#like on my way home just now there was a guy at one of the intersections waving his trump/asshole running for local office sign

[smileysuh]

apartment complex

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader I ft. Haechan & Jaehyun

🔮 preview. So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess? 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, pent-up sexual tension, shower sex, masturbation, fingering, hand job, thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, breast worship/nipple play, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple reader orgasms, multiple sex positions, size kink (Johnny is big and a slight manhandler), mentions of aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) 304, baby, princess. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.3k

🍭 aus. Love square, slice of life, neighbours to lovers, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. So when Johnny calls her the nickname ‘304,’ we’re not doing full numbers, it’s ‘three-oh-four’ which I actually think is kind of cute haha 

One:

You feel like an absolute mess. Your hair is all over the place, you’re in a full sweats ensemble that is - true to its name - making you perspire like nothing else as you lug boxes upon boxes of your stuff into your building and up to your new apartment.

To make matters worse, you’re exhausted. Moving days have this absolutely draining effect, and you can’t wait for the day to be over. You’re not even sure if you’ll unpack anything- maybe you’ll just fish out a towel and some body wash from one of the many crates you have, shower, then collapse onto your mattress- do you even have the energy to set up your bed frame?

You’re busy trying to plan out how you’re going to even accomplish the day, when the elevator doors open, and you find yourself staring up at one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he grins, stepping next to you in the small space. “Moving in?”

You’re so distracted by the way his biceps look in his muscle shirt that it takes you a moment to speak. “Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Johnny,” he tells you.

“y/n.” The box in your hands is beginning to slip from the sweat on your palms, and you haphazardly readjust it on your hip.

“This might be a little forward,” Johnny chuckles, “but do you need any help?”

“Uh…” You turn once again to look up at this absolute tower of a man. “I’m almost done moving everything-”

“Let me guess, boxes done, just some furniture stuff left?”

You feel your skin flush with heat. “Is it that obvious that I’m struggling right now?” An awkward laugh escapes your lips, and you’re happy to find Johnny return the sound with a soft, understanding smile.

“Usually when cute girls move somewhere, they have a boyfriend, a brother, a dad, a friend- someone to help them do the tough stuff, and since you’re alone, I’m guessing you’re troopering this whole thing out all by yourself.”

“New city,” you explain. “I don’t uh- don’t know anyone here just yet, and my family didn’t want to take time off work to help with any of this.”

“Lucky you bumped into me then,” Johnny grins. “I just finished up at the gym, but I’ve got energy to help a new neighbour.”

The elevator dings to signal you’ve made it to your floor, and Johnny follows you out.

“You’re the new tenant for 304?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, stopping in front of the unit you now call home.

“We really are neighbours,” Johnny laughs. “I’m 306.”

“Look it was nice to meet you,” you say, “but you really don’t need to help, I’m sure I can manage my bed and a few other things-”

“y/n,” Johnny interrupts you, “I promise I’m not some creep, just a good neighbour offering help. You look tired, let me help you.”

Your pride makes it difficult to accept this sort of thing, but you swallow it, offering Johnny a nod. 

And that’s how you find yourself moving your bed and the last bit of furniture into your new apartment with one of the sexiest guys you’ve ever seen. He’s quite the charmer, and he’s reassuring too- calming you down when things are a little heavy, and slowing his own pace to match your exhaustion.

In no time at all, everything is out of the moving truck, and Johnny leans in your doorway as he watches you slump into a chair. 

“Do you want help making your bedframe or anything?” he enquires.

“Honestly? I think I’m going to call it a day,” you admit. “The drive here was long, I’ve been up since five AM, didn’t sleep well last night due to nerves-”

“Sounds like you should get some rest,” Johnny nods.

“I really appreciate your help though,” you offer. “I’ll uh, have to buy you beers or something.”

Johnny only laughs. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I work on a rig, so I’m only here a week or so every month, you caught me at a good time.”

“Oh.” You can’t help the disappointment that surges through you. Of course this man was too hot to be true- of course he has a job that requires him to be away for long periods or he’d probably have an equally hot girlfriend already.

“But… let me give you my number, and if you ever need anything while I am here, you can just give me a shout.” 

The two of you exchange digits, and with one final smile, Johnny leaves you be. 

You lay on your bed for a while, trying to calm down- from the moving, or from being around a ten out of ten, you’re not sure. 

Two:

It’s your first time doing laundry in the new building, and to your disappointment, you find the shared laundry room to have no available machines.

A sigh escapes you as you stand there momentarily, wondering if you should wait five minutes for a turn over, or just scratch this whole idea and hope there are empty machines tomorrow.

As you’re considering your options, the laundry room door opens, and a tall blonde enters.

“Hi,” he beams.

“Hello.” You watch him carefully, noticing that he heads to a machine to take out his clothes from the washer. “Uh- do you mind if I put my stuff in there once it’s empty?”

“Of course not,” he smiles. “With only six machines for the whole building, it can be a bit rough trying to nab one on busy days.”

“I’ve noticed,” you laugh. “I’m new here, my name is y/n.”

“I’m Jungwoo,” he tells you, moving his clothing into the only empty dryer. He turns on the machine and then steps back, looking over at you again. “So are you new to the building or new to the city?”

“The city,” you admit, beginning to move your stuff into the now empty washer.

“You have that look.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just- a lot of people here are boring, we’re not exactly known for fashion or anything like that-”

You look down at the Stitch onesie you’re wearing that you’d bought for Halloween a few years back but has since become a comfort outfit, then back up at the blonde.

“I just like your style!” he insists. “Not everyone can rock blue pajamas!”

You find yourself laughing at his sincerity, shaking your head as you grab your washer fluid to get the machine going.

“Anyways,” Jungwoo sighs. “Did you move here for work?”

“I actually work online,” you tell him. “I can work from anywhere, and I figured this would be a nice place to get out of the big city for a while- cheaper rent, more nature, that sort of thing.”

“Makes sense,” Jungwoo nods. “I’m a server at a bar just down the road.”

You take a moment, then laugh. “You seem like a server.”

“Because I’m so cute and social?” he grins.

“Definitely,” you nod, enjoying his energy.

“Anyways, I love making friends, and since you’re new to the city, I’m guessing you haven’t met a lot of people yet. If you want to be friends, I’d love to add you to my gossip roster.”

“Your gossip roster?”

“I’m a server, which means I love all things tea- except for when grandmas order actual tea in the middle of a rush, that’s the worst.”

“I’ll take your word on it,” you grin.

“So… friends?” Jungwoo asks.

You nod. “We can be friends.”

Three:

It’s been three weeks since you moved into your new apartment, and in that time, you’ve gotten settled, and even visited Jungwoo at his bar. He’s an interesting friend, and he seems to know everything about everyone.

At first, you’d been worried about any ulterior motives he might have, as you’ve experienced many men try to make a move on you under the guise of just wanting to be your friend. But now, you realize Jungwoo’s intentions towards you are pure- or, as pure as they can be given how much gossip he consumes.

You get the sense that you’re not his type, and that’s a hundred percent okay with you, in fact, it’s a dynamic that makes you finally feel comfortable accepting an invitation to visit his apartment.

It seems all the attractive men in your building live on your floor, and as you enter his unit, you find yet another cute man standing in the kitchen.

“This is Mark,” Jungwoo introduces you. “Mark, this is y/n. Don’t worry, Lee, I’ve told her everything about you.”

“Oh, great,” Mark sighs.

It’s true, Jungwoo has divulged way too deep into his roommate’s history. You know that he’s a content creator and chef, he used to work in a prestigious restaurant, went on one of those reality cooking shows, managed to be the runner up for the first place prize despite his awkward nature, and has now been commissioned to write a cookbook focused solely on burgers (which Jungwoo has assured you is actually a broad topic despite what you might think).

You also know that Mark has a limited dating history, with a high school sweetheart who left him right before his stint on live tv, and a new crush on some barista that he’s too shy to even talk to despite the fact that he goes to her coffee shop every day just to order frothed milk with vanilla since caffeine doesn’t agree with him.

“So what’s on the menu tonight, chef?” Jungwoo asks, coming to stand right behind Mark in the kitchen.

From the way Mark clears his throat and steps back, it’s obvious to you that he’s not as comfortable about being close to people as Jungwoo is, and you find yourself enjoying this roommate dynamic already.

“I’m actually testing some stupid protein burger for muscle heads,” Mark admits.

“Aren’t burgers already high in protein since they’re meat?” you ask.

“Yes, and no,” Mark groans, “it depends. I want to have a few vegetarian and even vegan options in the cookbook I’m writing on burgers- and lots of people want high protein even in their plant based meals.” 

“So… what are your options for this burger you’re trying to create?” you enquire. 

“I’ve tried some black bean patties, chickpea patties, that sort of thing- but I’m considering making an entire two page fold dedicated to dredges and batters that you could use on a variety of burgers, meat or vegetarian. I got everything to make a protein powder infused batter, but I’m just now realizing that the protein powder I have on hand is chocolate flavoured, which really won’t work if I put it on anything, let alone a tofu burger.”

“Call Jae,” Jungwoo says simply. “That man has a collection of protein powder that would make a man on steroids combust.”

“Maybe I should just run to the store,” Mark sighs.

“You only need a small scoop of powder, right?” Jungwoo counters. “Why would you go buy an entire plain jug of protein powder when a protein head lives next door?”

“I’d hate to bother him,” the chef groans again, and you find yourself starting to realize the true depth of his social anxiety. 

“I’ll call Jaehyun,” Jungwoo states, pulling out his phone.

You take a seat at the island counter while Jungwoo makes a deal for some powder with this ‘Jae’ person, and you watch Mark fuss over other ingredients that he adds to a dry mixing bowl.

There’s a knock at the door, and then a man peaks his head inside of the apartment.

Your eyes lock and the wind is knocked from your lungs- is every hot man in the city living in your building?

“Jae!” Jungwoo yells, “come in!”

The man steps into the apartment, offering a smile, and the dimples in his cheeks practically blind you. There’s no way around it, this man looks like a model. He’s handsome, but there’s a slightly feminine softness to the angles of his face, a warmth in his eyes, and it’s absolutely captivating.

