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buzzcutlip · 7 days ago

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Cracks and Gaps - The Cat Shrine (part III) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Explicit 8539 words

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than I expected but it's also packed with stuff that needs to be said and done. Plus! I believe this part offers all we've been waiting for iykwim

THE CAT SHRINE "Carmen!" You snap your fingers next to his ear.

"Yeah," he replies, blue eyes melting into yours like ice daggers.

"You're not concentrating," you accuse, huffing.

"I am!"

"You're so not."

Shaking your head, you put your phone down, tired of trying to show the chef the progress The Bear has made in its social media presence. You don’t think it’s important for him to know all the details, but he should be fully informed.

"You haven’t even downloaded Instagram, have you?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"Uhm…" Carmen shifts uncomfortably, guilt written all over his face.

"I knew it!" you exclaim. Although you want to be strict, wanting him to know you take your work seriously and wanting him to acknowledge it, you start laughing when you see the long face he’s pulling. He looks like a dog caught peeing on the rug.

"What’re you laughing at?" Carmen asks sullenly.

You shake your head. "Nothin'," but you still snicker. You like teasing him a little.

When you calm down, you take a sip of your soda from the funky Superdawg cup and take a deep breath. The parking lot offers no shade, and there’s sweat gathering at your hairline. You watch the two mascots—Laurie and Flaurie, sausages perched on the roof of the drive-in. Thousands of people must have done the exact same thing since this spot opened in the '50s.

"Do you think Nat really wants me at Pete’s birthday?" you ask, your face serious. From Carmen's expression, you can tell he appreciates the change.

"I think so," he affirms. "She wouldn’t have asked otherwise."

"She’s too nice. She knows I would find out about it eventually," you muse aloud. "Like, that would be awkward… I hope it’s not only 'cause of the interview and stuff."

Carmen lights a cigarette, shaking his head. "Bullshit." He always waits to smoke until no one around is eating.

You shrug, faking nonchalance, but the idea of Natalie inviting you out of obligation makes you feel sick to your stomach. You don’t need favors or fawning over.

Carmen blows the blue smoke in the opposite direction from you. "She likes you."

The car hood is hot under your butt, and your cutoff denim shorts aren’t doing much to protect your skin. You shimmy uncomfortably, hissing.

Next to you, Carmen looks down at you, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"It’s hot," you whine, trying to tug the shorts lower.

"You okay?" Carmen checks.

"I’m fine," you sigh. "I’m glad to be baking my ass on metal, actually," you say, picking the last bits of caramelized onion from the paper tray. "I watched The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo yesterday. Listened to way too much of Ethel Cain…"

Carmen keeps looking at you, clearly not following.

"'s dark stuff," you sigh again, being pretty dramatic just for effect. You definitely don’t feel too affected by Nordic crime books or songs about escaping a cult and cannibalism. It takes you somewhere else, mentally. Not a bad place, necessarily.

"Uhm—hopefully the hot dog’s cheered you up?" Carmen asks, popping a fry into his mouth, then wiping his hand with the back of his tattooed fingers. They’re long and graceful, the nail beds clean with minimal hangnails. You want to lick them clean.

You give him a smile. A genuine one. "Yep."

Not just the hot dog.

Carmen’s brows furrow a bit as he glances at you, a small smile playing on his lips despite himself. "You’re hard to read sometimes. Like—hm—I don’t know if you’re joking or not."

"You say that like it’s a bad thing," you tease, giving him a playful nudge. His hand steadies itself on the hood as the sun glints off it, the Chicago heat thick in the air around you.

"It’s not," Carmen says, his tone softer now. "It feels more genuine. Authentic. It’s kinda... nice."

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his awkward sincerity. "Kinda?"

Carmen chuckles, shaking his head as if embarrassed by the admission. "Fine. It’s nice."

You smirk, pleased with yourself for drawing him out of his usual seriousness.

"Nat wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you there, you know," Carmen says, circling back to your earlier worry.

"I guess," you reply, still a bit skeptical. "Just don’t wanna be somewhere I don’t really belong."

Carmen’s gaze hardens a little, a quiet determination settling in his voice. "You do belong."

You meet his eyes, surprised at the firmness in his words. For all his hesitation and self-doubt, Carmen has a way of saying the simplest things with absolute certainty when he means it.

"Okay," you reply quietly.

—

In the late afternoon, you arrive at Pete and Natalie’s house. The sunlight’s casting a warm glow over the tree-lined streets, and you’re grateful that the heat’s eased off and you aren’t sweaty and gross before you get in. The house is beautifully maintained, with a fresh coat of paint, a well-kept yard, and soft music spilling out through the open windows. Pete’s job clearly allows them a bit of comfort. For the first time since you were here, all those months ago, you notice these little details.

As you make your way up the walkway, you notice a stroller parked just inside the entryway, along with a soft baby blanket draped over the arm of a chair near the door—the quiet reminders of Natalie and Pete’s new life as parents. You hear soft baby coos over the sound of conversation, which makes you smile. Yet, it’s a reminder that maybe you yourself should start thinking of this kind of life. A life with a serious partner you might start a family with. Someone you will spend the rest of your life with. Probably. Hopefully.

Inside, the party is subdued yet lively. Guests drift through the kitchen and living room, chatting and laughing. You greet a few familiar faces, but you’re not really that close with most of them. The place is clean and pretty, the opposite of the mess you experienced in May. You quickly spit out your gum into a tissue you find in your pocket.

Richie finds you first, thrusting a glass of mimosa in your hand. You didn’t plan on drinking, but this could help with your nerves. You’re not great in new settings, around people you don’t know very well. Luckily, you’re pretty good with kids and you really like Natalie, so when she spots you, you spend about 30 minutes chatting while a few people gather around you. She gives you the baby to hold, and the little boy dozes off in your arms. When Nat takes him back to put him down in the crib, you excuse yourself from Jimmy’s wife and another older lady to go find water and maybe something small to eat.

The kitchen is quiet compared to the rest of the house, and you’re not surprised to find Carmen there, cutting carrots into precise sticks, his knife moving with calm precision. He doesn’t notice you at first, so you have a moment to take in his wide, muscled back under a thin sweater. It’s a very, very nice back that you would really, really like to see without any clothes.

You shake your head, pulling yourself together.

You clear your throat. “Hi.”

The sound startles him, and he jumps, the knife slipping from his fingers onto the cutting board with a loud clatter. “Fuck!” he mutters, spinning around to see you.

“Sorry!” you hurry to apologize, walking all the way to him. “Did you cut yourself?”

“No, it’s fine,” Carmen reassures you, taking a deep breath. “Hey,” he greets you back, a bit calmer now. He seems a bit surprised to see you.

“So, I find you in the kitchen, of all places,” you say with a smile, leaning on the wall. Under your arm is a thick paper envelope with the fresh magazine issue inside.

“I thought maybe you wouldn’t come.” His expression shifts to something warm, less guarded than what you’re used to. You almost blush at his words, unsure of what to take away from them.

Your fingers tighten around the envelope for a moment before you gather the courage to hand it over to him. “I wanted to show you this today.”

Carmen’s gaze drops to the big envelope, and he takes it from you. When he opens it, he sees himself on the cover, and there’s a pause. The main title reads, "Chef Carmen: The Story That Matters."

You feel a slight flutter of nerves. “I wanted to give you a chance to see it before anyone else. We just received a couple of copies yesterday. It’s not on newsstands for another week.”

Carmen nods but stays quiet, just flipping through the pages. You made sure Nat went over the final images with him, confirming he’s okay with the selection, and with the cover that features him wearing a pair of smart black pants and a white t-shirt revealing his tattoos. You see him skimming the article, glancing at the photos of himself in the kitchen and on the set. There are a couple with the whole team at The Bear.

“It’s… weird,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Seeing myself like this.”

You tilt your head curiously. “You’ve been in magazines. Even on the cover.”

“Yeah—just—” he glances back at the pages. “Not with a project that’s as personal as The Bear.”

You nod, understanding. It is revealing. While transcribing the interview and writing the whole feature, you finally had a chance to see through the cracks and gaps and get a glimpse of the real Carmen. The one hiding behind his unapproachable facade.

Carmen shakes his head, chuckling softly. “It’s… a lot. But it’s good,” he admits, his voice soft. He looks back at you, and you can feel the gratitude there, unspoken but genuine. “Thank you. You put a lot of work into this.”

You give a small shrug, trying to keep your own emotions in check.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I doubted you.” The reference to the bumpy start stings, and you almost grimace. “It’s… it’s everything you’ve done to get us here. I don’t think anyone’s ever believed in me like that.”

You want to say something silly, like, “Oh, I knew you’d be the top chef in Copenhagen already,” but you can’t get the words out. You don’t frequent The Bear as often as you used to. After the incident with Carmen, and even after all the apologies, you agreed they would find a proper social media manager, and you would help occasionally. But now you’ve started meeting Carmen outside the kitchen much more, venturing further into the restaurant world with a top chef as your guide. He’s changed, you think. Maybe both of you have.

Finally, Carmen breaks the silence, letting out a small, almost bashful laugh. “Guess I should, uh, keep this somewhere safe?”

You smile, relieved to feel the tension ease, and nod. “Yeah, please. Maybe show it to them when you’re back at work tomorrow? I’m sure Sydney and the others would get a kick out of seeing it.”

You watch Carmen tuck the magazine back into the envelope, and you feel the moment slipping past you. You clear your throat, gathering yourself before you speak.

“Actually, there’s… this event next week,” you start, fidgeting slightly. “It’s a charity cocktail—kind of formal, for a nonprofit that supports community kitchens. I wanted to ask if you’d come with me.”

Carmen raises an eyebrow, caught between curiosity and amusement. “Me?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug that you hope comes off casual. “I mean, you’re on the cover of Taste now, and people will hear about it soon. Thought it’d be nice to… y’know, show you off a little.”

He looks down, an almost shy grin tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t think I was the ‘show-off’ type.”

“Oh, you totally are,” you reply, grinning. “Besides, Nat mentioned you might need to make an appearance or two—good publicity for The Bear and all that.”

Carmen nods, as if he’s already half-resigned. “She has been dropping hints,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was going to ask if you’d come with me to it, too. Got the invite a few weeks back.”

“Oh,” you say, raising your eyebrows. “I thought we’re friends now. You should've asked sooner,” and you hope the word “friends” sounds as casual as you intended.

“Okay—then yes,” Carmen says, and there’s a challenge in his voice, his face serious. It’s clear he doesn’t want to seem like someone afraid of public events and social gatherings in general. You do know the truth, which makes you chuckle.

“How fancy is the event, you think?” he checks, sounding slightly discouraged now.

“Not that fancy, don’t worry.” You grin, leaning a bit closer. “Nothing that calls for a tux, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I can wear a tux,” he juts out his chin, and it’s such a sudden change to his normal demeanor that you feel a bit weak in the knees for a second. Confidence suits him, as you know. And not only while he’s being the Chef.

“No doubt,” you agree with a smile, taking a tray with homemade hummus and carrot sticks from him.

“Oh—I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you remember as you’re both exiting the kitchen with more prepared food in your hands. “How did you survive the photo shoot and interview without any smoke breaks?”

He looks up at you and stays quiet for a moment.

“Nicotine patches. I had to put on three at the same time.”

And you laugh.

—

Carmen picks you up on Thursday at six-thirty. You chew through half a packet of gum while getting ready. A mix of feelings is swirling around in your stomach—excitement, nervousness, and an utter disbelief that you’re so worked up about a professional evening with Carmen.

When he buzzes the intercom, you jump, giving yourself an unnecessary scare, then roll your eyes at yourself. Grabbing a small black purse, you lock up behind yourself and make your way down the four flights of stairs. The air outside is slightly cool from the late afternoon rain, the fresh smell hitting your nose and making you nostalgic.

“Oh my god,” your heart drops to your stomach the second you look at Carmen, who is blankly staring with the most perplexed expression you’ve ever seen. “Have I messed up? Is this inappropriate?” Trying to read more from Carmen’s face, you lift your trembling hands to your mouth. What have you done? Why do you always have to have your way?

You look down at your draped top, barely covering your shoulders, and wide, pleated pants you opted for instead of a more traditional skirt or dress. You’re also wearing high-heeled Mary Janes that bring you to the same height level as Carmen. You hoped he’d get the fashion statement.

“I’m—I can change,” you stammer, turning halfway back to the door, already thinking about what you could swap this for.

As Carmen starts saying, “No, no,” you say, “It said semi-formal.” Carmen reaches for your hand and gently pulls it from your mouth. You’re still confused and freaking out, not understanding anything.

“I just meant—I just wanted to say,” Carmen swallows, “that you look lovely.”

“Oh god,” you sigh heavily with relief, and you both laugh—Carmen a bit awkwardly, and you breathlessly. “Screw you.” You’re pretty sure you feel two stones lighter suddenly.

It’s only later, when you’re both sitting in the back of a taxi taking you to The Field Museum, that you realize what Carmen said. He said you looked pretty. Oh.

—

“This is going to be so awkward,” Carmen says, his eyes never leaving the big, open door with a stream of nicely dressed people heading in through it. The large, Neoclassical building is imposing with its massive Corinthian columns, giving off an air of true greatness.

“Oh, c’mon,” you whine. “I’m actually really excited to see it from the inside without the usual visitors. It’s gonna be fine. You can even get drunk, if you want to.”

“Uh—I don’t really drink,” Carmen says as he finishes off his cigarette, stubbing the end and flicking the butt into the ashtray.

“Maybe tonight you will.” You smile sweetly. Of course, you would never even think of pressuring Carmen—or anyone— into drinking alcohol, but the faded image of the two of you in his houseboat in Copenhagen pops into your head.

“We can just check out Ancient Egypt and go,” you suggest as you watch Carmen fidget nervously from the corner of your eye.

He gives you a tight smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes, then offers you his arm, and together you go in.

The East Atrium is lit up and arranged with round tables and smaller, tall bar tables. It’s a modern addition to the museum designed to blend with the historic architecture. Through the large windows facing the lake, you can see the sun starting to set. There are fresh flowers—hydrangeas, peonies, and tuberose—in the vases decorating the space, and you can’t help but touch the soft petals as you stand by one of the arrangements.

Carmen’s gaze shifts around the room. His arm tenses slightly under your hand, and you can tell he's trying to look relaxed, even as his fingers keep flexing in his pocket. “See? It’s nice in here, right?” you whisper, trying to catch his eye, hoping for a little reassurance that he’s not hating every second. So far, you’ve only met two people you know—clients who regularly advertise in Taste and who did recognize Carmen, pulling him into an intense conversation about cooking stoves. When he spoke to the clients, you noticed his voice was polite but guarded, the rhythm clipped, almost rehearsed. Different from when he talks to you.

Carmen gives a reluctant nod. “Yeah, it’s…not bad.” He scans the room again, and you feel for him, guessing he’s probably trying to uncover any other potential danger. Then he notices the flowers you’ve gravitated toward, and his mouth quirks up—just a bit. “You really like flowers, huh?” he says quietly, watching you brush your fingers over the soft petals.

You grin and shrug. The scent of tuberose mingles with the warmth of the evening, and you get the best idea. “Want to skip the mingling and find the mummies?” you offer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “I mean, what’s a night at the Field Museum without a little ancient history?”

Carmen lets out a soft chuckle, a rare sound that feels like a victory. “Yeah,” he says, sounding almost relieved. “Let’s do that.” As you make your way across the Atrium, Carmen keeps close by your side, your arms brushing. When he opens the door for you, his hand hovers just above the small of your back, the warmth radiating from his palm seeping into your spine through your clothes. The murmured “thanks” is the most you can do without embarrassing yourself.

—

“My dad is obsessed with mummies. He used to take me here at least twice a year when I was a kid,” you say as you aim your phone camera to capture the sleeping artifact. “I’ve never been here after the closing hours though.”

You send a quick, funny message to the chat group you have with your parents, and put the phone back into your purse. Although the narrow corridors and the displays are the same as they were years ago, it never gets old to you.

“I don’t think my parents took me places,” Carmen says next to you, studying the plaque next to the mummy and its decorated sarcophagus. “To cultural institutes and shit. We spent a lot of time at home, or running around our block.”

You feel a pang in your chest for little-boy Carmy. On the other hand, you know that you can’t judge other people’s experiences and the quality of their childhoods and lives based on yours.

“You’re here now. And you can ask anything. I can pretend to be a qualified guide,” you half-joke.

Carmen chuckles softly, though his gaze stays fixed on the ancient figure in its case. His eyes trace over the faded bandages, the meticulous, centuries-old work of preservation.

“It’s just an illusion. Most of the exhibits we see in museums have been stolen from the original countries as part of colonialism or wars,” you sigh, studying the gold jewelry in a display behind the thick glass. “It shouldn’t be like that.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of messed up.”

Next, you check the Book of the Dead and the reconstruction of the ancient marketplace. Here and there, you bump into other people drifting in from the atrium, taking the opportunity to experience the free exhibition too.

“I think I need a drink after the cat shrine,” Carmen points out once you make it back to the lively space of the Atrium. The glass ceiling reveals that the evening’s turned into night. “It was kinda creepy,” he says with a certain hint of unease. You chuckle, patting him lightly on the back. “I think that’s the point. Cats are guardians of the afterlife, gazing into your soul. Maybe they picked you out for judgment, Carmen.” He shudders slightly, pulling a face. “I’d rather stick to cooking for the living.”

More people approach you as you wait at the bar—old colleagues of Carmen from Ever, hospitality people you’ve interviewed, and Regina, the head of sales from Taste.

Carmen holds the two drinks as you find a table off to the side, both of you grateful for the secluded spot. He slides your drink over to you. The tired look on his face proves he’s not too thrilled about the impromptu reunion with old colleagues.

“Looks like you’ve got a fan club,” you point out. The way Regina was looking at Carmen sticks with you—the way she talked to him. Like she wanted to eat him alive. Or fuck him.

Carmen rolls his eyes. “Didn’t realize it’d be a whole industry meetup. Thought I was off-duty tonight.”

“You couldn't have possibly thought that.”

You mirror Carmen and take a sip of the drink to find out what he’s ordered for you.

“That’s—that’s licorice vodka,” you stammer out.

Carmen nods. “Yeah, can you believe they have it here?” A small, secretive smile plays around his eyes. “Did I hit the target, Copenhagen?” Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected nostalgia that hits you as you recognize the drink. It’s simple, unassuming, yet oddly perfect—a reminder of countless late nights and blurry memories from Denmark. You can’t believe he’s remembered. “Yeah,” you say, recovering. “You hit the target.”

Instead of pondering more about the reasons, or the lack of them, behind Carmen’s gesture, you look down at your feet, hissing. “Do your feet hurt?”

“Fuck yes. Like hell!” You can’t help but grimace as you shift your weight, feeling the pinch of your shoes.

Carmen watches you shuffle uncomfortably, and he hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“It’s fine. I was expecting this.”

You take a sip of your drink again, thinking of what you want to say next.

“Do you do all this because of what happened?” you ask, looking at the floor behind his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“The—what happened in the restaurant office,” you add in a small voice, hating to talk about the incident.

Carmen reaches out to lightly touch your hand on the table. “I should've never behaved that way. I was a real dick.”

“That mean yes or no?” you inquire, your heart picking up speed. You don’t know why you’re getting nervous again. “You’ve been super nice to me. And a—a good, uhm, friend.” You say the word ‘friend’ so tentatively it’s almost inaudible in the room. Maybe you hope Carmen’s gonna overhear. It’s such a fragile label of what’s between you.

Carmen actually huffs out a small laugh before he says: “Be nice to nice,” and you lift your head up to glance at him, finding him smiling, so you smile back. You just smile back and don’t say anything else. This is all you need.

—

The next morning, the sun feels harsher than it should. It streams through the blinds, making everything feel just a little too bright, a little too real after last night. You had expected to wake up tired, but what you didn’t expect was the quiet echo of Carmen’s smile and his casual, soft touches lingering in your chest and beneath your skin. Fuck, you think self-deprecatingly. You try to shake it off as you rush to work, but it’s impossible.

During the morning briefing, you keep checking your phone for new messages, but there are none from Carmen. It’s hard not to hope for a follow-up after last night. As innocent and friendly as the whole evening had been, ignoring your growing affection for the chef is impossible now.

When your phone buzzes during your lunch break, a quick glance at the screen tells you it’s Natalie, texting in her usual efficient bursts: Nat: New special menu to be launched tomorrow. Can you stop by The Bear tonight? Nat: Just to check how we wanna communicate it on SoMe. Nothing major! You barely finish reading before the familiar flutter sets in. Nothing major for Natalie usually means chaos in the making. But it’s not her message that has you rushing home after work—it’s the possibility of seeing Carmen again. By the time you’ve touched up your makeup and slipped into a new outfit, your nerves are buzzing. Carmen’s commented on your dresses a couple of times, so you feel like that’s definitely the right choice. You put together a dark blue button-through summer dress with tiny white dots, and a pair of cowboy boots, giving you a look that’s casually cool.

As you get ready, you wonder how Carmen feels about seeing you again so soon after last night. You wonder if he thought about the drink he picked for you, or the way he laughed—so much that his dimples, which you had almost forgotten about, kept appearing by his mouth.

The service is in full swing when you arrive, so you automatically use the back door, heading to the office as quickly as possible through the intensity of the kitchen. You don’t even try to catch a glimpse of blond hair or that familiar white chef’s jacket, even though you terribly want to.

“Looks like it’s already a madhouse,” you say, sliding into the chair next to Natalie in the office. “When isn’t it?” Nat quips, finally looking up with a wry smile. She nods toward the kitchen. “Carmy’s back there somewhere. I told him you’d swing by.” Your stomach does a little flip at the mention of his name, but you nod casually, as if it doesn’t affect you at all. “Okay, let’s see this menu then.”

Natalie starts explaining the dishes, her words efficient but animated, as she describes the seasonal ingredients and the thought behind the pairings. It’s funny how similar the siblings are. Maybe not at first glance, but as you’ve gotten to know them better, you notice the resemblance more often than not.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door swings open, and Carmen steps out. His brows are furrowed in that intense, focused way that somehow makes him look even more attractive. Your breath catches, and you quickly look down at the paper in front of you, pretending to study the menu notes.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and quiet, as he approaches the table. He nods at Natalie, then turns his attention to you. His gaze flickers briefly to your dress. “Hi,” you reply, trying not to sound too breathless. “Thanks for coming,” Carmen says, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before shifting back to Natalie. “So, what’s the plan?”

As Natalie launches into the logistics, you can’t help but steal glances at Carmen. He’s close enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne, and when his fingers brush yours as he passes a page of notes, it feels electric, sending a spark up your arm. If you’d struggled to concentrate earlier, it’s almost impossible now. And you’re the one who’s supposed to share ideas and opinions.

The whole thing stretches into a menu tasting in the only calmer spot in the kitchen—you taking photos just in case, brainstorming about the introduction wording. Then Carmen and Natalie get into a fight—unsurprisingly—before making up. It’s like being on a swing with them, and the whole environment of the kitchen—hot, fast, frantic—makes it even more intense.

—

Absolutely on purpose, you finish fiddling with Instagram just before 11:30 p.m. in the empty kitchen, getting up when you hear what must be Carmen taking out his civvies from his locker. You take your bomber jacket and a handbag, walking over there.

“Hi,” you say, and Carmen’s head pops up through the hole of his crewneck sweater.

“Hey,” he says back. “You’re still here?”

You nod. “Thank you again for yesterday. For taking me with you.”

Carmen looks up at you from where he’s changing his Birkenstocks for white sneakers. “Didn’t you take me with you?” he jokes.

“It was nice either way,” you say, putting on your jacket and hoping Carmen doesn’t hear the hope in your voice. It’s hard to keep the softness you feel for him out of your words.

Carmen hoists his backpack onto his shoulder. “You leaving too?”

“Yep.”

He holds the back door for you, touching your lower back lightly the way he had yesterday. You bite your lip at the slightest contact, resisting the urge to reach back and touch his hand.

You lean against the wall by the door as Carmen locks up and then lights up a cigarette. You haven’t talked much for the rest of the dinner service, but he seems more relaxed, smiles more often. It has you smiling too.

“What?” he checks when he looks over at you.

You shake your head but the smile persists. “Nothin’... I’m glad it all has worked out,” you sigh with relief and content.

Carm blows the smoke above his head, watching it disappear. “Thanks to you,” he says seriously.

“No. No, we talked about this yesterday. I don’t need any credit in this,” you’re shaking your head in resolution, a frown forming on your face. “I don’t want it.”

He steps closer, crowding you against the wall, intention flashing in his eyes, and you can't breathe. Can't imagine that the timid chef would want - that he would want you in a way you've been wanting him.

Carmen gets into your space, and your hands land on his waist, finding purchase on the waistband of his jeans. “Carmy,” you breath out quietly, head tilted down. You don't know what's going to happen but the close proximity to the chef makes you breathless. His hands cradle your face. You only feel the gentle touch, scared to face Carmen fully. But you can smell him again - his deodorant and hair product. Cigarettes.

He surprises you though. “Why do you always smell like cinnamon?” he mumbles, his breath tickling the baby hair around your ear, his mouth an inch from it.

“It's the - the gum,” you answer, trying to stay calm despite your heart beating like crazy. Only now you do realize you called him Carmy. It felt right.

You're not sure for how much longer you can stay still, but Carmen seems to have no trouble dragging the situation out. You are restless, though, you just have to do something.

So you tilt your face up and you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Just to press your lips against Carmy’s, nothing else. It’s actually more of an act to break the tension than an actual kiss. You feel absolutely stupid a mere second after you are back on your feet fully, Carmen right in front of you, unmoving.

“Am I reading this all wrong?” you ask when the chef remains silent, avoiding eye contact with you.

He shakes his curly head, putting space between you two—unwittingly or not, you don’t want to think about it now—and runs a palm over his face, scratching the back of his neck. His body leaning away, the stupid crewneck pulling tight across his shoulders with the stretch of Carmen’s muscles.

“You’re not,” he says, and you almost feel giddy. You bite your lip to stop smiling. Carmen looks pained and worried, and you don’t want to be smiling.

“Then what’s going on?” you ask, reaching for his wrist and stroking the protruding bones there lightly.

“Just—I just feel like I’m going to fuck everything up.”

Slowly, you sway back closer to him, putting all your own nervousness behind. You lay one of your palms against his chest, hoping it could comfort him, the other one back on his waist.

“You know you are hot—” you say quietly, not quite looking him in the eye, “—attractive.” You correct yourself quickly.

“What?” Carmen says, and you can feel him relax a tiny bit, twisting his hand so it’s holding the one that had been on his wrist.

“You work out. You must know that you look good.” You slide your palm a little lower to the abs hiding under his cotton shirt.

It sounds awfully a lot like flirting, but you don’t even know how to flirt. You are honestly so bad at it. And this is only the truth, anyway.

Carmy’s definitely wearing a blush that’s matching yours. It’s spreading down his neck and lower, where you want to put your mouth.

“I just run. Sometimes. After work,” Carmen stammers a little incoherently, probably feeling like you are expecting an answer, or an explanation. And you know he runs every day, and does push-ups and God knows what. It’s a known fact in the kitchen. That’s how he puts space between “work” and “life.” A divider. Even just so small. You understand it. The need to know where your job ends and you start. You can also imagine that it’s something very difficult to distinguish for Carmen.

