#junior sexy Dance

[wardenparker]

New Year's Surprise

Jack Daniels x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 18.7k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, internalized fatphobia, self esteem issues, pining, meddlesome friends, unwanted attention from a male coworker, light spanking, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Jack likes being scratched up, reader is described as having fingernails long enough to scratch (no specific length given), the love is requited they're just idiots. Summary: Ginger has a plan to get you and Jack to admit you have feelings for each other. She did not anticipate just how well it would work... Notes: Happy almost New Year everyone! Enjoy a little more winter seasonal smut and fluff from us to you 🥂🍾✨

"You're sure it's not too much, Ging?" Turning in front of the full-length mirror in Ginger's apartment, you inspect the glittering black cocktail dress that your friend helped you pick out at the mall during all those after-Christmas sales she promised you that you would find something at. She was right, like she always is, but now that the dress is on you, you're wondering if you haven't made a mistake. If it's not too revealing, or too short, or too tight.

Whoever in HR came up with this insane Cowboys and Flappers theme for the company New Year's Eve party deserved to have their head examined. You're not the femme fatale agent that gets sent out to seduce men and collect their secrets. Few men out there in the world are ever really seduced by the chubby girl in any given scenario, but it did tend to make you invisible. Invisible women can slip in and out of buildings in literally any kind of uniform and get through security without ever being harassed, and that works to your advantage on almost every case. Unfortunately, it also means that for the five years you've been a Statesman agent, you've also been fairly invisible to the man you've developed feelings for.

It’s perfect.” No matter how many times Ginger Ale tells you that you are sexy just the way you are, that insecurity gets the best of you. “I’m telling you, you will have every eye in the place.”

“I doubt it.” You sigh in the mirror and smooth your hands over the sequined dress one more time. “But that’s okay. I don’t want every set of eyes…”

“I know what set of eyes you want on you.” Your taste in men is your own, and Ginger won’t fault you for it, but she wonders why Jack. “It might do the man good to know that he’s got competition.” You don’t believe her when she says that it’s more telling that Jack doesn’t hit on you, but it’s the truth.

“He doesn’t, though.” Shrugging, you turn away from the mirror and decide to just go on with the night. Wishing won’t make it real and Jack Daniels barely looks at you. Even though you’ve partnered on cases, spend time together in and out of the office, and are arguably friends in every true sense? You’ve always wanted more with him. The only person who knows is Ginger, though, and you prefer to keep it that way since Jack will never return your affection. “And that’s…it is what it is. Even if you’re the only person I dance with tonight, it’ll still be fun.”

“Wearing that dress?” Ginger snorts as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have the faith for both of us, how about that?” She knows that Jack won’t be able to resist you tonight, not when she’s lined up a few of the junior agents to dance with you already. It’s time that Jack settles down and finds some happiness, and what better time than the New Year?

******

While you easily could have had the party at Statesman considering the size of the grounds, Champ wouldn’t hear of it. He’s hosting the damn thing himself come hell or high water, in his favourite suit with his wife dressed to the 9’s in her flapper dress, and more caterers than you’ve ever seen in your life all making his early twentieth century coal baron’s mansion look as resplendent as the day it was built. The place is palatial, with a ballroom so big that the band he’s hired looks tiny in one corner despite being six-men strong. It’s music and liquor and appetizers passing by on trays when you and Ginger walk through the door, and you gasp at how nice it all looks.

“I know he does it every year,” you sigh to your best friend. “But the theme is always different and I swear somehow the house always looks better on new year’s.”

“Champ does know how to throw one hell of a party.” She agrees, snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter as she walks by. Her own sleek flapper dress is a vivid purple, making her beautiful skin glow and for tonight, she’s wearing contacts. Her short hair is perfectly styled, a cap like illusion, highlighted with the crystal headband she’s picked. “To a New Year we will never forget.” She hands you one glass and adds, “or regret.”

“You’re certainly optimistic.” You flash her and grin and tap the rim of your glass against hers. “Finally going to talk to Alicia or is this just positive vibes?” It’s been two years since Ginger started crushing on the woman who supervises Statesman campus tours and visitor experience, but she hasn’t made a move yet. Being frozen in place with someone you care about is something the two of you have in common.

“Positive vibes.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. “Look! There’s Tequila!” She waves the younger agent over to where you are standing. “You made it! Didn’t think you were ever gonna get back from Brazil, or if you wanted to.” She adds with a grin.

“Those are two very different questions.” Tequila agrees with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Did he have to come back? Sure. But did he want to leave the comfort and luxury of that beautiful woman’s bed? Not at all. “But I would not have missed dancing with you ladies for the world,” he adds with a wink. He’s very much in on Ginger’s plan, after all, and is looking forward to the fireworks it will bring.

You fluster slightly at his words, but Ginger knows that you don’t have your cap set on Tequila. You just don’t handle compliments well. “You’ll have to get in line.” Ginger warns him with a smirk. “As good as Rye looks tonight, every man in here is going to want a dance. After I dance with her first.”

“Well I reckon I’ll have to be second, then.” Tequila puts in a playful pout. “But only because I would never deny Miss Ginger Ale gettin to be first.” He smiles again and tips his hat, having opted to wear his best Stetson with an elegant Kingsman suit. “You don’t have to,” you insist, knowing Tequila always has more choices of dance and bedroom partners than he could ever feasibly make his way through. “I’m sure you have other people you want to dance with tonight.”

“No one important.” Tequila smirks as he drags his eyes up and down your outfit and whistles slowly. “And no one nearly as pretty.” He promises.

“Liar.” Though you roll your eyes at him, you don’t protest anymore than that. He’s your friend, after all. And if he wants to waste his time dancing with you, you’ll just enjoy it. Tequila’s a fantastic dancer, after all.

“Never lie to you, honey.” Tequila croons, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips. “Lie about what?” The voice comes from your left and all eyes swing that way.

“Jack!” Normally you know he’s coming. The smell of earthy, expensive cologne and the tap-click-shuffle of his boots on polished floors. The soft humming he gets up to when he’s pleased with himself, not quite melodic but endearing because it means he’s happy. But you sensed none of that just now, too caught up in the band playing and the fragrant flowers and the tickle of bubbly in your nose and throat. “Nothing. We were just talking about dancing…” He looks like a dream, and it makes you sick to your stomach and elated all at once. Another night of watching him fawn over every woman but you is what you’ve resigned yourself to putting up with, but it’s just rude of him to look so damn handsome in that black velvet double breasted suit and sleek black Stetson while he does it.

“Dancing, hum?” His eyes narrow slightly at the grip Tequila has on your hand and he wants to reach out and slap it away, but he just shoots everyone an easy grin. “Ready to cut a rug tonight, eh?”

"I guess so." The shyness that threatens to shoot straight through you is knocked off kilter by Ginger, who hoots in response. "She's got her dance card all filled up already, Whiskey. Should've gotten here earlier," she tells him with a smirk.

His mustache ticks, it’s the only change to his facial expression. “I’m sure Rye can squeeze me in.” His dark amber eyes slide over to you and swipe up and down your body. “Can’t you, sugar?”

"Of course." You'd throw over the whole goddamn list for him. Besides, you have no idea what Ginger could possibly mean by saying your 'card' is full. One dance with her and one with Tequila isn't a full anything. "Of course I can."

“Good. Then how about I refresh you ladies’ drinks?” Jack asks, slapping Tequila on the back a little rougher than necessary. “Come help me with that.”

"Sure." Tequila grunts, throwing you a confused expression like he can't figure out why the hell Jack needs help getting champagne when waiters with trays are everywhere, but he shoots Ginger a secret smirk before following Jack into the next room where the open bar is set up.

“Tonight will be perfect.” Ginger predicts with a smug grin as she watches the two men walk towards the open bar. .

“What the hell are you doin’, flirtin’ with Rye?” Jack’s easy grin falls away and his brows knit together as soon as his back is turned to you. “You know that girl ain’t your type.”

"I can't be nice to my friend?" Tequila asks, pretending to be positively aghast that Jack would suggest he's up to anything else. One hand ever goes to his chest with a dramatic gasp.

Jack’s eyes cut towards the other agent, a frown on his face. “It’s one goddamn thing to be nice, it’s another to flirt.”

"When did I flirt?" The younger agent counters, knowing full well that's what he was doing but not about to admit it because he wants to make Jack stew.

“You were flirtin’ the second you can outta your momma, but you gotta learn there’s certain girls you don’t do that shit with.” Jack growls, stopping in front of the bar and holding up two fingers. “Double 62 Triple Barreled.” He orders, wanting one of the rare whiskeys that Champ had broken out tonight. “And two champagnes.”

"Now, why is that, Jack?" Tequila hums, looking down at his friend. Jack isn't too much shorter than him, but just enough to annoy the older agent on occasion. "Why is Rye one of those girls?"

“Because…” that’s where his argument ends, because there’s not really a reason beyond his own feelings. “It’s…unprofessional.” He decides. “She’s an agent for Christ’s sake.”

Tequila snorts at this string of logic, accepting his drink from the pretty bartender with a wink and sliding a large bill into the tip glass on the bar top before looking back at Jack. "That's a load of horse shit and you know it, Daniels. You fucking know it."

He does know it, but he snatches his own drink up and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He hates that his stomach twists and he wonders if you had been flirting back. Looking over his shoulder at where you are standing, he clenches his jaw at the tassels that are swaying every time you move. “Don’t get her damn hopes up.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “We both know you ain’t gonna fuck her.”

"Nor does she want me to." This is gonna be a hell of a lot easier than he and Ginger thought, if Jack is always so fuckin wound up over you and he only just arrived for the night. "I ain't the one she has her eye on and everybody with eyes knows it."

Jack ignores that, huffing to himself as he tries to hid the fucking jealousy that curls in his gut at whoever you do have your eye on. Lucky son of a bitch. “No fuckin’ talkin’ to you, hardheaded S.O.B.” The champagne glasses are in front of him and he downs the rest of the drink to slap the crystal glass down and snatch up the flutes. Turning around without another word and stalking across the room towards you and Ginger.

It's only one room he has to cross, but by the time he gets there, Agent Brandy has sidled up beside you and Ginger and has his fingers ever so subtly on your elbow while bends his head and puts all his focus directly on you.

Halfway across the room, Jack jerks to a halt and growls, shaking his head as he resumes the walk and forces a moderately friendly smile on his face. “Didn’t think you’d be back from Korea, Don.” He interrupts as he arrives back at your group.

"Two days ago." Brandy flashes a smile in Jack's general direction but keeps his focus on you. "Glad I made it back in time, too. Champ throws a hell of a party."

His eye twitches but Jack nods. “Yeah he does. Shoulda brought that little gal you were seein’. Brandy. Brenda right? Or was it Bambi?” He shrugs. “Maybe all of them at once, knowin’ you.”

"Now don't be unkind, Jack." Brandy's eyes cut over to the older agent and Brandy offers what could be considered a modestly dramatic pout. "Or Rye might think the worst of me and throw me over for that dance I just got promised."

Jack seethes beneath the smile on his face. “Would hate for that to happen.” He lies, handing Ginger one of the glasses and then offers the other to you.

The glass is offered with a smile and you thank Jack, savoring even the tiniest moment of contact between brushing fingers as he hands it over. It's probably bordering on pathetic, how long you've carried this torch for Jack, and it seems like Ginger is really trying to encourage you tonight to come out of your shell tonight but you just don't know. As nice as everyone is being, it doesn't feel right. The only thing that feels right is when you're around Jack. It's just a damn shame that he doesn't feel the same.

It’s almost painful how the simple, innocent touch affects him. Now visceral his reaction is. Only the training that Statesman has given him keeps him from showing anything. “Well,” he hates to tear himself away, but he can’t be around you for too long. “I better go talk to Champ about some cases he wants worked tomorrow.” He offers.

"It's a party," you remind him, smile flickering as he steps back. Obviously the small touch that you'll be savoring for the rest of the night has had the opposite effect on him. But there's no need to show that. Not when it's fully expected that he doesn't want to be around you when there are plenty of other people to talk to and women to dance with. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

“Never do,” he nods at everyone and turns around and skedaddles over to Champ like his pants are on fire.

"Come on," Ginger loops her arm through yours and lends Brandy a smirk that you don't notice — you're too busy trying not to look after Jack. "Let's go dance, honey. The night is young and we are looking far too good not to show off."

Champ eyes Jack as he stops by his side. “Figured you’d have a gal in your arms by now.” He huffs as he reaches out to shake Jack’s hand. “Losing your touch?” Jack snorts. “When have I ever lost my touch?” He asks, pointedly refusing to look back over towards you. “Just surveying my prospects.”

"And how is Agent Rye this evening?" Champ doesn't even have to look to know that that's where Jack has just come from. He blew into the room so quickly that it's the only explanation for the fire in his heels.

“Don’t you start with me.” Jack groans, shaking Champ’s hand and huffing. “Far as I know, she’s dandy.”

"Why should I not start?" Champ knows damn well why not, but he enjoys riling up his friend. "Somebody beat me to the punch?"

“Every-goddamn-body here tonight is actin’ like they’ve never seen the woman in a dress.” He snorts, complaining about it even though he has already memorized the way the damned sequined dress clings to your curves and enhances them in ways that should be criminal. “It’s damned ridiculous and borderline workplace harassment.”

Smirking, Champ pours two glasses of his preferred Statesman 1972 Select, savoring the smoked cherry notes from that particular year. He hands one cut crystal glass over to Jack with his tongue set firmly in his cheek. "You know you'd be a hell of a lot less mad if you just asked the lady to dance your damn self."

The glare Jack cuts Champ is withering and he turns his head as he takes a sip, refusing to rebuff the remark. It seems like everyone is taking the piss with him tonight as Eggsy would say. (edited)

"She's allowed to have fun, ya know." Champ goes on, humming the thought as though the glare Jack just shot him wouldn't have struck a lesser man dead in his tracks. "Damn shame she hasn't set her cap on anyone. Big family dreams, that gal has. Always has. It'll be a damn shame when she finally decides to hang up her pistols and have a family, but I won't let her get farther than the training ring. Too good of an agent to just let her retire."

“Is there a point to your ramblings?” Jack grumbles. “Or are you just spouting shit tonight?”

"Do what I want in my own house." The older man chuckles heartily and claps Jack on one shoulder. "Got a couple of jobs to start the new year with. Come see me tomorrow and we'll figure out which one's yours."

He’s being dismissed and since Champ is also giving him hell, Jack quickly nods and walks off. Trying to walk around the ostentatious ballroom without looking at you. “Hello handsome.” A perfectly manicured hand drapes itself over his shoulder and the scent of gardenias and sandalwood fills his nostrils. “Tiffany.”

Like a bloodhound on a trail, you spot it from across the ballroom without even trying to. Twirling around with Ginger, your eyes catch sight of the gorgeous, skinny, leggy blonde who has let herself drape over Jack's side and you sigh. Deflate is probably the right word, but you remind yourself it was never going to happen anyway and just hold on to Ginger as the song comes to an end.

“What’s a tall, dark, handsome drink of water like you doin’ all by your lonesome?” She purrs, making him hide the wince he had at the put on accent of hers. She’s as southern as tofu and yet she tries to make it sound like she’s grown up around here. Still, she’s a distraction and the best part about it is that there’s no emotional strings. “Looks like I should be buyin’ you a drink, darlin’.”

"I wish you would," she puts on a too-high giggle and bats eyelashes heavy with mascara and augmented with false hairs. Laying it on thick, she pushes in even closer and lets her body fit against his with nothing left to the imagination.

Jack doesn’t feel anything but he paints a cocky smirk on his face as he turns to her. “Then let me go get something for you, what do you want, darlin’?”

“Champagne, of course,” she simpers, never once considering the fact that she’s at a party for a whiskey distillery. Hell, she hadn’t even dressed for the theme.

Tiffany hangs out at the bar Statesman regularly hangs out at. A groupie because she knows everyone there makes good money. He’d bet his bottom dollar she conned Scotch into bringing her.

“Some party.” Is her attempt at conversation, putting more effort into showing off her cleavage than completing sentences. “You distillery boys sure know how to treat your gals.”

“Of course we do.” Jack’s smile is wicked, but it’s a part of the persona he adopts when he is working a target, it’s not real. “Any gal of mine deserves to be treated right.”

“Is that an invitation?” She knows who Jack is. Knows the civilian job title he’s been at Statesman Distillery. Even if she knew what it was all a front for, she likely wouldn’t care. She might just try harder if she knew the real wealth being flung around between a lot of these people.

“Now sweetheart, I’m good for a night or two.” Jack drawls. “But I’ve got a lot of leavin’ left to do.” He hums, quoting the country song.

The pout on Tiffany’s face is both dramatic and pronounced, but seeing that he’s immovable in that point — and knowing his reputation — she makes a small sound of frustrated disgust before flouncing away. Apparently annoyed at having wasted her time on a line cowboy.

The huff that Jack lets out is one of pure relief. Happy that he won’t have to deal with her again for at least half the night. She might make her way back around depending on successful she is. It’s shameful to say, but most of the agents here have dallied with her, including Jack. However, he had only taken her home to satisfy a physical need. He slowly makes his way back to the bar to order another drink, not champagne.

His line of sight is unfortunate as he saunters back toward the open bar. Looking back out to the dance floor, he can see Tequila twirling you around and the two of you laughing as the younger man holds you close and mock-sings along with the band.

Jack’s frown is deep, furrowing his brow as he cuts his eyes away in a jealous huff.

It goes round and round like that for most of the night. One dance partner after the next sweeps you across the dance floor but never the partner you want. One beautiful woman after another sidles up to Jack and bats their eyelashes but none are the woman he actually wants at his side. It’s a three-ring-circus. A whirlwind. But you never seem to get close enough to each other to see that neither of you is actually having any fun.

It’s easy to have an arm around a woman, easy to smile and flirt. His eyes continuously find you on the dance floor. Ginger had been right apparently, you had a damn dance card that was slap full. He hisses under his breath, wondering how many of those men knew you bit your thumb when you were working out a problem or that your eyes changed to a lighter shade when you were feeling slightly bashful.

There isn’t a single night of your life where you’ve gotten this much attention from this many different men — or this many different people period — and while it’s fun in a whirlwind sort of way, you do find yourself clock-watching. Wondering why your fellow agents all seem to be paying you so many compliments tonight and why you sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball without a hint of the real Prince Charming, the closer it gets to midnight the more you’re thinking of just going home. The last thing you want is to glance across the ballroom at midnight and see Jack tangled up in a midnight kiss with some petite redhead or statuesque model with perfect curls. You’ll be happier skipping out early and being in your pjs with a book at midnight than you will be witnessing that.

It’s fucking infuriating to have so many people come between him and you. Every dang time he untangles himself to break in on your dance with some partner, Ginger, Tequila or Champ waylay him. He’s never had such a hard time getting to chat with you and it’s making him slowly unravel his temper. “Ah Jack, there you are.” He sighs and paints on a smile when Champ claps his back and shoves a drink in his hand. “Forgot to mention somethin’….” His eyes slide away from you laughing as you are spun around, bitter to be stonewalled again.

“Well if it ain’t the gol’dern Belle of the Ball.” The voice you hear behind you is the one person you were hoping to avoid tonight, and as you’ve just finished dancing with one of the guys from the technology department who you didn’t even think knew your name, there’s no escaping. Agent Vodka is one of those older men who doesn’t realize that James Bond is just a character and that no one drags that persona into their everyday life. He routinely ‘flirts’ with you like he’s bestowing you a huge goddamn favor for even looking in your direction, and you were genuinely hoping to avoid him tonight.

Vodka is handsome in a classical sense, some would say a silver fox, if he had a better attitude. As it stands, there’s a confused tilt to his Stetson adorned head and he rakes his eyes up and down your body in a very calculated gaze. “You musta cleaned up for hours. Getting ready for a good night.”

“Sure. I guess so.” You nod, tone polite but dismissive. Vodka has a tendency to interpret friendly as begging for hands to be put on you, and the last thing you want to do is encourage him. “Happy new year, Vodka.”

“Seems like Whiskey and I have been the only ones not with you tonight.” He intones, smirking slightly. “Guess you was savin’ the best for last, huh? Since Jack’s hangin’ all over the ladies, I’ll step in and claim this dance.” He doesn’t ask for permission, just stepping up to you and grabbing your waist.

“That’s really okay.” Reeling backward, Vodka is strong but your self-defense training is a hell of a lot better, and you twist in his grip to make sure he can’t get a solid hold on you no matter how hard he tries. “Appreciate the offer,” you huff, trying to push him away. “But I was just heading home.”

“Oh don’t be that way.” Vodka huffs and manages to pull you close. “Believe me, dancin’ ‘s just a prelude to what we can do later.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to dance with you.” You push back against him again, leveraging your elbow against his side to loosen his grip with a sharp shot to his liver. This has gone too far and is hovering on ruining the night — which has been fairly fun despite its lack of your favorite cowboy and coworker.

“Jack-“ Ginger doesn’t bother apologizing as she taps his shoulder and points out to the dance floor. “Why don’t you go save Rye?” She huffs.

At this point it’s obvious that it’s a struggle. People are giving you extra space on the dance floor as they realize what’s happening but for whatever godforsaken reason, no one has stepped in yet. Probably because they’re too shocked that Vodka has finally crossed the line into being physically inappropriate instead of just saying uncomfortable things.

“Sugar, I’m sorry I’m late for our dance.” Jack slaps his hand down on Vodka’s shoulder and digs his fingers into the fleshy muscle. Getting satisfaction from the immediate change in the man’s stance. “Don’t mind if I interrupt, do ya?” His tone is friendly, but there’s a warning woven in the words. Dark eyes turn towards you as you quickly step back from the other man’s grasp.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d keep a dame waitin’.” Vodka mumbles, all sheepishness and apology now that he realizes he’s infringed on another man’s territory.

Jack doesn’t rip into the man like he wants to, everyone else is starting to relax and resume the party. “You probably need to lay off the liquor.” He tells the other agent, not really caring for the man either.

“You forget who we work for, Daniels?” Vodka huffs, giving Jack the stink eye. “Not like you go easy, either.”

“Last time I checked, I took no for an answer, Robbins.” Jack turns his back after letting Vodka go and sweeps you into his arms, effectively dismissing him.

The room damn near erupts into applause, chattering all around you erupting out of uncomfortable silence, but you don’t hear it. You don’t even see Tonic and Champ escorting Vodka out of the ballroom with the utmost immediacy so the dressing-down can be vocal and private. All you see is Jack, and all you hear is Jack. Even as quiet as he is, the huff he gives as he scoops you up and twirls you away speaks volumes. “Jack, you—you didn’t have to—” Of course, if he hadn’t, you’re not sure you could’ve gotten away so cleanly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t think a thing of it, sugar.” Although he has a few harsh words rolling around for everyone who didn’t step in. It’s like they were waiting for something. Alcohol’s done made their brains addled. “Although my own apologies for manhandling you to get you outta that sticky situation.” Even though he’s apologizing, he starts to lead you in a dance.

“I really don’t mind.” And that is the understatement of the goddamn year, as you instinctively melt against Jack the second he starts to move.

“Still…..” There’s finally a bit of happiness to the evening and he smirks down at you. “Now you can say your dance card has been filled.”

“Could’ve left Vodka off it completely,” you grumble lightly, but you still end up smiling. When Jack looks at you in almost any way you just light up from the inside. It’s instinctual.

“Don’t know what got into him.” Jack huffs, even though he’s saved you from encounters like that before.

“His namesake, most likely.” He had smelled like it, at least. A fact which added no charm whatsoever to your encounter. “Really, Jack. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Jack nods. “Sugar, you know that I know you are a capable agent. You coulda mopped the floor with him, but I’ll always give you whatever help you need.”

“I prefer not to bring hand-to-hand combat to Champ’s front door if I can help it.” If you let yourself really chew on the fancy, you could imagine Jack as rescuing you like a knight in armor. Like you were his to protect. “Not sure how much he’d appreciate that, regardless of how capable I am.”

“I think you’d find Champ more forgivin’ than you think.” He snorts, reminding himself of his own major fuck up just a few years prior. Champ had forgiven him and allowed him to regain the trust and confidence that he had destroyed through his own bling grief and rage.

“Maybe.” Jack certainly knows your boss better than you do even after several years with the agency, so you’ll differ from him. “But I’m glad to not have to find out. And…” The rest of the thought gets swallowed, and you cut your eyes away from him in embarrassment. There are some things better left unsaid and normally you’re so good at keeping your mouth shut.

“And?” Jack frowns slightly, not liking that you are holding back with him. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“It’s nothing,” you promise him, shaking your head and acting like it isn’t the biggest, most honest confession in the world from you that sets your cheeks on fire and makes you even more bashful around him. “I’m just…glad I got to dance with you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t think you were going to dance out the old year without ole Jack now, did ya?” He sounds pouty that you would even think that.

"Honestly?" Shrugging slightly even with one of his hands splayed across your back and the other holding yours tenderly against his chest, you wonder how ever you ever manage to keep a damn thing to yourself with him around when your mind just sort of seems to melt in his presence. "I was going to split and ring in the new year in my bed with the book I've been reading."

Jack frowns and shakes his head, not agreeing with your plans in the slightest. “Now that seems like a waste.” He draws. “Mighty fine night to spend readin’ a book. You should be doin’ other things.”

"Not a lot of other options to pick from," you mumble, trying to force your mind away from immediately conjuring the mental images and repeated daydreams of doing just about everything under the sun with — and to — him.

Jack wants to protest that, but the song starts to close out and you almost stop in your tracks. Obviously believing that he will end the dance now that Vodka is gone and the set is done. Instead of dropping your hands, he pulls you tighter against him. “Is that why you wore a dress like that, sugar? ‘Cause you didn’t have any options?”

"Ginger picked it out." Wrongly assuming it to be an indictment of the choice, you frown reflexively and wonder why he's still holding on to you. The trouble is over and the song is done. Shouldn't he be finding someone better to spend his time with? "I know it's...it's not right. Flapper dresses are designed for women who look the opposite of me. But she insisted on sticking to the theme."

“Opposite of you?” He makes a face of utter confusion. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout? Dress looks good, fits you.” Maybe you have a shit ton of pins in the dress? His sweet wife would always have to pin her dresses to get them to fit right. Nearly every night they went out, he was helping her pin it just so.

Skinny is what you meant, but instead of saying so you just chew your lip and shake your head. Voicing that out loud would really just cement the ruination of the night and you don't want to do that. "Never mind," you insist instead. "I'm glad you like it." Even if he's just saying it to be nice, which you're sure he is, it's still nice to hear.