“Am I interrupting?” Jae asks as he approaches the kitchen, his eyes continuously meeting your own.

“Not at all, Mark’s just floundering as usual, and I’m hanging out with my new friend. y/n, this is Jaehyun, Jaehyun, this is y/n.” 

“Nice to meet you,” you smile.

“You too.” Jaehyun sets a tub of protein powder onto the kitchen counter next to Mark, then he turns his full attention to you again. “So how did you meet Jungwoo?”

“In the laundry room,” Jungwoo is quick to explain, and you don’t miss the exchange of glances between Jaehyun and your friend. “She’s new to the building.” Jungwoo practically winks at Jaehyun, and you get the suspicion that he’s trying to set you up with this model looking protein man.

“I love meeting new neighbours,” Jaehyun says smoothly. “What floor are you on?”

“This one, room 304.”

“No way.” Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “That’s right across from mine!”

“You’re 305?” you ask, heart beating faster in your chest.

“In the flesh,” Jaehyun grins.

“Can we move the talking somewhere else?” Mark asks quietly. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

The energy fizzles immediately, and Jaehyun nods. “I was actually just heading to the gym.”

“Of course you were,” Jungwoo rolls his eyes.

“But uh, I’ll see you around,” Jaehyun says, looking at you directly. “Welcome to the building.” 

Four:

You suppose you shouldn’t be shocked when meeting cute men in your apartment building anymore, but you still find your breath leaving your body when you’re bringing groceries up from the parking garage only for a very cute man to enter the elevator.

He steps in and flashes you a smirk, then looks at the floor buttons. “You’re headed to three?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

“Are you new?”

“Been here about a month.”

“Huh,” the man looks stumped for a moment. “I feel like I would have seen you. I’m Hyuck by the way.”

“y/n.”

Hyuck nods. “Are you liking the building?”

“It’s nice,” you muse, too tired from your day at the grocery store to make much smalltalk. 

“You must be… unit 304? I’m a couple of doors down, near the corner. I know someone moved out, and I heard from the building manager that someone was moving in, but fuck, I can’t believe I haven’t met you yet.”

“I can be kind of reclusive,” you joke. “I mean, I work from home.”

“Ahhh, you’re one of those girls.” Hyuck grins at you knowingly and your heart leaps into your throat.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just, you know, sometimes the cutest girls are the ones that stay in their house all day.”

“Oh.” You’re really not sure how to respond to his statement, and your eyes shift down to the floor as the elevator comes to a stop.

The two of you both turn to the left, and Hyuck walks in step with you to your door, where he stops. “What’s that?”

You’re confused for a moment, too busy fumbling with your keys, but when you look up, you realize there’s a sticky note on your door. 

“Looks like you already have an admirer,” Hyuck grins. “Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime,” he reads. “Who do you think left this?”

You’re pretty sure it was Jaehyun who left the note- after all, the only other people you know are Jungwoo and Johnny, who both have your number, and you doubt Mark Lee of all people would be this forward. 

“I uh-” you stutter a little, swallowing thickly. “I’m not sure.”

“So are you single, or…?”

“Definitely single,” you blurt out, pushing your key into the door and clicking it unlocked.

“Definitely single,” Hyuck repeats as you push into your apartment, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Five:

You’re finishing up after dinner when your phone makes a beeping sound, and you quickly pick it up, surprised to see a message from Johnny.

‘Looks like you’ve got some secret admirers, 304.’

Your stomach drops, and you realize that in your haste to enter your apartment after finding Jaehyun’s note with Hyuck earlier, you hadn’t actually removed it from your door- but wait, admirers? As in… plural? 

Tripping over yourself to get to the door, you throw it open to find not one sticky note, but two.

While Jaehyun’s initial ‘Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime’ is still there, someone has taken the liberty to put a second note on top of it, and this one reads; ‘I’m more fun, let’s have drinks.’

It’s clear who the second note is from, and you’re quick to rip both off of your door. 

Jaehyun and Hyuck are both quite forward, and your heart is racing as you go sit on your couch, feeling conflicted.

You pull out your phone again, releasing a deep sigh as you write up a text to Johnny. ‘This apartment building is so weird.’

‘Boys will be boys,’ comes his quick response. 

Taking another breath to calm yourself, you look at the texts, and that’s when you realize, ‘I didn’t know you were back from the rigs.’ 

‘Got back a couple of days ago :)’ 

Tapping your fingers against your couch, you try to figure out how you should play this.

You’re most attracted to Johnny, but now that Jaehyun and Hyuck are so clearly demonstrating their blooming affection for you - out in the open where everyone on your floor can see - you wonder if that might throw a wrench at Johnny’s own feelings for you…

Does Johnny like you?

When he’d helped you move your things, was that just him genuinely being nice? 

You feel absolutely twisted, especially since you’ve never considered yourself the type of girl to entertain a long distance relationship…

‘So… you’re in town for a few more days?’

‘three!’ 

You definitely need to sort out your priorities. 

Six:

You’re in need of a drink as you walk into Jungwoo’s work, taking a seat at the bar and releasing a deep sigh.

“For a girl who came to happy hour, you don’t look too happy,” Jungwoo muses as he moves to stand in front of you.

“Is it that obvious?” you laugh.

“I mean… you’re the hot new girl in 304 who has two guys fighting over you in sticky notes, I’d expect you to be a little more up beat.” 

“You saw that?” you ask in shock.

“Everyone saw it. Whoever left those notes weren’t exactly subtle… who did leave those notes, by the way?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head at your friend’s need for gossip. “You know one of them at least.”

“Jae, I’m guessing,” Jungwoo nods. “He asked me for your number but since I’m your friend I’m not just out here handing around your personal information.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And guy number two?” he enquires.

“Some dude named Hyuck.”

An interesting expression immediately appears on Jungwoo’s face. It’s something between an ‘oooooh!’ and an ‘ooop!’ and you can’t quite place the emotion.

“What?” you ask, leaning forward. “You know him?”

“Everyone knows Hyuck.”

“They do?”

“Let’s just say…” Jungwoo’s voice lowers as he leans over the bar, “he’s a provider of things that a lot of people like to get their hands on.”

“Huh?” 

“A plug, there, you tortured it out of me, Hyuck is a plug,” Jungwoo throws his hands up as if you just twisted his arm for the information, and you stare at him blankly.

“A plug,” you repeat.

“You can’t be that innocent, babes, you know what I mean.”

You sit back in your chair, thinking it through.

So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess? 

“Where did you even meet Hyuck?” Jungwoo asks.

“In the elevator?”

“Why did that sound like a question?” your friend laughs.

“I don’t know! God, I’m just… overwhelmed.”

“There are worse things to be overwhelmed about, I mean… tax season is coming soon, and I don’t know how much fraud I should commit with my tips.” 

You can’t help but laugh at Jungwoo, and he’s succeeded in using humour to calm you down. 

He’s grinning at you, and he taps his hand onto the bar top. “Let me make you a drink, on me, but you’ll be paying me with gossip, deal?” 

“Deal.”

You trust Jungwoo to make you drinks by now, and he doesn’t ask what you want, he simply begins to mix a fruity concoction together. Soon, he’s setting it down in front of you and you’re taking a large gulp.

“So…” he grins. “Hyuck or Jae?”

“Are those my only options?”

Jungwoo’s eyes widen. “Spill the tea.”

“I just… I met this guy Johnny when I moved in-”

“Johnny as in super tall, blue collar, muscle man, Johnny?”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh.

“And you met him the first day you moved in?”

“He actually helped me with boxes and furniture.”

Jungwoo lets out a whistle. “Now I see why you’re overwhelmed.”

“I guess, I just don’t really know any of these guys too well. I’ve only met all of them once-”

“But you have a favourite,” Jungwoo interjects. “Johnny’s your favourite, despite his fucked up job.”

You sigh. “How could you tell?”

“I watch a lot of reality tv, in shows like Love is Blind or Singles Inferno sometimes a girl has multiple guys going for her, but the first one leaves a mark… it’s not always the case though, but it’s about that initial impact.” 

“Impact,” you repeat. “Johnny definitely made an impact… and he saw the notes from Hyuck and Jae.”

“Oooooh,” Jungwoo grins, “scandalous.” 

“But he works away for weeks at a time!”

“He’s here now,” Jungwoo points out. “So… go on a date with him, and sort out Hyuck and Jae after.”

“You think so?”

“What could be wrong about it?” Jungwoo shrugs. “Go on a date with Johnny, see how you feel- maybe he does something gross that turns you off and it makes life easier.”

“Or maybe he’s perfect and it makes things even worse,” you sigh.

“You never know until you try. Another thing from my dating shows is that no one wants to live with regrets, and I don’t think you do either.” 

Seven:

You’d taken Jungwoo’s advice, and after two drinks at the bar, you’re home, waiting for a knock that sounds on your door.

Taking a deep breath, you fix your outfit, approaching your entry way to find Johnny standing in the hall. He looks all tall and gorgeous, in a similar laid back muscle shirt and sweats combo to the one you’d first seen him in. His hair is a little messy and damp as if he’d just come out of a shower, and the smell of his piney bodywash has you going weak. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you smile back. “Uh, come in.”

Johnny nods, stepping past the threshold. “Are you a shoes off in the house kind of girl?”

“Yes, please.”

You watch him kick off his runners before turning to you. “I’m a little confused.”

“You are?”

“I got your text that you wanted me to come over, and I half expected you needed help building some cabinet or something, but then I remembered you’ve been here a month already, so now I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“I told you I’d buy you a beer for helping me move my stuff, remember?” You let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t have beer, but I did open a bottle of wine.”

“That works,” Johnny grins.

“Come, sit.” You move to your living area, taking a seat on the couch. Johnny joins you, and you note the way he immediately shifts his body to be facing you. He watches you pour him a glass, and you both notice your shaky hand as you pass it to him.

“How much have you been drinking, 304?”

“A bit.”

“Rough day?” he enquires with a smile.

“Just…” you let out a deep breath. “Not used to all the attention I’m getting here.”

“Yeah, your entourage.” Johnny sips his drink, still grinning as if this is the funniest thing in the world.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m not the kind of person who loves getting a lot of attention?”