“I hate running,” you note, your honest mind is too quick to think twice. “But still—I would really like to kiss you. Properly.”

A car wheezes around you, way past the speed limit, and Carmen stares after it. He takes a visible, deep breath, looking into the street on the right, where the street lamps turn into small yellow, glowing balls. It bares the side of his neck to you, thick and vulnerable, and you can’t not look. A shiver runs through you from the evening chill, or maybe something else, too.

“Can we—would you maybe like to come over to my place?” you ask, probably the bravest you’ve ever been.

Carmen clearly thinks about the situation for a couple of seconds before he says: “Ok. Let’s go.”

You blink once, say nothing, and head toward the L with him by your side.

—

On the staircase, Carmen takes your hand into his, long fingers sliding along the top of your hand. While you're unlocking the door, you wonder if Mikaela left potato peels and apricot stones and orange rinds on the kitchen counter in her so-called open compost.

“Come in,” you say over your shoulder. The old, brass hanger is by the main door and you hang your jacket there, then take Carmen's to put away there too. “Would you like something to drink?” you ask politely, stalling on purpose. “We have - “ in all honesty, you are almost scared to open the fridge but Carmen is still standing where you left him, by the door. “We have tonic - “ without his friend gin that disappeared on Saturday - “ - or tap water.”

Carmen's wearing his gray crewneck and in combination with his mussed hair, he looks incredibly soft. “'m fine,” he says, looking at you with his big eyes, looking nervous but somewhat calm. Like he doesn't want to run away, which instantly comes to you as a huge relief.

You go to switch on the two small lamps placed around the room that you call the living room, which is obviously part kitchen and dining room too. The light makes everything even softer, a gentle sort of atmosphere. Suddenly it's easy to find each other in the middle of the room, right where the sofa with patchwork cushions are. WIthout a moment of hesitation, you kinda meet in the middle, and finally, you get to taste Carmen Berzatto.

It takes a few slow, lingering kisses to get bolder, and to your surprise, it's Carmen who gently slips his tongue into your mouth first, and you briefly wonder if he can taste the cinnamon from your gum now. Slowly reaching up to put your hand on the nape of Carmy's neck, you feel the delicate golden chain lying against his vertebra. How long will it take to see him wearing only that?

You push him softly in the general direction of the sofa. It's old and too soft, but you love the faded gray upholstery and how homey the simple piece of furniture is. Soon Carmen´s sitting on it with you on his lap. You’re wearing the dark blue cotton dress and your boots that are digging in the sofa by Carmen's thighs.

Carmen´s not shy, kissing you fully, tilting your head to his liking, stroking your bare arms up and down. You’re breathless on top of him, fingers running through the dark blond curls, giving back as much as receiving. The two of you kiss for long minutes, and you love it. You love how he tastes and how he's touching you, but it's clear that he's holding back. Or maybe it’s just you who is completely overwhelmed with want and need.

“Are you - are you a virgin?” you dare to ask into his ear, kissing his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“What? No,” Carmen says, letting out a breathless laugh.

“It's fine if you are.”

“No,” he repeats.

“Ok.”

You lean back and take his hand to intertwine your fingers together. You can feel how warm your face is, the rushing of your heart.

“I just - just haven’t done anything. In a while,” Carmen says while looking at you, and he´s blushing, the apples of his cheeks darker than seconds ago.

“Me neither,” you reply in the same hushed voice caused by the dark room around you.

“You can touch me,” you invite him, bringing your joint hands to the apex of your thighs where the hem of your dress has rucked up. There´s nothing to be seen, the dress still covering your underwear, and you remember incidentally, that you are wearing a very plain pair of white knickers. Before he has a chance to react to your bold move, you duck down to kiss him, and everything drowns out the buzz of paralyzing excitement.

First you feel the soft touch of the back of his knuckles to press against your throbbing groin, too light to do anything than tease you. Carmen doesn't stop kissing you but it's slower, less measured, while he concentrates on the movement of his hand between your legs. He presses a bit harder, starts rubbing you in circles.

You shudder out a breath, tensing, fingers digging into his shoulders. “‘s nice,” you mutter into his mouth, face hot, too worried that if you don't encourage him, he might stop.

Carmen shortly hums in response and doesn’t stop. He presses open mouthed kisses against the side of your neck and down to the low neckline of your dress. You bite down on your lower lip, overwhelmed. It’s still hard to believe that you have Carmen here on your sofa, between your legs, his unruly curls between your fingers. Only now do you start to realize that you feel so much for him. That this is not just messing around. That you could actually fall in love with him. That you have been falling for him.

With a touch to his sharp jaw, you bring his face back to yours to kiss him deeply again, taking his free hand in yours to guide him, this time up to your breast. You squeeze the heavy weight of it and moan against the side of Carmy’s neck.

“I like it when it hurts a bit,” you whisper bashfully, too aware of how your hair sticks to your sweaty nape, the baby hairs by your ears probably curling with the humidity coming off your own burning skin.

Carmen nods and squeezes, a bit harder than you showed him, and you let out a surprised gasp that turns into a moan, head tilting back in pleasure. His thumb finds your nipple through two layers of clothing and he rubs against it, then pinches. Your eyes fly to his, wide and searching. Surprised by his obvious willingness to please you, you watch Carm’s actions almost breathlessly - how his eyebrows knot in concentration upon every measured touch, the way the tendons in his hand strain when he sneaks his fingers behind the elastic of your underwear. But you need to see more.

“Take this off,” you rasp out, grasping the material of Carmen’s jumper and tugging. “Off,” you mutter again, trying to help Carm out while he gets the garment over his head and off, chuckling breathlessly. You catch his smile and have to grin back, shyly but surely, and you kiss again, Carmen going back where he had stopped.

When you can open your eyes again, you enjoy the sight of Carmen’s muscles straining as he fingers you, looking down at where his fingers are disappearing into you, the elastic waistband digging into his wrist. He’s as concentrated and serious as he gets in the kitchen, plus turned on, if you can judge by the way he worries his bottom lip and the flush that’s spreading down his face to his long neck. Maybe he does get turned on when he’s in the kitchen, you muse, you just never noticed.

The never-ending string of your thoughts, even in this situation, unfortunately, is interrupted by Carm’s palm moving from your bare thigh up to your ass, his fingertips digging into the meat. His other hand speeds up, causing you to mutter, “Fuck,” into his ear.

“Can you come like this?” Carmen asks, and you can feel his wide eyes on you, even though you’re not looking.

“Give me a sec,” you answer in a breathy, raw voice, already mostly there. Your hand travels down into your underwear to touch your aching, swollen clit, while Carmy resumes, rubbing your walls inside. When he curls his fingers, the tips drag over your g-spot. That stirs all sorts of feelings in you, and you moan, then start grinding against his hand, his fingers. Those fingers that you watched chop and stir so many times in secret with quiet rapture, are now in you, bringing you to an orgasm.

Afraid that he could read too much from your face, you drag him into another kiss, dirtier and more desperate than the previous ones. As you near the peak, getting more and more desperate, unable to kiss Carm properly, he mouths at your collarbones, your chest, the top of your breasts. When he uses his teeth, you know he’s testing how far he can go, and you let out an encouraging sound.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your head tips back again, baring your throat to Carmen, as you come. You can feel your thighs tremble and your fingers squeeze Carmy’s shoulders momentarily. Once it washes over you, you slide off sideways from Carmen’s lap, breathing heavily and still biting your lip. You think you didn’t let out a single sound. You didn’t want to.

Carmen gives you a side glance, eyes glassy. He seems to be a bit breathless himself. You notice his eyes going to your breasts, where you can still feel wetness from his mouth, wondering if there are any actual marks left. Judging by the look on Carmen’s face, there might be.

Without thinking, you reach out and tug on the waistband of his Dickies.

“Yeah?” he says, looking at you.

“Yeah,” you nod.

With clumsy fingers, you open the button on Carmy’s pants together. You can’t help yourself — you push up the material of his t-shirt, revealing extra skin.

Your eyes widen as you scan his toned torso. “Running, huh?” you mutter teasingly, stroking your hand down his warm abdomen.

“Huh?” Carmen’s caught off guard, eyes following your hand. “Oh I — I do push-ups — erm — press-ups — sometimes. When I can't sleep.”

God, why is he sheepish? “And how much do you actually sleep?”

“Couple of hours,” he says, but the second word ends up cut off by a gasp as you touch Carmen’s dick, tugging it out from his underwear. He hisses, hips lifting up with the sensation, and you can see his tummy muscles contracting. You start stroking him slowly, as much as the angle allows you, trying out a firmer grip and then loosening up.

Not wanting to make Carmen uncomfortable with shameless staring, you press your face into the outer side of his arm, watching him from under his shoulder wordlessly. Based purely on his facial expressions, you adjust your fingers on his dick, and the rhythm. As expected, Carmy is utterly quiet, his strong jaw clenching. Only here and there, he lets out a harsh breath that you count as a victory. The t-shirt you have your nose buried in smells of generic laundry detergent, cigarettes, and caramelized onion. It also smells like Carmen — like a guy and antiperspirant.

It’s not long before Carmy squirms — “I’m not gonna last long,” he says, fists balling, and it’s so obvious he’s been holding himself back from fucking up into your hand that you feel almost sorry for him. On the other hand, this small thing between you is so fragile, and you are so anxious that you are going to fuck up, so you just bite your tongue and don’t comment on it.

“It’s fine,” you say low, lips moving against the t-shirt again, pretending you have not been watching his every expression, reading deep into every blink of his eyes, every time he wets his lips, jerks his pelvis up a bare inch with pleasure. The tip of his dick is as cherry pink as his lips are, you notice desperately, and you know this image is going to haunt you forever.

“It’s fine,” you repeat sweetly, speeding up your movements, and then Carmen is coming, thick ropes of it landing on your fingers and your wrist and his t-shirt that’s fallen back down over his stomach. He shakes with the force of his orgasm, and you watch his body in awe as it goes through it, still touching him, feeling the hot, slippery skin of his dick in your hand.

The rush of emotions is so strong that you almost panic. Then you look left and up at Carmen—he’s trying to catch his breath, his big eyes are glassy, and his lips are shiny with his own spit, and in that very moment, you believe that he can see right into the core of your own being.

You want to cradle his jaw and kiss him. Instead, you look away faster than he can. Miraculously, a box of Kleenex sits on the coffee table by the sofa, and you reach over to hand it to Carmen.

Next to you, you hear, more than see, Carmen wipe down the mess, pulling his t-shirt back down.

There are two options—either you get up quickly and this is all over for now, or you acknowledge what just happened and try to be all mature about it. To your own surprise, you go with the latter, turning to Carmen, reaching out to touch his forearm lightly.

He looks over at you and smiles, small and gentle.Then he leans in and kisses you on the lips before standing up.

“Can I smoke in here?” he asks, already searching his pockets.

“Yeah. From the kitchen window,” you point in the general direction of the window. There’s a chopped tomato can serving as an ashtray on the outside windowsill. Without a second look, you disappear into the bathroom to fix your damp underwear.

The night stretches, and Carmy never leaves. After his smoke break, you expect things to be awkward. But they aren’t. You split the two-day-old dinner leftovers—vegan spaghetti bolognese from Mikaela—and you eat it on the same sofa where you had been touching and kissing twenty minutes ago, while watching Modern Family, just to have something to fill in the silence that could become uncomfortable.

Carmen changes into your old baggy t-shirt. No denying that you would prefer him without it, but he asks for it himself. When he comes out of the bathroom and lies next to you, he smells of mint, and you hope he didn’t use your toothbrush without asking—because, “bleh”—and he reads your mind, because he says, “I brushed with toothpaste on my finger,” and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin.

You don’t know how, but you both fall asleep.

The stirring in the bed next to you is what wakes you up. Used to sleeping in your double bed by yourself, it takes your hazy brain a moment to remember that it’s not the case tonight. The light from the streetlamp filtering through the window blinds falls on the man next to you. You watch him wriggle under the sheet, sleepy and unguarded. He looks like an innocent boy—with his puffy eyes and messy hair falling over his forehead.

Meanwhile, Carmen’s eyes open and find yours. You’re unsure of what he sees on your face, but he outstretches his arm to touch your bare shoulder, and shuffles closer. Your stomach twists at the nearness.

“You okay?” you whisper groggily. “Aren’t you cold?”

He only shakes his head.

“Okay,” you nod into the pillow, daring to run the pads of your fingers along his forearm, stroking. Carmen’s skin here is baby soft, with no hairs on the inner side. You enjoy his quiet hum as you use your nails lightly. He closes his eyes momentarily, and you would say he shivers, but you can’t be sure.

You’re surrounded by the quiet of the night; even the neighbors above must be asleep because you can’t hear their annoying heavy steps. Tomorrow, you won’t be sure if you dreamt this moment.

“Sleep,” you whisper again, something primal overtaking you as you reach further into Carmy’s hair, smoothing down the tangled curls and continuing over the shell of his ear. Carmen watches you for a little longer until he relaxes completely, his blinks getting longer. You’re so caught up in the rare moment of stillness that you don’t realize at first that he’s falling asleep, until his heavy breathing indicates that he’s gone.

#the bear #carmy berzatto #my fic #carmen berzato #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #carmy x fem!reader #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #cracks and gaps

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squoxle · 1 year ago

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૮꒰ ྀི◜๑◝ ꒱ა 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐟𝐟 ♡ 18+

*𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕙𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕠𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕.*

✩✩𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: <<𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡, 𝐯𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩

✩𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔：Niki!bff x Reader (female)

☆𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒： Romance / Adventure / Fluff

☆𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡：2,849 ~ part 2

☆𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦：𝐈𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐠.

🎀 (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ ~🍦 🍧 🍨 ~ ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ ✧ (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) 🎀

It was a hot summer day, the only thing that kept you from melting was the shade provided by the gigantic oak trees accompanied by the occasional cool breeze. You and Niki decided to spend the day relaxing in city park.

In an attempt to prepare for the day in the heat you stopped at an ice cream stand to buy character themed popsicles.

"How're y'all lovebirds doin' today?" the friendly elderly man running the stand asked upon seeing the two of you. He a wore blue and white pin-striped shirt with a gold name tag reading "Andy." You couldn't help but to chuckle a bit at his remark before voicing your request.

"I'll have one of the Bratz character popsicles." "Okey dokey. And what'll it be for you young man?" "I'd like a SpongeBob one." Niki replied as he reached into his pocket. "Alrighty. That'll be $5."

Niki pulled out a $5 bill from his wallet and handed it to the man through the window. Andy, the old man in carge of the stand, handed the two of you your sweet frozen treats before flashing a warm smile. "Thanks for stopping by. Enjoy y'alls treats," he waved. You both bowed and headed over to a clearing in the park.

"Thanks for paying." you said as you plopped down on the ground. "Well you paid for the snacks last time so it's only fair," he said tearing open the packaging. "Hey, look! It's your twin," you laughed as Niki pulled out a cross-eyed SpongeBob.

"Haha. Very funny," Niki's tone was drenched in sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. "But I'd rather look like a cross-eyed block of cheese than a blonde blow-up doll."

"Oh my god, whatever," you scoffed before throwing up your middle finger as you continued to enjoy your popsicle. Niki burst out into laughter as he successfully annoyed the hell out of you.

"Have you thought of what we should do yet?" Niki asked after the two of you finished your snack. "What we should do about what?" "Don't you remember how we talked about making a little extra money." “Oh, right.” “Soooo?” “Soooo what? I’m not the only one responsible for thinking y’know.” “Well i sure as hell got nothing.” Niki said before laying on the cool grass.

“You could always start up an OnlyFans or stream on discord or whatever. I’ll play for you since you honestly can’t game for shit. All you have to do is look pretty and pretend. I’ll do all the leg work,” he continued. “Are you fucking kidding me?! I am NOT degrading myself for money. How about you do it.” “I would if I were a girl. Guys are so desperate. That’s easy money.” “What the hell? You’re still a minor.” “Only until December 9th, after that, it’s payday. And if I started a fan base now they’d be so fucking eager for my 18th birthday I’d probably get a cash advance.” “You’re sick,” you said shaking your head. “No. I’m just trying to make money.” “Well we’re not doing that.” “Hmm…fine. At least I had an idea.”

“Wait! I got it!” “Got what?” “I know what we could do to earn extra money,” you beamed. “Okay, soooo…” “We should start a babysitting business.” “Oh hell no! I am NOT degrading myself to be a butt-wiping, story-reading, preschool pimp!”

*Ring, Ring*

About a week after that day in the park, you and Niki created your rookie-business. You had a friend working on a website, but for now you ran it through Instagram. With your experiences caring for your cousins, this was gonna be a piece of cake.

*Ring, Ring*

“Hello. Thank you for calling The Drop Stop. How may we be of service to you today,” you answered the phone smiling as Niki rolled his eyes.

"Hello. Sorry for calling at the last minute, but is it possible for you to watch my kid on Friday?" "No problem, ma'am. I just need your child's name and age along with a picture of the child. And I'll need the same information from you as well as a picture of your drivers license." "Okay, you can call me Valerie. And should I send the rest of my information through a text or an email?" "You can send it either way you like. After that you can send me the drop-off and pick-up times for the day." "How much do you charge by the hour?" "For toddlers 4 and under, $14 per hour. For children 5 to 10, it'll be $13 per hour. And for 11 to 16, it'll be $12 per hour." "Okay, perfect. James, my little angel, is 5 years old. I'll be at the Galleria for a meeting with my job and I'll just need you to keep an eye on him for a few hours." "Okay, don’t forget to text us when we should be there. We’ll also need to see your ID again when we get there. Security purposes.” “I understand. And how should I pay you?” “Preferably cash, but we’ll take an electronic payment as well.” “I’ll have the cash for you. Oh, and my husband may come to pick him up if my meeting is running longer than I planned.” “Okay, well you’ll need to provide his information as well.” “Alright. No problem.” “Is that all?” “Yes, thank you.” “You’re welcome. Bye.” “Bye, and thank you again.”

“Omg! That was our first customer! Niki! This is insane!” “Okay, okay, I get it. Now can you stop yelling?” “Oh, sorry. I’m just really excited.” “Yea this’ll be pretty good depending on how much we get paid.” “Well she said a few hours and based on the rate we charge it should be at least $40 each.” “40 dollars?!” “This is just the beginning. It’s $40 right now, but it’ll eventually be more than that.” “Hmm, I guess.”

The job sounded fairly simple. Keep Valerie’s kid entertained for a few hours at the mall while you wait for her meeting to end. You didn’t have to worry about bedtime stories or getting lost looking for something in an unfamiliar environment. You and Niki come here every week, sometimes more than once. So, you knew the Galleria like the back of your hand.

The next day, Valerie sent you the address and time stamps for babysitting James. “4 hours!! What the hell kind of business meeting is 4 fucking hours long?!” “Relax, Niki. Everything’s gonna be fine,” you said as you gathered together a few items you might need in case of an emergency.

“Easy for you to say, I’ve never worked with kids a day in my life.” “Look, do you wanna get paid or not? Because if not, I can take all the money for myself.” “Whatever. I’ll just throw him in a ball pit anyway. That’s easy money. At that point, he’s watching himself and we’re just waiting for a check,” Niki said flicking his hair out of his eyes.

After what felt like an hour, you and Niki drove to the Galleria to meet Valerie and James.

“Hello. This is my sweet James. Say hi Jay Jay,” instead of speaking, James dug the tip of his light-up Velcro shoes in to the shiny tile floors. “He’s a little shy that’s all.” Valerie proceeded to explain to James something that he most likely already knew, ‘Mommy’s gonna go bye bye and these two strangers are gonna watch you till she’s done.’

After exchanging some information, Valerie went off to attend her business meeting.

“So…uhh…what do you like James?” “Humph,” he puffed stamping his foot. “What the hell is his problem?” Niki said flashing you a confused look. “I don’t like you,” James said, looking Niki directly in the eye.

“Me?! What’d I do? See, I knew this was a bad idea. Let’s just go bring him back to his mom and we’ll find another way to make money.”

“Niki! You have to give him a chance. Remember that his mom said he’s shy.”

“I HATE YOU!!” James shouted, before kicking Niki in the shin and pushing his legs.

“OUCH!! Shy my ass. He’s just a whiny little brat. Why else do you think his mom wanted to throw him on us?”

“Because she has a business meeting…”

“You really believe that? Do you realize how much bigger I am than you?" Niki said turning his direction to James. "I could crush every bone in your body...by accident. You're literally underdeveloped in every way. You see all those teeth in your mouth? Yea, they're all gonna fall out one day and then you'll be looking like a wrinkled turtle that sucks on lemons all day until they grow back."

“Shut up, dumbass…” James pouted.

"Niki, you can't talk to him like that," you said turning to face James. “Hey. You can’t say bad words, it’s not nice.” You said before lifting James onto your hip. “How about we go get some ice cream? Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes! Ice creammmmm!” James shouted excitedly, throwing his hands in the air.

Niki rolled his eyes before walking with you to the ice cream shop in the mall.

You and James took a seat at the round table in the food court while Niki ordered the ice cream.

“Since we’re gonna be spending the day together, how about you tell me some things about yourself.”

“Like what?”

“Just copy me, okay,” you smiled.

“Oookay~”

“I’m, Y/N.”

“I-I’m…James.”

“See that wasn’t so bad. So James, what’s your favorite show?”

“Umm…I like Thomas.”

“Wow! Guess what?”

“What?”

“I like Thomas too.”

“Really!!” James’s eyes widened in surprise as he jumped in his seat.

“Yes, and Percy is my favorite engine.”

You didn’t really know much about this show, but you wanted to make him feel comfortable, so you played along. Thankfully, he liked a show you were at least somewhat familiar with.

“Oh yeah, he’s Thomas’s best friend!” He giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“There was this video *giggle* with Thomas *giggle* and he kept saying charm *giggle* but then the guy got mad *giggle* and blasted him with lightning.” James struggled to say before exploding with laughter.

“Shh shh,” you chuckled causing James to immediately cover his mouth, muffling his little giggles.

“Hey, kid. I got your ice cream.” Niki smirked, gliding the bowl of ice cream across the table. “Yay! Ice cream! Yummy!” James excitedly shouting before digging in to his sundae.

“Two scoops of chocolate brownie ice cream with Oreo bits, chocolate chips, gummy bears, sprinkles, and whipped cream. Oh, and chocolate syrup.” “Yay! Thank you!” “You’re welcome,” Niki smiled.

“Was that a smile?” You teased. “Nah, I was just stretching my jaw,” Niki said as he began to make strange expressions in which James saw and started to laugh. “Do that again,” he laughed with his mouth covered in chocolate. Niki smiled at his request and made one last face before laughing himself.

“Aww has Niki made a little friend?” You teased again. “I—“ “Niki? That’s your name?” James said cutting him off. “Uhh, yeah…” “I like you Niki, your funny,” James giggled as he picked up one of the gummy bears. “Here. You can have this one,” James said, handing Niki the cherry flavored gummy bear. “Umm, thanks,” Niki said before eating the candy.

“This is too cute.” “Yea, whatever,” Niki shrugged.

“Hey, James. Do you wanna go to the ball pit after this?” “Yea!” James smiled. “Okay. Well hurry up so we can play before you have to go.” “Hmm…okay.” James's once chipper composure faded to a seemily dispondednt one.

Just as Niki said earlier, after James finished his ice cream they headed to the mall's giant ball pit.

As you were walking, a song started to play causing James to dance.

"Oh, you like to dance too huh?" "Yea. I'm the best dancer in my classroom," James said as he continued to bounce around. "Well maybe next time we can go dancing." "Really!" James stopped dancing to look at Niki. "That would be so fun!" he jumped before grabbing Niki's hand.

The two of them continued walking until they reached the ball pit.

"Niki! Niki! Are you gonna come play with me?" Niki gave an unsure look before being persuaded by James's puppy eyes. "Argh. Okay, sure. Let's go, but only for a little while." "Hehe. OKAY!!!!" James giggled before grabbing Niki's hand and running into the ball pit.

The two of them played around laughing and throwing multicolored balls through the air. About 15 minutes in, James ran off to play with another little kid around his age.

"Looks like you're having fun now huh?" "Yea, he's not too bad I guess," he shrugged.

You and Niki sat on a bench near the ball pit while you waited for James to finish playing around.

"Wheeee!" a random kid came over by you and Niki and started to spin around in a circle before plopping down to the ground, and he continued to do this a few more times before *BLECH* the kid threw up all over you and niki. "What. The. Fuck." Niki said almost in disbelief.

A woman who you assumed was the child's mother rushed over to the two of you.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY BABY??!! YOU DAMN HOOLIGANS!!" "What did we do? We didn't do shit, bitch. Next time keep a closer on your nasty ass little twerp," Niki spat before grabbing your hand and walking off.

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOUR GOING? YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS!" the psychotic woman shouted before launching he shoe at Niki's head.

"HA! You missed me you cross-eyed hoe!"

"Niki! You're just gonna piss her off more."

"I don't fucking care. She brought her dumbass over there screaming at m--" the woman had launched her other shoe at Niki, hitting him directly in the back of the head this time.

"KEEP WALKING BASTARD!" she screamed.

Niki grabbed the shoe off the ground and launched it in her direction.

"NIKI!!" you shouted at him.

The shoe landed directly beside the woman.

"NOW LOOK WHO'S CROSS EYED YA LITTLE PUNK!"

Niki picked up the other shoe and threw it, this time he hit her between he eyes. "It's still you bitch!" Niki laughed before running behind a corner with you.

"AAAARRRRRGGHGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" the woman screamed before running after the two of you.

Niki, still holding onto your hand tightly, ran around the mall before losing her in the large crowd.

"SHIT!!!" Niki spat. "What?" "James. We forgot about James." "Oh my god!" the two of you ran back to the ball pit, hoping to God that James was still in the ball pit playing around.

"James?" you called, looking around to see if you could spot him anywhere. "JAMES!!" Niki shouted at the top of his lungs before crawling into the massive sea of plastic orbs. "JAMES!!" he yelled again.

You had never seen Niki panic before...ever.

"Do you think he left and tried looking for us?" you asked.

"If it weren't for that stupid fucking woman and her bullshit we wouldn't even be in this situation right now." "I know, but talking about it isn't gonna help. We have to find him."

You and Niki walked around the play area calling out James's name, desperatly hoping that you'd see him laughing and playing with another kid. It was of no use. You couldn't find him anywhere.

The two of you walked back to the food court and spotted a familiar face.

"James!!" Niki shouted in excitement. "Why did you leave the ball pit? Do you know how worried I was? Please don't ever do that again," Niki said pulling James into his chest.

"I'm sorry, Niki. I just didn't want to leave you," James said with teary eyes. *sniff, sniff* Still wrapped in Niki's embrace, James started to cry.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad at you. I was just scared something bad happened to you. And don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Niki said as he gently patted James's head. "Do you wanna go hang out together while we finish waiting for your mom?" "Yea!" he smiled before Niki lifted him onto his back.

The two of them danced around until James finally fell asleep in Niki's arms.

"Sorry, I was running late with my meeting. I hope everything went well for-- Oh." Valerie paused seeing James cradled in Niki's lap. "No worries, ma'am," Niki smiled. "Here you go," Valerie said handing each of you an envelope. "Its $130. I hope I can get you two to help me out again sometime." "We'd love to hang out with James again," you said, smiling at Niki. "Wouldn't we?" "Yea, we definitely would," Niki smiled.