There’s something bugging him about the way you continuously quit talking and get around what you mean. The next song starts to play and Jack moves to that slightly faster tempo. “No one’s breakin’ in yet, sugar. So I’m keepin’ you unless you need a break?”

"No." Not from him. You would never, ever ask for a break from him. "No, I'm good." In fact, you've been so distracted by the rescue that you haven't noticed midnight creeping ever-closer. "I don't want a break."

Jack smiles, not the cocky smirk he adopts or the charming playboy facade that he uses on women like Tiffany. This is a genuine smile, one that makes his dimple show with a flash of white teeth and the crow’s feet around his eyes appear. “Then let’s dance, sugar.”

Champ chuckles when he sidles up beside Ginger with a fresh glass of champagne for each of them and his wife on his other arm, all ready to lead the midnight countdown after this song is over. "Took all damn night," he laughs to his co-conspirator. "And ya had to pull out the big gun with Vodka. But look at 'em."

“Man huffed and puffed at being used.” Ginger rolls her eyes and curls her lip. “But I promised him the Antarctic assignment. It will seem like punishment to everyone else and apparently he’s romancing one of the scientists down there.” Personally, she doesn’t see why anyone would be romanced by Vodka, but to each their own.

"It's for a damn good cause." Champ stifles a guffaw and even his wife looks amused at the way everything went down. "Everybody deserves to be happy, don't they? Even Vodka." It earns another snort from the older man and he aims a smirk at Ginger. "So what's the plan from here, Ging?"

“If Jack will get off his ass, there should be a kiss at midnight.” Ginger grins. “And maybe, just maybe, the dumbass will realize that it’s okay to want her. She wants him too.”

"Of course she does." Everybody knows that. Everybody with eyes and sense in their head, anyway. "He's just been stuck in the whole of his own grief for far too damn long. It's about time he broke free. Which is exactly why I went along with this plan of yours."

“I’m glad you did. Jack’s felt so guilty about actually developing feelings for Rye that he’s convinced himself that it’s wrong to flirt with her.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “When he breaks, it’ll be entertaining.”

"Entertaining for all of us." Grinning, Champ holds his glass out to his partner in crime in salute. "I sure as hell hope it happens right here for all of us to see."

Unaware that he’s being plotted against, Jack continues to hold you in his arms, taking you around the dance floor and trying to keep from asking too many questions that would potentially ruin his easy relationship with you. “Have you had fun? Other than Vodka? Your feet have to be killin’ you, all the dances you’ve been movin’ to.”

“It’s alright, I’ll have a hot bath and soak them. Aside from the one little interruption, everything’s been so nice.” This is the best part, without a doubt. Attention from other people is a novelty, the compliments and laughter a kind change of pace. But any time spent with Jack will always out do any other experience.

“A nice hot soak and a drink is always good to unwind.” Jack hums. “If other activities aren’t available.” The comment is warm, almost suggestive as he twists you around and then pulls you close again, feeling your softness against him and enjoying it.

It’s the worst kind of gut punch, hearing a comment like that from Jack, and your eyes are downcast when you curl back into his arms. It’s too unkind to be deliberate, but at the same time it’s such a careless comment that you just want to scream. He would never be intentionally cruel to you but the flirtatious tone of the comment is too much. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Vodka, then.”

Jack stiffens, frowning immediately and his blood pressure rises in anger. “What the fuck?” He hisses, the moment making him grip you tighter, almost the point of hurting you. “Why- you?” He’s at a loss for words right now.

“Well it’s the only offer I’ve gotten in…a year? Maybe more?” You shrug dismissively but his grip on you doesn’t allow for it, making your tone turn even more bitter in the process. He doesn’t get to get mad about who offers when he has no interest in himself. “Definitely more than a year, now that I think about it.”

“That wasn’t a goddamn offer.” He snorts. “It was a cowboy playin’ grab ass when his partner wasn’t willing.” He reminds you, dark eyes flashing angrily. “Otherwise known as assault.”

“And yet it’s still the only time any man has looked at me twice in more than a calendar year,” you hit back, practically hissing under your breath as embarrassed tears sting at your eyes. “Nobody’s exactly lining up to spend time with the fat girl except tonight which is Ginger’s doing. I know it is.” (edited)

The two of you are hissing back and forth, so preoccupied with your emotions that neither one of you are aware of the fact that the countdown for midnight has begun. The crowd around you starts to chant down from ten but Jack's too busy growling at you in anger. "Why are you so fuckin' quick to insult every goddamn person who decided to dance with you?"

“Because I know I’m right.” The two of you have never once torn into each other like this and while it breaks you’re heart, you’re so angry that lashing out is happening by instinct. It hurts so much more to be doubted by him and you can’t even express why. It’s devastating. “Do you even know what assignments they give me, Jack?” You hiss back, not hearing the shouts around you. “The ones where they need someone to be invisible! If they need someone plain and ignorable, they come straight to me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Because I’m good at it and that’s even worse than them just assuming. I’m excellent at not being noticed. At not being desired. It’s my fucking superpower. So no, I don’t think for a second that any of these dances were genuine moments of interest or offers for literally anything else. Because why would they be?”

His heart breaks and he's simultaneously enraged that you view yourself that way. "Five! Four! Thr—" He reaches up and grabs the back of your neck to yank you forward so your nose is less than an inch from his own. "You want a goddamn offer?" He snarls, losing all sense of reason when it comes to you and ready to prove how wrong you are. "Here's your fuckin' offer." Without another word, he drags you forward to plaster his lips against yours in an angry kiss.

It should feel terrible. It should make you so angry you slap him. It should make you feel a hell of a lot of nasty things, but instead what you feel is the undeniable melting of your own self against him, finally getting the only thing you’ve wanted since the day this infuriating cowboy sauntered into your life. Jack is firm under your hands, burning hot and intoxicatingly inviting in the way he does not pull away. You must have gotten so mad you blacked out, because this is impossible.

When you don’t push him away, when you don’t slap him, Jack growls. Using the soft sigh that you give to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with another groan as the cheers and sing of Auld Lang Syne happens all around the two of you.

Either you’ve burst a blood vessel from being so angry and ashamed or this is the best dream you’ve ever had. Jack wraps both of his arms tight around you and you cling to him, fists dig into the arm of his suit jacket and the hair on the nape of his neck as you silently beg this hallucination never to end. You can live and die in this moment and tell yourself that it was more than a dream. You can imagine this is exactly how fiercely Jack kisses when he really wants to. When he wants someone.

The kiss has turned from an angry mashing of his lips against yours to a passionate mingling of your breath and tongues. You whimper and his entire body tighten with need. Overriding the portion of his brain that is screaming that this is a bad idea, that he is bad for you and continuing to kiss you as everyone else has moved into dancing now.

Neither one of you has realized that his hat has been knocked off, or that he’s drawn you so close your back has bowed, or even that you’ve entirely given up on needing to breathe in order to never have to stop kissing him. Years of repressed desire and soul-crushingly unrequited love are just being poured into every second you spend drowning in this impossible fantasy.

“Well damn.” Champ chuckles from his position on the dance floor with his lovely wife. “Didn’t expect that long of a show. Boy don’t stop soon, he’s gonna devour her right there in the middle of the floor.”

“That’s what happens when you repress your feelings for six goddamn years,” Ginger snorts in amusement. “Should I go interrupt them?”

“No.” Champ decides with a shake of his silvery head. “Leave ‘em. Don’t want the boy to get spooked before he makes up his mind what’s gonna happen next.”

“And he will.” Ginger agrees with that completely. Jack spooks faster than a newborn foal.

“He would, where she’s concerned. Boy has his heart in it and he’s been fightin’ it.” Champ agrees as his wife chuckles. “He will figure it out.” She promises. “Rye won’t let him walk away from this with a smile and a handshake.”

“I think she’d rather die than let him go, at this rate.” The smile on Ginger’s face is soft. Glad that her friend is finally getting everything she — you — have ever wanted. It really is only oxygen that makes the two of you pull apart, panting for breath with fingers curled into each other’s flesh and clothes like you’re hanging on for dear life.

Jack’s eyes are dark and searching as he looks at you. Looking for the answer to a question and when he finds what he’s looking for, he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the dance floor.

“Jack?” The realization that that really just happened ignites a small panic in your chest and a riot in your mind, and the fact that Jack hasn’t let go of you or run off in disgust is only confusing you more.

He doesn’t speak, he can’t speak right now. The people on the floor just seem to part, moving out of his way as he guides you off the floor. He does squeeze your hand though.

“Jack?” The longer he goes without saying anything the higher the panic rises, but you cling to his hand all the way to the front door of Champ’s house where the front room has been transformed into a coat closet.

Jack doesn’t answer and spins you around to press you up against the wall, kissing you again. “Get your fuckin’ coat.” He demands roughly.

It’s a much briefer kiss but it leaves you breathless all the same, and the determination in his eyes makes you shiver and rush to obey. If this is what you’re going to get with him — just a few demanding kisses before he decides it was a mistake and turns you away? Then you’ll take it.

His hat is missing, Jack realizes when he goes to readjust it and frowns. Patting his head and looking around to see if it fell off around here, but it’s nowhere in sight. It’s a small price to pay, but he runs his hand through his hair as you rush back to his side. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t seem angry, but for the life of you there is no version of tonight that goes any further. Not in your mind. A conversation about how you shouldn’t have kissed him — or at least kissed him back, since you have a dim memory of his hand pulling you to him right before your mind went blank — or at least about how it was a mistake is bound to follow.

The second your hand is in his again, Jack is dragging you through the doors and down the stairs of the house to his Bronco. He’s parked close, thank god and he can barely get the door open before he’s grabbing your waist and practically throwing you up into the seat.

It shouldn't be a thrill to be lifted up and tossed around as though you weigh next to nothing, but there is something in Jack's singular determination and focus that tells you not to question or fight it. If he wants to manhandle you a little before whatever uncomfortable confrontation is bound to happen? Well, it's not as though you haven't literally fantasized about that scenario. At least now you have a frame of reference.

He’s holding onto his control, barely. Racing around the front of the vehicle and jumping in beside you. He can’t even talk to you as he starts the engine. Thankful that his place isn’t too far away as he throws the Bronco into gear and slings gravel as he spins out.

The most surprising part might be that he reaches for your hand as he drives. His fingers curl through yours and hold onto you on top of the gear shift, not letting you do your usual thing of shifting away or curling in on yourself in uncertainty.

There’s only two miles left to go. He grunts as he slows down to make the turn and your hand moves the shifter with him, making sure that he doesn’t squeeze it too hard as he goes through the gears.

He's driving to his own house. You've done this route yourself more times than you can count for a thousand different reasons. The apartment that you rent with your ample Statesman salary is well on the other side of Louisville and Ginger lives closer to you than to Jack, so it's not like you have any doubt where he's headed. When he pulls the Bronco down his long and winding driveway toward the large farmhouse he's called home for a decade already, your hand tightens slightly in his, nervous and wondering what will come next.

When he cuts the engine, there’s a half a second before he opens the door. Almost speaking but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s climbing out to walk around the truck to open the door.

"I wish you would say something." Even if he's helping you out of the car and holding onto your hand, you can't figure out what's going on in his head. Not having any clue is making you a little panicky the longer it goes on.

Jack stops, two steps away from the path to the front door. “Do you want to come inside?” There’s a fear that you don’t want this. That you are not on the same page as he is.

He's not angry. Or upset anymore, that you can tell. But the determination in his gaze is still there for something that you can't quite put your finger on. "Yes," you decide, nodding as you step toward both him and the house. "I do." Whatever happens, you're hopeful it won't be bad.

You said yes. Your words spur him on again and he’s off like a shot, dragging you behind him. The biometric lock is a godsend. There’s no fumbling for a key at the door as he hustles you inside and slams it behind you both, pressing you against it as he attempts to devour your mouth once more.

This was not the reaction you expected. Not in any way. Not even when he had kissed you twice at Champ’s house before hauling you over to his place with the fires of hell scorching his toes. Anybody else might have read the signals, but not you. Not with the surprised squeal you let out or the soft moan that follows it — both completely outside of your control.

You’re alone now and this time, Jack doesn’t keep his hands on your waist. Both hands grab firm handfuls of your delightful round ass and squeezes as he presses into you. His painfully hard cock grinding into the soft pouches of your hips.

Because of the complete blanket of disbelief you're living under, it takes you longer than you're proud of or will ever admit to realize what is pressing against your hip. It's the first throbbing twitch from under his perfectly tailored suit that has your eyes flying open and both of your hands pressing firmly on his shoulders, breaking the kiss as you gasp in surprise.

“What- I thought-“ Jack’s frown is one of utter confusion as he drops his hands and steps back from you. Hating the feeling of rejection and suddenly wondering if he’s made a fucking fool of himself by getting twisted in knots by a woman who doesn’t actually want him. “‘m sorry.”

"Why?" The incredulous question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the confusion marring both of your faces makes you suck in a deep breath. "I—I just—I'm surprised," you admit, as damned foolish as that makes you sound. Fucking shocked is what you are, but you don't want to be labor the point and ruin whatever is happening.

He feels foolish and embarrassed, like he’s been caught with his hand in a candy jar. Reaching up and running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. “You said you wanted to come in.” He reasons. “I- what did you think would happen?”

"I—I don't know," you admit, feeling even more ridiculous than he does. Your back is still against his front door, crying out loud. "I ruled out you still being mad at me after you kissed me again but I didn't think..." Gesturing at him lamely, you blow out a breath and rub at the back of your neck. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I was just surprised." If this is the only chance you're going to get with him? You're going to take it and run with it as long as it lasts.

He frowns again, wondering how you could want him and yet be surprised when he wants to take you to bed. “So what do you want, sugar? Because I’m feeling like a penny at the bottom of a pan, rattled.”

The expression cracks the tension, at least for you, and an unexpectedly bright and beaming smile graces your lips as you reach for him boldly and find to your own delight and continued surprise that he doesn't draw away. "What I want is...a long shot." It's more than that, but you're downplaying your own fears to a rather extreme degree right now. Trying to be brave. "But...what are the odds you were thinkin' about taking me upstairs?"

“House odds.” Jack rasps out, knowing that the odds are always in the house’s favor when playing at a casino. “Pondered the idea of strippin’ you down right here and making you squeal against the door, but then tossin’ you over my shoulder and haulin’ you to my large, luxurious bed also has its merits.”

You genuinely have to shut your eyes to steady yourself, exhaling long and deep and praying you aren't actually moaning out loud like you are in your head. As it stands, both images he paints have your knees weak and your body shivering. "Eith—um—either one," you manage to stammer out, eyelashes parting so hesitantly that they flutter like wings. "Either one is good."

“Sexy as you look, sugar….” Now that he knows that you are on the same page as him, a little bit of the cocky swagger is back. “Thinkin’ it’d be a goddamn shame not to spread you out.” Despite your stature, Jack tucks his shoulder and scoops you up over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, bolting for the stairs.

"Holy hell, Jack!" A nervous shout and a squeak escape you when he picks you up, and you cling to his jacket as he carries you through the house you've visited innumerable times before.

Chuckling, Jack slaps your ass with his free hand as he ambles up the stairs easily. “Don’t be nervous, sugar, I won’t drop you.”

This time you definitely do moan out loud, too taken by surprise to stop the sound or swallow it before it can come out of your mouth and you know Jack heard.

He grins to himself, slapping your ass again and is rewarded with another moan. “Mmmmhm.” He chuckles. “Rye likes a little bit of light spanking. Noted.”

"Pretty sure I'll like anything you do," you admit ruefully, though you're quickly feeling the constraints of embarrassment fall away as he reaches his bedroom door. This is real. This is really happening.

"I'll keep that in mind when I hogtie you to the bed and lick whipped cream off your body." He teases, kicking open the slightly ajar door and striding into the room to toss you down on the bed like a character in a romance novel. Right now, he doesn't know if he's supposed to be the hero or the villain, feeling a bit like both as his rough handling of you as him immediately reaching for your ankles to pull off your shoes in his eagerness to see you naked in his bed.

“See?” You huff at him, heavy breathing coming from nothing but an undeniable surplus of desire. “That actually sounds sexy coming from you.” Everything does, but his quick fingers are divesting you of your shoes and that reminds you how your Spanx is part of this undressing process — which is the single least sexy thing in the world.

Jack rips off his tuxedo jacket and tosses it down on the floor. Climbing up onto the bed and over you to press against you fully, pinning you down to the bed with a groan. Quickly capturing your lips again in a frenzied kiss.

It makes no damn sense to you, but you’re not going to question it anymore. If Jack could have literally anyone in the world but for tonight he chooses you, then you’re just going to make sure he doesn’t regret it. That decision on your part sort of pulls you out of your nervous shock, and all at once your hands are pulling open his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with enthusiasm.

“There we go.” Jack groans when you stop acting shocked and start acting. Your hands on his body makes him shake and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “Sugar.”

He could probably call you whatever he wanted and you would just go with it, but hearing him call you Sugar — that sickly sweet name he favors so much yet seems to bestow on you so rarely? It feels like you might melt so deeply into his plush mattress that you will never get up again.

Moving from your lips takes sheer willpower but he wants to explore more of you. One hand bracing on the bed and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast as he kisses down your chin and to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat. “Driving me crazy, baby girl.” He coos, voice rough and lusty. “So goddamn pretty.”

No one who has ever met Jack would be surprised to learn how mouthy the cowboy is in bed. He’s mouthy in every other aspect of his life so frankly it would be pretty strange if this was the exception. Still, to hear those words said to you is beyond your wildest dreams. It’s surreal in the most sensational of ways. Even when you had dreamed of being with Jack, you had never dreamed of him praising you.

He groans when your fingernails bite into the skin on his chest as you hastily push the shirt opened. “Tigress, huh?” He growls, squeezing your tit again, a little harder this time and his hard cock pulses against your inner thigh. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’m just as goddamn eager as you. But ‘ole Jack likes a bit of wildness.” He bites down on your shoulder as he chuckles. “We’ll have ourselves one hell of a rodeo tonight.”

If you even knew where half this boldness came from, you might be a little embarrassed. But given the fact that you never thought this would happen, it mostly just feels like you're telling yourself not to waste the chance. Lightning never strikes the same place twice and this is your lightning strike, so you're going to lean into the whole thing if that's what he really wants. Your nails strike a path down his chest but get caught in his undershirt, a fact which makes you huff in frustration and search blindly for the hem to tear off that layer of clothing as well.

Jack groans and finally decides to give you what you want. Pulling back long enough to finish pulling his arms out of the shirt sleeves, he tears the undershirt off and throws it off the side of the bed to reveal his chest. Unable to resist pulling your dress down to pop your breast out and diving back down to wrap his mouth around a nipple.

"Oh fuck." It's a move you weren't expecting, but your back arches off the mattress instinctively to push your chest up and invite him to take and take and take — just as much as he wants to. If you were coherent enough to suggest it you would try to start wiggling out of your dress but as it is the only thing you can focus on is the heat of him surrounding you and the way every place he kisses you seems to catch on fire immediately at the press of his lips.

He suckles, bites and then licks the hard nub in his mouth like he’s gorging himself on you. Because he is. Hands searching for the zipper to your gorgeous dress. It’s beautiful, but it needs to be beautiful on his floor.

"If you want it off, you have to let me sit up," you manage to huff out, barely able to do more than pant at the way he's clearly trying to devour your tits first.

Groaning in protest, his lips are twisting in a pout as he pulls away. Panting breathlessly as he itches to launch himself at you again. “Hurry up, sugar.”

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the zipper, pulling it down and carefully undoing the clasp at the top before letting the heavily sequined cocktail dress slip off of your arms so you can maneuver it over your head. Half-naked in Jack's bed with panties so soaked you could probably wring them out is not how you expected to end this night, but here you are.

“Fuck.” Jack frowns at the tight shapewear he’s met with. “My present’s a little too wrapped for my liking, baby girl.” He hisses, curling his fingers under the layer to start stripping it off of you. “Want you naked.”

"It was the only way that dress was gonna look halfway decent," you mumble, shifting under him and definitely avoiding looking him in the face while he peels the Spanx off of you. It's a little bit too intimate even for the man you've wanted to be intimate with for years — to the point of making you feel completely naked even when you still have your bra and panties on.

He scoffs, nearly ready to whip his knife out and start slicing the material. “Bullshit.” He huffs, happy there’s just the bra and he uses two fingers to flick the four hooks open. “You don’t need nothin’.” Instead of explaining, he’s diving back into your tits while one hand dips into your panties.

“Fuck, Jack!” Instead of a tight reaction of shock, this time he’s rewarded with a moan and your legs falling open for him as the fingers of one hand dig through his thick hair to scratch along the base of his scalp. If he wants you to be bold, you’ll be bold. You’ll be whatever Jack wants as long as you just get to be in his bed for one night.

Jack moans against your tits, incredibly turned on by the pure moxy he’s always loved in you. Despite your utterly untrue view on yourself, you are sassy, sweet and sexy. That’s why he’s unable to resist now that he’s tasted you. Once he’s teased one breast enough, he switches to the other. “Gonna eat you up, sugar. Devour you whole.”

"All yours." It's sort of unintentional, the vow-like nature of the thing, but you're just being honest. You've really been Jack's since the day you met him. Even if it's taken so many damn years to get the two of you into this situation together, it's still the truth. "Whatever you want, handsome."

He groans, fingers sliding through the sweet slick that is covering your folds. “Want you.” He mumbles as he starts to slide his finger deeper, pressing against your entrance.

It's not even in your mind to ask why when he's splitting you open on two thick fingers like that, and you swear if that's how this night is starting you might actually ascend directly to some higher plain if you get to actual sex. "Ha—fuck— you have me."

“Mmmmmm.” He licks your nipple “Not yet.” He pouts, pulling his fingers back out of you to plunge them in again. “But I will, sugar. Cum for me and then I’ll have you like I’ve been dreamin’.”

The curse you groan out is nearly incoherent, more of an agreement than anything else but you'll be damned if you let this moment be anything less than memorable for both of you. Jack hovers over you and you wind your arms around him to encourage him to continue sucking on your tits while his fingers piston in and out of your pussy with determination. You know it won't take too much longer before your legs start to shake, and as if Jack knows it just as intuitively, he curls his fingers inside you and you gasp out a moan of his name.

His teeth nip at your sensitive flesh as he hisses. Feeling how tight your pussy squeezes his fingers and imagines his cock inside you. Tight and fucking scorching hot, just like he had imagined with his hand wrapped around his cock in the shower. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos before he sucks on your nipple again. Moaning when you arch up, writhing under him and making the prettiest, most desperate sounds he’s heard in a long time.

No one who has ever been in this bed has ever left it with any remaining doubts about Jack’s skills as a lover, and while you knew that before? Now you understand it oh-so-very deeply. His fingers pump into you mercilessly, curling at just the right angle to make you cry out in pleasure in every pass, and yet somehow he’s managed to keep the angle of that curl perfect while still holding them apart — stretching your eager pussy open and making sure you’re ready to take every inch of him. All of those intricacies combine with the dedication attention he is lavishing on your tits, and when the tense coil of restraint in your belly snaps it explodes into a thousand white-hot stars behind your eyes as you cum for him.

You’re gorgeous when you fall apart, just like he knew you would be. Keeping his fingers moving, he watches, enthralled with you as you cry out his name in a pitch that has his cock throbbing. The hot gush of your pleasure makes his fingers squelch inside you and he groans out your name while he starts to slow down the rhythm of his hand, letting you float down from your orgasm, drawing it out for you.

“Holy hell…” When your eyes open again you’re completely boneless beneath him, giggling softly at the light-as-air feeling in your body that never ever feels lighter than anything.

Dragging his wet fingers out of your cunt is his own personal kind of hell, but the urge to taste you is too great. Watching you with dark eyes as he slips his two fingers into his mouth with a lusty groan.

“Take your pants off.” The way you groan it is nearly an order but you definitely meant it to be begging, though at this point you don’t care. Especially when he arches an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Take your fucking pants off, Jack.”

Chuckling, he shuffles off the bed to oblige you. “Never let it be said I don’t follow orders, sugar.” He winks as he kicks off the tuxedo pants and hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs. “These too?”

“The fact that you even wear underwear is a shock,” you tease, motioning for him to continue stripping and trying — but probably not succeeding — to not stare.

He smirks. “Had to contain the beast for once.” He winks as he drags the tight material down. “Don’t wear ‘em normally.”

The Beast is probably as good a name as any, and you have to swallow a groan when he frees his throbbing cock — already damp with precum. It’s a wonder he can contain it, and you’re caught in between wanting to bend forward and taste him or just lying back for him to have his way with you. Curiosity and a curtain of lust win out on the short struggle, and you lean forward to take the purple head of his cock in your mouth just after he climbs back onto the bed.

“Fuck!” Jack moans out loudly and pushes your head away gently after a moment. “Baby, baby…” he pants. “You keep that up and this rodeo will be over before it starts.”

“Sorry…” Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you shift back to get under his blankets. “I just had to know…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Jack huffs. Kneeling on the bed and pulling the covers away as you hide your body away from his eyes. “Just don’t want to embarrass myself by blowing my load because of your pretty mouth before I can hear you scream my name.”

“I already have,” you remind him, a softness in your tone belied by the heat in both of your eyes. “Guess I might have to be a little louder this time.”

“Only if it’s right in my ear.” Jack wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it as he reaches for your thigh. “Buried deep inside that little cunt and feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

It goes without saying that you’re both clean. All Statesman agents are required to have clean bills of health in order to be on the roster for missions and you’re both active agents. “I—have an IUD.” Is what you tell him instead, shivering a little at the reality of what is about to happen.

Eyes lighting up in delight, Jack’s lips curl up. “Oh sugar, it’s not my birthday yet, why are you showerin’ me with presents?” He coos, sliding his hand up and down your ample thigh. “Pretty as a damn picture.”

The real answer is that you’re desperate to feel him, but you just smirk instead, not wanting to get your heart more involved than it already is. “Because I don’t have a condom and I’ll be damned if we stop now because of it.”

“If you want me to get one…” Jack motions back to his pants. “I have one in my wallet.”

“I don’t want the barrier,” you admit, biting your lip at the extremely vulnerable nature of that confession. “If it’s okay with you.”

His smirk turns into a wicked grin. “You read my mind, sugar. I want to feel all of you.”

You could make a joke about how much of you there is to feel, but just this once you stifle the urge. Opting instead to reach out and gently cup Jack's cheeks in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. "Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?”

