#i feel like i should sleep downstairs so i can keep an eye on him and make sure he's acting normally

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

WHISPERED VOWS MASTERLIST here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Reader Needs To Speak Up

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUt

You stare at the screen of your computer and yawn. You haven't gotten a lot of sleep the past few nights. Yoongi has been gone again at night more frequently, opting to sleep in his studio in small spurts in between working. He tells you that he's so close to finishing the album, but you'll believe it when you see it. As of right now, you don't believe him at all. This has now been the third time he told you that. You have been keeping yourself busy trying to make the decision of what cake you want to try at your tasting next week. You get ten flavors to sample, and you are taking it very seriously. Your guest won't remember your vows after the wedding but they will remember if the cake was bad. Compared to everything else, this is the one thing you were looking forward to.

“What are feelings on fondant?” You ask Seungkwan. He looks up at you from across the room and makes a face. “Buttercream it is.”

“What does Yoongi want?” he asks.

“He doesn't care for cake, so he'll leave it up to me,” you tell him with a sigh. “Just like everything else. At least he is coming with me to sample them. So, I'll take it as a win.”

“You should talk to him about it,” he says, typing away on his computer. “If it's getting to be too much, you need to say something.”

“No, I took responsibility to plan everything. I can't go back on my word,” you tell him as you lean back and close your eyes. “I got your sister's email. The picture of the bouquet she sent is beautiful.”

“Oh, I'm glad,” he said with a small smile. “What did you go with?”

“Dark burgundy delilahs and white roses. Seriously, Seungkwan, thank you. I really appreciate it,” you say. “Anyway, I'm hungry. I'm going to hit the vending machine downstairs on the studio level. Did you want anything?”

“We have vending machines on our floor too,” Seungkwan tells you with a knowing look.

“I'm not up to anything. They have Oreos down there,” you say, defending yourself. “All we have are protein bars.”

“I guess I'll take a pack as well,” he relents.

Grabbing your card from your bag, you leave your office and take the elevator downstairs. You weren't lying….technically. The studio level does indeed have better snacks in the vending machine, but you can't help it if you have to walk by Yoongi's studio to get to it. Your chances of actually running into him were slim, but hey, you'll take the chance.

Leaving the elevator, you round the corner past Hobi's studio and then down past Yoongi's studio to get to the coveted snack machine. Sliding your card, you press the correct number for your cookies, the machine roars to life and pushes your cookies out. Bending down, you take them from the bottom of the machine and repeat. Only this time, the Oreos do not drop once you press the correct buttons. They get stuck between the coil holding them and the small black divider to its side.

“No,” you say into the empty hallway. You give the button another press and another, but still nothing happens. You gave the machine a big whack this time, but the only thing that you managed to do was hurt your hand. “Ouch!” You exclaim and shake your hand.

“Need help,” a voice says, startling you. You didn't even hear a door open.

Shit. Kai is smiling at you when you look to see who came to your rescue. He looks just as handsome as you remember, but this is not the best place to be seen with him. Not when you can look past him and see your fiancée's door. Fucking Orero's. They were too good to resist. You need to lay off the junk food. You should have gone with the protein bars.

“Um, sure. Thanks,” you say and back away from the vending machine.

Kai presses both his hands at the top of the vending machine and gently rocks it back and forth. It probably takes less than ten seconds before the sweet snack hits the bottom of the machine. He reaches down and retrieves them for you. Standing back up, he smiles and hands them to you.

“Thanks,” you say again, taking them from him and then proceed to take a few extra steps away from him.

“Y/N, right?” He asks you and leans on the machine he just manhandled. “Lisa's friend. We met at Jimin's party.”

“Yeah, that's me,” you say, standing there awkwardly in front of him. “I should…”

“You know it's a shame that our night was cut short at that party. I had a good time talking to you,” he comments, and you can hear the elevator ding. “Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day tonight?”

“No,” you say quietly. Is that today? You have completely forgotten.

“Is your boyfriend working tonight? He works here, right? Your boyfriend is a producer in the company? I think I have seen around….he glares a lot.”

“Fiancée and part owner actually,” Jimin says, walking up to the two of you. He slings his arm around his friend's shoulder. “I think Y/N needs to head back to work.” Jimin widens his eyes and jerks his head quickly. You stare at him strangely but decide to just go with it.

“Yeah, umm, very busy,” you say as Jimin still motions for you to go.

“Oh,” Kai said, looking amused. “So busy you had to have a cookie break? You don't seem that busy to me.”

“Yup, she just needs sugar every now and then, or she gets angry. I think she …realllyyy….needs to go. She should also…take the stairs. Now.” Jimin says.

Your eyes widen. You finally get it. Yoongi was probably on his way down. You turn quickly, running down the hall and heading for the door hiding the stairwell. You hear Kai say something to Jimin, but you were too busy running for your life to catch what it was. You make a sound of defeat when you open the door. Do you want to take four flights of stairs in heels? No. Do you want Yoongi to catch you with Kai? Absolutely not. You'll take the chance of busting your ass in your heels because it was better than the alternative.

Huffing and puffing, you make it back into your office and throw the cookies at Seungkwan, hitting him squarely in the chest. Who then made a disapproving sound when they hit him. You throw yourself in your chair and wipe your forehead with your hand. Man, you're out of shape.

“What happened?” he asks, opening the snack you got him and shoves one in his mouth.

“Kai happened,” you say and don't elaborate. You just hope that Yoongi doesn't find out.

Did anything interesting happen today?

It should have been an innocent text from Yoongi, but you knew better. He knew that you must have talked to Kai earlier, but you don't know who told him. Would Jimin go through all that trouble to help you and then rat you out? Probably. Not that there was anything to tell because you did nothing wrong. You bite your lip and think about how you want to answer this. You weigh your options. You can be brat about this, or you can fess up and be honest. Your fingers tap the side of your phone in thought. This is the fifth night in a row that he wouldn't be home, and your eyes drift to that red trunk that has yet to be discovered in your closet. You chose brat.

I got me and Seungkwan Oreos. You responded by typing back.

That all?

Yup, I wanted to save my energy for tonight. You write back.

Getting out of bed, you go to your closet and drop to your knees in front of that red chest. You take off the blanket and hoodies that you threw on top of it, placing everything to the side. You're going to take Lisa's advice and send Yoongi a quick picture. Of what exactly….you're not quite sure yet. Opening the lid, your face still burns with embarrassment, looking at everything that Lisa bought for you. You don’t even know where to start.

What's tonight? he types back.

You reach inside and grab what you think she called a personal massager. A deep purple device was one of the more innocent looking items in the box. Your eyes next land on the leather handcuffs, and you quickly snatch them as well before you could talk yourself out of it. Taking a breath, you put everything back before walking back over to the bed. Chucking your shirt off over your head, leaving your top half completely exposed. You lie down on your stomach, moving the toy close to your body and squish your boobs together between your arms. Positioning your device in what you hope is just the right angle to make you look enticing you snap a picture using the timer. You look at the result, and you are actually kind of impressed. Not bad.

Solo play, you answer with the accompanied picture and hit send.

Your palms become sweaty, your hands shake, and your eyes become large as you stare at your phone screen. What did you do? Oh, no! What did you do? Can you unsend a text? Please, you just want to take it back. Your hands start to flail around in the air by your head in panic. Your heart stops as the message goes from delivered to read.

“Oh shit,” you whisper to yourself and grab your shirt to cover yourself.

You watch as the dreaded dots appear on the screen, showing that he was responding. Your mouth goes dry, and suddenly, they disappear, but nothing comes through. You wait and wait, but again, nothing comes through. He's not going to respond. You don't know if you should be relieved or embarrassed that he probably didn't like it. Maybe Lisa doesn't know what she is talking about after all. You thought maybe you could salvage Valentines, but now you feel just plain stupid and a little unwanted. It kind of hurt. Tossing your phone on the bed, you lazily roll yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom to shower. Maybe you can wash away your idioticness.

When you open the bathroom door after your shower, the steam rolls out behind you. You tighten the towel that is wrapped around your freshly cleaned body as you head back to the bedroom. Stepping over the threshold into said room, you freeze. Yoongi is sitting on the edge of the bed. In his hands was that deep purple toy. His eyes look up at you through the strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead and into his eyes. Your pulse quickens. You guess Lisa does, in fact, know what she is talking about. You watch him reach over and grab the discarded cuffs. He dangles them off one of his slim fingers and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Solo play, huh?” he asks, resting both his elbows on his knees.

“I didn't think that you would come,” you tell him, holding your towel tighter like it was going to hide you somehow. Hide away the embarrassment of your actions.

Yoongi stands up from the bed after he discards the gifts on the bed and approaches you slowly. Once he reaches you, he slides his hand down your bare arm. The excess water in your hair starts to drip down your exposed skin, sending a chill through you. You noticeably shiver, and Yoongi pulls you closer to him. Bending his head, he captures your lips with his own, giving you a soft, teasing kiss.

“Do you still want it to be solo, or can I join?” he whispers against your lips.

You slip your hands to the hem of his shirt and pull up. Yoongi lifts his arms, helping you bring it over his head and taking it off the rest of the way by himself. Pulling his head down to you, you press your mouth against his. Yoongi moves his hands to your wet tangled hair, gripping your head tightly, keeping you where you were.

“Were you thinking of me?” he asks, pulling away slightly and pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yoongi,” you whimper and try to look away, but the hold on your head doesn't let you.

“What? You can't send me pictures like that and be embarrassed, baby,” he tells you as he kisses a path from your cheek to your neck. “You don't think that I haven't touched myself thinking about you? Hmmm, because I have…and I do.”

Something in you snaps, and you grab him, kissing him hard as you think about him alone in his studio, stroking himself. He groans into your mouth, holding you close against his body. You place your hands on his chest and back him up to the bed. The both of you falling onto it once the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, mouths still connected. Pulling away, you crawl off of him and move to the center of the bed. Yoongi twists around trying to grab for you, but you stay out of his reach, and you make him follow you up the bed.

You gently push him back against the pillows when he reaches out for you again, and you climb onto his lap. Leaning down, you press your mouth to his again. His hands travel to the top of your twisted towel, and he gently pulls it apart, giving him the treat of your naked body with small water droplets now dripping down onto the both of you. He relaxes underneath you and takes in every inch of you as his hands run up over the top of your thighs and land on your hips.

You reach over and grab the black leather cuffs that are laid beside you. You toy with them and undo the velcro with a loud shkriiiiip. He smirks at you and wets his lips with his tongue. One hand goes to your face. lovingly strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“You want me to cuff you to the bed, baby?” he questions, his voice deep with desire. You smile shyly back at him and shake your head. His eyes narrow at you for a moment before laughing silently. Yoongi places his hands above his head, resting them on the pillow and raises an eyebrow at you. He's daring you to do it. “It's okay.”

You lean over him and wrap his wrist in the leather before hooking the other side through the dark wooden slats of the headboard. Repeating the same treatment to the other wrist, he willing lies there at your mercy. You want to keep here so he can't leave you for days, almost weeks at a time like he always does. God, you miss him, and you don't know how much longer you can last like this. The loneliness at night has almost become unbearable. The silence was almost too loud.

Taking his mouth with yours again, your tongues dance together naturally as your mouths open for one another. He groans in your mouth as you ground your hips onto his pelvis. Your lips pull away with a smack, and you slither your way down his body as you maintain eye contact with him. You can see that his breathing has picked up by the way his chest moves up and down. If that wasn't a sure sign of him liking this, the straining in his sweatpants definitely did.

Settling yourself on the bed between his legs, you run your hand over his clothed erection. Yoongi bucks his hips up into your touch and lets out a harsh, shuddering breath. Reaching for the top of his sweats, you curl your fingers around the fabric and pull them over his hips. You stop in surprise when you realize that he didn't have anyone underneath. Your eyes meet his, and he smirks and gives a slight shrug as best as he can, given his current position.

Pulling them the rest of the way off, you grab his hardness and bring your mouth down to him. Giving his tip one small lick, you pull away. You sit back on your heels and stare at him with an innocent smile before crawling back up his body. You rest your weight on your hands as you hover your face over his.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” you say quietly, and his eyes widen in recognition.

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly, but you shut him up with a kiss.

“I forgot too, until….Kai reminded me,” you tell him with a knowing look, and he narrows his eyes.

“I bet he fucking did,” he growls.”He was so fucking smug talking to Jimin about you.”

“Oh,” you say and drop your hips onto his hardness that was lying against his flat stomach. You languidly move your wet core back and forth along it. Letting the motion stimulate your clit.

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly as his eyes rolled back slightly. “Fuck, keep going.”

“Nothing happened,” you tell him as you lift your hips off of him, denying him your touch. “I barely even said two words to him.”

“I trust you,” he says, taking a deep breath

“Do you?” You ask him seriously.

“With my whole heart,” he says, lifting his head for a kiss. You lean down and press your mouth to his once again before moving your kiss to his neck. Yoongi's head falls back onto the pillow. “Baby, can we talk about this later. My cock is so hard it hurts.”

Sitting up you reach between your legs, you grab his cock and run the head along your folds, coating him with your natural slickness before slowly sinking onto him. Yoongi pushes his tongue against the side of cheek as he watches you take all of him with rapt attention. You lean forward with your hands on his chest and press your forehead against his as you start to slowly move up and down on him. You close your eyes and savor the feeling of him inside of you as you take your time. The feeling of fullness replacing the ache of emptiness and loneliness that has plagued you for months now. The hot flame within you that has dulled finally roared back to life.

Yoongi plants his feet flat on the bed and thrusts his hips up against you. His hard dick spears you over and over again as you fall forward from the force of his hips hitting you and bury your face into his neck. You let out a strangled moan as he takes control.

“Undo me, Y/N,” his raspy voice commands. “I need to get my mouth on you.”

You reach up blindly and pull the velcro off one of the cuffs. With his wrist successfully freed, he hurriedly grabs the opposite side and undos it himself. Sitting up, he throws them to the floor and gently guides you off him. He grabs your waist and turns you so you can lie down in his previously occupied spot before he grabs your knees, spreading you open for him.

Lying on his stomach, Yoongi presses a kiss to your throbbing clit. His fingers run up and down your opening gathering your wetness before sinking them into you. You sigh and wiggle your hips in response. Sticking his tongue out he traces small circles around you as his fingers start a slow rhythm pumping into you.

“Do you want me to use that?” he asks, jerking his head to the deep purple toy.

“NO!” You exclaim and cover your face.

Yoongi moves up up your body, hovering over you as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you. He crooks them at the perfect angle that has you gasping and grabbing at his shoulders. Yoongi leans down and kisses your cheek before pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. You press your head further into the pillow underneath you with a whimper.

“Let me use it. Please?” he asked, tongue licking a wet stripe underneath your jaw. You bite your lip as he shoves his fingers into you at a rapid pace that is just as deep.

“Fuck,” you gasp out. “Okay, okay. Use it.”

Yoongi pulls his fingers out of you quickly and grabs onto the massager. His hand fumbles with it for a second before he finds the button to turn it on. The low hum of the messenger and the dark look in his eyes make your mouth go dry. Placing his lips on yours, he trails the deep purple toy down between your breast over your stomach before reaching his final destination. A whine escapes your lips as the vibration hits your sensitive spot.

“Shhh,” he says softly. “I got you. Stop me if it's too much.”

Yoongi moves down the bed, resting on his knees before sinking his fingers back into you. Holding the toy against you, his fingers start pumping into you at a furious pace. Tapping that innermost spongy spot repeatedly has your wetness dripping out of you with every push and pull of his fingers. Your hands reach up and grab on to the wooden slats of the headboard and squeeze tightly. Your hips start to gyrate, and your breathing picks up, making your chest heave up and down.

“God, I miss seeing you like this,” Yoongi growls at you.

“I….I….,” you struggle with words as your hips jump. Your inner walls rhythmically pulse around his fingers, slicking them even more. “STOP!” You manage to sob out. He throws the toy down on the bed in an instant and looks at you with wide eyes. “You…I….I want you.”

“I'm here,” he said, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I am right here. Are you sure you want more?”

“Please, I need it,” you whimper.

Yoongi lines himself up to your entrance and plunges himself all the way. Your back arches as you bring your arm around his shoulders and pull him down to you. Your chests press together, his face buried in your neck, legs wrapped around his waist as his hips thump repeatedly against your own wildly. You feel delirious as his lips attach to your neck sucking hard enough to mark you. You sink your hand into his hair, tugging him off your neck.

“Got to show him your mine, baby. He acts like he can have you. Can he have you? ” he growls in your ear, and you shake your head, unable to speak. His hips pick up in tempo as the headboard starts to rhythmically bang against the wall loudly. “I'm not going to last much longer,” he pants. “You are going to come again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you pant.

Reaching out, he grabs the discarded toy. Turning it back on, he sneaks it between your bodies to touch it to your clit. You both moan loudly as it makes contact as the vibrations rush through both of you. You feel yourself clench around his hardened length as you cry out, your wetness coating his length. Yoongi hums deeply in satisfaction at the feeling of your pulsating core that surrounds him. His own hips stutter and lose rhythm, toy falling out of his hand as you slap it away when it becomes too much. Slamming his mouth against yours, his hips give you one more hard thrust before he stiffens and comes deep inside of you.

Yoongi drops his head onto your shoulder, panting. You slowly graze your nails up and down his back as you stare up at the ceiling. You can feel his lips lightly connect with the front of your shoulder in what you think is a loving gesture. A tear falls out of the corner of your eye, and you quickly wipe it away. The roaring fire within you minutes ago has gone back to that dull flame. It's a flame that barely flickers and fights to stay lit. You're scared.

Fuck.

Tagged Readers

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia

[scarletcomet]

might have accidentally given my bunny 2 doses of the same antibiotic instead of 2 different antibiotics, and now im freaking out.

[ham1lton]

don’t trust the bitch in apt 33!

— part one of four.

pairings: max verstappen x reader.

summary: your new apartment in monaco is amazing. it’s close to your friends, family and work, it has incredible amenities and your neighbours for the most part seem kind. the only issue is your upstairs neighbour, who games all night and sleeps all day, and is insufferably loud while doing it.

author’s note: also this is a little longer than my usual smaus. the usernames might also be slightly different as this is an au!!also i am updating my taglist!

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

liked by bestie1, bestie2 and 245 others.

yourusername: moving day done!! shout out to my sexy movers <3

tagged: apartmentrush.

view all 78 comments

bestie1: the pizza was soooo good 😋

-> bestie2: so yum 😋

-> bestie1: so good… we should come around again this week and have it again??

-> bestie2: yes….. we should….

-> yourusername: 🙄 fine. come round on saturday!

workbestie: so excited to see you at work on monday!!

-> yourusername: me too!!! i’ll bring the coffee <3

apartmentrush: welcome to our community!

-> yourusername: glad to be here :)

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

liked by landonorris, max.fan1 and 1,728,982 others.

gamermax: just completed another successful 24 hour stream! thank you all for helping me raise money for the sassy animal shelter! also thank you @ landonorris for stocking my fridge up!

view all 234,793 comments

user1: ur so fine.

-> user4: was i the only one staring at his hands the entire stream????

-> user9: i mean. we barely see his face, that’s probably why.

georgerussell63: lando is trying to kill you! that’s why he’s an awful community president. all that redbull will have your heart exploding.

-> landonorris: not this shit again 🙄

-> georgerussell63: profanity on a public platform? another TICK against your name.

user7: is it truly a max post without a cat meme?

*liked by gamermax.*

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

from lnorris4@rushapartment.co.uk.

to grussell63@rushapartment.co.uk, c.leclerc16@rushapartment.co.uk, lhamilton44@rushapartment.co.uk, ynln77@rushapartment.co.uk, mverstappen33@rushapartment.co.uk and 45 others.

subject: MEETING REMINDER.

thanks,

lando norris.

rush apartment president.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

you head upstairs to knock on this max’s door, dressed in your night clothes. your sleep mask across your forehead, your bonnet on and your skin still glistening from your skin routine. you knock on the door loudly. you hear swearing as someone falls over and then stands to open the door. the door opens to show a twenty something guy with a pair of streaming headphones on his head. he gives you an obvious look up and down before tilting his head in confusion.

“uh, can i help you?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“you can start by keeping it down,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “some of us need sleep.”

his eyes widen slightly, and he pulls the headphones down around his neck. “oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i was being that loud.”

“well, you are,” you retort. “it’s three in the morning, and i have to work tomorrow. this is ridiculous.”

he runs a hand through his messy hair, looking genuinely apologetic. “i didn’t know anyone was in the apartment below. no one’s been there for a while. i’m max, by the way.”

“yn,” you reply shortly, not in the mood for pleasantries. “just please, keep it down.”

“i will, i promise,” max says earnestly. “i’ve got these noise-canceling headphones, and sometimes i forget how loud i’m being. i’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

you study him for a moment, still irritated but starting to believe his sincerity. “okay. goodnight, max.”

“goodnight, yn,” he replies, giving you a small, apologetic smile. “and good luck at work tomorrow.”

you turn to leave, feeling a mix of lingering frustration and unexpected intrigue. as you head back downstairs, you can’t help but wonder if he’ll actually keep his promise.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

MEETING TRANSCRIPT.

[sound of murmuring voices and rustling papers as the meeting starts]

NORRIS: alright, everyone, let's get started. we’re here to address some noise complaints. yn, you had a specific issue?

LN: (angrily) yes, my upstairs neighbor, max, keeps making noise late at night. i've talked to him, but it hasn’t stopped.

RUSSELL: (salty) typical. this is why i should have been president. i would’ve sorted this out immediately.

NORRIS: (sighs) george, not now. let’s focus on the issue at hand. alex, any thoughts?

ALBON: (trying to smooth things over) well, it’s important for everyone to be considerate of their neighbors. but, you know, people have different schedules. maybe max can use quieter equipment?