"We make a pretty good team don't we," you nudged Niki as the two of you walked to his car. "Yea, we do," Niki said before interlacing his fingers with yours and kissing your cheek.

"Ah..." "What? Too fast?" "No. I-I uhh" "You're so cute," Niki laughed. "Now get in the car, punk," he continued.

🧃.🌱.🍭.🎀.🪁.🧩.🎨.🥰.🖍️.🥁.🧸.👑.🩹.🖇️.🔆

I know these pics don't really relate to the story, but the way he's cuddling this kitty ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ I CANT!!!

❀𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @sussyjake @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @yohanabanana @heecries @rizzhee @heeseungsrealwife @nikittie @rickysblkgf

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dreamonseems · 2 years ago

Note

Okay so heyy

Erling haaland angst like maybe he was at club while y/n was at home and she was scrolling Instagram and saw erling kissing some girl on someone's story.

You can finish it however you want butt I want haaland to get very emotional and start begging for forgiveness

Thanks you love<33

I'm Sorry

Erling Haaland X Reader

Summary: Erling goes partying with the team and puts himself in a bad situation.

Ok, so I'm not really an angst girl, but I tried my best. I hope this is to your liking. I think it turned out OK. I lowkey had a hard time writing this because I love him so much, I can't see him doing anything wrong, lol

Erling was away for a match, but he and Y/N had agreed to FaceTime before he went to bed. He missed her so much and couldn't wait to see her face again. As the call connected, he could see her smiling at him, her hair cascading down her shoulders.

"Hey, baby," he said, grinning at her.

"Hi, you," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "How was the game?"

"It was good," he said, a note of exhaustion in his voice. "We won, but it was a tough match."

"I'm glad you won," Y/N said, her eyes shining with pride. "You played so well."

Erling smiled at her, feeling his heart swell with love. "Thanks, babe. I couldn't have done it without you."

Y/N face softened, and she reached out to touch the screen. "I miss you so much," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

"I miss you too," he said, wishing he could reach through the screen and hold her. "But we'll be together soon."

They talked for a while longer, sharing stories and updates about their lives. As the call drew to a close, Erling felt a pang of sadness. He wished he could be with her, holding her close and feeling her warmth. But for now, he was grateful for the technology that allowed them to stay connected even when they were apart.

He hears a knock on his hotel room door. He pauses for a moment and then excuses himself to see who it is. When he opens the door, he sees a few of his teammates standing there, grinning.

"Hey, man! We're heading out to the bar to celebrate the win. You coming with us?" one of them asks.

Erling hesitates for a moment, looking back at Y/N on the screen. "I don't know," he says.

Y/N speaks up, "It's fine if you want to go with your team, Erling. Have a good time."

Erling nods, feeling relieved. "Okay, I'll go with you guys. Let me just finish up this call first."

He turns back to the screen and smiles at Y/N. "I'll call you later tonight, okay? Love you."

"Love you too," she says, blowing him a kiss.

As he hangs up the call, he feels grateful to have such a supportive partner. He quickly changes into more casual clothes and heads out with his teammates for a night of celebration.

-------------

Erling was out with his team mates, and they were having a great time at the bar, taking shots and having fun. Suddenly, a group of girls approached them and started flirting with some of the guys. Erling was not interested in any of the girls, but one of them kept talking to him, and he was slowly trying to distance himself from the situation.

Just as he was about to leave, one of the girls slipped, and he caught her. He asked her if she was okay, and she replied that she was. Erling turned to his team mates and said that he was going back to the hotel.

but the rest of the group started pressuring him to stay and have more drinks with them. Feeling pressured, Erling gave in and drank a little too much. He found himself sitting alone in the corner of the bar.

The same girl he helped earlier sat beside him, thanking him again for his help. Erling replied that it was no problem, and the girl asked him for a picture. Erling leaned in for the photo, but the girl turned her head and kissed him on the lips. Erling was shocked and pulled away immediately, getting up and leaving.

He debated with himself whether he should tell Y/N or not about what happened, feeling guilty and afraid of losing her.

Unbeknownst to him, someone had snapped a photo of both incidents and sold it to the tabloids. The next day, when Erling arrived at the airport in England, he was greeted by paparazzi asking him questions about the photo. He was mortified when he checked his phone and saw an article with the photo, claiming that he had a mysterious affair.

When he arrived home, he found Victoria sitting on the stairs, her head in her hands, tears in her eyes.

"Please tell me it's not true...Erling, tell me it's not true!" she begged, throwing her phone towards him. Erling picked it up and saw the photo of him kissing the girl all over Instagram.

Erling's heart was racing as he rushed he got to his knees in front of her tears streaming down his eyes.

"Baby, no God, no," he said.

"I swear to you, I never cheated on you or did anything with that girl or any girl." He pleaded with her, even tears falling down his face.

She was in shock. She had never seen Erling cry before, let alone be this emotional. Erling told her the whole story about what happened in the bar, and Y/N listened in silence. After he was done, they sat there in silence for a while. Finally, Y/N Spoke.

"I've never seen you cry before," she said softly.

Erling took her hands, and she could feel him shaking. "I love you so, Y/N," he said. "Please believe me. I would never do anything to ruin our relationship. I'm truly scared that you believe those pictures are real and will leave me. I don't think I'll be able to live without you. I'm so sorry I shouldn't have put myself in that situation. I should have gone home when those girls came up to us. I promise I wont let that happen again please, please forgive I'm so fucking sorry!"

Y/N looked deep into his eyes and could tell that he was telling the truth and that he truly loved her. She pulled him into her arms, and they stayed there for what felt like hours, just holding each other.

Erling's manager was able to obtain the video surveillance from the bar that night, showing that Erling was innocent. Even the girl came out and said that the pictures were a misunderstanding. The articles were taken down, and everything went back to normal.

It was a rough experience, but it brought Erling and Y/N closer together, strengthening their bond and trust in each other.

215 notes · View notes

starsstuddedsky · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 2 - What Happens in the Closet...

reader x jihoon

Chapter 1 | masterlist | Chapter 3

summary: when you're caught in a simple lie, the best solution? dig in and stick to your guns until everything inevitably goes wrong and everyone gets hurt

or, a serial dater and a pessimist fake a relationship in the vain hope that nothing will go wrong

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, lawyer au, coworkers to lovers??? friends to lovers???? fake dating!!!!!

warnings: cursing???? i think that's it???

wc: 5.2k

a/n: tysm for reading!!!! school is kicking my butt this week lol so there's a solid chance there's typos, i'm sorry :(

taglist: open! send an ask or comment!

Jihoon has always trusted his gut. It’s never led him wrong; the schools he chose, the law firms he declined, the clients he advised, they’ve all been good choices. He knows better than to ignore the little feeling deep down in his stomach that doesn’t sit right, warning him that something is wrong.

Unfortunately, this morning he convinces himself it’s just because he hasn’t had his coffee yet.

He multitasks, typing a furious reply to Mark from accounting (who has apparently lost the ability to read, since the information he is asking for is in the first e-mail that Jihoon sent) while also heading toward the pretty wall of expensive coffee makers that played a significant role in his decision to accept the job offer here. That’s why he doesn’t notice you until you practically bounce off his chest.

“My bad, I—” You freeze when you meet his eyes.

I’m sorry, Jihoon tries to say, except the words don’t come out, and now he’s stuck looking at you with the same wide-eyed stare you are giving him. It’s not often that Jihoon finds himself speechless, but there’s so much he needs to say, to explain. Too much. He hasn’t had the chance to even think about telling you the absolutely idiotic things he said on Saturday night, even after he spent all day Sunday staring at his ceiling and imagining how to explain. The only proof it wasn’t all a nightmare is the texts blowing up his phone this morning from Seungcheol and Joshua who managed to find your Instagram (apparently they approved, though it was tricky to explain why he wasn’t following you).

“We need to talk,” Jihoon finally says.

“I really am sorry,” you respond. You lean back against the counter and Jihoon catches a glance of a cup of coffee behind you, a mug decorated in bright letters that spell out your name (Fact #5: you like colors?).

“Not about that,” Jihoon says. “Well, I guess about that, but not really, it’s complicated, and—”

“Morning,” a familiar deep voice says. Jihoon turns around to find Wonwoo behind him. His eyebrows are raised well over his round glasses, forming shapely arches. He slings his arm over Jihoon’s shoulder, glancing between Jihoon and you.

A sudden thought crosses Jihoon’s mind. Even though Wonwoo was shipped off on a last minute “emergency” work trip over the weekend, there is no way that news as inconceivable as Jihoon finally losing his lifelong title of ‘bitchless’ wasn’t the first thing Wonwoo saw the second he turned his phone off airplane mode. Meaning that the side eye he is giving him now is because he’s about to call Jihoon out on the worst lie he’s ever told and turn him into the biggest laughing stock the world has ever seen.

He really should have listened to his gut.

“So,” Wonwoo says, “How long has this been going on?” His grip on Jihoon’s shoulder tightens.

You frown. “What are you talking about?”

“You and him,” Wonwoo says, gesturing between you and Jihoon.

Jihoon elbows Wonwoo, pushing the taller man off. “Not here,” he mutters.

Before he can say anything else, you gasp. “It’s not what you think!”

Jihoon grabs your hand before you can say anything else, pulling you past a bewildered Wonwoo. He ignores the stares of the paralegals and lawyers in the halls as he pulls you past the peering eyes, into the nearest open door, which, unfortunately, is the janitor’s closet. There goes any chance at subtlety.

“Jihoon?” You ask as he fumbles along the wall trying to find the light switch. He’s still holding your hand, which he only realizes when you lightly tug it out of his grasp.

He finally finds the switch, flipping it on to find that it connects to a solitary lightbulb hanging from the ceiling that flickers and is definitely a safety hazard. You’re standing directly under the light. Because the light is tinted yellow, Jihoon gets the faint impression that you’re glowing.

You glance between Jihoon and the door behind him, which he realizes he is accidentally blocking. He steps to the side, not wanting you to think that he’s trapping you in here, though he doesn’t have a contingency plan if you run away now. Not that he has any actual plan right now; none of his Sunday-morning-imaginary-conversations took place in a room that smells like bleach and has lighting that hasn’t been touched since the ‘80s.

“I swear, I have no idea how Wonwoo found out,” you say quickly. “No one knows other than my friends, and I told them we’d both get fired if anyone at work found out, so I really don’t know how he found out, but I swear, I’ll tell him it was just a rumor and it isn’t true at all. I’m really sorry, I know you said you wanted nothing to do with me, so, whatever I can do, I’ll do it, just please don’t report me to HR.”

Jihoon felt bad before, but now if guilt could build a time machine, he’d go all the way back to elementary school and beg his mother to take him with her when she left. Maybe then you wouldn’t be looking at him with actual tears threatening to fall.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s made someone cry, but somehow it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s the one at fault.

“So the thing is,” Jihoon says. “I think it might have been me.” Thankfully your frown doesn’t send the tears tumbling down, but your confusion means that he must, unfortunately, continue to explain. “I sort of told a few of my friends that I was dating someone from work.” He can’t bring himself to say it all, not with his own words echoing in his ears berating you for doing something so foolish. “It’s a very long story, but they believe that I am dating you, and I let them believe it.”

“You let them believe…” you repeat softly, as though you still aren’t understanding. Jihoon can’t blame you; he hardly believes it himself.

“Well, believe isn’t really the right word, because they didn’t see any evidence.” Jihoon had also spent a lot of time on Sunday trying to explain why he didn’t have any photos of you, let alone with you. “So I may have told them that you are coming to my friend’s thing on Saturday. As my date.”

You stare at him. If you keep looking at him with a frown that deep you’re going to get wrinkles, but he figures now is not the time to mention that. There’s nothing he can do now but wait, (most of) the truth now out in the open. He holds his breath as you open your mouth, then close it, then open it again.

“Are you asking me to fake date you?” You finally ask.

“Yes?” Jihoon says.

Fact #6: You have a ridiculous laugh.

He discovers this as you burst into laughter, smile finally breaking the frown as you gasp for breath, clutching your sides. It sounds like something between a machine gun and a dying deer, not that he’s heard either of those sounds in real life before.

“Are you okay?” He asks, because it seriously doesn’t look like you can breathe, and he’s starting to worry that he’s actually broken you.

“You told them you’re fake dating me?” You manage between gasps.

Jihoon sighs. “Yes. Look, I know an apology is overdue—”

“Way overdue.”

“Way overdue,” Jihoon says because you’re mad enough at him already and he can survive appeasing you at least a little. “So I do apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and threatened HR, and I should have talked to you before I did anything as dumb as telling my friends that we are dating.”

“Obviously,” you say.

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asks now that you’ve mostly stopped laughing, wiping a few tears from your eyes.

“I don’t really know how to answer that,” you say.

Jihoon nods. “I don’t blame you for being mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you say quickly. “Shocked and stunned and a lot of other words, but mad isn’t one of them. Mostly, it’s funny.”

“Funny.”

“Funny!”

Jihoon frowns as you burst into giggles again, though you stifle them quickly at his glare.

“Seriously, I mean, who goes off on their coworker and then not even a day later does the same exact thing,” you say. “I’ve always known you were a little… But that’s beside the point, because you are, in fact, asking me to fake date you?”

“Wait, a little what?” Jihoon asks.

You shake your head, leaning against a metal pole, then immediately straightening when you almost knock over a shelf of toilet paper. “I don’t think I’m obligated to answer that.” He opens his mouth but you raise your eyebrows. “If you ask again I’m going to answer something that you won’t like.”

“Is it the truth?”

You shrug. “Do you want me to come to the thing on Saturday and pretend to be ridiculously in love with you or not?”

“You don’t have to be ridiculous,” Jihoon mumbles. He takes a deep breath, trying to convince himself that this is still a good idea somehow (eventually he settles for the conclusion that it’s much too far to turn back now). “Yes, I would like you to please be my date on Saturday.”

“Can you say that again so I can record it?” You ask a little too innocently. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say please.”

“You’ve barely heard me say five words,” Jihoon says. “This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

“With the exception of literally three days ago when you yelled at me. And the presentation you gave in eighth grade on the importance of fish in the ecosystem of the creek by the school and you were so excited because you brought your fish except it died on the way to school and you were so upset you locked yourself in the bathroom and they had to call your dad to pick you up.” You look a little too smug.

“If you tell anyone about that, I’m telling them about the time you wrote an entire essay on symbolism in the Harry Potter series over the summer, and then it wasn’t even accepted because they said extra credit was unethical.”

“You remember that?” You frown at him. “Look, I was a different person back then. J.K. Rowling was a different person back then.”

“Pretty sure a TERF is always a TERF,” Jihoon says. It’s easy to fall into banter with you. He finds himself wondering why he’s never spoken to you like this before, until he remembers Fundamental Fact #3: you are an idiot in love.

More than anything, he wants to leave this closet. Run away and lock himself in his room and dive into his work (and tell Mark that he’s an idiot who can’t read) and forget all of this. But you still haven’t said yes.

“I will do whatever you want,” he says, quickly adding, “within reason,” because your eyes light up a little too brightly. “You can tell your friends that we’re fake dating. We can actually fake date. I can write a contract and everything, just, please, come with me?”

Jihoon has always thought that your kindness made you weaker, but he’s grateful for it now because you smile at him and say, “Yes.”

He hopes his sigh of relief isn’t too obvious. He thinks you might say something else (“You have to pretend to be my date to my friends in return,” or “I was just kidding, you’re insane and I won’t do it,” or “Don’t fall in love with me”) but before you can open your mouth, there’s a knock at the door.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says, voice muffled. “I hate to interrupt, but yn, we have a meeting in like two minutes.”

You glance at the time on your phone and curse, pushing past Jihoon and practically bursting out of the closet. He loses sight of you sprinting toward your office as the door swings shut. Jihoon seriously considers staying here for the rest of the day (possibly the rest of his life), but the door creaks open again to reveal Wonwoo, pinstripe suit and all. He folds his arms and leans against the door.

“We need to talk.”

Jihoon has never been scared of any of his friends, but fear is the only word he can use to describe how he feels now. The final beats to Jihoon’s life sounds a lot like Wonwoo’s footsteps as they echo while he follows the tall man to his own office. This is it. The jig is up before he even shows you to his friends. Well, it was an idiotic plan in the first place and at least he didn’t embarrass you alongside everyone else.

Wonwoo has the decency to wait for the door to shut behind him.

“I can’t believe you,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. “I leave for one weekend, and you tell everyone that you’re dating yn?”

“I know, I—”

“I mean, seriously, we’ve been friends for how long now?” Wonwoo pauses to count on his fingers. “Eight years? Nine? We work together! I know yn better than any of them, and I had to hear from Mingyu that you two are dating?”

Jihoon frowns. Did Wonwoo actually believe him?

“Honestly, I’m offended,” Wonwoo says. “Seriously, how am I not the first person you think of? I’ve been saying for years that you and yn would be perfect together.”

“I didn’t mean to tell them,” Jihoon says. “They were just being annoying about it, so it slipped out.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Right under my nose and I didn’t see it.”

“Well, you are like a point away from being legally blind,” Jihoon says.

Wonwoo glares at him. “You owe me details.”

“Don’t you have a meeting?” Jihoon says.

Wonwoo’s phone rings. He answers in a hushed tone, shooting Jihoon a look that clearly says this isn’t over. Jihoon breathes a sigh of relief as Wonwoo exits, resting his head on his desk. What just happened?

A small part of him had hoped that Wonwoo was going to call him out and this entire mess would be over. But he believed him? Jihoon, who had only ever scoffed at you, despite Wonwoo constantly talking about how well you would work together. Well, he’s clearly having the last laugh now.

Jihoon takes a deep breath and sits up. He still has a job to do. Though his life is clearly falling apart, he should at least make sure Mark from accounting doesn’t mess up his paycheck (again). And he has a contract to write.

Objectively, Jihoon has to admit you look good. It has nothing to do with opinion; it’s a fact (fact #8: you look good in formalwear, though he makes a mental note for an addendum that says that’s the whole point of formalwear). Jihoon spends a normal amount of time looking at you (counting to five seconds before looking away), then ushers you into the backseat of the limo because for some reason you aren’t moving.

“Do I get to know why we’re in a limo or why I had to buy new clothes?” You ask, taking care to make sure none of the flowy garment got stuck in the door.

“I told you I’d cover that,” Jihoon says.

“No, it was kind of bad that I didn’t have anything this nice, and now I have something to wear to the end of the year gala,” you say. “Way to dodge the question though.”

Jihoon grimaces. It’s difficult to judge how people react to finding out about his friends (given that he has “little-to-no” experience introducing anyone to them), and he isn’t entirely certain that you won’t jump out of the car when he tells you the truth. But apparently you can’t sit in silence for long.

“Okay, well, if you won’t tell me, then I’m going to guess,” you say. “Are we going to a wedding?”

“No.”

“A funeral?”

“Why would I wear a tux to a funeral?”

“Hey, I don’t judge,” you say with a shrug. “It looks very good on you, by the way.” Jihoon glances at you but you’re twisting your face into a strange frown as you think, so you don’t notice the way his ears tinge pink at the comment. “Prom?”

“We’re grown adults.”

“Prom needs chaperones,” you say. “Besides, you never went to prom.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t catch my date making out with someone else either, so, it wasn’t that bad of a night for me.”

“Ouch,” you say. “That was low.”

Jihoon remembers that you are technically doing him a favor today (if saving his life counts as a favor), so he says, “Well, there’s no way you could know I was in my pajamas watching anime all day, so, it wasn’t fair. Sorry.” Maybe around you he’ll get used to apologizing. He can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.

Luckily, you accept his peace offering, flashing a smile that is quickly becoming familiar. Your face twists into that strange frown again, and Jihoon determines Fact #9: you are unwaveringly stubborn.

“Oh!” You gasp. “Are you secretly rich?”

Jihoon snorts. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, you picked me up in a limo wearing a tux, after telling me to dress in fancy, expensive clothes,” you say. “Plus you are super secretive about your personal life, and, I don’t know, you give off rich guy vibes. Unless I’m totally wrong?”

“I’m not rich,” Jihoon says. “I mean, I guess I have a decent amount of money saved since I mostly just work and go to the gym and the only thing I really buy is groceries.” Jihoon realizes just how boring he sounds. “I mean, I do go out. Just not often, and I buy… things, anyways, I’m not rich.”

“Sure,” you say. You turn to look out the window, but Jihoon doesn’t miss the laugh poorly disguised as a cough.

Luckily (because Jihoon is absolutely positive you would have continued interrogating him), the limo stops and you don’t have to guess anymore.

“You’re joking,” you say, whipping around in your seat to stare at him.

Jihoon can’t say that he doesn’t enjoy seeing you speechless. You look back and forth between him and the chaos on the street.

“You said you weren’t secretly rich!” You say. “How did you get tickets for a literal red carpet event?” Your face is centimeters away from pressing against the glass, breath quickly making it too foggy to see. “This is the Eternals sequel!”

“You like Marvel?”

“No, actually I think the franchise has a lot of issues.”

Jihoon gasps, but you’re already climbing out of the limo, turning back to face him with a smile. It’s so bright Jihoon forgets why he was mad.

“Come on,” you say. You hold out your hand, and after a moment, Jihoon takes it. He doesn’t let go when he gets out of the car, tightening his fingers around yours, anchoring you to his side.

It’s chaotic, but not nearly as chaotic as he knows it will be soon. Half the press haven’t even arrived yet, and the theater is mostly surrounded by the scatter of crew members and invited guests that aren’t celebrities. Jihoon spots Mingyu first, his tall head standing out in the crowd.

“You ready?” Jihoon asks, turning to look at you. You’re still staring at everything, unable to hide your grin. Maybe he should have warned you, but it’s kind of fun to see you like this. Bright.

Mingyu literally shouts when he sees Jihoon. He watches as Mingyu’s eyes practically lock on to you, and he starts pushing his way towards you, Wonwoo and Seungcheol in tow.

“The tall, overly excited one is Mingyu,” Jihoon whispers. “You know Wonwoo, and—”

“Seungcheol, right?” You glance at Jihoon.

He frowns. “How did you know that?”

“We did go to the same college, you know.” Right. Because this wasn’t complicated enough. Jihoon starts to think that all of this is a mistake, but it’s hardly the first time today, and as Mingyu approaches, all he can do is tighten his hand around yours and commit.

“Jihoon!” Mingyu says as soon as he’s close. His voice carries, more than a few people casting a glance at him. He takes another step, but his foot gets caught on something (knowing Mingyu, it’s nothing), and he’s sent tumbling to the ground. Neither Seungcheol nor Wonwoo attempt to catch him, letting the tall man collapse on the ground.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You ask over Seungcheol’s giggling. Wonwoo helps Mingyu up, but he’s laughing as well, and even Jihoon’s nerves aren’t enough to stop him from breaking a smile.

“I’m used to it,” Mingyu says, walking much slower. His hair took the worst of the fall, now a disheveled mess. Jihoon wonders how long it’ll take for him to notice.

“Mingyu, Seungcheol, this is yn,” Jihoon says. “My real, living, breathing, human date.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Mingyu says, shaking your free hand. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Really?”

“No, this is Jihoon we're talking about, we were lucky to get your name.”

“That sounds more like the man I know,” you say, turning to flash a smile at him before facing Mingyu again. Mingyu glances at your other hand, fingers still intertwined with his, and Jihoon thinks he might actually believe it.

“We’ve met before,” Seungcheol says. “Though there was a lot of alcohol, and I don’t really remember it all that well.”

“Georgia’s Bar, right?” You say. It takes all of Jihoon’s self control not to react. Surely he would have remembered seeing you at the only bar his friends could drag him to during college?

“Probably,” Seungcheol says. “I was getting my MBA, and there were a lot of bars. Very few that we could get Jihoon to go to, though.” He raises his eyebrow. “That’s why we're all a little surprised that someone actually managed to get him out of his apartment and away from his work.”

Jihoon glances between you and Seungcheol as you think about the answer to what is obviously a test. “I don’t think I really got him away from his work.” You turn to Jihoon with what can only be described as a warm, loving smile. You’re really good at this. “But I’m pretty much married to my job too, so it works.”

Seungcheol nods but Jihoon can tell he doesn’t believe fully, at least not yet. “We should go inside before everyone else gets here and this turns into a mess.” He turns to head into the cinema, leaving everyone else to follow. Mingyu and Wonwoo start chatting about Mingyu’s (alleged) drama at work that has something to do with a secretary, the CEO of the company, and his famous but estranged brother. Jihoon doesn’t bother to listen, turning to look at you.

Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “He doesn’t believe us.”

“Not yet,” Jihoon whispers. “Give him time, he’s just particular.” He pauses, then says, “The detail about Georgia’s was good.”

You nod. “It was true.”

“How many times have you met him?”

“Just once,” you say. “You were there too.”

Before Jihoon can ask anything else, Wonwoo calls, “Hey, lovers, are you coming or what?” They’re already inside the cinema, waving for you to catch up or get left behind. You flash Jihoon a determined smile and squeeze his hand, jogging to catch up to the rest of the guys.

Jihoon can’t help but wonder how long your lives have been like this, the roots of two trees that brush against each other but never tangle. Until now.

“Do we have an ETA on the kid?” Wonwoo asks as you settle into the theater seats. You’re doing a good job of acting natural, or at the very least, not gawking at every other detail of the (admittedly stunning) theater.

“You’re not calling him that now, too,” Jihoon says. “He’s a grown adult. Also, he should be here soon.”

“How’s the kid?” Seungcheol asks, folding his arms. Jihoon rolls his eyes with the emphasis on kid. “No nervous breakdowns?”

“He was fine when I called him earlier,” Mingyu says. “As soon as the cameras are on him, he’ll put a smile on.”

Seungcheol grunts but still looks worried. Jihoon would tell him that he cares too much, but he knows Seungcheol will just say that it’s to make up for Jihoon not caring at all, so he doesn’t quite see the point. Besides, it’s Seungkwan; Jihoon is pretty sure all his friends have a soft spot for the younger man, Seungcheol especially.

“He must be here,” Mingyu says when screams erupt from outside. He checks his watch. “A little early, isn’t he? Doesn’t he normally make a grand entrance?”

Jihoon doesn’t miss the way you frown at him, clearly aware that you’re missing something very important. He studies the lights and pretends not to notice your glare.

Most of the commotion is at the entrance, though the bulk of the press aren’t allowed into the theater. Jihoon hears more than he can see, but he knows it’s Seungkwan and the rest of the star-studded cast that are used to being the center of attention. He doesn’t miss you craning your neck to catch a glimpse of why everyone is staring.

Seungkwan’s blonde head appears from the crowd, but he makes the rounds first, checking in with every staff member, shaking hands and taking pictures. Ever the perfect celebrity.

Still, he doesn’t miss how Seungkwan locks in on you, grabbing a tall skinny man and whispering a few words before striding across the theater to where the entire group sat.

“That’s Boo Seungkwan,” you whisper. “And he’s walking over here.”

“I didn’t tell you we’re friends?” Jihoon says.

If looks could kill, Jihoon would be dead, but it’s worth it because even with murder on your mind you (objectively) look good. Maybe it comes from being a divorce lawyer—Jihoon wonders if this is the glare you use when the to-be-divorced couples bicker, then wonders if he’s thinking a little too much about your glare.

The rest of his friends greet Seungkwan as if this is normal, which, technically, it is. Except this is a blockbuster movie premiere and Jihoon is using it to soft launch his (fake) relationship to his world famous best friend. To your credit, you manage to shake his hand and greet him normally.