As you lean back, Jack follows you. Climbing up your body and groaning as he settles between your thighs. “You want to cum again, pretty girl?”

"Not without you this time." The reality of Jack is better than anything you thought so far. Since this miracle is surely once in a lifetime, you want it to be as amazing as possible.

Jack groans your name, pressing his lips to yours in another hot, wet kiss. Passionate and consuming as he pushes an arm underneath you. “I’m right here with you.”

As impossible as it seems, he really is. He is right there with you, taking you in his arms and making you feel delicate and desirable for the first real time in your entire adult life.

He doesn’t rush, although he wants to. Every kiss is slow and thorough. Reaching down between you to take hold of himself to notch at your entrance. “Hold on, sugar. See if we can ride for longer than eight seconds.”

“I’m not gonna buck you, Jack.” You can promise him that, because you know damn well you’re going to hold onto this moment for dear life and not question the gift that it is. This one little shining moment is just for the two of you and you’re never going to forget a single second of it.

His eyes are watching, burning into yours as he starts to slowly rock his hips forward. Breaking you open with the first inch of his cock and swooping in to kiss you again when you gasp.

The world slows down, motions stretching into time and blending together in ways that you can’t quite wrap your head around so all you know in this moment is Jack. Every time he thrusts forward again your moans get that much deeper, until on the final experimental rock of his hips, he is seated fully inside you and you feel so spellbound and grateful for the moment that you’re all but sure you could cry. Instead you pour yourself into kissing him, rocking your own hips slightly to take him more comfortably and adjust to the weighty feeling of having him inside you.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Jack inhales sharply, stealing your breath as he tries to rein himself in, throbbing violently inside you. If it weren’t for the fact that he had promised you a rodeo, he would be cumming, overwhelmed by how hot and tight you are. You’re perfect, just like he always imagined. “You be a good girl and take my cock, m’kay?”

Good girl is another one of those sticking points for you just like getting your ass slapped, and if Jack had no idea before, he certainly does now, from the way your cunt just spasmed around his length and you moaned like you were coming all over again.

“Ohhhhhh.” Jack’s eyes nearly cross and he gives a particularly sharp thrust when you clamp down around him. “You like that.” He pants out. “You’re my good girl?”

“S’not fair,” you huff, throwing him a playful pout that gets cut by another shaky moan. “You’re finding all the buttons I like pushed way too easily.”

“You haven’t - fuck - figured out my buttons yet, sugar?” Jack ducks his head down and slides the arm not underneath you down your hip and thigh to pull it up higher. Sinking deeper into you with a moan of your name.

“Liking to have your cock sucked doesn’t—fuck!— count,” you tell him, back arching as he hits a new angle inside you.

He chuckles and licks at your pulse before he nips at your skin with his teeth. Fingers digging into your pillowy flesh and groans when you clench around him again.

Finding a rhythm is as easy as breathing. Being with him is so much more natural and intuitive than you dreamt it would be. Your natural tendency to be a little rougher is equaled by his enthusiasm for making the bedroom a loud and raucous experience. There’s no hiding from each other or demurring, not once you get going. It’s like something inside you has finally been unlocked after a lifetime of waiting — waiting for Jack to come along with the key that would open you up.

If it surprises Jack that you are wild in bed, it’s probably the best goddamn surprise he’s ever gotten. His back burns from the raking of your nails when he hits deep. He fucking loves it. Your wildness makes him go absolutely feral over you.

It’s the opposite of who you are in everyday life. A version of you just for him. A version of you that leaves your worries outside the circle of your bodies and embraces sex as something carefree. Which, if you’re honest, isn’t really how you’ve felt about sex with anyone besides Jack. (edited)

His lips and teeth map every inch that he can reach as he pumps in and out of you frantically. Trying to keep the pace hard and fast because every time your cunt clenches, his hips stutter from how fucking tight you are. “Fuck, my good girl.” He growls. “So fucking tight.”

“So fucking big,” you give back, starting to pant heavier and more unevenly. There’s a whine forming in the back of your throat that you can’t hold back and you bite down on the juncture of Jack’s shoulder as your legs threaten to shake all over again. You’re so close to cumming but you don’t want this to end.

Jack changes the tempo, slowing down and grinding his pelvis against your clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” He rasps out. “Cum on Jack’s big ‘ole cock and soak me?”

"So—oh, fuck—close, baby." The way you feel right now, you might actually fall apart at the seams when you cum again, but it will be worth it. It will be worth just knowing first hand how gorgeous Jack looks when he follows you over the edge. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop, Jack."

“Never.” Jack growls, smashing his teeth together and hissing at the way you claw and writhe under him. It’s like taming a feral cat in a pillowcase and he loves it. Your thighs are crushing his hips and all he can do is imagine them around his head. “Cum for me.”

A half dozen thrusts later, your cunt is clenching down on his cock and pulsing with a fierce orgasm that has your thighs tensing at his waist and your back bowing off the bed. Everything seems to be happening at the top of however it possibly could, and that includes the way you cry his name into the night before collapsing back into his sheets with your arms and legs still around him, willing him to follow you to bliss.

Jack moans your name, pants it again against your lips. His brow knitted in concentration as he tries to last. His body tightening and tensing as his pleasure builds to that almost painful precipice. His heart pounding, but not because of the physical exertion, but because of the almost loving look on your eyes. “Love you.” He moans, right as his lips crash against yours and he breathes it into your mouth again. “Love you.”

You freeze under him, but Jack is too caught in his bliss to tell. Like a bucket of water has been splashed over the bubble of this night and popped that shell keeping you separate from the world. Did he just...? There's no way. There's just absolutely no way at all. You must have imagined it. Wished for it so desperately that you hallucinated the words. Because otherwise you're not quite sure what you'll do — because Jack has never lied to you. But he's also never given you any reason to think your feelings might be requited.

Caught up in his orgasm, Jack rides wave after wave of complete bliss as he empties himself into you, metaphorically and physically. Giving you every bit of himself as he finally acknowledges the truth of why he has always kept you at arms length. His love for you terrifying him, but right now, he’s flying. Collapsing into your arms and panting out your name as he catches his breath.

There's nothing you can do with this shock except bury it, holding him and gently stroking his hair while he catches his breath with his head on your chest. You imagined it, you remind yourself silently, blinking back tears at how much you wish it was true.

The whiskey, the emotions and the exertion have Jack cuddly and sleepy as he comes down from his orgasm. “Fuck, baby girl.” He hums, kissing your neck as he slowly pulls out of you and shifts to your side to roll you over with him. “Wore me out.” He chuckles. “But gave a hell of a ride.”

He tucks you into his arms to be his little spoon, not letting you get away for even a second. Any other time? This would have been thrilling. "Get some sleep, baby." Returning the pet name seems innocent enough, and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You earned it."

His eyes are closed when he shoots you a sleepy grin. “Talk when we wake up, sugar.” He promises, fingers stroking your skin softly.

That promise might be why you sleep so fitfully in the night to follow. Why you're so wound up that when your Statesman issued phone chirps from your purse on his floor around 6:30 in the morning, your eyes open immediately. Jack has turned over in the night, sleeping on his back now with one arm still around you but not so tightly that you can't extract yourself to answer the message. That phone is used only for missions and confidential communication, meaning you absolutely cannot ignore it. Incoming Message: Agent Rye report immediately for mission briefing. CODE BLACK. Code Black. You curse under your breath, careful not to wake Jack, and rub one hand down your face in dismay. That level of secrecy in a mission assignment means you can't even wake him up to say goodbye. You're supposed to speak to no one, just proceed immediately to the nearest Statesman branch for your mission briefing. With a sigh and another, more colorful curse, you shake your head and glance back at the bed where Jack is sleeping soundly. There's nothing to do but get dressed and Walk of Shame your ass into the office. You just wish you could wake him up to say goodbye.

It’s been years since Jack has slept so well. Deep and dreamless, none of the nightmares that often plague his rest. The soft scent of you surrounding him and soothing him like nothing he’s had in a long time. When his eyes open, he’s feeling like he’s had the best sleep of his life. Frowning when he doesn’t feel you next to him. Calling out your name softly in case you were in the bathroom. “Rye? Sugar?”

There's no trace of you anywhere. He may as well have come home alone last night, except for the scent of you in the air and the scratches on his back. It's almost an insult when he sees a fallen sequin on the rug where your dress had been tossed.

“Fuck.” Jack’s slipped out of plenty of beds, ducked out and kept walking. The walk of shame was never shameful when there was a little bit of pep to his step, but right now, he’s pissed. Pissed you didn’t have the fucking balls to wake him before you slipped off like a thief in the night. Snatching up his pants, he digs into the pocket for his phone, dialing your number and ready to have it out with you.

"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able!" Your voicemail message is insultingly chipper when it picks up right away, almost taunting him. Like you aren't willing to talk, when nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Fuck!” Jack shouts, throwing the phone and scowling angrily. Pissed that you aren’t here, that you apparently don’t want to talk to him. “Fine, you regret it? Fuck you too.” He growls and stomps into the bathroom to shower. If you wanted nothing to do with him after he had let down his walls last night, he wants nothing to do with you either.

******

"What's got you all chewed up and spat out today?" Tequila raises an eyebrow at Jack when he comes huffing into the office, a little late and a lot pissed off. He had expected Jack to be in a stellar mood.

“Not a goddamn thing.” Even though his feathers are ruffled, Jack practically refuses to even think about you. To the point where he had thrown the sheets and the costly Tom Ford tuxedo away. “Whadda we got?” Desperate to concentrate on a mission, he jumps straight into business.

"Wingman prep." Tequila tells him, tapping the folder on his own desktop. "Somebody got tapped this morning and Champ wants us to comb some old mission files to prep for an extraction. Plan B sorta shit." And since all of the mission-ready agents on the Statesman payroll are top notch with years of experience under their belts, anyone potentially needing an extraction from a mission is a big fucking deal.

“Who got tapped?” Jack asks, grabbing a file and flipping it open with a frown on his face. “Scotch?”

"I thought you'd know already." Tequila's eyes snap back up to Jack in concern. "It was Rye."

Jack freezes and slowly lifts his eyes from the file to find Tequila frowning at him, confused by how he doesn’t know. “Why would I know that?” Jack asks after a moment. It explains why your phone was off, but you had still slipped out without saying a fucking word.

"Because...you went home with her last night?" Everybody knows that you and Jack left the party. Absolutely everyone. There was a whole extra celebration after you left. "Figured you woulda known by her getting up this morning and all."

There’s a split second where Jack wants to snap that you had left him to wake up alone, but he doesn’t. What comes out of his mouth instead, is to deny the whole thing. “Took her home.” Jack shrugs, lying easily as if he couldn’t care less. “She wanted to soak in a bath and read some book.”

The frown on Tequila's face deepens measurably, pure confusion marring his usually chipper face. "Bullshit," he huffs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I saw you kiss her. No way."

“Believe what you want.” Jack snaps flatly. “Where are we in planning the back up plans?” The hurt is soothed slightly by you being called away, but it doesn’t make it nonexistent. You hadn’t even left a goddamn message for him. He could have seen not waking him if you had left some sign that you didn’t regret the night even happened.

"Early stages." Knowing better than to poke the dragon when he's mad about something, Tequila defers to work like Jack clearly wants. "Tell me what you think, but I think me on the ground and you in the Silver Pony is the best bet." Whatever happened between you and Jack, the man is clearly hurt, and Tequila makes a note to go and talk to Ginger when he gets his next chance. If you had said anything to anyone, it would be to her.

“Whatever.” Jack practically rolls his eyes and shrugs. Usually he loves the opportunity to fly and show off in the Silver Pony, but he’s so worked up over you that he doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Guess that’s the plan. If needed.”

“If needed.” All Tequila does is nod, but damn he really needs to talk to Ginger.

******

Jack holes up in his office, barely answering the phone and not leaving it all day, not even for lunch. Catching up on paperwork that is normally never done as he works through not being at home. Not remembering how you tasted and sounded last night. He’s even refused to pull up your camera footage, not wanting to see what you are doing. He’s miserable and is determined to stay that way.

“Thought I’d find you in here.” Champ’s gruff voice cuts through the silence long after everyone else has gone home for the night. He knew exactly where Jack would be. Especially after Tequila said the senior agent was out of sorts. “Come up to my office, Jack. We’re gonna have a drink.” It’s not a suggestion or a request. This is a direct order from this commander, and Champ turns around and heads back down the hall knowing Jack will follow.

Jack sighs and sets his pen down, ripping the reading glasses off his face and tossing them down on the folder. He had stayed cooped up in his office so he didn’t take his bad mood out on anyone so he doesn’t see why he needs to be called out onto the carpet. Still, he pushes back from his desk and follows the older man to the conference room Champ preferred over his official office. The bar cart in here was better stocked.

“Pick your poison.” Champ tells him, motioning for Jack to sit down at the conference table as he strolls over to the cart to grab a bottle and two glasses.

“Whatever your havin’.” Jack wonders what this is about, but he doesn’t ask. Just waits patiently for his boss to get to the reason in his own sweet time.

Champ grunts slightly, grabbing a bottle of ‘74 Reserve, and brings it to the table. He pours two fingers in each glass and slides one over to set in front of Jack before sitting down beside him and taking a sip from his own glass. “You’ve been hidin’ today,” he assesses after a moment of silence. “But I hear you damn near took Tequila’s head off this morning when you got in.”

“Can’t have a bad day?” Jack asks, picking up the whiskey and staring at it before taking a sip. “Woke up wrong, that’s all. I’ll apologize to the crybaby later.”

“He’s not a damn crybaby,” Champ huffs, covering his own amusement with a scowl. “I walked by your damn office, fool. And when he did come talk to me about it, it was because he was worried about you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jack scowls and shakes his head. “I had a bad morning. I’m fine. Not gonna go off and try to kill all the drug users again.”

“Not saying you would.” Holding up his hands in a show of innocence, Champ leans back all the way and stares down his nose at Jack for a second longer before he shakes his head and shrugs. “But between you and me just these walls? Just thought you might wanna know that Rye got sent off Code Black, is all.” He isn’t supposed to say. Black is black. It’s too priority and top security. But you’d been so torn up this morning and Jack’s been so out of sorts in his own way that Champ has rightfully assumed that something fairly big must’ve happened after you left the party.

His jaw nearly drops. Champ never gives information away like that. He frowns, looking back down at his glass again and feeling relieved. If you had gotten a Code Black, you couldn’t wake him up. It would have been against protocol. He swallows and finally nods. “Good to know.”

“Just don’t want you stewing over it.” The older man says, watching carefully as he sips from his glass again. “You wanna be upset with anyone, it’s me. Not her.”

“Right.” Jack drains the rest of the whiskey and the crystal hits the table slightly harder than normal. “Anything else?”

“Nah. That’s it.” There’s nothing more that Champ can really say, and now Jack needs to process. That’s just how these things work. “See ya in the morning, Daniels.”

Jack stands. “‘Night, Champ.” He walks out of the room and back down the hall towards his office, looking down at his feet as he goes.

******

It’s two weeks before Tequila and Jack are given a stand-down order and told their rescue mission won’t be necessary. Mission success, they’re told with authority, even though it took longer than expected. They don’t get more than that, though, and Jack is walking past Ginger’s lab on his way out of the office late that night when he hears your voice again for the first time in weeks. It’s tired, and quiet, but unmistakable. “Can we just get this over with, Ging?” You ask your friend quietly, knowing that decontamination and a full physical are extremely necessary considering where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. But you want to get the hell out of here and finally go talk to Jack.

He would never admit it, but he’s been living at Statesman. Barely going home to change and often refreshing the outfits that he keeps in his office for unexpected late nights. On call the entire time in case you needed him. Now you are here and Jack feels like running away. So much self doubt had built up over two weeks, he’s driven himself crazy over every little thing. Obsessing over the details of New Years.

“Once you have a clean bill of health, you go storm the ranch or whatever it is you’re going to do.” Ginger teases, full of warmth. “But I would try his office first.”

Jack frowns slightly and wonders what the hell Ginger is talking about, storming the ranch. He almost pushes the door open, but he doesn’t. Just wants to see what you will say if you know that he’s not listening.

“It’s been two weeks, Ging.” The pops and hums and beeps of her equipment punctuate your voice from inside the lab. “Every single second I haven’t been thinking about this mission I’ve been reliving that night. And I could kill Champ for sending me away Code fucking Black before I could even tell Jack how I feel about him.”

“I know it was bad timing.” He hears Ginger sigh. “But hopefully it gave you some time to think about what you’re going to say?”

Jack’s stomach twists and he feels nauseous. Wondering if you’ve decided that it was a mistake. He swallows harshly and whirls around, not wanting to hear how you plan on letting him down or friend zoning him.

“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he misses hearing you say. “That I’ve been in love with him for six years, and that I’m done being a coward about it.” This mission so easily could have killed you every single day that it became something of an eye opener. Getting back to Jack had become the most dominant and driving force in your mind at times.

Walking down to his office has Jack twisted in knots. He’s never been a coward before but he damn sure feels like running. Playing back that night in his head over and over had made him realize what he had said. More importantly, what you hadn’t said back. Walking over to his bar cart, he pours himself a heavy double and bolts it down. He’ll get wasted after you crush his hopes but that was needed so he doesn’t beg like a pathetic wretch. He needs to keep his pride somehow.

It’s twenty more minutes before he hears footsteps in the hall and hears your tentative voice calling his name. “Jack?” There’s nerves in it, anxiety hovering around you despite your triumphant mission. But you appear in his doorway looking worried and chewing your lip. “Hey…you’re still here.”

“Work’s never done.” Jack huffs, plastering on a friendly but not too friendly expression. “Haven’t seen you around in a few weeks. Mission go alright?” It’s painful to see you in that doorway, looking tired and beautiful. Reminding him of how you looked before he had fallen asleep and lost you.

“I’m home and in one piece.” It’s what you always say, but at least it’s true. He doesn’t exactly look happy to see you, though, and that makes you falter a little. Not enough to shake your resolve, but your optimism that he’ll respond with joy cracks right away. “Do you…can we talk a little?”

“Sure.” He takes off his reading glasses and stands. Moving over to the alcohol again. “Want a drink?” He asks, not looking over his shoulder at you. He sees the worry on your face and knows you are concerned about your working relationship. What he will do will be accept your wants, wish you well and promise that he will not let what happened affect your professional relationship. Then he will demand a transfer to the New York office, permanently. You nod and he pours out two drinks. “What’s on your mind, Rye?”

“Well…you are.” It seems like such an obvious answer that it almost feels silly saying it, but he won’t even look you in the eye so staring at the beginning seems like a good idea.

“Oh?” Turning around is hard, but he manages to look curious instead of sick to his stomach. “Now why would I be on your mind, sugar?” The endearment slips out and he nearly bites his tongue as he carries them over to the small sofa area.

The message is loud and clear: it really didn’t mean anything to him. Regardless, though, you have to power through. If he really didn’t mean what he said and has no interest in being with you, you’ll request a permanent transfer. Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles — anywhere but here or New York. Swallowing a sigh, you accept the glass from him but just hold it in your hands while you gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk before I had to leave,” you start, trying not to let the warmth and proximity of him get under your skin so easily. But you can’t really help it. “I did the best I could for a message to let you know what had happened, but it wasn’t much. And I’m sorry for that, too.”

His facade cracks, the scowl as quick to vanish as it appears and he scoffs. “Message received, Rye. A lone sequin on the floor. Practically like it was a dream, except for that.” He tosses back the whiskey. “Can you just get to the part where you tell me it was a mistake, you don’t want to ruin our friendship or work relationship? Or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve settled on to tell me you regret it?” His eyes are dark and pained when they finally land on you, barely resisting the urge to flee.

“On the floor?” Your brow furrowed instantly, a frown painting itself on your lips, and you set the glass in your hands aside to shift closer to him on the little couch. “Jack, I left a sequin on your nightstand.” The choice was even more horrible than you had worried it would be, apparently, because he looks so hurt he could actually cry. A fact which makes you instantly want to cry as well. “A black sequin was the best I could do for a signal. It—it must have…blown off. Stupid fucking flapper dress with all that fringe. It must have gone flying when I left the room.” There was no other breeze, no window open or fan blowing. Only you could have sabotaged yourself like that.

He doesn’t believe you and shakes his head. “Why would you leave a black-“ he trails off when it hits him. Black sequin - Code Black. Trying to tell him that you had wanted to leave a message but couldn’t. Champ had broken protocol by telling him about the Code Black and apparently you had tried to signal the same thing. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You shake your head in resignation, blowing out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want to leave. Especially not after…” Another shaky breath leaves the rest of you shaking in turn, and you shove your hands under your legs on the couch. This is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever asked a person in your entire life. “Did you…mean it? What you said?”

Jack bites his lip, wanting to ask you what you’re talking about but he can’t do that. You look distraught that he had thought you had just disappeared. “Yeah.” Jack admits quietly. “Look, I know that it’s not something you were expectin’ ta hear, and you don’t feel the same.” He rolls on with the emotions that he needs to get out. “I won’t be mad, or take it out on you. But that night….fuck.” He blows out a breath. “I got to touch you. Just like I fuckin’ dreamed of. And I couldn’t just let you think it was a heat of the moment thing for me.”

“Why do you think I don’t feel the same?” With your heart beating wildly and your shakiness only increasing, there’s a sort of explosive quality in your mind and body that you can’t quite figure out how to control. Like all you want to do is launch yourself at him for a kiss but you know you need to talk first. To get it all out in the open. To be honest with each other. “I—I honestly had no idea you thought of me as anything but a friend. I was…well…shocked is a bit of an understatement.”

Jack snorts. “I know my reputation. Hell, I crafted it. But I couldn’t flirt with you. It’s too- shit- you had me from the first time we met. I was fucking hooked and it wouldn’t have been right. You were a junior agent and -“ he shakes his head. “I was running from the kind of commitment you were made for.”

“Your reputation was built by a man who had loved his wife so deeply that he couldn’t bear the thought of loving and losing again,” you remind him quietly. You sure you hadn’t known that right away, but when you had learned about his wife and son, you understood implicitly. “But it…it never stopped me from falling in love with you. Even when I thought I’d never be more to you than an acquaintance. I considered myself damn lucky to eventually become your friend. I just thought…I thought the fact that you never, ever flirted with me…meant that it was unrequited. So I made myself okay with it. Until two weeks ago.”

“I respect you, Rye.” Jack murmurs quietly. “I didn’t want to make it seem like you were everyone else, because you weren’t.” It’s backwards and twisted, but no one ever said that he had defeated all his demons. “When I broke- I gave you everything.”

“More than you know.” A soft huff of a laugh escapes you and you shake your head again, willing your nerves to calm down even a little. “Just…please understand, Jack. That I’ve been in love with you since the second I met you. And the only reason I didn’t say it back the night we slept together is because I was so shocked to hear it from you in the first place. I thought I’d hallucinated what I wanted to hear, and then before I knew it we were asleep…and then I woke up to a Code Black.”

“I was upset.” Jack admits quietly. “Really upset.” He flushes slightly. “May have been thinkin’ some not-so-polite things until Tequila told me it was you who was slated for the mission.” He won’t tell you that Champ had broken the rules. “Convinced myself that you had run off to go save the world so you wouldn’t have to tell me that you’d had too much alcohol and that’s why you let me take you home.”

“Not at all.” Taking a chance, you reach for his hand and practically sigh in relief when he slots his fingers through yours. “I pretty much thought I’d died and gone to heaven, if I’m honest. I just kept thinking…if this only happens once, I never want to forget a single thing.” You squeeze his hand gently, wishing you could have said all this two weeks ago. “I’m sorry my message didn’t work. That’s…you have every right to think nasty things about me. I’m so sorry.”

“No I don’t.” Jack protests. “Not if you meant to be here. Not if you wanted to be here the next morning. Then it’s just a bad misunderstanding and I’m sorry.”

“Then I guess we’re both sorry.” He’ll never know that you cried all the way to the office that morning at having to leave him, you decide right now. It would only make him feel even more guilty and he doesn’t deserve that. “But I’m not sorry about what happened between us.”

“You aren’t?” He tightens his grip on your hand, relaxing slowly as you talk and he understands that this was one giant cluster fuck. He’s used to those, he can handle those. “That’s good, sugar. Because New Years was probably the best night of my life.”

“God, I hope you mean that.” Your shakiness is for more than one reason, although you needed to have this conversation first. Whatever the two of you decide will happen next is a decision made by both of you, not just you alone. “Because…Ginger couldn’t clear me…after my physical. I can’t go back on the list.”

Jack frowns, brows pulling together. “Why can’t Ginger clear you? What’s wrong?” There’s a number of things that can be fixed by Statesman tech and he’s worried that it’s something bad.

Your stomach churns with worry, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. The unmistakable advances of Statesman tech can do things that most doctors absolutely cannot, thanks to Ginger Ale, and you’re not sure whether to thank her or curse her. “It’s not that something’s wrong, technically,” you admit, giving another worried squeeze to his hand. “But we probably ought to have used that condom…”

Jack’s eyes widen and they drop to your stomach, discerning the meaning of your comment. You aren’t a liar and Jack would believe you if you said you didn’t sleep with someone else, but he’s confused. “Sugar- how?” He chokes out. “I got snipped when I joined Statesman.”

“When was the last time you had your sperm count checked?” You had made Ginger do the test three times, but the result was always the same. Your birth control failed and Jack’s second kid is already growing, if very slowly. “The chances of a vasectomy failing are less than one percent, but it can still happen.”

Jack frowns and then rolls his eyes and groans. “The chamber.” He remembers. “When I got shot and then- uh, put back together.” He shakes his head. “Ging said I might need to get it checked but I dadgum forgot.” He bites his lip and tries not to freak out over the fact that you are pregnant after your one and only time together. “What do you want, sugar?” He asks.

“Not more than you’re willing to give freely.” The answer is that you want all of him. Every single bit. Love and a life and a family. But you know that even if Jack does love you, he’s never loved anyone the way he loved his wife. And losing Maria nearly destroyed him, so he may not be willing to take that chance again. “But I…unless you really object…I’m keeping the baby. Even if you don’t want a commitment or anything. I just…you’re right about me. I want a family and if this is my only chance I don’t want to give that up. Especially not if I get even the littlest piece of you with it.”

“You think I would-“ he shakes his head. “No, I would never force you, one way or the other.” He frowns. “I was asking if you wanted to have a baby. And if you think I’m gonna sit back and let you raise it by yourself, you must have hit your dadgum head.”