Johnny cocks his head to the side. “I think it’s hard for a girl who looks like you to avoid that sort of thing.”

God, he is into you, you can taste it- or maybe that’s the sweet notes of your wine. 

You don’t know what to say, but you feel a grin appear on your face, your eyes shifting down to your glass. “I don’t know about that.”

“Just an observation,” Johnny laughs. “So… what are you going to do about all of this?”

“I think…” you swallow thickly. “I think I’m doing something right now.”

“Yeah?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Yeah.”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to be at a loss for words, and you get the sense that this isn’t something that happens very often to him.

“I’m sure you know what it’s like to get a lot of attention,” you offer.

Johnny shrugs. “I’m only in town a week every month, and when I’m here I spend most of my time at the gym or at home. I’ve never been a big party guy, I prefer cheap beer to bars, and I guess I’ve just accepted that a guy like me has to be single.”

“You have to be?” you enquire, cocking your head to the side in a bid to understand him better. 

“Most girls aren’t interested in starting anything with a man who works on a rig. I understand the guys who have girls before the job, and they stay after building a foundation, but it’s hard to work on the start of a relationship when you’re not around.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod- in fact, it’s something you’ve considered to great length already. “If… if the right girl came along, would that be something you’re interested in exploring?”

Johnny lets out a deep breath. “That’s a good question.” 

You watch him sip his wine, giving him the space to consider it.

“I just… I wouldn’t want a girl to feel like she’s an afterthought, or a fuck buddy- and doing the work I do, I have to be focused. It’s day rate, it’s dangerous, sometimes the rigs are a couple hours away from camp, and that’s on top of a twelve hour shift-” He lets out another deep sigh. “I think it would take a very special, very loyal kind of girl to give me a chance.”

“And what would you say your type is?”

His eyes meet yours. “I love a cute girl next door.”

Your heart thumps in your chest. “Funny, I like a boy next door.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re neighbours.”

Johnny lifts his glass and you clink yours together, giggling.

It’s crazy how things can feel so comfortable with him already- but in the background of your mind there’s a sense of dread looming, after all, he’s leaving in just two or so days.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.

“Of course.”

“I’m sad you’re leaving soon.”

“I’m not leaving yet,” he points out.

“You know what I mean.”

Johnny shifts, resting his arm on the back of your couch. “I have a proposition for you, 304.”

“God, stop calling me 304,” you laugh.

“It feels like we’re interested in each other, but I get the sense you’re unsure about the long distance aspect. What if we hang out tonight, tomorrow I take you on an actual date, and if things go well, we could talk about what communication would look like when I’m away.”

“You know what?” you take a deep breath. “I would like that.”

“But… I have on condition.”

“Hit me.”

Johnny is quiet for a moment. “I’m aware that, no matter how good our dates tonight and tomorrow are, me being away might be too much for you. You have two other guys who are interested and they live here, so… even though I’m a cuddly person, I think it’s better for both of us if we keep things PG before I leave, that way… I mean, if you chose one of them because distance is too much, at least things won’t be awkward for us, and we can still be friends.” 

“I think…” - as much as you hate the idea and want to climb him like a tree - “I think that might be the most mature way to handle this.” 

Johnny nods. “So… what are your thoughts on aliens?”

“Huh?”

“UFO’s, UAP’s, USP’s-”

“What even are all of those?” you laugh.

“Unidentified flying objects, unidentified aerial phenomenon, which is pretty much another term for UFO’s, unidentified submersible phenomenon-”

You shake your head at him in affectionate shock. “Where did you learn all of this?” 

“History network,” Johnny grins. “Listen, why would I ask you surface level questions when we can dive into conspiracy theory? UFO’s are a good way to bounce into all sorts of topics, religion, politics, current and historical events-”

He’s a little odd, but you suppose you understand where he’s coming from now. You decide to give up control, and you lean into his question, loving the twists and turns that the conversation takes. You talk about everything, from the moon landing, to ancient monolithic structures and tv shows about space, a discussion about recent alien films leads to an analysis on favourite actors-

Before you even know it, hours have passed, the wine bottle is empty, and you feel as if you know him a lot better than when he’d first entered your apartment. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asks.

You sigh, looking at the time. “At nine.”

“I should probably get out of your hair then. When are you off?”

“Fiveish.”

Johnny stands up, stretching, and you can’t help the way your eyes move to the exposed strip of V-line when his shirt rises. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow at fiveish, 304.”

You rise to your feet, pleasantly surprised when the gentle giant pulls you in for a hug. God, the feeling of his chest against your cheek- the soft cotton of his muscle shirt and the scent of his cologne- you release a deep breath, fully melting into what must be one of the best hugs of your life.

“I’ll text you,” Johnny says, and as he does so, his lips brush the crown of your head.

He’d said PG, and you suppose this is PG, but fuck, you want more.  

Eight:

Out of all the possible date venues, you hadn’t expected bowling. Johnny had told you to dress casually, he’d picked you up, and taken you down to a massive black truck- he’d driven you around town, pointing things out to you, and you’d ended up at a small, underground bowling bar.

He’s a bit of a goof ball, but you can tell he’s got experience playing this game. To compensate for your lack of skills, he does all sorts of trick shots that make him miss points, and you appreciate his effort to not decimate you. 

You drink beer and chat and play, and again, it feels so natural with him. 

When the game is over, the two of you get in the truck, and Johnny says he wants to show you something. A fifteen minute drive leads you to the edge of town, on a lookout that’s perfect now that it’s dark and the small city’s lights are sparkling.

“Do you take all your dates here?” you tease.

Johnny chuckles. “Would you believe me if I told you I haven’t been on a date in a while?”

“I guess with your job, I would,” you pause, looking over at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The large man releases a sigh. “I had a highschool sweetheart,” he starts. “But as time went by, she couldn’t deal with me being a blue collar man. She was very corporate, and our life styles weren’t exactly a match. When she broke up with me, I switched from construction to the rig jobs, figured it would be easier to just put my head down and work. Been doing that for about six years now.”

“So you haven’t dated since highschool?” you ask in shock.

“There’ve been a couple of things here and there. Took a few summers off, had flings, but shit always hit the fan when I went back to work.” 

“That makes sense,” you nod. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a family man at heart,” he assures you. “As a supervisor, I definitely make enough money to take care of the people in my life, but it’s always been a time issue.” Johnny takes a breath, and then he meets your gaze. “What about you? Any skeletons in your closet?”

“Had a couple of failed relationships, the last one inspired me to move away from my home city and come here so I guess there’s a silver lining to it. Ended things with my ex about a year ago and nothing really felt the same after that, figured a change of scenery would do me good.”

“And has it? Done you good?”

You look over at the gorgeous man sitting next to you. “Definitely.” 

It feels like the perfect moment to kiss him, and you note the way his gaze dips to your lips, but then he pulls back, letting out a sigh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Me!?” You act scandalized.

“Yes, you, little miss 304.”

You can only laugh, doing your best to enjoy the rest of your date with him while the knowledge that he’s leaving tomorrow haunts in your periphery. 

Nine:

Johnny’s been gone for three days, and he’s been true to his word when you’d discussed communication while he’s on the rig. He’s kept contact with you, sending good morning messages for you to wake up to, and texting or calling in the late evening when he’s off work.

However, other things have progressed as well. You’d come out of your apartment this morning to find not one, but two bouquets waiting for you, and you feel as if this thing with Jaehyun and Hyuck is getting out of hand.

You find yourself at Jungwoo’s bar again, giving him the rundown on everything that has happened.

“So you’re like, set on Johnny then, huh?” your friend asks.

“I’m not sure, it’s only been three days that he’s been gone but I miss him already, and I can’t even imagine what it will be like to wait another nineteen days-”

“You always knew distance would be a struggle,” Jungwoo nods.

You groan, taking a sip of your fruity cocktail. “I just can’t believe Jaehyun and Hyuck left flowers at my door.”

“You’re going to have to do something about them.”

“Like what?”

“Reject or accept, babes,” Jungwoo says simply. 

“Accept?”

“You’re not technically dating Johnny yet. It sounds like he understands you might go on a date or two while he’s gone, I mean, you had that whole conversation about keeping things PG so it’s not awkward if he comes back and you’ve chosen someone else- it feels like he’s giving you breathing room to explore.”

You can only sigh, resting your head in your hands.

“Do you want to explore?” Jungwoo enquires. 

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re going to bump into Jaehyun or Hyuck sometime, so you better figure it out fast.”

Ten:

As you’re returning from happy hour with Jungwoo, you run into your building manager. He’s a young man named Doyoung. He has a very regal look to him, and he’s as attractive as most of the men on the third floor.

He’s in the small building office, and as you walk past, he stops you.

“y/n!” he calls, waving you inside, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you!”

Your heart sinks- your payment wasn’t late, was it? Did you get a noise complaint? Your mind begins to race-

“I heard that people have been leaving notes and flowers at your door,” Doyoung tells you. “As you’re a young woman who is new to the building, I wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re not being harassed.”

Your brain short circuits- it’s one thing for Jungwoo and other people on the third floor to know about your ‘secret admirers’ but another for your building manager to be broaching the topic with you. 

“I uh,” you swallow thickly. “I’m not being harassed.”

Doyoung gives you a pointed look. “You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Of course,” you assure him. “It’s all just playful, nothing… nefarious.”

God, you hate how proper you’re trying to sound, but how else are you supposed to explain this situation to Doyoung? 

This is so awkward, who knew moving into a new apartment would be this fucking complex? 

Eleven:

You’re in the lobby checking your mailbox when the front door opens and Jaehyun walks in. His hair is windswept, and he looks like he’s getting back from the gym. He immediately flashes you that dimpled smile and your heart begins to thunder in your rib cage.

“Hey, you,” he grins. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, I’ve uh… been busy,” you offer, quickly closing your mail box.

“Seems that way,” Jaehyun muses, and you realize he’s waiting to go to the elevator with you.

Taking a deep breath, you pull up your big girl panties, walking with him to the lift.