HAMILTON: (working on his laptop, half-heartedly) yeah, yeah. quieter equipment. great idea. can we move on? i’ve got a deadline.

LECLERC: (confused) what’s going on again? can we just finish this? i want to go home and see my uh… friends.

TSUNODA: (munching on snacks) i brought these for everyone! maybe we can bribe max with food to be quieter?

LN: (exasperated) i don’t think snacks will solve the problem. i just want to sleep in peace.

NORRIS: (rubbing his temples) max isn’t here because he owns his apartment, and these meetings are mandatory for renters or new buyers. so, we’re kind of stuck.

RUSSELL: (grumbling) see? this is why lando’s presidency is a joke.

NORRIS: (angry) oh give it a rest, george!

ALBON: (egging them on) oh, come on, george. let’s not make this about the election again. unless you want us to go over our allocated time.

HAMILTON: (still working) can we wrap this up? i’m really busy here.

BUTTON: (chuckling) you’re always busy lewis.

RUSSELL: jenson why are you even here. these meetings aren’t mandatory for you.

BUTTON: (smirking) maybe i like the company.

LECLERC: (standing up) i’m leaving. this is pointless.

TSUNODA: (offering more snacks) anyone want some chips before we go? charles, you’ll need the energy when you go visit your ‘friends’ later.

HAMILTON: and let them know to keep it down, some of can’t work through all that noise.

LECLERC: (blushing) uh, yeah, sure... i’ll let them know.

NORRIS: (defeated) fine. meeting adjourned. we’ll try to talk to max again, but for now, let’s just… go back to our lives.

[sound of chairs scraping and people leaving, with no resolution in sight]

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

new taglist: @23victoria @maxlarens.

— want to be tagged for any future works? join my new taglist!

[roosterr]

if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333

the 141 falls asleep on you

wc: 2.1k

hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)

price

✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.

✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.

✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.

✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.

✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.

✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.

✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.

✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.

✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.

✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.

✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.

✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.

✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"

✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.

✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.

gaz

✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.

✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.

✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"

✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."

✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.

✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."

✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.

✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.

✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.

✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.

✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.

✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.

✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."

soap

✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.

✹ but it hadn't happened like that  of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.

✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.

✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.

✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.

✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.

✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.

✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"

✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"

✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.

✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"

✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.

✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.

✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.

✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.

✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.

✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"

ghost

✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.

✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.

✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.

✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.

✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.

✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.

✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.

✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.

✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.

✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.

✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.

✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.

✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.

✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.

[darnell-la]

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗜𝗫

pairing: dark!dom!Logan Howlett x non-mutant!fem!reader

warning: drugging, head butting, oral (fem receiving), nightmare fuck, woken from sleep, rough fuck, multiple orgasms, obsession, etc.

note: we can’t stop writing about this man. he’s everything we need.

please like, COMMENT, follow, reblog, and REQUEST us!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits and memes of the people we write about!

————————————————————————

𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩

“Maybe you’re just no one’s type anymore, sugar. That attitude doesn’t sit well on women like you,” Logan said across the bar after hearing y/n complain to Storm that it’s hard to find a person she’s interested in.

“Or maybe you can mind your business!?” Y/n turned to look his way with a yell. Storm slightly touched her back to calm her now. “No! — I’m tired of him talking. It’s not like you’re so sweet yourself!” Y/n said.

Logan looked at the frustrated young lady with a grin as he placed his cigar in his mouth. “Ain’t like your dick could stand up still either,” she said, making the people who were listening, laugh.

“Ahh, wouldn’t you like to know,” Logan said, unfazed by the small words she tried to use to hurt his feelings. “Actually, I wouldn’t, because even Jean didn’t want a piece of you. And that was when you were younger,” she said.

People were shocked at her words, still laughing but watching out how much. They knew mentioning Jane was a topic he hated hearing.

“Watch what you say. Just because you ain’t a mutant, don’t mean I won’t handle you,” Logan said. Of course, her heart rate raised, but she stood her ground as she got up from the bar seat.

“Try me,” she said, making the metal-boned man laugh as he approached her. He could see her chest rise, knowing she wanted nothing she challenged him to do.

Logan looked back at Storm who was shaking her head as she pointed at the shit glasses y/n had downed. A whole tray that hold at least fifteen was insane for a human.

Logan looked back at y/n understanding why she felt so much emotion tonight. Her eyes were glossy and she slightly swayed back and forth. She was definitely halfway to passing out.

Logan leaned forward, mouth slightly grazing Y/n’s ear. “Go to bed, sweet cheeks,” Logan said as his hot breath hit the side of her face before heading to his room.

It’s been a few weeks since the incident at the bar with Logan. Y/n decided to keep it cool for a while until no one expected anything.

“Logan, can you please get my phone from the living room while I cook, please?” Y/n asked. He sighed loudly, always grumpy about something as he got up and walked out of the kitchen.

Y/n quickly pulled two pills out of her pocket and dropped them into his full glass of liquor. She had gone through the pharmacy they had for mutants downstairs, and searched for something that would make him rethink what he said to her.

Y/n went to walk away until she stopped and thought of his constant bullying since she got here.

Y/n pulled two boxes from her other pocket, took every pill from their wrapper, and dumped them in his drink. “One for your lazy dick, and the other energy since I should go to sleep early,”

Y/n quickly through the trash in the bin before running back to continue cooking. “Almost done,” she smiled as he placed her phone down with a fake smile back.

“For a mutant, you sure do get tired walkin’ room to room,” y/n snickered as he downed his drink. If he looked at the glass, he would’ve noticed something off, but he didn’t think of it.

“Does liquor get old these days? Fuckin’ hell,” Logan spoke with a few coughs. Y/n did her best, to keep her laughing. He had no clue.

“Logan, relax!” Y/n heard Scott yell somewhere in the mansion. At first, she thought they were arguing again until something broke and Jane screamed. What the hell is going on?

Y/n quickly got up from her bed and ran out of her room, toward where ever they were. “Logan, relax! Y-You’re safe!” Jane spoke. She’s told y/n she had to use those words whenever he got out of control.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked as she stepped around the corner. Logan’s head instantly snapped towards her. “No,” Scott said, having a feeling what Logan was going to do.

“Y/n, stay back. H-He’s not doing well right-“ Jean spoke but got knocked out of the way by Logan running towards y/n. As well as Scott.

Y/n tried to run, but before she could turn all the way around, he grabbed her, quickly throwing her over his shoulders before running away.

“Hey! — Let me go, Logan! Stop it!” She yelled as he ran towards the front door. Where was he taking her? Why was he taking her? He almost made it out of the mansion with her in hand until Storm used the wind to drag y/n back.

Logan stumbled, realizing she wasn’t in his hold anymore. He turned around stepped forward followed after y/n was dragged back until he looked up to see the whole crew staring right back at him.

Logan let out a loud growl before running off and out into the darkness of night.

“What the fuck!” Y/n shouted as Storm lifted her up and Jean checked her for any bruises. “What the hell is his problem?” Y/n asked as Scott ran out of the house to see where Logan had run off.

“Motherfucker’s taking my bike!” Scott shouted. “We don’t know. He was sitting on the couch, eatin’ the rest of the food you cooked, as always, then — then he started switching,” Jean said.

“At first it was mild, but I noticed it first. He then asked where you were and if we thought you’d be asleep yet,” Storm said. “We said we didn’t know, and he instantly grew angry,” Jean said.

“Motherfucker got up to go to your room and I stopped him before he could,” Scott said as he ran back into the mansion. It was late and y/n was confused. What was happening?

Y/n’s currently in her room as the crew took the yet to go find Logan. Xavier came with them. He said, maybe if he got closer to Logan, he could ease into his mind.

The school has been out for a couple of weeks, so the kids are either with their parents or in buddy groups somewhere in instate.

This means y/n has the whole mansion to herself on one of the worst days possible. While an animal is loose. A wild animal.

Y/n thought if she closed her eyes and went to sleep, she wouldn’t stress as much, so that’s what she did. Now she’s deep in her sleep, dreaming about what she was trying to distract herself from. Logan.

Logan was chasing her through the long halls. Every door being locked and the hall getting longer was the most terrifying part of the nightmare.

He chased her for what felt like hours. Each time he spoke, it felt like he was closer.

“Don’t run” “Stay still” “Mhm — That’s it” “All that shit talkin’ and you’re cryin’. Pathetic,” he said with a chuckle following behind his voice.

“Please, someone help!” She yelled in her dreams as she felt his breath on her neck. She was caught. Logan grabbed y/n and dragged her to a room that would’ve been locked for her.

“You’re a fast one, but I’ve gotcha,” he growled low as he hovered over the girl, lips inches from hers. “Smellin’ so good for me. You’re such a tease,” Logan ripped her clothes off. They disappear into dust. She knew she had to be dreaming.

“Runnin’ from me, but you’re soaked. You’re a lair, baby,” he said as he slipped her panties off, sniffing them before placing them in his back pocket. “Now how about ya cum for me?”

Y/n woke up slowly, hearing a voice in her room. “Now how about ya cum for me?” She heard for the second time, but in between her legs. Y/n whined as she looked down, not knowing what was happening until she saw him.

Logan was in between her legs, sucking on her pussy like a starved man. “Logan!” She screamed, scared at first until her back arched from the full effect of his tongue all over and between her folds.

Logan watched her reaction as he ducked on her hard, eating her out rougher than before. He’s been at this for. Good thirsty minutes and still couldn’t get enough.

“Gimme another,” he said. “What? — I-I don’t- Fuck,” y/n’s eyes rolled back. He was working her just right. He knew he was. He’s been waiting all night. From when he was eating the rest of dinner, to when he hid in the woods, waiting for the crew to leave, to sneaking in her room, hoping not to wake her up too early.

“Give me a 6th one, heh? Then I’ll fill ya up,” Logan said as he slipped two fingers into her cunt, curling and pumping into her to force another one he so desperately wanted.

The instant pressure of his fingers sent y/n over the edge with a loud cry and shake. She came all over his face, wetting him like a waterpark.

“Fuuuck,” Logan groaned, feeling in heaven. “Can never get tired of that, princess,” Logan said as he crawled up and over her until he attacked his lips onto her, softly.

Y/n kissed back for a second, feeling too deep into the mood. She only lasted for a little bit after she woke up, but she was sure this was the best orgasm she’s ever had.

“Logan- Logan!” Y/n pushed at his chest, making him lean back. “W-We can’t. They’re looking for you and you’re — You’re here eating me out and making out with me and-“ y/n’s mind ran everywhere until he cut her off with a short kiss.

“It’s okay, sugar. I need them out of the house for what I’m about to do to you,” Logan said, confusing her. “Logan — You’re feeling this way because I drugged you,” y/n blurted out.

Logan forced over her as she slapped her hands over her face in embarrassment. “Saying that out loud makes me feel bad, but, yes. I put a whole box of energy pills and Viagra on your drink when you went and grabbed my phone — I-I’m sorry,” y/n genuinely apologizes.

She thought he was going to lash out before she heard him chuckle. That chuckle turned into a laugh as he leaned up off of the bed.

“Baby, I pieced that together when I was in the living room, eatin,” Logan said as y/n backed up against her headboard. “My plan was to go up to your room and confront you before fucking you into your mattress, but Scott stopped me,”

“Then I saw you come around the corner and thought I could fuck you into the dirty in the woods like the low and pathetic slut you are, but Scott stopped me again,”

“So I ran — I knew they’d come looking for me. I waited in the woods for nearly an hour. Cock throbbing. Balls waiting to empty. I wanted to jack one off right then, but I knew it wouldn’t have been enough,”

“Besides — I’d rather fill every whole you’ve got to satisfy my needs,” Logan said before lunging at y/n. Y/n screamed and fought, trying to get from under him, but there was no use. He was stronger and wild. He needed her now.

“Keep fightin, baby. Always seemed hot knowing you couldn’t overpower me, even if you tried,” he mocked as he ripped his jeans off of him, as well as his boxers.

“N-No, no, no! Logan, I-I’m not doing this. I’m not doing — That!” Y/n said after seeing his length. He was long. He was huge. Veins nearly covered the whole thing. His balls looked stiff and in need of release.

“You’re gonna take it. You brought this on yourself, princess,” Logan said as he ripped his shirt off. Y/n had just noticed she was fully naked. He had stripped her from her nightgown when she was sleeping.

“I-It was a mistake!” Y/n tried pushing back as he came in between her legs. “Was it though? I smell how wet you get around me every day. All that anger is just an excuse because you’re too bitchy to ask for my cock,” Logan looked directly into her eyes, just a few inches away.

“Well, you won’t have to ask anymore. I’ve got the picture from now on,” Logan forced his huge length inside of y/n, stretching her walls in an instant. She cried at the pain but moaned at the pleasure.

“Yeah,” he growled, teeth stuck together. “Gonna fuck you all fuckin’ night,” Logan’s hips began to move at an ungodly pace. The huge man leaned over y/n like an inhuman form. Deep down he was.

He placed her legs on his shoulders and pushed down into her like some duck doll he had ready in his room for him.

Her lower back was slightly in the air. She could him thrust into her fully. She was forced to watch him use her cunt like some movie.

“L-Logan,” y/n threw her head back as she came unexpectedly from the angle he had her in. “Look at that waterfall. So fuckin’ pretty,” Logan wished he could slurp her up, but he was too busy digging in her guts for more.

“You know — That comment about Jean back at the bar — It was unnecessary,” Logan began a conversation with y/n. She was so confused about how because she was struggling to keep her mind straight. Her head already seemed light.

“I should’ve dragged you to my room then, but I was calm. Noticed you had a few drinks. Drinks always make sluts act out,” he spat.

“Anyway — About Jean. Yeah, I lost feelings a while ago. You wanna know when? When you came along,” he admitted. “Those sexy jeans and top that hugged your body set me off, quick. Jean was outta there,”

“Then your personality. Sweet and precious but evil to people like me. People who’re assholes,” he leaned closer to her face. “But, you know what, baby? I think you like assholes. Just look at the way you take my cock. I’m basically bullying myself into you,”

He wasn’t wrong. Before y/n signed up to teach at the school slash mansion, she was always caught up with some deuce. She wouldn’t be lying if she said she felt a type of way around Logan after realizing how grumpy and mean he can get.

She didn’t realize at the time, but when he felt the need to let some steam loose earlier today, he asked, looking for y/n. Not Jean. His mind was all on y/n.

“Such a slut — You’re squeezing me,” he teased as he felt himself grow close. “Keep goin’ — I know you like this,” he said as y/n’s mouth parted. The groan leaving Logan’s mouth as he watched y/n cum on his cock for the second time tonight, sent him over the edge.

The man had no words. All he could do was groan and growl loudly as he pounded into her, watching the light leave her eyes. She was definitely done for tonight.

“Fuck!” He yelled, cum spilling into her throbbing cunt. Logan thrust slowly, watching their cum coat his cock. He knew after tonight, that he’d need her every night. He was going to make that happen whether her attitude matched his or not.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Based on Oliver mentioning Buck and Jee baking together in an upcoming ep.

(I wrote this on my phone so it's not the greatest)

now also on AO3

---

"Is it someone's birthday?" Maddie asked, running through all of their friends and relatives in her mind, trying to figure out if she forgot a birthday.

"No." Buck shook his head and kept pulling ingredients out of the fridge and his kitchen cabinets.

"Ok... What's the occasion then?" she asked when he didn't elaborate.

"It's for Tommy. "

"Oh, is it his birthday?"

"No, not for a few weeks."

"Right. So this is a practice run?"

"What? No. I found the recipe online, but it's easy enough."

"Ok..."

"He likes cake."

"Ok."

Buck sighed and rolled his eyes at his sister before glancing up in the direction of the loft's bedroom.

"He's had a rough couple of days. He had to make an emergency landing because of bad weather yesterday and the ambulance couldn't get to them fast enough and they lost the patient."

"That was him? Josh took that call and he was exhausted from stress by the end of shift."

Buck nodded.

"Tommy too. And he was hurting all over last night. He never takes any pain medication but he took two ibuprofen and a hot shower and crashed into bed."

"Are you sure you're alright to take Jee for the afternoon then? I can ask Mrs Lee or see if she can go play with her friend Emily from down the road. "

"It's fine." Buck told her and turned to Jee. "You're my sous chef aren't you? Are you going to help me today?"

"Yeah!" the girl yelled happily.

"But we have to be quiet ok? Tommy is sleeping upstairs and we don't want to wake him. He needs to sleep because he's sick."

Jee nodded solemnly to show she understood.

"But we're going to surprise him with cake so he'll feel better soon, right?"

"Yeah!" she yelled again, making her mother and uncle laugh.

"At least she's enthusiastic." Maddie tried and bent down to hug and kiss her daughter goodbye. "You be good for uncle Buck, me or daddy will pick you up tonight ok?"

"Ok mommy!" Jee said and climbed up onto the stool next to the kitchen counter.

"Go. We'll be fine." Buck assured her, wrapping an arm around Jee to keep her safe.

After Maddie had left, Buck gave Jee an old shirt of his to wear as apron, made her wash her hands, and the two of them got to work.

He tried to let her do as much as possible while still making sure everything was going to plan and she wouldn't hurt herself.

Before long the cake was in the oven and they started the clean up.

"And when it's done baking, we let it cool off a little and then we can put the icing on and decorate it with these." he showed Jee the assortment of sprinkles he kept in his kitchen for her.

Jee nodded happily and started planning out her sprinkles masterpiece.

Buck looked up towards the bedroom area and listened for a sign of life from his boyfriend.

When he didn't hear anything, he decided to put Jee in front of the TV and go check on him. Tommy was fast asleep, rolled up in the duvet like a human burrito, and didn't seem to have woken up since Buck had made him eat something that morning.

Satisfied everything was ok, he went back downstairs and let Jee tell him all about the cartoon she was watching, until the cake was ready for decoration.

"Which ones do you want to put on first? Pink or gold?"

"Gold!"

"Alright, gold it is. Put it on where you think is best." Buck told her. "But not too much, we need to leave room for the other colours. And we can put your name on it. And mine."

"And uncle Tommy." she decided and Buck froze for a second.

Sure Tommy and Jee had met and he'd explained to her that Tommy was to him what mommy and daddy were to each other, and he was pretty sure she'd understood, but to hear her call him uncle Tommy, that was new.

Jee didn't seem to notice just how much she'd just turned his world upside down and was babbling about what colour sprinkles should go where.

"Pink here for the heart." she decided and Buck wondered when they'd agreed on heart shaped decorations.

"Right, yeah, that... that works." he let Jee draw a heart in pink sprinkles and dutifully wrote his and Tommy's names in it. "And where should I write your name?"

Jee thought for a minute and studied the cake but then shook her head.

"No name."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Jee said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and put some sugar stars across the top half of the cake, above the heart with their names. "That's the sky. With stars."

"Oh wow, that's beautiful miss Jee, did you make that?"

Buck jumped a little when he suddenly heard his boyfriend's voice behind him and felt a hand on his waist.

"Uncle Buck helped" Jee told Tommy.

"Did he now? I'm sure you did all of the important work." Tommy said and gave her a conspiratory wink before turning to Buck and stealing a small kiss. "Hey." he greeted him softly.

"H-hey... Did we wake you?"

Tommy shook his head.

"It's fine. Had to get up eventually."

"Feeling better yet?"

Tommy shrugged and sat down at the kitchen island.

"I'm alright." he just said, which wasn't really an answer but Buck decided to let it go for now.

"Uncle Tommy, it's for you. You need to come look!" Jee insisted, pointing at the cake.

Tommy met Buck's eyes over her head and mouthed "Uncle Tommy?" at him.

Buck shrugged and smiled.

"Uncle Tommy, come see!" Jee said again, a little louder this time, clearly getting fed up with the adults in her life.

"Why don't you two come here and show me, and you can tell me what you made."

Buck helped her down from her stool and put the cake on the island in front of Tommy before helping Jee back on her stool, this time sitting next to Tommy who immediately put a hand on her back so she wouldn't fall off.

"This is the sky with the stars." she started like she was explaining the mysteries of the universe. "And you can fly to the stars."

Tommy laughed a little.

"I don't think I can go quite that high in my helicopter. But maybe I can show you how high I do go. When you're a little older. And your mommy and daddy are ok with it. Maybe uncle Evan will want to come too."

Jee-Yun turned to Buck and gave him an expectant look.

"Yeah, maybe." he settled on, trying to get his heart to calm down and not burst out of his chest hearing his boyfriend make plans with his niece. Even if she was only three and would probably have forgotten about it by the time she was old enough to even think about going up.

She seemed happy with that answer and turned back to Tommy to explain the rest of their creation.

"It's really amazing Jee, it's almost too pretty to eat don't you think?"

"No. You have to eat it. It's chocolate." she said as if that explained everything.

"Oh really? I do love chocolate." Tommy told her. "But can I take a picture of it before we eat it?" he reached into the pocket of his sweats only to realise he'd left his phone upstairs. "Evan, can you take a picture and send it to me?"

"Sure." he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. "You should be in the picture too, we made it for you after all."

Tommy dutifully posed with the cake, tilting the pan towards the camera so the decorations were clearly visible.

"And now one with the master chef herself." he put the cake back down on the table and moved a little closer to Jee so they'd both fit in the picture with the cake and Buck took a few pictures.

After that Jee insisted on having a photo shoot, and by the time Maddie came to pick her back up, his camera roll was filled with pictures of the three of them.

He showed a few to Maddie at Jee's insistence and set one of Tommy making a funny face at Jee as his new contact picture.

They said goodbye to Maddie and Jee-yun and settled on the sofa together, scrolling through the pictures and laughing at some of silly ones.

"I like this one." Buck said, stopping at a selfie of the two of them where Tommy had kissed his cheek at the last second.

"Yeah. Me too." Tommy said softly, not really looking at the picture. "Thanks. For today. For getting me out of my head."

Buck smiled and kissed him.

"Of course."