If Jihoon is being honest with himself, Seungkwan is the only one he really feels guilty lying to. It doesn’t sit right, even though Seungkwan is partially to blame for thinking Jihoon’s happiness is reflected directly onto his love life. It doesn’t help that Seungkwan knows exactly how to guilt him, smiling and greeting you as if this is normal. Jihoon knows him too well, seeing the suspicion behind his friend’s eyes. As if convincing Seungcheol isn’t hard enough.

“So are all of Jihoon’s rich and famous?” You ask after he introduces himself.

“Hey! We have the same student loans,” Wonwoo says.

“I’m not rich,” Seungcheol says.

“Yeah, but your family is, so basically the same thing,” Mingyu says.

“Not the same thing,” Seungcheol says, glaring at Mingyu, who, honestly, should have known better than to bring that up. But because it’s Mingyu, he laughs it off, and soon enough Seungcheol is smiling too.

“Joshua’s pretty broke too,” Minghao says. “He doesn’t make a million dollars for crying in front of a green screen.”

“I told you, my character has grown since then,” Seungkwan says.

“You cry on an actual different planet?” Seungcheol asks.

“I’m convinced none of you actually pay attention to the movies,” Seungkwan says with an overdramatic sigh. “We were on Earth for the entire movie.”

“Wasn’t there a bit where Gemma Chan yelled at someone in space?” Jihoon asks.

“Nerd,” he’s pretty sure he heard you whisper through a fake cough.

“I don’t know if that counts, she wasn’t actually there.” Seungkwan rounds on you. “I don’t suppose you remember?”

“Weren’t you technically in space right at the start?”

Seungkwan cocks his head, thinking back. “Huh, oh yeah. I forgot that.”

Jihoon has about a million questions that he wants to ask you, mostly related to Marvel movies and the fact that you’ve seen them all, even though you clearly don’t like the franchise. He curbs them because he knows you’ll call him a nerd, plus Seungkwan almost looks like he approves.

“Do I have a lot to look forward to today?” You ask. “Someone didn’t tell me where we're going, so I couldn’t look up any critic reviews.”

Seungkwan winces. “I don’t like looking at those.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “I saw at least three headlines talking about the prodigy dropping another masterful work of acting, or whatever they say about people like you.”

“Not a prodigy,” Seungkwan mutters.

“Either way, whatever Seungkwan is in, it’s good,” Seungcheol says, patting Seungkwan on the back. “And he gets paid.”

“That’s the most important part,” Wonwoo says.

Seungkwan looks like he wants to say more, but the director of the film waves him down and he’s forced to say a hasty goodbye, promising to meet with them later.

Jihoon feels your hand squeeze his tight enough to cut off his circulation. He turns to face you in the dim lighting, finding you with a disarmingly sweet smile.

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask, voice so sweet he almost believes you aren’t upset.

“I thought it would be fun if it was a surprise?” Jihoon says.

You lean in close to him, your breath mixing with his, smelling faintly like clementines and something else citrusy. For some godforsaken reason, Jihoon thinks you are about to kiss him. “You’re going to regret this.”

He opens his eyes and you are gone, laughing at some joke Mingyu made about PDA. Jihoon is vaguely aware it’s at his expense, something to do with how red his ears are, but he’s too busy trying to get his heart to at least pretend like it isn’t about to explode out of his chest. Why the hell did he think you were going to kiss him? Why is he disappointed that you didn’t? Jihoon wonders for the thousandth time if it’s not too late to call the whole thing off, but the lights in the theater are dimming and a spotlight is put on the director, who gives an unnecessarily long speech about what a labor of love this movie was to make, and then the movie is starting, and it’s too late to run away.

#seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #svt x reader #svt #seventeen #woozi #lee jihoon x reader #lee Jihoon #woozi angst #woozi fluff #lee jihoon angst #lee jihoon fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen fic #as a matter of fact

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your-divine-ribs · 2 months ago

Text

I’m With the Band Part 28

Words: 1.8k

I’m With the Band Masterlist Main Masterlist

Larry's reaction to me hooking up with Sam had been predictable whilst Van's had been surprising. I'm not sure what Johnny's will be. Out of all the lads he's the one that I'm the most worried about. He's close friends with Sam after all, their Newcastle roots fostering a bond that's stronger and deeper than anything the King's Road crew from back home would understand. I know Bob won't be impressed with my behaviour and it's likely Benji won't be either, but there's just something about the thought of Johnny being disappointed in my actions that makes me feel wholly uncomfortable.

I'd usually try my utmost to avoid difficult situations at all costs, but I know I can't avoid Johnny forever. I'll be stuck on a tiny tour bus with him for weeks on end soon, and the thought of hiding away sneakily in dark corners every time I see him and scurrying off down the narrow corridors to the bunks doesn't seem like a very favourable option.

So I take a deep breath before I step out, running my hands through my dishevelled hair and pulling on the hem of Van's t-shirt to straighten it out, a feeble attempt to make myself look halfway decent. If I'd been pursuing one of the rich boys back home I'd have likely ducked into my room first, slapped on a bit of lippy and fixed my eyeliner at the very least, but I know Johnny can see past all that. He doesn't just take things at face value. He's deeper than that, more insightful... which just adds to my nerves as I walk out on to the decking, see him sitting reclined on the seating with his legs up on the table and his head cocked back, cigarette hanging from his lips. He's wearing a pair of glasses with yellow tinted lenses and I'm not sure if they're proper glasses or sunnies, but either way they look good on him. But then... everything does. He looks gorgeous when he's not even trying... that's part of his appeal.

I plaster on a small, meek smile which threatens to slip as he hears me approach, turning to look right at me.

"Good morning Arabella." His cheerful tone gives nothing away but I think I can see something in his eyes through the coloured lenses, barely perceptible but it's there, a tiny glint of judgement perhaps. I quickly look down, taking the seat next to him, propping my feet on the table, mirroring his pose.

"Sleep well?" He smirks when I don't answer straight away, taking another drag of his cigarette and turning his head to the side to blow the smoke away from me.

"Like a baby."

His smile grows and he nods, looking me right in the eye this time, holding my gaze and even though I want to look away I feel like I shouldn't. It feels like he's got me all worked out and I don't like it at all. My usual confidence is crumbling, I suddenly feel much younger than my 19 years, naive and immature for playing my irresponsible games with people's feelings.

"Are you pissed off with me?" I suddenly blurt, shifting in my seat, catching the hem of Van's t-shirt and stretching it down further over my bare thighs.

Johnny's eyes widen in surprise but his smile doesn't falter. "And why would I be pissed off with you?"

Great. He wants me to spell it out to him. He knows I'm already squirming inside and he thinks I deserve it. There seems like little point in beating around the bush.

"For sleeping with Sam. I presume you've heard all about it. I'm sure everyone has by now."

He looks away then, taking the final pull on his cigarette before leaning forward to crush the butt into the ashtray. "Why would I be pissed off with you for sleeping with Sam? It's a free country isn't it? You can sleep with whoever you like..." He stops and I think he's done, but before I can formulate a response he starts speaking again, and this time I feel my insides clench in discomfort. "The Instagram post though... that's probably not one of your finer moments. Not sure if you really thought that one through, eh love?"

"It wasn't my post," I say, defensive but I know it's a weak excuse. I backtrack hurriedly, my words tumbling out. "I mean I know I took the photos, and I sent them to Portia... she's the one who posted it. I didn't ask her to though. And I've told her to take them down now."

"Portia?"

I nod quickly. "Uh-huh, Portia, my friend from back home. My best friend."

There it is again, clearer that time. Judgement in his eyes. It makes me feel small. He hides it with a smile but not very well.

"Best friend you say?" He picks up his cigarette packet and lighter off the table, stows them away in his jacket pocket. "Is that the same one who hung up on you the other night? The one who you say only wants to know you when there's something in it for her?"

I'm stunned, wondering what Johnny's going on about, but then I remember our kitchen tête a têre with Johnny back at Larry's when I'd been feeling sorry for myself, the fact that when I'd started talking all my problems had just come tumbling out. It had felt good to offload at the time, but I didn't actually expect him to take any of it in.

"She's not that bad, she just doesn't think sometimes," I say, feeling the need to defend my friend even though a little voice in my head is telling me that she doesn't deserve it.

Johnny sighs, lowering his feet off the table and twisting his body so he's fully facing me. He smiles again, warm even though there's a sense of caution in his eyes. "Look, you might tell me it's got nothing to do with me, or tell me to mind my own business... both of which are valid responses." He chuckles. "You can even tell me to fuck right off if ya like."

I laugh too, intrigued even though I'm anticipating another lecture. I can't imagine it being quite like Larry's though.

"The thing is, I've been in the music industry for years and you meet so many different people. People from all walks of life, people from different backgrounds, people with different intentions. Some are in it for the love of the music and some are in it for the love of something else..." he grins and rubs his fingers together in a gesture that can only mean one thing... cold hard cash. I wonder where this is going, but I'm hanging on his every word nevertheless. "What I'm trying to say is, you get to be a very good judge of character after a while. You get to know who the genuine people are, the people you can trust, the ones who will always have your back... and likewise you also get to find out those who should be avoided, or at least... handled carefully. They might act like your friends, but they're not really, it's all superficial."

He stops then, and I don't know how to react. I wonder what category he'd pigeon-hole me into, but I know that's not what he's referring to now. He's talking about Portia and the friends that I've left behind in London. I know deep down there's some truth in his words even though he's never even met them, and it's a bitter pill to swallow. They're all I've really got apart from my absent parents. I automatically prickle in defence.

"Are you saying my friends are fake? That they don't give a shit about me? That's bullshit! You don't even know them!"

My voice sounds whiny to my ears and I hate it, consciously biting down on a sullen pout.

"Which is exactly why I said you can tell me to mind my own business!" Johnny quickly says. "I'm not about to start preaching about who you should and shouldn't be friends with... that's up to you. I'm just saying it's wise to be careful, that's all." He leans towards me, cocking his head to one side. "But what I can tell you for a fact though is that Sam's a good guy... one of the best. And I think he actually really likes you."

I scoff loudly to hide the unwelcome guilt that keeps surfacing despite my hardest efforts to curb it. "Correction... he fucking hates me now!"

He laughs again, amusement dancing in his eyes behind the tinted glass. "I hardly think so!"

"You didn't hear him this morning," I disagree. "He was mad... really mad. You should have heard him. He was bloody fuming."

"Well... ya know why that is don't ya?" He doesn't wait for a reply, continuing as I listen in, full of curiosity. "Just broken up with his long term girlfriend hasn't he? Pressures of fame and being on the road an' all that. He's been saying to me how he's off girls for a bit, how he doesn't want the complication. And it's not Sam's style to fuck about with one night stands either. "That's it mate... I'm done... no more lasses for me... I'm being serious!"" He lays the Geordie accent on even thicker, an admirable impression of Sam which has me giggling. "That's exactly what he said! And then of course you came along, smiling that sweet little smile of yours, swaying those goddamn hips..."

His voice drops low at the last line and my breath catches as he leans even closer still. I'm wondering whether I'm imagining the way the warmth in his eyes takes on a different kind of heat, a blush surfacing as an uncharacteristic coyness takes over me. "I hardly think so... it's not like I'm anything special."

What am I saying? I'm usually bigging myself up, flirting shamelessly to procure what I want. For some reason though all of a sudden Johnny's got me in a spin, a bewildering feeling which just increases as he reaches a hand forward to where my own hands are balled in my lap, separating them and snaking his fingers through mine until our hands are entwined.

"I beg to differ love," he tells me, all flirtation and mischief. "You know, I think you were wrong when you said that trouble seems to find you... I think maybe you're the one who goes looking for it."

He starts to get to his feet, urging me up on to mine as he does, starting to tug me back towards the suite. "C'mon love, come with me."

"Where are we going?" I ask, letting him tow me along.

He looks back at me over his shoulder, giving a little shrug like he's undecided, even though the smile on his lips tells me he already has well thought out plans.

"Thought maybe we'd go and find some trouble together, what d'ya say?"

#im with the band #johnny bond fanfic #johnny bond x reader #johnny bond #fanfic #vanfic

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infisonicosm-moved · 2 years ago

Note

🚨 INCOMING: SOFT JOSH THOUGHT 🚨

Hi mama Shelly! Since you’re feeling a bit out of it emotionally, I wanted to send you this little thought that’s been floating around in my head.

You’re dating Josh, and he’s a bit anxious about making your relationship public, so it causes some anxiety on your end. One night out with the guys, you’re sitting at the table when a fan approaches and is starstruck, asking everyone for a group photo and you offer to take it. The fan doesn’t question who you are until after the photo is taken and you’re asking if they’re good photos. Jake, being the goof that he is, butts in and says “oh she’s our personal photographer”, when that’s obviously not the case, and everyone laughs it off, before the fan leaves and you all go back to your night. This however, leaves you feeling a bit miffed and josh as well, but you don’t really notice until he excuses himself to go get another drink and one for you, when he gets approached by the same fan. You watch the interaction while Jake and Sam try to engage you in conversation, noticing that it bothers you. When Josh comes back, Sam instigates and asks him what she wanted. He flippantly replies saying that she asked if she could buy him a drink and possibly get his number. He laughs this off, saying he politely rejected her before taking a sip of his drink. At this point you’re annoyed, and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Instead of going to the restroom, you step outside and soon, you find that Josh has followed you.

He quietly asks if you’re okay, noticing your prickly demeanor. “I know you’re not fine, please talk to me.” You just sigh and rub your forehead, saying that if he can’t even disclose that he’s in a relationship to a random fan then why are you even doing this? His face falls and he quickly holds you in a tight embrace, rubbing your back soothingly. Pulling away, he stares deep into your eyes, saying that he’s so happy to have you, but is scared of putting you in the limelight and doesn’t want his relationship to be rendered to public scrutiny because he values what you two have between each other. You nod, resigned, before he purses his lips and acknowledges that he has an idea. Telling you to stay out there, he quickly leaves and returns with Jake.

“Since this dumbass made that comment about you, the tables are turning. Jake, make sure to take some good fucking pictures of me and my girl, because she looks stunning and I want to show her off!”

This leads to you two taking some very sweet photos together, before josh takes some of his own of just you. Unbeknownst to you, about an hour later your phone is blowing up, because josh had posted not only the photos of you both on his main Instagram account, with the caption “my darling girl and I spending a night out on the town.” He also the solo photos of you on his story, with similar sappy captions like “my most beautiful girl,” and “with something so gorgeous, how can I not want to show her off?” Pretty much hard-launching your relationship to the public 🥺

This is all I’m gonna think about now.

You’re an Angel thank you so much for this 🤍

#tea time with shelly #greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf

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qnewsau · 5 months ago

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Orville Peck recalls his first DMs with Kylie Minogue

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/__trashed-16/

Orville Peck recalls his first DMs with Kylie Minogue

Out country star Orville Peck has opened up about his online friendship with Kylie Minogue and said their duet was a long time coming.

The US singer and Kylie – with producer Diplo – debuted the track Midnight Ride at a Pride event last month.

It’s from the second part of Orville’s duets album, titled Stampede, out next month.

“Kylie followed me on Instagram like two or three years ago,” Orville told Australia’s Today show.

“I grew up in South Africa and we take Kylie Minogue very seriously, almost as seriously as Australians, I think.

“We used to just DM a little bit here and there because I was always really nervous.

“When I knew I was doing this duets album, she was the first person she was the first person that came to mind for me to ask and she said yes. This song’s been in the works for almost two years.”

Half of the album, an EP titled Stampede Vol 1 came out in May, and featured duets with Willie Nelson, Elton John, Noah Cyrus, and others.

Willie Nelson asked Orville Peck for gay cowboy duet

Orville and Willie duet on a cover of the 1981 song Cowboys Are Frequently, Secretly Fond of Each Other.

“Willie is 91 and he’s like cooler than ever. I had heard that he was a fan of mine, which was mind-blowing to me,” Orville told Today.

“We played a festival together and he invited me on his tour bus. It was the craziest day of my life.

“He told me he’d heard that I cover that song, the gay cowboy song. Willie told me that we should redo it as a duet because the message of the song is more important now than ever.

“He’s cooler than you could ever imagine and I imagined him pretty cool to begin with.

Orville added, “I grew up loving country music my whole life. But I never saw anyone like myself really making country in the mainstream from sort of a gay man’s perspective,” Orville said.

“I grew up loving like David Bowie and, you know, Elton John and these figures that combined authentic songwriting with theatricality. But there’s no like David Bowie of country.

“There was no one doing this kind of crossroads. And so that’s kind of where my idea for everything came from.”

Orville Peck’s Stampede album is out on August 2.

More on the man behind the mask:

Country hunk Orville Peck rides bareback in nude photoshoot

Watch Kylie Minogue and Orville drop their new duet at Pride

Orville Peck’s 2014 full-frontal nudes for Butt Magazine

Watch Orville Peck and Willie Nelson duet on cowboy love song

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

#pop music

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ohsweetsweetie · 5 years ago

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Me @ your chat noir: "Stop! Stop! I'm already gay!!"

😂 I’m just glad everyone likes him!

#instagram is blowing up about his butt #it's very funny #jackedupjack

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echoalyssa · 3 years ago

Text

Through His Window | Marcus Baker

Authors Note: Marcus is 18 in this and will be for every time that I write for him! Plus look at the boy, as if he’s 15 😒 I love this boy with all my heart, and could not write about anyone younger than 18 ever. Oral sex! Female receiving.

Y’all get yourself a man (or a woman) like this. I never KNEW until i experienced it. Don’t settle for less!

It’s late at night when you scurry across the street and into the Bakers’ yard. Normally it was your boyfriend climbing through your window, but today, or rather tonight, you decided that you wanted to switch it up.

You reach for the lowest branch of the tree below Marcus’ window, hauling yourself up and wedging your foot into the crevice before reaching for the next branch.

Its really not the most comfortable, stray leaves and twigs hit you in the face and if you weren't wearing leggings you'd certainly have some very scratched up legs.

Thank god it wasn’t a fern tree, that would be utter hell. How Marcus climbed up so gracefully was beyond you.

You finally reach his windowsill and with a might haul, you manage to pull yourself up. You wiggle so that a butt cheek and a thigh rests on the ledge, your other leg still on the tree branch and then you push the window up.

Luckily he hasn’t locked it, otherwise this whole thing would be ruined. Plus, stairs were boring.

You focus more on climbing into the room safely than looking for him. And when you’re seated on the floor, gasping slightly because it sure was a workout, you look up.

Marcus is standing by his dresser just staring at you, looking downright shocked. He blinks, his jaw opening and closing like a fish. His eyebrows rise and then fall again.

“Hey baby!” You say with a giggle.

He blinks another confused blink and then his face lights up. Your boyfriend crosses the room to you and then hauls you up so he can kiss you.

You melt into him, the ever so present fact that the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces looming over you.

“What are you doing here?” He asks with a chuckle of disbelief after he’s pulled away.

You stroke your jaw and grab your crotch, like teenage boys did for their instagram pics. “I’m Marcus Baker. I crawl through windows at night.”

He eyes you, and then simultaneously the two of you break into laughter.

Your fingers find the hem of his tshirt and you tug lightly, before backing away from him to slide off your shirt (one of his old ones, though it unfortunately didn’t smell like him) leaving you in those black nike running shorts that you loved.

He obliges, not because he enjoys being shirtless but because he likes you in his clothes. Or nothing at all. He wasn’t picky.

You slip it over your head and then dart for his bed, you fling yourself onto the mattress and your body bounces back up after impact.

He darts after you, jumping on top of you and pinning you to the mattress. His fingers go to your sides and he begins to tickle you, knowing all the right places.

You squirm, all giggly and thrashing. You can feel the lack of air and you smack at his shoulders playfully, trying to escape his wrath.

He pulls back, knowing you need to breathe. “Give me one good reason as to why I should stop.”

You gasp, and gasp again, sucking that precious air back into your lungs. “I-I-“ You suck in more air, a stray giggle following. “I’m horny!”

At that his eyebrows raise and he peers down at you. “Horny eh?”

You nod curtly and then for extra effect add a little army salute.

“I’ve got a spectacular solution for that problem then miss. Will you allow me to assist you?”

“Yessir!”

He rolls over to the right of his bed so that he’s no longer on top of you and then pats the space between the sides of his head.

You give him a blank look.

“Ride my face babe!”

You feel your eyes blow out wide. Oh. OH. “Isn’t that dangerous? What if you can’t breathe?”

“Death by thick thighs, I would not complain!”

“No death Mar!” You exclaim.

He pats the mattress again. “Bless me with the glorious juices of your body.”

This kid. This kid would be the end of you.

Reluctantly you tug the shorts off, and because of the built in underwear you didn’t need to wear underwear. You straddle his chest first and look down at him.

“Are you sure?”

You knew he loved eating you out, loved cleaning you up and he loved giving. But you’d never sat ON his face before.

Slowly you scoot up, seeing his face disappear between your thighs. Though you hover over his face, reluctant to put too much weight on him.

His arms wrap around your thighs from the back, his palms resting on your hips, and then abruptly he pulls you down onto him.

His lips land on your clit and you gasp, trying to rocket back up but he holds you there, his grip firm but not tight.

He drags his tongue through your lips and you whimper. It’s always so good when he does this, but the fact that you’re on his face is ridiculously enticing even if you’re still worried. His tongue then flicks upward and- he catches your clit and your hand shoots downwards, wrapping in his hair.

“Oh god-“

He groans from underneath you and you know it’s because he loves the way you taste. The vibration of the groan rockets through you and your legs shake.

His tongue picks a steady rhythm on your clit and you find your hips rolling forward ever so slightly.

“Is that o-okay?” You gasp out, worried you’ll hurt him.

He lets out a ragged moan in response and tugs you further into him.

Something about this angle, about this position, it was stirring a fire in your belly already. If only there was a mirror, if you ever did this again (and you had a feeling you would) you’d definitely be adding a mirror to the equation.

Your body is succumbing to him, you fall forward, grabbing the headboard for support, fisting his hair.

His tongue stays steady and when he needs a slight break for air he’ll pull you off just slightly before tugging you back onto his face.

Your eyes are glued to his face between your thighs, the source of all the pleasure coursing through your body. At the way just his eyes and forehead are visible below you. His gaze flickers to you occasionally, watching your reactions every time he changes the angle and alters the pressure.

He drags his tongue down to your opening, plays with you there for a bit and then returns full force to your clit.

It’s enough to make you keen out his name.

“M-mar-marcus b-babe p-please” You beg.

The sound of your voice, racked with your impending orgasm and the taste of you does him in and his tongue speeds up, his lips curl around your clit, he sucks on it, like a cherry.

“Oh I-“

Your legs are shaking and you knew that if you wanted to pull off of him you wouldn’t be able to. You hoped he was doing okay on oxygen down there.

It hits you like a truck. Like the first time you vape but have no idea what it’s like. But harder. Your entire body seizes up and then… heaven. Euphoric bliss.

You release onto his face, into his mouth and he laps it all up, urging you through your orgasm and then further. He’s obsessed. His arms keep you pressed onto him.

Your hips jerk, reaching over sensitivity but he doesn’t stop. Instead Marcus keeps going, showing your body how it’s down. What a real orgasm is. You’re seizing above him and the pleasure just won’t stop.

Eventually his pace slows and he slowly pulls off. He helps you lay down next to him, where your entire body is shaking, especially your legs. Who knew post orgasm shakes were really a thing?

He grins at you, mouth and chin glistening with your liquids and then as you watch him, he uses a finger to collect and literally cleans himself.

It’s about one of the sexiest things ever and you don’t think you’ll ever recover from this. Not that that would be such a bad thing.

#marcus baker #ginny and georgia #netflix #marcus baker imagine #marcus #baker #marcus baker x reader #ginny #georgia #marcus baker smut

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dejwritesarchived · 3 years ago

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✧˖*°࿐ synopsis + warnings — nash dealing with the consequences to his own actions ( she/her pronouns, reader is black, angst, nash crying and throwing up, mentions of cheating, reader living their best life, kagami mentioned )

✧˖*°࿐ tags — @hon3ybee-3 @seyawrld @po3ticb3auty @ladyblack15 @simpingforle0valdez0414 @misss-chrisss

NASH LET OUT THE MOST DRAMATIC SIGH AS HE WAS IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT OF HIS SPORTS CAR. His eyes peered at the social media post that a gossip website posted of his now ex-girlfriend (Y/N) out enjoying herself. It's been two weeks since they broke up and the woman complete did a 180 on him. She was spotted courtside looking as beautiful as ever at some basketball games (that wasn't his), she was doing more club hostings than usual, and she damn sure was getting posted more on gossip websites now. Nash wasn't really phased with her behavior, he could have another woman on his arm in a blink of an eye. But it was one particular post that had the baller seeing red.

He wasn't really the type to lurk. He was a man of standards, he would never stoop that low. But here he was on (Y/N) Instagram page. Just moments after seeing a post of her out with Kagami, he was so quick to go on her page to see if she had been posting him. Nash knew that if Jason and his friends saw the desperation on Nash's face at the moment, they would make him the butt of the jokes. He let out a sigh as he pushed his car door open to walk towards the club.

The neon lights shined down on the people in the club while Lil Baby blasted through the speakers. Bottle girls pushed their way towards sections to give out bottles and people danced recklessly on the dance floor. Nash spotted his friends in one of the biggest sections and he made his way towards them. When he entered the section, an eruption of cheers and welcomes rung in his ears as they would shove glasses of shots in his face. Exclaiming that he had a lot of drinking to do to get him through the evening.

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Nash questioned as he looked at them, he took the shot of Hennesy letting the brown liquor burn at his throat.

Jason Silver only smirked at him, his fingertips toying with the woman on his lap hem of the short dress she wore. "Your girl is here also," His head motions to the section just a couple feet away from them.

Nash kissed his teeth. "I don't care."

"Yeah, you fuckin' do. We not going to pretend I didn't catch you lurking on her page two days ago," Jason snickered.

"Oh that's just pathetic," Nick added.

"You were just checking to see if that asshole Kagami got a taste huh?" Jason asked. His eyebrows raised at his friend.

"Oh shut the hell up," Nash uttered before he's taking a bottle and took a sip from it.

But the thing is the thought of (Y/N) giving herself to Kagami made his blood boil. He could have cared less if it was another guy, but it was Kagami. It felt like such a low blow to the gut. However, Nash had to remember that it was him that stepped out of their relationship. He was the one that was unfaithful. So was it really his right to be a pouty jealous baby at the moment?

"You should go say something to her," Nick commented as he was refilling his shot glass.

"Nah, I'm not wasting my time with that," Nash uttered over the overbearing music that was playing.

"What if we said Kagami is with her right now," Jason said and Nash's head never shot up so quickly as his light-colored eyes darted over to the section.

His ears turned a shade of red in embarrassment when he saw that Kagami was nowhere to be found. While his friends laughed at what he did, he took a large gulp of the intoxicating alcohol before pushing himself out of his seat.

"Oh shit! He's actually going to do it!"

Nash pushed his way through the crowd, declining dances from women, and fans wanting autographs. He had to talk to her. When he got to the section, her friends were practically glaring at him. It was as if a record stopped to silently judge that one character in a tv show whose always saying stupid punchlines. Her best friend is the first to speak, rolling her eyes, and bating her long mink eyelashes at the man. "If we weren't in public right now, I would have beat your ass. Please leave." Her friend spat at him.

