holy… Holy shit. Is he…?

You're suddenly very awake, fogginess replaced by a white hot rush of panic and disbelief.

He’s— Oh no.

Felix is asleep. He's definitely sleeping but— He must be… having some sort of… dream and… What the fuck are you supposed to do? Wake him up? Absolutely not. You literally— You'd rather die than face him like this. Not to mention how mortifying it would be for both of you. You would actually rather choose death.

He twitches slightly, his hips pushing up against your body. A low groan leaves him as he pulls you closer, completely against his body now, the thin material of his clothes doing nothing to hide his—

You squeeze your eyes shut. Oh my god you are going to die right now. You're seriously going to pass away for real this time. This— this is—

“Mmmn…” he moans, low and needy and right by your ear and wow, that’s… wow.

You have to be dreaming… this is just some very fucked up dream, the sane part of you implores. The rest of you is ignited in flames. 

It's not a dream.

Another little sound slips out and he presses even closer to you, his body flush against yours, like he’s trying to get as much contact as possible. His hips move against yours with a subtle roll and you feel shameful sparks of heat pooling in your gut.

This is so bad. This is so, so bad, fuck. Fuck.

He’s grinding against you in tiny movements, little gasps and moans escaping out of his mouth every few seconds and your entire body is burning. His arm is tight around your waist, his whole body pressed flush against your back. You don’t even dare to breathe as he rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, his nose nuzzling your neck as he lets out a soft whine. It takes everything you have to keep your own whimper at bay, suddenly desperate to grind back against him but— Christ. Are you insane?

You’re frozen. You’re not supposed to be here, you’re not supposed to be feeling this, you really should wake him up, this is so wrong, yet you’re still frozen like an idiot. You can't think. Your brain is made of cherry slushy. The heat death of the universe is imminent. 

Your mind is completely blank but your body is overstimulated and you’re just trying your best to figure out how not to die in this situation. Not easy when Felix is moaning into your neck and it sounds so good and he’s shifting and his body is impossibly warm and he’s—

His breath stutters abruptly in the midst of a long moan and he goes completely still around you. All you hear is heavy breathing for a few moments.

Shit, shit, shit. Is he awake? You're caught between relief and something like disappointment but aren't left enough time to dwell on that thought before you hear a shaky whispered, “F-Fuck.”

You hold your breath. 

Your heartbeat is ringing in your ears, body buzzing with tension, but you do your best to stay completely still. The air is so thick. You almost can’t believe what just happened, but the evidence is pressing into your back as Felix lets out another quiet swear.

His grip on you tenses for a moment before releasing you entirely. He untangles himself from you and pulls his body away from yours so suddenly that you nearly think you hallucinated the whole thing. 

His breathing is ragged and you don’t dare move a muscle. You keep your back resolutely facing him, try to relax, and you are asleep. You are asleep. You are asleep. You repeat it like a mantra. 

You don’t know if he believes your act, your eyes pressed shut, as you try to keep your breaths even and slow.

The sheets rustle a bit. You stay motionless, heart pounding in your ears. He’s sitting up now, you can feel the weight shifting beside you. It’s completely silent for a few seconds before he whispers your name in question.

You are asleep. You are asleep. You are asleep. You pray he believes it.

“...Thank god,” he breathes. You hear more rustling, sheets moving, and he's getting up.

Only when you hear the door shut do you allow yourself to breathe, wondering how the hell you made it out of that situation alive. What the fuck. 

Like, what the fuck.

You stare at the wall in shock, eyes wide and heart hammering hard in your chest.

He doesn’t know you were awake. You’re alive. You survived.

You bury your face in the pillow and try to collect yourself, shaking slightly in the aftermath of whatever the hell just happened. The heat of his body is still surrounding you, his presence lingering on your skin and you can’t help the traitorous part of your brain that wishes for him to crawl back into the bed and hold you again. That wishes you were brave enough to do something other than lie there.

You push the thought away with a quiet groan. You can’t think about that. You can’t. You're barely holding onto the last threads of your sanity as it is. 

But you can’t fall back asleep.

Of course you can’t. After what just happened, your brain will probably never be fully operational again. You press your hands to your face and let out a pathetic whine, wondering if it's possible to die of embarrassment. You're sure this is what a heart attack feels like. It's a wonder you're still breathing. 

This is so much worse than last time, when you got too into practicing. At least that was mutually agreed on and Felix made light of it pretty easily. But this? How are you supposed to act normal after this? That wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to know what it feels like to have his body up against yours, to hear him moaning in your ear. And you pretended to be asleep instead of stopping him. So he doesn't even know… It's so wrong on so many levels.

You sigh. Felix doesn't know you were awake, so he doesn't know you know and maybe, maybe you can get away with pretending it didn't happen. You'll have to play it cool, of course. Or even better, you can forget about this entirely, convince yourself it was all a fever dream.

Maybe.

—

a/n: AHHH. so it really wasnt meant to be a cliffhanger here lol but then i ended up splitting it so... sorry. the next (and final for REALL THIS TIME) part will be out very soon! nothing like the 3 month long wait for this (ty SO MUCH for ur patience) andd yeah! i hope this is at least somewhat living up to expectations so far, tysm for reading!!

[multifandomfanficss]

Don’t Stop My Heart

Tyler Owens x Reader

Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.

You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.

“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.

“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.

“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.

“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.

“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.

“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.

“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.

“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.

“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.

“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.

“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.

“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.

After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.

“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.

“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.

“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.

“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”

“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.

“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.

“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.

“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.

“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.

“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.

“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.

“It’s not funny.” You cry.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“

“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”

“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”

“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.

“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.

“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”

“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.

“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“

Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.

“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.

After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.

“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.

“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.

“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”

You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲

order 84 | Scenario | Cater, Jade, Idia, Silver | gender neutral

❀ NOTE: PRETTY BOYS AHHHH, I wonder if all the characters are canonically attractive or are some characters like Ace considered mid?

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so…”

➺ Cater Diamond

There’s a reason why Cater has so many followers on MagiCam. It’s because he has a cute face!! You’re not sure if he’s aware but he just has to be.

He does these tiny things like brushing the hair out of his face or slightly turning his head when he laughs. You didn’t really realize how pretty he was for a while. Sure, you got nervous just staring at him but now you can’t even look him in the eye.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so hot…”

He blinked for a moment. He was in the middle of drying his hair when you said that. All he could think is “Oh wow?” He noticed that you’ve been staring at him so intensely for the past few days— maybe weeks.

But you said it straight to his face? He thought he misheard you at first but you definitely said that.

“Wow, I didn’t know you fancied me that way MC!” Admittedly it did fluster him, he was flattering in the best way possible.

“Don’t get it twisted, it’s not in the way you’re thinking!”

You’re in denial.

⊱Jade Leech

He has that certain look to him. It’s different than Floyd even though they’re identical twins. Maybe he’s not aware how MMMMMMM he is but he has to.