He hits the button, turning to you. “So-”

The elevator opens and you find Hyuck standing there, having just come up from the underground parkade, and suddenly you feel like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hiya, hot stuff,” Hyuck grins. “Going up?”

Part of you wants to turn and run away, but you’re in too deep now to go back, so you enter the elevator with the two men who’ve been fighting for space on your door, and maybe also in your heart.

“How’ve you been?” Hyuck asks.

“I’ve been good, just busy,” you mutter quickly, hitting the ‘close door’ button in the hope that it saves you even one second in this awkward elevator ride.

“You coming from the gym?” Hyuck’s line of questioning has taken a turn, and you realize he’s addressing Jaehyun next to you. 

“Yup, you?”

“Was just out,” Hyuck responds vaguely.

You get the sense that these two might know each other in passing, after all, you all live on the same floor, but at the same time, it’s somewhat clear from their muted interaction that they’re not particularly close.

It’s an awkward, silent minute in the elevator, but it’s even more awkward when you all get off on the third floor, with both men letting you exit first, only to struggle in a pissing match over who follows you.

They end up tracing your steps to your door, and when you get there, they both stop.

“Wait,” Hyuck breathes, and you watch him look from you to Jaehyun then back again. “You must be sticky note dude.”

“And you’re flowers guy,” Jaehyun sighs.

Both of them turn to you and it’s Hyuck who asks, “You’re still single right?”

It must be obvious to them both that if they’re warring at your doorstep, neither of them actually have your number just yet, and while it’s awkward to be put on the spot like this, you understand their confusion.

“Still single,” you assure them, fumbling with your keys. “I uh, actually have only lived here a month, and I’m still getting settled-” you search for the right words while trying not to drop your phone. “I appreciate the interest from you both, but this has gotten a little out of hand- Doyoung asked me about all of this yesterday-”

“Doyoung?” Hyuck scoffs. “What does he care if we leave notes and flowers at your door?”

“I guess he’s just concerned about my safety?” you offer.

While you can tell that Jaehyun understands, Hyuck still seems a little slow to the pick up, rolling his eyes. “As if we’d ever do anything bad.”

Which is funny, coming from a guy who’s supposedly a drug dealer.

“I think I just need some space,” you say finally, shocked by the conviction in your own voice as you slip your key into the lock. “To… you know, settle.”

“I’m sure we can give you some space,” Jaehyun offers, and you can tell from his tone that it’s a warning to Hyuck not to argue.

The plug sighs. “Yeah, we can give some space.”

They’re both very handsome, and upon different circumstances, one of them doing the sticky note and flowers trick might have swayed you, but the fact that it’s become something of a war between them has turned you off. The seriousness in Doyoung’s discussion with you yesterday had made you realize as much, and you’d be lying if you said your growing connection with Johnny didn’t have anything to do with it either.

Twelve:

After the debacle with Jaehyun and Hyuck, you’d anxiously awaited a call with Johnny when he was done work and back at the camp. But now, as you talk to him on the phone, you hesitate about divulging in the events that took place today.

Johnny’s making an effort with you, but you can hear in his voice that he’s exhausted, and you don’t want to add pressure to his shoulders-

“Are you okay, 304?” Johnny asks.

“Hmm?”

“You’re just a bit quiet.”

“I’m thinking,” you admit with a sigh.

“Sounds intense, what’s up?”

Another deep breath escapes you. “So… remember the whole secret admirer thing?”

“Uh huh.”

“They left flowers on my doorstep a few days ago too, and Doyoung actually pulled me aside to ask me about it- he was worried I’m being harassed, and it just makes me think about, you know, being a young woman in a new city and my safety…”

You trail off and Johnny takes the opportunity to empathize, softly telling you, “Being anxious about this sort of thing is reasonable given the circumstances.” 

“It’s not that I think Jaehyun or Hyuck would ever overstep-”

“Well, they left notes, and you didn’t respond, so they left flowers, it’s not exactly a sign that they’re going to back off.”

“I guess that’s true,” you admit.

“Anyways, you were saying, about Doyoung?” 

You love how Johnny can get you back on track, and you take another deep breath to steady yourself. “I saw Jaehyun and Hyuck in the elevator today, and they both walked me to my door which was super awkward, and I guess I pretty much ended up telling them both that I needed space. Part of me wasn’t sure if I should tell you any of this, I know you’re tired after work a long day, but I guess I want to be transparent with you about everything.”

The line is quiet for a moment, and when Johnny speaks, you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “I appreciate you bringing it up,” he starts. “If I’m being honest, I’m a little shocked you didn’t accept either of their offers to get drinks.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought I’d made it clear that I’d understand if you did-”

“Just because you’d understand it doesn’t mean I was going to do it,” you tell him.

Johnny chuckles. “I suppose that’s true. I just, I don’t know, you don’t owe me anything- and maybe you’re just not interested in either of them, but I hope you didn’t say no to them to… spare my feelings or something?”

“Well… are your feelings spared?” 

Another laugh escapes him. “I just mean to say, this wouldn’t be the first time a girl thought she could do long distance, only to get a better option in town and jump ship.”

“Maybe I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated,” you tell him.

“It’s starting to feel like you’re not.” You can hear the fondness in his voice, and it makes your heart race faster in your chest. 

“When I get one man in my head, I can’t think about another. I’m not the type to jump ship,” you explain. “You’ve given me no reason to.”

“Except the distance,” he muses.

“Even with the distance, you’ve been attentive every day, and I’ve really appreciated that. You know, some guys will live in the same city as you, take you on one date, then not talk to you for five days- you and I did two dates back to back, and we’ve been talking consistently ever since.”

“Like I said, I didn’t want you to feel like an afterthought.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like just an option.” 

The line is quiet for a moment, then Johnny laughs. “There you go, being dangerous again.”

“If being genuine is dangerous, then I’m the most dangerous woman you’ll ever meet, Johnny.”

“I work on a rig, 304, I happen to like danger.” 

Thirteen:

You’re drinking wine with Jungwoo in your livingroom when your phone dings, and a smile spreads across your face when you see it’s a text from Johnny.

“One second,” you tell him, putting down your wine to respond to your blue collar man.

“Johnny?” Jungwoo grins knowingly.

“Yup, he’s just telling me he’s off work, but now it’s a two hour drive back to the camp.”

“So our girls’ night is over in two hours, got it,” Jungwoo jokes, except, is it really a joke if it’s true?

You can only laugh, shaking your head and setting your phone down again.

“You like him,” Jungwoo notes. “You like him a lot.” 

“I do,” you confess.

“You told Jaehyun and Hyuck off because of him,” your friend continues.

“Uh huh.” You take a sip of your wine, trying to ignore the knowing expression on Jungwoo’s face.

“So… has it gotten sexual yet? You know, asking for snaps of your tits-”

“Jungwoo!” you squeal, nearly spilling your wine as you go to gently smack his arm.

“What!? It’s a valid question!”

“No! It’s not sexual yet! I mean… I think we both have those feelings, but right now… we’re just, getting to know each other.”

“And when he’s home?” Jungwoo cocks a brow and you giggle even more.

“When he’s home…” you lower your voice, “I’m going to climb that man like a tree.”

“I knew it!” Jungwoo cheers. “Team Johnny!”

You clink your glasses in agreement, waiting for Jungwoo to settle down a little. He’s way too invested in your love life, but you kind of adore it. 

“You know…” Jungwoo trails off, “some rig guys do mostly winters, then come back for the summer and will take a couple of months off. I remember seeing Johnny more frequently last August.”

“He mentioned that,” you admit. 

“Did he say if he plans to do that this year? It’s almost March, so that’s April, May, maybe June… three or four more stints up there until a possible summer of love?”

You laugh at his choice of words, but your heart races at the notion of getting to spend your whole summer with Johnny, of a relationship of normalcy. 

“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” you decide.

“Maybe send some sexy snaps to tempt him, or talk about it once he’s home and you’ve sucked that dick, you know, incentives.”

“You’re so bad,” you giggle.

“I’m a hit of realism, which is what you need after living a fantasy for a month with three men fighting over you.”

You let out a sigh. “I suppose you might be right about that.”

Fourteen:

“How was your day?” you ask, practically kicking your feet now that you get to talk to Johnny.

“Long,” he laughs. “You?”

“It was good, hung out with Jungwoo for a bit, had some wine.”

“I can hear it in your voice, 304, you always get extra cute when you’ve been drinking your wine.”

“Do I?” 

“See? I can just imagine you kicking your feet right now.”

God, he knows you so well already- but you suppose that’s what happens when you talk to someone for hours every day. 

“And now you probably stopped kicking your feet because you’re embarrassed,” he continues.

“You’re a psychic,” you declare.

“Sure I am.”

You take a breath. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“So… you mentioned that sometimes you have the summer off, and I guess, since it’s almost March, I was just wondering if you’d be around in June or July.”

“I mean, I wasn’t necessarily planning on it, but if that’s something you wanted, I could see what I could make happen.”

You pause, considering your words carefully. “I don’t want to tell you what to do… and, I don’t want you to lose out on money for me, especially since we just started dating, if you even call this dating- but, at the same time, I think, long term, it would be easier to manage you going away for six or more months if I knew you’d be back for at least part of the summer.”

“I do call this dating,” Johnny tells you. “So I’ll see what I can do about it.”

“I also wanted to know when you’re flight back is, I was thinking I could come grab you from the airport.” 

Johnny chuckles. “I’ll send you the information, 304.” 

Fifteen:

You’re waiting outside your car when you see Johnny coming out of the airport, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore. You run to him, throwing yourself into his arms.

Johnny chuckles, dropping his duffle to pull you closer, even going so far as to lift you off the ground, releasing a groan as he does so.

Fuck, he feels so good, and big, and warm-

When he sets you down, you throw inhibition out the window, grabbing the back of his neck to pull his lips down to your own.

He smiles into the kiss, his palm flattening against the small of your back, his mouth moving in harmony with your own. You kiss him deeply, pouring in all the emotion of having missed him for weeks- 

It’s you who breaks the kiss, panting and looking up at him. “Let’s get you home,” you state. 

“Whatever you say, 304.”