"This doesn't involve you," Nash responded back just as harshly.

"Just chill, both of you. I'm going to go talk to him," (Y/N) says as she looked at her friends. "I told y'all it was bound to happen eventually, so I'll be back and after this. We can go to that afterparty."

"Just text me if you need me, I'm wearing heels I can use as a weapon." Her friend says as she gave Nash a glare.

He stepped aside so (Y/N) could lead the way for them to talk. For a quick second, Nash even placed his large hand on her lower back, which she was quick to push his hand away as they stood closer to the back of the club. The music vibrated off the walls, but she knew it was best for the music to overpower the possible heated words to tumble out the two of their mouths.

"Fuckin' Kagami really?" Nash sneered at (Y/N).

The woman is rolling her eyes at him instantly. Her back was against the wall as Nash practically cornered her. His hand placed near her head and the two were standing quite close just to hear each other out. "Don't start with this nonsense Nash. Do I need to remember you always told me to not worry about what these gossip pages have to say? What you would always say?" She argued back.

Just waiting for the infamous comment he would tell her when she argued about him being seen with another woman.

Nash grew quiet as she looked at him with such an intense glare. "Or will me bringing that up hurt your feelings? I've spent months of you telling me that it's just gossip when it came to you making me look like a damn idiot in this city. Here you have the fucking audacity to question Kagami and me."

"But through all the damn people, why him? You did that shit to get under my skin. You know the history we have and you out being seen with him, it's not a good look for me."

"Nash, we're not together anymore. At least I had the decency to wait until after the relationship was done and over with." She argued. She let out a sigh as she tugged down the black dress she wore, she knew this talk wasn't going anywhere. She moved out of his way to go join her friends.

But before she was leaving Nash to officially be out of her life, she turned to look at him. "After all it's just gossip babe." She reminded him of his own words before disappearing into the crowd.

(Y/N) left Nash all alone, fist clutched tightly, and it felt like somebody sat on his heart. She was officially done with him. The gossip pages were going to love that.

#nash gold x reader #nash gold jr x reader #nash gold jr x black reader #knb x reader #knb x black reader #black reader #char: nash gold jr #imagine: knb #y'all wanted part 2? here you go #nash crying and throwing up bc y/n glowed up >>>>

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h2bakugou · 3 years ago

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『 𝗵𝟮𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 』 ✦ 𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘂 ; 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗗𝗡𝗜

𝐈𝐕. 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗱 ✦ 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀-𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ; between you and izuku’s relationship, sex was always something to touch on later, both literally and figuratively. so when you go to your closest guy friends seeking advice on how to please your boyfriend, they give you much more of hands on lesson than you had expected.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; katsuki bakugou, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; 18+, smut, swearing, porn with plot/little plot, cheating, dub-con, virgin!reader, virginity stealing, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, cum play, spit play, spanking, fingering, bukkake, orgy, split roasting, biting, mentions of porn, partial revenge sex, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, degradation, masturbation, double penetration, recording

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ; this came to me on a whim, i really needed to just get this out of my head. i’ve been in a weird headspace and this prompt just kinda came up and stuck with me. apologies for any spelling/writing errors, this piece was not proofread!!

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 6.7k

✦ 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁 ✦

Wanting to be the perfect girlfriend for your ever so lovely boyfriend was becoming more of a challenge. Izuku was an angel, and heaven-sent. He was as sweet as he could be. And you loved him for all that he did for you.

Helping you study for your college classes, taking you on cute picnic dates to watch the sunset.

You were lucky to have a guy like him. But having a perfect guy like him meant you could also lose him. And you didn’t want that at all.

The two of you had never dabbled much into sex and all of its activities. There was the time you’d grinded against his lap, or made out while he jerked off under you, but you’d never done anything with him, just like he’d never done anything with you.

You were both nervous, but you wanted your first time together to be something special. Something you could both cherish. You wanted it to be perfect for him.

Since porn was the last place you wanted to take advice from, you swallowed your nerves and bit the bullet, asking your best group of guy friends if you could hang out at their flat for a bit.

And of course, in the group chat, you were all in together, they welcomed you over with open arms.

You settled on their couch instantly recognizing the neutral grey walls as your second home when you weren’t pacing around your own flat.

“So what’s up girlie?” Kaminari asks, already laying his head in your lap like usual.

“I have a really big favor to ask you all.” You stare worryingly at the floor, just past Kaminari’s head.

“What is it? You know we’re here to help.” Kirishima chimes in, honestly expecting some bad news.

“Don’t tell me that shithead Deku’s causing problems.” Bakugou grunts from his spot beside you on the couch.

“No, no. It does have to deal with Deku, but er...” You pause, swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat before spitting it out.

“We keep having these sexual moments, and I just wanna please him but I don’t know where to start so I thought I would ask you guys what feels good for men.” You suddenly feel as if the world has caved in, your frame much smaller than anyone else’s in the room.

As if a lightbulb had flicked on simultaneously in the male’s heads, they all gathered around you.

“Well, I know for a start, I like it when they look at me when they blow me. Makes me feel in control.” Kaminari grins.

“Yeah it’s the only time you’re in control.” Sero jokes. Kaminari slaps the ravenette and rolls off of your lap, sitting up beside you.

“So you want to have sex with Izuku finally?” Kirishima asks. You nod sheepishly, still embarrassed to be so open about your sex life, or lack of one, with some of your best friends.

“Have you ever had sex before?” Bakugou asks bluntly. Your silence speaks volumes as the four men around you all seem to get the same idea yet again.

“We can give you some tips!” Kirishima’s words aren’t supposed to have a double meaning, but in a matter of seconds, Bakugou’s standing right in front of you, gazing down at you with lust-filled eyes.

“Take my belt off.” He speaks clearly.

“W-wait you guys are just supposed to teach me-”

“We are. Hands-on teaching seems to show the most progress does it not?” Kaminari butts in, his hands creeping up on your sides, dipping under your arms to undo the buttons on your blouse.

“We’re gonna help you understand what feels good for us! We can teach you better this way, so pay close attention.” Sero stood behind Bakugou, slinging his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder.

“If this is gonna help, I guess it won’t be too bad.” You mumble, your timid hands reaching for Bakugou’s belt.

“Look at me.” Bakugou’s voice ushers for your gaze. Your eyes travel up his clothed chest to his crimson eyes.

“Good girl.” Bakugou grinned, watching as your eyes widened.

“Bet stupid Deku doesn’t praise you.” Bakugou huffs. Your hands eventually undo his belt and now you stare at his abdomen. Bakugou tugs his shirt off over his head, revealing his toned chest.

You’re in awe.

“Izuku doesn’t look like that.” You think out loud, figuratively drooling over your best friend. Bakugou feels a strong sense of pride as he glances at Kaminari, who’s finally able to tug your shirt off and reveal those pretty tits he’s beat his dick to at night.

Photos of you in swimsuits, or teasing clips you’d posted to your instagram stories late at night in a bra or some sort of revealing top while you hung out with your girlfriends, Denki kept them all in a hidden folder and let out embarrassing moans when his hand jerked his cock at them.

“So pretty.” Kaminari mumbles, biting your shoulder as he unclamps your bra, finally seeing them in person, unobscured.

“Deku’s so fucking lucky.” Kaminari hisses, grabbing them roughly, kneading them in his hands harshly.

You whine, whether in pain or pleasure is unsure, the feeling of Kaminari’s hands kneading your tits like their just dough is making your cunt throb. And it suddenly feels so much hotter in the room when your eyes widen at the size of Kaminari’s bulge as you glance over at him.

“Does he touch you like this?” Kaminari whispers, his fingers twisting your nipples, tugging them between his thumb and forefinger as the rest of his hand continues to cup and massage your breasts.

“N-No. He’s never touched me.” You whine, your head hanging on your shoulders, embarrassed to be so turned on by this. This was wrong-

“Get my cock out. It’s time for you to learn how to suck someone off.” Bakugou places his hand on the back of your head and yanks your hair back, forcing you to look at him.

“Go on, or you won’t like when I do it myself. I’ll use your throat like a fleshlight.” Bakugou’s voice drops, watching as your hands find their way back to his pants.

“How come he gets to get blown first?” Kirishima mumbled to Sero, the pair gradually undoing their own pants, slowly palming over their clothed erections.

“Because I hate Deku the most.” Bakugou grunts.

“Oh fuck.” You curse, staring at Bakugou’s cock in awe.

“I’ve never seen one in person before...” You babble, completely shocked by the pure length and girth of the cock that’s twitching in front of you. Bright pink cockhead, with a prominent vein on the underside, he’s fucking huge. And for a second you wonder if you can even open your mouth wide enough to take even the head of him in your mouth.

But you get your answer soon enough.

“So innocent.” Sero’s ashamedly turned on by your innocence. The way you stared at Bakugou’s cock like it was the only thing in the room was enough to make him excited. He wanted to steal every moment from you. He wanted to ruin you.

“Open your mouth. Tongue out.” Bakugou instructs. You do as you say and you can see Bakugou visibly tense. His shoulders relax as he grips the base of his cock and slaps the head of it on your tongue.

“Rule number one. No teeth. Ever.” Bakugou makes this rule very evident as he taps his dick against your tongue.

“If it’s too much, tap me three times.” Bakugou says in a slightly gentler tone, almost as if he knew you were going to need to tap out.

“Well, it’s not gonna suck itself.” Bakugou huffs, smirking down at you. You try to think straight but nothing’s working. You search in the dirtiest parts of your brain, trying to remember all the magazines you’d seen telling you how to suck a guy to make him cum, but as you took Bakugou’s cock into your mouth, just past the tip, your jaw was already starting to ache.

Kaminari’s hands had traveled down to your shorts, teasing your bare skin as he slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

“Holy fuck.” Bakugou murmured, glancing back at Kirishima and Sero, who had now whipped their cocks out, stroking them while their pants sat pooled around their ankles.

“Is she good?” Sero asks, glancing over Bakugou to look down at you. You were clearly struggling, your hands resting in your lap awkwardly, not sure of where or what to do with them.

“Here, get on your knees down here.” Bakugou pulls his cock from your past your lips with a small ‘pop’ sound, his strong arms tugging you down off the couch, leaving Kaminari alone up there.

He quickly hops down too, sitting down behind you, taking the chance to play with your tits some more, biting and kissing your neck and shoulder.

Sero and Kirishima stand on opposite sides, now trapping you between all four males, one on each side of you.

You gaze at Sero’s cock. It was long, and lean, a significant curve set his apart from Bakugou’s. It was a bit thinner but still looked like it could do some serious damage.

Kirishima, on the other hand, seemed to outweigh them both. His cock was fat and hung along with the biggest balls you’ve ever seen-note you’ve seen three pairs so far.

It was thick, long, and veiny. And you were scared. If you could barely fit Bakugou’s in your mouth, you knew for a fact his wouldn’t fit at all.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t ‘cha?” Kirishima teased as your hands daintily reached up to stroke Sero and Kirishima’s cocks. Something you’d seen in a porno once, where a girl was in a position similar to yours.

“Where’d you learn that one?” Kaminari teases, licking your shoulder.

“P-porn.” You stutter out.

“Oh.” Sero laughs.

“What a dirty girl you are.” Kirishima’s hips thrust forward, allowing your hand to complete the first stroke from the tip to the base.

You lean forward and take Bakugou’s cock back into your mouth, staring up at him as he grunts. His hands find their way to your hair, forcing you to take his length.

So much for going in slow and easy.

You’re sure you see the heavens for a moment. Your vision blurs with tears as Bakugou’s cock hits the back of your throat. Your hands stop moving on Sero and Kirishima’s cocks as you take a moment to adjust.

You mewl, your voice reverberating against Bakugou’s cock, the vibrations sending chills down his spine. He takes control, using your mouth as his own personal fucktoy.

And you were completely helpless. Besides the tears on your lashes and the ache in your jaw, your hands returned to jerking off the men beside you, your eyes still set on staring up at Bakugou as he smirked pridefully at you.

And then you felt it. Kaminari’s hands had slid down into your panties, his fingers just barely ghosted over your clit before you forced yourself down to the base of Bakugou’s cock, your hips jerking from the sensation alone.

“Woah there.” Kaminari pulled his hands out, giggling.

“Someone’s never felt that before.” He teases. You tap Bakugou’s leg three times and he pulls out, almost disappointed.

“Are you alright?”

“Does it feel good to be touched down there?” You ask your hands reaching to remove your shorts.

“I think you’re talking to the wrong crowd for that.” Kirishima jokes.

“Dumbass. Of course, it feels good. Don’t tell me you’ve never-”

“No! No! I’ve tried I could just never, make myself...”

“Oh my god.” Kirishima and Sero give each other an almost pitiful stare.

“And Deku’s never pushed sex so I always thought something was wrong with me. What if I can’t cum? How can I please him if I can’t-”

“Hey. Why don’t we help you out? Clearly touching you there evoked some sort of reaction, why don’t you relax and let me see if I can work something out of you.” Kaminari offers, rubbing your sides. You nod shyly.

Spreading your legs similarly, your movements are slow and timid as if you're scared to make a wrong move. Kaminari glances up to the others as they quickly picked up, Bakugou kneeling down to help remove your shorts and panties, which had a small damp spot, one Bakugou didn’t miss.

“You’re already soaking your panties. You’re enjoying this.” Bakugou retorted, staring in awe of your glistening cunt, one his childhood best friend had claimed before him.

It ate away at Bakugou daily. Seeing the two of you walk to classes together, or whenever you’d post snaps of you laying on his chest after he fell asleep during a movie night.

Or the way he’d call you baby in front of all your friends. It pissed Bakugou off. He was in love with you.

But oh was Bakugou going to take this chance by its reigns. He was going to show you exactly what you were missing being with that stupid nerd.

And even more so. Bakugou was going to take your virginity away from you, and away from the guy who you clearly thought was going to.

“Damn Deku really is lucky.” Sero whispered, his eyes locked tight onto your dripping cunt. It was beautiful. Sero had his fair share of one-night stands, and hookups, but he’d never seen one that looked like yours. God, it was captivating. He wanted to feel your tight, plush walls hugging his cock as he fucked into you from behind.

And then there was Kirishima, who stared in awe as well. His eyes wandered your naked body and wondered if you were truly the same girl going out with Deku.

Part of you being in a standing relationship was so enticing. Kirishima was nothing short of respectful, but wanting to destroy any sort of expectations you had for your first time with Deku sent his brain and cock into overdrive.

And there you were, legs sprawled out, cunt dripping your essence onto the soft carpeted floors, your back pressed into Denki's chest as his fingers reached down and spread your pussy apart.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt like you were going to implode. Your senses were heightened, and the slightest touch between your thighs made you squirm. Denki chuckled as the other males salivated over you, picking their jaws off the floor was the next step.

"Go on, why don't you find her clit." Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest with an evil grin.

"Oh shut the fuck up." Kaminari's fingers moved from the lips of your cunt to the hardened bud, and with one tiny little touch, you let out an embarrassing whine. Denki grinned as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion over your clit, watching how you quickly clamped your legs together.

"Awe no, let them see just how good I am with my fingers." Kaminari cooed in your ear, using one hand to pry your legs back open, Sero bending down and grabbing the other, forcing them apart. You whined in pleasure as his fingers worked wonders against your clit, your back arching against his chest.

"Denki!" You cried out, feeling something building up inside of you. Kaminari grinned but Bakugou wasn't having it.

"Oi, enough. I wanna cum down her throat." Bakugou grunted, yanking you up to your feet from your forearm.

"Sit on his face and suck my cock, slut." Bakugou spat, your eyes widening. You nodded, glancing back at Kaminari who was already moving for you to do so. You were nervous, feeling awful for sitting on his face, but you didn't regret a thing when you felt Kaminari's tongue swipe through your folds.

The cold steel of his tongue piercing made you shiver as his tongue flicked across your clit making you whine.

"'m ready." You choked out, glancing at Bakugou.

"Us first." Sero stepped in, gripping the base of his cock, tapping it against your lips, similarly to how Bakugou had done. Kirishima stepped up and nudged his cockhead against Sero's, the two unphased by it.

"I-I can't take both-"

"So take turns." Bakugou said bluntly. You glanced up at Sero and Kirishima, worryingly trying to take Kirishima's cock into your mouth first. You made it just barely past the tip of his fat cock, before you realized your attempt was futile. You brought a hand up to help, stroking the base of his cock while your mouth worked past the tip. Your free hand returned to jerk Sero off, your ego racing as you heard his own grunts of pleasure.

"She's a quick learner." Kirishima grins, his hand resting on your head as he guides you gently to take more of his cock into your mouth. Kirishima is saddened when you stop and switch to try and do the same for Sero.

Halfway through the transition, Kaminari's tongue prods through your entrance, making you stop. Your shoulders tense up and you freeze, quickly hunching over, grinding your cunt against Kaminari's mouth, the tips of his nose brushing against your clit.

"Fuck!" You cry, feeling yourself lose control. Your mind turns white for a moment, and all the pleasure begins to hurt as you want to leap off of Kaminari's tongue. But his strong arms wrapped around your thighs holding you in place stop you from doing so.

"It-it hurts! Please." You pant, your lips parted as you mewl against his face.

"He fucking did it. He made her cum." Sero groaned. Your head shot up, staring at the ravenette.

"T-that was-"

"A female orgasm? Yeah. Felt weird and tingly, and when he kept going it hurt. Fun huh." Sero grins.

"Dude, let her explain it." Kirishima sighs.

"It felt good. Really good. I've never felt anything like that before." You go to continue your job of blowing Sero, but he stops you.

"Let's take this to Bakugou's room." Sero smirks.

You're on your feet in a matter of seconds until the boys toss you onto Bakugou's cozy bed, the one you've crashed on multiple times while he was away or while he slept on the couch.

This time, Sero was quick to take control of the situation, ushering you to the edge of the bed where your head hung off. Sero smiled down at you, tapping his cock against your lips again as you eventually opened it for him. Before sliding it in, Sero leaned down and spit into your mouth, cutting any possible complaints off by shoving his cock down your throat.

"Fuck." Sero dragged out, watching as Kirishima took the opportunity to plant himself between your thighs, his tongue diving into your cunt. Your moans were silenced by Sero's cock as he fucked your throat raw. Kaminari was the only one who hadn't been inside your throat. But he was doing just fine, teasing himself with his hand, forcing himself to stop every time he felt like cumming at the sight of you being used by his friends.

"She tastes so good. Want more." Kirishima muttered against your cunt, using one hand to spread you open as his tongue wrecked your clit, his other hand dipped a single finger inside your tight entrance.

"She's so fucking tight." Kirishima commented, rubbing his middle finger along your folds, his knuckle just barely grazing the fleshy walls of your hole.

"I bet." Bakugou muttered.

"Can I fuck her thighs?" Kaminari asked, eyes bright with excitement. It was something he'd dreamt about doing. Feeling your plush thighs squeeze his cock, all while gripping handfuls of your tits, cumming on your tummy. It was a thought he could get off to over and over again.

"Shit. Gonna cum!" Sero groaned, sliding his cock past your lips once more, his cock twitching as he shot his hot load down your throat.

The next few seconds were fuzzy. Sero pulled out and shot up, cum leaking from past your lips. You couldn't swallow it. Shamefully spitting up, feeling horrible, it dropped onto your stomach and began to leak and make a mess.

"Awe, poor thing. Never had anyone cum in your pretty mouth before huh?" Sero patted your head, tilting it back so you could look up at him. Your lips were glossy and glistening with spit and cum, but your eyes were watery.

"Sorry! I-"

"Don't apologize. I should've just cum all over this pretty face instead." He smirked, leaning down, pressing a rough kiss to your lips. Kirishima decides to add another finger, and you're gone, moaning into Sero's mouth, hands gripping the sheets with enough force to turn your knuckles white.

Your thighs clamp over Kirishima's ears, and you find yourself grinding against his tongue and fingers, back arching off of the mattress. Bakugou just stands in awe, whipping out his phone to record the whole scene.

"Alright let Kaminari have his fuckin' turn." Bakugou groans, tugging Kirishima away, watching how your legs twitch as you cum for the second time. You're so sensitive and you don't know why. For the first time, after Sero pulls away, you see Kaminari's cock.

It's a little larger than average. It's pretty and slightly fatter at the head than at the base, and much like Sero's, as a pretty curve in it. Kaminari is eager to sandwich his cock between your thighs, watching how he smiles as he leans down to paw at your tits.

Just as he slides through your thighs, you feel the friction of his cock glide against your cunt, and suddenly you're awakened to yet another new feeling. Your back falls flat against the mattress again, your eyes floating back up to Sero who hovers over you. You go to reach for his cock but he shakes his head and yanks Kirishima over to his spot.

"Be a good girl for Kirishima, he likes to fuck pretty little mouths like yours." Sero grins evilly. You stare at the monster cock above your lips and you hesitate. How does he fucking live with a cock like this? Your cunt throbs just looking at it. You can imagine it buried in your cunt, your legs shaking as you cum over and over again on it.

Kaminari panted as moaned as his cock fucked your thighs, his hands still kneading your tits as Kirishima forced his cock down your throat, this time much slower than Bakugou or Sero had done. Your jaw ached in a much more intense pain. But you squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring it.

"That's it, take my fucking cock down your throat like the stupid little fucktoy you are." Kirishima degraded you. You let your hand travel down between your legs, forcing it to your cunt while not disrupting Kaminari's pleasure.

"Aw look, she wants to cum again." Kaminari quickly snatches your frisky hand back up, slowing his ministrations and slowing the friction of his cock grinding against your cunt.

Kaminari and the rest of the men hear your failed attempt at a whine as you struggle with Kirishima's cock in your mouth. Kaminari's hips move slowly and smoothly, humping your thighs like a needy pup.

Pining your hands to the mattress as he grinds his cock between your thighs, Kaminari lets out a huff before pulling himself away from you.

Kaminari groans and slinks over to Bakugou, whispering something in his ear which only elicits a smirk on his lips. Bakugou passes the word onto Sero who passes it onto Kirishima like a game of telephone.

Suddenly Kirishima's drawing his cock from your mouth and Bakugou's tugging you up.

"Get on your knees." Bakugou instructs, forcing your face down into the mattress, hiking your ass up into the air. Bakugou's palm comes down against your ass, the sound echoing in the full room. You whine into the sheets as he does it again, this time letting his hands grip your cheeks, spreading you apart.

"God, you're fucking dripping." Bakugou's not worried about the mess you've made smearing Sero's cum over his sheets, he'll have to wash them after what's going to happen.

Bakugou leans down into his mattress, tasting you for the first time. You clench the sheets between your hands, mewling in pleasure as his tongue flicks across your clit and scoops up your juices, most of it dribbling down his chin. He's eating you out like he'd been starved. You're cumming in a matter of seconds as he continues.

"'s too much! Please!" You cry out, your cunt aching in overstimulation. Kaminari had denied you once, and it didn't take much for the need to cum to overtake you.

"Gonna have to fuckin' punish you for that. Did I say you could cum, bitch?" Bakugou pulls away, spanking you once more.

"N-no!" You cry.

"'m sorry!" You apologize, hoping your efforts would spare you humiliation. But oh how wrong you were.

A searing pain rips through you as Bakugou's cock pushes past your entrance. Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth hangs open, a small cry ripping through your throat.

"It hurts!" You cry. Suddenly, the searing pain stops. Bakugou has pulled out, sighing as he moves onto the bed, waving for the guys to join.

Bakugou guides you down onto his cock, however, this time it's more like sitting on his lap. He's propped against his headboard, and you ease down as best as you can. It hurts, but Kirishima and Sero coddle you, kissing on your neck and chest, leaving Kaminari to suck on your nipples, flicking his tongue across your the hardened buds.

Bakugou bottoms out inside of you and all you can feel is the stretch. It hurts, more than anything you've ever felt. It's overwhelming and you can't think at all. Bakugou doesn't move. He rests inside you until you give a weary moan.

"Better?" He asks softly.

"Y-yeah." Your arms sling over the shoulders of the redhead and ravenette attacking your shoulders and neck with kisses and bites.

Bakugou's hands rest on your hips and help you up and down as you begin to bounce on his cock, the tip nudging against a spongey spot inside you, forcing moans to spew from you like a shook-up soda.

"Her moans are so fuckin' dirty." Kirishima speaks against your skin, sinking a hand down to your cunt, his fingers beginning to work at your clit, making you spew even lewder sounds as your moans turn to mewls and cries of pleasure.

"Who knew she could moan like that?" Kaminari laughed, palming at your breasts. You feel embarrassed, letting these men rip you to shreds while trying to learn.

It then dawns on you how you'd ended up in this predicament in the first place. You came here willing to learn, hoping to bring back something to help Izuku, but you'd completely blanked. You couldn't really remember anything they'd taught you, or if they'd taught you anything at all. Once you sucked Bakugou's cock, it'd all happened so fast.

Sitting on Denki's face, stuffing your face full of Kirishima and Sero's cock, cumming on Bakugou's tongue while being face down on his bed. It was all a strange feeling.

And now as your mind began to turn blank, vision clouding from pleasure, you realized you were fixing to cum again, this time from Bakugou's cock. All your pain had melted away-though a dull ache still remained in your abdomen, and turned to pleasure. You were cumming.

You. Were cumming.

Bakugou had taken your virginity.

And Bakugou had come to the same conclusion. As your cunt squeezed and pulsed against his aching cock, so desperately wanting to spill his load inside you and see you plump with his kid, claiming you for his own, stealing you away from that stupid fucking nerd you were with, he realized he had been the one in the end to claim you, and your virginity.

It was a sick and twisted sense of pride, to really think he had any say-so over your body. But there was something so devilishly hot to say that he'd been your first.

"Bakugou!" You cried out, your nails digging into the skin of Kirishima and Sero. Bakugou's cock continued to thrust into you.

"Yeah take my fuckin' cock. Take it you fuckin' whore. Gonna fuck you until you're braindead." Bakugou muttered, reaching a hand up to grip your throat, forcing your back against his chest.

"I wanna see you full of Kirishima's cock. Think you could take it? He'd rip you apart." Bakugou grinned, setting his friend up next. You shook your head against his hand on your throat.

"It's too big!" You cried, hoping that he'd listen to you. But he didn't. Instead, you found yourself back on the mattress, this time on your hands and knees. Weakly you kept yourself upright as Kirishima positioned at your entrance,

"Gonna use you like the little cocksleeve you are." Kirishima chuckles, watching as you squirm as the tip grazes your tight hole. Your cunt is dripping, every little touch seems to make you whine, and you can't tell if you've peed yourself or if you're just that wet. You think the former would be less embarrassing, but you decide to just stop thinking about it, and instead, you thank your body for all the natural lubrication it's making for Kirishima's cock.

Kaminari takes your mouth, sliding his cock inside and finally getting to feel what everyone else had. You can't speak, you can barely make any sounds with how raw they've fucked your throat. And you're painfully aware that they hadn't even bothered to slap on a condom. Not that you'd minded, they'd shown you time and time again that they were clean, and you were happy they'd taken the steps to have safe sex with any partner they had.

Kirishima's fingers leave bruises on your hips, gripping you with force. He sheathes himself inside you and you swear you feel yourself ripping in half.

It's so much, all at one time.

"Holy shit she fucking took you all." Bakugou says shocked, almost as if that was something to be proud of.

"He sent a chick to the ER. That phone call was awful." Sero teases the redhead for one of his mishaps.