Just the way he looks at you can get you weak on the floor. His eyes… You noticed how his eyes squint ever so slightly when he’s focused. He’s calm under any circumstances yet so amusing in his own way. He’s the type of person you’d want to follow around just for the fun of it. And in his own way… he’s just so damn cute too.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so cute…”

He quickly turned his head to stare at you. He’s not sure what you mean or why. It was so out of the blue. You’ve been stalking him for a while. Of course he knew and allowed it and treated it as if it was normal.

“Pardon? In what way am I… cute?” He turned his head curiously.

“Cute!” You said again.

He wasn’t sure how to feel, the last time someone called him cute was when he was a little kid. Most people would think of Jade as alluring or handsome, cute is something he hasn’t heard in a while.

“If you’re talking about my appearance, you must think Floyd is cute as well.” He says while smiling at you.

“Eh I guess so. But he’s not as cute as you.”

He moved closer, “Tell me, what else do you think of me?”

You put your hands out in front of you, as if to say stop. “Why do you have to be so close..?!”

*ੈ Idia Shroud

It’s already canon that Idia is very attractive from the character archives book and the ghost marriage event while being complete oblivious. He’s charming in his own way.

It’s hard to believe he’s so oblivious to his good looks. His smile is nerdy yet… attractive. His personality is rough but that’s what makes him so fun. Teasing someone like him is hilarious.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so hot.”

He immediately cranked his head your direction with a baffled expression. He shook his head and let out an irritated squeal.

“Wh-who says stuff like that to somebody’s face?! Online I get it but this is IRL! Why does someone like you even think that?”

He just gets really flustered and ends up rambling about how it doesn’t make sense. But when he looks back on it, it gives him an ego boost for a few minutes and then he’s embarrassed because— it makes him happy that you think of him that way.

-ˋˏ Silver

Unintentional or not, Silver has been seeing you around a lot. He doesn’t think much of it since you’re in the same school so it’s not anything crazy but when he does see you, you’re always staring at him with this… funny expression.

Did he do something wrong? He tries to wave at you when he can but as soon as he turns his head you run away or start acting like you weren’t the one staring first.

But what were you suppose to do? Whenever you saw him, all your attention was diverted to his gentle yet sharp expression. His resting face was already so deadly, you couldn’t imagine if he were to smile.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so pretty…”

He froze with a puzzled look on his face. This was one of the times you actually started a conversation with him instead of staring and running away and you say something so flirtatious?

“Ah…” He blinked as you gazed into his eyes nervously, “Thank you I suppose.” But in what way was he suppose to take that?

[cottonlemonade]

I'd love a small Lemonade with pineapple flavor, and pomegranate seeds for Daichi and me. Thank you for doing this, it's so cool!!!

Accidental Confession

word count: 901 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: Daichi x chubby!Reader (feat. Suga)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, accidental confession with pining friend Daichi

“Alright, tell me if this is bad.”

Suga nodded and crossed his arms, watching expectantly as his best friend squared his shoulders and, after clearing his throat, said, “I really like you. Please be my girlfriend.”

Daichi waited. So did Suga.

And then the setter frowned in pity. “Two weeks of prep and that’s what you came up with?”

With a tired sigh Daichi rubbed the back of neck, “Why shouldn’t I keep it simple?”

“Because that was lukewarm at best.”

“I thought it was heartfelt.”, the captain murmured and plopped down on the empty swing next to his friend. It was still pretty early in the evening but the neighborhood playground was already deserted.

“First, I would lose the “really like”. I dare say, a steady three year obsession with her warrants “love”. Second, why don’t you add a bit more… more? Tell her why you like her. Why you want her to be your girlfriend and so on. Girls love that kind of stuff.”

Daichi regarded his painfully single friend and bit back a comment.

“I know what you’re thinking.”, Suga raised his hands in defense, “But you know what they say. Those who can’t do, teach. Now. Once again with feeling.”

Somehow this one was worse than the first. Suga shook his head thoughtfully and focused on a crow hopping back and forth on a bench nearby.

“Maybe a bit of roleplay might help.”, he suggested, “Let me get into character.“

“Is this really necessary?“, Daichi asked with a skeptical frown.

“Would you have gone out with yourself after that confession?“

Daichi cleared his throat again and a slight blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Fine. What do you have in mind?”

And so the two boys practiced. Suga suggested trying different approaches, just to see which “genre” of confession would suit his best friend the most. Their rehearsal went on for so long that there was even a snack break at the convenience store involved. Daichi checked his watch, one hand holding onto the chain of the swing as he kept the hot yakisoba bun tucked between his lips. He still had a good 20 minutes until you were supposed to meet him.

“I think the last one wasn’t so bad.”, Suga said, slowly swinging back and forth and racking his brain for ideas of improvement, “Let’s try that one again, but try to be a bit more confident. Like you’re sure she will go out with you.”

“But I’m not.”

“Fake it til you make it.”, Suga shrugged and jumped up, rummaging in the plastic bag of snacks for props. When he turned around to face his friend for a final run through he had stuffed the two melon breads they bought under his shirt.

It was hard for Daichi to keep a straight face this time. He kept blushing as Suga meanwhile gave the performance of a lifetime.

“Go on, tell me you love me.”, Suga urged.

“I… I love you.”, Daichi repeated and then went on, “Every day you’re what I look most forward to about school.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”, Suga gave him a thumbs up. Daichi was on a roll.

“You’re smart and funny, not to mention beautiful. - I also still can’t get over how easily you can control the first years. And even though it took me way too long to get here, I don’t want to graduate without letting you know how I feel.”

“You know, now would be a great time for a kiss.”

The gray haired boy leaned forward with a superior smirk, fully intending to catch Daichi off guard and maybe push him backwards off the swing in the process.

“Oh! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt. I- congratulations!”

“Y/n!”

Daichi almost stumbled as he tried to untangle himself from the swing and took a few steps towards you.

With tentative movements, Suga fished the two bread rolls out of his shirt. To underline his uninvolvement he opened one of the packages and innocently nibbled on the soft bun, pretending to look anywhere but you two.

“I’m happy for you.”, you said quickly, “And don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. Although, I am a bit confused why you called me here.”

“Y/n.”, Daichi tried to cut in but you were on caught up in your nervous ramblings.

“It was really pretty. Your confession, I mean. I should have known you liked him. You’re always together and seem so close.”

“Y/n.”, he tried again.

“But then again, I feel like that shouldn’t necessarily be an indicator for romantic love. I mean, you and me are close and you obviously don’t feel that way about me. And men should be allowed to be close to each other without immediately having people think that-“

“Y/n!” Daichi put his hands on either side of your face and squished your chubby cheeks to make you stop. Your mouth turned into a kind of fishy gape.

“Sorry.”, you muttered.

“Suga was you.”

“Huh?”

He squished your face a little tighter, making you meet his eyes.

“I was practicing my confession for you.”

“Oh? Oh!”

He let you go and took a step back, patiently watching you put the pieces together.

Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he looked to the canopy of a tree overhead. “Do you… want me to say it all again?”

a/n: thank you very much for the request! I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

[p0orbaby]

Slow Motion Mountain Climber

summary: leah signs up for pilates, what could go wrong?

warnings: none

a/n: based on this request !

word count: 981

-

Leah texts you on a Tuesday morning, right before your alarm, like she does whenever something has gone terribly wrong in her life. Like when she found out gluten was in soy sauce, or when she discovered she might have to use that godforsaken 6 train in New York. This time, it's a message that reads: Just signed up for Pilates. You may never see me again.

You roll your eyes, groaning at the incoming rant that's sure to follow. Leah's the kind of person who only does new things for one of two reasons: someone dared her, or she's trying to prove to herself that she is still young and can get away with eating three chocolate croissants in a single sitting. You suspect it’s a combination of both. She’s mentioned something about trying to build a "strong core," which you assume is code for "I'm slowly being bullied into this by the fact that all my teammates have six-packs and I have a soft spot for bread."

At 7:45 AM, just as you’re pouring coffee, Leah calls. You pick up on the third ring because you’re not a monster.

“I’m going to die,” she says, without so much as a hello

“Bold start to the day,” you reply. “Anything specific, or is it just a general feeling?”

“Pilates,” she says, and it sounds like a curse word. “Do you know what that is?”

You almost spit out your coffee because, yes, you know what Pilates is. You’re not sure what’s more shocking: that Leah doesn’t know or that she actually followed through on signing up.

“Yeah, Leah, I know what Pilates is”

“Well, it’s hell. No one told me it was this hard. And the instructor—she’s, like, smiling at me while she’s killing me. How are you supposed to trust someone who's trying to make you do something called a 'teaser' while she grins like a lunatic?”

You can picture it now. Leah, in the middle of a room full of people who've been doing this since their nannies signed them up for ballet at age three, contorting herself on a reformer like it’s some kind of medieval torture device. Meanwhile, the instructor—probably named something like Tiffani with an 'i'—is telling her to “engage her core,” as if Leah didn’t already have a job that required her to do that for 90 minutes straight, several times a week.

“Did you die, though?”

“Almost. My legs were shaking. My abs—I didn’t even know I had abs. Why does anyone do this willingly? I’ve literally been fouled by Fran Kirby, and that was less painful”

“Maybe you should stick to yoga”

“Yoga!” Leah scoffs. “I can do yoga. That’s just stretching and pretending you’re one with the universe or whatever”

You let her have that one because there’s no use arguing with someone who once mistook a meditation class for an excuse to nap in public.

Leah continues, “This class, though—it's not natural. They make you put your legs in straps. Straps! Like a harness, but for your feet. And then they expect you to lift them while you're suspended in the air like some sort of flying squirrel”

You’ve taken Pilates before, so you know exactly what she’s talking about, but you can’t help but laugh. Leah, in her infinite wisdom, probably signed up for the most advanced class because, as she said once, “Go big or go home.” Now, she’s paying for it.

“Maybe you should ask to start in a beginner class,” you suggest, knowing full well she won’t.

“Yeah, no. I already told them I’m an athlete. Can’t back down now. But I swear, if one more person tells me to ‘breathe through it,’ I’m going to punch them in the face”

You imagine the looks on the faces of her Pilates classmates as she throws a fit in the middle of a serene, candle-lit studio. You’ve seen Leah frustrated before, but this is a new level of agitation, and it’s all directed at something she willingly signed up for.

“Maybe it’s good for you,” you offer, “builds character”

“Yeah, and scars. On my pride”

You laugh again because you can see where this is going. Leah, who tackles challenges like they’re personal vendettas, is going to keep going back to that class until she can hold a plank longer than anyone else, even if it kills her. Or, more likely, until she finds something else to distract her, like knitting or extreme ironing.

"I’m just saying," she adds, after a pause, "if I end up with a six-pack, it’s because I earned it. None of this ‘strong core’ bullshit. I want abs of steel. Like, I want to be able to crack a walnut between my ribs”

You’re crying with laughter now, imagining Leah doing sit-ups in front of a mirror at home, testing her progress with various hard-shelled nuts.

“Don’t worry, babe,” you say, trying to calm yourself down. “If you do get abs of steel, I’ll make sure to bring walnuts everywhere we go”

“Good,” she replies, and you can hear her finally start to laugh along with you. “You’re on walnut duty. And if this all goes horribly wrong and I never make it out of Pilates alive, just know it was the straps that did me in”

You shake your head, still smiling. “You’ll be fine. But maybe next time, start with a class that doesn’t sound like it was designed by someone who secretly hates people”

Leah sighs dramatically. “Noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend the rest of the day lying flat on the floor and cursing Joseph Pilates”

“You do that, babe,” you say, hanging up as you imagine her sprawled out on the carpet, texting you updates about how her muscles are rebelling against her. And you can’t wait to read every single one.

[floralcyanide]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)

In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions

✣ word count: 2.7k

✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are. 

He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally. 

When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.

“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.

“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”

Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”

“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”

You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible. 

“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”

Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”

You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”

You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”

Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”

“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”

Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.

You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.

You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.

“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 

Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”

The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking. 

“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”

“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”

“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”

You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.

“Still do, actually. Love you.”

Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”

“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”

“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.

Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”

Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.

“Prove it how?”

“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.

You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”

“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”

“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”

Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”

Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”

A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.

“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”

“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.

He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.

“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.

He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.

He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot. 

“Callum, please,” you whine.

“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”

“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”

“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.

Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”

“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.

You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.

“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.

“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.

“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.

You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.

“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”

“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you. 

“That was…”

“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you, 

“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”

“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”

The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.

[strawb3heart]

Love actually!

Part 1

warning: just a bit of swearing maybe, a bit short??

Summary: The one where Lando Norris lies to a girl he just met who happens to then turn into his friend or something else..

As the days went by, Lando Norris found the perfect company. Although when he arrived in the small town he wasn't looking to find someone, it turns out that sometimes things don't go as planned, but much better. "If it's not too much of an intrusion, do you plan to stay here long?"

"Why? Do you want me to leave already?" the boy said in a playful tone causing the girl to shake her head laughing "Your work sounds serious, that's why I wanted to know"he gave her a small smile while still shaking his head

"In that case, I still have a couple of weeks free" ​​the weight of the lie was increasing little by little, making the brown-haired boy reconsider whether he should tell the truth

"If so, would you like to visit the lighthouse? It's a bit far and the walk might be hard for some, but if you're up for it, Elio would like you to come with us." Y/n explained, noticeably nervous under the man's attentive gaze

"Only him?" that comment made the blonde give her a confused look "Only Elio would like me to accompany you?" After that, a nervous giggle escaped the girl's lips "I think we both know the answer to that, Max"

When their eyes met, he knew it was the perfect moment, the moment he was waintig for, so he slowly cupped the face of the girl between his hands, leaning to give her a sweet and soft kiss.