The drive back to the apartment complex is a blur, you’re so distracted by Johnny that you’re surprised you even make it back in one piece. The elevator ride is quiet, filled with tension, and you can practically feel happiness radiating off of both of you.

“Wanna come to mine?” Johnny suggests. “I need to have a quick shower, unpack a little.”

“Okay,” you nod, excited as you follow Johnny to his place.

He lets you in first, and you eagerly eat up what’s in front of you, looking for details of the decor that might help you know this man even better.

However, you find that his apartment is sparsely decorated, with bare necessities, a minimalist look, which you suppose makes sense given the fact that he’s hardly here.

“Your place is nicer,” Johnny muses as he kicks off his shoes. 

“It’s just more furnished,” you laugh, not minding the lack of items.

“My bedroom is this way,” Johnny explains, heading into it while you follow slowly. He throws his bag on the floor next to his bed before turning to you. “I’m going to wash up a bit, then we can do whatever you want… or, I mean, you could always join me in the shower if that works better.”

He winks at you, and it’s very playful. You can only laugh, shaking your head and feeling your skin flush with heat as you look at the ground.

“I’ll be here,” you tell him, but when he disappears into the bathroom, you find your heart is still racing.

Should you go in the shower with him? 

He had offered for you to join…

Can you be a bit more patient?

No. You can’t. As you stand in his bedroom, you begin to undress, hyping yourself up for the moment that you’ve been waiting for.

After a deep breath, you knock gently on the door to his bathroom.

“Come in!” he calls over the sound of water spray, and you peek your head into the enclosed space. 

The room is full of steam, and the glassy walls of the shower are fogged up, but you can see the outline of Johnny’s body and it has you drooling.

You slip inside, closing the door behind you before making your way to the shower.

“Can I join you?” you ask, giving him one last opportunity to decide if this was a bad idea-

“Get in here.” Johnny opens the shower door, grabs your arm and tugs you inside with him. You blink against the mist, looking up at the large man who’s currently blocking the spray of water from hitting you. “Didn’t think you’d actually join,” he muses with a grin.

“Me neither,” you admit.

Johnny strokes your arm, fingers trailing up so he can cup your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone and you lean into his warm touch, releasing a moan. 

“Do you want to do this here, or would you rather we wait till I can get you onto my bed?” he asks.

“Here,” you tell him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

“Didn’t take you as the impatient type,” Johnny chuckles.

“I’ve been patient, for weeks,” you laugh.

“I guess that’s true, let’s fix that.” The tall man leans down, pressing his lips to your own. You immediately wrap your arms around his strong, wet shoulders, pressing your chests together as the kiss deepens. 

You can feel your nipples hardening against him, and his hands move to grab at your hips, pulling you even tighter to his body.

Something is beginning to press against your abdomen, and you love that you’re getting him hard already, that he’s as into you as you are into him. 

His palm slips down, and he grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing deliciously. You break the kiss to throw your head back, eyes closed as you enjoy the sensation of him.

“You know the only bad thing about shower sex?” Johnny asks, lips hot against your throat now. “Water isn’t lube, so I guess you’re going to have to be a good girl for me and wait just a little longer while I get you nice and wet for me.”

“I’m already wet,” you insist.

Johnny only chuckles, squeezing your ass harder as he licks at the sweet spot on your throat. “Let me enjoy this, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

“Really?” you groan. “I never would have noticed, you’re always so PG.”

“I’m not going to be PG anymore.”

“Thank god!” A shiver runs through your body at the idea of what ‘rated R Johnny’ is going to look like- and as he pushes his thigh up between your own, you’re so grateful that you no longer have to wonder, you’re about to find out exactly how dirty this blue collar man can get.

Johnny laughs again, but as he laughs, he pushes his thigh up even higher, making contact with your clit.

“Fuck, I haven’t been touched in so long,” you whimper, immediately grinding down against him.

“Well, you deserve this, you’ve been a very patient, very good girl for me.” 

“I have been,” you nod, rubbing your clit harder against his large, muscled thigh.

“Had options, but you stayed loyal, even when you didn’t have to.” Johnny’s still kissing your throat, and he nuzzles up against your ear, biting your lobe gently. “I feel like those choices have earned you many rewards.”

His words are something like praise- appreciation almost, and you’re thankful that he’s taken into account the fact that you’ve made important decisions to put this blooming relationship first, even when - as Jungwoo said - you had no actual defined loyalty keeping you tied to this tall man.

“I just like you a lot,” you moan, feeling overwhelmed with the possibilities of a relationship with this man- a man who has communicated that he’s interested in something long term, which is such a stark contrast to most of the men you deal with these days.

God, to have hope for a man again- it’s such a foreign feeling.

“I like you too, 304.”

“Johnny,” you groan, “call me something else.”

“I think 304 is cute,” he grins against your throat.

“Please?”

“Okay, baby, I’ll call you anything you want,” Johnny promises, adjusting his grip on you so he can trail his hand up your torso, putting a slight distance between your bodies now so he can cup your breast. His thumb rubs over your hard nipple and you whimper, grinding harder against his thigh. “You are a baby, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

“I could also see you as a bit of a princess,” he muses, pinching your nipple and making you gasp loudly. “Adorable little pretty princess baby.”

He might be overdoing it with the pet names, but you can’t even bring yourself to care- in fact, this overt cheesiness is doing something to you, making your pussy throb as you grind against his wet skin.

“That’s it,” Johnny groans, “I kind of want to watch you get off on my thigh.”

“Yeah?” You swallow thickly, reaching for his hard cock. You’re a little taken aback by how large he is, but you guess you shouldn’t be all that surprised. You’ve been shy so far, not even taking so much as a peek at what you’re going to be working with- and maybe that had been a mistake. You’d been so sure of yourself earlier when you’d told Johnny you could take him without prep, and now you’re realizing how wrong you had been.

A deep moan escapes Johnny as you begin to stroke him, and he rolls your nipple between his fingers, making you cry out- only for his hand to move away, along with his thigh.

You want to protest- only for two digits to press between your pussy lips, teasing your entrance but not pushing in- just playing, toying, moving up to your clit then back down.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“You definitely feel wet,” Johnny muses.

“So finger fuck me?” you suggest, applying more pressure to his cock as you stroke him off.

“Hmm?” He circles your clit teasingly, being so gentle that your body is already practically begging for more.

“Please finger fuck me?” you ask, your free hand now clutching his forearm in desperation.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Johnny cups the back of your head, pulling your lips to his as his fingers enter your hot core for the first time.

Fuck, his fingers alone are enough to stretch you out and it feels absolutely delightful. 

He starts slow, testing the waters as his digits explore your inner walls gently, but as the kiss deepens so do his motions.

You’re absolutely lost in him, whimpering and moaning- your hips even begin to move, eagerly seeking out stimulus that he grants when his palm presses flat to your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, holding his strong, veiny forearm even tighter.

“Feels good?” he asks, looking down at you with lust filled eyes.

“Feels so good,” you nod, fighting the urge to just close your eyes and enjoy it, while also wanting to stare up at this gorgeous man who is watching you with clear interest.

You take a shuddery breath, trying to focus on stroking his cock, but he makes it more difficult when he crooks his fingers up, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside of you that has your legs shaking.

“Are you going to be able to stand through all of this?” Johnny chuckles. “That’s the other bad thing about shower sex, it’s a slipping risk.”

“I think I can do it,” you insist, not wanting him to stop his motions for even one moment.

“Just hold onto me tightly okay, but if you start to fall, uh… don’t pull my dick off.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, and Johnny joins you with a chuckle of his own.

This feels so natural, so safe- the fact that you’re both giggling during your first sexual experience together is a great sign, and it makes you relax a little more, which only adds to the pleasure that’s starting to throb out from your core.

“You close?” Johnny asks, sensing the shift in your attention.

“Too close,” you nod, swallowing thickly in an effort to control yourself.

“Want you to cum on my fingers,” he tells you. “You can do that for me, right princess?”

“Uh huh.” Your mind is becoming clouded by lust, and it’s making it harder for you to respond to him-

His fingers are moving fast now, pistoning in and out of you with just the right amount of pressure, his palm stimulating your clit in a way that’s just enough-

You’re getting closer and closer to the edge and you don’t feel like slowing down. 

Your eyes close, your breathing becoming haggard as your muscles tighten with anticipation-

“Cum on my fingers, baby,” Johnny groans. “Wanna feel it.” 

With that, you explode, unable to contain yourself anymore as his filthy words vibrate through your entire being like a mantra. The pleasure is intense, your core clamping down on his digits, body throbbing deliciously as you give yourself over to the feeling of it.

Your legs are weak, and you grab Johnny’s forearm tighter, digging your nails against his skin.

It’s the kind of ecstasy that you never want to end, and it’s clear that Johnny’s not going to be the one to pull the rug out from under you. He keeps you steady, working you through your high until your legs are physically shaking.

Only once he’s sure you’re finished does Johnny pull his hand away.

You open your eyes to watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you, and an echo of pleasure throbs through your pussy again.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” Johnny tells you.

“Want you inside of me, now,” you respond.

“Hmmm… not yet.”

“What?” 

“You almost just fell over, I don’t think this is the safest place to do this,” Johnny laughs. “Come on, let's get out of the shower, dry off, and I’ll take you to my bed, like I’d planned.”

“Is it really that bad to fuck me here?” you whine.

“One, I don’t want you to slip, and two, I don’t want our first time to be here, you deserve a proper bed, so I can cuddle you after.” 

“You’re such a romantic,” you tease, but your heart swells at the notion of a man actually taking care of you.

“You love it,” Johnny insists.

He reaches behind himself, turning off the spray of water, then, he helps you out of the enclosed space. “Here,” Johnny passes you a towel, quickly patting himself down with his own before wrapping it around his waist, then he begins to help dry you off.

“I can do this part,” you assure him.

“I want to take care of you,” Johnny muses as his palms massage your breasts through the towel, making sure they’re extra dry.

“I think you just want to touch my tits again,” you grin.

“That too,” Johnny laughs.

“Predictable,” you toy.

“You think so?”

“Uh huh.”

In one quick motion, Johnny grabs you by the hips and lifts you onto the washroom countertop, tearing the towel away and discarding it haphazardly as he sinks to his knees.