“I want this baby.” It had only taken about ten seconds after learning it existed to determine that, even if you’re still grappling with the reality of it. “And I want you.” You inch closer to him on the couch. “However you want to be together. That part is up to you.”

“It’s been a long damn time since I’ve thought about being a daddy, sugar.” There’s a slight smirk on his face but he doesn’t make the obvious crude joke. “But I’m pretty traditional when you break it down. I’m not gonna want to be apart from you and our baby.”

He might not have made the joke but you still laugh, having made the sugar daddy connection in your mind easily enough. “I know it’s a lot, Jack. And we didn’t plan it. But…” All you can do is shrug your shoulders slightly, looking up at him with such obvious hope and even more obvious water behind your eyes. “But, I love you.”

“I meant it, baby girl.” He promises you, reaching out to caress your cheek and then cup it. “I love you. I love you so much, sugar.” Licking his lips, his eyes drop down to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

"I wish you would." practically beaming at him, you lean in and let the moment wash over you. Jack's lips against yours. His hands on your skin. His baby - your baby - is already starting to grow.

Jack pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours and groaning softly. “Sugar, you’re gonna have my baby.” He whispers against your lips in awe. “Just the one time, one time between your thighs and you are carrying my baby.”

“One time is all it takes.” You can’t help the broad way you smile, giggling softly against his lips as you steal another kiss.

“I don’t regret it.” He promises. “I don’t regret you.” He smiles as he kisses you again. “We really did shake things up for New Years, didn’t we?”

“Just a little bit.” Another laugh escapes you, and you lean into his side only to be rewarded with Jack’s arms encircling you and holding you close. “I don’t regret any of it. Except maybe not making my message a whole lot clearer.”

“We’ll get better at communicatin’.” Jack promises with a smile. “We’re partners now.”

“Do you want to go get dinner, maybe?” The end of a mission can be crazy even when it’s successful, and you just want to try to relax tonight. Especially with everything changing in your personal life too, apparently. “My treat?”

Jack scoffs and shakes his head. “You ain’t paying, sugar.” He huffs. “Not while you’re with me. If you want dinner, we can go out, or I can take you home and throw some steaks on the grill.”

“I kind of want to celebrate,” you admit, feeling silly about it even though it’s the truth. “If that’s okay?”

“Then we’ll go out and celebrate.” Jack promises before he frowns at something you had said. “Why would you have thought I would never be interested in you?”

“Because…” It feels sillier than the celebration thing now that you know the truth. Silly and even a little pointless, but he asked so you’ll tell him. “Because you flirted with every woman in the world besides me. Which Ginger said is how she knew you were interested in me. But I didn’t believe her.”

“You know you’re wrong, don’t cha?” Jack asks you. “When you said that you get sent on assignments to be invisible? You’re sent on the assignments you are given because you get the job done. Champ knows that if he gives you a task, it will be done.”

“Whatever the reason is, he’ll have to do without me for about a year.” It isn’t worth having a debate over your lack of self esteem with him right now, and you especially don’t want to ruin the mood by crying anything other than happy tears, so you just redirect the conversation altogether. “This baby is my top priority.”

“Our top priority.” He corrects you. He’s nervous, terrified really, but there’s no one he’d rather have a happy accident with than you. “Our New Year’s baby.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

[dilfl0v3rss]

cleaning day

summary: cleaning day with connie

cw: fluff

word count: 1.6k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

you loved saturday’s. it was connie’s day off and you had the whole day to get things done around the house. right now you were in the kitchen washing the dishes that were used to make breakfast. the smell of weed and cleaning products dancing in the air as you dried your hands off to go wake up your sleeping man for breakfast. connie was knocked out in the bed, laying wildly on his back in nothing but boxers and his gold chains sprawled out on his chest. he looked so peaceful, but today you were going to put him to work. you lightly tap his inked chest, blunt sitting between your lips as you watching him stir awake. “get up nigga, and hurry and eat your breakfast because you helping today.”

you balanced the blunt in your mouth as you spoke. standing with one hand on your hip while the other held onto a broomstick. connie stared you up and down. you looked so sexy when you were bossy. booty shorts squeezing your ass while your breasts peeked out the bottom of your loose crop top. your pretty pink scarf wrapped around your long knotless braids. the sight of you made his junior twitch in his underwear. “hellooo. boy i know you hear me. wake that ass up.” before you can tap him again, connie lightly smacks your hand away.

“i’m up mami damnnn.” his voice was so deep in the morning, making you contemplate whether you should continue cleaning or just say “fuck it” and spend the day in bed with him, but you quickly came back to reality. you already did that last saturday and you refused to let it happen twice in a row. plus, you hated cleaning on sundays. sundays were supposed to be days for you and connie to relax before having to go back to work on monday, and you fully intended on spending the entire day binge watching criminal minds with him.

“go eat” was all you said as you turned around to start sweeping the kitchen. before you got too far, connie gave your ass a hard tap, eyes practically glued to the sight of it jiggling from the contact. “and good morning to you too sexy”. you feigned indifference as you left the room, but your stomach was really doing flips. connie was just as sexy as can be at all times of the day.

by the time you finished sweeping the kitchen, connie was finishing up the rest of his plate, still in just his boxers as he puts it in the sink. “ima wash it later” he says quickly before you can complain. he knew you like the back of his hand. “aight well since i’m done sweeping you can mop this floor” connie nodded to your demand, walking towards the cabinet to grab some cleaning supplies before walking to the closet to get the mop. “unt uhh what you using to clean the floor?”

connie looked at you with a confused face, feeling that you should already know his product of choice. “you know i only use fabuloso mami.” he replied, holding up the container full of purple liquid with a smile. every time connie mopped an area, he used wayyyy to much product. a simply bottle of fabuloso should last at least a week and a half before you have to start watering it down, but when connie gets to it he can use up to half the bottle in a day.

the smell reminded him of when he was younger. the sound of old merengue music softly waking him. before long, his mom would bust into the door, fussing at him over how dirty his room was. she’d eventually have him get up to help her clean around the house. the smell of lavender fabuloso wafting into his nose as he would clean basically every part of the house with it until the end of the day. “ven aquí, chico loco. ayuda a mamá a hacer la cena.” his mom would say, apron on as she lightly shoved the wooden spoon towards him. “vale mamá”.

“don’t use too much baby. you be using damn near the whole bottle on just the kitchen” your voice coaxed connie out of his thoughts. “vale, mami” he mindlessly says before shooing you away. “i-i know i’m doin’ baby. and gimme my slides” he says, staring down at your small feet fitting loosely in his huge slides.

you raise an brow at his words before kick them off your feet towards him, waking to your room to get your slippers. as you slide your feet into your much better fitting slippers, you hear the music in the living room change, your 90s r&b being switched out for some of connie’s favorites. you were going to protest until you hear the familiar lyrics of one of connie’s favorite songs booming through the speakers. ashing your blunt, you made your way to the source of the music.

la vaca by mala fe played loudly in the living room as you listened to connie say the begining lines word for word. “ yo que estaba durmiendo en mi sabrosa cama. y me llaman para este tremendo tema, ah, ja, ja. c’mere mami dance wit me” connie only really loved this song because when you first met him you bragged about knowing a lot of spanish music.

you were embarrassed to say the least when the only two found in your playlist were suavemente and la vaca. connie didn’t judge though, singing both of them word for word in front of you to show that he knew them as well. he eventually taught you a bunch of songs he knew to widen your horizon. you smiled as you quickly made your way to him, holding each of his hands in yours as the two of you moved around quickly to the song. loud giggles can be heard as you watched connie get more into the song.

“pero ven acá tú, ¿y cuál es tu plan? ¡ay señorita! ven para-” he was so cute, but the two of you had a lot to do today. “okayyyy papa let’s get back to work” you cut him off. the need to get everything done today overpowering your yearning for some fun. “we can dance tomorrow if we get this done now.” connie frowned at your statement, not wanting to stop just yet, and before it ended, he quickly let go of you to add a song to the top of the queue. “un momento, mami…un momento…” connie mumbled his echo as you rolled your eyes, quietly waiting until you heard another familiar song begin to play.

you made a confused face as you begin to question your boyfriends choice. “you wanna clean to this? it’s softer than what we usually listen to.” connie takes your hand in his, placing his other palm in the middle of your back. obsesión by aventura playing softly around the house as he spoke. “we clean later. we bachata now.” he whispered calmly, the corner of his mouth slightly lifting as you looked up at him. you started smiling ear to ear as he moved your body to the music. this song always reminded you of your first date with connie.

he was driving you home, hand tangled in yours as the song quietly played through his speakers. you had no idea what was being said, but you liked it. you watched as connie sang along to the lyrics, much deeper voice portraying his own version of the song in a different pitch. he was so handsome. connie noticed you tapping your fingers to the beat on your thigh as he pulled into your driveway, instantly coming up with an idea for you to enjoy the song in a deeper sense.

“thanks for tonight, i had a great time boo.”you smiled before trying to leave the car, but before you can open the door, you were haulted by his hand squeezing yours. “of course hermosa…but it’s not over yet.” you watched connie exit the car, making his way to your side before eventually opening your door for you. “come on out mami. i wanna show you sum.” you take his outstretched hand as you exit the car as well.

“boy what you about to do?” connie shushes you before reaching into the car to turn the song up louder. “you dance?” before you could reply, you found your hand already in his with another strong hand in the middle of your back. “i-i don’t know how.” you panic, but you’re quickly soothed by connie lips on your forehead. “don’t worry i’ll teach you. just follow me.”

the two of you ended up dancing with the song on replay for about an hour, getting the hang of it within the first twenty minutes or so. before he let you go, connie made sure to walk you to your door, planting a light kiss on your lips. he looked into your eyes one more time. “ima see you friday, yea?” you look away, getting shy from the kiss. “mhm friday.” you haven’t forgotten the song since that day. labeling it as the song that started it all for the two of you.

“cmon hermosa just one dance.” connie whispered, gently pulling you from your thoughts. instead of fighting with him, you let the music take you as you looked into his eyes. muscle memory kicking in as you repeated the same steps he taught you that night. you knew the two of you weren’t going to finish cleaning today, but you didn’t care. feeling glad to dance the rest of the day away with the man you love. plus, there was always sunday.

[sageworld]

Christmas Kids • Rafe Cameron. (part I)

“the christmas kids were nothing but a gift,

and love is a tower where all of us can live.”

he was really sweet in the beginning but then, something changed.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: unprotected sex (p in v), oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, use of the word “daddy”, underage drinking

christmas kids masterlist; here

06/03/2021

rafe cameron. he was your everything, your high school sweetheart, your first, the love of your life & now your fiancé. your skin was glowing as you all toasted your champagne glasses.

“to my soon to be wife.” rafe cheered as you all clinked glasses. everything was perfect, your closest friends and family all in attendance. rafe had rented out the country clubs haul as a surprise to you. you smiled as you took a sip from your glass.

you danced the night away, loving the attention you were getting, your friends gushing to you about how you found the perfect man, the congratulations from his friends and of course the attention from rafe.

“you look beautiful tonight.” rafe compliments as you two slow dance together. you don’t respond, just cradle you face into his neck giving a soft kiss.

“i can’t believe we’re engaged.” you’re still in a small shock, you knew it was coming but certainly not tonight. “i know but here we are kitty.” kitty, that was a nickname rafe had given you way back from high school that had just stuck for whatever reason.

you and rafe had met your freshman year, he was a junior. you just caught his eye and he caught yours, instantly becoming inseparable. now rafe was nearing 21 while you were 18, fresh out of high school.

you smiled down at your ring , you knew rafe’s family had money to burn but you couldn’t help but wonder how much they must’ve spent on your ring that your friends had all complimented.

you continue to cradle your face in his neck, peppering soft open mouthed kisses. “such a darling girl.” rafe compliments you, hands going down to your lower back.

it’s all but 15 minutes later, you find yourself sneaking into the empty men’s bathroom with rafe. the two urinals to the left of the room and one stall directly across.

you moan into the kiss as rafe locks the stall door behind you, you both so needy for eachother as his hands explore your body while your hands hold his face.

“i fucking love you.” rafe groans “i love you too.” yours hands fall from his face and begin to unbuckle his pants. he smiles as you crouch down on your heels, not letting your knees touch the dirty floor. “we have to be quick.” rafe reminds, anyone could walk in at any second or people will realize the couple of the hour is missing.

“hasn’t stopped us before.” you’re mischievousness all said in the smirk on your face as you pull down his pants and boxers. “god, this is the reason why i chose you.” rafe taunts jokingly. “and this-.” you grab the base of his thick cock. “is why i said yes.” you giggle before putting the tip in your mouth, suckling on it.

you moan around him as you take him as deep as you can, helping yourself by jerking him off with one hand while using the other to reach into your panties and rub your clit.

“you are so fucking sexy.” rafe groans, mouth open as he looks down at you, taking on hand to the back of you head to guide you.

if anyone walked in the sounds alone would give it away, your gags, the sound of saliva dripping out of your mouth: the sound of your throat being completely abused by rafe.

“take ‘em out for me, baby.” rafe groans before taking his free hand to roughly pull down the spaghetti straps that belong to your baby pink mini dress. he grabs and pulls at the newly freed flesh, hyper fixating on your nipple, pulling at it.

“fuuuck.” rafe brings his finger up to his mouth, licking it before returning it back to your nipple, rubbing it. the pleasure is so intense between that and you fingering your self. “i’d love to cum all over this pretty face but id rather do it in your little pussy, baby.” rafe says, stopping you and pulling you up to stand at attention.

you bite your lip, smile on your rafe as he turns you around, bending you over and pulling your panties down to your ankles. “ready?” rafe asks & smacks your ass when you shake it as a way to say yes.

you were grateful for your heels giving you the extra height, knowing you guys wouldn’t have been able to do this without it.

you both gasp as he enters you, and his thrusts aren’t kind. they’re rough, demanding nothing but your guys’ highs as he has one death grip on your hip and one in your hair.

“feel good baby?” rafe taunts, seeing you already go dumb on his dick. “does my baby like her daddy’s dick?”

“feels… feels sooo…feels sooo good.” you moan out. “mmm, i bet. you know what would make it feel even better kitty,?” “hmmm?” you hum in response. “if you touched yourself, touch your pretty pussy baby.”

you do as instructed, rubbing to match his fast pace. “good girl.” rafe smiles bending over so your backs on his stomach. “now use your other hand and play with those titties baby.”

the view rafe’s getting must’ve given him enough to send him over, pounding into you as fast as he possibly can.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum kitty.” rafe groans “gonna fill up this pretty pussy.

“m-mee-ahh!” you squeak as you tried to warn rafe. he groans as he fills your little warm squirts coming up as he fills you up with his cum. “t-oo, me too.” you finish your sentence a bit late.

you both moan as he pulls his now semi hard dick out slowly, watching all the fluids dribble down your legs. “whoops.” rafe smiles as you giggle, pinching your nipple. “my precious kitty.” kissing the back of your head.

you two stumble and rush to gather back to a somewhat presentable state. “let me see baby” rafe says turning you to face him, fixing the hair on the side of your face that we’re once so neatly placed. “pretty as ever.” he smiles, peppering a kiss to your forehead. “let’s get going and hope they didn’t notice we were gone for too long.” he grabs your hand to direct you out the stall.

the rest of the night went smooth. aside from the comments topper and kelce made on yours and rafe’s disappearance.

you giggle as rafe carry’s you braid style over the threshold of your guys’ house. it wasn’t long ago the two of you decided it was fitting time to move in, considering rafe was making a generous and steady income from the family company.

it was truly a lovely home, one you intended to stay in forever. the high ceilings, the foyer with the long descending staircase, the professional kitchen with three ovens, the pool and jacuzzi, the list went on and on.

you knew lots of girls would kill for your life, 18 & you’re future as a housewife was practically ensured with the million dollar estate and new engagement. a lot of girls were envious, something they’d always been to you and that had only grew more once you and rafe had started dating years ago.

bzz bzzz bzzz

rafe’s phone buzzed as he laid you down on your leather couch. as he checked you saw the look in his eye. the look he’d worn on his face more than a few times. the look of worry that you didn’t smell another woman’s perfume on him, the look that he wore praying you didn’t notice the red lipstick on his collar when he got home late from work he’d tell you.

he quickly declined the call, putting his phone face down on the glass table. “who’s that?” you raise up on your elbows. “just top, he probably wants to know if i’m gonna go to the club tomorrow.” he smiles laying down on top of you. “well, why didn’t you answer?” you lay back down. “well, excuse me mrs.cameron for wanting time with my new wife.” “fiancé.” you correct, feeling your mood souring.

“my kitty, no attitude tonight. let’s celebrate us, we can do whatever you want. relax, watch a movie, cuddle…go in the jacuzzi.” rafe offers smiling knowing you never turn down the jacuzzi.

you ponder, you did just get a whole haul worth of bikinis & you had a red one you’d been dying to wear for him. “hmm fine, let me go get changed.”

you dress & adjust the straps to the barley there bikini that fit more like sting on your hips. you make your way down stairs and out of the house. you smile in the dark lighting. rafe already in the spa, a bottle of champagne opened & two glasses still bubbling.

“come in kitty.” he stands, holding your hand as you go up the four steps and into the hot water. “you know i’ll never love anyone else as much as i love you right?” rafe mumbles into your neck as he pulls you into his lap. “i know, rafey. i love you too.” you smile, pecking his lips.

rafe hands you a glass before taking the other in his own. “to our new life.” he clinks your glasses.

“to our new life.”

-

after a late delivery chapter one is up, feed back is always welcomed and appreciated!

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'

Suchitra Sen (Harano Sur, Chaowa Pawa)—Suchitra Sen! She had a 25-year career in Bengali films, and was at the height of popularity for a solid two decades as half of the wildly beloved pair of Uttam-Suchitra, who were practically the entire romantic genre of Bengali films by themselves. She acted in literary adaptations, romantic comedies, (melo)dramas and inspired-by-current-events films. She was the first Indian actress to receive an international award at the Moscow International Film Festival. In 1978, after the release of her last film (a box-office flop) she pulled a Garbo and put herself out of the public eye completely. She made no appearances, gave no interviews, refused awards, all of it. She didn't even show up for her daughter's or grand-daughters' debuts! She was taken for funerary rites in a covered hearse! The glamour! The mystery! That blinding smile!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Suchitra Sen:

Not to take away from her costars in Devdas (1955), but the great Indian cinematic tradition of Tragic Romantic Yearning would not, I argue, be what it is without Suchitra Sen's performance in that film. I root for things to turn out better for her every time, even though I know how things are going to go.

A Bengali cinema icon. Liked crows (per Gulzar, "It was an astonishing sight. The crows used to pick at the grapes from her hand").

Linked gifset

She once rejected Raj Kapoor's movie offer (one of the most successful actor and director at the time). She was quoted saying, “In men, I don’t look for beauty. I look for intelligence and sharp conversations. I had refused Raj Kapoor’s offer almost immediately. He came to my residence offering a lead role and, as I took my seat, he suddenly sat near my foot and offered me a bouquet of roses while offering the role. I rejected the offer. I did not like his personality. The way he behaved – sitting near my foot – did not befit a man.”

Legendary poet, lyricist, director and writer Gulzaar had this to say about her "Glad that my ‘Sir’—that’s what I call her— got the Dada Saheb Phalke award during her lifetime. Contrary to people’s perceptions, Suchitra Sen is an extremely warm and very very friendly person. I adore and respect her. But she has the right to choose her friends. Surely she’s justified in keeping away from every Tom, Dick and Harry. She’s the only example of such quiet dignity in show-biz. That’s why the media compares her with Great Garbo. Suchitra Sen is my Sir. I’ll explain. During the shooting of Aandhi she started calling me Sir. Everyone in Kolkata calls her Madame. Since I’m her junior I requested her not to call me Sir. But she insisted. (We always converse in Bengali). So I call her Sir and she calls me Sir.”

Linked musical number [won't let me display embedded for some reason]

Cyd:

Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.

She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.

Dancing in the Dark clip:

She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.

Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!

She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:

and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge

The reader has a bit too much to drink and ends up making a deal she might regret...

Originally, it had started out as a good bit of fun. 

The boys had just returned from a mission, broken down and bone tired but glad it was over. It was one of the more rough ones, where they lost more friends than anyone would have liked, but a success was a success. 

To celebrate they went down to a nearby karaoke bar, and somehow they convinced you to come out with them, even though your specific skill set hadn’t been required on the mission. 

You turned them down multiple times, stating that it was your self care night (to which they responded that having fun is self care) but really, who were you to deny the four men anything?

Which is how you found yourself standing on a stage screaming the lyrics to “Sexy” from mean girls. 

Quite honestly, you were doing a pretty damn good job, which was evident by the encouraging screams of both military personnel and civilians alike. the entire bar seemed to thrum with life as you sung and dance, and the task force just watched in awe. 

maybe you had had a bit too much to drink. 

Finally, after the song was over (and after a standing ovation) you stumbled back to the corner booth, laughing at the boy’s bewildered expressions. 

“What, never heard me sing?” You asked, sliding into the booth with only a smidge less grace than you usually possessed. 

“Well lass, i wasn’t under the impression you could sing,” Johnny fired back, smiling wildly. “was fuckin amazin’ kid!”

You smiled at him and ducked your head in a mock bow. “I took theaters in high school, it’s nothing special.” 

All four heads snapped to you so quickly one of them had to have gotten whiplash. 

“You. Took theater?” Price said, fixing you with a disbelieved look. 

“Yes, captain. Yes i did.” You lean back in the booth, just now noticing that Ghost has draped his arm over your seat. 

“Now this is gotta see,” Gaz said, laughing to himself. 

“Oh- good luck finding anything. I got rid of all those photos years ago.” They all look at each other, before turning back to you. 

“Is that a challenge?” You hear Ghost’s deep voice rumble, dangerously close to your ear. 

“Yes…” you squeak out, not dairing to move away from him. “Actually, let’s make it just that. Whoever can find more than 10 photos of me before my junior year of high school wins.” 

They all look at each other again, before Johnny speaks up. “Why tha’ year?” 

You just shrug. “Changed schools then, looked like a completely different person.” 

They all nod. “What do we get if we win?” Gaz questioned. 

You took a moment to think it over, pretending to tap on your chin and everything. “I’ll do whatever you want for a day.”

Maybe you did have too much to drink. 

Their eyes practically bug out of their heads, even Ghost looks shocked at the prize. 

“Whatever… we want?” He questions, his eyes still wide. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“Mhm,” You say, nodding. “As long as it’s not a mission day or something, I have to do whatever you tell me to do for twenty-four hours. Kind of like an ‘I cant say no’ day.”

They all not hurriedly, quickly agreeing to the plan. 

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal!” You smile, downing the lasts of your drink. 

(may be a series i have a few ideas for this)

My Masterlist

[allieebobo]

Merry Crisis—Cast of characters

Romance-focused x Slice-of-life x Queer x Non-Euro-centric x Character-based

Demo | Features | Dev log | Back to Main Post | COG forum | Dedicated tumblr | Ko-fi

Credit: The wonderful amazing INSANELY talented @dumplingcatho made these STUNNING character portraits!! I am still reeling from how dang good she is. I swear she probably made a deal with the devil for this talent but I shall not question it.

Nat [M/F]

The soulmate/ex/best friend.

Your ex. Your parents never approved of them, but you suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. Despite the breakup, you’re still friends, and worse still - you still live with them in a tiny shoebox apartment. New York rent, man—it's hard to say no even though you know you should be moving on, and moving out.

Height: 6′2 (M) | 5′11 (F)

Nationality & race: African-American

Occupation: Post-doc fellow, working towards becoming a tenure-track professor.

Description:

Warm, twinkling eyes, and big, infectious laugh. Can swing from nerdy charm to extreme goofyness at the drop of a pin.

Loving, thoughtful, and kind to a fault. Relaxed, gentle demeanour

The kind of friend—and partner—you can trust with your life.

An incurable optimist.

Loves people, art/movies (especially talking about them with friends), food/cooking, their two dogs. 

Nat's dogs

Kiho [M]

Breed: Cairn Terrier

Age: 8

Description: Proud, small, intelligent, standoffish, with a stern grandpa energy. Apparently, a reader/player told me long ago that Kiho means "big boss" in Finnish colloquial slang and that was so perfect that it stuck. If Kiho were human he'd wear an old patagonia vest and spend his weekends fishing (not very adeptly).

Liz [F]

Breed: Border collie

Age: 3 (adopted when MC and Nat were already together.)

Description: Not exactly literal golden retriever energy but... close enough. A ray of sunshine, playful, easygoing, happy-go-lucky and a voracious eater (she eats everything), loves playing in puddles and has a special love for chewed up tennis balls.

Qiu [M/F]

The estranged first love / soulmates.

Your first-love (or platonic soulmate), from junior college. You’d not kept in touch, and now, they’re ridiculously successful. But, according to your intel, still…single.

Height: 5′8 (M) | 5′4 (F)

Nationality & race: Chinese Singaporean

Occupation: Public prosecutor

Description:

Extremely intelligent, with a sharp, cutting wit.

Ambitious, determined, and a bit cynical / jaded.

Dark, piercing gaze, with a completely unreadable expression.

Formal, a little bit stiff, and always impeccably dressed.

Aloof, almost intimidating presence despite their relatively average height/slim build.

Loves a job well done, being useful, stimulating conversation, and solving problems. Peace and quiet.

Shay [M/F]

The charismatic stranger.

Your neighbour (Auntie Pearl)'s new tenant. Sexy, confident, and unabashedly unconventional. Your mother definitely does not approve, but you might not be able to resist their roguish charms.

Height: 5′10 (M) | 5′6 (F)

Nationality & race: Chinese (Peranakan) Singaporean

Occupation: Lead singer & guitarist in a rock band

Description:

Thick, sweeping eyebrows, expressive eyes that twinkle at the edges, and a permanent roguish half-grin.

Tan, athletic, with an undeniable swagger to their walk. Has a penchant for sleeveless muscle tees. Good with their hands (and... possibly other parts of their body).

Adventurous, resilient, unflinchingly honest, and uncompromisingly true to themselves / the people they love.

Loves the outdoors (and constant motion), music (especially rock, reggae and soul), dancing, soccer, nature/plants (including gardening).