[tootiecakes234]

I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.

You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.

One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.

“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.

You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It’s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.

He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.

“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”

You look at him with a bright smile on your face.

“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”

“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”

It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.

You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.

You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.

You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.

“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.

“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”

When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.

“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”

He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”

“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.

“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”

Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.

You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.

“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.

“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”

“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”

“I do not.”, you start to object.

“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.

“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.

“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.

“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.”

“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”

He smiles at you, “always”

He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.

You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.

To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list in the comments💕

[nadvs]

home before dark (part four)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

Rafe is being selfish again. When he offered to sleep in your room, it was so you’d feel safe. But that wasn’t entirely why he did it.

He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t for him, too. Something about being around you gives him a sense of quiet when he’s so used to noise.

It’s disorienting feeling a pull to someone he used to avoid, but life stopped making sense to him a long time ago, so why try to find the logic?

Rafe collects the blanket and pillow from the guest bed he slept on last night, figuring he’ll just sleep on your floor.

The way he touched you earlier tonight is playing like a song in his head. When did he get so soft? He’s hardly ever sober for this long. It must be messing with him. It was just a kiss on your cheek, but his heart pounds when he thinks about it.

Then you noticed his gun and looked at him with such disgust that he knows you’d be horrified to learn what his mind sounds like these days. To learn how much anger he has burning through his veins. You’d run in the opposite direction.

You told him you’ve never said anything bad about him. He’d like to keep it that way. So he’ll take all this fake stuff and enjoy it from a distance, far enough removed from you to avoid taking any risks.

You’ve been tucked into bed for a few minutes when Rafe comes through your open door, darkness filling every corner of the room.

After you accepted his offer downstairs, you parted tensely, as if either of you had said one wrong word, the agreement to sleep in your room together would lose all legitimacy.

Rafe’s tall figure quietly makes a bed on the floor a few feet away. He lets out a low grunt when he lies down, turned away from you.

You stare at his back, thinking about how he said whatever you did wrong wasn’t on purpose. You should probably let it go. He’ll never talk about it. But the curiosity is relentless.

After a few minutes of watching Rafe turn from his back to his side over and over, you break the silence.

“Is your brain doing it again?” you ask. Your voice makes the knot in his chest loosen.

“What?” he rasps.

“Is it not turning off?”

He doesn’t respond. You talked about this hours ago at the party, but it stayed with you. He’s not used to this much attention on him. He usually has to fight for it.

“If it isn’t, maybe I could bore you to sleep,” you offer.

“I bet you could.” A second later, Rafe feels a pillow you threw from your bed hit his chest and roll beside him. He smirks in the dark.

You clarify, “I meant I could distract you.”

“For real this time? I don’t need another interrogation.” You love that you can hear a smile in his voice and hate that you can’t see it. Little by little, he’s acting like your friend again.

“Since when is asking one question an interrogation?” Last night, all you did was ask why he was helping you.

“See?”

“Oh, my God,” you sigh with a laugh. “Okay, let me think… I can tell you about the errands I ran today?”

“I’ll be out cold in a minute.” You laugh again and Rafe smiles up at the ceiling. Making you feel safe feels good. Making you laugh like that feels even better.

“Rude,” you say. “Pass me that pillow so I can throw it at you again.”

In the dark, you watch him reach for the pillow on the floor and tuck it under his arm. You breathe out a chuckle.

You pull your duvet up to your chin, unable to believe that the same Rafe who ignored your every attempt to talk, who wouldn’t even hold eye contact with you, is on the floor of your room, joking around with you.

You start to ramble about the shopping you did after he left your house this morning, getting into every menial detail, down to the long line at the gas station.

At first, Rafe can’t imagine falling asleep to this. Your voice humming through the dark is soothing and even though you’re trying to make your story boring, he’s interested.

But eventually, his eyelids get heavier. You’re dozing off, too, but it’s not until you hear his breaths grow deeper that you allow yourself to succumb to the fatigue.

Your senses are blurred and bleeding into each other like paint on a messy canvas, and while you’re confused, you know one thing for sure: you’re terrified.

Ty’s behind the wheel and the car is barreling down the busy freeway at a vicious speed. It’s storming and he’s laughing and you can’t scream. You can’t even speak.

Anne’s car is coming right for yours and Ty won’t slow down no matter how hard you try to gain control of the wheel and you brace for impact, but suddenly you’re in your fifth grade class and you’re crying and everyone is staring at you.

You wake up to big hands holding your shoulders, gently shaking you. A low and soft voice whispers your name, coaxing you to wake up.

Your eyes open to see Rafe standing over you in the dark and you realize your cheeks are wet with tears. Consciousness slowly wraps around you. It was a nightmare.

Your adrenaline pushes you to sit up, your chest heaving. His hands drop off of you, but he’s still standing and leaning over your bed, inches away.

“Bad dream?” he asks over the sound of your shallow breaths. Your whimpers are what woke him up. Hearing you crying in your sleep like that was painful.

You rub both eyes with your knuckles and try to catch up with reality.

“I was in the car with Ty and he was driving too fast and then I saw your mom-” You immediately shut up. In your fog, you forgot what you’re allowed to say and what you’re not, and by the way Rafe stands straight, you know you messed up.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. His fingers are still and don’t curl around yours. The fact that you pull him towards you shows just how disoriented you are. “Can you sleep up here?”

“What?”

“Can you sleep up here?” you mumble dazedly. Rafe’s already sinking onto the mattress before you finish asking your repeated question.

You turn to face him when he lies down. You curl into a ball, your hand still gripping his as you try to breathe slower. You remember your other pillow is on the floor and you lift your head to shift your pillow to the middle so that he can rest his head on it, too.

Rafe stares ahead, listening to your fast breathing and his loud heartbeat. He’s struck that even when you’re in a half-asleep trance, your instinct is to make sure he’s comfortable.

And to ask him to lie next to you. To be close when there’s nobody around to prove your pretend relationship to. You actually find comfort in him. He thought he was starting to find it in you, too, but then you mentioned her.

You shudder when Rafe’s hand twists out from yours, losing the anchor reminding you that none of it was real. But then you realize he did it to put his palm on your cheek.

“You’re good,” he reassures you. He frowns when he feels a tear on your skin. “It’s alright.”

You nod under his touch, your eyes shut, swallowing hard and cupping his wrist. He’s still trembling from withdrawal.

The dream took you to when you were ten and Rafe’s desk was empty and your teacher told the class he lost his mom a couple of nights ago, so you’d spend the period making sympathy cards for him.

It’s important we show him he’s not alone, she said and you were so upset that you didn’t know how to do that when you were supposed to be best friends. You stared at a blank piece of paper for long enough that your teacher told you that you could work on something else.

You did eventually make him a card. And you visited. And you called. And you tried talking to him over and over.

But nothing you did or said was ever good enough. He shut everybody out and you were no exception. Maybe someone else would be mad at him for it, but you couldn’t ever find it in your heart to be. You still can’t.

“I’m sorry,” you say into the dark, wishing he knew just how heavy the pain you carry for him is. You feel frantic now, the emotions washing over you with no mercy, as if you just learned she died all over again. “I’m sorry for everything. You were just a kid-”

“Don’t,” Rafe interrupts. “Just sleep.”

You sniffle and he swears he can feel his heart crack but he can’t indulge you. He can’t open the wound he pretends isn’t still bleeding. He can’t talk about how his life crumbled into ruins and he’s still sitting in the rubble.

He lost his mother, his security, and eventually his mind, and there’s no point in talking about what he can never get back.

Rafe’s hand slips off of your cheek but your fingers remain wrapped around his wrist. He lets you keep holding onto him as you fall back asleep.

The sunlight is coming through slitted blinds when Rafe’s eyes open. He couldn’t see your room last night, but now that he can study the space that is so you, his mind starts racing.

You’re asleep next to him, head tilted towards him on the pillow you’re sharing. He gazes over your pretty features, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips.

How could someone so sweet hurt him so fucking bad? Last night was brutal. You mentioning his mom without any warning was like a sharp jolt of electricity. He was an idiot to think he could find comfort in you.

You’ll always remind him of it. Of the helplessness and the horror and the agony. He can’t handle it. Even if you never talk about it again, your presence alone is a reminder.

You shuffle awake and reach out for him, but his side of the bed is cold. He’s not on the floor, either. You look out the window to see his motorcycle is still where he parked it last night.

When you come down to the front room, Rafe is in the same chair he sat in the night of the storm, grudgingly playing with his ring, staring ahead with a hard frown.

He sees you and immediately stands up, eyes darting away from you like the last few days didn’t happen at all. All his coldness is back.

“Finally,” he grunts. You watch him stalk past you with screwed up lips. “Lock the door behind me.”

You realize he was waiting for you to wake up. And now he’s acting like you’re contagious with something he’d rather die than catch, rushing out of your home, triggering the alarm when he opens the front door.

You follow him to punch the code into the security system and then quickly open the door he closed, watching him stride down the steps towards his bike.

You’re in a haze. Last night, he held you so gently and you fell asleep inches away from each other. This morning, he can’t get away fast enough.

It’s what you said. You mentioned his mom. You knew it was out of bounds, but you were so frightened and disoriented and spoke without thinking.

“Wait,” you say to his back. But Rafe continues on his way, making you feel just like you did in your nightmare. You’re speaking but it’s like nothing is coming out.

“Please don’t go back to ignoring me,” you call louder, a shake in your voice. This makes him pause. You swing the door shut behind you and close the distance, stepping out into the brisk morning air.

You face him and he looks absolutely wrecked. Guilt digs its sharp claws into your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I was out of it.”

Rafe stares down at the paved ground, his jaw tightening.

“You’re always gonna remind me,” he mutters.

His sentence is simple, but it carries the weight of your broken friendship. It hits you that you could never mention the past again, not a single memory or anything about his loss, and it still wouldn’t be enough. You’re a constant reminder.

“That’s why you never wanted anything to do with me?” you say. Rafe looks at you again. Your eyes have lost all their light.

It’s just a part of the reason the bridge between you can’t ever be rebuilt, but talking about it with you is torture, so he’ll let you believe that that’s all there is to it.

“You can go,” you say quietly, stepping back. If being with you just brings back painful memories to him, you won’t subject him to it any longer.

Every muscle in Rafe’s body aches as he drives home. His head is hammering with pain and his bones weigh a million pounds and he’d kill for a hit of anything right now. He needs the escape.

Just when he thought he found a place to slow down, you reminded him of why he’s always running. As soon as he’s sure your ex is done bothering you, he’s out.

As you watch Rafe drive away, the gate opens when the sensor detects a vehicle leaving the property, and you notice the mailbox is open.

You pick up the mail to see an envelope with your name handwritten on it. Panicked, you rush back inside, locking the door. You know it’s Ty, finding yet another way to contact you.

You would’ve noticed the mailbox was open when you got home with Rafe last night. He did this overnight or early this morning.

When you finally find the courage to read his letter, dread forces its way into your body so roughly that you’re not sure you’ll ever feel happy again.

You feel some relief when Sarah texts in the group chat a couple of hours later asking if anyone wants to go shopping. It’s the distraction you need.

It’s late afternoon when you meet her and your mutual friend Lia at the mall, trying to get your mind off of Rafe’s coldness and Ty’s persistence and your own pain.

Afterwards, Sarah invites you both to her house and soon, the three of you are sitting in her room, chatting and listening to music.

The door is open and when a figure passes by, you look up to see Rafe. He glances at you for a second, then goes right back to ignoring you, continuing on his way without another second of hesitation.

When he got home, he took a couple of shots before he fell asleep in his bed. He woke up still partly buzzed and he can’t handle seeing or talking to you right now.

Sarah shakes her head in the corner of your eye. She noticed him, too.

“Jesus, Rafe, that’s how you treat your girlfriend?” she half-shouts. Two pairs of eyes land on you as your friends await your reaction.

“We’re in a fight,” you say, anxious that the topic has come up and that you’ll have to lie your way through it.

“Already? Didn’t you just start dating?” Lia says.

“Yeah, it’s sad,” you say with a downcast laugh.

Rafe chews on his thumbnail as he kneels against the hallway wall. He should’ve kept walking, but he’s secretly hanging onto your every word.

“I still can’t believe you guys are together,” she says. “I didn’t even know you liked him.”

“I did,” Sarah laughs. You look at her with wide eyes. “Come on, you never let anyone say anything bad about him.”

“Why do you?” Your eyes jump to Lia.

“Why do I what?” you say, trying to play it off.

“Like him,” Lia replies.

You figure while all of this is a sham, you can at least answer this question with full honesty.

“He takes care of me,” you say. You think about how you laughed together in your bedroom last night. “And I have fun with him.”

Regret gnaws at Rafe. Even though you’re upset with him, you still speak of him kindly. His growing feelings for you would be so much easier to get rid of if you were like everybody else, writing him off, calling him psycho.

“Yeah, you look like you’re having a lot of fun,” Lia replies with a playful nudge, trying to bring some humor to the room. “Seriously, are you okay? You seem off.”

You believe it. Your mind doesn’t feel any clearer since last night’s nightmare.

“I’m really freaked out because of Ty,” you admit.

“It’s crazy that he’s still bothering you,” Sarah says.

“It is. He won’t stop. I saw footprints outside my front door last night and I think they were his. That would mean he found a way around the gate,” you tell them. “And then there was a letter from him in my mailbox this morning. It was so creepy.”

Rafe’s body stiffens.

“God, that’s like stalker level,” Lia says. “What’d it say?”

The sound of Rafe saying your name interrupts you. You look up to see him standing in the doorway, staring at you. He cocks his head, silently beckoning you to come out.

When you face him in the corner of the hallway, far from Sarah’s room, you cross your arms and let him start the conversation.

“That asshole left you a letter?” Rafe mutters quietly. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Embarrassment turns in your stomach. He was eavesdropping.

“You wouldn’t have answered,” you reply.

“Yeah, I would’ve,” he says sternly. “What’d he write?”

You bite your bottom lip in anguish, choking back your tears.

You’re clearly shaken up. Rafe’s protective instinct overpowers him. He grasps your arm, squeezing gently, giving into his every impulse around you like he always does. You breathe slowly, eyes darting away.

“What did he write?” he repeats. His hand is so warm, a hard contrast from how cold you know he can be.

Your mind turns over the scribbled words on the crumpled page Ty left for you. It was mainly nonsensical, but some phrases stuck with you like a dagger to your heart.

“That he and I are meant to be,” you recall. “And that I know deep down we’re supposed to be together and he’ll keep waiting until I realize it.”

“What a fucking creep,” Rafe snarls, dropping his hand off of you. He’s not going to miss the next opportunity to beat the hell out of the guy and get him away for you for good.

The intensity of your nightmare and the shock from your argument still hurts, and as you look at Rafe, his hair falling over his forehead, his skin pale and his lips pursed in anger, you don’t have it in you to ask him to continue doing this for you.

“You don’t have to do this anymore,” you say. “I’ll stay with friends until my parents get back.”

“What?” Rafe’s pulse quickens. This thing with you isn’t real, he knows that, but it feels like you’re breaking up with him.

“We’re just hurting each other,” you tell him.

“No,” he says. “No. I’m keeping you safe. I’m taking care of you.”

He can’t possibly be hurting you. He can’t be fucking up yet another thing in his life.

“Rafe,” you exhale, defeated. “This whole thing was a bad idea. I’m just a reminder to you. And you’re…”

“I’m what?” he asks.

“You’re always going to keep me at a distance,” you say.

You hang on to what feels like your last shred of hope. You wait, hoping he’ll deny it, hoping he’ll finally meet you in the middle. You thought you had infinite faith that he’d let you in again. But after this morning, you’ve reached the end.

“Listen, I’m…” Rafe begins. Being with you hurts sometimes, but he can’t allow you to be in any danger. “I’m not letting you deal with him on your own.”

“I won’t be on my own,” you respond. He scoffs. Your friends couldn’t scare him off like he can.

“I can’t risk anything happening to you,” he says quickly. “Just… we’ll keep doing this until he finally gets it, alright?”

You’ve been barely grasping onto hope and his words are enough to keep you from letting go. That’s when you accept the fact that you’re doomed. You’ll never give up on him.

“Alright,” you say. Until he finally gets it. Your time with Rafe is limited. But nonetheless, it’s time.

He breathes out in relief. The possibility of disappointing you is more painful than he imagined. He can’t mess this up.

You leave him standing in the hallway, knowing you’ll have to walk away for good when all of this is over. You wonder if you’ll be able to do it without it breaking your heart.

Later in the evening, Sarah invites a few more friends over, who then invite their friends, and soon, the backyard of the Cameron estate is buzzing with conversation and laughter, the beach a glittering backdrop to the spontaneous party. You’re not surprised the space filled up so fast. This is all Kooks do these long summer days.

You find relief in the fact that Ty probably wouldn’t come. Not to Rafe’s house. You stand by your group of friends under the setting sun, the crowd growing around you.

When you spot one of Ty’s friends, your stomach sinks. If he’s here, maybe your ex is, too. It’s best to be cautious.

You search the crowd for Rafe. You noticed him a little while back, drinking with his friends, but he’s nowhere to be found now.

When you break from your group to ask Rafe’s friends where he went, they only offer you shrugs.

You slip into the quiet house, your heart starting to pound at the possibility of Ty finding you and Rafe not being around.

You find Rafe’s name in your phone and dash up the grand stairs, your phone to your ear as you decide to hide in Sarah’s room until you’re sure you’re safe.

It rings once before he answers.

“You okay?” he says.

“Where are you?”

“I’m - uh…” Rafe starts to clean away the lines of coke he made on his nightstand. He never hid it before, but with you around, he’s ashamed of his drug use now. That he needs it. That he couldn’t stay away. He finished his first line before you called. “I’m in my room.”

“I’ll be right there,” you say.

He panics, spilling the powder in his rush, wondering how many seconds he has left before you catch him mid-relapse.

The door opens and he catches your eyes darting to the hardwood floor, covered with coke he didn’t clean up on time.

Rafe’s at the edge of his bed, glaring up at you.

The last time you were in this room, he was just an innocent kid, and now he’s hunched over and drugged up and living through grief you’re not sure he’ll ever be able to bear.

He tries to shove past the shame, focusing on what he’s supposed to be focusing on.

“Is he here?” Rafe asks, standing up, filled with a rush of energy from the drugs.

He approaches you, his pupils blown, rubbing his nose. You stare up at him with concern. He’s so obviously trying to hide the fact that he just used.

“I don’t know,” you say. “I saw his friend and I thought I should find you in case he came.”

“Shit,” he mumbles, erratically shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have left you alone out there.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not,” Rafe says, his agitation growing. He was fighting the urge to use as long as he could. Then he told himself he’d just do a couple of lines and go back downstairs, but something could have happened to you in those few minutes. “It’s not okay. I fucked up. All I do is fuck up.”

You watch him pace back towards his bed, raking his hand through his hair. He’s nearly hysterical.

“That’s not true,” you say. Is that really what he thinks of himself?

“You don’t…” Rafe lets out a defeated huff as he sits on his bed, his head in his hands. “You don’t know me.”

It’s a painful reminder. But he’s right.

He stands up again, his breaths heavy. He needs to get this anxiety and anger and fear out the best way he knows how. With a fight.

“He better not be here,” he mutters.

Rafe stalks past you quickly and you follow him as he rushes down the stairs.

He darts towards the crowd scattered across the backyard. You trail him as he pushes through groups, his fists clenched tight.

He realizes your ex isn’t here and turns to look down at you in the middle of the crowd.

“Who’s his friend?” he asks, panting. You can tell that at this point, he just wants to hit someone. He doesn’t care who. And you’re not going to lead him to a guy who hasn’t done anything wrong.

“He has nothing to do with this,” you say over the chattering surrounding you. “Ty isn’t here, okay? That’s what matters. I’m safe. You didn’t fuck anything up.”

The worry in your eyes is almost too much for Rafe. He doesn’t get you. Whatever you see in him doesn’t exist. He feels like he needs to prove to you how wrong you are.

“I couldn’t last two nights,” he says. “I wanted to get clean and I couldn’t last two nights.”

Your face falls. The ground you’re both on feels shaky. You didn’t know he thought so low of himself.

“It’s not all or nothing,” you say. “You don’t have to get it on the first try. It’s…” You almost say an addiction, but you don’t want to insult him.

“It’s a habit and it takes time to break,” you conclude.

Rafe exhales shakily, his body jittery. He looks so upset that you couldn’t leave his side if you tried.

“I need to get away from all this noise,” you say. “Can we go down to the water?”

Rafe curtly nods. He needs to get away, too. The commotion around him is only fuelling his rage.

You stride towards the boardwalk leading to the private beach. The party wasn’t too loud for you at all, but he looked overwhelmed, so you fibbed just to get him out of the chaos.

You quietly walk towards the beach under the dark orange sky. Even with the baggage between you, it feels good to be by his side like this. You just wish it didn’t hurt him to be around you.

You ran up and down this boardwalk so many times as kids. One morning, you fell and scraped your knee and even though you were fine, Rafe put his arm around you to lean on him the whole way back up to the house so his mother could bandage you up.

Now it’s your turn to help him. However you can.

You make it to the sand. The crowd’s sound is just a dull roar behind you now that you’ve reached the beach.

You look over at Rafe to see his chest still rapidly rising and falling as he gazes out at the sea. You wonder why he was hiding it. He never shied away from snorting lines in the middle of a party before.

But by the look on his face, you can tell. He’s ashamed. His words ring in your head. All I do is fuck up.

“You can do it,” you tell him. “You can quit.”

Rafe looks at you and expels a dismissive scoff.

“Doubt it,” he murmurs.

You settle onto the sand, legs stretched out towards the water.

“Why?” you ask.

He stares out at the sea again, the shallow waves curling and tumbling into the shore beneath the setting sun. When he thinks about the hours you two spent out here, it’s like the memories aren’t even his.