“I think I’m going to make you cum on my tongue before I fuck you, you know, to prove how predictable I am.”

You don’t even have a moment to argue, Johnny pushes your thighs open, pulls you to the edge of the counter, and dives into your core with his tongue. 

You immediately latch onto his damp hair, throwing your head back as his mouth begins to work your pussy. You’re still sensitive from having just cum, and the sensation of his lips now wrapping around your clit has your muscles clenching with pleasure already. 

“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the way Johnny’s fingers are digging into your thighs, holding you open for a tongue that has a mind of its own.

You especially adore how messy he’s being. There are no kitten licks, no hesitancies, just a full-on lust fuelled ravaging of your core- nothing in your life has ever felt this fucking good.

You tug on Johnny’s hair roughly, but he’s unrelenting, in fact, you think he kind of likes the inkling of pain because he groans against your clit, licking at you sloppily while his nose bumps your sensitive bud over and over.

For a man who doesn’t do one night stands very often, he definitely knows his way around a pussy.

“Shit,” you moan, louder this time, your muscles tightening more and more-

You’re not used to men behaving this way with you, worshiping your body and putting your pleasure first. To have two back to back orgasms before he’s even taken anything for himself? Unheard of.

You can tell he wants you to cum, can tell that he’s eager for it, and the wet licks of his tongue against your sensitive pussy are ensuring that his preferred outcome happens sooner rather than later.

You give in to the feeling, deciding to relinquish control. If he wants to make you cum fast, then you can cum fast, and all of your attention moves to the feeling of pleasure that’s radiating out from your core.

Your abdominal muscles are tightening deliciously, and you begin to buck your hips a little, trying to ride his tongue while you hold him tight to your pussy by his hair.

Johnny groans again and the vibration of it sends a shiver of delight through your entire body.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” You swallow thickly, brows furrowing with effort as you latch onto that feeling of euphoria, unwilling to let it drift away- “just like that, just like that-”

He sucks lewdly on your clit, flicking it with his tongue, and that’s all you need to explode, your pussy clamping down hard on nothing, squeezing and squelching sinfully. 

You’re gasping loudly, moaning like a whore as your orgasm washes over you in waves- and like your first high, Johnny is just as unrelenting with this one.

He doesn’t pull away, and with so much attention focused on your throbbing clit, it’s almost too much for you to handle.

You begin to push at Johnny’s head, but he’s like a brick wall, unmoving and diligent in his task.

“Oh my god-” your voice is raising with effort, raising with the euphoria that’s threatening to overwhelm you completely. “Johnny- too much-”

This time, he allows you to push him away, and you sink back down against the countertop, chest heaving with effort. Your legs twitch with aftershocks from your orgasm, and you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes yet, still lost in the ecstasy he’d just provided.

“You okay, princess?” Johnny asks, and you can sense him rising to his feet, his eyes inspecting you.

“Overstimulated,” you admit, another shock washing through you and making you jolt.

“I got side tracked,” Johnny admits, and you peer out at him from under hooded lids to see him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s okay, it was just a lot,” you assure him, reaching out to gently stroke his forearm. 

“Come on,” Johnny coaxes, lifting you off the sink so he can carry you to his room, “let’s give you a breather.”

He lays you gently onto his mattress, moving the blankets so you can get under the warm duvet.

The sheets smell like him, a manly pine scent, and it makes you groan, burying your face against the pillows while your brain tries to reaclimatize after a mind shattering orgasm.

Johnny joins you, and you instinctively cuddle close to his chest, delighted by the way his large arms wrap around you to hold you close.

“Just give me a sec,” you whisper, but even as the words leave your lips, your hand snakes down to his cock, and you gently wrap your fingers around the thick length.

Johnny chuckles. “Part of me thought you’d be too tired to actually fuck now.”

“Never,” you tell him, although you’re so exhausted from two extreme orgasms that there’s little conviction in the tone of your voice. 

“Take your time,” Johnny assures you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head while you languidly stroke his large cock. Unlike in the shower, however, there’s no lubrication of any kind, and soon, you tire of it.

“Okay,” you tell him, sitting up, “I can ride you.”

“Are you sure you want to be on top?” he blinks in shock. 

“Just to start, just to get used to your size,” you assure him.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

You swing your leg over Johnny’s hips, straddling him, and his hands find your waist. 

“Actually, let me grab some lube,” he says, sitting up abruptly. The muscles in his abdomen ripple under the skin, and you’re taken aback by just how beautiful this man is even as he’s reaching for his bedside table.

He pulls out a green bottle, squirting some of the gell into his palm before he grabs his cock.

You kind of love the view of his large hand on his massive cock, stroking up and down-

“Like what you see?” he laughs.

“You’re just so perfect,” you muse.

“That makes two of us I guess,” Johnny grins. “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”

He’s all lathered up now, and you grab the base of his cock, guiding yourself down on the tip. 

As you sink down even an inch, you groan at the stretch.

He’s covered in lube, and you’re definitely more than lubricated from two orgasms, but fuck- having not had sex in ages only to take the biggest cock of your life is definitely an adjustment for your tight pussy.

“Take it slow,” he assures you, tightening his grip on your hips to keep you steady as you gently sink down further on his cock.

“I’m good, you’re just so big,” you whimper.

Johnny only chuckles at your words, his eyes fixed on the meeting of your bodies.

“Not sure I can take it all like this,” you admit.

“I’ve heard that when a girl is on top, things feel deeper,” Johnny muses. “Don’t feel like you have to take it all right now, we can work up to that.”

“Okay,” you nod, “I’m going to bounce a bit.”

“Works for me, princess.”

You close your eyes, leaning over him and placing your hands firmly on his chest as an anchor as you begin to move up and down. The feeling of his massive cock against your inner walls has your body singing with pleasure already, and you begin to moan.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “Feels good.”

“So good,” you agree with another whimper.

One of Johnny’s hands moves from your hip to your breast, and he begins to massage the sensitive flesh as you ride him gently. The sensation of him tweaking your nipple has you groaning, your pussy clenching incredibly tight around him, which makes both of you cry out desperately.

“Fuck, let me know when you want me to take over,” Johnny tells you, and you get the sense that you might be killing him a little with the slowness of your pace. His hips twitch, and you suspect that he’s doing everything in his power not to madly thrust up into you, which is something you appreciate greatly.

You ride him for a little while longer, and then you give up, legs burning with effort already. “Okay, okay, you can top now.”

You pull off of his cock, and Johnny helps you roll down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

Instead of just getting on top of you, however, he stays on his side and leans over you, pressing his lips to yours while his hand continues to massage your breast.

You groan against his lips, threading your fingers through his hair desperately as his tongue invades your mouth.

He kisses you until you’re breathless, until your pussy is pulsing with desire, only then does he get between your legs, bringing the head of his cock to your awaiting hole.

“If you ever need me to slow down, or be less rough, or anything, just let me know,” he tells you, swallowing thickly as he gazes at your body.

“Just do it, Johnny,” you assure him, stroking his forearm. “Please.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob with effort again, and he slowly pushes the head of his cock into your wet hole, making you cry out. You grip his arm tighter, closing your eyes to enjoy the stretching sensation.

He sinks into you, inch by inch, gently thrusting to get you used to the intrusion.

When he’s almost fully inside of you, Johnny leans over your body, his elbows making contact with the bed on either side of your head so he can be in something of a plank position overtop of you.

You can feel his breath on your face, and you open your eyes to look up at him, your hand moving to cup his cheek while your legs wrap loosely around his waist.

“You can fuck me now,” you tease, grinning at how slow and gentle he’s been up until this point. “Please.” 

Johnny presses his lips to yours, and just like that, he begins to move.

Each thrust is unbound pleasure, his hips moving fluidly as he gradually increases his pace. His long cock hits deep spots inside of you that have you crying out, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders while your tongues battle for dominance in the most heated kiss of your life.

He’s moaning too, and it sounds so good- making your pussy even wetter as he decimates it perfectly.

You love the feeling of his large body pressing down against your own, his hard muscles are delightful under your touch when you skim your hand along his shoulders.

He’s steadily increasing the power behind each thrust, and now, the bed is beginning to rock with his movements, delighting you even more.

How can this man have so much raw power, but still be so gentle and careful when it matters most?

You might be a little obsessed with him, but as his massive cock hits your g-spot, you suppose it’s no wonder your feelings are growing at a rapid pace.

He has you cock drunk, in a way that you’ve never experienced in the entirety of your life, and you kind of love it.

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, breaking your kiss so he can press his mouth to your throat. “I never- never asked about protection.”

“I’m covered,” you assure him.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “You can cum inside me.”

A deep groan escapes Johnny, and it vibrates through where your chests are pressed together.

“Don’t want to cum like this,” Johnny tells you, “it’s too soon.”

He pulls away, and you whimper when his cock leaves your wet hole. But then Johnny is manhandling you into doggy position, and you let out a moan of pleasure, arching your back and resting your head against the bed.

“You look good like this too,” Johnny muses as he pushes his cock back into you, his hands grabbing your hips roughly. “Always look so good.”

His praise is doing something to you, encouraging you enough to make you begin to move as well, doing your best to match his pace and push back against him with each thrust.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and your moans mingle in the air together.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, railing into you even harder. “So fucking tight-”

“I’m close,” you assure him, “just let me-” you slip your hand between your thighs, fingers seeking out your sensitive clit. The moment you make contact, you feel your pussy contract around Johnny’s cock, and it makes you both moan loudly.

“Yeah, want you to cum with me,” Johnny tells you. “Want us to cum together.”

You don’t respond, too focused on your task as you begin to draw small circles around the sensitive bud.

God, nothing has ever felt this good, to be so completely full, while your clit is receiving attention at the same time-

The tension is quickly building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s clear to both of you that you’re rapidly approaching the edge-

“Here,” Johnny’s voice distracts you, and all of the sudden he’s hauling you onto your knees, pinning your back to his chest with an arm braced across your breasts, one hand cupping your boob like a seatbelt. You can feel his breath on your throat, and you quickly turn your head, seeking out his lips with your own.