"I didn't purposely hurt her! I was just trying to have fun, didn't think my cock was capable of tearing her fuckin' vagina." Kirishima feels a bit awkward talking about a terrible sex story while he's plowing into you, especially since you're too cockdrunk to even realize what's happening.

"Would you two shut up?" Kaminari's grabbing a fistful of your hair as he tilts your head back, sliding his cock down your throat, smiling down at you.

"You're doing such a good job. So fuckin' cute swallowing my cock like that." Kaminari praises. His praises make you feel warm and fuzzy, and you think for a moment, this is what it's like to be loved. But then images of Deku cross your mind. And your gaze drops, and you feel ashamed. You feel dirty.

You repeat to yourself that this is just a learning experience and nothing more. You'd never do this because you weren't satisfied in your relationship. No. You were doing this for Deku. You wanted to show him you knew what you were doing. You wanted to show him he could fuck your throat and make you cum with his tongue.

Kirishima grunted, his cock stretching even further, reminding you of the pain Bakugou had put you through the first time he'd entered you. It burned, but it became tolerable after a while.

"Shit, she's so fuckin' tight. Wanna cum inside." Kirishima groans. Your ears perk up at his words. You want to tell him no, but you can't. You don't. He pulls out before he gets the chance to and you're relieved.

"Sero, your turn." Kirishima trades places with Sero who was stroking his cock watching you get dicked down on both ends. Sero's cock takes you down an undiscovered path.

It seems every time he slides into you, his cock nudges against that spot inside you, making you cry in pleasure as Kaminari swaps places with Bakugou, his cock rammed down your throat once more.

Things become blurry, and all you remember is cumming again and again. When Sero nears his climax, he swaps places with Kaminari and Kirishima takes his chance to fuck your throat.

Kaminari's pace is different from Kirishima, Sero, and Bakugou's. He has no restraint. He fucks you fast, and hard, sending your body forward with each heavy thrust. He might be a bit smaller compared to the males, but he surely makes up for it.

"Out of everyone here, Kaminari has the most experience." Sero chimes in, patting his shoulder while he huffs, pounding into you until you're cumming around his cock, your milky white juices leaking out everywhere.

"She's making such a mess. How pitiful. So how fucked out are you, gorgeous?" Sero asks, watching as Kirishima pulls his cock out from your mouth, drool and saliva dripping past your lips as you choke out a moan.

"Feels-s so good." You babble, your head hangs on your shoulder as you bury it into the mattress, moaning as Kaminari fucks you into yet another orgasm. His stamina is incredible considering you thought he was still new to sex. Sorry Kami.

"She's fuckin' out of it jesus christ." Bakugou mumbles, pulling Kaminari out from between your cunt. Bakugou flips you onto your back and stares at you in amazement. Your legs are shaking and you're still making noise, whining about how you want more and how empty you feel.

"Please, fill me up." You whine, staring at the boys.

"With a face like that, how could we resist?" Kirishima grins, slapping Sero on the ass. Sero rolls his eyes and joins you on the bed.

"Think you can take two at once gorgeous?" Sero coos, laying down beside you, ushering you to lay on top of him. Your mouth drops open as you lower yourself onto him and lay back, watching as Bakugou saunters around to the front. He grins as he lines his cock up at your entrance, just barely pushing his tip inside.

"Kirishima stretched her out good for us to use her like the little whore she is. God, she's so fucking good at this I almost don't wanna give her back." Sero whines against your back, kissing your bare skin as Kaminari watches in amazement as Bakugou sinks his cockhead inside your already full cunt.

"So full. Want your cocks inside me." You manage to blurt out as Bakugou grips your thighs, shoving his cock into your stuffed pussy. It wouldn't fit all the way, but it threw you over the edge.

"Maybe she needs that filthy mouth of hers full of cock again." Kirishima's hand strokes his cock, eyeing Kaminari. Kaminari eagerly hops onto the bed, his knees hitting against Sero's arm as he taps his cock on your lips.

"Come on angel, wrap those pretty lips around my dick." Kaminari smiles, watching as your mouth lolled open. Sero's arms wrapped around your tummy, holding you against him as he fucked up into you, his cock rubbing against Bakugou's inside of you, both cocks rubbing against your walls, making you feel insanely good.

Kirishima was not going to let this moment go to waste. Snatching Bakugou's phone, he began to record, calling you a slut for them.

"Look at this cockdrunk whore. Stuffed full of three fuckin' cocks." Kirishima laughed, holding the phone near your pussy, making sure to record how Bakugou and Sero abused your cunt.

"What would Deku do if he got this nasty little clip huh? Bet he'd call you a slut. Watching his friends fuck your little virgin cunt until you're braindead." Kirishima grinned as he moved and set the phone up to continue recording for the rest of the session.

"Wanna fuckin' fill you up." Bakugou grunted.

"Teach that nerd a fuckin' lesson about how to fuck a woman." He continued.

"She's making such a mess, look at that pretty pussy. So sloppy." Kaminari moaned as your tongue swirled around the head of his cock, trying your best to take him into your mouth. The angle was a bit awkward but you managed, eventually pulling him into your mouth.

"God let's hurry this up, I can't take much more of her cunt squeezing me." Sero huffed into your back. He was going to cum again if he kept going. He wanted to fill you up like everyone else did, but he wanted to see his cum all over your pretty face.

Bakugou pulled out first leaving Sero alone inside you. You let out a strangled moan as Bakugou tapped his cock against your sensitive clit, your cries no longer silenced by Kaminari's cock since he too had pulled his cock from your mouth.

"Get down on the floor, on your knees." Bakugou instructed. Hazily you lifted yourself from Sero's cock, slightly amused by the moan he let out as he slid out of you. You stumbled onto the floor, sitting patiently on your knees as they gathered around you, this time smushing themselves to all have a view of you in the front.

"Can't wait to see you covered in cum." Kaminari spoiled the surprise, his hand jerking his cock. You stared up at Bakugou. Leaning in you licked the tip of his cock, watching as his eyes rolled back. You took turns swapping between the males until they were all helping you out, stroking their cocks at fast paces until Bakugou came.

Hot ropes of cum stuck to your face and chest as Kaminari came second, Sero third, and Kirishima fourth. It dribbled down your chin as you stared up at them, each of them smiling proudly at you.

"So fuckin' slutty. Look at her, so fucked out." Sero said breathily. They all rushed to grab their phones, snapping pictures of you covered in their cum. You just sat quietly, staring up at them as your chest heaved, your cunt throbbing.

"So what'd you learn?" Bakugou leans down, a handful of your hair holding your head back so he could look into your eyes.

"I-I like being stuffed full of cock." You babbled. Your cheeks were stained with his cum.

"Whose cock?" Bakugou's eyes narrowed.

"Yours." You parted your lips, still miraculously trying to catch your breath.

"Good girl." Bakugou praised. The other boys gathered around you, leaning down with towels to help clean you up.

It took about fifteen minutes to clean you up entirely, but afterward, they helped dress you and treated you to some dinner. You were nothing but smiles the entire time.

Before you left their apartment, Bakugou pulled you aside.

"Record your time with Deku so we can give you another lesson." He whispered into your ear, an evil smirk on his lips. You pulled away from him shyly, nodding.

"Thank you for teaching me." You thanked the men as you walked toward the door, an obvious limp in your step.

"Do you need a ride home angel?" Sero asks, ready to hop in his car and drive you over to your shared apartment with Deku.

"I think I'll be okay. I drove here anyway." You giggle. Sero smiles and glances at the others. Visions of your face covered in cum plague Sero's thoughts and he wants to slam you against the front door and fuck you all over again.

The same image is running through everyone's head as they stare at you as you leave, wanting you to stay. But it's too late when the door shuts and they're left alone as if nothing had happened.

"What happened doesn't leave this fuckin' apartment." Bakugou states, trudging off down to his room to put his freshly washed sheets on the bed.

When you arrive home, Deku's happy to see you. He doesn't question where you'd been, he knew you were with the boys hanging out. He smiles when you kiss him, and he's nothing but unaware of what had gone down.

He doesn't know about the cocks that had been stuffed inside your cunt, or a spot or two of dried cum that the towel might've missed that you'll clean up in the shower soon. He doesn't know about how dirty your mouth got and how it was filled with his friend's cocks only hours earlier.

He cuddles you sincerely until your hand begins to wander, palming him through his boxers.

"I'm ready." You smile sweetly, ready to put all that you had learned to the test.

✦ 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ✦

740 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 4 years ago

Text

SuperM as Boyfriends Headcanon

↪ caro’s note. extra long version because i miss ‘em. best boys, they’re all bf material to the moon and back ♡

5k words | bullet points

○ warnings ⚠️ 18+, dom/sub play, shibari, female reader, grinding, poly mentions, threesomes, face-sitting, femdom & vanilla, smut and fluff

⌈ ten

— motto: they won’t underestimate me for long.

most of your social environment is gonna be confused by ten at the beginning

and don’t really get what he’s all about

or think he’s like whatever, some random guy in a tank top

acting peculiar

finding him kind of hard to gauge

some of your family and relatives might even think he’s totally unusual and a sneaky fuckboy making you mad

they seriously wonder what you see in him

down the line that perception has turned by 180 degrees

as it should

ten becomes more irreplaceable, relatable, beautiful, perfect and impressive the more you know him

he’s not as mysterious and impossibly badass as everyone assumes

his personality is very approachable to you

and you find him interesting in every aspect, looks to hobbies to background to personal habits

and also opinions because ten is a guy who really thinks stuff through

so you gotta be roughly on the same wavelength

he likes discussing controversial and complicated stuff a lot for sure

being far wiser than his age suggests

you are the first to share those things with him until the rest of the world catches up to this gem of a person

spending so much time with you

in the most personal way he can

he takes you to see the floating markets in bangkok, you spend the summer in thailand

wakeboarding and playing badminton

his entire family knows you inside out at some point this shit is serious

it’s very important to him to go back to the roots every now and then

and that you have been around his home city as well

getting to enjoy the area and time together eating the most savory delicacies

renting a boat and paddling you around to the important spots, he can explain any question you have

this kissing is gonna be so romantic

who needs a vacation in venice when you can go to thailand with none other than ten himself as your ferryman let that sink in

except eating durian there he is, the boyfriend who can do anything!

with seemingly no effort

ten does little kind services of love for you throughout the day

he pours you herbal tea, fixes some furniture (he’s surprisingly good at tinkering), comes home from the bakery with your favorite pastry, does the laundry with your favorite fabric softener

he also goes on a huge shopping spree with you monthly because fashion is key in this household and it’s tremendous fun

you giggle when he puts on oversized shirts deliberately to look funny

everyone in the clothing store will think oh man what an adorable pair

ten will model the living hell out of the entire stock

and buy you the cape you really really want as a birthday present

said item turns out to be your favorite couple accessory

because you can sit next to each other on a bench at the river and wear it

what’s not to love about a portable blanket

of course he will take to instagram and make it such a cool thing, photographies of you wearing really cool coats and jackets

mirror bathroom selfies together as well, with a back hug, the classic

and not just for insta

you snuggle a lot generally

ten is always available for affection

and accepts all PDA

he’s a kitty after all, he loves the warmth of your body more than you know

remember how taemin said ten’s hands are always cold, newsflash not anymore since you stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie whenever you can

and hello sir your paws will be nice and cozy on my waist

or hand in hand when you waltz through your apartment

time for dance is a must

oh my god ten is so good at all of this

although say he’s definitely faster into latin than standard genres

tango argentino, he loves flamenco as well

don’t believe me? ten is a diehard rosalía stan!

vamos

so, no-brainer, expect a lot of dancy stuff

that escalates into wild, passionate fucking

which probably looks like an aggressive form of couple exercises

you poor sore souls

ten’s lil kitty butt is falling apart from all the “i can handle a bigger one!”-level pegging and you have aching legs all over

favorite position? full nelson

if you ask me ten’s ass is probably so carved out by the end of this you could fit lucas and kai in there from head to toe

this is not for the faint of heart

sex with this guy is extra cardio

and if you’re into that a threesome is gonna go down sooner or later

with our girl lisa

there. i said it

miss manoban in those knee-high boots, grinding her thighs between yours and you finishing off on ten’s face? the fucking hottest thing ever i need a moment wow

i don’t have to tell you how orgasmic this is gonna be

steamy sex life with ten very recommended

⌈ kai

— motto: you’re like a precious rose. i’ll protect you forever.

to be straightforward with you

he is in so heavily in demand it’s madness

to give you an idea of the scale

mark is basically occupied by yuta until the end of time

but kai has an entire idol fanclub on top of all erigoms

those sharp moves did not go unnoticed

he gets an inkigayo sandwich every other day

jesus christ

if rent-a-sexy-bf.com was a thing kai would be the most requested

his phone would be blowing up with contracts like

and you also have to pass kyungsoo’s vibe check

and taemin’s

the road to being kai’s gf is indeed the way of the samurai

i mean honestly: kim jongin is without a doubt the hardest member to get a date with

this has got to be the most selective man of the entire industry or something

if he likes you he REALLY likes you

and he will be the one showing initiative

because he wants to make it clear he isn’t just spending time out of politeness or something

although it’s pretty logical that if kai was unable to reject someone he would no longer be an idol but a harem husband busy every hour of the day

seoul would be able to found its own village

kai town

where like 70% of the population is pregnant

but since kai wants to keep on dancing obviously and he wants to lend his heart to only one person

seoul has to settle with a singular nini family house instead of a kai district

where you and the man himself are a full-fledged household basically since kai’s nieces double as actual kids

if you wanna be a young ass ‘mom but not mom with kids’ and be married to kim kai this is it

does he have a thing for milfs or something

that thought just came to my mind

anyway you’re mommy anyway wink wink

fucking til’ dawn until even his muscles hurt

going raw at the gym together

him cooking the most random food with the infamous waffle maker

cuddling with an army of teddy bears surrounding you

walking the dogs with the sexiest dancer alive

and the sexiness is only the tip of the iceberg

we know he’s all-round amazing

kai is the king of figuring out ways to chill out with you anywhere anytime

and yes innocent chilling

...unless you’re in the mood for something else

up to you

anyway

sweet innocent chilling for now... with the stunner... just smooching at best things aren’t going raw or anything

on the couch in the kitchen in the car when it’s parked somewhere in nature

kai takes you very seriously and is a great listener

he’s literally so respectful and open-minded i can’t

he will keep your secrets and stand up for you if it’s ever needed

yes he is extremely caring and invested

kai does not tolerate others being shady towards you

if there’s an instance where you are hurt and unable to assert yourself don’t worry. he knows how to confront others with measure but a firm determination.

kai takes a lot of that responsibility but only to the degree where you are comfortable

i think you get what i mean by that

and he is diplomatic instead of plain patronizing

you have a right to be protected. it means he not only treats you well, but also makes sure your well-being isn’t disturbed in any other way outside of the relationships

outside influences aren’t to be underestimated

and since kai is a godly man you encounter a lot of jealousy from others

a matter he will take into his hands since he knows he’s the reason

standing up for you also means saying no

to these jealous voices so this is an important boundary he has to draw

that all kinds of hellbent people want to get into his pants and take his stage image too literally is not up to you to fix

kai is there for you to enjoy and love not to defend

that’d be exhausting and beside the point

kai prevents stress and negativity to come to you

i hope i explained this well he doesn’t do this to be bossed up or make you weak it’s because he wants to make life easier for you

guys being protective will be chalked up as chauvinistic these days. often rightfully so

but what i mean is that kai support you in all regards so you won’t be at a disadvantage or feel terrible about something

⌈ taeyong

— motto: we’ll take good care. enjoy the pleasure.

he’s the type of boyfriend who will ask you about things he missed out on while he was busy

things um from the internet

while mark literally knows that one by heart already taeyong will ask you things like what the wellerman song is

and you thought it would be something nsfw

i got you fooled

did we forget that the man literally watched nct memes on youtube

taeyong is both even more 18+ than you think but also even more innocent than you think it’s complicated

this man is just hard to describe he’s so different, i mean every person is unique but he’s an original it’s the extra mile you know

anyway

sea shanties

bopping to it all day since he just heard it

singing it while he prepares dinner based on a youtube recipe video as he often does

he’s the most adorable person ever ever ever

asking you why shanties are back in fashion

(good question, requires a deeper sociocultural analysis i reckon)

planning to remix one for his soundcloud lmao i kid you not

maybe your favorite shanty

featuring fast-pace rap and all

creating his own previously unknown phrases and shit like that you know him

palazzo rocco lemon detox flashbacks

he’s hilarious i swear

taeyong will produce his own shanties for you can you imagine

as he says: my happiness is your happiness

watch out he will drop a shanty music video with extra krumping moves

taeyong is a never-ending source of pure crack

prepare to laugh a lot like, a lot lot

how can a man who seemingly has such a serious outlook on life and such a bonkers kinda face be so lighthearted

it’s like he’s peter pan or something

especially since he has to manage like over 20 brats in nct his cutesy behavior towards you as his gf will stand out to you

yeah so to be clear we all know he’s the cute one in the relationship

and guess who wears the pants

that’s always you ma’am don’t deny it

or wait

not for long actually because they come off um physically

but not metaphorically

because who doesn’t wanna sit on his face tbh

your favorite reserved spot

he loves it

taeyong has such a thing for your body it’s ridiculous

mister lee got a sexy mama

and you have such a thing for the gloriousness that is him

but neither of you will not admit it as openly as other people would think

all there is... is being flustered

baekhyun probably has to play some cupid now and then

and give you some ideas

like gifting taeyong plushies and things like that

baekhyun knows what taeyong is all about so the advice is very welcome

but most things you find out for yourself

by being a little braver with him you know

you walking around naked in the apartment or basically fresh out the shower with nothing but a towel

will shake up taeyong so immensely, he will back himself against a wall without you even pinning him there lmao!

jeez he’s so deep into kinky stuff but easily shook anyway

i quote him again: “born to be cute, i dunno!”

you can imagine the overwhelm when you rub yourself against him like it’s nobody’s business

it’s so much fun to give taeyong a regular horny meltdown not gonna lie

this man was grinding his whole body all over the superm stage and now he’s basically freezing up and drooling

how many denied and ruined orgasms he’s gonna get, so much overstimulation all the way

you’ll lose count of it

and just how wet you’re gonna be

is a thing for the history books

taeyong isn’t such a big deal in nct for no reason god gave him every talent

so great sex is obviously in his repertoire

i think you’re gonna break some records for most fucks per week

you know... guys like lucas taemin kai and baekhyun spend more time wooing and teasing and flirting

but taeyong gets down to business

one glance is enough

⌈ lucas

— motto: the hottest couple around.

ah, big boy

you really got this man’s attention

doing nothing much at all really

he probably just saw you walking around talking to friends

carrying an impossibly huge veggie burger munching and enjoying yourself after going on a jog

yeah boy that’s how you catch his eye

they say love begins in the stomach and that is the true meaning

or the nose, your food smells really good, lucas is going crazy, he’s seeing stars and shit

anyway

the towering burger isn’t the only thing he wants

lucas cannot get you out of his mind no matter how much he tries to distract himself

with more good food, movies, games

fooling around with wayv or the superm maknaes, and working out

he’s admittedly... a little himbo head over himbo heels with you the feels got to him

he’s not gonna say it’s a date he’s just gonna invite you just because

to hang out in the kitchen while taeyong cooks and baekhyun comes up with the idea to play twister

imagine lucas with his long arms and legs bending himself all over the place

fighting with kai who almost crashed his shoulders into taemin who avoided the accident quickly

making you lose a round

obviously lucas will hustle until your team wins

mostly because he’s so tall and baekhyun is so small which is a huge advantage when stacking each other over the map

let’s just face it baekhyun only suggested this game to bite everyone’s butts and to see you have skinship with lucas

which is definitely a successful plan of the leader

yukhei is in paradise

jumping around his room like an oversized bunny after you went home

don’t lie, you fell hard for him as well he’s just such a presence

emotionally, physically

a gentle but persistent giant

he’ll do anything to make your relationship happen once he knows you’re interested

if there’s someone meant to be a boyfriend it’s gotta be him come on

he will cave in after a while and admit he can’t just forget about you

not gonna lie

your ex is gonna be shaking in his ratty boots

his poor eyes will literally jop from their unexpecting sockets

when he sees lucas hanging out with you

with his shining blonde hair and tall stature, that perfect shapely body, with great fashion on top of that

looking like your guardian angel

man, xuxi really does

pulling you out of your slump that’s been going on for months

and bringing back smiles and a good time he knows how to do that best

and big big hugs of course

you can imagine how soothing and grounded it feels with such huge arms around you

he will make sure that feeling is always there when you need it

because you deserve that treatment

which means he will come over very very often

yeah get ready for how yukhei is a lot more driven than you think just dial and he will be there

underneath the meme surface is someone very determined who really really wants you

yukhei is chaotic good incarnate but in that area he isn’t messing around

his brain is like: “gotta be with her”

on repeat

he must call you, he literally can’t sleep without tying loose ends together as quickly as possible

no second wasted with this guy, even far down the relationship timeline

i really pity your ex

i mean someone dating any superm member would drive their former partner completely nuts

but lucas is a special case

he has that kind of look and aura that makes other guys dig themselves into the ground like wiggling worms or cope by fanboying over him

i don’t wanna make this sound like a competition and yet — congrats on your noodly blondie boyfriend alright

⌈ mark

— motto: two nerds in love.

how to explain this. mark is a perfect balance of a lover, a talker, and a shy bean

with a tendency toward bean

and flicking the bean

you know

cutting right to the chase are we

mark is very invested in pleasing you as good as he can

and defeating his awkwardness

because if we know one thing it’s that he always strives to become better and better like he can’t help it

and isn’t afraid of almost biting off more than he can chew

how many subunits is he part of at this point is it gonna be nct hollywood as well god dangit

back to the point mark doesn’t treat relationships and sex as something static which is a good and rare thing

he does his best and always looks for room to improve

while being very nervous, very bilingual, it takes two languages or more to express what he thinks about you let that sink in

that’s very shaky first date sex while being extremely in love with each other

lucky you

and an afterglow where he plays the guitar for you

that’s so nice

he can play it while laying down and shit

while singing

not rapping, actual full-fledged serenading

we’ve heard how that sounds in the relay cam

are you dating some kind of teenage heartthrob or something huh

mark will make it very clear he’ll stick around, this bad bitch is here to stay

or actually, he’s a good bitch, don’t misunderstand

mark doesn’t have a lot of edgy in him unless rap is concerned

he’s the kinda guy to get lost in IKEA with

having a good time

as often as his schedule permits

you really have to make use of your time together

this man might as well the busiest idol out there

and you are no different because birds of a feather

you’re both mr. and ms. independent

out and about very often

so meeting up becomes something special during comeback season

or wait mark always has a comeback going on

which is a double-edged sword but something you both know you signed up for

which is why you spend a lot of time around NCT dream, 127, and SuperM

sm’s publicity agents have to work extra hard i’m telling you

a dating rumor is the last thing both of you would need

since you befriend several members you gotta stay on the low as well

but hey the rage of jealous people of the public is nothing compared to the force of nature that is yuta nakamoto

who seriously thinks himself threatened and robbed

in case you are feeling possessive as well...

...you might have to fistfight yuta

to be able to be with mark

who is basically property of osaka at this point

yuta is a scorpio that’s just the way it is

unlike taeyong who wishes his rap buddy the best, yuta kinda wants to be mark’s wingman and see him date, live his best life

but also have mark for himself to fawn over and to adore, to be fascinated by

we get it yuta. bisexual struggles. very understandable

you have to promise in person that mark doesn’t forget about the holy gaming nights with yuta

which is hilarious since that’s not up to you but mark’s memory

bestie, yuta uses everyone as a scapegoat don’t sweat it too much

regardless you put a weekly reminder on the fridge

so the roaring lion yuta would be pacified

he doesn’t want to lose his sweetheart can you blame him

the ultimate but also most risky solution is obviously inviting yuta for movies

which will be appreciated but also cause a storm

mark will definitely break a sweat when you start a popcorn war or try to prove who hugs mark the best

caught in the middle of mayhem is mark lee’s specialty what did you expect

this either ends with murder or a chaotic open relationship down the line

yuta really is attached but who wouldn’t be

it could be worse mark has double the love you know

⌈ baekhyun

— motto: you wanna know why i’m your candy?

baby tell me are you ridin’?

in fair verona where we lay our scene...

that baekhyun always wants to woo you — his way, which proves to be very interesting to say the least — is never hard to miss

putting in effort is mochi default mode

no matter what stage of the relationship you’re in

he might as well regularly serenade you under your balcony in the backyard just because

probably singing ‘baby we can stay up’ and wiggling his ass in all directions because he’s a dirty boy gone wild

yeah. nowadays romeo is twerking instead of feuding with tybalt

that’s good for him and everyone involved

you in particular because you get some very racy eye candy

you know how baekhyun is

at least nobody’s around seeing him put on an 18+ show like that

your little guy is one unhinged fella

if it starts pouring he will grind up and down the next lantern and belt out ‘singing in the rain’

you bet he can do some actual pole dance

he’s strong and bendy you know

and loves to gyrate his whole bag of bones like... he wants to hit you with all the body rolls

in the rain

what a freaky man

but hey you wanna stay up for sure

doesn’t take long until you beckon him to come upstairs

where the only way to alleviate him of his wet clothes—

oh well he has those roger rabbit vibes and you can’t be mad at it

he will play off all his hormonal antics

baekhyun is hilarious

and so perverted, he can keep up with your spicy idea of playing patty-cake don’t worry

how do i know you’re an extra nsfw kinda person?

who else would like baekhyun

he says juicy things all the time

and does juicy things

yes. finally a couple on eye level indeed.

when baekhyun asks are you ridin’ you ask how hard

bruh

this is gonna be fun

and remember

beside handing you sacks of money

his priority is always to make you smile

i’m kidding about the bags but

baekhyun is so rich it’ll show in your relationship, but he’s more about the interactions with you rather than the lifestyle

baekhyun didn’t hustle for a bentley he hustled to sing and get out of sm alive alright

financial stability: important

luxury: very nice to have, he can make you the presents you want to have and travel a lot together

but smiles: baekhyun priority

because he so badly wants to know you love him and adore him, he sometimes feels so insecure

of course you do

you always reassure him with your reactions

it’s very important to him don’t underestimate it

baekhyun has always been talking about his ideal type in terms of how he can cheer her up

so even the naughtiest sexy time evenings are gonna be filled with all giggles

anyway other than that your pussy will be dripping

because this guy is as horny as all other members of super m combined

and you have your ways of leaving him tongue-tied and wrists-tied

taemin’s impact

superm isn’t short of bondage supplies we all know that

so yeah. shibari baekhyun is gonna happen

since he does pilates imagine what kinda shapes you can bend this lil guy into

and take some pictures

privé is in trouble

bondage model baekhyun is bursting onto the scene

you might even run a risque blog that features cropped pictures with him

heh — you think people will recognize him by his body?

nope

first: you only upload HD pictures that aren’t whitewashed

baekhyun is basically never photographed like that

second: who expects baekhyun to be featured on a bdsm blog with his girlfriend

and this is the guy that drives you around in his expensive car with his big black shades on

well what can i say

nothing is the way it seems

⌈ taemin

— motto: i’ll unfold a whole new world for you.

taemin is cocky, he’s sensual, and: a very smiley person as we know

least boring relationship ever

he will prance toward you whenever he can to involve you in cuddles

touch-starved taemin is a thing

kkoong can tell you about it, he needs kisses and embraces so often

might as well pepper him with it no problem

and put him into your oversized sweaters when he eats ice cream on the sofa, watching movies, and you brush his ever-growing hair

he’s smol he’s gonna fit into them don’t worry

and on the other hand he likes a rough and tough girl who thinks of him like a boy toy

who acts tsundere or like his bodyguard

working out almost daily to the point of sweat all over

a gal probably able to pretzel minho lucas and chanyeol into one giant bundle

taemin truly has the taste of a divo

multi-layered as always

so you couldn’t say the relationship is always the same in sentiment, the vibe of the dynamic could be different every day

we love a complex man

what would be volatile to others is actually an advantage up close

because taemin understands every difficult facet of himself and his partner

even if those facets might be contradictory

or something that’s felt shameful about

he will accept and listen anyway

the same goes for getting what drives you

taemin is like a walking psychology velvet couch with fancy swirls as arm rests

point is he isn’t fooled by the surface of the world

he knows what has to be known

which also means your looks aren’t the part he prioritizes

and not even outward personality and habit is what he’s drawn to

it’s the mentality and values underneath

that’s true compatibility to him and he can feel it

he’s really really smart

and also finds it important that you get along with shinee and superm, that you think they’re nice to be around and vice versa

especially kai as taemin’s absolute bearly bestie. if kai thinks you’re shady and you don’t like kai either

or if you’re permanently super awkward and taemin’s moodmaking doesn’t help

we have a problem

but fair enough

kai and taemin are basically one soul at this point so if taemin likes you jongin does anyway

bff telepathy

in fact jongin was probably the one introducing you to taemin lmao!

because he knows you go well together instinctively and he is correct

so not to worry then

and it’s good on taemin to think longterm and not see you as a person outside of social interaction y’know

cough cough he thinks about marriage, you might be ms. lee one day

here he goes again taemin is just very mature seeing you as well-rounded in every aspect of life

without letting his dick make the important decisions at the detriment of making this a relationship of two lives not just two bodies only

but obviously don’t assume taemin is no horny devil. we all know he dreams of the freakiest scenarios and fantasies in this whole group

going kinda crazy about the thought of making you cum which he always wants to try with new methods

which occupies his mind more than a big bowl of super spicy noodles which is taemin’s favorite meal so

at the same time taemin junior is definitely the same clingy attention whore as his sparkly owner

limp wrists from all the handjobs on your side

and very swollen lips from giving all that head on his side

this is gonna be interesting

he puts the 6v6 in 69

equals 69v69 am i right

but i’m serious that’s gonna be a lot of oral action

you definitely ask each other about having sex very often, daily if you have the time and find a nice spot

and how on earth do both of you keep your hands off each other sleeping in one bed

taemin is touchy as hell with no shyness, and you squish squeeze and grope this guy like the mochi he is

ah when things go both ways

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chickensarentcheap · 2 years ago

Text

Invictus: Chapter 5

Title: Sunrise

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @raith-way, @jvstjewels, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @youflickedtooharddamnit, @munstysmind, @tragiclyhip, @kthynes, @arrthurpendragon, @asirensrage, @ocappreciationtag

Tag list is OPEN. Just message me or comment here to be added :)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34207960/chapters/102552684

He slips into a pair of boxer briefs and grabs a bottle of water before stepping outside and closing the patio door behind him. The sun has started to rise; glistening on the surface of the calm, still water and painting the sky in vivid shades of orange, yellow, and magenta. And he glances back into the bedroom Esme now on her side with back towards the door; naked aside from the thin, top sheet that covers her from the middle of the back down. Contently scrolling through her instagram feed and posting pictures and videos from the day before; a well deserved and earned relaxation afternoon that consisted of dips in the pool and naps alongside of it and feasting on various foods and drink brought by room service.