Other asks

[steddiesmuttyseptember]

WEEK THREE MASTERLIST

FICS

The scariest thing on the other side of Hawkins by @dame-zoom-a-lot | Rated E | no cw | tags: Talon Kink, Human/Monster Romance, Monsterfucker Steve Harrington, Monster Eddie Munson, Lingerie, Rough Sex, Insecure Eddie Munson, The Upside Down, Under-negotiated Kink

Copy that by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated E | no cw | tags: Office AU; Janitor Eddie; Junior Boss Steve; Secret Relationship; Semi-public sex; Steve in lingerie; Groping; Manhandling; Dirty talk; Dry humping; Inappropriate treatment of office equipment

Beautiful Boy by @runninriot | Rated E | no cw | tags: shy eddie munson, lovingly mean steve harrington, dom/sub undertones, sexual content, self confidence issues, body worship

Southern Hospitality by @scoops-aboy86 | Rated M | cw: weight gain, belly kink, stuffing kink, belly play | tags: chubby steve harrington, fat steve harrington, feeder eddie munson, alcohol, referenced spanking, masturbation, food as a love language, hedonism, steve harrington has bad parents, brief nancy being tactless

Lovers Forever, Face to Face by @adverbally | Rated E | no cw | tags: Eddie in lingerie, body insecurity, mirror sex, body worship, dirty talk, buttplug, anal sex

midnight sun by @hawkinsbnbg | Rated E | no cw | tags: mutual pining, fwb to lovers, rockstar Eddie, escort Steve, mean dom Eddie, soft dom Eddie, brat Steve, Steve in lingerie, Steve wears makeup, feminization, stockings, high heels, butt plugs, rough sex, painal, body worship, rimming, spanking, hair pulling, praise kink, pain kink, a bit of foot fetish, anal gaping

Patterns in the Ivy by @griefabyss69 | Rated E | cw: Public sex, implied/referenced drug usage (weed), Eddie is a drug dealer, mentions of Steve's parents being terrible | tags: college au, getting together, masturbation, oral sex, kissing, anal sex, light bondage, outdoor sex, anal plug

Face to Face in Secret Places by @adverbally | Rated E | no cw | tags: set pre-S3, established relationship, in public (school library), fear of getting caught, exhibitionism (but no voyeurism), making out, dry humping, oral sex

Put On Something Sexy by @v3llichor | Rated E | no cw | tags: Panty Kink, Lingerie, Strip Tease, Anal Sex, references to past offscreen partners and stancy

Slutty Little Mouse by @fkinkindagauche | Rated E | no cw | tags: blow jobs, gags

Therapy by @tinytalkingtina | Rated E | no cw | tags: Dom Eddie/Sub Steve, disabled Eddie, sexual roleplay, established relationship, rope bondage, forced nudity/stripping, interrogation/intentional callbacks to S3 Russian torture, cock & ball torture, cock rings, painplay, pwp, aftercare

In Our Defense, There Was Nothing Else to Do by @intermittentmania | Rated E | cw: graphic depictions of violence | tags: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Eddie Munson as Deadpool, Steve Harrington as Wolverine, Switching, Blood and Violence, Knifeplay, Cutting, Rough Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

So Jealous by @fkinkindagauche | Rated E | cw: BDSM (heavy-ish), jealousy play, third party doesn’t realize jealousy play is happening but they are in it for a very short amount of time and nothing actually happens with them aside from some dancing, consensual slut shaming | tags: deep throating, anal sex, rough sex, BDSM, sub Steve Harrington, mean Dom Eddie Munson, aftercare, coming untouched, come marking, subspace, slapping, hair pulling, jealousy kink, spitting, established relationship

standin' at that alter, or we will run away by @hawkinsbnbg | Rated E | no cw | tags: exes to lovers, bathroom sex, daddy kink, barebacking, creampie, top Eddie, possessive Eddie, bottom Steve, babygirl Steve, steddie in love

Put to use by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated E | no cw | tags: Roleplay; Consensual non-con; Mean dom!Steve; Sub!Eddie; Face fucking; Hair pulling; Slapping; Degradation; Humiliation; Coming in pants; Aftercare

No Loose Ends by @thisapplepielife | Rated E | cw: Post S4, Sexual Content, Underage Recreational Alcohol and Weed Use | tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Florida!!!, Hiding Out, Healing, Steve & The Boys of Corroded Coffin Taking Care of Eddie, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson

The String to Strike Within Me by @adverbally | Rated E | no cw | tags: alternate universe - gender changes, female steve harrington, female eddie munson, bdsm, dom steve, sub eddie, rough sex, strap-on, vaginal sex, light degradation, begging, subspace, praise kink

hidden lace by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | no cw | tags: established relationship, secret relationship, semi-public sex, car sex, anal fingering, anal sex, anal plug, fluff, unprotected sex

Stiff by Day, Stiffer at Night by @oralmisery | Rated E | no cw | tags: Smut, Humor, Lingerie, Blow jobs, Hand jobs, Brat Steve Harrington, Bathing/Washing, Light Dom/Sub undertones

our bodies are oh so close and tight by @miss-bushido | Rated E | no cw

Only Me by @runninriot | Rated E | no cw | tags: sub Eddie Munson, mean dom Steve Harrington, restraints, nipple clamps, impact play, mild degradation kink, established relationship

Expectations by @steddie-island | Rated E | no cw | tags: Dom Eddie Munson, sub Steve Harrington, rough sex

ART

Rough and Lingerie by @saku-rhyth | Rated M | explicit version on twitter

Lingerie by @alicetallulaafterdark | Rated M | other links available

Lingerie by @arelliann | Rated M

[charrlote365]

One Step Deeper

Reference Idol: fromis_9 LEE CHAEYOUNG Word Count: 10.513

Tags: Pranks, feet, Kpop idol, fantasy, fromis_9, Lee Chaeyoung

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, the kind where the sunlight filters through the curtains just enough to cast a golden glow over the room. I had been lazying around in my living room, surrounded by my collection of Marvel action figures, each meticulously assembled and proudly displayed on the shelves. The doorbell rang, breaking the silence.

"Coming!" I called out, pushing myself off the couch and heading towards the door.

As soon as I peeked from the door hole before opening it, I could see there stood Chaeyoung in front of my door, her bright smile lighting up her face. She was wearing a casual outfit, and a straw hat. Yeah, summer has arrived, and she already look hot in her outfit. Ehem, hot, I mean literally hot since its 38C outside today. Yet, still managed to look effortlessly chic, as always. Fate works in a mysterious way, and somehow Chaeyoung and I had been 'close' for years, long before she became an idol. It feels like as if I'm her guardian angel. Despite her busy schedule, we still made time to hang out whenever possible.

"Hey there, stranger danger," she greeted, stepping inside. "I brought some snacks!"

"Hey! Stranger danger?? You're even more dangerous person here," I teased back, stepping aside to let her in. "Snacks, huh? Aww you really know the way to my heart."

We settled into the living room, munching on chips and catching up on life. It wasn’t long before Chaeyoung, ever the prankster, suggested we play a game to spice things up.

"You don't have games around to play? Boring. How about Truth or Dare?" she suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Alright," I agreed, knowing full well that with Chaeyoung, this game could go anywhere.

We took turns, the questions and dares starting off innocently enough. She dared me to sing a snippet of one of her songs in the most dramatic way possible, and I dared her to do a silly dance routine. Laughter filled the room, each round bringing us closer to the inevitable escalation.

It was Chaeyoung’s turn to dare me again. She grinned wickedly, and I knew I was in for it.

"I dare you lay on the floor and my feet right on your dick," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief holding laugh.

I raised an eyebrow, a sense of foreboding creeping in. "What did you just say????"

"You don't dare?? Huh, pussy," she replied, her grin widening.

Reluctantly, I stood up, and laying on the floor. This situation is really bad for me, because although it's degrading, I found it to be sexy and exciting. I dont know what Chaeyoung is thinking, she maybe went crazy after walking under that hot weather outside.

Chaeyoung stood up, slipping off her casual shoes to reveal a pair of sleek, brown heels with some leather laces around it and I could see her toe nails painted black, making the whole feet set looking elegant yet deadly to my heart.

"Since I'm in good mood now, let me spare you this time, but if you lose the next round, I’m stepping on your dick," she declared, her tone both playful and serious.

My heart raced. This was a high-stakes game now. We started the next round, the tension palpable. The question was simple, but my nerves got the better of me, and I gave the answer.

Chaeyoung burst out laughing, seeing my defeat. "Looks like I win!"

I watched, half in horror, half in excitement, as she positioned her heel above my delicate junior. With a teasing glance in my direction, she applied pressure, the crunch of my pepe echoing in the room. My beloved junior is being crushed by her heels, and I couldn't help my self to let a moan out.

"Ahh.. Chaeng ahh.. No, Chaeng! Stop! Please, I'm begging you!" I yelled, as I reached out my hand and gripped her legs, feigning desperation.

She paused for a moment, her heel still on the top of my dick. "Oh? Are you really begging me?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Yes! Think of my future! Our future! Our kids!" I pleaded dramatically, my hands clasped her legs even harder.

Chaeyoung laughed, a bright, infectious sound. "You're so dramatic! I know you're enjoying it right," she said, pressing down even harder slowly.

"Chaeyoung, nooo!" I continued, my voice a mix of genuine concern and playful exaggeration. "You're a monster!"

I could feel her heels from my dick skin, the texture is hard, and the way she was stepping hard on it while rubbing them on my junior making me more excited, the pain was turning into tickles, which slowly grew into ecstasy. Without even realizing it, my body arched back as I push my crotch even harder on the surface of her heels and matching the rubbing rhyme of her foot on my crotch. I've reached my limit and my eyes started to roll back as my body twitched hard, I finally came. I had never come that hard in my whole life, that's the most satisfying thing ever. And you know what? She realized what just happened.

"Ohh..You actually look like you're enjoying this," she teased, stepping back and surveying the damage. My cum was over all the places. It squirted out from my short pants onto the floor and all over her feet temple.

I, who still trying to catch a breath, shaking my head. "Maybe I am. It's weirdly satisfying, but sorry, I messed up your heels and my cement is now all over your feet."

She raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Yeah? and whose fault is that? Now lick clean them up"

I nodded, still feeling the adrenaline rush. "Okayy!! Bring it on!", I then licked her starting from her thighs. She was holding herself from laughing from the tickles. Oh my good lawd she's indeed an idol. Her legs were shaved clean so they were so smooth and pale white. My tongue was surfing on her skin like I was licking a giant soap bar mixed with her skin pheromones.

"Ahh.. that tickles", she said with her breath getting faster. She must be feeling it too. I continued licking to her feet, there's mixed aroma of my cement, her sweat, her perfume and her feet odor. They all combined together as a cocktail of sensation that's beyond words, hitting my taste and smell buds and I could feel my dick getting bigger again.

"Hey, I saw that". She said while looking how big my dick got big again even after all that just happened. "Let me kill it again", she said with a grin on her face.

I swallowed hard, knowing what's going to happen (again). "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?", I teased her.

She nodded slowly few times while looking straight at me, her grin mischievous. "Absolutely. Ready?". I quickly laid down on the floor again with my pepe standing up hard rock. Her face clearly showed she really enjoying to tease me… with her feet. She placed her feet around my dick with a deliberate, almost with love care, as if mocking the very fragility of it. My dick, wrapped in her delicate feet, I could feel her skin wrapping them, it kind of feel cold, despite the heat of our situation right now. My cement from before added the sticky feeling to it and acted as grease to smooth out the friction between our skin. Chaeyoung’s grin widened, and I could see the glint of mischief in her eyes.

Slowly, she started grinding my dick with both of her feet, clamping them up around as if she wanted to strangle down my dick. The sharp feeling suddenly raised within it, my delicate dick. I couldn't help myself from moaning again. "Begging won't help you now," she teased, her voice a sing-song taunt that sent shivers down my spine knowing how crazy she could be. She held the position, allowing my tense to build.

From my point of view from the floor, I could see every muscle in her leg and the blue veins bulging from her feet, and the way her feet strangling my dick slowly seemed almost like suspended in time. The heel hovered graciously, casting a small shadow to the side of us, away from the sunray shining through the window. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched, caught in a mix of excitement and fear of my dick getting crushed by her big feet as she's is grinding them even harder and faster. I couldn't hold it anymore, I wanted to let her know how good it felt.

"Chaeyoung, pleaseee, It feels so good now so please don't stop. I'm going to come againn very soonn" I pleaded, my voice cracking with a blend of genuine concern and playful desperation. I knew she wouldn’t stop anyways, but part of the thrill was in the act of begging, in the slim, tantalizing hope that she could feel the excitement together with me.

She glanced down at me, her eyes twinkling with delight. "You're really going to make me do this, huh?" she asked, her tone both teasing and triumphant. Her foot descended deeper slowly, then.. out of nowhere, as if it's a jump scare from a cheap horror movie, she gripped my dick with her feet much harder and even put her weight on them, as I didn't expected that to happen, I shouted so loud I feared the whole neighborhood could hear my scream.

"Chaeyoung ahhhhhh!" I cried out loud, as I finally came the second time, a strange exhilaration coursed through me like a lighting. I couldn't tell apart between the pain and the feeling of ecstasy anymore as they both were overwhelming me at the same time.

I was twitching like a broken doll on the floor. "You're a monster!" I yelled, half-laughing, half-serious. She found it exhilarating that I was in a such pathetic situation.

"And I know you're loving every second of this," she replied, stepping back to enjoy my pathetic face. She wiggled her toes, as if to spread out my cement which now covered her feet even thicker. She then suddenly sat down on the floor and bowed down towards me and started cleaning my dick with her mouth. I could feel the deep warmth from inside of her mouth since her feet was kind of cold earlier. She licked and sucked the leftover cements from my dick tip like its the last sip from the boba drink. I Couldn't help myself not to put my hands on her head and push her head down to my crotch to keep her doing whatever she's doing right now.

When she finished, she looked up to me with her puppy eyes and gulped everything she just licked from my dick and asked, "Happy now?".

I looked at her, then changed my view to all the mess we made. "Maybe?," I teasingly answered, a grin spreading across my face.

Chaeyoung’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she took her place back on the couch. "I knew it. Ready for more?"

I was frozen. I thought this already ended but now she asked to do even more. I nodded slowly, still feeling the tickle-ness on my dick. "B-Bring it on, Chaeyoung. But please, be gentle this time with me!"

She laughed hard, nodding. "Aight, Deal. But now, it's your turn to show me what the feet of yours can do to me." -End note: -I'm not into feet so I dunno if this considered good for feet lovers. Can comment if you're one of them lol. -Picked Chaeyoung again this time as reference since somehow I feel most comfortable with her in my head and heart with different kind of plots. -My next work will be about Hayoung! A sweet one almost like fluff like.. hopefully.

[shiyosugi]

BLUE LOCK BOYS REACTING TO READER DANCING

So, you got yourself into dancing for a talent show in your school. You have a choice, but you chose to dance with your two other friends. Dancing to a several TikTok dances your friend found and now... how will your boyfriend react to it when there was one particular part that attracts his attention? With your plain black T-shirt tucked in and your body curves showing?

CHARACTERS: (MY FAVOURITES) Yoichi Isagi, Shoei Baro, Sae Itoshi, Ikki Niko, Ryusei Shido, Rin Itoshi

Characters are highschooler!

A/N: I'm writing this because my friend and I chose to dance for PRS talent show at school, along with a junior that we brought in, and there was a part where I move my hips, maybe a bit too... sexy, for school environment and of course the students were shouting and all for that. So yeah, this headcanon(?) was based on that. Did I mention that I was the center?

YOICHI ISAGI

He blushed. Let me tell you he blushed.

The way you moved your hips... He understood why those students were shouting, how can you just pull off that move? You did know that he was watching, right? Not just him but other guys in school as well.

It might be only him but he became attracted to you immediately- no. He was already attracted to you.

Even when you are down the stage, feeling embarrassed with your two other friends, his eyes are still following you.

When you and him finally get time for each other, he praised you for your dancing skill and he can't forget to mention about how bold of you to move your hips like that, which earning him a slap on the shoulder, your face hidden in your palms immediately.

Seeing your embarrassed reaction make him laugh and he finds it cute. "Don't be embarrassed, I'm impressed with your dancing skill." he whispered softly into your ears.

SHOEI BARO

He sort of expect that you will pull off an inappropriate move because it's called dance for a reason, however, he feel somehow annoyed after seeing you move like that.

He should have expect that move yet he doesn't like that you have to do that in front of the students.

When he finally catches you alone, he approaches you with his usual poker face, placing his hand on your shoulder slowly and then he leans down to your level. "You did a great job up there." he whispers softly to you.

Just as you thought he was giving you a compliment he speaks again, "However, was it really necessary for you to move your hips like that? In front of those guys?" he whispers again.

He doesn't say anything else after that, and he isn't expecting you to answer him either, he is just annoyed that his girl had to show the other guys at school of how she has good body.

SAE ITOSHI

He doesn't seem to mind that you sway your hips in a way that could attract males attention. He enjoys it because he knows that you can pull off a move like that but you're just shy to show it.

After your little performance, he goes over to you and put his arm around your shoulder, "Nice move there, Think you can move your hips like that again for me?" he asks, trying to tease you.

Receiving a hit on the back from you because of his question only makes him wanting to tease you more.

IKKI NIKO

Like Yoichi, he blushed.

He will be wondering if whether you are always that bold to dance that way.

Nonetheless, he is impressed by your dancing skill.

He would walk up to you and immediately praise you about how brave you are to dance so boldly in front of many people.

He also mentions about how he thinks it was sexy of you to sway your hips like it was nothing. Obviously he earned a light punch on his arm because you feel embarrassed about it.

RYUSEI SHIDO

He is so ready to tease you about how good you look in your black T-shirt, how your body curves are showing and how sexy you look when you sway your hips that easily.

Hearing the students shouting, especially the girls, when you did that move made him smile to himself.

He's proud that his girl has finally learned about how to be more brave, like him.

As soon as he approaches you, he wraps his arms around your waist and leans down to your ear, "How does it feel to make those people go crazy about you, hm?" he whispers that question.

When you told him that they will eventually forget about today's event, he just laugh and then shakes his head, "But I won't. I want you to move your hips like that again... with my hands on your hips..." his voice trails off as his hands move down to your hips.

Seeing you all red from what he said just make him want to tease you more.

RIN ITOSHI

He is shocked, genuinely shocked that you could dance like that.

He thought you were too shy to move your hips in... that way. Turns out you're not.

When he is finally with you, he feels a bit nervous to talk about your dancing skill, while you are waiting for him to say something about that.

Eventually, he compliments your dancing skill and hesitantly mentions about the way you move your hips, he is picking his words properly.

No matter how he would say it, you are still going to be embarrassed about it and he finds it a bit cute.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Snap @paperstorm - my snippet also has Carlos rushing off to pee! Needs must. Thank you also for the tag @honeybee-taskforce @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @lemonlyman-dotcom

@bonheur-cafe @orchidscript and @reyesstrand 🩷🧡💛

This is from my 1x05 coda:

He loves to see it again – TK’s swagger overcoming his lack of skill on the dancefloor. In other contexts, swagger in lieu of competency is annoying, but here and now it's genius, and it's inspiring. Carlos loves to dance in theory, but he usually needs a couple of drinks in him to really let loose. Tonight he’s sober, yet it's like he isn’t. He just feels phenomenal. Can’t explain it. Doesn’t want to. There he goes, shoving his hand into TK's and jumping up and down with him while Paul finds himself in the center of a group of beautiful women. Two of the women dance sexily, the other two are just goofing around like them. Carlos watches with an emotional smile as Paul gets drawn farther and farther away from him and TK.

"How about that?" Carlos shouts over the music.

"Right?" TK yells back with delight as he descends into some sort of disco finger move. "Look at him go!"

The DJ ends Rhythm of the Night with a scratchy spinback and the opening synths of Insomnia pour into the air. Everybody cheers. Carlos feels like he's not touching the floor anymore. He loses TK for a second – but it's TK who finds him, snaking his arms around his waist from behind and swaying him as if to a slow ballad. Carlos twists to face TK, puts his hands on his shoulders. There's something chaste and junior-prom about it. He wants to kiss TK but he feels strangely shy out of nowhere, as if he's never kissed him before, and he's not sure if he's reading TK's face right. They'd neglected to establish any rules of engagement around P.D.A. for this evening, as though nothing needed saying. There’s a part of Carlos that realizes it's not too late. He has an opportunity to simply ask TK right now, "Can I kiss you?" or even just lean in and see how TK responds. But he swallows the question like a large pill without water, chokes a little, feels overwhelmed. “Ah, I really have to pee,” he says instead. Sexy.

"Okay!" TK replies happily, bouncing away as the beat drops. Carlos smiles and nods to hide a shimmer of hurt he's sure would cross his face otherwise. TK could have been disappointed to lose his dance partner, or could have eagerly joined him in a stall, but it seems like he doesn't much care. TK is only here to throw himself around the dancefloor. It’s fine. It’s fair enough. This night is about Paul, anyway. And he actually does have to pee, so.

Open tag and tags below

@thisbuildinghasfeelings @strandnreyes @lightningboltreader

@goodways @rmd-writes @welcometololaland

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[lambtotheslaughterr]

The Day The World Ended : Rise -- Part One

A Rafe Cameron Series

Chapter One

WC: 7.1k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER TWO

FIVE DAYS BEFORE THE WORLD ENDED

            Your body moved with the rhythm of the dark wave music flowing throughout the party. Hot pink, neon yellow, & vibrant purple colors danced across the sea of people. You could feel yourself smiling in spite of the sweat coating your arms & legs. The alcohol that flowed through your body kept you cool & unfeeling of the stickiness that comes with an early summer in Florida.

            It was so incredibly natural for you to move your limbs, waist, hips in time with the beat. A good party was where you thrived the most. Even when you opened your eyes & couldn’t make out any of your friends’ faces or see your boyfriend nearby you didn’t panic. Losing yourself among strangers & classmates alike was part of the fun. After all, finals week was over. Summer was here. College was almost over, just one year left. You weren’t the only one celebrating.

            Everywhere you looked, you saw everyone wearing a shade of pink. It was Wednesday, & your boyfriend’s fraternity was throwing a ‘We Wear Pink On Wednesday’s’ to kick-off the summer break. The outfit you wore captured your personality well. Bold, sexy, confident. Dancing in your stiletto heels, rubbing your hands along the sides of your body, feeling as if everyone had their eyes on you, it kept you going. You could dance all night.

            As you swayed, you felt warm hands fall on your hips. You grinned knowingly to yourself, pressing your back to the chest behind you. Sayyed nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair getting caught up in the strands. You giggled, spinning around to face him. He fought with your hair & you helped him remove it, trading smiles.

            The music continued & the two of you danced for a bit longer with one another. This was one of the reasons you & Sayyed were so good together. He was a dance major & you just loved to dance every chance you had. Your energy was unmatched & your body language with one another couldn’t be stopped. He leaned into you & you let him, bending ever so slightly, looking as if he was melting into you. It was magnetic, seductive, empowering.

            Once the next song finished though, Sayyed grabbed your hand & pulled you away from the main living room of the frat. Every corner you turned there was more & more people. Pi Kappa Alpha never failed at throwing a party & drawing the masses in. You were a member of their sister sorority, Alpha Delta Pi. You had been coming to PKA’s parties since rush week freshman year. It’s where you & Sayyed met.

            Turning one last corner, Sayyed brought you into the kitchen which was just as crowded as the rest of the house. In here, however, were your friends. On one end of a beer pong table two of Sayyed’s frat brothers—Luka, Kai, & Bear—were losing pretty badly with more than half their cups still on the table. At the winning end of the table was Adrianna & Rafe. Nuha, Sayyed’s sister, stood behind them, roasting the opposing team.

            On the sidelines, you marched up to Millie & Micah, your closest friends & roommates. Becoming a junior at the university had been the best thing to happen since you were finally able to move out of the sorority house. Millie had been your friend from high school & Micah was her bed buddy. The three of you got along swimmingly.

            “Oh, c’mon guys!” Rafe teased, pointing at the boys across from him, “You’re getting your ass beat by a girl.”

            Adrianna grinned proudly at that. Out of all the men at the table, Adrianna was certainly the toughest. She graduated high school a year early & applied to the NROTC. It was only in the last year that she began majoring in nursing. Medical, warfare, you name it & Adrianna could excel in it.

            “She’s not a girl!” Bear, nicknamed as such for his appearance, playfully argued back, “She’s a goddamn military weapon!”

            “Awwh, Boo Bear,” Nuha cooed, narrowing her tantalizing green eyes glowing mischievously, “Is mommy gonna need to read you to sleep tonight?”

            “Only if you’re mommy.” Bear returned, winking, his flirtatious banter towards Nuha was never ending.

            “Alright.” Sayyed interrupted, tossing Bear a warning, “That’s enough, make the shot. I want next game.”

            Rafe & Adrianna cleared the table swiftly with their skills. Sayyed began re-setting, catching your attention, “Teammate?”

            You made a face of disgust, “Yuck, no thanks. I’m a lousy shot, you know that. I’ll just be over here, ya know, drinking.”

            Sayyed rolled his eyes but nodded, kissing you once before you crossed to the other side of the kitchen to peruse the alcohol options.

            “What’s your poison tonight?” Rafe came up beside you, mirroring your perusal. You shrugged. Usually your go to was a cheaply mixed cocktail but you were thinking of switching to beer to avoid the intense sugar headache you’d surely get the next morning.

            “What are you thinking?” You asked. Rafe Cameron was you in the male form. He too knew how to party, enjoyed being the center of attention, & could drink well into the daylight hours. You two bonded quickly over loud music, drunken fits of laughter, & rampant parties over the years.

            “I’m just gonna do some shots. I don’t want to use my brain any more than I have to.” You laughed in agreement, watching as he poured you two a couple.

            Rafe handed you the overflowing shot of tequila & you leaned forward to shoot it back, careful to not spill any on your clothes—though you were hardly wearing any.

            “Woo!” You & Rafe yelled in unison, feeling the smooth burn of the tequila slip down your throat. He raised his hand, “Up high.”

            When you went to smack his hand he lowered it, wiggling his brows, “Too slow, down low.”

            “Fuck off.” You smiled pretending to turn & walk away. Then, before he could catch on to you, you spun around & smacked his hand.

            “Goddamnit.” He gritted, shaking his head.

            “Too slow.” You mocked, slipping away from him before he could try to out smart you. Along the way you snagged a beer out of a cooler & returned to Millie & the beer pong game.