He leans to sit next to you, arms resting on his propped up knees. You want so badly to talk about all the silly games and conversations you had out here years ago, but you know better now.

“Why do you care so much?” Rafe finally says, his voice low. You gaze at his profile and notice his lower lip just barely tremble. There’s a fragility in his face that you’ve never seen before.

You take a breath. How can you possibly answer without bringing up the past?

“I just do. Whether you want me to or not.” You say it with a soft chuckle in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

His shoulders slump. Before all this started, he was sure nobody cared about him. Not really. Not when it mattered. But you do.

You bite your lip, desperate to make him feel better.

“I’m not scared of him when you’re around,” you say. “I didn’t think that was possible. And maybe you weren’t downstairs when I was looking for you, but you answered my call right away. So, no, you don’t fuck everything up. You’re helping me when you don’t even have to.”

“I do have to,” he replies.

“Why do you think that?” You know he has a sense of loyalty towards you, a sense of owing you something, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll give you a warmer answer this time.

Rafe’s heart is racing. He’s failed so much. He failed making his own dad like him. He failed staying away from the coke. He’s not going to fail you.

“You’re the only person left who gives a shit,” he admits, unable to say about me out loud.

His words send a shiver through you. Just like in your bed last night, even though there’s nobody around to prove anything to, you touch him. You cup your hand around the inside of his elbow and squeeze.

Feeling your skin on his is a rush for him every time. The only contact he’s had with other people for years has been violent. But you’re so gentle with him and it unravels his anger.

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat. Or he tries to. But he can’t. The coke is making him manic. He took too much. He’s overwhelmed by your affection and he can’t stop what his body’s doing in response.

When you watch a tear run over the curve of his cheek, your shock and concern and sadness give you an ache so painful, your breath hitches.

Before he can try to leave, you lean on him, your temple pressed against his shoulder.

He’s humiliated. He’s actually fucking crying in front of you. So much for being the strong person keeping you safe. Behind everything he pretends to be, he’s weak.

It’s odd to cry in front of someone and not have them tell him to man up. You simply nuzzle against him and tighten your grip.

“Rafe!” someone calls in the distance. “Dude, what the hell? Why’d you leave?”

You both look back to see a group of his buddies stumbling down the boardwalk, laughing drunkenly.

“Shit,” Rafe grunts, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands. His friends are probably looking for some blow. They can’t see him like this. He’s pissed you’re seeing him like this.

You can see how his guard is suddenly up again, how frantic he is to cover his tears.

“Should I…” you stammer, “try to get them to go?”

Rafe shrugs, at a loss, pulling the collar of his shirt up to wipe the evidence off of his face.

You watch his friends get closer and your mind rushes through how you can possibly get them to leave him alone.

It’s ridiculous, but it may be the only thing that’ll work.

“Maybe…” You take a breath to gain a bit of courage. “Maybe we just do what we did at the party last night?”

Glossy blue eyes land on you. He thinks back to the way you held each other, the way he kissed your cheek.

“I don’t know,” you say, words rushed. “Maybe if they think you’re in the middle of a hook-up, they won’t interrupt? It’s stupid, but I don’t know what else we could do.”

The invitation ignites a fire in him. Suddenly, Rafe’s hand cradles your jaw and he pulls you in. You were expecting a hug or something tame. But he kisses you.

Everything that felt heavy in you lightens. His lips are even softer than you imagined. Your mouths melt together and it feels so natural that you almost forget this is all a tactic.

Everything in and around Rafe blurs when he kisses you. He doesn’t feel weak or fucked up or like a failure. He just feels you. Kissing him back. Tasting him like he’s tasting you.

You hear Rafe’s friends’ voices grow louder and you pull back, glaring at them.

“He’s busy!” you shout. Some of them laugh, others holler, but the guy at the front of the group throws his arms up and turns around.

“Say no more,” he slurs, laughing. “But hurry it up, will you?”

You watch them stumble back towards the house and you realize you can hear your heartbeat. You wish it was from the rush of getting away with a lie. But it’s not. It’s from the lie feeling this good.

“It worked,” you say. When you focus on Rafe again, his eyes are on your lips. Then, he quickly looks away, his hand lifting off of you.

The air between you is thick and awkward and you nervously clasp your hands together.

He looks out at the water again. So do you. You’re not touching anymore. And even though he’s right next to you, he suddenly feels miles away.

(part five)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[fastandcarlos]

Daddy The Hero : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: unable to put your daughter to rest, you rely on logan to step in with the magic of dad to save the day

“Logan, are you free?” You called downstairs where you knew Logan was sat watching the next part of the series that you had been watching. Your frame leant against the wall, too tired to even stand upright anymore as cries continued to echo through the upstairs. 

“Babe?” Logan shouted back, pausing what he was watching before standing up from the sofa. 

You stayed where you were, hearing Logan’s footsteps walking through the house, relieved when you saw the shadow of his figure first before his body appearing at the bottom of the stairs, concerned eyes looking up at you. 

“Everything alright?” He questioned, already knowing the answer before he even asked his question. 

Your head shook as a dejected sigh escaped from you. “I feel like I’ve done everything I can to get her to go to sleep, but nothing’s working.” 

The frustration in your voice was clear for Logan as a sympathetic smile appeared on his face. You always offered to do the night routine whilst Logan relaxed after his busy days but tonight you were just about running on empty. 

“Can you come and see if you can do anything? Please. I’m at a loss,” you asked, relieved as Logan immediately made his way up the stairs, forgetting all about what he was watching before. 

If there was one thing you adored about your relationship with Logan it was how well you worked as a team, particularly after having your daughter too. When one of you was struggling, the other stepped in and made sure that you both felt well supported. 

“What’s going on?” Logan smiled as he followed you into your daughter’s bedroom, noticing her sat up with a wide grin on her face. 

“I’m going to go and tidy up the bathroom, give me a shout if you need me,” you told Logan, pressing a kiss against his cheek. 

He hummed in response, taking a seat beside your daughter’s bedroom. “I’m sure we’ll be alright; you take it easy for a while sweetheart.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at how calm Logan’s voice was, if he needed to stay up all night with your daughter then he would, he’d do anything to make life easier for you. 

“What’s going on baby?” Logan asked, brushing his hand through her hair as her small frame turned so that she was facing him. “You know you should be asleep right now.” 

“I want to stay up with you and mummy,” your daughter argued. 

“You can’t,” Logan gently giggled, “mummy and daddy are grown-ups which means we get to stay up just a little bit later than you.” 

“It’s not fair,” she huffed, her sassy attitude beginning to show itself. 

Logan knew your daughter’s attitude was directly inherited from you. It was like dealing with a mini version of you sometimes with how well your daughter could outsmart him with her comebacks and jibes. 

“What about if I stay here with you until you fall asleep?” Logan offered, keen to get her to sleep as quickly as he could. “We can have some daddy and daughter time?” 

“Yeah, let’s do that,” she smiled. 

Logan nudged your daughter along her bed, making room for him to just about squeeze his tall frame into the bed with her. She immediately snuggled into Logan’s side, allowing his arm to wrap around her and pull her as close to him as he could. 

“How’s that?” Logan asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The giggle that came from her was all that Logan needed to know that your daughter was much happier now. Logan fell quiet, keeping his eyes on your daughter as he watched her eyes flutter shut, hopeful that was how they’d stay for the rest of the night. 

After finishing up in the bathroom, you crept into your daughter’s room to check in on how they were getting on. Logan’s eyes flickered across as soon as he saw you, giving you a thumbs up in the darkness of the room to let you know that she had finally fallen asleep. 

Slowly, Logan sat himself up, sliding your daughter down off of his arm. He thought he’d got away with it, but soon enough her eyes darted open and looked over in panic when she realised where Logan was going. 

“It’s alright, go back to sleep darling,” Logan whispered, feeling her grip tighten. 

“Don’t leave me daddy,” she groaned, kicking her legs against the mattress of her bed. 

“Come on sweetheart, it’s time for me and mummy to get some rest,” Logan tried his best to explain to her, but she was having none of it, digging her heels, and her hands in stubbornly. 

Logan’s eyes looked between you and your daughter, reminding himself of just how exhausted you were. You kept staring across at them as your daughter remained strong, refusing to let Logan go as he tried his best to carry on sliding away from her. 

“I’ll stay here for the night,” Logan told the two of you. 

“A-are you sure?” You asked him, drawn to the difference in size between Logan and the bed that your daughter slept in. “You’re going to do yourself an injury Lo.” 

His head shook, “I don’t mind, if it means you get a peaceful sleep for the night, then it’s worth it.” 

After a little bit more persuading, Logan encouraged you to head to bed, leaving him in with your daughter. She was beyond excited to have Logan stay, falling asleep almost in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the man who spent the night beside her. 

Before you even saw Logan the following morning you could hear his groans coming down the stairs. Every muscle seemed to ache from where he had squeezed himself in, unable to move out of fear of rolling either out of the bed or onto your daughter. 

Your teasing smile was wide as Logan appeared in the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa and stretching his body out for the first time in hours, full of relief. 

Your eyes kept watching him, unable to hold back your laugther. Logan shot a glare across at you as he sat himself up with a shake of his head. 

“Did you have a good sleep?” You jokingly quizzed. 

“Never again,” he huffed, running his hands over his face. “Next time I offer to sleep in her bed, please slap me across the face.” 

“Do you mean that?” You laughed, “because you know that I will take great delight in doing that.” 

“That was awful,” he complained, nodding in response. 

Despite how much it hurt, it was a relief for Logan to look across at you and see you full of energy again. The night’s sleep you had was exactly what you needed to feel like yourself once more, and although he’d suffered, Logan was pleased to see it. 

“I do appreciate you stepping in last night, I know how busy you are too,” you told him, your laughter turning into a wide smile. 

“We’re a team,” he reminded you, “I’m always going to step up and help, I’m her dad after all. Plus, I think I happen to be a pretty cool husband at the same time too.” 

Your eyes rolled as Logan smugly smiled back across at you. “Oh, trust me, you’re the best husband ever,” you assured. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Angst with a happy ending, older Eddie, reader acting like a brat. Arguments then fluff. 18+, mdni.

🎀✨💞

Sex. Just sex. That's all you were to Eddie. Knowing it and accepting it was hard for you. So much so that you were in one hell of a mood.

And acting like a major brat. At first Eddie took it in his stride, maybe you were getting sick or you didn't sleep that good.

He usually had endless patience when it came to you. You had him wrapped around your little finger yet you didn't even know it. Not that Eddie would admit it but it was true.

Despite that your attitude was beginning to grate on him and he had enough.

Eddie loses patience. "What the fuck is wrong with you today? why are you so bitchy?" He's put up with your sullenness and attitude all day and he's tired of it.

"I'm fine" you snap, there's no way you could tell him what was really wrong. That you were completely in love with him and he only saw you as a fuck buddy.

Then that would be the end of your relationship and you didn't want it to end. You had grown attached to Eddie so quickly, you'd be heartbroken if your relationship ended.

"Obviously you're not fine if you've been in a mood all day. What the hell is wrong? Clearly I spoil you too fucking much because you're acting like a spoiled brat" tears pool in your eyes and you will them away.

"So now I'm just an annoyance to you?" You question him and he shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air.

"I give up. You're twisting my words" you look away feeling your heart sink at his words. Maybe you should just tell him? Rip off the band aid or so to speak.

Unfortunately your mouth runs away with you before you can think about it. "You're the one who called me a brat" he rolls his eyes, folds his arms across his chest and gives you a dark look.

"Because you are! From the moment you woke up to now, all I've had is you bitching in my ear even when I asked you what is wrong, you don't answer"

Anxiety claws in your veins and you don't know what to say to salvage the situation. You shouldn't have been so moody, you know that but the argument had pretty much spiralled out of control.

"Well why don't I just leave then if I'm annoying you so much?" you snap and gather your clothes. He shrugs and his body language turns cold, colder then you've ever seen.

"Maybe you should" the tears flow freely at his tone and you kick yourself as you rush downstairs. You may have just ruined everything.

You were so scared that admitting your feelings to Eddie would mean you would lose him, and it was killing you keeping your feelings a secret.

Turns out that maybe you had just lost him anyway.

...

After the argument with Eddie you feel even worse and plan to cuddle in bed and shut off from the world just for a little bit.

Eddie had other plans. It isn't long before he's at your house, quietly letting himself in and making his way upstairs. He hated seeing you cry, it was like a punch to the gut and he was anxious to make it up to you.

He was also very keen to get to the root of the problem and why you were acting out so much today. Something was bothering you for you to act this way. He wanted to find out what it was.

Your quiet sobs reach him and it tears at his heart as he enters your room and finds you curled up on the bed. Hiding away.

Tenderly Eddie stokes your hair and you turn to face him. He wipes your tears away and sighs.

"You didn't have to come over so late. I know you're working early tomorrow" you murmur and he softens as he lays beside you.

"I'm my own boss. I make my own start time sweetheart. I had to see you. Couldn't sleep without my princess beside me could I?" He settles beside you and you smile.

"I'm sorry, I was bitchy. I didn't mean to be" he kisses your hair and nods accepting the apology.

"I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have yelled at you or called you a brat. Please tell me what's wrong? You're obviously anxious about something" you bite your lip and he waits for you to say.

"I'm scared" you whisper to him and he feels heartbroken at this. He never wants you to feel scared or that you can't talk to him, you can talk to him about anything.

"Princess, you can tell me anything. You never have to be scared of telling me anything" he holds you close and feels you relax. You still hide your face in his shoulder as you work up the courage to talk to him.

"I'm in love with you, I know you don't feel the same way but I just wanted you to know. It's killing me not saying anything"

Eddie is stunned. This is what got you so worked up, that you were in love with him? Did you think he'd reject you?

Jesus h Christ, did you not realise that he was so in love with you too? He'd never felt this way about anyone. It scared him how deep his feelings were but he has been planning to tell you for ages.

He just wanted it to be the right time and be romantic. Turns out he had waited too long and you were thinking he didn't love you.

That wouldn't do at all.

"I'm so in love with you. How can you not see that?" Eddie caresses your cheek and you feel all of your fears slip away. You snuggle into him and peer up with pure joy on your face.

"I love you too Eddie"

All of this angst and shit could have been avoided if you had both just spoken up sooner. Both of you make a vow that night to always communicate your feelings.

But first a lot of making up was required ;)

[pricegouge]

horny knee-tattoo offerring...

ive had insomnia all this week and its super frustrating, bc you're tired but cant turn your brain off enough to sleep and its hard to physically tire yourself out at 4am yknow? maybe reader's 141 boy (any or all of em, its ur world babe) wakes up in the middle of the night and sees how frustrated and miserable their partner is, tossing and turning, doomscrolling, counting down the dwindling hours till their work alarm is due to go off, and they take it upon themself to fuck their partner to sleep. not just one round, no, orgasm after orgasm, squirting over the sheets, crying from tired frustration and then relief, till they fall asleep stuffed full around a cock. their boy(s) carefully get them all cleaned up and tucked back in the sheets dead asleep <3

i hope ur tattoo goes well! whatcha gettin 👀

Hii 💛

I went with Price cause I'm a simp

(also I'm getting Mothra)

cw: reader has a pussy which is referred to with fem terms, but no gendered pronouns for them. daddy kink (sorry). squirting. implied (non negotiated) somno. John's POV.

He's not expecting the glow of artificial light permeating the room when he opens his eyes in the dead of night, though by now he supposes he really should be.

You've been struggling to sleep for weeks now, the unhelpful sleep aids and your own frustration creating a bad feedback loop which left you tossing and turning into the early hours of morning when you would usually slink off downstairs to try your luck on the couch, leaving your side of the bed cold and empty.

It simply wouldn't do.

"Trouble sleeping, sweetheart?" His voice is rough with his own grogginess, sawing through the still of the night with enough force make you jolt, nerves shot with exhaustion.

"Yeah. Am I keeping you awake?"

He grabs after you when you begin to shift out of bed without even waiting for an answer. "Not at all. You stay right here." He pulls you closer to him, illustrating exactly what he means by tucking you in against his chest, his hand heavy where it cradles your skull. You sigh as if in contentment, but your body remains stiff and tense against him. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No," you grumble, just as much upset about it as he is. "Thanks though."

"Thoughts racing or just not tired?"

You shrug, shoulder jostling the arm he has slung over you. Your voice is watery when you respond. "Little bit of both I guess."

"Hey," John starts, immediately alert, pulling you impossibly closer. "What's wrong?"

You bury a sniffle in his chest, tension shifting rapidly to obvious frustration. "Nothing," you whine, obviously lying. "I'm just so fucking tired but it's like I'm not tired at all, you know? Like my brain's just decided we don't need it anymore even though body feels like a Furby with the battery running out, right? But there's nothing I can do; no matter what I try I'm still stuck laying here - wide the fuck awake and -!"

"Okay," John starts, easing you back onto the bed before you start rambling about more obscure nineties toys he's barely ever heard of. "Okay, let's just -." He pauses, at a loss, but then he looks down at you in the dim light of your forgotten phone and he sees your puffy face, the tear streaks, your hair a mess, tangled in sheets from all your tossing and your turning and he knows immediately how best to help you.

"I know something we can try, sweetheart."

"You do?" As if in contrast to your confused tone, your hands grip his forearms instinctively, eyes wide and hopeful as he lowered himself down over you, weight near crushing. He doesn't bother responding beyond a pleased rumble when your hands slip up over his biceps, kissing your fingertips when they curl over his shoulders. You're still so tense beneath him, but he's sleep-soft and heavy enough to smother you, thinks he can overwhelm you easy enough. Just has to ply you the right way.

The kisses your eyelids first, lips tracing the etch marks of your tears. He kisses the corner of your mouth, pulling back teasingly when he feels your lips part under his.

"John," you whine, and he can't help the huff of laughter which collects between you, humid and dense on your skin.

"Need me?"

"Yes."

He loves how eager you can get, the way you pull him down until he lays flat on top of you, the way you accept his tongue with a pleased groan. Your legs fall open beneath him and he grinds against you lazily, a tight contrast to your neediness, though he indulges you with the deep kisses he knows you crave.

When his lips trail down your neck, you thread your finger through his short cropped hair, your nails scratching against the tightness of his scalp and it eases that last little bit of lingering tension in him, makes him sink that last little bit into you. He's heavy, languid, forcing you to still yourself and meet his pace, rewarding you with a particularly dirty grind when you do.

He trails kisses down your chest, stopping to teethe lightly on your nipple as he slips down the bed. You jolt, undoing all his work, but he just chuckles, content to unwind you again and again if needed.

You're slick enough for a finger when he gets your bottoms off, but he makes you wait for that too, licks over your lips with fat, teasing stripes that have your legs falling open around him, blooming like a flower in invitation. He still doesn't give in, ignoring your clit in favor of pressing his teeth oh so gently into your fat mound and rubbing his beard into your soft inner thigh. It'll leave a rash, he knows, get you all huffy about it in the morning.

He'll kiss it better then, too.

"John, please," you whine and he smirks, pressed close enough to the crease of your thigh you can probably feel his incisors against your hip flexor.

"What was that?"

A pause. He can practically hear your breath catch in your throat.

"Need daddy to help?"

"Please," you sob, frustration bubbling up again.

"Shh," he breathes, lets his breath fan across your exposed clit when he thumbs the hood back. He should make you ask properly, but he hasn't forgotten this is about you. "I got you, sweetheart."

For all his patience before, John dives into your cunt like his last bloody meal. He's sloppy, spit and slick collecting on his chin as he licks into you, breath hot and humid, leaving him in heavy pants that have him groaning with your taste. You fingers find his hair again, pull him and he obliges happily, showing your cute little clit the love it needs as he finally sinks two fingers into you, moaning at the way you clench around him. He's efficient, a man with a purpose, and he makes you cum within minutes, your breathy whines sounding suspiciously like a low chant of 'daddy.'

You moan when he kisses you after, no finesse. Just a hot slide of slick tongues where he shares your taste with you, keeping you distracted as he lines himself up.

It's never an easy task. John's a big man, his cock nothing but proportional. It never matters how many times he has you, or how pliant he get you beneath him, the first press into you is always slow, measured in your breaths which he uses to his advantage.

His words are soothing in your ear, lips pressed flush against your temple as he tells you how good you are for him, how much he loves the feel of you stretched tight around him. You hand clutches at him blindly, distracting. He threads his fingers with your own and pins it by your head.

When his hips fall flush with yours he gives you a minute, stroking your hair and kissing away the tears that have sprung up again. "Poor pet," he murmurs, petting your cheek. "Daddy'll make it better. Promise."

You nod, perhaps a bit stupidly, and John kisses you as he begins to move again.

You're easy beneath him. Pliant, like he was looking for all along. He wrings the first orgasm out of you easily enough and knows he could probably call it a night, knows you'd sleep well enough by the satisfied look on your face.

He doesn't want 'well enough.' He wants to put you under on his cock alone, drill it into your head that he can give you anything you fucking need.

"What do you say to daddy when he fucks you that good, sweetheart?" His voice surprises him, borderline cruel.

"Th-thank you, daddy."

He hums, rolls his hips into you experimentally. "Want one more?"

He doesn't wait for an answer.

With your legs hooked over his shoulders, John shifts his weight to fuck down into you, his sheer mass keeping you spread and pinned like a butterfly beneath him. Your breath stutters, fingers across his chest, shoulders, biceps. Anywhere you can dig in, find purchase - mark him back.

He knows he's got you dead to rights when your moan turns deep, unaffected. "Fuck, daddy," you groan and John bites back a dark chuckle.

"That it, sweetheart? Right there?"

You nod tightly, cords in your neck nearly visibly with how tight you've already been drawn.

"You gonna cum for me again?"

"Yeah, daddy, please -!"

"Dirty slut, cumming already," he tuts, but he pistons into you exactly the way he knows you need, his own groan caught like gravel in his throat when your cunt starts milking him and you mewl like you're in heat.