At times he finds it hard to believe that it's been fifteen years now; close to two decades of sharing the bed and enjoying the same body. A far cry from the guy he’d been before her; filling the lonely nights with random names and faces and never developing -or wanting- anything beyond the purely sexual. Everything had changed when she’d wandered into his life. HE had changed. And all these years later, the lust and hunger and the want have yet to die down; their connection and their bond becoming stronger with each trial and tribulation they’ve endured.

“Things are really starting to go south.” Yaz doesn’t bother with a traditional greeting; his frustration seeping into every word. “Way quicker than we thought they would.”

“Things have been going south over there for a couple months now. Which is why I’ve had rotating teams keeping an eye on things. You’ve got the second stringers there; they’re more than capable of keeping shit under control.”

“If they’re so capable, why the fuck is shit getting worse? Why isn’t it starting to die down? These assholes aren’t scared of anything; they’re engaging with our guys every damn chance they get. We’re running out of ammo and we need more medical supplies and…”

“Yaz, calm the fuck down. I’m already about five steps ahead of you. It’s on its way. Everything you could possibly need. More ammo, more guns, grenades and whatever you need to blow shit up. And there’s better tactical gear and practically a whole fucking field hospital. You want a kidney too?”

“What about men? You sending more men over? Because these ones are all banged up; they’ve definitely seen better days.”

“I’ve got K and Koen arriving in a couple of hours. Did you really think I wouldn’t be on top of this? You doubt me that much?”

“I never said I..”

“How long have we known each other, Yaz? How long have we been working together?”

“Too fucking long,” he grumbles. “Known one another for a couple decades. At least. Been working for you for five years now. And I wasn’t doubting you, I was just…”

“Freaking the fuck out. Like you always do. How have you not had a stroke by now?”

“I don’t know. Considering you’re the biggest goddamn pain in the ass EVER. If you’re not going getting yourself shot to hell and knocking on death’s door, you’re doing some other stupid, dangerous shit. You know, it’s a goddamn miracle you made it to fifty. You must have nine bloody lives. Like a cat. A rabid one, at that.”

“Guess I have a couple of horseshoes up my ass.” (glances back towards the room, Esme on her stomach, still looking through her social media, with the sheet slipped below the small of her back and showing off a slice of the crack of her butt)

“More like enough for a whole stampede of horses. And look, I don’t mean to freak out. I don’t like losing my shit like that. But when the boss starts calling saying you’re not answering his calls or returning his texts…”

“I’m the boss, remember? I call the shots. I make the plans and I’m the one that tells the guys what to do and I make sure it’s all carried out. Let’s not give Mikhail more power than he already thinks he has. I’m in charge.”

“Then you need to set him straight. Because he’s been challenging us every step of the way. He isn’t liking your playbook; he’s constantly bitching about your strategies and trying to change shit. Guys are starting to get confused; they don’t know who they hell they should be following. If you don’t put him in his place…”

“You tell the guys that the only person they’re supposed to be listening to is me. Or whoever I’ve put in charge. What a fucking drongo…” Sighing heavily, he takes a swig of water and gingerly lowers himself onto one of the deck chairs. While bearable and no cause for worry or distraction, the pain in both knees is constant now; a byproduct of a lifetime spent testing his body’s limits and the many operations he’s endured. But he’s alive and healthy nonetheless. The years spent away from his addictions and sticking to a strict and strenuous workout schedule and relatively clean eating serving him well. “...I should have known dealing with him was going to be a nightmare.”

“I know he kisses your ass to your face, but he’s nothing but fucking trouble. He’s constantly trying to take over the entire mission, always questioning every move you make, bitching and moaning we’re not doing enough. I know he’s paying us a shit ton of money, but I’m starting to root for the other guys here.”

“I don’t know what more he expects me to do. He wanted things to stay low profile; said to keep the body count down, not spill so much blood. Went on and on about not wanting on him and the family. I’ve done the fucking best I can.”

“I know that. All the guys know that. We’ve always got your back; nothing but faith and trust in you. And you’ve done good. Considering. But the attention IS starting to pick up and we’re running out of morgue space here. I know you said not to transport the bodies all over the place, but…”

“Start getting rid of them. I’ll get you guys a van or a truck. Something plain, simple. Inconspicuous. Start putting ‘em in there. Wait until the dead of the night, start taking them out. I don’t care what you do with them, but just make sure they’re not easily found. If found at all.”

“And if shit for brains bitches about us getting rid of his trophies?”

“Take pictures first. Send them to him. And tell him I said if he doesn’t want attention, he shouldn’t be keeping his death count where anyone could find it. Then tell him I said to fuck off.”

“I think I better NOT say that last part. He scares me.”

“Oh for fuck sakes. Yaz…”

“There’s something not right with that guy. I mean, other than the whole Russian mobster thing. The whole way he is…the really nice and chatty one minute, an evil fucking shit the next…is totally messed up. Don’t you get a vibe from him? I get a weird vibe from him. That goes way beyond organized crime.”

“I get a weird vibe from EVERYONE that hires us. Esme thinks he’s a psychopath. Something about him having little to no conscience and how if he was a sociopath, he’d have small moments of empathy and remorse. I don’t know; I don’t always listen when she launches into the psycho babble.”

“That’s what you get for landing yourself an educated woman,” Yaz chides. “I’m sure she uses a lot of words you don’t understand. I’m sure you struggle with anything over two syllables.”

“You know what…” Tyler smirks and takes a swig of water. “...I won’t think twice about beating the piss out of you the next time we’re in the same room together.”

“You no longer scare me. I learned long ago that your bark is way worse than your bite. How many times have you threatened me over the years? And I STILL have all my limbs? And my same asshole? You’ve never torn me a new one like you’ve said you would.”

“There’s always a first time, Yaz.”

“You love me too much. If you hurt me or killed me, you’d spend the rest of your life missing and wallowing in regret. Now look, I don’t know exactly what the hell is going on with Mikhail, but he’s way beyond messed up. Sociopath, psychopath, birdbath, doesn’t matter. He’s a sick fuck. Who keeps piles of bodies just so he can visit them and gloat over his success? That’s screwed up. And the fact he makes us cut pieces off them and…”

“A lot of assholes keep momentoes. He’s not the only one that takes souvenirs. Or sends little…care packages…to his enemies families.”

“All I know is that he’s fucked in the head. And the way he just shows up and starts bossing us around and changing all the plans and undermining you and…?”

“If he shows up, do nothing more than just smile and nod. When he leaves, ignore everything he said and stick to the plans we drew up. If he actually knew what he was talking about and how to handle his shit, he wouldn’t be in the mess he is and he wouldn’t need outside help. He’s an idiot. And tell the guys the same thing. Don’t listen to him. I’m the boss. It’s staying that way.”

“You know, when you go all boss man Tyler? When you get all domineering and aggressive and shit? It makes me all warm and tingly inside.”

“Now you know why my wife stays with me. And why she’s always got that little smile on her face. Her insides are constantly tingly.”

“Sure they are,” the other man chuckles. “I’m sure that’s EXACTLY what she tells you. About her insides.”

“You mean when I’m not rearranging them?”

“Alright…alright…” Yaz gags dramatically. “...some things I DON’T need to hear.”

“You know better than to make sexual comments towards me. So if you don’t want to hear it…”

“Oh, I’ve heard it. More than once. I know you’re not the noisy one, but Esme…”

Grinning, he stretches out his legs and props his feet on the balcony railing. “And it’s all genuine. Every damn sound that comes out of her mouth.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“My wife has NEVER faked it. Not once in fifteen years. And you know why? ‘Cause I get shit done. I’ve never disappointed her. So if you’re having those kinds of issues…”

He glances over his shoulder as he hears a light tapping against the window; Esme keeping her distance until he either gestures for one more minute or motions for her to join him. It’s something therapy has helped them discover and uphold many years; not only setting healthy boundaries, but respecting and following them. Both had had so much baggage holding them back; horrible first marriages that had been preventing them from growing and strengthening their relationship. Both individual and couple counselling had done them a world of good; learning how to communicate better and how to better handle their anger and how to not allow the ghosts of the past to ruin their future. Despite there brewing no pressing or troubling issues within their marriage, they still attend twice a month; forever learning new ways to build upon their foundation and how to be the best partners for each other they possibly can.

Crooking a finger, he motions for her to join him outside; both amused and intrigued by the sight of her in his top from the night before. It’s always held an unexplainable sexiness; his wife’s petite frame swimming in one of his tees or dress shirts. In turn, she’s held onto a firm, proud grasp of the power she wields over him; enjoying the way she so easily riles him up and then leaves him waiting -and aching- for me. Confidently unleashing her inner tease; driving him crazy with a flash of thigh and hip when she lowers herself into a chair, or by hiking up the bottom of the shirt as she passes by. Holding it tight across the small of her back in order to give him a tantalizing view of her ass.

Today she behaves; mindful of both the ongoing phone conversation and the lingering tension that hangs in the air. And in order to lighten the mood, she briefly pauses behind his chair, playfully tugging at his ears before dropping a kiss on the top of his head. When she attempts to step away he snags her by the wrist; a grin playing on his laps as he maneuvers her in front of him. And when he gives a firm tug, she loses her balance and tumbles towards him; a strong, protective arm immediately circling her waist and gathering her tightly against him.

“Jerk,” she whispers, as she’s pulled into his lap; yanking playfully at his beard and then pressing a kiss to his temple.

She settles herself sideways on his thighs and wraps both arms around his neck; releasing a soft, quiet yawn as she rests her head upon his shoulder. Her body immediately relaxing against his; basking in the feel of smooth, warm skin and hard muscles and a familiar smell. It’s been fifteen years now; halfway to two decades with the love of her life. A far cry from the woman who’d once sworn off never trusting a man again; refusing to put all of her heart and her soul into one person and have both decimated in the end. She certainly hadn’t accepted Nik’s job offer with the intention of falling hopelessly and madly in love; wanting nothing more than experience under her belt and a handsome payout deposited into her bank account.

But there’d he been; standing in the middle of his kitchen in the worn down shack in the Australian outback. A broken, guilt and grief stricken man caught up in a dangerous and self destructive life. A body and face scarred and battered, yet a glimmer of humanity still lingering in his eyes; someone who’d seen and heard and done a lot, yet hadn’t -at least not yet- lost his soul. There was a surprisingly gentleness that coexisted within the rough and tattered exterior; someone lonely and hurting who’d also long ago given up on both love and themselves. His eyes, although haunted, had still been a vivid shade of blue; testament to a weary and shattered soul and heart that hadn’t truly given up. Not yet, anyway. And he’d been completely unaware of how he’d taken her breath away; heart hammering wildly in chest when she caught him watching her intently from inside the shack. It had been an evident mixture of emotions upon his face; surprise, annoyance, intrigue. Undoubtedly curious about the strange woman who’d shown up in the middle of nowhere and parked herself on his doorstep.

She’d hid it well. The effect he had on her. The way those eyes and that little twitch of a smile had nearly knocked her senseless. But it had been a struggle to regain her confidence and she’d had to force the recovery; a not so steady smile on her face as she finally approached. Face to face, the attraction had been more immense than she’d anticipated; feeling a flush of approval at the sight of thick, tanned forearms and the way his shirt sleeves strained against his biceps. And his hands; enormous and strong with their calloused palms and fingertips and their misshapen knuckles. Capable of unbelievably brutality; many a life had been ended because of their force and power. Yet there’d been a softness she couldn’t quite explain when he’d accepted her offer of a shake in greeting; her eyes widening as his hand so easily and effortlessly seemed to swallow hers whole.

Things had happened so quickly after that initial meeting. She’d barely had a chance to breathe, let alone referee the fierce battle between her heart -and hormones for that matter- and her mind. The latter constantly reminding her of what Mark had put her through; the years of horrendous abuse he’d inflicted upon her, his numerous extra marital affairs, and all the times he’d convinced her that she was ‘nothing’ and no one else would ever want her. She’d made a promise to herself and her mind was hell bent on forcing her to keep it; never trust another man and never…EVER…let someone get that close again. But her heart and her body had had agendas all of their own; both the physical and sexual attraction powerful and overwhelming and just enough to drown out the more responsible voices. It had been over a year since she’d felt the touch of another and he made her ache in a way no one else ever had; a desperation and a longing that couldn’t be stilled or quieted.

It was an attraction that went far beyond his muscle hardened body, rugged handsomeness, and the inklings of humanity and danger that somehow managed to co-exist. She had felt that enough damage had been done to her that she couldn’t possibly be THAT into someone; a simple touch of their hand making her heart flutter and their voice making her weak knees. And those eyes; taking her breath away every time he so much glanced in her direction. He had made her FEEL, and in turn reminded of everything she’d been through and conquered. She wasn’t dead inside after all; Mark hadn’t managed to kill everything that was beautiful and good inside of her. And while her heart and soul were bruised and tattered, she wasn’t immune to the obvious chemistry between her and Tyler. And she’d found herself consumed with overwhelming want and need; things she’d never experienced for even her ex husband.

Though her brain had been screaming at her to snap out of it and insisting she was just setting herself up for trouble and heartache, she’d been unable to resist. Giving in to that need and hungry and how desperate she was to feel beautiful and wanted. To know she had that kind of effect on someone; able to make them shudder and gasp and even beg for more. Those moments held a sexiness and a beauty that she’d never witnessed before; a big, strong man allowing himself to be vulnerable beneath ministrations. And his touch had felt so damn good; her body aching right to its deepest and most forgotten crevices. No one -man or woman- had ever worshiped her the way he had; frenzied and insatiable as she experienced a mix of hands and mouth. Exploring every inch of her sweaty, trembling form; her skin teased by the slickness of tongue and the scratch of beard and the nip of teeth. Nothing but pure and unadulterated pleasure; at the mercy of a man who knew exactly what he enjoyed and who and what he wanted.

She had lost count of the number of times they’d enjoyed each other in the span of twelve hours; the outside world simply ceasing to exist. During the breaks between they’d seek out food and drink to keep themselves hydrated and their energy levels near their peak. Lounging naked in the middle of rumbled and twisted sheets; shockingly comfortable for two relative strangers that had spent the better part of day experiencing insane levels of passion and pleasure together. And at night, when both their minds and bodies were finally sated and the lull of sleep descended on them, she’d experienced the touch of a man in its simplest and purest forms. She’d been horrified when he’d initially resisted her attempts to get closer to him; feeling his body freeze against hers when she’d snuggled in close and placed her head upon his chest. While she’d been quick to blush and apologize profusely, he’d been even quicker to assure her that everything was fine; reaching for her when she moved away and pulling her tightly against him. It had taken him by surprise; not used to affection that came AFTER sex. And he’d admitted that it felt ‘nice’. Their naked bodies pressed together and her breath wafting against his skin as his fingers repeatedly moved through her hair.

It was the first time she’d ever felt safe. Completely secure in someone else’s presence. And she hadn’t even been aware that she needed to feel those things.

Everything about those five days had been wrong. At least by ‘job standards’. Giving in to mutual attraction and lust and further feeding it had forced them across a line that shouldn’t have been crossed. It could have ended in total disaster; blurring the lines between lovers and co-workers and putting the entire mission at risk of failure. Yet it had felt so good. So…PERFECT. A miracle for both of them considering their pasts; somehow finding a level of trust and acceptance in one another’s arms. Comfortable enough to share their deepest and darkest secrets and somehow forming an impenetrable bond in such a short span of time.

And now, fifteen years later, she still can’t help but wonder: If it had been so wrong, why had it felt so right?

*****

She listens to the remains of the conversation; the finalization of further strategic plans and reassurances that more supplies and men are on the way. Always amazed at the way he’s able to stay calm and steadfast when it comes to the job; often the only collected and level headed person in the room when things are completely falling apart. Despite lingering cognitive issues away from the business, he continues to thrive in his role as a boss; able to easily and effortlessly adjust to any challenge or roadblock thrown his way. His brain remaining sharp and intuitive; quickly coming up with solutions and other methods of ‘attack’ when all other avenues have been thwarted or exhausted.

The pride she feels is indescribable; immense and profound and spilling from an already overflowing cup. She knows the things he’s had to overcome to get this far; mountains of baggage and decades of trauma and the various injuries that have broken both body and spirit. And the often worrisome brain issues; the forgetfulness and the sudden loss of words and the struggles to often put together even the simplest of sentences. And it’s a future she doesn’t like to think about; the worsening of the ‘gray matter’ in his brain caused by the oxygen deprivation when he’d coded twice in the OR after Dhaka. They’d been warned that it could be degenerative; Nathan had targeted the head and caused injuries of his own and only added onto the already existent problems. Therapy has helped him accept the cards he’d been dealt. To an extent. It isn’t an easy pill to swallow; the possibility of deterioration to the point of no longer being able to speak or feed yourself and one day not even recognizing your own family. But he keeps himself busy in order not to visit the ‘ dark place’; filling his days with working out and tending to responsibilities with the business or tasks around the house or on the property. And quality time with her and the kids; putting his family first and finally finding that happy balance between work Tyler and personal life Tyler.

She enjoys the way his voice reverberates within his chest; deep and smooth with that thick Aussie accent. And it’s that that she concentrates on; eyes closed as she listens to him speak and her fingertips methodically trace the tattoos that grace his rib cage and his lower abdomen. She goes to the ‘dark place’ way too often; terrified of the unknown and the possibility of losing him to his own mind. She’d learn to deal, of course; she’s stepped up before to take care of him when he’d been gravely injured and close to death. But there’s a tremendous difference between watching someone improve and watching them slip away. Healing -while arduous and painful at times- comes with hope. There’s no getting better from the issues that now plague him; a stalemate the best possible scenario and complete and utter deterioration being the worst. And they’ve spoken in length about what to expect if that indeed does happen; Tyler making it very clear that he never wanted to get to the point where he longer remembered her. He couldn’t live like that. In fact, he WOULDN’T. He refused to let her suffer that heartache; able to do nothing more than standby and watch as he slipped away from her. She’d already been through so much during their time together, and he was adamant that he would NOT put that kind of stress and burden on her.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this,” Tyler says now, and she lifts her head and cracks open an eye to confirm that he’s still speaking to Yaz. “You need to fucking relax. I’ve got shit under control. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer.”

Nodding in agreement, she once more settles against him. Fingers abandoning one tattoo for another; tips slowly tracing the outline of the ink that graces his right shoulder. She’d long ago memorized their placements and sizes; able to locate them -and every scar- with her eyes closed. Each one tells a different story; testaments to moments of both tremendous loss and blessing. His time in SARS, the death of his son, and the steps he’d taken on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. And each new life that has come into the world since he was given his second chance; beautiful little human beings that he’d helped create and even now isn’t quite sure he deserves. Truth be told, he actually deserves the world; battling past every obstacle and defeating every odd in order to give her and their family such an incredible life. It has come with great sacrifice in some respects; more injuries to add to an already lengthy list, mental health issues that threaten to swallow him whole each and every day. But he keeps going. Even on those mornings when he only gets out of bed because he knows how much she and the children need him to.

“You know, you’re keeping me a hell of a long time,” Tyler informs Yaz. “You’re starting to piss off the boss. The REAL boss.”

Esme grins. “Oh you’re admitting it, are you? Only took you fifteen years.”

“You’re cutting in on her naked time. And the wife HATES when anyone cuts in on her naked time. Ow!” He swats her hand away when she flicks the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger. “I gotta go. Before she really hurts me. There’s good pain and then there’s…”

She leans close to the phone in order for her friend to hear her. “Don’t listen to him! He enjoys pain. My brand of it, anyway! And speaking of pain, if you’re even thinking of taking him away from this honeymoon, you’re going to have to come here and pry him out of my cold, dead arms.”

“No one is going anywhere,” Tyler assures her. “Someone just needed their hand held and walked through everything. Before they had a stroke. Everything’s okay now, Yaz? You’re not shitting yourself anymore? Because if you call me on my honeymoon one more time…”

“I just needed to hear shit from you! I just needed you to tell me that you’ve got everything under control. I just needed…”

“Me to say I was on top of things. Well I am. And in a few minutes, I’m going to be on top of something else. Or should I say ‘someone else’.”

“Oh my god, Tyler!” Esme scolds, and playfully slaps his chest. “What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s what I want to get into YOU.”

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she yanks at his earlobes and then attempts to slide off his lap. Laughing when he curls an arm around her waist in order to keep her firmly in place; a small yelp escaping her lips when his teeth aggressively nip at the side of her neck. Her eyes closing and her head resting upon him once more; dragging a fingertip along the line of his jaw before placing her hand flat against his chest. His skin warm and smooth and his heartbeat strong against her palm; the pad of her thumb repeatedly brushing across one of the scars that serve as a souvenir of the hell he’d walked through in Dhaka fifteen years before. The surgeon’s initial attempt to fix his left lung; hopeful they could remove the bullet fragments and repair any nicks and tears in arteries or veins without opening him up even further. What they believed would be an easy fix had turned into a nightmare; the damage far more extensive than originally thought and a more invasive and risky procedure desperately needed. It was during that ‘patch up job’ that he’d coded twice; those minutes without oxygen causing the initial brain injury. Despite the scare, he’d made it through the surgery; minus a part of his lung and nothing but predictions when it came to how the damage to his brain would affect him in the long term.

They’d tried their best to instil fear and doubt; doctors constantly telling her that she should just walk away instead of ‘wasting her life’. After all, they couldn’t guarantee he’d even breathe on his own once brought out of the medically induced coma. Was that the kind of ending she wanted to witness? Spending weeks sleeping at a man’s beside only to see him painfully pass away moments after being taken off the machines keeping his damaged body alive? In their shared opinion, she deserved better; she was young and beautiful and could find someone else and make another life for herself. Even if he did survive, did she really want to be taking care of him? The brain damage could be too great, and the weeks tending to him would turn into months and months into years. And she would have spent all that time being a nurse and personal support worker and not TRULY living. Why would she want to do that to herself? Sentence herself to a difficult and trying and emotionally devastating existence?

She’d refused to cave under the pressure being heaped upon her. Fighting tooth and nail for him to receive the treatment that he deserved. They weren’t going to give up on him. She simply wouldn’t allow it. And she battled with every bit of energy she had within her; ensuring him the best possible care available and not allowing them to give him anything less. He hadn’t walked through hell and made amends for past mistakes only to have his second chance torn away from him. A man so willing to give up his life in order to save two others. There was no way in hell she was letting anyone doubt him and she’d become the ‘patient advocate’ from hell; staff dreading the messages that she wanted face to face meetings and specialists cowering in fear the second someone tiny and seemingly fragile raised her voice in their presence. And in the end, she’d been victorious; Tyler receiving the care he deserved and a transfer to Australia when he was stable enough to endure it.

Any thought of abandoning him had never crossed her mind. Even during the initial days after when she was warned he likely wouldn’t make it, she refused to leave his side. If he WAS going to die, she was going to make sure he wasn’t alone when it happened. She’d made the decision to stick by him no matter the moment she’d stayed behind on the bridge in Dhaka. Aware that there’d be no way of turning back and that life as she'd known it was over; the old Esme ceasing to exist and replaced with a much stronger and confident one. There’d been no guarantee either of them would survive; no way of knowing how long it would be before Asif sent yet another team and they’d be discovered. And there’d been no promise that anyone was coming to rescue them; Ovi already on his way to safety and freedom while Tyler continued to bleed out on the dirty, bullet ridden concrete. And that’s what she had concentrated on; not the possibility of being caught and held captive and subjected to horrible treatment and abuse before finally being killed. Keeping Tyler alive had been her priority and the only thing that had mattered in those long and terrifying moments. He HAD to survive. The universe could never be that cruel to one man; allowing him to make amends for the mistakes he’d made but not awarding him a second chance.