            The infamous trio lost yet another game as the Rahal’s kicked their ass. Sayyed & Nuha were as thick as thieves, making you envious of never having any siblings growing up. Your dad was a pilot, gone long & often. Your mom was self-medicated & kept to the dimly lit confines of her bedroom. College had been the long awaited escape you always dreamed of, & you finally found your own family on that campus.

            It was almost one in the morning when you found yourself sitting on the front steps leading up to the frat house, kicking your heels off. You felt good. The alcohol left you buzzing. The only thing that would make the night even better at the moment would be if the sprinklers were turned on so you could run shamelessly through them.

            People were spread out on the front lawn. Houses all up & down Greek row had people spilling out onto the street, stumbling everywhere. You laughed to yourself, enjoying the freedom & adventure that college was. All these people, just as drunk as you if not more so, hopping from one party to the next, totally free of any responsibility & milking the utters of their youth.

            “Ha.” You giggled, leaning back to rest your elbows on the brick steps, “Utters.”

            “What are you giggling to yourself about?” Millie appeared over your shoulder, dropping to her butt to join you.

            “Mills.” You squeaked, gripping her slender legs & hugging them, “I really love you.”

            “I love you, too, you lush.” She returned, patting the top of your head.

            “I’m gonna name my daughter Lush.” You mumbled, smiling at the thought, “It’s pretty.”

            “Yeah, yeah, & you’re gonna name your son Bitters.”

            “It’s a theme.” You defended.

            “One I know Sayyed will no way in hell support.”

            “Whatever. He loves me.” You smirked knowingly.

            “Hey guys.” Micah joined the two of you but didn’t sit, “I’m gonna head back, want a ride Mill?”

            “Nah, thanks.” She rubbed your face, making you bat away your hands, “I gotta keep an eye on this one.”

            “C’mon. Where’s Sayyed? Let him get her home. I want us to roll around before bed.”

            You snorted at that, “Okay, okay, Mee-Kuh.” You slurred, stumbling as you stood, “Mills is all yours. I got my own rolling around to do.”

            Millie & Micah traded looks before she gently grasped your arm, hooking it over her shoulders, “No way. You’re done. We got an early day tomorrow anyway. You’re coming with us & I will call Sayyed in the car.”

            Though you wanted to resist, still having the urge to party & go all night long, your limbs felt heavy as your roommates carried you to the car. Once in, you lied down in the backseat, not bothering with a seatbelt. Micah had The Pixies playing on the stereo at a low volume. You faintly made out Millie on the phone with who you presumed to be your boyfriend.

            Where Is My Mind? lulled you to sleep. Before you knew it, you were falling into a pit of comforting darkness.

FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE WORLD ENDED

            Someone was shaking you.

            You threw your hand out, batting it away, “No.” You groaned, your head throbbing at energy you used to produce the single world.

            “_____, get up, sleepyhead. We’re already behind.”

            You didn’t care. You couldn’t even remember why the hell anyone would be waking up this early. Millie knew better. After a night of drinking & partying, you were permitted to sleep well into the afternoon hours.

            “Wake up, fishy!” She imitated, shaking you roughly.

            “Mills, quit!” You could feel yourself growing irritable.

            “Don’t make me resort to plan C.” The threat forced your eyes to pop open. You glared daggers at her, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

            “Get your lush ass up & I won’t.” She cocked her head, her hands on her hips.

            You didn’t know what time it was, but as you took in her attire, you were confused by what she wore.

            “What are you wearing?” You questioned, taking in her crop top, Levi cut-offs, & worn-through boots.

            Millie pursed her lips, “Camping, dumbo. It was your brilliant idea for us all to go camping before we all went home for the summer.”

            That couldn’t be right. “I hate being outdoors.” You whined, “You’re lying.”

            “Believe me, I wish I was.” Millie seemed exasperated, “Now, seriously, get up. You roped me into this trip so you’re helping me load Sayyed’s jeep. I’m not doing it by myself.”

            “Where’s Sayyed?”

            She pointed to the door, “Watching the news with Micah.”

            “Wake up or plan C goes into effect.” With that, Millie exited your room.

            You groaned inwardly, feeling your stomach slosh as you sat up. Bile rose in your throat & you immediately cupped your mouth. Oh no.

            Making a mad dash for your bathroom, you fell to your knees, slapping up the toilet lids in time for you to empty out your stomach.

            After a minute or so, you felt a comforting hand on your back. You knew it was Sayyed. Reaching behind you, you gripped his jean clad knee in support. Once you were finished vomiting, Sayyed poured you glass of water to swish the taste out of your mouth before helping you stand.

            “How you doin’, babe?” You could hear the slight amusement in his question, imagining that you looked quite funny at that point, but you shrugged, “Better.”

            “Good.” He kissed your forehead, shifting you over to stand in front of the sink. He grabbed your toothbrush & toothpaste, applying the crème to your brush before offering it to you, “Brush your teeth, take a shower, we’ll be done loading the car by the time you’re finished.”

            “Is it too late to cancel?” You moaned, dreading the idea of going without proper plumbing for who knows how long.

            Sayyed smiling sadly, but cupped your cheek comfortably, “You can sleep the whole way. The whole trip if need be. It’ll be over before you know it.”

            With that, he left you to your hangover. Doing as he said, you brushed your teeth—twice—then stood in the shower until Millie came hollering for you. Begrudgingly you climbed out of the shower. In your bedroom, you pulled out a cute yellow jumper & slipped into some old shoes from high school. You threw your hair up & moisturized your face, pointedly ignoring the bags under your eyes.

            Once you were finished, you gathered some essentials for a to-go bag & hauled it over your shoulder.

            In the living room, you stopped abruptly, confused by what everyone was doing. Your living room was filled with your friends, all of whom stared at the television as a news report sounded. You frowned, “What’s going on?”

            Sayyed turned to you, a look of worry on his face. He brought you closer, his arm around you but said nothing as he turned his attention back to the TV.

            Your mouth parted.

            The reporter on the TV announced:

            Again, that state of California is calling a state of emergency as an unknown air-borne virus rips through the state. The origin of the virus at this point in time is unknown, however, the first reported cases of it was in the highly populated city of Los Angeles. There have been a reported two thousand two hundred fifty six cases thus far since Monday evening with the number rising every hour. Surrounding states have closed their borders to anyone traveling from California in an attempt to isolate the virus. In a press statement earlier this morning, the Governor of California, alongside the guidance of the CDC, advised California residents & those traveling within the state to remain indoors, wear masks, & avoid social interaction at all times.

            There have been no reported deaths thus far but we will have more at the top of the hour. For any information as this story develops, please visit the CDC official website.

            “Jesus.” Adrianna muttered, immediately getting onto her phone, “COVID all over again.”

            Everyone in the room groaned at that.

            “No way.” Nuha rolled her eyes, “It’s one state. One. And it looks like they’re getting a handle on it. Nothing for us to worry about way down here in the sunshine state.”

            “Besides,” Bear joined in, “Whatever the virus is, it’ll eat those left-wings first before it comes for us.”

            “Bear!” Everyone reprimanded at once.

            He rose in hands in defense, smiling, “Joking! Joking.”

            “I thought it was funny.” Rafe shared lowly, slapping Bear’s arm. In turn, you slapped his, “Oh, shut up.”

            “C’mon guys.” Sayyed clapped his hands together, “We got a lot of driving to do if were gonna find a decent stop. Gotta hit the road.”

            Following Sayyed’s command, your friends began gathering their things, the news report fresh in their minds as they shuffled out of your apartment. The TV was turned off now but you continued to frown at it, “You really think it’ll be taken care of?”

            Sayyed pondered your question before answering, “Who knows honestly. Before COVID made it stateside we all thought it wouldn’t make it here. But it did. There’s no saying. Every virus is different.”

            You nodded, crossing your arms, “Maybe we should cancel. Listen to the CDC.”

            “Okay.” Sayyed laughed softly, gently grabbing the sides of your face, “Remember when everyone panicked & overbought toilet paper?”

            “Of course.” You rolled your eyes.

            “Don’t be that demographic, babe.” He kissed you once, looking into your eyes, “We’ll be okay. We beat COVID, whatever this thing is they’ll take care of it. Besides, we can’t stop living just because California is in the midst of an outbreak.”

            You sighed, but nodded. “You’re right, you’re right.”

            “I know.” He grinned, “Besides, it’s like Nuha said. This is Florida. We’re on the complete opposite end of the country. If it reaches us, we’ll be well prepared by then. Alright?”

            “Alright.” You finally mustered a smile, the news report having chased away your hangover.

            “I love you.”

            “You.”

            It was early evening by the time your group made it to your destination. Thankfully, you slept for most of the seven hour drive—though Rafe & Sayyed sped to save on time. Rafe hauled Luka, Kai, Bear, & Adrianna in his Ford truck with all the camping gear while Sayyed drove you, Millie, Micah, & Nuha in his wrangler, his trunk filled with the food & essentials. The sun wouldn’t set for a few more hours, which worked in your favor considering what was next.

            “Alright, everyone grab a hold of something heavy, make it work, we’re a team.” Sayyed announced, taking the leadership role seriously, “We got about a twenty minute hike to the spot then we can chill.”

            “Finally.” Luka groaned, opposite of his best friend Kai who was a geography major & picked the national park for you all to camp at. Kai beamed at the surrounding forestry.

            “Smell that, Luka?” Kai teased, “That’s what folks like us who don’t spend all our time in the lit section at the library call ‘fresh air’?”

            Luka made a face causing Kai to laugh.

            You & Millie partnered up, loading your backs & arms with the lighter items while Adrianna & the boys carried the heavier items. Nuha was happy to be left with the remaining coolers that contained the food. Both coolers hand wheels with handlebars.

            Sayyed led the way through the trees with Kai close behind, the latter pausing every now & then to take pictures. Every time he did someone in the group snapped at him to keep it moving. You managed the slightly inclined terrain well, glad you only wore a jumper & nothing more since you tended to sweat easily.

            Finally, after what felt like an hour rather than twenty minutes, Sayyed led the group into a decent sized clearing.

            “Here we are, guys!” Sayyed dropped the camping gear he had been carrying, everyone else quickly following suit.

            “Oh nice, man!” Micah exclaimed, noting the nearby waterfall with a swimming hole underneath it. Then he began to undress, “Last one in is a rotten egg!”

            You couldn’t help the squeal that rushed out of your body. A majority of you, though tired, were still high on the excitement of summer break. Micah had the right idea.

            Quickly untying the strap of your jumper, you let it fall to the ground, sporting only your bra & underwear before slipping out of your shoes & taking off after Micah. The entire group then raced to the swimming hole, bodies jumping or belly flopping in.

            The sun was still high in the sky, keeping the ten of you warm in the cool natural water. Belts of laughter, hollers & light-hearted screaming, surrounded you. You swam still in the middle, watching all your friends frolic amongst themselves without a care in the world.

            The smile on your face couldn’t be contained.

            The fire was going. Everyone was sitting quietly, talking amongst themselves. After swimming for a short while, everyone worked together to set up camp. There were so many tents to put up since a couple of the boys insisted on having their own space.  

            In one tent was you, Sayyed, Millie, & Micah. Nuha & Adrianna shared another, same with Luka & Kai, but Rafe & Bear brought their own single person tents. The clearing that Sayyed picked was perfect though. There was plenty of space to spread out & everyone was happy with the set-up. Sayyed & Millie got to work on preparing dinner while you & Rafe broke into the beer cooler. Fortunately, there was plenty to last everyone the next few days.

            Once dinner was made, everyone chowed down, talking loudly over one another & cracking jokes. You rested your head on Sayyed’s shoulder, enjoying your meal. It was a simple dinner for the first night since arrival time had been late (your fault). But Millie was one hell of a cook & Sayyed was an excellent assistant.

            By the time everyone finished, the alcohol really began to pour.

            Most of the boys found sticks in the trees to play with, chasing each other in the dark. You & Millie laughed in amusement, the beer warming your stomachs on the gently chill night. Rafe sat on your other side, shaking his head at the antics of his frat mates.

            “Idiots.” He muttered but was smiling.

            You & Millie both rolled your eyes.

            “Like you’re one to talk.” Millie commented, “Or did you forget why everyone calls you Roofie Rafe?”

            Ugh. The nickname still made you sick to your stomach, knowing that anyone who heard it probably the worst immediately, but it was the total opposite that birthed the name. One night freshman year, Rafe had consensually roofied himself & found many stimulating ways to try to keep himself awake. Every two hours he would keep from passing out, he’d have to take another half dose. Impressively, Rafe lasted four hours before he finally crashed.

            And ended up in the hospital. It was a scary night, but definitely one that would never be forgotten.

            “Yeah, yeah.” Rafe smirked, shaking his head. His eyes met yours, leaning forward so only you could hear, “I got something for us.”

            Your interest piqued ten-fold. Rafe always had the goods.

            Making sure Millie’s attention wasn’t on them, Rafe subtly showed you a plastic baggie dangling between his fingers before he swiftly returned it to his pocket. He wiggled his brows at you.

            Your heart skyrocketed. It had been a couple months since you last did coke. Sayyed tolerated the habit at the beginning of your relationship, but after spending a year together, he asked that you stop altogether or at least only do it once every now & then—if he was present.

            Technically, this counted. You reminded yourself that you hadn’t touched the stuff in months & Sayyed was indeed present. But did you want to get up & stop the fun the boys were having to bring it to his attention. Your eyes looked at Rafe unsure, his eyes growing bigger waiting for an answer.

            One bump wouldn’t hurt.

            “Quickly.” You lowered your voice, placing your beer in the cupholder of the chair you sat in.

            Rafe nodded, getting up from his chair, “I’m gonna go take a piss.”

            Millie made a face but said nothing. After he disappeared behind you, you exhaled quickly, moving yourself, “I left my water in the tent, I’ll be right back.”

            Fortunately, Millie said nothing, didn’t even look suspicious as you followed after Rafe. Unlike the majority of your friends, Millie was one of the few who didn’t get into party tricks. She stuck with beer & limited herself three a party. Out of everyone she was definitely the mother of the group. Same could mostly be said for Adrianna. Being a member of the military, she was 100% prone to partying, but when it came to the hard stuff, she was usually there being a voice of reason. It’s why you & Rafe had to be secretive around them.

            In the dark, you whispered Rafe’s name.

            “Over here.” He called softly. You held out your hands blindly, searching for him as you walked toward the sound of his voice.

            A gentle hand gripped your wrist, pulling you closer. You laughed sheepishly, getting closer to him now that you were away from the warmth of the fire. Even though it was late April, it could still get somewhat cold out at night, especially for the southern folk who traveled seven hours north to camp in the mountains.

            “Hurry, hurry.” You rushed, pulling out your phone but turning the brightness down so as not to draw attention to the drug commotion happening in the trees.

            Rafe chuckled at your anticipation, pouring a little snow out on the fatty part of his hand. He raised it to you. You closed one nostril, leaning over his hand to inhale. The coke went as smooth as expected. You chapped your lips, licking them next. You could still feel a little bit of the grains in the back of your throat.

            You sighed blissfully, waiting for Rafe do to his bit.

            “That all you bring?” You questioned.

            Rafe sniffed, wiping his nose before stuffing the coke back in his pocket.

            “Yeah, can’t risk having more than this on me if we get pulled over, especially crossing state lines.”

            “Pretty sure the criminal charge for holding is the same across the states.”

            “Eh.” He shrugged, grabbing your elbow gently to lead you back towards the campsite. “Either way, I get caught with it & my dad will send me to military school.”

            In the three years you knew Rafe, you had heard a lot about his father but never had the pleasure of meeting him—for lack of a better word. He sounded abrasive, domineering, cruel, careless. It made sense why Rafe turned to partying. You could relate a little. Your own parents were barely involved in your well-being.

            “Guess we’ll have to clear it before we head back later, huh?”

            Even in the dark, you could make out Rafe’s eyes twinkling, “I can always count on you.”

            The two of you bumped shoulders as you both came out from the tree-line. Rafe ventured off towards the beer coolers. You were under the impression that you were about to make it back to your seat without raising any suspicions but then you heard your name being called.

            “_____.” You paused, cringing to yourself. You knew that tone well.

            Slowly turning on your heal, you spotted Sayyed standing under the cooking tent. His arms were crossed & his head was cocked in knowing disappointment.

            You approached him, already slipping on your puppy dog eyes, “Baaabe.”

            “Don’t even start.” He held up his hand, “What the fuck were you doing?”

            You dropped the ‘please forgive me act’, easily transitioning to a defensive stance, “Having fun, Sayyed. It’s summer, I’m allowed to let loose.”

            “You did last night. And this last weekend. Oh, & the weekend before that.”

            Okay, so? You partied a lot. He knew that, he knew that before he even began dating you. That hadn’t changed.

            “When are you going to grow up?” The insult had you rearing backwards.

            “Are you serious right now?” You sneered, glaring at him, “It was one time & you’re acting like I’m in the woods fucking off my whole life.”

            “You said you wouldn’t do it anymore.” He lowered his voice so no one could hear.

            “No, I didn’t.” You countered, “I said I would do it less. And if you were around. Hello! You were less than twenty feet away from me.”

            Sayyed sighed, running his hands down his face, “Ya know what, forget it. I don’t like talking to you when you’re like this.”

            You scoffed, nodding your head, “Yeah, right, & what is that supposed to mean?”

            “When you’ve been drinking, _____, you know that.”

            “Oh, come off it.” You ridiculed, “I’ve had two beers & I’m not even buzzed. You know that.”

            Not wanting to argue further, you stomped away from him, ignoring the curious looks as you returned to your seat, chugging the rest of the beer that sat waiting for you.

            “You good?” Millie asked.

            You shook your head but said nothing. You weren’t in the mood to talk.

            Across the fire from you, Rafe met your eyes. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him too. It wasn’t his fault. You were entirely in control of what you decided to do, but goddamn him, too. Now, all you wanted to do was another bump to chase away the night.

ONE DAY BEFORE THE DAY ENDED

            Fortunately, the next two days camping went by smoothly. Sayyed & you had made up, finding a hidden spot in the forest to have a quickie. Sex while camping was the least sexiest thing you could do but after you had done another bump—with Sayyed’s knowledge—your libido couldn’t be stopped. It was fast yet passionate. You came twice.

            Everyone was enjoying the off-the grid activities: hiking to a look-out point to view the canyons, climbing the face of the waterfall, childhood games in the swimming hole, telling scary stories by fire. It was a lot of fun. Though you initially loathed the idea of camping, still finding it hard to believe you were the one to suggest it, you were sad to be going back to civilization the following morning.

            Millie & you would be traveling south to the tail of Florida where your families were. Sayyed & Nuha would return to New York. And the others would jet off to their respective hometowns. It was a bittersweet end to the college year, but it’d only be a couple months before everyone reunited for senior year. A couple weeks before the start of the school year, Sayyed & Nuha would come to you in Southern Florida to visit before the four of you mobbed back to school.

            Not seeing him during the summer months was typical but it didn’t make you miss him any less.

            It was the last night & everyone had a lot to drink. You & Rafe finished off the baggie of coke a couple hours ago. Everyone started to crash around midnight but you & Rafe were still wired from the stimulant.

            Sayyed had been the last to go to bed, kissing you once before crawling into the tent where Millie & Micah slept soundly. You were alone at the fire with Rafe. It was quiet, save for the crackling of the dying fire & the cicadas to fill the night.

            Rafe polished off the rest of his beer. You remained in your chair, snuggled deep within one of Sayyed’s hoodies & a pair of sweats. You felt warm & fuzzy. The coke was making you smile at absolutely nothing.

            Rafe chuckled beside you.

            You flashed a wide-eyed look at him, “What?”

            “You look drugged the fuck out.”

            You rolled your eyes but smiled, “Whose fault is that?”

            Silence returned but it was a comfortable one. Rafe was one of the few people in your group of friends who didn’t feel the need to entertain conversation all the time. You loved every single one of your friends, but Rafe was special in the sense that he didn’t need to talk to have a good time. It’s one of the many reasons you two got along so well.

            “Dreading going home?” Rafe asked, surprising you. You shrugged, “You?”

            He mirrored your gesture. The two of you chuckled lightly.

            “Believe it or not, I would much rather stay here.” You waved to the forest around you.

            Rafe made a sour face, “Nah. Don’t get me wrong, camping & the woods & shit is cool, but I miss the coast. North Carolina kicks Florida’s ass any day.”

            You scoffed, feeling the need to defend your home state, “North Carolina is filled with classist assholes, company included.”

            He belted out a laugh at the insult. “I’ll drink to that.” Rafe cracked open another beer, taking a swig from it then leaned forward to challenge your statement.

            “But I’d rather be a classist asshole than come from a state that produces the next wave of cracked out crazies in the headlines.”

            You smiled proudly, “Free entertainment.”

            “You laugh at the impoverished & I’m the classist asshole.”

            “Oh, whatever.” You ignored him, “You supply them.”

            “Touche.”

            The fire was barely lit at that point, allowing the cool night chill to seep through your layers.

            “God, I wish this didn’t have to end.” With that, you stood up, cracking your spine & stretching your limbs, “I’m going to bed. See ya in the morning, loser.”

            “Back at chya.”

            You approached your tent but turned to point at Rafe, “Put that out before you go to sleep. Don’t need to be the cause of the first wildfire this summer.”

            “Yes ma’am.” Rafe replied sarcastically.

            Unzipping your tent, your three companions slept. Sayyed was pressed against his side of the tent & Millie was cuddled up to Micah on the other side, leaving the perfect amount of space for you to slide in. As you did, Sayyed shifted, opening his eyes slightly. He said nothing but opened his arms for you to join him.

            You gladly climbed into his sleeping bag. As quickly as he had woken up, he fell back asleep, his breathing light. His body warmed you quickly & you buried your face in his chest.

            Not being able to this for the whole summer was going to be the death of you.

THE MORNING OF

            The hike back to the cars was slow moving. For the first time, you were one of the few not hungover among your group of friends. Even Millie was rocking a headache. The packing had been quick & before you knew it everyone was following Sayyed back towards the dirt road where Rafe & your boyfriend parked off of.

            You were standing in the bed of Rafe’s truck, taking items from others as they handed them to you. Everyone was sporting a yawn, eyebags, blotchy skin, or an annoyed expression. You had to hide your smile. It was nice not to be the one recovering for once.

            There was little discussion among everyone as they hopped into either vehicle. You were just hopping out of Rafe’s bed, approaching the back of Sayyed’s wrangler when you heard hushed whispering. You paused. One of the voices was Sayyed’s.

            Making sure none of the others were curious as to what you were up to, you lowered yourself to peek around the front of Rafe’s truck.

            Behind Sayyed’s SUV was your boyfriend & Rafe. Sayyed had his back to you but you could easily make out Rafe’s face. He looked pissed. No, more than that. He appeared livid.

            You couldn’t make out what Sayyed was saying but whatever it was, the more he spoke the more Rafe grew red in the face. He stepped forward then, practically brushing chests with your boyfriend as he said whatever he was saying. It was irritating you that you couldn’t hear what they were discussing but they were whispering for a reason.

            Sayyed shoved Rafe in the chest. Not hard, but enough to send him back half a foot.

            “Just fuck off, Rafe.” Sayyed finally said, his voice significantly louder, “It’s what you’re best at.”

            With that, Sayyed circled around to the drivers side & got in, slamming the door. His wrangler shook with force. Rafe stared hard at the ground. From where you were crouched, you could see that his chest was heaving.

            What the fuck?

            It wasn’t uncommon for Rafe & Sayyed to have words with one another. They were both males with an alpha mindset so every now & then they would get into it but nothing ever bad enough to ruin a friendship between the two. However, as you watched Rafe fluctuate between different levels of anger, you were deeply concerned what could be happening between them.

            Finally he moved. Approaching where you were hidden.

            You quickly backed up to pretend you were finishing up with something in the bed of the truck when he appeared. At first he looked a little surprised to see you, but said nothing.

            You couldn’t help frowning, “Everything okay?”

            Rafe ignored your question, opening his door, “We’re late.”

            Then he got in the truck, turning the engine on.

            “_____!” Sayyed was leaning out of his window, “C’mon, lots of driving to do.”

            You would let it go. For now. But the second you & Sayyed were alone, you were going to investigate.

            It was about an hour into the drive back to civilization when things grew worse.

            “What the hell?” Sayyed said. You had been resting your head against the window, your eyes closed with your earphones in listening to a podcast.

            Everyone else in the car was sleeping.

            You looked at Sayyed, about to ask him what was wrong when you followed his line of sight.

            What you saw caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

            On the on ramp to a highway, Sayyed slowed to a stop.

            There were cars everywhere. But none of them moving.

            “Guys.” You reached blindly behind you, unable to take your eyes off the sight, “Guys, wake up!”

            The panic in your voice was enough to force the others awake.

            “Jesus, what?” Micah groaned. Millie wiped the sleep from her eyes & Nuha leaned forward in her seat to peer out the windshield.

            “What is that?”

            “I don’t know…” Sayyed’s voice lowered.

            Sayyed then put the car into park, hesitantly opening his door.

            “No, what are you doing?” You hissed.

            “Something’s wrong.” He told you, slipping out from under your grasping hands.

            Nuha & Micah followed.

            In the sideview mirror, you could see everyone piling out of Rafe’s truck behind you.

            You twisted around to look at Millie, “What do we do?”

            Millie looked as scared as you felt.

            But once she made to move out of the car, you reluctantly followed behind her.

            The ten of you stood around, staring in every which direction. All up & down the highway were hundreds of cars, bumper to bumper, some with engines still running. But there was no movement. No sign of anyone nearby.

            “I don’t like this.” Bear commented, walking slowly closer to the nearest cars.

            Behind you, you watched as Adrianna crawled into the passenger side of Sayyed’s SUV. She flipped on the stereo, cruising through stations.

            “Hey, guys!” She hollered, “You might want to hear this.”

            At her claim, everyone crowded around. She turned the volume.

            This is a National Emergency Broadcast Alert. If you are hearing this, remain indoors. The unknown virus from California has spread across the United States rapidly. Over a million deaths have been reported & the number continues to rise. We are in a state of emergency. If you are in a heavily populated area your risk of exposure is great. Quarantine, isolate, stay in contact with the United States Military should symptoms occur.

            This is all the information we have this time.

            This is a National Emergency Broadcast Alert.

            The message repeated. Adrianna lowered the volume.

            “Oh, my god.” Nuha covered her mouth, her eyes watering.

            “Check your phones.” Sayyed demanded. Most phones were dead but a few had charged enough within the hour long drive.

            Kai pulled out his phone, “There’s no service.” He held it up, walking away from everyone to see if he could find any signal.