He's not nice about it; doesn't even let you wind down completely before his thumb finds your clit, drawing a tight circle across your sensitive little nub while he rocks the head of his cock against that spongey spot deep within you that damn near makes you hiccup in pleasure each time. It's no different now, your breath stuttering out in while you tense and shake beneath him. John waits until you're arched beneath him, clenched so tight around the base of his cock he couldn't cum even if he wanted to -

And then he presses his palm down flat and hard on your mound and you cum so hard it soaks his belly, dripping down to the sheets and collecting in the creases of both your joints.

"Fuckin' hell," he growls, planting one fist on the bed by your hip to support himself as he watches you drift back to earth.

You're fucked out and dazed, already drifting off when John rolls you onto your belly to straddle your hips. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" he rumbles, lowering himself to settle snugly over your back, keep you enveloped in his safe, sturdy weight.

"Yes, daddy," you mumble into the pillow and John presses a whiskery, satisfied smile against your temple. He slips back into you with so little resistance you barely even seem to notice.

"Just needed me, didn't you honey? Get some sleep now, yeah? I'll give you some sweet dreams."

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 20

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i am so excited to get this chapter out to you guys. i hope you enjoy it! its quite long, i don't normally add a word count, but i should warn you before you get started haha

wc: 10,370

[ read chapter 19 here ]

Chapter 20: Of Father's & Basements

You follow Changbin up the stairs in autopilot mode, your body moving one foot after the other without you even thinking about it. Your mind is stuck on what’s happening on the first floor. Why would his father show up like this? Why hadn’t anyone warned you guys before you got on the plane? He didn’t appear at the house, in the country, out of nowhere…someone had to of known he was coming. They shouldn’t have blindsided Chan like that.

“No, I don’t need any help, y/n. I’ve got it,” Changbin attempts to joke.

You blink and refocus on him in front of you. His arms are tense and shaking from the weight of yours and Chan’s suitcases.

“Sorry,” you murmur as he puts them on the ground at the third floor.

He takes in your expression as he raises the handles on the suitcases. He doesn’t say anything further about it as he starts pushing them towards Chan’s door. You trail behind him again.

“Bin?” you call to him when he stops at the door. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not really sure.” he replies, turning to face you.  

“But you have some idea, don’t you?”

You watch his face carefully. He’s typically always smiling or joking about something but right now there’s not a trace of either.

“Is his family alright? No one’s hurt?” you continue.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” he reassures you.

You feel some relief at that, but it’s almost immediately replaced by a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. If his family is alright and his dad still showed up here, two days after Christmas��

You think back to Chan’s behavior on the flight heading to Miami and after speaking with his family on the phone Christmas Eve. He knew something was wrong, even then. Whatever it was, though, he clearly hadn’t expected his father to show up because of it. You don’t want to believe it has anything to do with you, but your gut instinct is telling you otherwise.

“Changbin,” you say, pleading to him with your eyes on the brink of tears. You don’t want to think that you’re the cause of all this. If you hadn’t been so persistent in getting Chan to break down his walls, maybe this wouldn’t be happening right now. You wouldn’t have even asked him to come on the trip, he would have gone home and wouldn’t be facing the wrath of his father two stories below you.  

“It’s not my place to say anything. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.

With his words, you’re reminded of your role in this house. As close as you may have gotten to every one of the members, you are still an outsider. There are certain things you don’t have the privilege of knowing.

Changbin opens the door to Chan’s room and pushes the luggage inside. You walk past him and enter; he closes the door and leaves you alone inside. You resist the urge to crumble on the floor and instead sit on the edge of Chan’s bed. You’ll wait for him to come up and then you can get some answers, you can make sure he’s okay.

Some time passes and he doesn’t come up. When you re-emerge from the room and go back downstairs to find him, you’re informed he’s left the house with his father. You wonder how long they’ve been gone and why he didn’t text you to let you know.

You already know why he didn’t. It’s none of your business. You can’t forget that.

Chan doesn’t come back at all that night.

It’s Wednesday, and even though neither Hyunjin nor Chan are home you still stick to the schedule. You curl up into a ball on your bed in Chan’s room, alone. But you hardly sleep.

The next morning you’re shuffling throughout the house, keeping yourself busy with household chores. It’s why you’re here, is what you keep telling yourself. You interact with the other members and assignees that are home, but everything feels off without Chan or Hyunjin around. You do their laundry—clothes and linen—clean the kitchen, vacuum the floors. Anything to keep your mind preoccupied.

It's well into the afternoon and you’re vacuuming the living room. You don’t hear the front door open; you’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t even hear your name being called. It isn’t until a pair of arms wrap around your waist that you’re pulled from your thoughts, jumping and screaming at the sudden contact.

With one look down at the arms around you, the rings on the fingers…you know it’s Hyunjin. You shut off the vacuum and spin around, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Aww, you missed me?” He teases, squeezing you back just as tightly.

“I thought you were coming back tomorrow,” you say, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Change of plans,” he shrugs, resting his cheek on top of your head as you remain in the embrace.

You don’t want to let him go yet. You need him too much. He lets you hold on to him a while longer and when you finally pull away, he’s smiling down at you. You take in his still darkened locks, perfectly structured face, his plump lips, the adorable freckle beneath his eye, the eyebrow piercing…

Your hand flies to his chin, tilting his head up while the other brushes his hair away from his face.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” you say sternly.

He winces at the use of his surname, taking both of your wrists in his hands to bring them away from his face. He shakes his head causing his hair to fall back in place, covering his eyebrows.

“You hate it?”

You free one of your hands from his loose grip on your wrists and brush his bangs back again, taking in the look on him.

“Well, I do think your face is perfect without it…but it looks good on you.”

“I know,” he responds with a wink.

You swat him on the arm playfully, already feeling more at ease with him at home.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early? I would have come pick you up.”

“You just got back yesterday…I thought I was being considerate,” he explains. “Thought maybe you’d like to rest and here I find you, Cinderella-ing away.”

“I needed a distraction,” you shrug.

He ushers you towards the couch. He sits and you plop down next to him, feeling the exhaustion from the work you’ve been doing all morning hit you all at once.

“How was your trip?” he inquires.

“Better than I expected.” You turn to face him on the couch. “Until we got back…I’m sure you know.”

“I heard,” he nods. “He’s fine. He’ll be back soon.”

You exhale a long sigh. You know better than to ask for more details at this point. Even Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to break their code and explain anything to you. It’s hard to reconcile with that fact, truly. The only person who can elaborate is Chan and he’s nowhere to be found, and there’s no telling if he even will when he returns.

“Did you have a good time back home?” you ask.

“It was nice to see my family. Kkami, most of all,” he tells you. “But I don’t think my mom could get me out of the house fast enough after I showed up with this piercing. She thought my dad would lose his shit if he saw it.”

The tone in which they speak of their fathers is always shockingly cavalier. This does nothing to help your concerns over where Chan is.

“So, you were sent back early?”

“For my own safety,” he laughs.

Considering Chan has been M.I.A for almost 24 hours now after his father showed up, you don’t find this funny at all. Their dads wouldn’t actually physically harm them…would they? The thought makes you feel sick to your stomach. If Chan shows back up with scars or bruises, you are liable to lose it.

Hyunjin hooks a finger under your chin and brings your attention back to him.

“Let’s go get lunch,” he suggests.

“I haven’t even showered yet.” You look down at yourself and brush back the hairs that have fallen from your messy bun.

“Well go shower, I’ll unpack…then we’ll get lunch.”

“I’ll unpack for you later,” you say.

“I need something to do, or I’ll pass out and fuck up my sleep schedule even more.”

“Okay,” you concede softly.

Before you can stand, Hyunjin pulls you onto his lap, his eyes searching yours. He cups your face with one hand, stroking the side of your face with his fingers. You lean into his touch. You want to apologize for being in such a sour mood when he’s just returned home, but all you can muster is a forced smile.

He gives a small shake of his head in return.

You don’t have to say anything. No apologies are necessary. You can feel whatever you’re feeling. You should know that already.

He brings your face to his and places a chaste kiss on your lips. He doesn’t part his lips, doesn’t deepen the kiss. He keeps his lips against yours and you feel a little more of the tension subsiding.

Changbin tries to weasel his way into lunch with you and Hyunjin, but Hyunjin firmly shuts him down. The two of you venture out alone—you have lunch then make a few stops for groceries and to pick up saline for Hyunjin’s piercing. While unpacking, he realized he left the bottle he bought in Korea. Which, of course he did.

When you return home, Chan still isn’t back. You’re sad at that, but far less than you would have been if Hyunjin weren’t here. Your saving grace, however, is pulled away by Changbin and you’re left to put away the groceries with Rhiannon. You’re far from hungry but you help her make dinner for the others that are home.

“He did not,” you say to her when she reveals that Allie texted the group chat what Lee Know got her for Christmas. You left your phone upstairs, not wanting to continuously check it for a text from Chan you know isn’t coming.

“He did. He really did,” she says laughing as she wipes her hands to take her phone out of her pocket. She turns it around to show you the picture.

It’s a selfie of Allie, her expression is a mixture of shock and confusion as she holds a butt plug next to her face.

Charlotte sent several eye covering emojis beneath it.

“What the fuck,” you say, laughing with her.

“I know. Raunchy.” She sets her phone back on the counter and returns her attention to the meat on the stove.

You get back to chopping the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.

“Not just raunchy…it’s actually kinda rude considering he turned down her offer for anal sex last month,” you tell her.

“Exactly! She’s never going to let him do it now,” Rhiannon replies.

Someone clears their throat near the kitchen entrance and you both turn your heads to see who it is.

Chan.

You’re frozen in place, mid-chop. Of course, he’d return while you’re in the midst of discussing anal sex.

You take in his expression—he seems okay. He looks like he didn’t get much sleep, but he’s alive and well on all other counts. His lips turn up into a smile when you look at him and you surely could use your stethoscope right now, because it feels like your heart skips a beat at the sight.

“Hey,” he says to you softly.

“Hey,” you reply.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

He holds his hand out for you. You set down the knife and walk to him, placing your hand in his when you’re close enough. He brings you to him, wrapping his arms around you, hands resting on your ass.

“I am now,” he confirms.  

He still seems like the Chan from your trip, and you let out a small breath. You feared that the brick walls you worked so hard to bulldoze through would be replaced by impenetrable steel. Maybe you overreacted. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as all that you were thinking. Though, what choice had he left you with?

“Will you tell me about it later?” You ask quietly.

“I don’t know that it’s conducive after everything…but I will, if you want me to.”

You nod.

“Okay.” he says.

“Okay.” you echo.

He places a quick kiss to your forehead, then smacks you on the butt.

“As long as you tell me what all this anal talk was about.” He says, loud enough for Rhiannon to hear.

Your eyes open wide, and Rhiannon starts guffawing behind you.

You sit next to Hyunjin for dinner, though neither you eat. It’s just nice to be with everyone again. Well, almost everyone. Jeongin, Lee Know, Felix, Allie and Seungmin still aren’t back yet. You occasionally glance towards Chan—he still seems fine. Though, he’s not actively contributing to the conversation he still chimes in occasionally. You want to know what’s on his mind so badly and silently wish for everyone to finish eating faster.

After dinner, both Chan and Hyunjin go up to their rooms while you help Rhiannon with the dishes.

On your way upstairs, an unfamiliar conflict weighs on you as you ascend to the third floor to see Chan. It’s a Friday…you’re supposed to be with Hyunjin. And you will be. But…the last week and a half with only Chan has you feeling out of sorts. You try to tell yourself that nothing has changed…you still care deeply for them both. The connection you now have with Chan is what you always wanted. This will allow you to be with both of them comfortably. Chan opening up to you and professing the feelings he has harbored towards you for years, however, is what has you out of sorts.

Chan’s door is open when you reach it; you knock on it to alert him of your presence. He’s seated at his desk and spins around in his chair as you enter. His laptop is open and you see the familiar music program displayed on the screen. If he was able to get right back to work on their project, he really must be fine.

“So…” you trail off, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“So,” he repeats. “Anal sex?”

Your expression falls flat, and he chuckles. He knows what you’re here to discuss.

“Okay, okay, sorry. What do you wanna know?”

“Why did your dad come here? Where did you go?”

“To check on me,” he tells you. “We went for dinner and then I stayed at the hotel with him.”

“Check on you for what? Are you unwell?”

You know he’s not, but he’s being brief with his responses. You don’t want to blame him; you are throwing multiple questions at once in his direction. It must feel like an interrogation.

“He knew…he knows…about us, I mean.”

“What about us?”

“That I canceled my trip home to go with you instead.”

“And he flew all the way out here for that?”

“It’s just…not something I would normally do. Skipping out on certain obligations and Christmas with my family, my siblings in particular.”

“Shit, Chan…I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I wanted to go with you.”

“You’ve never missed a Christmas with your family?” He shakes his head. “And that’s why he was so pissed?”

Chan is quiet for a moment.

“The trip was…well, you are a deviation from my plans.”

You arch an eyebrow at that.

“From their plans, you mean?”

“They are my plans, too,” he shrugs, “…he just wanted to make sure I’m not straying from the path.”

“Are you?”

He sighs.

“I’m trying really hard not to. I don’t want to disappoint them, they’ve done so much for me. But I also want to give this a try—being open and transparent with you…even knowing how it will end.”

It strikes you then that you may have to be stronger than Chan at the end of this semester. You don’t know if you can do that.  

“You deserve to be happy too, Chan. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

Until he moves on and finds a suitable partner that will please his parents. You wonder if that’s the obligation he mentioned, but you can’t bring yourself to directly ask him about that.

“I’m gonna try.”

“We’ll just enjoy the time we have together?”

“Yes.”

“And even with all the things you told me in Miami, you’re okay with me sleeping in Hyunjin’s bed tonight?”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you all to myself,” he confesses. “But it’s Hyunjin…I know he’s good to you and handles you with care. And he’ll give you back when I need you.”

When he needs you? You grip the edges of his mattress to refrain from smiling stupidly at that.

“After our trip it feels a little heavier, you know?”

“Does it?” he asks, as though it’s not obvious why it would. “I’ve shared everything with these guys since we were kids…I know it sounds crazy, but this is not that different.”

You scrunch up your face at that. Is he comparing you to a toy or clothing item they share amongst the group?

“So, you’re okay with me sleeping with all of them?”

His eyes darken at that.

“Fuck no. Just one. Just Hyunjin. That’s all I can bear.”

You laugh at his reaction.

“Just checking.”

As convoluted as the overall situation is, his answer makes sense. Aside from him finally opening up to you, nothing has changed. He still felt this way the entire time you’d already been with Hyunjin and there hadn’t been any problems about that. The only difference now is that you know too. And what you will make of that information over time.

“Does it seem unfair?” you ask.

“What?”

“That you only get me…and I get you and Hyunjin?”

“I only get you?” He arches an eyebrow. “The fact that I get you at all is enough.”

The sincerity in his tone makes your eyes sting. He strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I’d trust him with my life…I trust him with you, too. Now, go down there to him before I change my mind and tie you up here.”

A flurry of butterflies make their way from your stomach down to your pussy at that remark. It sounds tempting enough to make you hesitate to return downstairs so quickly. You’ve been without Hyunjin for so long, though. You can’t deny that you physically miss him too.  

You lean forward to give him a kiss before standing.

“See you tomorrow?” he nods. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Back in Hyunjin’s room, you find him in the dark, sprawled out on the bed on his stomach, already snoring. You could have stayed upstairs after all. But after the long day of travel he’s had, his fatigue is understandable. You shake him awake, telling him to get beneath the blankets. He does as you tell him; his eyes still partially closed. You change into your pajamas before climbing into bed with him. He cuddles up to you, throwing one leg over both of yours and resting his head on your shoulder.

You wonder how you’ll adjust to this new normal with both of them. Or if it will ever feel normal.

It’s no surprise Hyunjin remains dead to the world long after you’ve woken up the next day. Even after you shower and return to his room, he’s still knocked out. It’s been nearly twelve hours, which gives you a brief moment of concern. You walk to the side of the bed and stand still, watching him intently until you see the rise and fall of his chest confirming he’s alive.

You head downstairs and see that Changbin, Han and Charlotte are in the living room. You join them, watching TV for a while before Changbin suggests getting supplies for tomorrow. You go to the store with them to buy various New Year’s Eve accessories for everyone. Then, on a whim, take an hour-long detour to purchase fireworks. Changbin tries to assure you they’re the perfectly legal kind, but Han can’t lie to save his life.

You text Hyunjin and Chan to let them know where you are, though you’re sure they’re already aware. When you make it back to the house it’s nearly 5:00pm and the sun has already set. You feel like most of the day has been spent on nonsensical, illegal errands but at least it’s still winter break and you don’t have to worry about waking up for a class tomorrow.

Han and Charlotte immediately go off to his room when you make it back inside, while Changbin and Rhiannon hangout in the kitchen. They mention something about ordering takeout for dinner and you tell them whatever is fine as you make your way to the basement where Hyunjin and Chan are.

They’re in the midst of playing pool. Hyunjin, clad in a pair of black Adidas track pants and a long-sleeved white t-shirt looks up at you and smiles when you enter. He has a thin headband in his hair, keeping it out of his face and putting that striking new eyebrow piercing on full display.

Chan has his back to you. He’s dressed equally as comfortable in his typical sweatpants and  plain black t-shirt.

“We were just talking about you,” Hyunjin announces.

Chan turns around and greets you with a smile as well.

“Oh yeah?” you ask suspiciously. “What about me?”

“All good things,” Hyunjin replies.

“Only good things,” Chan adds.

You squint your eyes at them, “Uh-huh. Sure.”

You stop at the pool table, surveying the game. Whoever is stripes is losing badly

“Wanna take over? I suck.” Hyunjin offers you the pool cue.

“I’m no better,” you say.

“Let’s start a new game,” Chan suggests. “You two can be a team.”

You take the pool cue from Hyunjin, and he busies himself with racking the balls at the opposite end of the table. You walk over to Chan and nudge him with your shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, placing his hand around your waist to pull you close. “Ready to lose?”

“Never,” you say, pushing him away.

Hyunjin finishes setting up the new game then disappears behind the bar. He returns with three drinks—beers for them and a White Claw for you.

“Are we placing bets?” you ask, cracking the top of the can open and taking a sip.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Hyunjin says. “We probably will lose.”

Chan nods confidently and you roll your eyes.

“Alright, let’s get warmed up then,” you say, stepping away from the table to set your drink on the bar.  

 “You guys wanna break?” Chan asks, chalking up the end of his cue.

You and Hyunjin share a look before both shaking your heads.

Chan laughs as he walks to the end of the pool table and bends over. He lines the cue up with the white ball and slides it between his fingers a few times before thrusting forward with so much power that all the other balls are sent in various directions across the table. He sinks a stripe and tosses a wink in your direction.

He goes twice more before it’s your turn. It’s a good thing you didn’t place any bets. You go to take your turn and your form is terrible, you don’t know what you’re doing. Hyunjin comes to assist you, offering a few tips. He stands behind you, placing one hand on your hip and one hand on your arm to help line you up.

“I don’t know if I’d listen to him,” Chan quips. “He might be worse than you.”

You do your best to ignore him and take your shot, but he’s right. You don’t hit anything.

The next time it’s your turn, Chan comes to your aid.

“It’s all about maths,” he says, placing his hands on you in the same way Hyunjin had, but he’s standing much closer. You feel your body get warmer and instinctively lean into him more. You can’t help it. “Geometry. You see the solid green ball?”

Your eyes flicker to where he’s pointing, but you could be looking at a rainbow-colored ball for all you know.

There have been very few times that it’s just been you, Chan and Hyunjin. And never simply hanging out for the hell of it. The relaxed mood of winter break and nearly empty house has provided this opportunity. However, it leaves you feeling uncertain about how to act. You’re not necessarily a completely different person around them alone…but you feel slightly apprehensive about showing either of them flirtatious or sexual attention in a shared setting.

“You can make a bank shot if you hit it at the right angle,” he tells you, bringing your attention back to the game as he guides your cue to the white ball. “Hit it right there—but you gotta use the right amount of force.”

Hyunjin is leaning against the wall, watching and rolling his eyes.

“Listen to this guy,” he scoffs and sips his beer. “Like he’s a professional or something.”

“Try it,” Chan says, stepping back to give you room.

You want to tell him to come back, that you still need more instructions. But how would that make Hyunjin feel? For you to so blatantly yearn for Chan’s touch right in front of him? You doubt that it would upset him…but would he be turned off by it? It is your day to be with him after all, not Chan.

You take a deep breath and shake your head, focusing on the green ball and where you need to hit it. You do exactly as Chan told you and it works.  

You stand up straight with a smile on your face.

“What were you saying?” Chan asks Hyunjin.

Hyunjin says nothing, just sips from his beer again.

You take another turn and miss. You frown.

“Baby steps,” Chan consoles you.

Even with your newfound knowledge, you and Hyunjin still lose the game. Changbin yells down when the food arrives, but the three of you collectively decide to play again instead. Hyunjin and Chan continue their banter, and you feel somewhat like a pawn in their arguments. But not in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable. If anything, it helps you ease into being around them both simultaneously. Something you’ve wanted from the very beginning.

When it’s Chan’s turn to shoot, Hyunjin comes to your side, holding or touching you in some way. And when it’s Hyunjin’s turn, Chan does the same. The fact that they both seem comfortable with it and aren’t making a big deal out of it makes you feel a little better about being so blatantly shared by them.

“If I make this,” Hyunjin says, lining up his next shot. “You have to kiss me.”

Chan, standing next to you with his arm around your waist, pulls you closer to himself but keeps his eyes on the table. You look at the set up as well—the ball Hyunjin is aiming for is literally right next to the side pocket. It’d be nearly impossible to miss. He knows he’ll make it. He wants to kiss you right here? In front of Chan?