His free hand pushes yours aside from your clit, applying even more pressure to your sensitive bud as he fucks into you erratically.

God, you feel him absolutely everywhere. You feel like a doll, suspended in time and space while this absolute unit of a man gives you all of the pleasure you could ever ask for, pulling at your strings like an expert.

He’s groaning more deeply- and with one more rough circle of your clit, you feel yourself come undone. You gasp against his lips, core clamping down on his cock-

A strangled sound escapes Johnny, his thrusts becoming even more erratic as he cums with you, coating your throbbing insides with his cum as you both fall off the edge together.

He’s clinging to you in a way a man has never clung to you, and you’re kissing him as if he’s the air you need to breathe. In this moment, it’s only you and him and this feeling of euphoria that you never want to give up.

He fucks you through your high until you’re both a panting mess, and then, he helps you back onto the bed, taking a deep breath.

“I’m going to go get some tissues,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You can only moan happily, inhaling the scent of pine as you cuddle against his pillow.

Johnny returns shortly, and he hands you some tissues to wipe his cum from your core.

“Should we take another shower or something?” Johnny asks, laughing a little at how messy you both are.

“Cuddles first,” you tell him.

Johnny grins, joining you on his bed, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you. “Cuddles first,” he agrees.

You both take deep breaths, and as your body begins to calm down while pressed against his, you know you made the right choice of man in this fucked up, love island-esque apartment complex that you now call home.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This was way longer than I intended, which is why it took a minute to be posted, but I hope it was worth the wait!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview.  In the summer, Johnny’s not just a blue collar rig man, he’s a dude with friends, tanned skin from his obsession with the sun, and a taste for margaritas while sitting on boats between water skiing stints.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of toys, vibrator, nipple clamps, overstimulation, breast worship, use of lube, inklings of pain kink, hand job, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, etc…   I petnames. (hers) princess

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 100

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

People sometimes talk about a specific summer in their life being ‘the summer of dreams,’ and you never quite understood what could make one stretch of months so significant- but now, living life with Johnny by your side every day, it makes total sense.

In the few months you’ve been dating, he’s done his best to introduce you to friends, but with such a short time in town, it was always difficult to juggle friends, family, and your growing relationship.

Now that it’s summer, you get to see how Johnny is when he’s just being himself.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.8k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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[moonstruckme]

Please oh please may I request tasm!peter using his super strength to impress r? I don’t know if you’ve seen the TikToks from Romeo and Juliet but he is dangling and does a pull up to kiss her and like that vibe of just being a bit of a show off to fluster her

You may! Thank you <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 876 words

“I read something today,” you say, steam trailing behind you as you carry your microwave dinner into the bedroom. 

“Yeah?” Peter doesn’t pause in pulling on his suit. He nearly falls over when his leg gets stuck in the spandex. You’d think after so much practice, he’d be better at it. “That’s great, baby. Big step for you.” 

“Shut up.” You consider chucking a tamale at him, but no, not worth it. “I read a statistic about crime in New York.” 

Now you have Peter’s interest. He cocks his head, the suit hanging from his waist. Not getting distracted by his naked torso never becomes less of a trial for you. 

“Something you think I should know?” 

“Mhm. Did you know most crime here happens between noon and seven pm?” 

“Oh.” He rolls his eyes, putting his arms in their sleeves. “I know where this is going.” 

“It just seems,” you say thoughtfully, “like maybe you could stay here with me tonight. Since, you know, most of the crime is already over.” 

“I have class until six-thirty, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?” 

“Stay home.” You take a bite of your tamale, but it’s hotter than you expected. You chew with unladylike open-mouthed bites, trying to breathe out the steam. “Obviously.” 

Peter grins at your misfortune. You glare, and he makes a face so dopily in love you almost can’t stand it. 

“I have to go,” he says. “Whatever the statistics say, there are still crimes happening, and if I’ve got their schedule figured out those guys will be coming back to try and rob the gyro place again.” 

You swallow your food, frowning. “Damian’s place?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, fuck those guys. Go get ‘em.” 

“I knew you’d get it.” Peter pulls on his mask, backing up towards the window. It’s been opened so frequently it doesn’t even squeak. You shiver at the cold wind it lets in. “Back later.” 

“Be safe,” you say automatically, pulling out your laptop and tapping random keys until it turns on. “Don’t go after guys with guns.” 

“I won’t.” 

You think Peter’s lying, but it’s the sort of white lie you’re okay with being told. You try not to think too hard when he goes out on his patrols; the worry would drive you insane if you did. You can never really fall asleep until you feel that wind come in through the window again, though, his body slipping into bed beside yours. 

You’re just navigating to YouTube when there’s a schwick, and your laptop shuts. You stare at the splatter of webbing on the back side of your screen in silent indignance for a moment before tracing it back to the source. 

“Peter.” Your boyfriend is dangling from the window of your eight-floor apartment by his fingertips. By only one set of fingertips. You know all about his abilities, and still the sight makes your heart shoot up into your throat. “What are you doing?” 

“Aren’t we forgetting something?” 

“What?” 

He attaches his webbing to the windowsill, using that hand to pull off his mask. “Uh, a goodbye kiss?” 

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard not to look smitten when the thing your boyfriend is sternest about is romance. You get up and follow the line of his web to the window. 

“You’re going to clean this stuff off my laptop when you get back,” you say, tone softening with fondness as he looks up at you. 

“It’ll dissolve,” he replies. “C’mere.” 

You bend, and Peter meets you halfway, muscled arms shifting underneath the tight material of his suit as he pulls himself upward. His lips are warm. The ends of his hair shift in the wind, tickling your forehead. You have to stop yourself from leaning all the way out the window to follow him when he pulls away. 

“Mm.” He licks his lips. “Save me some of those tamales, please.” 

“Do not tell me that I taste like bean and masa,” you plead. 

Peter grins. “No, I’m just teasing. You taste like you. Which is to say…” He pulls upward again, finding you just where he left you. “...very good.” 

Your lips curve against his, staying even after the kiss. “Flirt.” 

“Maybe.” He lets himself drop down below you, knuckles to his chin. It’s odd seeing him like this, so at ease with the city whizzing about nearly a hundred feet below him. 

You bite your lip, and his eyes drop to the motion. 

“Okay,” he says. “One more.” 

You grin. “Now you’re just showing off.” 

Peter makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you know he’s well aware of the impressive flex of his biceps and forearms as he lifts himself upward for one last kiss. You make it a good one, soft and lingering. 

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you repeat his answer to your flirting accusation. But when you look at him again, your voice drops into a more genuine register. “Hey. Be safe tonight, seriously.”  

Peter’s eyes go soft. “I will. I’ll see you later, pretty girl.” He winks before pulling the mask on. “Keep the bed warm for me.” 

“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m putting an ice cube on your pillow.” 

His laughter echoes in the room after he’s gone. 

[sosa2imagines]

Justice!

Warning- Pure fluff, dad Bucky is back!

You had only been gone for an hour. An hour. And yet, Bucky was certain this had been the longest sixty minutes of his life.  

Samuel, their chubby little boy, had been a force of nature from the moment you left. He was fast, too fast for someone who could barely crawl. Every time Bucky sat down, Samuel was off again, his little diapered bottom wiggling as he made his way across the living room floor.  

Bucky had just managed to sit down, sighing in relief, when Samuel appeared in front of him. The baby paused, giving his father a wide, toothless grin before resuming his journey, his diaper rustling as he crawled toward the couch.  

But then, Bucky made the mistake of blinking.  

The next thing he heard was a tiny, pitiful whimper. His heart stopped for a second, and he shot up from his seat, eyes scanning the room.  

“Sammy?”  

And then he saw him.  

Somehow, some way, Samuel had managed to wedge himself between the couch and the wall. His tiny hands pawed at the air, his lower lip wobbling, big teary eyes looking up at Bucky with utter betrayal. The moment their eyes met, Samuel made grabby hands, whimpering louder.  

Bucky was already there, scooping his son into his arms, rubbing his little back. “Hey…hey, I gotcha, buddy. You're okay, you’re safe.”  

Samuel sniffled against his father’s shoulder, then suddenly after few seconds, stiffened.

With an angry pout, he turned his head and pointed furiously at the couch, his chubby finger shaking with righteous indignation.  

Bucky blinked, totally confused, “Uh… what?”  

Samuel huffed and blew a raspberry against Bucky’s cheek, then for good measure, wiped his snot on his father’s shoulder.  

Bucky sighed, shaking his head, “Yeah, okay. I deserved that.”  

Samuel pointed again, demanding justice.  

Bucky followed his finger, realization dawning. “You want me to scold the couch?”  

Samuel nodded, more like wobbled a bit but it counts as a nod.  

Bucky sighed, then turned to the inanimate offender. “Bad couch. Bad. How dare you eat my son? No one scares my boy!” He gave it a small kick for good measure.  

Samuel beamed, his tears forgotten. He clapped his hands, babbling in delight.

Justice had been served.  

Just then, there was a knock at the door, followed by a familiar voice. “Buck? You home?”  

Samuel’s entire body tensed on happiness. He turned his head and let out an excited squeal, his tiny hands flailing.  

Uncle Steve was here.  

Bucky opened the door, and Steve barely had time to step inside before Samuel was reaching for him, babbling excitedly. Steve grinned and took his godson into his arms. “Hey, buddy! How’s my favorite little guy doing?”  

Samuel, however, had more important matters to discuss. He turned, chubby finger once again pointing at the couch, his face serious.  

Steve glanced at Bucky, confused, “Uh… what’s going on?”  

Bucky was already laughing. “Oh, Sammy got stuck behind the couch. I scolded it, but I think he wants justice from you too.”  

Steve, ever the protective godfather, turned to the couch, his expression darkening. “You did what to my godson?”  

Samuel nodded dramatically.  

Steve took a step forward, holding Samuel securely, “I oughta flip you over for that.”  

Then, for good measure, he kicked the couch, not too hard, but enough to make a statement.  

Samuel erupted into happy giggles, clapping his hands in victory.  

Steve turned back to Bucky, smirking. “That good enough?”  

Bucky, still chuckling, nodded. “Oh yeah. Couch is officially an enemy now.”  