            “Same.” Millie shared, her hands shaking.

            “Can you call?” You asked, your voice matching her hands.

            “No, no.” She cried softly, “Nothing is going through.”

            Kai returned with no luck.

            “What the fuck is going?!” Nuha cried.

            “Calm down, sis.” Sayyed brought her into a hug, his eyes full of concern meeting your own.

            “Guys!” Everyone’s head snapped in Bear’s direction. He had walked all the way to the other side of the highway, his back to you.

            With rapid movement, everyone dashed between cars left abandoned to join where Bear stood.

            A gasp left your mouth, your eyes blurring.

            “I don’t think is COVID…” Bear’s voice was barely audible over the sound of blood rushing to your ears.

            Below the highway, on a hill, was the horrific sight of hundreds of bodies. Men, women, children. You had to turn away when you saw a baby stiff in the arms of a dead woman.

            “Sayyed.” Your fingers clung to the sleeve of his shirt, “What’s happening?”

            He shook his head. There were no words that could be said.

            “We need to go.”

            You looked over your shoulder at Rafe. He was standing back from everyone, his face expressionless.

            “Where, Rafe?” Millie questioned, “We don’t know where is safe, we don’t even know what the hell is going on!”

            “The alert system to avoid populated areas.”

            “So, what?” Luka spoke then, “We just don’t go home, man? We have families. We gotta make sure they’re okay.”

            “Fine, okay.” Rafe doubled down, stepping forward to point at the bodies, “Wanna start there?”

            Everyone was silent at that. When no one challenged him further he shook his head, “Think it’ll be different anywhere else?”

            “We have to try, Rafe.” You spoke, your voice soft but firm.

            Rafe was about to open his mouth, growing angry, but Sayyed spoke first.

            “He’s right.” Sayyed said, swallowing but nodded with what Rafe suggested, “We can’t go anywhere populated. We don’t know how bad it is.”

            “I think we have an idea.” Bear muttered, referring to the dead below.

            “Look.” Sayyed began, “We avoid the main roads, we keep trying with the phones & stations, maybe we find a military base & get some answers. Either way. Whatever killed all those people did it fast.”

            His eyes danced across the familiar faces, “It’s our only shot. Then maybe, maybe when we have more information, more of an idea how to protect ourselves, we move further south. But for now, Rafe is right. We can’t stay here, & we can’t go home. Not yet.”

            Your heart faltered. Sayyed & Nuha’s family was in New York City. Their chances of survival… you couldn’t let yourself finish the thought.

            “Alright, okay?” Though he was the voice of reason, you could hear the fear in his voice. You grabbed his hand, letting him know you were with him.

            “Okay.”

            A few of the others grumbled, Nuha was crying uncontrollably, Adrianna was staring at the bodies below. But no one challenged Sayyed or Rafe further.

            “Let’s go.” With that, slowly everyone began making their way back towards the vehicles.

            But Adrianna didn’t move. You approached her, placing a gentle hand on her arm, “We gotta go.”

            “We’re not going to find anything.” Her voice was so quiet you barely made out what she said.

            “We don’t know that.”

            She shook her head, finally turning to look at you, “We’re already dead.”

            Your lips parted, watching as she walked away, following behind the others.

            She’s just scared, you told yourself but your gut churned. We’re all scared.

            With one final look at the bodies below, you ran after the others, Adrianna’s words repeating over again in your head.

            We’re already dead.

THE DAY THE WORLD ENDED

alrighty! the first chapter of my first full length series.

a reminder that i write for myself & myself does write porn w plot. this will be a slow burn series with lots of plot building, world building, character building, ect. if you're looking for straight smut i suggest looking elsewhere.

Rafe, as always with my stories, is the dark/non-con/18+/MDNI warning.

all that being said, The Day The World Ended (TDTWE) will be a universe series. Rise--Part One is Rafe & Reader. Summit--Part Two will be Ransom Drysdale & a different reader. And Fall--Part Three will be Billy Russo & yet another different reader. this whole universe will be my biggest project on here thus far.

so please show me your love & support any way you can! i look forward to hearing your thoughts.

thank you for reading! follow or requests to be added to the TDTWE or Rafe Cameron taglist to get update notifications.

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Requests are currently CLOSED.

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased @rottenstyx @fangirlwithlou

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[wiiildflowerrr]

Yes 5SOS wrote it and recorded it themselves* in 2013, but never released it, so eventually it was sold.

(*TW for some very sexy dancing)

Now how did I find out that Calum Hood from 5sos was a composer for Teenage Queen by Superjunior D&E???

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

The Proposal - Part 5

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Part 5 of 7. 4232 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack.

Authors Note: We're almost to the end here y'all! How we doing? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

“So, uh, you’re a Junior?” Steve’s words break the silence.

Eddie, who is laid out flat on his back, staring at the ceiling flinches in answer, his voice small. “No, I’m not.” Not technically. 

“Oh, I just, I thought…” Steve tries to press, but Eddie cuts him off. He doesn't want to hear it. “It’s just a nickname.” 

“Just a nickname.” Steve repeats, voice laced with doubt.

“They don’t have those in Italy?” Eddie cuttingly replies. 

At which point Steve sits up and turns to glare at Eddie. “What’s your problem, man?” 

Eddie shrinks under his gaze, frowning unhappily as he mutters back. “Nothing.” Unconvincingly.

Steve purses his lips at that, and presses on. “Did I strike a nerve? Is it a sore spot for you?”

“Ohhhhh. I’m sorry. That question is not in the binder.” Eddie replies with a halfhearted little chuckle.

“Oh, really? I thought you were the one that said we needed to learn everything about—“ Steve starts but Eddie shakes his head. “Not about that I didn’t.” 

“But-“ Steve protests.

“Not about that, Steve. Good night.” He snaps. Regrets it when Steve flinches.

Unsure how to fix it, he stews in silence, breathing deeply, trying to come up with something. Thoughts going around and around.

He’s properly kicked himself for the whole interaction at least four times by the time Steve speaks again, his voice timid, words totally unexpected as they break the silence that had settled awkwardly over the two men sharing a bed.

“I like watching The Real Housewives.” He volunteers quietly, interrupting Eddie’s thoughts with his unprompted reveal.

“Huh?” Eddie answers in confusion, eyes still fixated upwards.

“Not in the ‘haha, isn’t that funny, he likes that trash’ kind of way. I actually quite enjoy it.” Steve murmurs back, fiddling with the blanket pulled up to his chest. 

Still confused, Eddie takes it in as Steve continues, “I took ballroom dance lessons in the sixth grade…My first concert was Bob Seger and the Silver bullets…” 

Clears his throat. “I think Kirk Hammett is sexy…My first kiss with a girl was with Carol Perkins when I was thirteen. Later that same year I also kissed Tommy Hagan. They’re married now.” 

Eddie laughs in bewilderment. 

“Never had a pet.” Steve glances at Eddie, who isn’t looking back at him, which makes it easier for him to say what he wants to say next. ”The tattoo I wanted to remove?” He asks, humming, “I got it on my ribs because I wanted it to hurt. It’s in Italian - verso cose più grandi. It means ‘Toward greater things.’ I got it after my parents disowned me.”

There’s another silent pause before he continues “I haven’t…slept with anyone in…over a year and a half. And uh…I went to the bathroom and cried after Billy suggested that I was going to die alone.” 

Eddie pulls the blanket tighter around him, the statement unexpectedly tearing straight to his heart when Steve adds. “That’s my biggest fear. Or, it was.” He stammers. “Lately I’ve been much more afraid of-” he cuts himself off. Squeezes his eyes shut. Leaving the words unspoken.

“Doesn’t matter.” He whispers. A few more beats go by. 

Eddie thinks he may be all out of revelations, until, in the softest voice possible, he whispers another confession that shocks Eddie to his core. “I’m uh, I’m losing my hearing.” 

To which Eddie’s head finally shoots over to look at him, his jaw slack. 

“I haven’t told anyone that. For obvious reasons.” Not meeting his eye, Steve clears his throat. 

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice breaks. He had been coordinating this man’s entire life and he’d had no idea. None. 

“It’s been gradual but - yeah. Too many concussions.” He explains with a dry chuckle. “I’ve had it checked out. Gotten a second and third opinion. It’s not a matter of if at this point, uh, it’s just a matter of when.”

He glances at the ceiling. “I guess you didn’t know. I thought you might suspect…all the emailing lately. The transcriptions I have you write up of my meetings…And then, there’s been a difference in the music. Comments you’ve made on the stuff I used to produce. How it was good. Past tense. I had more confidence in my abilities then…I didn’t rely so heavily on projections and numbers and all that bullshit that spells sales, yes, but good music?” He almost smiles. “It’s not the same. You’re right. Try as I might to fill in the gaps - experiencing the way the music feels…”

He gives a little shake of his head. “It’s not the same. And still, I couldn't do a thing without you. You, who are so loud about your opinions of the demos that artists send me when they’re worthwhile, or they’re garbage and I - I trust you.” He admits, the most damning admittance of all.

“You um. You know good music. And you know me. You’ve always been able to see me more clearly than I - than I’ve liked.” He stops. Swallows thickly, voice low again, and reserved. “I’m sure there are many, many, other things, but that’s all I can come up with right now.” 

Eddie rolls back over in the bed, and clenches his eyes closed as Steve finishes.

It’s silent for a bit.

“Eddie?” Steve broaches finally, his shaky voice attributing to his vulnerability in the moment they’re sharing. “You, uh, you there?”

“I’m here.” Eddie promises softly, “Just - just processing.” 

That was one way of explaining it. How his world has been tilted off of its axis. Left him fumbling for his footing, unsure.

This was unexpected. 

Even Steve, as he’d clearly hated opening up to Eddie, he’d done so. Given him much more to work with than the surface level things Eddie already knew. This was a deeper intimacy than just knowing if his stove was gas or electric, and Eddie is…lost with it.

Still, he knows how to ease the tension, if nothing else. He slowly starts to smile, probing, “You really haven’t slept with anyone in almost two years?”

Steve snorts. “That’s what you got out of all of that?” 

“That’s a long time.” Eddie defends himself.

“Yeah, well, firstly, you’re rounding up, and secondly, I’ve been a little busy.” Steve sarcastically answers. 

Eddie chuckles, and then there’s silence again between them. 

It’s comfortable, until, “Who’s Bob Seger?” Eddie suddenly asks. Steve sits up in his bed like a vampire exiting a coffin.

“Who’s Bob Seger?” Steve questions. “You - you know.” He starts singing in a surprisingly good voice, “You take those old records off the shelf - I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by myself. Today's music ain't got the same soul. I like that old time rock 'n' roll.” Steve grimaces. “You’re telling me that you work in the music industry, and you don’t know who Bob Seger is?” 

Eddie’s smiling. “I was kidding…I just wanted to hear you sing.” 

Steve whacks him with a pillow, both of them giggling until they settle back into the bed, silence filling the room once again.

“Steve?” Eddie asks him.

“Yes?” He replies.

Eddie gives it a beat - then changes his mind. “Thank you, for telling me.”

Steve lets out a little laugh through his nose. “Yeah…well.”

Eddie figures he owes him his truth, for the interview if nothing else. “And for what it’s worth…They call me Junior for my dad, Al…Spitting image, you know? Chip off the old block…The acorn that didn’t fall far or whatever it is you want to call it.” He chuckles humorlessly. 

Goes on, “I’d never really liked it when they said that but, uh, less so now.” Steve listens, lets Eddie talk, watching his lips move. Eddie is louder than he probably needs to be, out of consideration for Steve. “A couple years back he cooked up this scheme - I should have known better, really, but what he promised it was just - so tempting. So I got involved and it - it got real dicey. People got hurt. The house burned down, all mom’s records just - gone.” Eddie exhales. “He took off to save his own ass and uh, I haven’t seen him since. He didn’t bother coming back for me.”

Steve’s heart breaks for Eddie - who continues on with his explanation like it’s all well and good now, like it didn’t permanently alter him and his own personal Munson Doctrine. “I was supposed to move to California, but after the fallout, I had to stay a bit. After everything I put Wayne through, I had to stay a bit. And he - Al - he knew how to find me in California so I…I moved to New York instead, and now, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Steve chuckles. Thinking about the insanity of it all.

But, he also knows how to ease the tension. “None of that was on your job application, by the way.” He teases.

Eddie chortles. “Steve, you have to know by now that everyone lies on their resume.”

Steve glares at him. “You had glowing references!”

“I found those names and phone numbers online, sans the proper extensions, and figured you’d probably never actually bother to call them.” He snickers.

Steve gives a faux gasp. “You lured me in under false pretenses.”

“Sure did. And now you’re marrying me. Sucker.” Eddie laughs. Steve laughs too,  feeling a slight hitch in his throat.

“I…I don’t know if I properly apologized for that yet.” Steve supplies, ruining the light jovial moment with harsh realities.

Eddie winces. “No need.”

“There is a need though. Trapping you in this marriage I…I wish I hadn’t been so careless to let it come to this.” He sighs. Eddie sighs too, and doesn't berate Steve for his own negligence and mistakes. Which Steve appreciates.

“Well, it’s like you said, I’m yours now. Come hell or high water, til quickie divorce do us part.” He smiles, like Steve isn’t laying here trying to recover from Eddie calling himself his. 

“Sure.” Steve says weakly, and Eddie gives him a little nudge with his foot. 

“What’s done is done…and you know, for what it’s worth, I’m actually getting a pretty good deal out of this. A record deal. With a hot albeit temporary husband to parade around town, so…”

And Steve knows he’s attractive. He does. Has never doubted it, but to hear it from Eddie, when he’s complacent in all of their scheming…It messes him up a little. He gives a weak laugh at Eddie’s words, because it’s what’s expected of him, even as he’s reeling.

“Get some sleep,” Eddie says then, like it was nothing. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I want to see how your studying is going.” 

Right. Studying. For the interview. An impending deadline they were steadily marching towards, and their true goal, regardless of whatever…this was.

Steve nods, and Eddie says, “Night, Steve.” softly.

Steve’s answering voice is hollow.  “Buona notte, Eddie.”

Upon their return to New York, Steve is feeling deeply unsettled.

Not because of the ruse - that, in itself, remains as solid as ever. 

Through a warm goodbye with Wayne and a cozy plane ride home, Eddie had played the part perfectly. A doting fiancé who wore his love on the outskirts of his sleeve.

But now, they were back, the honeymoon was over, so to speak, and Eddie was already back to himself again. A doting employee.

He runs over the list of things Steve needs to know for work the next day, and asks Steve what he needs from him, willing to give and give and give.

Steve tries not to wince. “You’re off the clock for now.” He tells him, to Eddie’s utter confusion. “Seriously.” He swears. “Get some rest. There’s nothing so important we can’t tackle tomorrow morning.”

So Eddie, in his cute band shirt and dark wash jeans, had taken his own car home. Probably unpacked. Probably ate something without guilt, played his guitar, took a nap - something fucking normal, while Steve went home, to his big empty apartment, alone.

Well not, totally empty.

“Dingus.” A female voice calls out affectionately as he walks through the door.

Rather than being disturbed by the intruder in his home, Steve’s shoulders slump in relief.

Robin Buckley - his best friend, wielder of a spare key, and the only person in the world who was privy to the inner workings of Steve’s mind - somehow always knows when he needs her.

She’s dressed well, smiling from the bar stool at his kitchen island with one of his fancy waters to sip on as his doorman deposits his bags inside, Steve passing him some cash before he goes.

As soon as he has that business settled, he’s falling into Robin's arms, almost crushing her in his encompassing hug.

“Woah!” She laughs. “It hasn’t been that long. Just a week.” Referring of course to her own trip - the one she’d disappeared on before this whole mess had gotten underway.

Steve gives a head shake in any case. “That’s like forever,” he whined as she laughed some more, ruffling his hair. Giving him a once over. 

Clocking immediately that something is wrong. “Why the dark cloud, Stevie?”

He makes a face. Trying not to cry. She gets a brief flicker of panic across her face. “Oh no.” She says immediately. “Who do I need to kill?”

He wheezes out a laugh, and then, against his better judgment - involves Robin in his crimes as well. Because why not her too, on top of Eddie? Why not ruin everything he touches, like he always has. Because he’s bullshit - his love is bullshit - he…

“So…you like him. Your assistant.” Robin says finally, before he can fully spiral.

Steve nods pitifully. 

“But you can’t tell him, because of the…current arrangement. And the blackmail, not to mention the work relationship you have - holy shit Steve this is so inappropriate-” she rambles.

Steve moans. “I know.”

“Well, does he like you back?” Robin suddenly asks. Steve glares at her. “Robin, please, be serious.”

“I am serious!” She defends. “You said things changed while you were out there, right? What if it wasn’t just one sided.”

“That could never happen.” Steve bites.

Robin huffs. “Why not?”

“Because he’s…good, Rob. He’s so fucking good, and sweet…And fucking, down to earth. And I’m…not.” His lip quivers. 

Robin grasps his hand. “Steve…”

“There’s no way he could ever like me. This is just a…a helpless situation I’ve put him in, that he’s making the best of.” He leaves no room for argument. “I just…I had to tell you. Had to hear you say all of that. To remind me. You’re right. You’re right, and it’s fine. It’s just a stupid crush. I’ll get over it.”

Robin doesn’t look like she believe him. Which is…fair. What she says next is not.

“Or…” she starts. Steve raises an eyebrow. “Or?” He presses.

She sort of smiles, “Or you could…woo him.”

“Woo him?” Steve gapes.

“Well yeah!” She defends. “So long as your plan is to end this boss-employee dynamic, why not try and keep him? You’re pretty likable when you’re not a raging bitch. I don’t see why he would be impervious to your…charms.” She snickers.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, tries to keep her words from invading his brain. “That’s insane.”

“Why? Because you might actually end up being happy?” She stares him down. “You deserve to be happy, Steve.”

“Not like this. Not at his expense.” Steve argues firmly. 

Robin only sighs. “Just think about it, will you? Start small. Get to know him. Treat him like a person, instead of…whatever it is you do.”

Steve grimaces. Robin sits back in her seat, swinging her legs, casually adding, “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Steve looks at her funny. “Meet him?” He asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Steve. That’s how this works - you meet his family - he meets yours - or has it been so long since you’ve done this that you forgot?”

He swats at her. “Shut up.”

She laughs, “I’m serious! He sounds wonderful, and he’s going to be Mrs. Harrington - we need his blessing to continue our Bitchin’ Brunches, and oh! Do you think he’ll do the marathon with us? It’s still pretty far out, we can get him a shirt made-”

Steve lets her go, talking aloud in circles while he gives responses where appropriate. Once they’re mercifully done discussing the whole thing with Eddie, they move on to her latest field research trip, and other important topics they’ve had stirring around in their brains while they’ve been apart.

It feels good, like he’s truly come home, a feeling Steve didn’t have when he thought he was returning to an empty apartment.

And with Robin in his corner, it feels like everything else will work itself out.

Steve approaches the subject of ‘Robin’ one morning a few days later while Eddie hands him an expense report.

He presents her as a fact of his life - nonnegotiable. Eddie isn’t nearly as perturbed as some of his romantic partners have been in the past - but then again, he and Eddie weren’t really romantic partners.

“Looking forward to meeting her.” Eddie replies. And Steve kinda hates that. How easily Eddie agrees to anything he asks. And it’s not Eddie’s fault, it’s his job, it’s why he was hired, but…

Steve would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent way too much time dwelling on Robin’s words.

And he yearns.

“Oh, and uh, one more thing…she knows.” Steve adds.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “She knows.” He repeats. Steve doesn’t like the look on his face, like he’s done something wrong.

“I…she saw right through me. In two seconds. I couldn’t lie to her. I can never lie to her…And it helps, kind of? She’ll corroborate our story. Someone in our lives had to have known, right? Even if it was a secret?” He rationalizes.

Eddie’s face is blank. “I guess.”

Steve is frustrated. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not.” He lies. Steve glares. His expression cracks. Eddie sighs, walking on eggshells and oh Steve hates that even more.

“It’s just…we laid the groundwork, swore no one knew and now there’s another layer to it. Another person whose answers need to match, more of this I need to coordinate and I just…it’s a lot.”

Steve deflates a bit. Want to apologize but instead offers a flat, “I get that.”

Eddie exaggeratedly perks up, handing him his highlighter, “Don’t worry about it, Steve. I will figure it out.”

He goes to exit the office. Steve feels like shit, calls out. “Eddie?”

The other man stops and turns around. Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry but, I need you this afternoon, after my meeting. We have to go to my apartment.”

Eddie doesn’t mind, he had to work this afternoon anyways. Nods dutifully. “Course,’ whatever you need.”

He heads out. Steve drops his head onto the desk, feeling pain starting behind his eyes, spreadsheets forgotten.

Eddie gets back to his work day - thinking nothing of Steve’s latest request for his time.

Since the engagement, Eddie has been pulled to and fro by him in a whirlwind, always insisting on Eddie being clocked in for it, even if their business is dubious at best. 

The other day he’d spent the morning with Steve at the bank and they opened a joint bank account, Steve flirting with him the whole time they were under the scrutiny of the tellers, crooning about how what was his was now Eddie’s too. Something that made Eddie’s eye twitch if he thought about it too hard.

Today it seems it will be more of the same. 

As instructed, after his boss’ noon meeting, Eddie finishes up everything he needs to do and meets Steve at his apartment.

Arriving promptly, he takes the elevator up to his floor, where Steve lets him in, greeting him warmly, as if this afternoon is a distant memory - and maybe it is, but still Eddie is wary - until he sees that they aren’t alone.

He looks at Steve for clarification as to why there’s another man here, and he doesn’t miss a beat, diplomatically introducing. “Eddie, this is Johnathan. Nancy’s boyfriend.” 

Eddie does a double take. “Nancy as in, Nancy Wheeler?” He asks.

Steve doesn’t sound happy about it, although he’s smiling. “Yes.” 

Eddie glances back at the other man, telling him. “Um, hello.” So as not to be rude.

“Hi.” Johnathan gives an awkward wave with one hand, his other setting down a mug of coffee onto a coaster that rests on Steve’s expensive coffee table.

Then Johnathan stands. “Now that you’re here, I’m gonna go finalize the set-up.” He disappears from the living room at his words, heading to another area of the penthouse.

Eddie watches him go before glancing at Steve with concern and asking “Why is your ex’s girlfriend’s boyfriend here, and what is he setting up?” 

“Johnathan’s a photographer.” Steve explains to him, begrudgingly admitting. “The best, actually.” 

Then his voice lowers as he continues. “He’s also discreet. No investigative prodding like you might get with his romantic counterpart.” The jab comes so naturally even as he bulldozes past it. 

“I figured, since we needed to take some pictures, that he would be a good bet.” Steve rubs the back of his neck.

“Pictures.” Eddie repeats.

“For the engagement announcement. Or…whatever else we might need them for.” He looks meaningfully at Eddie. “I thought we’d start with some formal staged pictures here? And then get some candid photos at our usual date spots?” 

Oh.

Eddie understands. “Right. Of course. And Johnathan is the best. Makes sense.”

Steve briefly looks exhausted before he carefully smoothes his face over. “I-I didn’t hear what you said. But, nod? If we’re good?” 

Eddie nods. 

Steve nods too. “Okay. Good. Uh, come with me, please.” 

Eddie can’t remember the last time Steve said ‘please’ to him…Actually, well, he’d gotten a sarcastic one with his proposal…but a genuine please? It’s…strange.

Nonetheless Eddie follows as Steve leads him to his office. Inside there are three racks of clothes tucked to the side. When Eddie goes to peruse through them, he’s surprised. “These are mine.” He says in confusion. 

Steve nods. “Your bandmate Gareth had a spare key.” Steve had made some calls. Some assumptions too, figuring if his best friend had full access, that maybe… “I though that authentic would be better.” 

Eddie takes him in for the first time then - his soft looking yellow pullover and jeans. Is this who he is? Authentically?

“I’ll make sure you have one of your own. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.” Eddie tells him. Simple enough. This was the man he was supposed to marry - and if nothing else, con aside, there was trust between them. Steve had admitted that he trusted Eddie, and Eddie, in his own way, trusted Steve too.

Not to mention that Eddie had had unfettered access to Steve’s apartment for years. What was a little reciprocation, in light of that?

Eddie leaves it at that, attention elsewhere as he starts combing through the racks, sweetened by his getting to choose. Eventually he decides he wants to dress up, just a little bit. 

Settling on black once again, it’s a softer version of his usual style. 

A nice belt with a simple silver buckle, to accompany a pair of high waisted jeans that are free of rips or blemishes, and a shirt with a low cut that exposes his collarbones and some of the skin of his chest, a peak of a tattoo, the black fabric interrupted by an occasional floral pattern or rose composed of an orangish-red or cream color. 

Satisfied with his find - Eddie disappears to go change, before rejoining Steve, his hands fidgeting with his hair. 

“Up or down?” He asks, and Steve, who had been staring at him - lips parted - seems to snap out of it. Gesturing for Eddie to stay still before he steps into his personal bubble.

Hello.

He gently takes a handful of Eddie’s hair, winding and unwinding and unraveling it in and around his palms - before he manipulates it into a makeshift hairdo, trying to get a feel for whether it should be pulled out of Eddie’s face or left down.

“Hm…up. You have such a pretty neck.” Steve’s lips are hinting at a smile, and Eddie wishes he had chosen for him to leave it down - because said neck is currently flushing at the compliment and Eddie knows Steve can see it.

What the hell?

Then Eddie notices Johnathan, lingering in the doorway and pretending to still be adjusting his camera settings, and he feels as though he’s had his veins dipped in ice water.

Right. This wasn’t real. Steve didn’t really like his neck or find him pretty. It was all a performance. 

And Eddie’s a performer. He can do this. Playing along, he grins back at Steve, showing too much teeth. “You know your sweet talking gets me all riled up, big boy.”

Steve looks…elated. “You promise?”

Jesus H. Christ.

A weak chuckle, and Eddie bats him away before gathering his hair in his own hands, pulling it up high, trying to sort the smaller pieces into something artfully messy.

Steve lingers, fingers twitching like he wants to intervene, but lets him be, still looking at Eddie even as he angles his body and asks Johnathan, “Where do you want us?”

Series Masterlist Next Part: Part 6 Previous Part: Part 4

[lecsainz]

i meant brazillian!female!f1 driver my bad, can you do headcanons about her and Vini Jr dating and how their relationship would be like? like her going to his matches and him going to grand prix’s!