You offer a shrug in response, for lack of anything better to do. You don’t want to offend either of them. Touching and caressing, even like they did in the hot tub, is one thing, but full on kissing? Is that not too much? You look back and forth between them—both completely unbothered by the suggestion, though Chan’s grip around your waist seems to tighten.

Hyunjin shoots and sinks the ball in the side pocket, then stands with a proud smile plastered to his face. He saunters towards where you’re standing near the bar and your pulse quickens. Chan drops his hand from your waist and leaves your side, heading to the pool table. Your eyes remain on him as he picks up the chalk to rub across the tip of his cue. Is he giving you some privacy or something?

Hyunjin hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to turn and look at him.

Your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to yours. You start to pull back—assuming it would be just a quick peck—but Hyunjin’s hand moves to the back of your head and holds you in place. His tongue snakes out, slipping past your lips and into your mouth. It’s been over two weeks since you last felt his soft, plump lips against yours. Two weeks since you’ve tasted him. You’d forgotten how much you missed it.

Hyunjin breaks the kiss, pulling away from you with a smile. You feel your face flush and instinctively look towards Chan. He’s watching you both, nodding with his tongue caught between his teeth on the side. You don’t know what to make of that look.

“It’s still your turn, Hyunjin.” he states.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin agrees. “It is my turn.”

He leans forward again to capture your lips. You laugh and push him away, back towards the table to play. You’re well aware of how long it’s been since he’s had you. It is, most definitely, his turn. As crude as it sounds.

Hyunjin shoots again but misses.

“I’m disoriented,” he attests.

Chan walks around the table, looking at the remaining options. When he sees a shot to take, he stops and bends over to line up his cue.

“If I make this, you have to kiss me, y/n.”

You do your best to keep a straight face. It’s the start of winter and the basement should feel much colder, but you’re warm all over. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s these men that seem hellbent on driving you insane.

Chan doesn’t give you an opportunity to agree or not. He shoots, and sinks it in. Of course he does. He straightens himself with a smile and beckons you over with a jerk of his head. You slide off your stool and he leans back against the pool table. As soon as you’re close enough, he reaches for your hip with his free hand and pulls you to him. You let out a quick gasp at the sudden movement. You’re pressed directly against him. You can hear your pulse thumping furiously and you can feel Hyunjin’s eyes on you.

Chan looks down at you, waiting. You slowly push up onto your tiptoes. This is a first for you—kissing one guy then another within a span of minutes. Chan doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. You have to remind yourself this isn’t their first rodeo. Though, you don’t want to think too much on that. You tilt your head back, getting the angle right as your head moves closer to his. When your lips connect, he kisses you back hungrily, almost as if asserting his dominance or expressing his need for you more.

He moves your hips against him, and you can feel cock. He’s hard. He likes this.

You break the kiss and take a step back, eyes still shut. You don’t want to open them. You don’t want to look at either of them right now. You contemplate taking off up the stairs to hide out in the den for the rest of the night. But you wouldn’t do that…you couldn’t. Not when you’re kinda starting to enjoy this too.

The sound of Chan shooting again causes your eyes to snap open just in time to see him scratch.  

“I’m disoriented,” he mimics Hyunjin.

It’s now your turn. You slide past Chan and walk to the other side of the table, looking at the remaining balls. You don’t have many options.

“If I make this,” you say, settling on a shot and lining up your cue. “You both have to kiss each other.”

You spare a glance up at both of them to see their shocked expressions and grin. Good. They can have a taste of their own medicine.

But you miss.  

“I’m disoriented,” you sass.

“Thank God for that,” Hyunjin says and you all laugh.

You play the remainder of the game without any more kissing. You and Hyunjin still wind up losing. Again. You start to rack up for another game when Hyunjin excuses himself to the bathroom.

As soon as he turns to leave, Chan comes up behind you and puts his hands on your hips. He spins you around to face him.

“Chan,” you warn, placing your hands on his chest.

“Hmmm?” he picks you up and sets you on the pool table, not giving you a chance to say anything else before his lips collide with yours.

His mouth and hands are needy, all over you the moment he has you alone. You feel powerless to him when he’s like this—how could you deprive him of what he so desperately wants? You kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist.

His hand finds one of yours and guides it between you, placing it on his hard cock. You bite down on his bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss as you squeeze his cock between your fingers.

“I’ve thought of all the different ways I could fuck you on this table over the last hour,” he asserts, trailing kisses along your jawline and down the side your neck.

“We can’t,” you reply.

He slips his hand beneath your sweatshirt to palm your breast.

“You don’t want me to?”

He forces you down onto the table with one hand and lifts your sweatshirt with the other. He pulls down the cup of your bra, and you let out a deep breath. You know you’d let him take you right here, even if the whole house were in the room.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, removing his hand from your shoulder as he leans down over you, taking your nipple into his mouth.

He swirls his tongue around it, keeping his eyes on yours, daring you to stop him. When you don’t, he pulls down the other side of your bra and latches his mouth on to that nipple.

“But, Hyunjin—”

He bites down on your nipple at that, and you gasp. He releases your nipple from his mouth and blows cool air over it, watching as it hardens.

“You’re mine, yeah?” he asks.

You keep your mouth shut and nod in response.

“You do what I want,” he pinches both of your nipples between his fingers, “when I want.”

“But what if he—”

You’re cut off again when he pinches your nipples harder, pulling on them and making you arch your back. The pain he’s inflicted sends shockwaves straight to your pussy. You don’t know how much of this she can take before turning completely feral. You bite on your lip to keep from crying out.

With your legs hooked around him, you pull him closer to you, wanting to grind yourself against him.

“There she is,” he says with a crooked smile. “I hope I didn’t spoil you too much on the trip.”

He continues to pinch and pull at your nipples.

“The things I said don’t change anything about this.”

The last few days of your vacation had been gentle…some might say loving. You hadn’t assumed he’d turned a new leaf sexually, though. You know what he likes, you know what he wants from you.

He releases your nipples and hooks a finger in the middle of your bra, using it to bring you up to him. He lets go when you’re upright and your sweatshirt falls, covering you up.

“When Hyunjin comes back down,” he says, hands caressing your thighs. “I want you to go upstairs and change into something more comfortable. No panties. No bra. Then come back here.”

Your mind immediately begins racing about why he would want you to do that, but you know better than to question him at a time like this.

“Okay?”

“Yes, Chan.”

He takes a step back and you lower yourself from the table just as Hyunjin returns. You slide away from Chan and head for the stairs, passing Hyunjin on your way.

“You leaving?”

“I’ll be back,” you tell him. “Just going to change.”

He nods at that, and you leave him behind. On your way to follow Chan’s instructions, you see Changbin and Rhiannon cuddled up on the couch. They don’t pay you any attention as you pass by, too caught up in whatever they’re watching. You scurry along to Hyunjin’s room and contemplate what to wear. What does he even mean by something comfortable? You settle on a pair of gym shorts and leave your sweater on but take off the bra beneath it, and put your hair up into a ponytail.

When you return to the basement, the lights above the pool table and bar are off. Just the soft glow of the TV against the back wall illuminates the room. You walk towards it and spot both Hyunjin and Chan seated on opposite ends of the sofa. You take a seat between them with Hyunjin on your left and Chan on your right. Hyunjin tosses a large blanket over you and you hug it tightly to you.

You sit with your legs folded on the couch, body rigid as you overthink which way, if any, you should lean.

Chan controls the TV, scrolling through various movie options. He doesn’t ask what anyone else cares to see before settling on one. Your eyes are very much looking at the screen, but they’re not focused. You don’t know what he picked. Your mind is still trying to figure out why he wanted you to change and if either of them would be offended should you choose to lay on one of them and not the other.  

The movie starts to play, and you immediately recognize that the audio is in Korean. Chan is fucking with you, per usual. He knows there’s no way you’ll be able to concentrate on the film and read the subtitles while you’re sitting between them without any underwear on.

“You comfortable?” Chan’s voice breaks into your thoughts.

You don’t know if he means in general or if you’ve followed his instructions on getting comfortable. You turn to look at him and nod your head in response.

“Lay down,” he says softly but it’s not a request.

With Chan, he’s always in control.

With Hyunjin, it’s an equal balance between the two of you, and never to the extent of what Chan does.

You want to ask which way but you’re feeling all out of sorts at the dynamics. Showing yourself to be completely submissive in front of Hyunjin feels strange, but for all you know, he’s already aware. You don’t know what things they talk about amongst themselves.

You’re still looking at Chan when you feel Hyunjin’s hand on your shoulder. He pulls you to him, laying you against his side. He leaves his hand wrapped around you. You exhale a small breath and snuggle up to him, readjusting yourself so your legs are curled on the couch.

Chan lifts the blanket and pulls some of the excess fabric to cover his lap. He then brings your legs across his thighs and starts to caress them.

You revert your attention to the screen, still unaware of what movie is playing, but you can’t look anywhere else. Not at Chan, not at Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. You know something is about to happen, but not knowing what is bothering you.

Several minutes pass and you start to think maybe, just maybe you’re only going to watch the movie. Maybe Chan just wanted you to get changed, to know that you’re going commando. You know better than that, though.

His hand rubbing your leg slides up to your thigh, high enough to brush against the hem of your shorts with every caress. You tense up a little and Hyunjin begins to rub your arm. Chan moves your legs with his other hand so they’re side by side. He taps thrice on your thigh with his fingers and after this long with him, he doesn’t even have to say anything. You readjust yourself, shifting your hips to create a space between your thighs for him.

Chan resumes caressing the inside of your thigh, his hand inching higher and higher each time until his fingers brush against your pussy. He rubs along your slit with his finger, and you try your very best to remain still. You don’t know if Hyunjin is in on this. If not, are you supposed to contain yourself? Chan must know you won’t be able to.

You keep still until he slips a finger inside and you involuntarily squirm against him. You feel Hyunjin’s hand pause its movement on your arm. You can’t bring yourself to look up at him.

Your uncertainties are answered when his hand leaves your arm and dips beneath the blanket. He slips it beneath your sweatshirt, up your stomach and to your breasts.

Your head snaps up to look at him.

“No?” He asks innocently, and even Chan freezes his movements.

You don’t know if your shock stems from the fact that Hyunjin must be in on this too, or the idea of what is actually happening. This is something you have never done before, but you can’t deny that you want to. You’ve experienced them separately and here they are, offering you both of them simultaneously. And, apparently, giving you the choice to proceed or not.

Seeing the contemplative look in your eyes, Hyunjin begins to knead your breasts. Your eyes flutter shut as you allow yourself to focus on only what you’re feeling. His long, slender hands handle your breasts with a remembered ease. He divides his attention between both of them and you feel the familiar shockwaves sending tingles straight to the nerves of your clit. You clench your pussy around Chan’s finger and slowly open your eyes as you nod.

Being with two men at once is not something you had ever considered before…but where else could you try it safely besides here?

You lean back against Hyunjin and Chan continues slipping his finger in and out of your moistening pussy. Having both of them touching you has your brain on the fritz again.

“Take his cock out,” Chan speaks a command you never thought you’d hear.

Under his direction, you don’t think twice about lifting yourself up to push down Hyunjin’s pants. He lifts his hips, and you slide them down along with his boxers, freeing his cock. It springs up towards you. You take delight at the sight of it, already hard for you while Chan’s fingers continue to slowly pump in and out of your pussy. Is Chan hard too?

You lick your lips, hesitating on your next move.

You glance back at Chan who gives you a quick nod. You then turn to look up at Hyunjin.

“Ours.” His tone and that word are all that you need to help settle your spiking emotions.

Even though his statement directly opposes what you told Chan earlier, Hyunjin is correct. You belong to them both. They can enjoy you together. And you them. However, it’s not lost on you that Chan seems to be calling the shots.

You readjust your body once more and grip the base of Hyunjin’s cock, his hands still fondling your breasts beneath your sweatshirt. You lower your head towards his pulsating member and take it in your mouth. You hear a groan and honestly, you’re not sure which of them it came from.

You feel Chan’s cock twitch beneath your legs on his lap. For a brief moment you wonder if someone might try to come down to the basement and catch you all in quite a predicament. Everyone that’s home, though, seemed preoccupied themselves. And this is the SKZ house, after all. It probably would not be a first.

You begin to bob your head up and down on Hyunjin’s cock as you rock your hips against Chan’s fingers. You’re unable to fully wrap your head around what is happening so you try not to think about it any further, or anything else for that matter. You want to focus on what you’re feeling—pleasing and being pleased at the same time.

You let out a muffled moan as Chan’s thumb finds your clit. He applies gentle pressure and rubs it in circles. You continue to moan around Hyunjin’s cock and the sounds of your pleasure must set Chan off. In the next instant he withdraws his fingers and moves the blanket off you. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you up so you’re on your knees. He yanks down your shorts and palms your ass as you arch your back and stick it out towards him even more.

The change in position allows him better access to you, and you to Hyunjin. Hyunjin adjusts his hands, placing one on the back of your head while the other continues to grope your breasts.

Chan then turns sideways, resting one leg on the couch. He spreads your cheeks apart and then his mouth is all over your pussy while you greedily gobble Hyunjin’s cock. Chan alternates licking between your folds, fucking you with his tongue, and slurping your juices.

You grip the base of Hyunjin’s cock and stroke him as you lift your head for air. His hand moves to your neck, and he uses a finger to turn your head to face him. He leans forward to kiss you. You squeeze your eyes shut as you kiss him back, the sounds that escape your lips are something between a moan and whimper. Your hips are circling against Chan’s face of their own accord, your hand stroking Hyunjin, your tongue in his mouth. You feel like you could lose it.

You break the kiss.

“You feel good?” Hyunjin asks with a sly smile, tugging on your nipple beneath your sweatshirt.

“Too good,” you say. The wanton expression on your face reveals just how good you feel.

“I told you she’d like it,” he says to Chan.

Your head spins at his words. This was Hyunjin’s idea?

“Of course she does.” Chan pulls his face away from your pussy to respond.

You take your hand off Hyunjin’s cock and move away from Chan’s touch too. Your mind is racing, wondering when this was planned. Before you came back home? After you went upstairs? You truly thought that this had to of been Chan’s idea. If they were both in on this, you don’t want to feel like a complete bystander the entire time.

You’re on your knees still, but now fully upright when you look over to Chan.

“Take your pants off,” you tell him.

“Oh, she’s getting into it,” Hyunjin remarks with a light chuckle. You turn to him and silence his laughter with one look.

“And your shirts. Both of you.”

While they remove their clothing you maneuver the blanket so it’s under you and remove your own top before sitting down. You place a hand on each of their thighs, pulling on them until they both get the hint to slide closer to you. You bring your right hand to your mouth, spit on it, then place it on Chan’s cock. You do the same with your left for Hyunjin.

It gives you great satisfaction to see both of their heads hit the back of the couch as you start stroking them in sync. It’s nice to silence them after their smart comments.

Hyunjin’s hand is on you again, caressing up your side, past your ribs and over to your breasts. You turn to your left to kiss him and as you do, Chan lifts your right leg and drapes it between his. His hand, like a magnet, is on your pussy again, rubbing your clit with his fingers. You drape your left leg across Hyunjin, spreading yourself wide open between them.

You break the kiss with Hyunjin and turn to Chan. You lean towards him, slightly, and when he moves to meet you the rest of the way, you duck your head down to put your mouth on his cock. He grunts, placing his hand on the back of your head to force you down on him. You keep stroking Hyunjin with your left hand as your right hand and mouth work on Chan.

“Fuck, y/n. Your mouth feels fucking amazing,” Chan tells you.

You’d smile at that if your mouth wasn’t full of his cock.

You lift your head and move over to your left—Hyunjin’s turn again. You stroke him and bob your head up and down. You’re thankful to have this task, alternating back and forth between licking, sucking, and stroking their cocks to slightly distract you from the feeling of Hyunjin’s hands on your breasts and Chan’s on your pussy. You’d surely have flown off the rails by now without it.

You feel a hand on the back of your neck, but you don’t know who’s it is. It squeezes gently and pulls you upright. It moves to the front of your neck and pushes you back against the couch. You keep your hands gripped firmly around each of their cocks, switching up your pace from fast to slow. You slide your hands up to their tips, smearing around the clear liquid oozing out of them.

You look down to see that it’s Chan’s hand around your throat. Hyunjin’s hand replaces his on your pussy and you slide down on the couch a little, giving him room to enter you.

“Kiss me,” Chan breathes into your ear.

Your head snaps in his direction and you have no time to even think about the fluids you’re all swapping. Your lips are on his, his hand still gripping your throat as Hyunjin fucks you with his fingers. Hyunjin leans towards you from the other side, kissing, nipping, biting your neck. You keep stroking them both, adding more spit as needed. Your hips move back and forth rapidly against Hyunjin’s fingers while Chan uses his other hand to rub your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant between kissing Chan.

“Yeah?” He keeps your head pressed back against the couch.

“Yes, yes,” you reply.

Hyunjin’s other hand goes to your breasts again, pinching and pulling at your nipples. Your body begins to shake as you cry out for more.

“You gonna come for us?” Chan asks, slowing his movements against your clit to tease you.

You look him in the eye as you nod.

“Tell me what you are,” he demands, picking up the pace of his fingers.

You open your mouth to respond, but don’t know what answer he’s looking for. He slows his fingers down again, to which you pout. Does he want to hear that you’re his? Or theirs?

“Look at you,” he says. He uses his hand on your neck to guide your head, showing you where to look.

The three of you are all tangled together. Your hands on them, their hands in you, on you, choking you, pinching you.

Hyunjin’s mouth moves to your ear, nibbling on your lobe before whispering two words.

“Our slut.”

Chan turns your head back to him before you can even get caught up in the semantics of what Hyunjin has just said.

“Respectfully,” Chan adds with a stern look.

The word absolutely has negative connotations but here, with them, you know they don’t mean it as an insult. Considering your current predicament, you can even agree with their use of the word. But because it’s them, because you know them, you know how they feel for you—it feels shockingly endearing to hear.

“Say it,” Chan commands, moving his fingers rapidly against your clit again as Hyunjin presses harder against the walls of your pussy, each time he withdraws his fingers.

Hyunjin replaces his fingers on your nipple with his mouth, sucking on it.

“I’m—I’m—oh, fuck—” you can’t form a simple sentence between your whimpering and moaning.

Chan forces your head back against the couch once more, squeezing tighter around your throat. You feel like your entire body could fucking explode. You grit your teeth together, focusing the few remaining active brain cells you have left to speak.

“I’m your slut,” you manage to eke out.

Chan groans at this and covers your mouth with his again. Hyunjin bites down on your nipple and that, combined with Chan’s tongue greedily invading your mouth sends you flying off the top of Mount fucking Everest with no parachute.

Your hands, still gripped around their cocks, stop their movements as you give way to an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body thrashes around as you whine into Chan’s mouth. They don’t stop touching you, even as the spasms subside.

When you finally open your eyes, the world around you feels like a blur, but you’re still very much aware of the two men beside you, now gently caressing your body.

They don’t give you much time to recover.

“He’s gonna fuck you now,” Chan announces.  

Your legs feel weak and your thighs quiver as you try to bring them back together. As much as you’d like a reprieve, your greediness for them is more prevalent.

Hyunjin slips off the couch and gets on his knees on the floor. He slides you down too, then turns you around. Chan moves over so your upper body is between his legs. He’s stroking his cock as he watches Hyunjin handle you.

Hyunjin pulls you back by your hips until your ass and thighs are pressed against him, letting you feel his cock as it gets hard again. He caresses your ass, then up your back before slowly pushing you down. You have nowhere to look but Chan.

That’s not a complaint, though. He’s the very essence of confidence seated in front of you, hand on his cock. Your eyes trail down from his, past his muscular shoulders and ripped abdomen to his cock, eyeing it hungrily.

You sway your hips from side to side until Hyunjin holds you in place and you whine in protest. You need one of them inside. Somehow, someway. His grip on you is tight as he starts to tease your slit, spreading your slick all around. You move Chan’s hand out of the way to take over stroking him.

“Wait,” he says, hooking a finger under your chin to bring your eyes back to him.

His gaze flickers up to Hyunjin and he gives a curt nod before looking back down at you. You feel the tip of Hyunjin’s cock at your opening and your first instinct is to close your eyes and drop your head.

“Look at me,” Chan orders.

You keep your eyes locked on him, biting your lower lip as Hyunjin, at a painstakingly slow rate, enters you. A moan escapes your lips when he’s finally buried in, to the hilt. He pulls out just as slowly, then thrusts forward with force, the sound of his thighs hitting yours is loud in the quiet basement.

Chan drops his finger from your chin, and you position your mouth over his cock. You spit on it, then work your hand around it to lather it up before gripping at the base and stroking him while Hyunjin fucks you from behind. You press the tip of Chan’s cock to your lips. You kiss it, then smack it against your lips a couple times, making him groan.

“Stick your tongue out,” he says, reaching up to take out your hair tie and let your hair fall around your face. “And keep doing that.”

You open your mouth, stick out your tongue, and do as you’re told.

“Fuck,” he tangles his hands in your hair. When he has a good grip, he forces your head down onto him. All. The. Way. You relax your jaw and tongue and breathe through your nose to accommodate the abrupt invasion.

Hyunjin delivers a smack to your ass as he plows into you, and you moan around Chan’s cock.

“Do that again,” Chan tells him.

Hyunjin grunts, rubbing your ass before smacking it again, harder than the first time. The sounds you make are muffled, with Chan’s cock in your mouth, but he can feel the vibrations.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Hyunjin says as he completely pulls out of you. He rubs the tip of his cock against your dripping pussy. “You like fucking us both, jagiya?”

Chan slightly releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to lift your head. His cock falls from your mouth, and it’s coated in your saliva, as is your chin.

“I do,” you admit. You couldn’t lie if you wanted to. “I really do.”