"Then, I can't disappoint both of you, I'll go with you" And, as he said, Norris was more than thrilled to go hiking with Y/n and her little one.

What he didn't knew was how that was going to end. And now, the "date" was just a completely bittersweet blur.

Perhaps he forgot what the lie would cost him or maybe he just didn't think it through. But now, it was sure that neither Y/n or Elio would want him in his life.

The date was supposed to be a fun getaway enjoying the sunset and the afternoon, but when a group of fans recognized him, everything shattered.

"You lied to me" the tone in her voice was low, showing just how broken the girl seemed. "Y/n, it wasn't like that, I just, I didn't know if you would want me near you or Elio if you had already known who am I"

"Lando, you cannot just invent a name and a fucking fairytale of how your life is" She yelled while the man seemed to be taken aback, she never acted like that before "I need to take care of Elio, guard his security, and you just proven me that you don't even care about that"

"Elio freaked out when all those people appeared, couldn't you think of my child's sake before creating this kind of lie you thought you'd pull through"

Lando Norris remembered every single word the blonde had said to him. And that memory seemed to be haunting him constantly. He would give the entire world just to go back to the day it all started, to change how he had the audacity to lie.

But deep down, she knew the girl was right. The little one started crying just as all the flashes of the cameras and the yelling started. Even when he tried to shush everyone, sensing the fear in Y/n's and Elio's eyes.

Now, Norris had only one day left in Portofino. And he knew exactly what he was going to do

"You shouldn't be here" Y/n said in a rather dry way "I'm aware that I messed this up, seriously Y/n" he started to talk "But I have to tell you the truth, all of it"

"I traveled here because of the chaotic environment, and I was just looking for a relaxing holiday. But when I met you and this little one" He said squeezing softly Elio's hand "Everithing changed, and I didn't want to drag all that chaos to our new friendship"

"I know I did the wrong thing in lying to you, and I guess I was also afraid you wouldn't want to date someone who's constantly involved in senseless dramas."

"If you can forgive me, and I really hope you can, I'll be here until noon, you know where to find me"

Saying that, Norris was just about to leave when a cold hand grabbed his arm, avoiding him to continue walking.

"You cannot just say that and leave, Norris" she said while laughing softly "I understand you, at least I think I do, but if we want to make this work, we need to avoid lies"

"Whatever you say ma'am, your wish is my command" He was smirking while the girl blushed subtly

Love was such a wonderful thing and the fact thatbthe couple had met just by accident was a simple prove that love actually is, all around.

Taglist: @justheretoreadthxxs @hadids-world @hc-dutch @hard4ndsoft @cmleitora

dunno if it was too short but I was running out of imagination w this one, sorryy 😭

requests are always open 🌷

[itneverendshere]

someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!ex!rafe - part two

warnings: angst 🥰

You shouldn’t be here.

It’s stupid. Dangerous, even.

That’s all you can think as you stand at the bar, fingers tapping nervously against your glass. It’s packed, the typical crowd buzzing after another one of the games. It’s the usual fans, players, and people who’ve never touched a hockey stick in their life but still come to bask in the afterglow of a win. 

You’d sworn after the last time — after that night — you wouldn’t let yourself get sucked back into this. But here you are. It’s only been three weeks since you accidentally ended up fucking him.

That night after his game, with your date somewhere outside, waiting for you, oblivious. You didn’t mean for it to happen. It was supposed to be closure, a final goodbye, whatever excuse you’d fed yourself when you let Rafe pull you into that dark hallway at the stadium. Maybe it was seeing him on the ice again, that high, that intensity, had done something to you. The way he’d stared at you in the stands, like he was winning just to prove something. Like he still had something to prove to you.

Now, you’re actively avoiding him again — which is hard, considering he’s everywhere. On the screens, in the tabloids, in your goddamn head.

“You okay?” your friend asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, just... crowded,” you lie, forcing a smile. But she knows better, giving you that knowing look that says, Yeah, sure, totally not about your hockey player ex who's right over there.

“Uh-huh. He’s here, isn’t he?” She doesn’t even have to ask. The answer’s written all over your face.

“I don’t care,” you lie. “I just—”

But you don’t finish because that’s when you see him. You take a sip of your drink, scanning the room out of habit. And there he is.

Rafe Cameron, in all his post-game glory, laughing with his teammates like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s still wearing part of his team gear like it’s his uniform for life, that stupidly tight team jacket stretched across those broad shoulders you used to run your hands down. His hair is still damp from the shower. He hasn’t seen you yet — thank God — but you know it’s only a matter of time.

He always finds you.

You suck in a sharp breath and look away fast, pretending to be deeply invested in whatever drink the bartender is making.

Why did you come here again? To prove a point to yourself? To what, show him you’re unaffected? Stupid. So, so stupid. He’s a mistake. A mistake wrapped up in six feet of cocky charm.

Your friend’s watching you, probably already figuring out what’s going through your head, but you’re too focused on him. On the way he throws his head back laughing at something his buddy says. You can’t hear it over the music, but you know that laugh too well, you can imagine the sound like clockwork. You should be past this. You’ve had closure. The kind of closure that leaves bruises and bite marks, the kind that shouldn’t have happened.

“Girl, you need to—”

“Shut up,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it. You know what she’s going to say. You know exactly what she’s thinking because it’s the same thing running through your head: Why the fuck can’t you stay away from him?

“Nope,” she says firmly, like she’s reading your mind. “Not tonight, okay? You said you were done.”

“I am done,” you murmur. Liar, liar, liar.

It’s downright infuriating how your body reacts to him, even now.

You can feel it in your chest,  something that always pulls you toward him and hasn’t let up since the day you first met him. It’s maddening. You’ll ignore him, just like last time — except, okay, last time didn’t exactly work out. But this time will be different. You’ll stay cool, stay calm, stay—

“Leaving already?”

You freeze, your heart skipping for all the wrong reasons. You could walk away, pretend you didn’t hear him. But you don’t.

You slowly turn around, and there he is, standing right behind you, eyes on you with that same intensity that always makes it impossible to breathe.

He looks good. Too good. And he knows it.

“What do you want?”

He smirks, leaning against the bar like this is just another normal conversation. Like you didn’t fuck him three weeks ago after months of silence. Like that didn’t mean something.

“Can’t say hi to my ex?” He cocks his head, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Or are we pretending that didn’t happen now?”

You roll your eyes, taking another sip of your drink, trying to appear unbothered. But your body hates you. He steps closer, just enough that you catch the scent of his cologne — that stupid scent that still haunts your bed.

“I’m not pretending anything,” you snap, meeting his gaze. “I have nothing to say to you.”

 “You were gonna pretend you didn’t see me?”

“I’m not doing this with you,” you mutter, turning to leave. But before you can, he grabs your wrist — not hard, but enough to make you pause. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he says, his voice lower now, more serious. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something. “Tell me you didn’t come here hoping to see me.”

He knows. He fucking knows. He’s still got you wrapped around his finger, and he’s not even hiding it.