DATING WITH VINI JR.

parings: vini jr. x brazilian!f1driver!reader

authors note: I'm seriously considering starting to write this about other players or perhaps Formula 1 drivers... what do you think?

summary: the one where you're Vinicius Jr.'s girlfriend.

✩. . . masterlist !

You often wear Vinicius Junior's football jersey as pajamas, and it's practically a nightly ritual. He finds it adorable, especially when you're drowning in his oversized jersey, but he never asks for it back. Sometimes you steal Vini's football jerseys, and he secretly loves it when you do. You love the scent of his cologne lingering on his clothes, and he finds it adorable how you look in oversized jerseys.

Vinicius is your biggest fan. He attends your Grand Prix races, often wearing a custom-made team shirt with your name and number.

During your races, he's a bundle of nerves, and he can't sit still. He claps, cheers, and sometimes even shouts advice at the TV, as if you can hear him.

Whenever you're involved in an accident during a race, Vinicius's heart nearly stops. He sends you a flurry of text messages, desperately seeking to know if you're okay.

He can't focus on anything else until he gets your reassuring message back.

You have your game day rituals, like wearing matching accessories or texting each other encouraging messages before important matches or races.

You've both taken the time to learn about each other's sports, so you can fully understand and appreciate what the other does.

Whenever your busy F1 schedule allows, you make it a point to attend Vinicius's football matches. You cheer passionately from the stands, waving a banner with his name and number.

Vinicius never forgets to dedicate his goals to you. His eyes always seek you out in the crowd, and he blows a kiss in your direction before running to celebrate with his teammates. Or he points to the sky and blows a kiss, a silent message that he's thinking of you even on the football field.

After his matches, win or lose, Vinicius rushes up to the stands to find you. He doesn't care if the entire stadium watches; he wraps you in his arms and kisses you passionately, making every victory even sweeter.

Late at night, when you're cuddled up in bed, you discuss your dreams of having a family together. You talk about the possibility of your future children being torn between the love of football and F1.

You have playful debates about which sport your future children should follow. Vinicius insists on football, while you argue for F1. The discussions often turn into laughter as you imagine your kids trying both sports.

Like any couple, you have your disagreements, especially when it comes to sports preferences. But every argument ends with a passionate kiss and a reminder of how much you love each other.

Your busy schedules leave little time for intimacy, so you've become experts in having quick, passionate encounters that leave you both breathless but satisfied.

Vinicius can't resist admiring you when you wear his football team's shirt with his name and number. He's almost rendered speechless by how adorable and sexy you look in it.

You introduce Vinicius to the world of TikTok and insist on teaching him Brazilian dance moves. He's not the most coordinated dancer, but he's a good sport and does it just to see you smile. Your dance duets become quite popular, and fans adore seeing your playful side.

Cooking together is a favorite pastime. You both experiment with Brazilian and international dishes, creating your own fusion cuisine. There's often a playful food fight involved, leaving your kitchen a delightful mess

When you're away for races or his football matches take him abroad, video calls become your lifeline. You chat, tease each other, and sometimes even fall asleep with the video call still on.

You make it your mission to make Vinicius a swiftie. You play her songs during long drives, and he eventually starts singing along. He may not get all the lyrics right, but the effort he puts into singing them just for you warms your heart. And you introduce Vini to the world of Taylor Swift, explaining every detail about the "Reputation" era and the folklore love triangle. He's genuinely interested and enjoys discussing the music with you, even if he can't keep up with all the drama.

You teach him Italian - since you race for Ferrari -, and he helps you with Spanish. Your language exchange sessions often dissolve into laughter as you attempt to mimic each other's accents.

Some of your most profound and heartfelt conversations happen late at night when it's just the two of you, cuddled up in bed, sharing your dreams and fears.

When your schedules align, you love going on impromptu adventures, whether it's exploring new cities, hiking, or simply enjoying a quiet picnic in a scenic park.

You alternate planning date nights, and sometimes it's a fancy dinner, while other times, it's a cozy movie night at home with popcorn and cuddles.

Vinicius is not just your boyfriend but your personal cheerleader, always there to celebrate your victories and provide a shoulder to lean on during tough times.

Sometimes, Vinicius surprises you by showing up at your races, making your day even more special with his unexpected presence.

Vinicius often surprises you with small tokens of affection, like your favorite chocolates or a heartfelt note, to remind you that you're always on his mind.

Despite the challenges your careers bring, you both envision a future filled with love, laughter, and the pitter-patter of little feet. You're committed to making it work, no matter what.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Having fun this Christmas? Need a break from all the running around and stuff to prepare or family to meet? Or maybe you need a little pick-me-up because we all know how tough this time of the year can be as well. Then dig right in.

And Even In The Quiet Night by KelpietheThundergod [General audiences, 7k words]

He couldn't answer with the truth when Jody had asked him, concern bleeding through her typical gruffness, “You okay, kiddo? Since when do you care about Christmas?” He doesn't, of course, not really. It's just that Christmas is a widely accepted excuse to cook enough food for an entire baseball team, then eat too much and lounge on the couch surrounded by family and argue about which movie to watch. Or so Dean thinks. Really, it was just a stupid – it's not like Dean is lonely. Sam is here, Cas is here, and the others are – well, mostly not here. But really, it should be enough. Dean is a grown-ass man, he can deal with being alone on Christmas. (Or, the one in which no one cares about Christmas but Dean)

Dance Real Close by Maleyah (Katherine_Kat) [Explicit, 5k words]

For the umpteenth time tonight, Castiel swallows and clenches his teeth, hard enough that he might just need a dentist appointment once this horrendous evening comes to its inevitable end and he has what he came for. Good thing the company has excellent health care. He forces his gaze into a faux-thousand yard stare, a wilful attempt to get lost among the many twinkling lights and ornaments. Just off of the shoulder of the man who is his current, last and most annoying obstacle. Dean Winchester. Dressed to the nines in a suit of snowflake white, he fits in at this high-end Yule Ball as if he hasn’t done anything else in his life. Top of his class and generation, ten years Castiel’s junior, much too skilled for his own good at nigh anything from close combat to subterfuge to extraction, his competition, who is, for some unfathomable reason, flirting with Castiel on the mission.

From Your Secret Santa by ILoveLucey [Teen and up, 26k words]

Dean and Sam have had a tough year. Their dad died, leaving them parentless, and Dean has had to pick up the slack to make sure his little brother is fed, clothed, and has a roof over his head. To say that Dean is not in the Christmas spirit this year is an understatement. That is, until Dean gets a secret Santa who wants nothing more than to make the brothers' Christmas a cheerful one. The mysterious gift-giver apparently plans to do that with twelve days of cheesy poems, dorky activities, and, okay, some actually really nice presents. Dean hates to admit it but before the twelve days of Christmas are over his mood is effectively turned around. The only thing is, he's pretty sure his secret Santa is actually more of a secret admirer. It could be anyone from the Roadhouse trivia teams but there is only one person he wants it to be - his brown-haired, blue-eyed, oh-so-sexy best friend who has been there for him through everything and who he has a major, secret crush on.

Here's to Many More by wincechesters [Explicit, 15k words]

After a blowout at his parents' house on Christmas Eve, Castiel resigns himself to a lonely, miserable holiday. On his way home he finds himself at a dive bar, spilling his life story to the handsome, charming bartender he's just met. It's an unlikely set of circumstances, but when the bartender invites him to come home with him, Castiel says yes—and it looks like he might not be spending his Christmas alone and miserable after all.

I Love New York by followyourenergy [Explicit, 44k words]

When Dean’s brother can’t go on their planned trip to New York City, Dean goes alone. He meets Cas, a man who’s there to “do things differently” and invites Dean to do the same. Through their adventures, Dean expands not only his palate, but his idea of who he is, who he can be…and who he can be with.

Orna-meant to Be by MalMuses [Teen and Up, 5k words]

It's been a long year, but Castiel and his vampire boyfriend Dean have finally reached their first Christmas together. The first of many, if Dean has his way. A fluffy holiday timestamp in the Bat Dean 'Verse.

Snowy Blue by Kitmistry [Teen and Up, 3k words]

On the brink of a new year, Dean runs into an old friend.

The Prince Switch by teacass (Fushigi) [Teen and up, 12k words]

Castiel couldn’t see much in the dark, but there was a silhouette of a tall person standing in the room opposite of his. Judging from the depth of the voice, it must have been Dean Winchester, Jimmy’s best friend, sous chef, and co-owner of the bakery. “Hello, Dean,” Castiel whispered. Even he heard it sounded way too official and too much like his princely self, so he quickly corrected. “I mean, hi. It’s just me. Go back to sleep.” “What are you doing up?” Dean asked. Oh, it’s nothing. I just snuck out of the palace in the middle of the night to switch places with your best friend, Castiel thought. “I couldn’t sleep,” Castiel said out loud. “Too excited about the whole competition thing.”

[sizzal]

Hair dye!!!! Kiri X Reader

!!!!!Not my Art!!!!!! (Not my art) Hope you enjoy it!!!! 😆 🌺🪷🌻 Not a good summary But worth a read!!!!! Hair dying turns into a long night of feelings and love spells enjoy my little angels!!!!

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You and Kirishima had been friends since the first week of school at U.A. It is junior year now!  It was innocent at first just being friendly that soon turned to play fighting and that turned into long nights talking about everything under the sun. You had kept everything very much in the friend zone. So it was no surprise that you would ditch the rest of your group almost every Friday night to gossip, dye Kiri’s hair, write, talk, paint, dance, and just keep each other company just the two of you. People shipped you and rumors of you two dating speculated but that was all here say. Girls still asked Kiri but he always politely declined. He only wanted you and he told Bakugou he would wait as long as humanly possible until he could love you “properly”.  He went on some dates but very rarely. But recently something had changed you and he could feel it.  

You had been waiting for Kirishima for the last two hours. He had gone to get string for friendship bracelets and hair dye. You were left all alone on your bed sitting crisscross writing poetry. Yes!; You had resided to “boring” self-discovery. Something Kirishima hates to do.  

“Just be yourself why do you need to figure out who you are when you can Just Be”! He said while he ripped the common book out of your hands. Eager to watch the new movie he has been obsessing over. 

“Well, I happen to like writing poetry. It is the purest form of self-discovery. Just let me finish this last statement and then we can put on the movie”. You said. the sound of soft knocking wakes you up from your trance from when this happened the first year you two hung out. 

“Ok, Ok I am coming,” you said whilst tripping over your own legs and slamming the ground with a bang. You sprung back up and v-lined for the door.

“Hey,” you said with a sigh.

“Hey, did you just fall off your bed” 

“What no… ok yes. Do you have the stuff..?” you said with the smallest form of sarcasm. 

“Yes!!!!” he said while lifting the plastic bag to show you the hair dye and string.

“Thank god you were gone so long I started getting greys,” you said while going back to the place where you had sat before this “major interruption”. 

“Good God! I can see them” he said half joking while laughing. He flopped down on your bed face first with an exasperated sigh. He rolled over to face you, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

“ Umm, can I have the bag now or are you just going to keep me waiting”

“Don’t even start now Miss Impaction, you’ve kept me waiting for three years? Yeah three years now”.  He said while lifting the bag up so you could take it. Then he moved to lay on his stomach. Thinking about how tonight was the night he was either going to confess or accept defeat and lose hope for ever getting as far as the talking stage he had been stuck in the last three years. 

“Ok buddy talk about impation,” you said while you started to rummage. He replied with a sigh. He had bought his signature red dye, the string you asked for, and a myriad of snacks. Ranging from sweet, sour, and savory.  

“Oooo what are you writing?” he said before adding “Dear dairy today I am faced with the inevitable fact that I am so deeply in love with my super hot, sexy friend Eijiro Kirishima. He is the love of my life and I am going to marry him tonight at midnight.” he said mocking you almost perfectly. After he grabbed your book and flipped to the page you had been writing on. You replied with a swift whack of your pillow hitting him square in his face with not a second to spare.  You let go of the pillow and let him digest what just happened.

“HEY!, He said while grabbing you by the waist as you attempted to flee. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and he sat you in his lap facing away from him and tickled you. 

“OH GOD NOOOOO, HAHHAHAHAH,” you said laughing, trying to wriggle your way out of his tight grip.

“Oh, yes honey,” he said as he ruthlessly tickled you. Him having as much fun as you. 

“PLEASE STOP ILL PEE MYSELF IF YOU DON’T, AHHHHhahaha,” You said still kicking and trying to pry yourself from him.

“Should have thought about that before you hit me with that pillow, Angel” he said.

You managed to get away for a brief second before he had you pinned to the bed. Hanging over you, pinning your hands above your hands.  He was so close, you could feel his body heat radiating off of you. You could feel him. You thrashed trying to get free but he wouldn’t budge, all in good spirit of course. 

‘PLEASE I’LL PEE I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL” you said laughing through the tears that were forming from the edges of your eyes. 

“Do it, you won’t” he said calmly as he tickled away. He then let go because he could see it in your face you were about to pee.  He peeled off of you and sat up letting you go free. 

“ Good god Eii, One more second and I would have pissed myself,” you said jumping up and running to the bathroom peeing with the door only partly closed. 

“God” He groaned under his breath, so quiet that not even you could hear it. He was truly whipped. The full view of your body. The way your cleavage pushed up, almost out of your tight sports bra-crop top. Or how your soft-toned stomach looked in those short tight-lose linen shorts. Or how your thighs felt as you pushed against him trying to get free. The way your perfume did things to him. You just did him so dirty. Your demeanor, how you two grew up together. The way your body has changed from fresh out of middle school to this beautiful vessel to hold your engaging personality and loveliness he was sure no one could ever get to except you.  And how smart you were. How you were in love with literature and art. Good god he wanted you; all of you 

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” you asked Eii in a playful tone. 

“Do you? Little miss I am going to hit my best friend in the face with a pillow.” he said mocking you again.

“Well Pretty boy, you mocking me was the whole issue remember?” you said washing your hands under the lukewarm water.

“Mhm,” he replied as he flipped through the pages that you had added to your book. He sat with his head against the headboard of your bed. One leg arched, the other stretched out softly.  you waked over and sat next to him as he scooched over 

“These are actually good, I like the one about rivers and moons and stuff,” he said as he continued to flip through. 

“Yea. Ooo flip back to that page I wanted to show you this.” You said as he flipped back slowly so you could pick it out.

“This one”, you said taking the book and reading: 

“I see you almost everywhere 

In the trees and how they sway softly to the rhythms of our once-shared heart 

I see you in the sunrise 

In the way the colors are painted in the sky, blurring together like notes sitting patiently on a staff; waiting to be played 

I see you in the ocean and how she glistens  in the light of the hour in the heat of the day, the time we were most intimate 

I see you in the moon 

How she sits patiently waiting for her star that will never fall back for her; the star that keeps her bright and beautiful. In a time where we would never know who we are. 

I see you in the rain

In the way the sky cries, melodically sharing her song of anguish and hate for those who prefer her kinder weather 

I see you in almost everything 

and almost everything sees me”. 

You finished, Kirishima’s eyes were locked on you and only you. He never looked away not even for a second. 

“Is that about your Ex?”

“..yea, felt it was time to let him go considering he left me.” You said as you jumped up to grab the hair dye.

“ Is it that time already,” he said burying his face into your bedspread groaning like a kid.

“Uhhh yes, your roots are horrific,” you said pulling him into the bathroom.

“I like the new art you put in your “common book,” he said the name of your book very sarcastically. 

“Yea it‘s a good advancement from heartbreak,” you said while holding your hands over your heart like you had been shot sarcastically referring to your last breakup。

He just rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your waist looking at you two in the mirror of the bathroom. 

“Mmmmm, we would be so perfect together,” he said groaning. He buried his face in your neck. 

“Ok, let me het the stuff for your hair,” you said paying no attention to his last comment. He would say these suggestive things when he had a bad day. Today was one of those days.  You grabbed a tote with solan grade bleach for his hair, a mixing cup, a brush for the dye so everything is even, an old towel, gloved, and tinfoil. He picked you up and sat you facing him carefully on the sink as you started to mix the bleach for his roots. He leaned in right between your legs closing any larger gaps between you two. 

“Ok, so do you want to do your whole head or just the roots,” you said as you combed through his head.

“Do we have to do it tonight, I could just rock black and red hair. The roots don’t look that bad,” he said as he looked in the mirror and picked through his hair himself. 

“Girl, you’re not serious, right?

“Dead ass” 

“you say that now but tomorrow morning you will be rushing to get them covered up,” he said 

“I guess, Just do whatever,” he said with a sigh.

“Look,” You said while grabbing and smooching his face in between your hands so he could look at you. “If you are going to be in a bad mood just leave. I don’t need Mr Moody. Like I am helping you, so be nice to me” you said as looked him deep in his eyes.

“Mmmm,…….. ok I’ll try, but just for good messers can you kiss me better” he said pursing his lips and trying to kiss you.

“Eww, Eii nooo”, you laughed- shrieked as you pushed his face away.

“Just one,” he said chasing your face

“HAHAHA, Nooo,” you said dogging all his attempts. 

“Just one!” 

“Fine, hold still” You said as you held his face gently his your hands and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

“Not what I was expecting but I’ll let it slide,” he said as he mentally kicked himself for not just kissing you.

“Hey, it’s not my fault expectation is the thief of joy,” you said as you kissed him again “Just for good luck,” you said as his face washed with surprise. You looked through his hair and realized the color was fading.

“Feel better”

“Yes princess,” he said as he let you look through his hair once more.

“The whole head I assume,” he said after a pause of silence. 

“I think so, I mean unless you want to look like Mina with faded pink hair this Halloween, oo that reminds me I have to do her hair before we go to the party next weekend,” you said and you started mixing the bleach for his whole head.

“Alrighty but let’s watch a movie,”  he said as he left for his computer. 

“Put on saw.” You shout from the bathroom. 

“Which one?” he shouted back 

“The first one, I haven’t seen ‘em yet,” you said while following him out to the bedroom as you set the towel on the bed so you didnt drip any bleach or color on the white comforter. You washed his hair before this all started. 

“Take your shirt off,” you said while sitting behind him and rubbing his back

“I beg your pardon“ he shot “I would never taint a fair woman unspoken for， without a chaperone” 

You laughed at his joke referring to Brigdgerten and how absurd their world is 

“Shut up, haha,” you said hitting him on the shoulder playfully

“watch it girl pop,” he said jokingly as he pulled the shirt off his back and chucked it in the laundry hamper across the room.

His back was so muscular, it was alluring, to say the least. You touch his back. The warmth sends a slight shiver down your spine.

You started parting, bleaching, separating, layering, and wrapping in tinfoil. This process started at 7 pm and ended at 8 pm. By the time you were finished, he only had about 5 minutes with the bleach left in his hair. You ate snakes and squirmed under the grotesque movie you two were watching. Laughing and talking just about life. Just going back to friends and out of this weird mood he was in. 

“All right done with part 1, five minutes left till we wash ok?” you asked making sure he knew. The timer went off and you paused the movie it was almost finished with the first Saw. You both walked to the shower, unhooked the sprayer, and had him bend over the lip of the tub as you washed the bleach out as you would have in a real salon. 

“Omg!!!! You look so good, almost like Bakugou” you teased 

“Oh My FUCKING GOD!!!! I do” He said as he looked into the mirror. He had never looked at his hair blonde, it was a “cardinal sin” as Kiri put it. But You were pretty sure that he just didnt want to fall in love with the blonde. 

“Ok let me put the red in,” you said as you mixed the red into a clean mixing bowl. 

“Omg I kinda love this new look, but it would be pretty unmanily to take Bakubros look.” He said, he finally seemed back to normal.

“Yeah, don’t get any idea Ei,” you said while pointing to the bed to continue his hair routine. 

You started to put the red in wrapping it in foil and moving to the next one. You maneuvered around him to get every piece. Finally moving to the last part, the roots. 

“Wait! Before you do the roots, do you still have any bleach left?” He asked turning to you.

“yea, why?” you said skeptically afraid of what he was going to do. 

“just come” here he said as he raced to the bathroom. You followed him reluctantly. He sat you on the sink once more and took the bleach in his hand. Mixing what was left in the bowl.

“Do you trust me” 

“Oh god, what are you going to do” you asked as scared as hell.

“Just do you trust me”

“no…yes..no…why” you whined 

“Just trust me angel…mmmk,” he said as he winked and smirked with this wicked smile. It was cute tho, He was cute. 

“Ok… don’t let me regret this”, you said as you let him put bleach in your hair. He pulled your hair out from your half up half down style and brushed it, washed it then put the bleach on your money pieces. Your hair was a little longer than your chin, with a bit of a bob-not-bob going on with very nice layers and longer curtain bangs. You put your hands over your face and squealed. Afraid of the outcome.

“Ok we are done,” he said with an excited sigh. You turned to see your bangs covered in tinfoil. 

“Oh lord!!!!! If this is bad, I’ll shave your head” you said as you pushed him away gently as you hopped off the counter. He sat back down and you started to do his roots. You finished the back and sides all that was left was the front. You started dying the roots. Not even 5 minutes before:

“Ok stop, we need to talk,” He said as took your hand leading you to sit on the bed. 

“yea???? is something wrong?” You asked genuinely confused about what he was about to say.

“I can’t do this anymore, the hiding, lying and faking. Just come clean or I will” he said giving you a chance to confess first. You stared at him confused and blankly looking for a reaction you could cling to to make this make sense. You had no idea what he was talking about.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” You said genuinely. 

“Bullshit,” He said as he looked you so deep in the eyes. A look only described by infatuation. Your heart started to pound like a beating drum. We he about to say what you thought he was?

“Ok since you won’t say it I will, I have liked you since the first week I met you. You are interesting, compelling, smart, and beautiful. I have loved growing up with you these past years, I love that you are constantly changing with and away from the times. I love your personality and genuine caring personality. I love that you are passionate about everything, art writing, and everything in between. I have seen you grow out of phases and relationships just as you have seen me do the same. It has been an honor spending time with you as close as we have gotten.” he sighed and your heart just kept pounding not a single thought could be seen in your brain. You felt bad bc he was pouring out his heart and all you could think about was how y’all’s hair was so cooked. He started again:

 “I told myself that when you got out of your most recent relationship if you did, considering how much you loved your Ex. That if you broke up I would make a move. It sounds creepy and weird and I don’t want to lose you because of this but I am prepared to.  I didn’t think your relationship would last as long as it did, I thought you found the one, but then it crashed and burned. Y/n L/n I love you, I have for the longest time. I have never loved anyone like I love. Bakugou was telling me I should make a move and Blah blah blah but I was scared. So tell me you feel the same.” he said as he put his face in his hands, hiding his burning blush. 

“Eii…” you started sweetly before he stopped you

“Just let me down easy pls,” he said. You took his face in your hands and leaned in and kissed him long and passionate, just how you always wanted your first kiss to be. His face lit up as he threw his arms around you pulling himself into your embrace. Giving you the biggest hug and feathering kisses around your face fast and rough. 

“Wait you not kidding right?” He asked stopping mid-face kiss. 

“Fuck no’ you said as he started to yell with joy. 

“Omg she loves me too…. She…she….love..es me” He said jumping up and singing, spinning and pacing before crying in disbelief. 

“Kiri…. oh you poor baby come here pretty boy,” you said while standing up and cradling his face in your neck as he sobbed out of happiness.  

“Oh shit my hair!!!!” you said leaving him to reflect and take in this newfound reality.

You washed out the bleach. He let you surprise him with your new hairstyle it’s your turn to surprise him. You took some of the grade-A red hair dye and put in on the money pieces wrapped it in tinfoil to sit and went you to finish his hair. You finished it, set a timer, and sat in front of Ei.

“Kiss me again?” he said 

“Of course pretty boy,” you said as you placed a soft kiss on his lips before deepening the slow passionate kiss. The warmth and rhythmic melodies escaping from both of your mouths just filling the room with an intense heat. His hand was intertwined in your hair and he deepened the kiss even further. Your hand around his neck and cheek needing him, needing this. His tongue reached for your lips as if to ask for permission to enter your mouth. You both meeting in the middle. The taste of Kirishima was intoxicating. The way he slides his tongue on the tip of your teeth and how his tongue wastes not a second to explore every part of your mouth, you follow his lead. As this kiss expands. His pace speeds up at a rapid pace. He was never a patient person so you understood this need for you, this lust. The lude noses dripping from both your lips. His hand pulled at your soft short hair causing you to moan. You really did something to him and it showed in the way his pants had a tent in them from the way he was bricked. Only leads you to feel the heat in your core growing rapidly. 

You ran your tongue over his sharp teeth before he groaned in this newfound pleasure. His tooth accidentally went straight into your lip causing blood to spill over the kiss.  His shirtless body looks so fine in the low lighting. His define mucless and yummy-looking abs. 

“MMMMM,” You whined as you pulled away, 

“Trying to kill me I see,” you said as a long string of saliva parted both ways. You both laughed at the lude sight. You brought your hand up to his lip and wiped away the saliva and he did the same ,smearing it all over instead. 

“Eww, EI!!!!” You laughed. He just smiled。

“Sorry, I didn’t even process the fact I cut you, am so sorry, let’s clean you up,” he said while grabbing you bridal style and setting you down on the sink. You got all patched up just the timer went off. 

“Hey, I gotta wash your hair,” you said as you hopped down once more and showered him off. You washed his hair making sure to thoroughly scrub his hair and massage his head. When you finish it’s your turn.

“Hey go get ready for bed I am going to wash my hair out,” you told him while placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Wait how long has that bleach been in your hair?” he asked confused and worried.

“Don’t worry I have a surprise for you” you said as you smirked and giggled.

“oh lord,” he said convinced you were about to lose a third of your hair. You washed out your hair and blow-dried and styled it just to make sure it had the best first impression. 

“ok I am coming out” 

“ook you long enough,” he said as his jaw dropped. He was speechless, the bright red in your dark hair. 

“Now everyone will know I belong to you,” You said giggling as you ran to his arms and cuddled up on your bed. 

“God damn it I love you even more now,” He said kissing and running his hands in your hair.  you before you said 

“I love you too my pretty boy” You cuddled him to sleep. Tomorrow will be a crazy day for your class. a Saturday get-together at the skate park. This would be fun.  (Your class was geeked to see yu two toegether Mina made you tell her the whole story start to finish!!!)

Thank you guys, so this is long and took a while. Sorry for spell check mistakes I am illiterate!!!  NOT PROOF READ!!!! Tell me what you think about this!!!!

Love you!!!!!!!!!♥️😆