You resume stroking Chan with one hand while the other slides up his torso and across his abs. You lower your mouth back onto him, sucking and stroking in unison as Hyunjin slams back into you. The motions from Hyunjin’s deep and fast strokes help move your mouth on Chan’s cock.

“Shit—y/n, slow down,” Chan gasps suddenly. He uses his hands in your hair to try and pull you away. You shake your head, mouth still wrapped around his cock. You look him dead in the eyes as you start moving your hips to fuck Hyunjin back. They both made you crumble. Now it’s their turn.

“Fuck me harder, Hyunjin,” you say, holding Chan’s cock at an angle to lick up the shaft from base to tip, keeping your eyes on his.

“I’m gonna come, jagiya,” Hyunjin moans from behind you, pounding into you even harder.

“Please,” you reply. And you don’t know what comes over you with the words that fly out of your mouth next. “Fill up your little fucking slut. Both of you.”

Hyunjin grunts, his breath coming out in spurts as he comes.

“My fucking God,” Chan groans.

You put your mouth back on his cock and his hands fall from your hair. He leans back against the couch, resigned to letting you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, shaking his head, but he doesn’t break eye contact either as he comes in your mouth.

You keep sucking his cock and rocking your hips back against Hyunjin.

Hyunjin is the first to pull away after he’s finished spilling himself inside your pussy. He withdraws himself completely. When Chan’s body finishes jerking, you slide your mouth off him.

“Show me,” he says.

You open your mouth to show him.

“Good girl. Swallow.”

You close your mouth and gulp down his fluids.

In the next instant he slides to the edge of the couch and pulls you against him, kissing you. It’s a hard, but simple kiss. When he pulls back, his brown eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t put a name to. A soft smile spreads across his face as he leans his forehead against yours.

“I told you I can share,” he whispers quietly enough for only you to hear.

He leans back against the couch then jerks his head towards Hyunjin. You turn around to see him splayed out on the ground, catching his breath. You let out a laugh and crawl over to him. He turns his head to you.

“Who are you even?” he asks, exasperated.

You lower yourself down to kiss him, just as hard as Chan had kissed you. Hyunjin moans, grabbing the back of your head to hold you against him as his tongue slips past your lips, his tongue swirling around yours. You relax into the kiss. Not a few hours ago you would have been concerned about kissing him like this after everything that has just transpired, but not anymore. You’re theirs just as much as they are yours. For now.

After wiping yourselves down, the three of you end up pulling the pillows down from the couch onto the floor and use the other spare blankets to make a pallet to lay on top of. You lay in the middle of Chan and Hyunjin but at some point, end up cuddled up to Hyunjin. He’s truthfully the better snuggler. You don’t know when you fell asleep but when you open your eyes again, you don’t even know what time it is. There’s a new movie playing, and a hand has crept between your thighs.

You lift your head from Hyunjin’s chest to see he’s still sleeping. You turn to look over your shoulder and see Chan wide awake, looking at you. He grabs your hand and brings it to his cock. It’s hard, and a look of need is ablaze in his eyes.

“You’re insatiable,” you whisper, rolling over towards him.

“I didn’t have enough,” he whispers back. “I need to fuck you, too, y/n.”

He sits up, with his back against the couch and pulls you onto him. He brings his hand to his mouth to spit on before rubbing it against your pussy, then around his dick. He lowers you down on to him and lets out a long sigh. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your bare chest against his.

He quietly fucks you. Very little is said. You’re not surprised by how quickly you become wet for him and start fucking him back.

Even with a comatose Hyunjin next to you, this doesn’t feel as awkward as you may have once assumed. It doesn’t feel sneaky, doesn’t feel like cheating. They both can have you whenever they want, and you them.

a/n: 10 pages in the word doc of pure smut for you guys. how was it?

since the tag list has not been working, i created a mailing list so i can email those of you who want to know when the chapter is being posted. if you'd like to sign up, click the link below. the email may initially go to your spam folder, it will be coming from writeonwhiskey@214560374.mailchimpapp.com. not spam, just me :)

[ mailing list signup ]

[rosemaze-reveries]

― interlude

norton campbell x you he finds you crying in your room out of anxiety

(this was requested here)

As you slip out of the manor’s ballroom, the sound of lively conversation follows behind you. Voices blend together the further you go, dulled by the winding hallways, and soon you can’t tell them apart anymore. Once in a while a hearty laugh will ring out, shrill and distinct above the rest—a laugh you can usually identify as Demi’s, her self-restraint long lost to copious glasses of wine.

By the time you reach your room upstairs, the chatter is still thrumming through the floorboards. That rhythm is all you can focus on: the pulse of the party, the drum of your heart. You shut your bedroom door behind you before sinking to the floor. All night you’ve felt like an anvil has been weighing down your spirit, and it’s finally snuffed out the last of your strength. With shaking fingers, you clutch your mouth and choke out a staggered gasp, no longer able to stifle your cries.

The manor’s walls are thin, you know that well. Maybe you should feel lucky that the party under your feet will drown out any noise you make. But you still feel the need to make yourself quiet as a ghost, afraid a single sound might hush the entire downstairs into curious silence. As if they’d be climbing over each other to press their ears against the ceiling, eager for a chance to hear the crying guest upstairs. But the party goes on, and your tears go unnoticed.

Time starts to blur in the dim confines of your room. You don’t care to count the minutes, but enough time passes that you rub your nose raw. Before long it starts to feel like you’re teetering on the edge of sleep: swaddled by the pitch-black room, with the neverending song of muffled laughter and clinking glasses as your lullaby. If you shut your eyes long enough, maybe you’ll really fall.

All of a sudden a foreign sound cuts through your haze. Heavy footsteps, like that of a pair of boots. As they drag down the hall your ears prick up, the entirety of your body freezing over. They trudge along slowly, then stop in front of your door.

It’s Norton. He doesn’t announce himself, but he doesn’t have to. You know it’s Norton from his weary gait and the faint whistle in his breath. He pushes open your door without bothering to knock first. It’s clear he’s not expecting anyone to be on the other side of it, because he loudly clicks his tongue when it jams into you, and keeps trying to force it. The wood thuds against your back a few times before he releases the knob with a scoff.

“It’s me,” he says, striking the door twice with the flat of his hand. “Move whatever’s blocking the door.” His knocks feel urgent, but careful. Even when pressed flush against the wood, you don’t feel the jolt of his usual aggression. Still, your eyes squeeze shut. There’s no strength left in you to muster an answer.

Norton himself isn’t what concerns you. It’s having to show him the state you’re in. He’ll have nothing sensitive to say about it, and you’re not in the right mind to brave through that callous indifference of his. Honestly, the thought of addressing anything feels utterly impossible. You’ve been holding your breath ever since his footsteps came trudging down the hall, wishing you could just disappear.

“(Y/N),” he presses.

I’m sorry, you think.

There’s nothing you can offer him that he wouldn’t be able to find at the party. It doesn’t matter what he wants or if you let him in—your answer won’t change from a mortified I can’t help right now, sorry I’m so useless. At least staying in here eliminates the need to say it to his face. He’ll get the memo eventually.

. . .

. . . .

. . . . . .

When you’re certain he’s not fussing with the door anymore, you lean back into it, waiting for the click! of its close. Then you exhale, shallow, shaky, but quiet still. The fresh air tastes sweet in your lungs. It’s your own fault for holding your breath so long, but you’ve never been kind to yourself, especially not in moments like these.

You decide to wait a few seconds before locking it. Every sound you make is another tick on the time bomb, after all. Counting down to what exactly, you wouldn’t know; that’s a detail you’d rather not uncover.

Right when you’ve decided enough time has passed and you fumble for the lock, the door bursts open again. The force catches you off guard, practically sweeping you across the floor, and Norton strides in before you have the chance to push him out again. His eyes lock on you, shadowed by the dark of your room.

It’s an odd, silent reunion. You almost feel like you’re in trouble for something. He doesn’t even greet you before he tears his gaze away, peeking around your bed and bookshelf. Perhaps he thought you’d snuck off with someone.

“N-No one else is in here,” you croak.

“Where are the matches?” he asks, brushing off whatever you were insinuating.

He digs around your drawer until he finds a matchbox, then lights your bedside candle. From your spot curled into your knees, you gaze at his large figure, backlit by the candlelight. You’re still not sure what he came in here for. Though Norton isn’t exactly known for his transparency, not even with you. While he’s occupied at your nightstand, you try to wipe the puffiness from your eyes. It still doesn’t stop the next wave of tears from welling up.

“I’m sorry…” you murmur. He glances over his shoulder, waving out the match.

“For what?”

For crying. For leaving. For shutting him out. But with your words failing you, all you can do is shake your head — ‘forget it’ — and nuzzle deeper into your knees. It’s embarrassing to be the only one who’s ever crying between you two. Norton closes off his heart so stubbornly that you can’t even imagine a tear in his eye. You’re sorry for that, too. For burdening him and not extending the same care in return.

He doesn’t say anything for a while. Stillness overtakes the room — with him standing by your bed, watching you; with you buried into yourself, soft sniffles leaking through. Finally you hear him approach. He crouches in front of you, bringing the candlestick holder with him.

“Hey.” His tone of voice always has a biting edge to it, even when he’s trying to be gentle. He takes your hands, guiding them away from your bloodshot eyes. “Stop crying.”

I’m trying.

“Why didn’t you come get me?”

You shake your head again. “I’m okay,” you insist between snivels. “You didn’t have to come up.”

What use is there in saying that? One look at you gives the truth away. Norton would never take the bait that easily. He reaches a hand for your cheek, wetting his thumb as a stray tear falls.

“You’re a lousy liar,” he says. His hand is warm. Rough, but warm. It tempts you to lean into it, to rest in its gentle hold for a little while. But even with him wide open in front of you, your lingering guilt anchors you in place. You meet his brown eyes, the flickering candlelight reflected within them. Come here, they say. You’re sure you’re just imagining it.

Seeming to sense your hesitation, Norton makes the decision for you. He scoops you up effortlessly, and as you’re raised into his arms another rush of tears floods through you. At the same time, the heaviness you felt before begins to lift. It’s as if you’ve finally been given permission to cry, no longer weighed down by the shame you felt previously. Or maybe you’re just too relieved to care about that now. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders.

“You never have to ask,” he murmurs to you. It’s a reminder you’ve ignored too many times before. He lays you gently on your bed, and you refuse to unhook your arms from around him. He slots himself beside you. You think you mumble out a reply, but you can’t remember what it was before the cloak of sleep comes over you.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 33 The Epilogue | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Some things never seem to change for Bradley. But maybe he worked at keeping them the same. Baseball, Everett and you.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Seventeen and a half years later...

"Happy birthday, Coach," you whispered, slowly coaxing Bradley awake. He could feel your warm breath on his cheek and the weight of your hand resting on his chest. 

"Mmm, Kitten," he rasped, placing his bigger hand on top of yours as he cracked his eyes open. And there you were, fresh from sleep yourself, and so beautiful with the early morning sunlight catching on the angles of your face. "It's Sunday. Why won't you let me sleep in?"

"Because it's your birthday. And we get to see Ev."

Bradley stretched and rolled over so you were pinned deliciously underneath him. "We won't get to see Ev until later this afternoon. He's going to have a very busy day."

"I'm not so sure about that," you said with a smirk as you dragged your fingers through his hair. Bradley knew he was going gray, but you claimed you liked it, including the few stray strands that found their way into his mustache. 

"You sound like you've got something up your sleeve. Wait, Molly's not coming over to break the stove again, is she?"

You started laughing as you wrapped your legs around his. "Not that I know of. But anything's possible with her."

"Poor Bob," he said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "And the kids, too. She's an absolute menace." 

Bradley pulled up your shirt and kissed his way along your breasts. If he was lucky, he'd get round one of birthday sex now and round two tonight after the game.

"Wait," he whined as you tugged your shirt back down. "What are you doing? It's my birthday."

"Yes," you agreed, kissing him once and then slipping right out of bed. "And I've been told I need to keep you on a very strict schedule. So come on. Get up."

"A strict schedule?" he mumbled. "Baby, I'm retired. My schedule revolves around making you breakfast, packing your lunch, coaching tee ball, and watching every single Phillies game."

"Well, I'll be making your breakfast today. And you can eat nachos or a hot dog for lunch even though you should be watching your sodium intake. And we will definitely catch the Phillies game," you said, reaching out to take his hand. 

With one more groan, he let you lead him downstairs where you told him to sit at the kitchen counter. He passed his display case on the way and paused to look at his first Coach of the Year trophy and the baseball covered in little faded hearts that he used to propose to you. He smiled at the collection of other baseballs, including the one from the first time his son pitched a no hitter. 

"Seriously, Bradley. We have a schedule to keep."

A few minutes later he had his World's Greatest Dad mug full of coffee in front of him. You kept checking the time as you pulled eggs and vegetables out of the refrigerator. Once 8:00 hit, you grabbed his phone from where it sat on the counter and entered his passcode as he sipped his coffee.

"Read this," you said, voice full of excitement. 

"What is it?" he asked as you thrust the phone into his hands. It looked like he was going to have absolutely no say over what went on today, so he was just going to go with the flow.

"An article. In the Philadelphia Inquirer. It just got released two minutes ago."

"Okay," he muttered, setting down his coffee and as he started to read.

WILL SEASON FOUR BE AS LUCKY AS ONE, TWO, AND THREE?

by Harrison Boyd

June 27, 2039

From his draft day nearly four years ago to now, Everett Bradshaw has been turning heads. We had collectively wondered as baseball fans from the City of Brotherly Love if we would ever have a truly elite pitcher again after Ronson's career ending injury. But as soon as the franchise acquired Bradshaw, we were allowed to stop wondering. We have reached elite status once again. And Bradshaw shows no signs of stopping. 

When I asked the freshly twenty five year old ace about the secret to his success, the first thing out of his mouth was, "My dad."

Bradley rubbed his eyes with his fingers and took a deep breath against the swell of emotions rising in his chest. "Kitten, what is this?"

You just shrugged as you cut up a green pepper for an omelette. "A feature article on Ev. Keep reading."

Bradley took a deep breath and picked up where he left off.

So I asked him, "Was your dad the one at your games who was cheering the loudest? The one who kept you motivated since you were a kid?"

"Not exactly," Bradshaw replied with a smile. "He was my very first coach. He actually still coaches tee ball in San Diego. He wins Coach of the Year so frequently, I think we've all lost count of how many of those little trophies he has at home. But anyway, I met my dad on the very first day I ever played ball. The very first time I swung a bat with instruction was from him. And he's the one who taught me how to pitch. His slider is still really hard to hit."

"You met your dad through tee ball? Through baseball? That's fascinating."

"Yes. I begged my mom to let me play. I was already obsessed with the Phillies by the time I was six. My mom took me to see them clobber the Padres at Petco Park, and I just thought they were the coolest team. So when she let me play tee ball, and I met my coach and learned he also loved the Phillies, I just wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Turns out, they also wanted to spend time with each other. They got married a few months later. And then my dad adopted me."

While his birth name wasn't Bradshaw, Everett said he never had a close relationship with his biological father. "Really, he's not even worth mentioning. The only one I've ever considered to be my dad is Bradley. I can barely remember a time before he was taking me to the park to hit balls and teaching me how to keep stats. We did my homework together and collected baseball cards. He helped me apply to colleges. The video of him losing his mind when the Phillies drafted me went viral. My mom and my aunt and uncle are awesome, too. But my dad has always understood me in a way probably nobody else ever will."

During his four years at Vanderbilt, Everett earned a reputation as a fun loving, team oriented pitcher. But his stats were enough to catch the eye of every major league team. He pitched a no hitter against Stanford when he was nineteen, and he hit his first grand slam when he was twenty. And he's only cleaned up his form since then. For anyone not keeping track at home, Bradshaw already owns an incredible record in the MLB: he is the only player to pitch a no hitter as well as hit at least one grand slam for every year they played in the pros. His batting averages are practically unheard of for a pitcher. 

It's no wonder he was heavily scouted. And he assures us that his dad was there with him every step of the way. "I didn't know anything about contracts. I just wanted to pitch. But I spent a lot of time talking things through with my dad before I made any decisions. And now everyone is making a huge fuss about my new 440 million dollar ten year extension with the Phils, but to be honest, I still just want to pitch as many games as I can."

The 'huge fuss' is being made, because Bradshaw is now the highest paid pitcher in league history. The Phillies went all in on him, however Bradshaw did adjust his deal to assure that the team would be able to keep top catcher Sanchez as well. "If Miguel Sanchez isn't catching for me and the other guys in the rotation, then that's a big problem. The team needed to retain him as well. And to be honest, Harrison, nobody needs 440 million dollars."

Bradley set his phone down, rubbed his eyes, and said, "I still can't believe our son is the highest paid pitcher ever."

"I can," you replied, adding cheese to the omelette. "He's incredible. Keep reading."

When I asked him what he plans to do with 44 million dollars per year, he kind of shied away from the answer at first. "Well my girlfriend runs a nonprofit organization back in San Diego. She helps fund underprivileged children and schools. So a lot of my income goes back to kids in the city where I grew up and beyond. But I've also been working on a bit of a project myself."

When I asked him for more details, he folded his hands on the table in front of him and took a few beats to answer. "We talked a lot about my dad and what he means to me personally, and how he has impacted my career. But I also think it's important to remember that I'm just one guy. I'm just one kid who went through tee ball and little league. There are thousands of kids across the country who benefit from those types of athletic programs every year. And some of them, just like me, really need the positive influence that the coaches bring. So my dad doesn't even know about this yet, but I'm starting the Bradley Bradshaw Foundation, which will help fund a handful of youth tee ball programs every year. This is something I've been thinking about for a long time. The coaches bring the love and dedication; they shouldn't have to worry about equipment costs and field rental fees."

Bradley dropped his phone onto the counter and tried to wipe his eyes as he sobbed. "I can't even finish reading it."

You slid his birthday breakfast onto a plate and set it in front of him. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck and let him cry against your shoulder. 

"Why is he doing this?" Bradley asked you. "He knows how fucking emotional I get, Kitten."

You kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Yes, you're always very soft for us. But you're also soft and sweet for all the kids you've coached. Keep reading."

So he pushed his breakfast aside and picked up his phone once again. And once he blinked away most of his tears he read the last part.

When pressed about how he thinks his stats will pan out by the end of his fourth season, Everett 'Grand Slam' Bradshaw laughed and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just trying for consistency. I'm trying to be a good teammate. I'm trying to make the best of every game I get to start. I'm trying to spend as much time with my family as I can. But if you really have a specific question about my stats, you should call my dad. He probably knows better than I do."

Bradley stood up from the kitchen counter and walked away from you. "I need a minute," he said, raking his hands through his hair. The love Bradley felt for his son was just simply part of him. He never took the time to try to pinpoint it exactly, because it was just built into him at this point. But he supposed it really was quite simple to reach back in his mind and pull out the moments when he started to fall in love with you and Everett. And it really was just because of the Tiny Eagles tee ball team. 

If he hadn't agreed to help Bob coach that first season, his life would be fundamentally incorrect right now. He didn't even like thinking about it. But it was because of his love for Everett, and you, and baseball that he stuck with coaching. He'd spent time with countless six and seven year olds over the last eighteen years. He'd missed some practices and games for deployments here and there, sure. But giving a little bit of his time and attention to a roster of kids each spring ended up changing his life. Because while his family owned his heart, Bradley found he had quite a lot of patience and love to share with more kids. 

"Bradley?" you asked softly, standing next to his untouched breakfast. "We can go see Ev when you're ready."

"I'm ready."

Bradley took a quick shower and put on his favorite jeans and his Phillies jersey with Bradshaw and the number 1 on the back. You were dressed similarly in your own Everett Bradshaw jersey; it had taken until your son was playing for the team for you to have what Bradley considered an adequate amount of Phillies clothing in your drawers. Once Bradley added his backwards hat, he was ready to go.

You took his hand and led him out to the new Bronco, and Bradley handed you the keys. He still felt like he was on the verge of tears again. "I need you to drive."

"Okay, Coach."

When you turned onto the Private Parking Only ramp at Petco Park, Bradley chuckled. "I still can't believe Ev is playing the Padres in San Diego on my birthday."

"You screamed like a small child when the schedule came out," you reminded him as you parked near the players entrance where the three of you had entered on your ballpark tour eighteen years ago. 

"Yeah, I know, but we hardly ever get to see Ev during the season unless we fly to Philly." He was already climbing out before you turned the engine off, and then he took your hand as you laughed. "Shit, Kitten... it's 10:00. The game doesn't start until 1:00. Are the gates even open?"

"We can get in," you assured him, and you pulled a lanyard out of your pocket with VIP printed all over it. 

"How did we get that?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you as you approached the gate together. "Ev usually just sends us box tickets."

But before you had a chance to answer, the security guard looked at the VIP pass and asked, "Which player are you here to see?"

"Everett Bradshaw?" you replied. "He plays for the Phillies."

The guard's face lit up and he said, "He just autographed a ball for my kids about ten minutes ago! Nicest guy."

"He's our son," Bradley said with pride in his voice, and you squeezed his hand a little tighter. 

"Come on in," the guard said with a bright smile, unlocking the gate and sliding it open. "You can wait in the VIP lounge right up this ramp to the right. Scan the pass to unlock the door. I'll call down to the locker rooms and let him know you're here."

"Thanks," Bradley replied, and you led the way up the ramp. "Baby, I'm still a little confused about why we're here so early."

"You'll see in a minute," you replied, scanning the badge. Bradley pulled the door open when it unlocked, and he followed you into the lounge full of plush seats, TV screens, and refreshments. And at the far end, perched on the edge of one of the long tables, was Everett. He was smiling as he tucked his phone in his jeans pocket, and Bradley thought he looked impossibly taller and stronger than he had two months ago when they visited him in Philadelphia.