You jerk your hand out of his grip, your jaw clenched tight. “You think I came here for you?” You can feel your pulse racing, the anger inside, because, fuck, maybe there’s a part of you that did. “You think I came here to throw it all away for you?”

He doesn’t even flinch. In fact, he steps closer, he’s huge and takes up too much space. “Maybe you just wanted to see me.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “I have seen you, Rafe. You look like shit.” You take a step back, needing space, needing air. “Not everything’s about you.”

He chooses to ignore your little comment.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

You know exactly what he’s talking about, and your body betrays you with a flush that spreads up your neck. That night. The way his hands had felt on your skin, the way you hadn’t been able to get enough of him.

“It was the adrenaline,” you snap, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “That’s all it was.”

“That’s bullshit,” he fires back immediately, stepping closer again, eyes locked on yours. “You weren’t thinking about the game when you kissed me. Or when you begged me to—”

“Shut up,” you hiss, cutting him off, your cheeks burning with rage. “We both know what happened was a mistake.”

Even as the words leave your mouth, you know how fake they sound. The memory of that night — his body over yours, his hands on you, the heat between you—

“Mistake, huh?” Rafe tilts his head, eyes narrowing as if he’s daring you to say it again. “That why you couldn’t keep your hands off me?”

You want to kill him.

“We were both high off the win. I wasn’t thinking. It didn’t mean anything.”

His jaw tightens, and you can see you’re hurting him. He leans down, close enough that his lips almost brush against your ear, and you shiver despite yourself.

“You weren’t thinking when you came apart in my arms, huh? You weren’t thinking when you told me you needed me,” he says, his voice a low rasp that makes you clench your thighs. 

“Stop.” Your voice cracks, and you hate yourself for it. You feel like you’re losing control, like you’re getting sucked back into him, the one you swore you’d broken free of.

“You’re still thinking about it. I know you are,” Rafe murmurs, and his hand slides up your arm, fingers grazing your bare skin.

You swallow hard, pulling back slightly, needing space to think, to breathe. “You’re not as important as you think.”

He chuckles softly, but there’s no humor in it. “Maybe not. But I’m still in your head. You still want me.”

You want to scream, want to shove him, want to do something to make him shut the fuck up because the worst part is, he’s not wrong. You’re still here, you’re still drawn to him like a magnet, no matter how many times you’ve told yourself you’re done.

And you hate him for it. Hate him.

“I don’t want you,” you say, but the words come out too weak, like you don’t believe them yourself, and Rafe’s eyes glimmer with amusement like he knows you don’t.

“That so?” he murmurs, stepping even closer, crowding you, his presence taking over your personal space in the best and worst way. His hand trails down your arm again, “Then why are you shaking?”

“I’m not—” you start, but before you can finish, his mouth is down on yours.

You don’t even think. You don’t have time to. One second, you’re angry, and the next, you’re kissing him back like you need him to breathe. Your hands fly to his chest, gripping the fabric of his jacket as you pull him closer. So fucking stupid.

You hate him, but you need him.

His tongue brushes against yours, and you moan into his mouth, hating yourself for how good it feels. Before you know it, he’s already pulling back, tugging you toward the back of the bar, weaving through his teammates with no hesitation, dragging you like you weight nothing.

“Rafe,” you hiss, trying to pull back, but he’s not listening. He doesn’t have to, he knows you’ll follow.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you snap, but your voice cracks. Because you know exactly what he’s doing. You’ve been here before. And despite every warning bell going off in your head, your body’s already reacting, already wanting this.

He doesn’t say a word at first, just spins you around and pins you against the door, his body pressing against yours, so close you can feel the hard lines of his muscles, the heat radiating off him. You open your mouth to argue, to push him away, to remind yourself why this is a bad idea — but then his lips are on yours again, and everything falls apart.

Rafe’s breath is hot against your neck, hands gripping your waist like every inch of space between you is unbearable. You’ve barely had time to catch your breath from him pinning you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours like he’s drowning in the kiss, like you’re still his to touch, to hold, to ruin.

And God, it feels like you are. 

Even though every part of you knows this is a bad idea, knows you should have walked away the second you saw him, your body doesn’t give a damn. It wants him. It’s always wanted him. You’re making out like you’re about to fuck right here in this tiny, dingy hallway, and there’s no stopping it now.

He yanks your shirt higher, his fingers trailing over your skin in a way that makes you want to forget all the bullshit that came before this. His mouth is on your collarbone now, kissing down, down, like he’s memorizing the way your body reacts to him. 

“I miss you,” he murmurs.

And it’s like all the air’s been sucked out of your lungs.

You swallow hard, shaking your head, refusing to let yourself believe it. “Don’t— Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he says, his gaze locked on yours. “I miss you, okay? I—fuck, I hate this. Hate that you’re not there anymore, that you’re—” He breaks off, sucking in a sharp breath, like he’s struggling to find the words. “That you’re gone. Like I’m nothing to you.”

Just as he’s about to move lower, the door flies open. The sound scares you both, and Rafe steps back, his hands falling away from you instantly, leaving you cold, exposed, and pissed.

“Shit—” Rafe mutters, straightening up, turning around to face the door. And there she is.

Her.

Sofia, the team’s physical therapist — and the woman who’s been at the center of all your doubts, all your insecurities, since she was hired a year ago. The reason you and Rafe broke up in the first place. She’s standing in the doorway, eyes flicking between the two of you. But it doesn’t matter. The sight of her makes your blood boil.

You freeze, your body going rigid with the shock of it. You can’t believe this. 

Now? Of all times?

Sofia’s eyes move to Rafe, and it’s like you’re not even there. Like this isn’t the most awkward, tension-filled moment of your fucking life.

“Rafe,” she says calmly, too casually, like she hasn’t just interrupted whatever this is. “Coach needs you. It’s important.”

Rafe tenses, and for a second, he looks torn. But only for a second.

You can feel your chest tightening, your hands curling into fists at your sides. It’s always been like this. The way he looks at her, the way he drops everything for her, how they have this whole connection you were never part of. And it hits you again — she knew things about him you didn’t. Important things. Things that should’ve been yours to know first.

You remember the night you found out about the other team’s offer — how blindsided you’d felt when you saw it on the news. It wasn’t even that he rejected the offer. It was the fact that he didn’t tell you. Didn’t think it was a big deal. But he told her. You feel like throwing up by just thinking about it. The humiliation, the way Sofia had acted like it was normal, like she was so fucking in the loop. 

And now she’s here, again, like she always is.

You push past Rafe, your voice cutting through the tension. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Rafe turns to you, “It’s not what you think.”

You scoff, eyes burning into his. “Not what I think?” You can feel the fury bubbling up, your chest tightening with every breath. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Rafe?” You look between him and Sofia, your stomach churning at how casual she looks. Like she’s used to this. Used to being there—in the middle of things she has no business being in.