And there’d been a selfish motivator for what she’d done as well. She had wanted more time with him; those five days in that cramped and squalid hotel room simply not enough. Extending far beyond just the sexual need and want and desperation that he’d so easily brought out of her; enjoying the smell of his skin and the taste of his lips and the way his body felt pressed up against hers. No man had ever made her feel the things he had. Certainly not that quickly. And maybe not ever. Recognizing the initial stirrings of love and then finding herself completely drowning in something so profound and terrifying. Believing it was all too much too soon yet unable to stop it from happening; finding herself effortlessly drawn in by those brilliant blue eyes and that slow, easy smile and the way the sound of his voice made her pulse race and her heart flutter.

She’d wanted more of that. Not just the passion and the pleasure, but those moments afterwards; indulging in those long, quiet conversations while naked bodies lay caught up in a mess of tangled sheets. Those moments where he completely let his guard down and let her see him for who he truly was; a broken and grieving man suffocating under the immense weight of self loathing. The way his face would soften when he listened to her speak about her own past; gracefully and selflessly helping her carry the mountains of baggage that had burdened her for so long. Her fragile emotions never scaring him away yet bringing out a side to him that very few -if any- got to see; enormous, calloused hands gently cradling her face as the pads of his thumbs brushed away her tears.. A man who’d seen, heard, and done things many people could never imagine; the horrors of war and the necessities of the job and the personal choices and sacrifices that led to his exile in the outback. Yet there’d been a startling amount of compassion and humanity buried underneath that rough exterior; a tenderness and a patience tugged in between all those ragged and worn edges.

And THAT was what had drawn in her. The juxtaposition between the different sides of Tyler Rake; the tattooed and scarred mercenary that had possessed a hell of a lot of compassion and integrity for a man that often took lives in exchange for money. He didn’t enjoy what he did; brutalizing and killing nothing more than a means to an end. He didn’t brag about his legendary status or his kill sheet and didn’t take pride in the amount of blood that stained his hands and conscience. And despite the way he viewed himself and the death wish that threatened to eat away at him from the inside out, he wasn’t the monster he believed he was. He was a big man with an even bigger heart. And he’d been in desperate need for someone to come along and remind him of that fact that he was still very much alive.

(ends the call with Yaz. They sit in silence. Her fingers still exploring and tracing tattoos and scars, his chin on the top of her head, a palm on the middle of her back, fingertips of the other hand repeatedly grazing along her thigh. Back arches when they pass over the back of her knee and up further. Giving a small yelp when he pinches her ass, pouting at him. He pecks her lips)

“You didn’t have to come out. I was eventually going to get back to you.”

“I know how Yaz goes on and on when he’s in a mood. I also know he has a tendency to get on your last nerve when he does. So I thought I’d make an appearance; in case I needed to diffuse things.”

“Nothing to diffuse. He wasn’t as insufferable as usual. Just a little…neurotic.”

“Being neurotic is my thing. I’m not sharing it. I would say Yaz is more paranoid than anything. Second the smallest thing goes wrong, he’s freaking out. What was it this time? Troubles with communications? Some of the guys not pulling their weight? Extra supplies needed? Or did he just need to go on a good old-fashioned vent?”

“It was a couple things. That YOU don’t need to worry about.”

“It doesn’t work that way Tyler James. You should know that by now. I can’t NOT worry. That’s not who I am. And the more you say I shouldn’t…”

“The more you do. But this time, there really isn’t anything to worry about. Yaz just got a little worked up about how things are going. He’s a little stressed. It’s his first big job to oversee on his own and he’s feeling a little overwhelmed. And it’s not my guys causing the issues, either. They’re fine. Just tired. I’m sending in some reinforcements. Give them a bit of a break.”

“You already have a team of ten there. And that’s not including tech people. That’s the biggest team you’ve ever sent anywhere. Is sending more guys strictly precautionary or are things that bad or…?”

“It’s only K and Koen. Not another whole team. Just two bodies. And I’d like to get a better handle on things over there. They’re getting a little out of hand and I’d rather get on top of it now before it DOES get worse.”

“And let me take a wild guess…” The fingertips of one hand trace the line of his jaw. “...Mikhail is being a total fuck ass.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because he IS a total fuck ass. I’ve met him, remember? At those fancy parties he’s thrown. With the bottles of champagne that cost more than some peoples’ cars and the snobby women just dripping in diamonds. He’s just a pompous jerk. And thinks he’s God’s gift to the female population. The way he gets all flirty and handsy and…” She gives a dramatic shudder. “He’s just a fuck ass.”

“He got handsy with you?”

“A little. Nothing I couldn’t handle on my own. Just untwisting the straps on my dress and pushing my hair over my shoulder. And giving a little too many compliments about my ass and my ‘shape’.”

“I will fucking get on the next plane to Russia and kill that sonofabitch.”

“You just don’t like any man that flirts with me. You don’t like when they pay attention to me. You get all hot and bothered. And not in the good, sexy way.”

“Do you like when other women come onto me? All those thirsty bitches back home? I seem to remember a lot of bitching and moaning over the past few years. You don’t seem to like it when they show me attention.”

“That’s because they’re just right out there with it. It isn’t just harmless flirting. They’re commenting on your ass and your bulge and they’re handing you phone numbers and…”

“Which I automatically rip up,” he reminds her. “In front of them.”

“And they talk all kinds of shit about me. All that crap about me being ugly and fat and how they don’t know why someone like you would be with someone like me.”

“You give great head. I already told them that.”

Esme frowns.

“Well you do. It’s the truth. I’ve also told them that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world and the mother of the kids and the love of my life. And that nothing they do…no matter how hard they try…will ever change any of that.”

“Sweet talker,” she chides, and leans in to peck his lips.

“You need to not worry so much about them. Who did I marry? TWICE. Who did I have eight kids with? None of them.”

“You’ve just blessed me with a bounty of riches, I’ll tell you what. And you know what? I know I shouldn’t worry about them. Because I know that no matter what bullshit they pull, you’re never going to fall for it. In the same way you shouldn’t worry about men flirting with me. Which in no way happens as often as you get flirted with.”

“That’s bullshit and you know that. It happens all the time. Even when I’m out with you. I see how guys look at you. I’ve gone back to the car to get something and have come back to them trying to pick you up.”

“And what do I always say to them?”

“My husband is big and mean and is more than capable of ripping you in two with his bare hands.”

“Okay, I say THAT too. But I also tell them that I am very happily married. And wildly and crazily in love with you. And it’s going to stay that way. Until my very last breath. Which is exactly told that fuck ass when he tried to get too cozy. I may have also threatened to tell you. He looked like he might have shit his pants. When I said I’d get you involved.”

“You should have. Gotten me involved.”

“You would have lost your shit and caused a big old thing at the fancy party. Besides, I handled it on my own. Now he avoids me. Although I’m sure he talks shit about me.”

“Not to me he doesn’t. He knows better.”

“He’s definitely scared of you,” Esme concludes, and runs a nail along the leather cord he sports around his neck, pinching its copper pendant between index finger and thumb. “And even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to get on your bad side, something tells me that he’s starting to push things. Just a little.”

Smoothing hair away from the sides of her face, he presses a kiss to her brow. “Damn, you’re good.”

“I had a feeling he was causing issues. And that Yaz was stressing about it. What’s going on? And please don’t say ‘nothing you need to worry about’. Because this involves you and I worry about you so…”

“He’s just being a little overbearing. Coming around a little too much. Asking too many questions.”

“Didn’t you tell him NOT to? I’m pretty sure I remember you telling him…more than once…to just stay away and let the guys work. What’s his issue? Doesn’t like the way things are being handled?”

“Apparently not.” Wrapping both arms around her, he locks his hands together and rests them on her hip. “Guess he’s been showing up a lot. Bitching about the way things are going. Trying to change them around. Guess it’s not quite good enough for him.”

“Well maybe he should have thought about that before he started stepping on toes over there. If he’d just stayed on his own turf and minded his own business and not tried to take things over…”

“These are mob people we’re talking about, Me. Trying to take over someone else’s shit is all they know. They’re not exactly operating on logic and reason. Been that way for hundreds of years. If not thousands. It’ll ever change.”

“On one hand I want to say ‘Fuck them. Let them kill each other’. On the other, it is guys like that that keep you in business. Or at least provided a big chunk of it. What’s there for him to bitch about? You planned things out months ago. You’re meticulous when it comes to drawing up missions. You always have been. What’s there to have issues with?”

“He doesn’t think things are being handled properly. Thinks all of this should have come to an end two weeks ago.”

“You’ve only had people there for three. For the size of the shit storm he caused? It’s going to take a hell of a lot longer than a couple of weeks to fix things.”

“Which is exactly what he’s been told. Many times. But he’s showing up unannounced and he’s trying to make changes and he’s freaking Yaz out and he’s confusing the hell out of the guys. No one seems to know if they’re coming or going.”

“You know, I don’t usually get involved with anything to do with the business and you normally don’t talk about it this much and I hate what I’m about to say…”

“But…”

“Maybe I should just stay out of it. You’re the boss. You’re more than capable of running things. This business is your baby.”

“You’re still part owner,” Tyler reminds her. “Which means you have a say in these things. Whether you want to or not. And seeing as I am talking about more than usual and you seem pretty invested in what’s going on, I’d like to hear what you think. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I was just going to say that if the guys are that easily swayed and intimidated, maybe they’re not the right guys to have there. If Mikhail is going to walk in and try taking over and they’re just going to bend over for him…”

“I don’t think they’ll do THAT. I just think he scares them a bit. Unnerves them. Like you said, he’s a fuck ass.”

“They’re not the right people to have in that situation if they’re that jumpy about things. You’re the boss. They should be listening to YOU. Regardless of who is trying to convince them otherwise. And if they’re questioning that…”

“I can’t pull them all out and send in a whole new team. Plus reserves. I don’t have that many people to spare. I’ve got guys all over the world working on things. That I can’t take them off.”

“Maybe Anil has some people. That he wouldn’t mind lending. Because if the ones you have over there are that spooked? Tyler, that’s not good. You know it as well as I do. If not better. Having people that fragile on the job will only lead to disaster. We’ve seen it. First hand. And you’ve been through it. With the end results not being very pleasant.”

He nods as slowly as he considers her words, then briefly closes his eyes; head falling back against the chair cushion. It’s been a long time since they’ve discussed -in depth- anything to do with the job; Esme perfectly content with remaining a silent partner and not knowing the dirty and bloody details of any of the missions. And he prefers it that way; not saddling her with the burden of mercenary life and the stress and the unpredictability that accompanies it. Her mental health is fragile enough without testing it further; therapy still needed to cope with the finally diagnosed PTSD from both Dhaka and Nathan and the trauma that she’d suffered at the hands of Mark. And while he’d long ago made a promise not to keep things from her in order to protect, sometimes silence truly is golden.

The less she knows, the better.

His eyes open as she shifts position on his thighs, straddling his lap with a knee beside either hip. And reaching up, he loops wayward strands of hair behind her ears and places his palms on her shoulders.

“I’m just worried,” Esme explains. “About you. And no, I can’t stop no matter how many times you tell me to. I’m heading into my sixteenth year of worrying about you, Tyler. I happen to be a wife that gives a shit about her husband. In case you haven’t noticed, I kinda like you. And I kinda like having you around.”

With a grin playing on his lips, he slides his hands down her back and settles them just above her ass. “Kinda, huh?”

“Just a bit,” she teasingly concedes. “And if you’re having bad vibes about this job…”

“No bad vibes. I’m just not happy about having someone trying to take things over. I didn’t get this far in the game by NOT knowing what I’m doing.”

“Then put him in his place. Tell him to back off. Your track record speaks for itself, right? Both before the business and since its conception. Tell him to ever knock off his shit or get someone else on the job. It’s not like you really need the money. And it’s not like we can’t afford to pay the guys what they’re owed. Sometimes it’s just better to cut your losses and walk away.”

“I don’t think things are at that point yet. But if he keeps pushing his luck…”

“He talks a big game, but he really is afraid of you. He knows not to cross you, Tyler. Everyone in this business knows not to. He thinks he has problems now? Imagine if he tried to fuck around and find out? Things would not end well with him.”

“I’m not quite at my wit’s end, babe. Almost. But not quite. And I’ve already told him to watch his step. To just stay out of the way and let my guys work. I’m not a rookie, remember?”

“I wasn’t suggesting you are. I’m just trying to help, I guess. Come up with some solutions BEFORE things get out of hand.”

“You know what I think? I think you need to stop thinking about this so much. I mean, I know it’s partly my fault because I DID bring it up…”

“Like I said, I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you stressing yourself out over this. Over HIM. There’ll be other jobs. LOTS more. If you have to just pull the plug on things…”

“Tell you what…” His hands slide over her hips and along the tops of her thighs. “...you let me worry about what’s going on over there and…”

“You wanted to talk about it. You brought it up. I’m just…”

“Trying to help. I know. And I appreciate it. I just don’t want you freaking yourself out. Worrying about things that haven’t even happened yet. I’m not going anywhere, Me. I’m staying right here. With you. On our honeymoon. That’s really what you’re worried about, yeah? All of this being too good to be true. Something bad popping up and ruining it.”

“I just have a really uneasy feeling,” she admits. “About this whole thing. And now you’re telling me that Mikhail is trying to undermine you and the guys are confused and..”

“And I told Yaz what to say. He’s actually pretty good at putting people in their place. When he’s not being a neurotic mess. Just like someone else I know.”

Frowning, she leans in to press a kiss to his lips. “You just think you’re so cute, don’t you.”

“I don’t know about that. But I know YOU think I’m cute.”

“Among other things. And not all nice, by the way. I don’t think too highly of you when you leave your dirty underwear and socks all over the place. Or when you leave the toilet seat up. And your snoring…”

“I must not drive you THAT crazy. You married me. Twice.”

“Against my better judgment,” she teases, and yelps when his fingers pinch her ass cheeks through the fabric of her shirt. “You know I’m just kidding. Giving you a hard time.” Her arms circle his neck and her thighs clamp against his torso as he stands. “You know that I love you. That I’m IN LOVE with you. Hopelessly, desperately, wildly in love.”

“What ever happened to the old Esme?” He chides, and crosses the patio, terracotta tiles smooth and cold against the bottom of his feet. “ The one that used to get easily bored and would just drop guys because they started getting on her nerves?”

“You make it sound like I went through a shit ton of guys!”

“Sorry. Guys AND girls.”

“There wasn’t a lot, you know. Less than six on either side. Which isn’t bad considering the numbers other women put up by the time they’re twenty-nine. Which was when we met. I wasn’t quite thirty yet, remember?”

“Brain damaged, not brain dead,” he reminds her.

“Up until you, everyone DID bore me. You were different. You were a challenge. You didn’t give too much away right off the hop. And if I wanted to learn more and see more, I had to bide my time and let it happen. So that’s what I did. Look…” She laughs when he drops her unceremoniously onto the patio’s double sun lounger. “...just because YOU were a total whore…”

“I was a good boy.” He places one knee on the chair’s cushion and the other on the ground. “Until I wasn’t.”

“Until you decided to sow your wild oats all over the place. Have all kinds of women in different ports of call. You slut.”

“Worked out for you though, didn’t I? Think I’d know half the stuff I do if it wasn’t for my slutty period?”

“Touché Hey!” She slaps his hands away when he reaches for the buttons on her shirt. “I wasn’t finished yet!”

“With what?”

“The conversation we were having. Not about you and your skanky ways. About what’s going on. In Russia.”

“You may not have been done. But I was.” He manages to unfasten the first three buttons, then frowns when she yanks the shirt out of his grasp and holds it closed. “Are you cock blocking me?”’

“Temporarily. Can we please finish what we were talking about? I know all your tricks, Tyler Rake. I know all the ways you try to get out of tough conversations. I know how you start to deflect when you’re getting uncomfortable. And usually plying me with the promise of sex works, but…”

“I wasn’t getting uncomfortable. I was getting irritated.”

“With me?”

“No. With everything else. Everyone else. This isn’t what I wanted. Having to even think about the job while we’re here. This was supposed to be about us. An actual honeymoon. After fifteen years and eight kids. I don’t want the job fucking this up for us. For YOU.”

“It’s not fucking anything up,” she promises, as she drags her nails down the length of his fingers and then places her hands over his. “I guess I just need you to reassure me. That things aren’t as bad as my brain is making them out to be. That you’re not going anywhere and things are going to get under control and…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Me. I already promised you that. And that’s not a promise I’m going to break. I don’t do that shit anymore. I’m not going away.”

“Not unless it’s really necessary?”

“It would have to be life or death, babe. And we’re nowhere near that kind of disaster. It’s just that nerves are raw and the guys are tired and they’re getting pissed that Mikhail is being such a…”

“Fuck ass,” Esme finished for him.

“It’s just a little shaky right now. Things are a little unstable. But it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“And you think Koen and K are capable of fixing it?”

“I’m pretty confident they can.”

“And if they can’t?”

“Then I get on the phone or on Zoom and handle things. I don’t need to be there to put Mikhail in his place. I can do just as much damage through a call or an online meeting that I could in person. I need you to stop worrying about this, okay?” Sliding a hand up the bottom of her shirt, he softly and repeatedly grazes his knuckles across her stomach. A small offering of comfort; traveling from hip to the other and back again. “It’s not THAT bad. I’d tell you if it was. You know I would.”

“Promise me you’ll step away. If you feel that things are going that wrong over there. If you start feeling really uneasy, just bring everyone home. Pull them all out and tell Mikhail to get someone else. Tell him you don’t feel comfortable continuing. That it wasn’t the job you signed up for and he’s obviously not happy with how things are going and…”

“You want me to piss off a Russian crime lord.”

“Not if you can help it. But if your instincts start to tell you that something is not right and shit is going to go really bad…”

“You really think he’d let me just walk away? Pull the plug on things? Me, you’ve worked with people like this. Even WORSE than this. Before we met. You went up against some pretty scary people. Would any of them just let someone quit and walk away?”

“No. But…”

“Guys like this don’t let you walk. You know that. And you know what will happen if I try to. It won’t be me that he comes for. Not at first. It’ll be you and the kids. And I can’t let that happen. I can’t give him a reason to do something like that. I just can’t.”

“But if you just talk to him and explain that you’re not happy and he’s obviously not happy…”

“Esme, you know it’s not that easy. That he wouldn’t just say ‘okay’ and let me go. I took the contract. Signed on the dotted line Now I gotta see it through.”

“I don’t want you going there. Not today or tomorrow or next week. Or ever. I don’t want…”

“Come here.” Removing his hand from beneath her shirt, he carefully and gingerly maneuvers his body over hers; lying down on his back beside her. And he wraps both arms around her; pressing a kiss to her brow before drawing her tightly into him. . “We’re going to talk about this and then that’s it. We’re not going to talk about it again. Because I don’t want this hanging over us and ruining the time we have here. Sound good?”

She nods.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He implores. “In that pretty little head of yours. I know none of it’s good right now.”

“I don’t want to ruin our honeymoon. I don’t…”

“Just talk to me, Esme. Please. We’ve been doing so good with that. Over the past couple of years. Talking about anything. And everything. Let’s not go back to where we were before. Keeping all kinds of shit from one another. I don’t want to be that couple again. Ever. Do you?”

“Of course not. But I also don’t want to irritate you or piss you off or…”

“I’m not going to get irritated or pissed off. Not if you tell me what’s going on. Now if you don’t tell me and you spend the next week and a half brooding over shit, yeah. I’m going to get upset. So tell me. Please.”

Sighing, she places her chin upon his chest; a pout curving her lips as a fingertip traces the tattoo on the side of his neck. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“You going there.”

“Because of what might happen to me or…?”

“It’s a mixture of things. I always worry about something happening to you. Something going wrong and you getting hurt. Or worse. And not being able to get you home. You know that’s my worst fear. Having to leave you somewhere. And if something happens to you…”

“Baby, you think you’d be used to this. It’s been fifteen years. I was a mercenary when we met. By now I thought this would be old hat for you. That you wouldn’t get so torn up about it. Instead it just seems like it’s getting worse. Should be getting better, don’t you think?”

“It’s not that I can’t handle what you do. Because yes; I did go into a life with you knowing what you did for a living. And I definitely don’t doubt your skills or your instincts or how strong you are or how you’d fight like hell to get home. Just the thought of anything happening to you…I just…” She swipes at the tears that manage to escape. “...I don’t think I could handle it. We’ve had way too many close calls, Tyler. I don’t want anymore. I don’t want you to see you all torn up and shot up and close to death. I can’t do that again.”

“Nothing says that it’s going to come to that. That I’ll even have to go anywhere.”

“And I’m scared to be alone,” she admits. “With the kids. Not that I’m worried that I’ll snap and do something to them or myself or that I can’t take care of them properly. But you’ve been home for three years now. Almost four. Since Mark. You’ve been home full time for all of Tasman’s life. That’s all he knows; daddy always home with him. I mean, you’ve handled things with the business. But you haven’t had to go anywhere. And if you do…”

“Koen and Stel would be there. They live on our property. They’re our family. They’re…”

“That’s not the same. I love them. Dearly. But they’re not YOU.”

“Esme…”

“I’ve had you home for all this time.” Her hands anxiously fidget with his necklace. “Because I’ve been struggling. You know how badly the whole thing with Mark really screwed me up. I couldn’t even really enjoy being pregnant with Taz; all I did was worry that something terrible was going to happen to him. Or that someone was going to come for us. For three plus years, I’ve had you right there. To help me through things. When I had panic attacks, you were there to help calm me down. If I had nightmares, you were always able to bring me out of them.”

While her brutal honesty hurts to hear, he hides it well. It’s a pain that’s reserved solely for her; therapy helping him deal with the regret and guilt that had haunted him since the moment Mark’s people had laid their hands on her. Sometimes it’s still there; the second guessing of the decisions he’d made leading up to the moment she’d been taken. Logically he knows he’d done everything he could; keeping her sheltered safely inside while he checked out a possible threat. In the same way he knows he’d fought like hell to protect her; only giving in to their demands to calm her down when it became apparent that the more either of them resisted the worse the outcome would be. Giving them the control had ensured her survival. At least on that night. But while he’s learned to cope with the lingering issues and trauma, it breaks his heart when hers resurfaces; hating the bad dreams and anxiety and the fear of strangers that sometimes come back to haunt her.

Running a palm over her hair, he tugs gently on the dark tresses; encouraging her to look up at him. “You were doing so good with it. You haven’t had a panic attack or a nightmare in almost a year. You…”

“Because you’ve been there. Because having you here…at home…with me…is my safety net. My security blanket.. I never feel scared of those things…those monsters…when you’re around. Because I know they can’t touch me because you’re there to chase them away. Because I know you’d never let anything happen to me. And if you’re gone…”

“I already told you. I’m not going anywhere. Even if I do have to step in, all I gotta do is get on the phone or the computer and…:

“You don’t know that. That THAT will be enough. If things get really bad, there’s no a phone call or a Zoom meeting will do the trick. And then you’ll have to go there and…”

“Esme…” Cupping the back of her head, he presses a kiss to her brow. “...settle down. You’re getting yourself worked out for no reason. I’ve already told you. More than once. Things are not as bad as you're making them up to be. I need you to just take a breath, okay? Just take a breath and regroup and…”

“I can’t do it, Tyler. I can’t watch you walk out the door and then spend every night worrying about whether I’m ever going to see you again. There’s been too much of that. Too many nights like that. And there’s just so much at stake. So much for you to lose. And when I think about having to do this life without you…”

“You need to stop thinking about that. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got things under control. They’re handled. I wouldn’t be telling you that if they weren’t. I’m not lying, I’m not trying to hide anything from you, I’m not trying to spare your feelings. Things aren’t going to plan, but they’re not going to complete shit either. You need to believe me. You need to TRUST me.”

“I do believe. And I do trust you. You’re the only person I really DO trust. But I’m scared. Of not being able to cope when you’re going. If things start to get to hell and my safety net…my rock…isn’t there.”

“You know what we’re going to do? As soon as we get home? We’re going to call Doctor Klein and we’re going to get you in to talk to him and you can tell HIM all this. Tell him that you’re having a hard time again. Talk about what said it off. Because I can only say so much, babe. I can only tell you so many times that things are going to be okay. Your brain doesn’t like to listen to me on the bad days. Shit, it barely listens on the GOOD days.”

She manages a small laugh. “Smart ass.”

“I’m sorry if bringing it up and talking about it set things off for you. That’s not what I wanted. I just wanted us to be able to talk about things. Openly. Honestly. I definitely mean for you to lose your shit. And I’m sorry. If I caused this. I didn’t…”

“It’s not you, Tyler. It’s never been you. And you KNOW that. I just have this really bad feeling. About this entire thing. And maybe that’s just me being paranoid. Or neurotic. Or overprotective. But I can’t help it. I can’t stop feeling this way. It’s just…I don’t know…it doesn’t feel right. At all.”

“And what would make it feel right? Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I don’t know. I just know that something is ‘off’. About this entire thing. And the thought of you going over there…”

“How many times have you told you? Just in the past hour alone. I’m not going ANYWHERE. I’m here. With you. And this is where I’m staying. Just tell me what you need from me, babe. Tell me what you need to hear. Or what you want me to do. I’ll say anything. I’ll DO anything.”

“I want you to tell me that you’ll quit. Pull the plug and bring everyone home. If you start to get the feeling that things are falling apart. Because I’d rather you do that and us deal with the consequences than you never come from there. That’s all I want. You to walk away if you get even the slightest feeling that things won’t end well.”

“And if Mikhail doesn’t take that well? If he decides that I need to pay for my decision? Then what? When he comes after you and after my kids. What do I do then?”

“Protect us. Like you’ve always done. I’m not worried about it. I know what you’re capable of. Especially when it comes to threats against your family. You’d fight back and you’d send a pretty clear message not to fuck with you. I’m not even the slightest bit concerned about that. But I am concerned about you going there and never coming back.”

“I think we need to let this go. For now. Until we get home. Because dwelling on it like this? Constantly thinking about shit that COULD happen? It’s gonna drive you crazy, Me. It’s going to eat you alive and I don’t want that.”

“I just need you to promise me, Tyler. Your instincts are never wrong, right?”

“It’s extremely rare that they are.”

“Then just listen to them. And trust them. If they start telling you this is some bad shit and you need to leave it be, then you do that. Just say ‘fuck it’ and move on. Mikhail can find someone else. Not someone as good as you, but someone who can still get the job done. That’s all I want. For you to look me in the eye and promise me that you’ll walk away. If your instincts start telling you to.”

Cradling her face in his palms, he presses a feathery kiss to the bridge of her nose.. “I promise. If it comes to me having to go there and I’m starting to get a bad feeling about things, I will pull the plug. I’ll come home. No hesitations.”

“I just want you to be safe. That’s all I want. You safe and sound.”

“I’m going to be fine,” he assures her, and then pecks her lips.

Sliding her body further up the lounger, she buries face in her favorite location; tucked between his neck and shoulder. Her arm draped across his collarbone and her fingers easily locating and tracing the various scars left behind by his reconstructive surgery.

He increases his hold on her; as tight as her tiny body will allow. His eyes closing as his cheek comes to rest on the top of her head; one hand on the small of her back and the knuckles of the other repeatedly grazing up and down her spine. Keeping her there…safe and secure…until she drifts off to sleep.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction fan fiction #Tyler and Esme series #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth extraction #Esme Rake #Rake kids #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Tyler Rake x OFC #Extraction/John Wick crossover #John Wick

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