Bradley's eyes filled with tears as he started closing the distance to his son. "Happy birthday, Dad," Everett said with a laugh in his deep voice, but Bradley was already wrapping him up in a tight hug. He just wanted to hold all six foot two inches and two hundred and twenty pounds of his son, and Everett let him. 

Bradley had to fight the onslaught of tears as the familiar feel of Ev hugging him back filled his senses, and the words from the article he read earlier flooded his mind. When he finally released him, he patted him on the shoulder. "You look good, Kiddo. Did you eat enough for breakfast? Are you still starting today?"

Ev smiled at him and nodded, "Yeah, I'm feeling good, Dad. I could probably use some of your pancakes though."

"Well why didn't you say something? I could have brought some with us. Kitten, why didn't you say something?" he asked you as you walked over to join them.

As Everett gave you an enormous hug as well, he said, "I'm thinking about sleeping over at the house with you guys tonight, since I'm not starting tomorrow. You can make me about a dozen pancakes tomorrow morning. Hi, mom."

You kissed his cheek and adjusted his backward Phillies cap. "I like your hair this way. You look so handsome, Ev.

"Of course he does," Bradley agreed. "He looks like you." And then he was rewarded with the twin smiles that you and Everett bestowed on him at the same time. "Listen, if you're coming back to the house later, I need to stop and get groceries. You ate everything in the refrigerator and drank all my beer last time."

Everett just smiled at him. "Damn, I really do miss your pancakes."

"Ev, that's an adult word," you scolded.

"Mom. I am an adult," he scolded back playfully. But he was grinning when he turned toward Bradley. "Did mom make you read the article this morning? From the Inquirer?" 

"Yeah," he whispered, nodding his head. "You didn't need to do that for me, Kiddo. But thank you."

His throat was tight with unshed tears as Everett gave him another hug. "I didn't do it just for you. I did it for the other coaches and kids, too. You were just my main inspiration. You always are, dad."

"Please, Ev," he said, sucking in a deep breath as he rubbed his son's back before releasing him. "I might never stop crying."

And he was once again met with Everett's smile and yours. "You're a softie, Coach," you told him, cupping his chin in your hand and kissing him.

"Always for the two of you." Bradley kissed your fingers and then laced them with his as he looked around the room. "How much longer can you hang out with us, Ev? You need to warm up soon?"

"Pretty soon," he replied. "I'll walk you up to the box to meet Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob and the cousins, but we need to stop and take care of something first."

"Take care of what?" Bradley asked, but Ev was already heading for the door past the tables and unlocking it with his own badge. Hand in hand, the two of you followed your son down a long hallway that ended near the locker rooms at a door that said PRESS AND PLAYERS ONLY. "Are we even allowed back here?"

"Well," Everett said, stopping in front of the door, "if you remember the tour we took when I was six years old, this is where we met some of the players."

"Of course I remember," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "That was one of the best days of my life. I told your mom I loved her that day."

"He did," you confirmed for Everett.

"You two have always been sickening," Everett replied with a smile. "But yes, we're allowed in here. Actually dad, you're the man of the hour."

"Man of the hour?" he asked. "Kiddo, you're the star pitcher. It's just my fifty-fifth birthday." 

But as soon as Everett pushed the door open and Bradley stepped inside, about twenty reporters and photographers started buzzing with excitement. 

"Ev, I'm still confused," Bradley said as his son rested a hand on his shoulder. He watched you smile and head to an empty seat at the back of the room. "What's going on?"

Ev rubbed his shoulder before giving him another hug and releasing him. "Every interviewer asks me how I became successful. And my answer is always the same. It's because of you, Dad."

"Ev," Bradley choked out, his throat tight with tears once again.

"So you're in high demand, Coach. I told a few media outlets we would give an interview together. Nothing too crazy. As long as you want to."

Bradley glanced around the room, and as soon as he found you with a bright smile on your face, he said, "Okay."

So he sat down where the players sit, and Everett took the seat next to him. They had on matching jerseys and backward caps, and it didn't matter that he adopted Everett, this had always been his son. They were cut from the same cloth. They understood each other. They were a family. 

Everett cleared his throat and announced, "Hey, everyone. This is my dad and my very first coach, retired naval Captain Bradley Bradshaw. He taught me literally everything I know about baseball. Everything I know about anything, really. He showed me how to pitch sliders and curveballs at Myers Park here in San Diego. He made sure I could lose a game with the same attitude as when I won a game. He and I met the first day I ever played tee ball and the very first day he ever coached. And he's been coaching the Tiny Eagles ever since. So I guess if you want to know more about me, then he's the man to talk to."

Bradley was still wiping tears from his eyes when the first interviewer raised her hand, smiled at him, and asked, "Can you tell us how proud you are of Everett?"

He turned to look at his son and smiled. "How much time do I have?"

------------------------------

Well, that's it! The tale of Coach Bradley! I can't thank you enough to everyone who has been lovely to me as I worked on and posted this fic. I can't get enough of these three. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32 (and thanks for the banner, Mak!)

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

Still want more? Read Draft Day!

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[merrybloomwrites]

Good Girl

Summary: You love how sweet and kind and soft your boyfriend his. But every now and then, you love to bring out his rough side, which always leaves you more than satisfied.

Word Count: 1.7K

Content Warning: cockwarming, p-in-v sex, daddy kink, spanking (just 1 tho)

AN: I was going to do a Louis smut and a Niall comfort fic and then said, nah, I gotta switch that. So enjoy this pure Niall smut!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking up in your plush king bed, you stretch before rolling over to cuddle up to your boyfriend. 

So you’re most upset when you find that Niall is not there. 

Last night had been perfect. He’d gotten home early, the two of you cooked a delicious meal together before falling into bed for a night of slow and gentle lovemaking.

So it’s no surprise that you wake up wanting more. Maybe a little something less slow and gentle. Like being pounded into the bed. That sounds like a wonderful time. You’d love some passionate and rough sex right about now. 

The only thing missing? Your boyfriend.

Huffing out a breath you throw the sheets aside and stand up. You’re just in one of Niall’s large t-shirts and a pair of his boxers, but you don’t change before going downstairs. Maybe appearing like this will help you get what you want.

But Niall isn’t in the kitchen, or the living room, or anywhere on the first or second floors. Which leaves the basement. More specifically, the studio/office that’s down there. 

And that, well that could throw a wrench in your plans. Because if Niall is in work mode, you don’t have much of a chance breaking him out of it. But you don’t let that deter you.

Heading back to the kitchen you start to make a plan. You grab some breakfast then go to the bathroom to freshen up before finally heading down to the basement. 

Peaking your head into the office, you’re not surprised to see Niall at the desk. He seems to be answering emails, which works in your favor. If he’d been working on new music you’d probably be out of luck. He just gets too focused, and truthfully, the guitar would be quite in the way.

But sitting at the desk writing replies? That you can work with. 

“Good morning,” you say as you enter, letting Niall know you’re there.

Immediately he turns, a large smile on his face as he says, “Morning, baby. Sleep okay?”

“I did. Could’ve woken up better, though.” You pout, giving Niall your best puppy eyes to really catch his attention.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” he asks, now sporting a pout of his own.

“I woke up and you weren't there.”

His joking pout now turns into a gentle smile as he reaches out to you. “C’mere,” he says and pulls you to sit in his lap sideways. His arms wrap around your waist and you rest your head on his shoulder, your face tucked into his neck.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I ignored these emails last night to get home to you but I can’t put them off any longer. I promise to come cuddle you as soon as I’m done,” he explains. 

When you don’t reply right away Niall grows worried, unsure what’s going on in your mind. After some silence you finally say, “What if I didn’t want to cuddle?”

“Oh? Then what did you have in mind?”

Without hesitating you press a kiss to his neck and roll your hips down.

“Oh!” He says, now picking up on what you want. “Naughty girl, coming in here to distract me.”

“What are you gonna do about it? Punish me?” You lean back as you say this, your eyes meeting his, your eyebrows raised, challenging him. 

“Yea, maybe I will. Bad girls deserve a punishment. But what should I do with you?” He pretends to think about it, already knowing what he wants. But he likes making you squirm, just a bit. 

“You’ve caused me a bit of a problem,” he finally says. You look at him confused but then his hands go to your waist and he presses you down. You gasp as you feel his hard length press against your bum. “This will be quite distracting. I’d like you to keep me warm while I finish my work. How does that sound?”

A wave of desire rolls through you at that. He knows how much you love cockwarming, but it’s rare that the two of you do it. Normally once he’s inside of you, neither of you can hold back. But this is the perfect opportunity. 

“That sounds like exactly what I need to learn my lesson,” you manage to reply. 

“Good. Get me out and take off those pants,” he says. You stand up and remove the boxers you’re wearing and then your hands go to his waistband. You look at him for a second, waiting for a nod before lowering his sweats and underwear just enough for his cock to spring out. Just the sight of his dick, the perfect length and girth, has you dripping.

“Go on. Keep me warm,” he commands, and you move to straddle his lap. His hands stay on the armrests as you line yourself up and slowly sink down. His expression remains stoic, not giving away if he’s enjoying this at all. It drives you crazy, this uninterested act. It’s so unlike Niall, the man who normally praises you at all times. But it’s so perfect for this moment. 

The shuddering breath he lets out once you’re completely seated on him is the only give away that he’s affected at all. He slides his chair forward and reaches around you to get back to his work. The only sound in the room is the tapping of keys.

You do your best to stay still, but the longer he works, the harder it is. You fidget, then clench around him, causing him to groan. He then lands a smack to your asscheek and says, “Be good and don’t move.”

Not wanting another reprimand you put all your focus on listening to him. But it’s so hard! He just feels so wonderful, filling you up so perfectly. 

After what feels like forever, he stops typing and pushes the chair back from the desk. 

“Look at me,” he says, and you move from where you’ve been hiding against his neck in order to meet his eyes once more. “Think you’ve learned your lesson?”

“Yes, daddy,” you reply. Niall takes a deep breath, that name affecting him deeply. It’s not one you use much, but he knows what it means. It means you want him to take charge, to take what he wants. You just want to give yourself to him. 

“Hold on tight,” he says and you wrap your arms and legs around him. He places his hands under your bare bottom and, in an impressive show of strength, stands up with you still attached to him. He walks a few steps to the couch and lays you both down. 

“Ready for a reward?” he asks, his blue eyes shining with excitement.

“I’m ready,” you reply. He quickly leans down, attaching his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. When he pulls back his eyes are soft, and he says, “If it’s too much just tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you say. After this moment of softness, you watch his switch back to the rough persona he’s using right now. And it has another wave of arousal run through you. Niall's eyes close in pleasure, and you know he’s just felt a gush of wetness escape around his cock. That’s all he needs to start moving, setting a brutal pace from the first thrust.

He pounds in and out of you, hitting just the right spot and sending shocks through your body. Your mouth goes slack, your mind unable to form any words as pleasure continues to grow. 

You’re both getting close, and Niall moves a hand to rub circles on your clit. He knows when you’re just about to come, and he leans down to say, “Be a good girl and come for me. Come for daddy.”

That’s all it takes to send you over the edge. You shout and arch your back, your toes curling as intense pleasure overtakes you. 

“What a good girl, that’s it, ride it out, baby,” Niall says as she continues his thrusts inside you. It’s just when you start to come down that Niall picks up his pace even more, chasing his own high. The rough thrusts send you into a second orgasm before you’ve even recovered from the first, and this time, Niall is coming with you. 

He bits down gently on your shoulder as he releases inside of you, his hips finally slowing. The two of you lay there a moment, breathing in each other's air as you try to catch your breath.

“I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” Niall asks, back to his sweet personality. 

“Okay,” you reply quietly. You hiss as he pulls out, extra sensitive after everything that just happened.

“I know, baby, it hurts a bit, doesn’t it? I’m sorry lovie,” he says, and somehow just those words help ease the pain.

You finally come back to reality and look at the state of the two of you. Niall is still basically dressed and he tucks his now soft cock back into his sweats. He helps you pull down the shirt you’re wearing so that you’re covered as well, knowing how shy you get after. 

“You alright?” he asks.

You give him a dazed smile and say, “So good. That was exactly what I needed. Did you like it?”

“Like it? Honey, I loved it. Absolutely amazing, you are.” You giggle and he leans in for a sweet kiss. 

“C’mon. Let’s get cleaned up and then we can watch a movie together. It’s time for those cuddles I mentioned.” 

Niall helps you stand and walk upstairs. He dotes on you, carefully helping you clean up in the shower and then keeps his promise of cuddles. You’re back in his arms, now resting together on a different couch while one of your favorite movies plays. 

“I love you,” you say, needing him to know what you’re thinking right now.

“I love you too,” he replies.He holds you tighter and presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you melt into the embrace. You truly love him, love every side of him, especially the sides that are reserved only for you. His girlfriend, his love, his good girl.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you for reading! I have a request for virgin reader & fratboy Niall so I am working on that but if you have any Niall requests feel free to reach out!

[babygirl-riley]

Hii so I got a request, could you do Dad!simon coming home and his wife thinks he’s alone but he came home with the task 141 and his daughter woke up going downstairs to go see her father she goes to his lap wondering why his mask is still on and falling asleep on his chest. Thank you!

Home Sweet Home

Simon came clean with his team about having a family. Let alone having a family for 4 years. So why not visit since the holiday is coming up?

A/N: Just the thought of a small child in his arms with his mask on 😭 It’s just so sweet to think of! Hope you enjoy this one anon. 🖤

“What I was living for all along. What I’ve been waiting for.”

taglist

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

Warnings: fluff, family things, just pure happiness, verrrry small angst, husband!simon, dad!simon

Simon was hesitant once he parked the truck into his driveway. Both of your driveway. He didn’t tell you, it was last minute. The boys shouldn’t have known about them wanted to selfishly keep you and the girls away. Other side is danger. The danger is there and he didn’t want to put more eyes and more pressure on the fact that you all could be in danger.

Yet here he is, getting out of his truck as Price, Gaz, and Soap walked up the driveway. “Damn Lt it’s a nice house,” Soap said looking at the home, the front had a decent size lawn with a tree in the middle. Simon huffed as his eyes caught a present in his hand, he turned to walk towards the door. “Never thought you would be a house man.”

“What did ya think I was?” Simon asked scoffing in amusement.

“Lone apartment Lt.” Soap quipped. “Oi I also got a present for the kiddos,” He paused. “Well I hope they will be able to use it.”

Before he reached the doorknob he turned to look at the lads. “What is it?”

Soap smirked with that devilish glint. “Oh ya like it Lt.”

Gaz chuckled. “That means you gonna hate it Ghost.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed before inhaling deeply. “Maybe ya will Simon.” Price commented smirking as he nodding to the door. “Probably shouldn’ keep her waitin’ mate.”

Simon sighed softly. “It might be there nap time so don’ be too crazy ya?”

Price smiled. “Well we can always meet them another time Simon.”

“Make sure Soap will be in line.” Gaz joked as Soap glared at him and smirked.

“Me?”

“Who else?” Gaz quipped back chuckling when Soap elbowed him.

Simon shook his head before looking at the door. God he hopes that this wasn’t a mistake, he inhaled deeply and opened the door. As he walked in he could smell the cookies that you and the girls to hand out during the holiday. He heard the dishes clatter before the faucet was turned off. “Si?” You said turning the corner that led to the kitchen.

“It’s me.” He responded as the boys clattered in behind him. “And others.”

You chuckled, giving a warm smile. I can see that, just in time for some cookies. Come on I can make some tea.” You looked at Simon, he could feel himself soften more. His chest heating up like it always does when you looked at him.

“Daddy?” Your head snapped towards the stairs that led to the other bedrooms. The middle child standing at the top. Once she processed that it was him she came running down the stairs.

Simon knelt down as she smashed into him hugging him. “Hey sweethear’ you should be in bed.”

“I can’ sleep.” She mumbled holding him tighter as he picked her up. She looked behind him to see the others. “Who are you?”

You chuckled quietly and walked over. You wanted her to take her nap but you also knew that once she saw Simon it was over. “Daddy’s friends, I’ll make a deal you can stay up if you go to bed early.”

She looked at you then Simon and nodded. “Okay.”

“Yes,” You looked behind Simon and saw the man with the mohawk smile huge. “S’rry ma’am just excited to meet ya. Johnny.” Switching the present over to another hand to lift his up to you, as the one in the cap shook his head and chuckled softly.

You smiled as you shook his hand. “You can put the present underneath the tree there.” You said pointing the direction with your head.

Simon going past you to talk quietly to Allison. Johnny heading to the tree to place it nicely next to the others. You looked at the one with the cap. “Kyle, beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” You said shaking his head as well then you turned to the man with an unusual facial hair.

“John,” He said smiling and shaking your hand. “Price is fine though.”

You smiled and nodded. “Good Johnny and John will be a good way to have my memory skills be tested.” Price chuckled and nodded. “Well come on then boys.” You said guiding them to the kitchen.

As they paraded behind you, Simon watch as Soap walked up to him and Allison. “My name is Johnny, what’s yours?”

Allison looked at Simon and smiled then to him. “Ya Soap! Daddy likes to talk about ya sometimes!”

Simon’s eyes widened and felt his face go red. Soap laughed and looked at Simon giving him the look of ‘oh you won’t hear the end of this.’ “Oh really now? Dats good to know.”

“In the kitchen Johnny.” Simon said grumbling. Johnny laughed again turning to the kitchen.

“I’ll save ya a seat Simon.” He said back his voice more like he sang it.

Before Simon took a step Allison tapped his cheek. Getting his attention. “Ya have ya mask on daddy.”

Simon looked down at her as she smiled up at him. He didn’t even register it, usually he takes it off before walking in the home. Before the girls he would wear it for a couple of hours of coming home, you understood never telling him to take it off. Never pried. So when Allison mentioned it he froze, he wanted to keep it on. “Daddy is gonna keep it on for a bit longer yeah?” She nodded and jumped a bit in his arms.

“Okay, I want to get mine!” She said excitedly.

Simon chuckled. “Not now, we don’ wanna wake ya sister.”

Allison sighed and leaned into him. “Fine after nap time?”

Simon headed to the kitchen and nodded once. “Yes after naptime.”

As Johnny promised there was a seat next to him. So Simon sat next to him still having Allison on his lap. It was an odd experience, everyone talking and laughing. Johnny would be talking about random things about what they do out in the field. Nothing over PG related at least. Allison would as questions about where they have been, what they do, and if they seen bunnies. Something a 4 year old would ask.

He would tell you about how Simon has this picture of you and the girls that ratted him out. You laughed at Johnny when he mentioned about how he panicked and tried to tell that it was just a picture. Then Gaz found out. Then Price did. Now they were here.

“Hope we didn’t intrude Mrs. Riley.” Price said adjusting in his chair as he took a bite out of a cookie.

You shrugged as you shook your head. “Not at all. We don’t get visitors often.” You smiled looking down at Simon who nodded. You noticed he still had his mask on, never took it off besides lifting it to take a drink out of his tea.

“Your cookies are amazing. How do you make them?” Gaz asked grabbing another cookie off a plate.

You laughed coming behind Simon to take a look at Allison. “That’s a secret Kyle,” When you made eye contact with a sleeping child you looked at Simon. Simon could smell your shampoo, something he missed, something that calmed him. “Simon?”

Simon looked at you, he noticed that you had said something and he didn’t know what you said. “Say that again.” He whispered.

You giggled. “Do you want to put sleeping beauty to bed or you okay with how she is?”

Simon didn’t even noticed that she was passed out. Mouth open, hands gripping his sweatshirt, snuggled deep onto him. Simon shook his head. “I’ll keep her here.”

You smiled and nodded. “I thought so.” You patted his shoulder tenderly.

Price smiled at this interaction, never has he seen his lieutenant so soft. He could even tell through his mask. Price watched as Simon held Allison closer to his chest once they noticed that she was indeed passed out. Price made eye contact with Simon who just gave a nod before getting back into the conversation.

“Ya have to let me know how the girls like the present.” Johnny said as Simon and you walked the boys out.

Simon, who was still holding the sleeping child, was about to say something snarky. Before you said something. “Whatever you got I’m sure it’s going to be loved.” You smiled as you looked at Simon.

Kyle chuckled. “Pretty sure the lieutenant is gonna love it as well.”

“You know what it is?” You asked looking at him.

“Nah just know Johnny likes to see how many buttons he can press.” Kyle said patting his shoulder as Price opened the door. “Thank you for having us again.” You thanked him for coming as he head out the door.

Johnny looked at his lieutenant. “Ya gonna love Lt. Just like ya how ya love me.”

Simon scoffed. “Tha’ really little Sargent.”

Johnny smirked before turning to head out the door. “That’s not what ya little one said.”

Simon glared as he left before Price placed a hand on your shoulder. “Thank you again, next time we will let you know when we come by.”

You smiled placing a hand on his. “It was enjoyable today. We have to do this again.”

Price smiled and nodded then looked at Simon. “See you later son.”

Simon nodded. “Yes sir.”

And with that they left, you shut the door and locked it. “They are kind men Simon.” You said looking over at him then at Allison. “Want to watch some movies while we wait for the monsters to wake up.”

Simon’s chest warmed up, he looked at you with your smile. Just your natural beauty would have him spiraling into a frenzy. “Hm, yeah but Alls might put me to sleep when we sit.”

You smirked. “I wouldn’t blame you, have a personal blanket,” You walked up to rub her back. “She missed you.”

Simon nodded and held her even tighter. He always misses his girls, always finds something that will remind him of one of them. Always tries to bring back some trinket. Something that tells them that even if he is gone for a while that he loves them. “I did too.”

You kissed his cheek. “I will grab blankets.”

It didn’t take long to grab blankets but once you came back Simon had Allison on his chest and was passed out with her. Simon had taken his mask off placing it underneath his head. You smiled and placed the blanket over the both of them. You placed a kiss on both their foreheads. You smiled and just thought of how lucky you were to have such a beautiful family.