She’s standing there all cool and collected, glances between the two of you like this is just another day at work, another harmless interruption. She even has the nerve to offer you a tight, professional smile. Like she’s the fucking victim. Like she hasn’t been the fucking problem all along.

“Should I go?” she asks, voice sweet and calm, like she’s offering to leave a fucking brunch.

That does it. You snap. The adrenaline from the fight, from being caught, from everything just crashes through you like a wave. You glare at her, feeling your pulse race with rage.

"Are you fucking serious?" you spit, stepping forward, your voice shaking with barely contained rage. “Should you go? You shouldn’t be here. Ever. You’re not wanted.” Every word drips with venom, and the look on Sofia’s face changes slightly. She knows she’s hit a nerve.

She always does.

Rafe reaches out like he’s going to grab your arm, to stop you from escalating, but you pull back hard. You can’t even look at him right now.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

You can’t believe this is happening. Again.

Rafe’s face falls, like he didn’t expect you to react this way, like he hasn’t been a complete idiot for months. You step back, creating as much space as you can between you, him, and her.

“Wow,” You laugh bitterly, the sound hollow even to your own ears. “This is why we’re here. This right here. You, her—” You wave your hand dismissively at Sofia, who still stands there, too composed for what this moment is. “You’re so fucking blind.”

He looks like he wants to say something, to defend himself, but no words come out. Good.

You’re tired of hearing his excuses anyway.

“I don’t get why you couldn’t just talk to me,” you continue, feeling the familiar burn of tears threatening to sting your eyes. But you won’t give either of them the satisfaction of seeing you cry. Not now. “But no, you had to go to her. She’s your go-to, right? You tell her everything. She makes you feel better, right?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” he finally mutters, his voice low, strained. “I rejected the offer. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Of course, it was a big deal, Rafe. I was supposed to be the last to know? You think just because you rejected it, it didn’t fucking matter?”

Sofia clears her throat, shifting her weight uncomfortably, but you ignore her, your eyes still locked on Rafe. You can’t believe how casual he’s being about all of this, like your feelings were an afterthought. Like you were an afterthought.

“And you—” You turn to Sofia now, your voice laced with venom. “You knew the entire time. You both did.”

Sofia opens her mouth, but Rafe cuts her off. “Stop,” he says, his voice sharp. “Just... stop.”

“No, you don’t get to do that,” you snap, stepping back, keeping the distance between you. “You don’t get to look at me like that. Like I’m the one being unreasonable. I loved you, Rafe. I trusted you. And you broke that. You broke me.”

This is between you and Rafe, and she’s just a reminder of everything that went wrong, of all the things he kept from you.

With a bitter laugh, you grab your jacket from the floot and push past them both, your heart pounding in your chest. “I hope you’re happy together,” you mutter, not looking back as you storm out of the bathroom, out of the bar, out of his life.

You storm out of the bar, your pulse ripping in your ears, heart slamming against your chest like it’s trying to break free from whatever this is. The cool night air hits your skin, but it does nothing to calm the heat in your body. You can still feel his hands on you, his mouth, the way he pulled you in like nothing had changed, like it was still him and you against the world. But nothing is the same anymore. He isn’t yours to touch, and you’re not his to ruin. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, letting him in just to tear you apart all over again.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out, staring at the screen. It’s a text from your friend, asking if you’re okay. You blink, forcing yourself to take a breath. Right. Yeah. I’m fine. Just needed some air. I’ll be back in a sec. Lie after lie after lie.

You’re done. For real this time. You’ve said it before, told yourself that you were finished with Rafe, but it never stuck. This time though? You don’t think you could go back even if you wanted to.

You’re tired. Tired of fighting, tired of waiting for him to figure his shit out, tired of being second to someone else. Sofia’s just a reminder of all the ways he’s failed you, of the times he left you hanging in the worst way. But it’s not just her — it’s him. It’s always been him and the way he never truly opened up to you. Not the way you needed him to.

Your chest hurts so fucking bad as the tears finally start to blur your vision, but you don’t stop walking. You don’t look back. Not this time. You don’t make it more than a few steps before you hear it — his voice, calling your name. Loud, desperate.

You curse under your breath, not daring to turn around, but he’s quick. His footsteps are fast, catching up to you before you can get too far.

“Wait!” Rafe’s hand grabs your arm, pulling you to a stop.

You spin around, ripping your arm from his grip, “Don’t you fucking dare. Let me go, Rafe.”

He doesn’t. His eyes are frantic, like he knows he already lost but isn’t willing to admit it. “No, we’re not doing this again. You don’t just get to walk away like that.”

“Like what?” You scoff, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Like I’m tired of the same bullshit with you? Like I’m finally done playing this game?”

“You don’t mean that.” There’s something rin the way he’s looking at you, something that makes you almost hate him more. Because he’s right — you don’t mean it. Not fully. And that’s the worst part.

“Don’t tell me what I mean, Rafe,” you spit, shoving his chest. He barely moves. “Stop,” you snap, pushing him again. “Just stop. You can’t keep doing this, showing up, pulling me back in, pretending like you care when it’s convenient for you.”

“I do care.” He runs his hands through his hair, exasperated, “Why do you think I’m here right now?”

“Because you hate not being in control,” you spit back, chest heaving. “Because you hate it when things aren’t on your terms.”

“That’s not it,” he growls, stepping closer again. He’s towering over you now, but you don’t back down. “You think I don’t fucking hate this too? You think this is easy for me? I’m trying, alright. I fucked up, but I’m trying.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Trying? Trying is telling me the truth. Trying is not keeping me in the dark while you run off to her—”

He cuts you off, stepping even closer, until you can smell the familiar scent of his cologne again, “You brought a fucking date to my game!”

“After we broke up,” You hiss, shoving a hand against his shoulder, “God fucking knows what you did with her while we were together.”

Rafe  grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him. "Nothing happened with her," he snaps, his grip tightening for a second before he lets go, as if realizing he’s too close. "I never touched her."

You pull away, anger boiling over. "Does it even matter? You kept her close, closer than you kept me. You told her things! About us, like she’s some fucking therapist.” 

He reaches for you again, his hand hovering near your arm before he drops it. "I never meant for you to find out like that. I swear, I was trying to figure it all out—"

"Figure it out?!" You laugh, but it’s broken. "Rafe, you made me feel like I didn’t matter. Like I was some... some extra piece in your life. But with her? You told her everything. What was I to you?"

He shakes his head, frustration evident. "You were everything! You are everything. But I didn’t want to put you through it. All the shit with the team, with the offer—"

"That’s not your decision to make!" you shout, the words tearing through you. "You don’t get to choose what’s hard for me, what I can handle. I could’ve been there for you. We could’ve done it together, but you shut me out. And now you expect me to just—what? Let it go because you say you didn’t mean it?"

He stares at you, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the same old battle he’s always fought—wanting you but not knowing how to let you in. His hands curl into fists at his sides, and for a moment, it looks like he might say something���something real. 

"Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?" he asks quietly, his voice almost pleading. "If you were hurting this much, why didn’t you—"

"Why didn’t I?!" You cut him off, tears brimming in your eyes now. "Because you didn’t give me a chance, Rafe! You made it clear you didn’t need me like that. I thought maybe if I just held on a little longer, you'd let me in. You chose her, Rafe. You always choose her.”

“I didn’t choose her,” he says through gritted teeth, and there’s something desperate in his tone. “I’m standing right here. You think I like seeing you like this?”

“Then why do you keep doing it? Why can’t you just let me go?”

“I can’t,” he says, his voice strained, like the words are being ripped out of him. He grabs your hand, softer this time, “Because I’m still in love with you. I’ve never stopped.”

You remember all the half-truths, all the nights you waited for him to choose you.

You shake your head, “You only love me when it’s convenient. When you need me.”

“I told her things because I didn’t want to hurt you,” Rafe snaps, “I thought I was protecting you, keeping shit from getting messy.”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief. “Protecting me? You let her in, told her things you should’ve told me. You think that’s protecting me?”

His face contorts with something like regret, but you’re not sure if it’s enough to change anything. His chest is heaving, eyes wide and wild.

But then he just blurts out, “You kissed Elijah.”

You freeze.

Of all the things he could’ve said.

“You think that’s why we’re here right now?”

He doesn’t answer, just stares at you like you’ve ripped something out of him. Like you kissing someone else, even for a second kills him.

“You were already gone. We weren’t together.”

He flinches, “So, what? You kissed him to get back at me?”

“What the hell does Elijah have to do with any of this. You know what? Yes, I did. Because you didn’t even fight for us.”

“I didn’t fight for us?” he growls. “You broke up with me without even giving me a chance to explain. You didn’t even let me try to fix it. You just walked away.”

You ended things so quickly, so coldly, because you couldn’t handle the idea of fighting for someone who wasn’t fighting back. You didn’t even give him the chance to explain. 

“You think I didn’t want to fight for you?” His voice cracks, and for the first time, you see real pain behind his eyes. “I was trying to keep my shit together, trying to balance everything, and I fucked up, okay? But I never wanted to lose you.”

“Don’t fucking— “

“I watched you kiss him. I couldn’t fucking look away.” He interrupts it physically hurts him to admit it. “I was right there, front and center, like an idiot. And I still needed you after that. Do you know what that felt like? Watching you with him, like I didn’t even exist anymore?” He swallows, his jaw working overtime as he tries to hold it together, but you can see the cracks forming. “It was like everything that I didn’t say, everything I was too fucking scared to admit... it didn’t even matter. You just moved on.”

“Elijah doesn’t matter, okay? He never mattered. But you—” You pause, the words dying in your throat, because you don’t want to say it, don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deep he’s cut you. But you say it anyway. “You’re the one who made me feel like I didn’t matter. You don’t get it, do you?” Your voice is hoarse, worn from fighting, from trying to make him understand something he’s never been willing to face. “This isn’t about Elijah or Sofia or any of that. It’s about you. It’s about how you make me feel like I’m always one step behind, always waiting for you to choose me when I shouldn’t have to beg for it.”

His eyes well up, and for the first time, you see it — those emotions he’s kept locked away for so long. His lips tremble as he tries to say something, but the words get stuck, like he’s choking on everything he’s never been able to say before.

“I know,” he finally whispers, voice breaking. “I know it’s my fault.” His hands fall to his sides, defeated, and the tears spill over. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to see me like this… weak.”

Your chest tightens as you watch him, his face crumpling in a way you’ve never seen. This man who was always so put together, so guarded, unraveling right in front of you. You never thought you'd see him cry — not like this. Not in front of you. 

He takes a shaky breath, his voice barely a whisper now. “You were always so strong. So… so good. And I was terrified, okay? Terrified that if I let you see the real me, the part of me that’s so fucked up, you’d leave. That you’d realize I’m not enough. Not for you.”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, and suddenly you’re not as angry as you thought you’d be. You’re just... tired.

“Rafe…” you whisper, but the words stick in your throat, caught between wanting to comfort him and wanting to protect yourself.

“I know I fucked up,” he continues, his voice breaking with every word. “I pushed you away because I didn’t know how to be what you needed. I didn’t know how to let you in. And now you’re gone, and it’s my fault.” He wipes at his face, but the tears keep coming, his chest heaving with the weight of it all. “But I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I’m begging you for one more chance. Please.”

You don’t know what to say. You’ve dreamed about this moment — him finally opening up, letting you see him. But now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel the way you thought it would. You don’t feel victorious or relieved. You just feel... sad.

You want to believe that he’s changed, that this time will be different. But then you remember all the nights you spent alone, waiting for him to come home.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can go through this with you, only to end up back here. Hurt. Broken.”

“I’ll change,” he says desperately, stepping closer to you, his hands reaching out but stopping just short of touching you. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t lose you, not like this. Please.” His voice cracks again, and for the first time, you see it — the fear in his eyes. He’s terrified. Terrified of losing you for good. 

But you’re terrified too. You’re scared of giving him your heart again, only for him to break it.

“You don’t get it. I can’t keep waiting for you to figure your shit out while I’m left in pieces. I deserve more than that. I deserve someone who isn’t afraid to love me the way I deserve.”

His face crumples again, and he swallows hard, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to break free. “You do,” he whispers. “You do deserve that. And I swear, I’ll be that for you. I’ll be better. Let me fix it,” he pleads, “Please.”

“Fix what?” you shake your head, “This isn’t something you can patch up with pretty words or promises. I don’t trust you. Do you get that? I don’t trust us. You say you love me, but love isn’t supposed to feel like this. It’s not supposed to make me feel like I’m breaking every time I look at you.”

His shoulders slump, and for a second, he looks almost boyish, like a child who’s just realized he’s ruined his favorite toy. “You’re everything to me. I thought I was protecting you, but I see now that I was just... I was just pushing you away. Let me try.”

You close your eyes, the tears finally slipping down your cheeks as you shake your head. “I don’t know if you can.”

“Please,” he whispers again, “Don’t leave me. I-I can’t do this without you.”

You don’t know who you are without him either. He’s been such a part of you, woven into your heart in ways that can’t just be undone. Your heart breaks all over again, because you’ve wanted to hear those words for so long — needed him to need you the way you needed him. But now? You already left.

You wipe at your face with the back of your hand, trying to calm yourself. You can’t fall apart now, not when you’re finally seeing things clearly.

“I’m not leaving because I don’t love you,” you say softly, each word feeling like a knife to your chest. “I’m leaving because I do. But I can’t keep waiting for you to be the person I need. I can’t keep putting myself through this. You had so many chances to let me in, and every time, you chose to shut me out.”

Rafe looks like he’s about to argue, but then his face crumples, his shoulders slumping forward as he covers his face with his hands. He’s breaking, right in front of you, and it takes every ounce of strength you have not to fall apart with him. He looks at you like you’ve just ripped his heart out of his chest. 

“God, I’m sorry,” he sobs, his voice muffled behind his hands. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You swallow hard, your throat tightening as the tears keep coming. You’ve heard his apologies before — after every argument, every time he made you feel small and insignificant, he’d say he was sorry. But those words have lost their meaning.

“I know,” you whisper. “I know you’re sorry. But we’re not good for each other right now.”

“I love you,” he whispers, “I love you so fucking much.”

You bite your lip, tasting the salt of your own tears as you choke back a sob. “I know. And I love you too. 

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

I have a request! If you’re comfortable? No one else will :(

Okay so you and Daryl are just settling in Alexandria, Daryl is very sexually frustrated but he doesn’t say anything, thinking he’s ridiculous.

Eventually one night the two of you are just relaxing or something, maybe you have your hand on his thigh or you kiss him innocently and he really tries to hide how turned on he is just from that.

There’s no sex because before you know it, you’re both kissing and Daryl is humping against the couch or your leg and he finishes way too soon.

Sorry it’s so long but pleeeeeease 🩷🩷

Wound Up

Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.

Pairing: Daryl x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Mild, non explicit smut. Light angst/tension. Humping!

A/N: Hi Anon, thanks for this request, I am sorry it's taken me SO long. I'm sure you could find another author to do it more justice than I can, but here you are! I am on a mad catch up, and this was edited quite quickly so if you notice any errors please yell at me but politely and with a tone that implies you're not mad at me because I am a millennial who already assumed you are.

-

It's been weeks. Which in the grand scheme of things is hardly any time at all, especially considering how long he has been able to go without affection in his life. But without her specifically? Without her, mere minutes feel like a lifetime. Which is all a poetic way of saying Daryl is absolutely dying to be inside her. Frustrated doesn’t begin to cover it, if they’d have had walls for the past few weeks he’d have been climbing them. He’s only avoided climbing the walls they currently have because he’s been too damn busy.

Pining isn’t the word he’d use, if he’s honest with himself, though he has been basically drooling over her since the moment they first spoke and if anyone catches him staring, longing even, at her whilst they build walls and hold meetings and settle in, well that’s just unfortunate timing and they should mind their own business. The word he’d use is…yearning, which is a synonym for pining he supposes so yes, okay if anyone absolutely needs to know it’s pining.

He hadn’t been comfortable with sex before her, sure there’d been a few trysts and one-night stands (mostly at Merel’s insistence). Those were different though, hurried and anonymous and awkward as all hell. She changed everything. She had waited patiently, but openly for him to be ready, had never made a secret of what or who she wanted, and he still finds it hard to believe, after all this time, that its him. She’d snapped a coil inside of him he didn’t realise had been tightly wound, and once he’d gotten past his shy, unsure learning, once he stopped doubting that she wanted him, he’d practically devoured her whole at every given opportunity. He’d never been so sated in his life.

But there’s so many other things to worry about now, and it’s not like they could have done it on the road even if they weren’t dehydrated and starving. Weeks.

He almost ravaged her in the kitchen when she came downstairs dressed for Deanna’s welcome party, but she’d been so excited to go that he couldn’t stand to ruin it, instead kissing her deeply and telling her how beautiful she was. He should have attended, in hindsight, maybe he could have snuck off to a closet or a room somewhere like they used to on runs. And its not that spaghetti at Aarons place is bad, really its not, the food is delicious and the company, though hard for him, is easier than it is from others, but Aaron keeps asking questions about his wife, and every time he hears her name he physically has to bite back a groan.

Has never really been one for touching himself, he always feels guilty afterwards and it’s not really the relief he’s craving so much as her. Someone should tell his dick that though, because he’s been half hard for most of the goddamn day.

It takes him ten, maybe fifteen minutes if he’d counted, to go from faux nonchalance to full blown hormone raging teenage style lust. She’s returned from the party a little after midnight, stripped off her ‘too tight’ dress and burrowed herself into one of his large t-shirts and a clean pair of underwear. It would alarm Merle that he found this sexier, for all of his older brothers interest in bimbo style clothing and makeup clad bar dwellers, Daryl finds himself the most attracted to her like this. He tells her as much as they lay intertwined on the sofa, with her thigh slotted between his as they chatter about their evenings.

He's fine, he’s totally fine and he’s definitely coming across like he’s fine. She’s definitely not concerned enough to touch her hand to his cheek, ask if he’s alright before kissing him gently. He shatters, lowering his mouth to her neck to taste her.

He can’t help himself, really he can’t, hips thrusting with every delicious scratch of her nails through his hair. He hasn’t formed a single word in minutes, entire conversation cut down to contented sighs and frustrated groans. He’s too gone to stop himself by the time he hears her sharp intake of breath, hips speeding up as he grinds the hard length of himself against her upper thigh.

He’s not just a considerate lover, he’s agonisingly thorough, has never once finished without getting her there first. But now? He’s needy, he’s desperate.

“Slow down, Honey”

Her voice is floating, far away and upstream and coming at him from somewhere with no concept of time or space; he takes in the warmth of it, the affection laced tone he’s so used to but he couldn’t recall what she’s said if he needed to under threat of death.

“Missed ya” he grumbles against her neck, voice drifting away to catch hers “missed ya s’much”

He’s loosely aware that he’s still in his jeans, they’re too tight and not tight enough and her hands are tugging the hair he’d washed earlier so he finds he doesn’t care. Hips jerking, grinding into her so he doesn’t have to pull away even an inch. Delicious friction. His whole body is on fire, lost in her. He’ll be embarrassed by this later, but now he cares for nothing beyond the tight grip he has around her body and the soft moans he can hear in his ear as his thigh grinds between her legs.

He sucks a bruising kiss against her neck, feels the wet patch against his leg grow larger, hears the moans deepen. Eyes glazed and jaw agape, letting out whines and grunts and groans he doesn’t even realise he’s making. Drowning in the smell of her, the warmth of her body and the tangy taste of dried sweat as his mouths her collarbone.

She leans in a little more, grazing the bulge in his pants as she runs a hand through his now clean hair. She’s missed this as much as he had. She hadn’t wanted to push, he’d been exhausted and anxious, eyes flitting around for signs of trouble but she opens her eyes in time to see his come undone, cock pulsing heavily as he ruts and ruts and ruts against her thigh before stilling.

“Fuck ‘m sorry” he huffs against her, hot breath fanning out over close skin. He finally opens his eyes, feels his own lopsided grin as he takes her in, pupils blown wide as he fingers grip the taut muscles of his arm.

“It’s alright” she smiles, and he’s not having that, is not going to let himself off the hook like she’s intending to, not ever but especially not when he can feel heat radiating against his leg, not when she’s looking at him like he’s dinner. He’s a considerate lover, agonisingly slow and thorough, but now? When he can see she’s needy and desperate. Now the fog in his brain is clearer?

He trails his hands down her body, smirking as she shivers. Safe, warm fingertips find their way to the waistline of her underwear.

“Le’me make it up t’ ya”