Samuel, still in Steve’s arms, let out a satisfied sigh, resting his head against his godfather’s shoulder.

Justice had been served, delightfully.  

And the couch would never be trusted again.  

By the time you got home, the apartment was oddly quiet.  

Too quiet.  

Which, considering you had left your husband alone with your crawling tornado of a baby, was either a very good thing… or a very, very bad thing.  

Kicking off your shoes, you stepped into the living room, only to find Bucky and Steve sitting on the floor, Samuel curled up in Bucky’s arms, half-asleep with a content little sigh.  

Your heart melted at the sight. “Aww, did my baby boy wear you two out?”  

Bucky looked up at you, a smug smile on his face. “Oh, you have no idea.”  

You walked over and sat beside him, reaching out to brush a hand over Samuel’s soft curls. “What happened?”  

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, your son had a run-in with the couch.”  

Your brows furrowed. “The couch?”  

Bucky nodded, face completely serious. “It tried to eat him.”  

You blinked, “I…what?”  

Samuel, barely awake, lifted his head just enough to point at the offending piece of furniture. Even half-asleep, he still looked determined.  

Bucky nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry. We took care of it.”  

Steve leaned in conspiratorially. “We scolded it. I kicked it.”  

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. “You kicked… our couch?”  

Bucky grinned. “Had to. Sammy demanded justice.”  

Steve nodded in agreement. “It was the only way.”  

You glanced between the two of them, then down at your son, who looked so incredibly pleased with himself, before shaking your head with a laugh. “You two are ridiculous.”  

Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Maybe. But look at him.”  

You did. And your heart ached with love at the sight of your baby, safe and happy in his father’s arms.  

Bucky pressed a kiss to Samuel’s forehead, then rested his chin on top of his son’s head, his voice softer now. “Y’know… I spent so long fighting alone. Protecting myself, looking over my shoulder, making sure I was the only one who had to take the hits...” He glanced at Steve, then back at you. “But now… I don’t have to do it alone anymore. Even if the enemy is just a couch.”  

You leaned into him, kissing his cheek. “No, you don’t.”  

Steve clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “We’ve got your back, Buck. Always.”  

Samuel let out a tiny, sleepy sigh, burrowing further into his dad’s chest. Bucky smiled, his heart full.  

Yeah. He wasn’t alone anymore.  

And the couch? It had been defeated.  

Justice had been served.  

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[travelingmaster-inspirations]

I blinked a few times as I felt myself 'wake up' and come back to the present.

The feeling was incredibly familiar and a quick look at my phone confirmed what I already knew. My texting app was opened and the last thing I sent into the conversation was a selfie I didn't remember taking. Considering the fact that I was relaxing on my balcony, I was glad that the compelled selfie I took of myself was so tame because really, it could have been MUCH more embarrassing.

That in itself was a little out of character so I decided to scroll up and smiled when I noticed that there were 3 more pictures I didn't remember sending him. All were from earlier in the day and just like the last one I sent, I had no memory of taking or sending them. I hadn't 'woken up' after I took them so I was completely oblivious to the fact that I had sent him a few nude pictures of myself as I got ready before breakfast.

Looking at my expressionless face, I couldn't help but still be fascinated with my impossible situation. I mean... With the exception of a few very strict rules, I'm mostly free to live my life as if my hypnotic subjugation had never happened. So far, I've kept my job and still see my friends on a regular basis, yet, I'm well aware that I'm only allowed all those things so the people around me don't catch on that, for the last few months, I've been my Master's helpless thrall.

I never even dreamed that something like this was even possible and thinking back on it now, it's probably why I felt no reservations when Master first approached me and asked if it was ok if he tried to hypnotize me. I remember thinking that he wasn't cute enough to warrant my attention, but since the evening hadn't turned out as fun as I had hoped, I decided to humor him thinking that if I played my cards right I would, at the very least, be able to squeeze out a few free drinks out of it.

I was fully committed to 'playing along' and listened intently to his words, however, I wasn't expecting his induction to actually work. The next thing I knew, the party was over and most of my friends were already gone because apparently, I had told them all not to wait for me. The notion that I had somehow lost a part of my evening didn't even register as an overwhelming need to leave the party washed over me. As I disappeared into the cool night air, I figured my evening fun was over so I made my way home. Only, once I was safely inside and I turned to walk into my living room, I found myself utterly confused because I wasn't at all inside my home.

My confusion didn't last for too long once I turned and noticed the man standing next to me. Suddenly, I remembered that I had agreed to go home with him and as I did, a powerful wave of arousal invaded every cell of my body. It didn't matter to me that I hadn't gone to the party to find myself a man to bed, all I cared about was that I wanted HIM with every carnal fiber of my body. After our first fevered kiss, my evening quickly became a blur of pleasure and blackouts. Of course at the time, I believed that my blackouts were a side effect of the intense orgasms he gave me. However, the reality I learned later on was that those pieces of missing time were actually trances.

When I left his place the next morning, all I knew was that I had an incredibly fun night with a quirky guy that fancied himself a hypnotist. I had no clue whatsoever that he had used every spare moment to drop me so he could repeatedly implant a special set of words that would place me right back into a deep obedient trance. But then again, even if I had been aware that he tranced me during our evening together, I would probably not even have been worried about it because I had no clue whatsoever that hypnosis could implant such long-lasting suggestions and triggers. 

Because you see, at the time, I still thought hypnosis was just a clever party trick with willing conspirators. With everything that has happened since then however, I'm well aware that hypnosis, when skillfully applied to a naive suggestible mind like mine, can completely re-write someone's mental landscape.

I'm not sure how many times he called to trance me, but by the time I found myself going back to his place, I was already calling him Master without realizing it. I remember feeling a little disappointed when he proposed to trance me instead of just enjoying ourselves, but since I was already feeling rather compliant, I didn't protest and played along as he 'officially' hypnotized me again.

I was much less disappointed when I woke up from that deep trance with one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever experienced. He didn't let me enjoy it as much as I wished though because he sank me right back into trance before I could fully savor the aftermath of my pleasure. He repeated that process again and again as he pushed my mind back and forth between the heights of pleasure and the depths of trance. Even if it was unbearably confusing, I dove into the experience without realizing that it was actually a hypnosis technique that was meant to bring me deeper than I had gone before.

I was so out of it that it took me a long while to realize that the trance part of our evening was over and that the pleasure I was feeling wasn't due to his hypnotic play, but the powerful thrust of his cock as he fucked me back to reality. I was such an erotic confused mess that I completely submitted to whatever he wanted. He changed our position multiple times and I was just along for the ride. Heck, I didn't even complain when he decided to end our romp by having me suck him off even though I hated doing that with my lovers.

I just felt so utterly compliant and grateful that I wanted to do anything I could to return the favor. I've sucked his cock many times since then, but none of those times quite comes close to the euphoria I felt when he finally came in my mouth. In some strange way, even the pleasure I feel when we fuck isn't as profound as what I felt when I went down on him that first time.

My mind was so out of it that I didn't even consider the fact that I had never experienced such pleasures when I blew my lovers. It just... Didn't occur to me that he could use hypnosis in a way that would make the act of fellating him mildly addictive.

I left his place completely hooked on the pleasure I experienced so I went to him again and again. We continued to play with my mind in ways I couldn't understand, but deeply enjoyed. All the while, I unknowingly dove deeper into my submissiveness towards him as I found myself with a growing need to cater to his every desire.

Even when his increasingly specific desires included collars and slave-like role play, I didn't think anything of it and gave myself to the experience so I could somehow repay him for all the wonders he was showing me.

What finally tipped me off that it wasn't all role play was when I woke up from a particularly deep trance to find myself sitting at my kitchen table. It was disorienting to say the least, but what made it even more confusing was the piece of paper laid out in front of me. Before I could even look around to see where he was, I felt compelled to read its contents aloud. I was still somewhat dazed from the trance, so I didn't really care how or why I was doing it, however, as I finally understood the words I was speaking, I realized with a certain amount of shock that it was a list of rules.

MY rules...

For a confusing moment, I wondered if this wasn't just another part of his elaborate role play, but as I read each rule, I slowly realized that they were anything BUT role play. Some of the rules were clearly meant to be applied when I was with him, but a lot of them had no connection to our playtime at all and were clearly implied that he was claiming me as his true slave.

I was shocked that he assumed he could exert so much control over my daily life, but even so, with each rule I read, I felt my excitement and arousal grow at the thought of it. In fact, it grew so much that I could barely bring myself to read the last rule out loud without openly moaning. When I finally managed, I couldn't hold back anymore and came hard when I felt compelled to add that I would obey every single one of them.

Coming back down from that impossible release was like waking up from a dream. It was like I could finally truly see him for the first time. I watched him through seemingly new eyes as he confidently wrapped a collar around my neck and declared that I was his. That he owned me...

There was no spike of denial...

No troubled or worried thoughts...

All I felt in that moment of strange clarity was pleasure as I embraced the fact that our kinky role play had evolved into something very real. Every trance and command felt somehow different and more potent after that special evening. It’s like that list of rules had somehow erased the last traces of denial or resistance or whatever made me doubt the control he truly had over me. For example, he had wrapped a collar around my neck before, but when he did so after I came that night, I finally became aware of everything it meant.

I belonged to him… Mind, body and soul…

That’s become the first thought I have when I wake up in the morning and the last one to cradle me to sleep at night. There’s nothing I can do to change that simple fact, but then again, it’s definitely not something I WANT to change either.

I’m completely content to be his property and serve his every desire whenever he visits or compels me to go to him. I mean… It’s not like I have a choice either way, but I’ve found that it excites me to no end to know that with a few simple words or a snap of his fingers, he can send my mind away in it’s own little blissed out world while he implants new compulsions and triggers that I’ll obey as surely as if I was a computer executing a line of program.

Like right now…

I know he’s just tranced me and I can feel that he’s probably left instructions in my subconscious because I can feel this growing sense of unease as I calmly bask in the afternoon sun.

Does it mean he’s about to visit me?

Does it mean I’m about to go blank and walk myself to his apartment?

Or maybe it means that I’m about to do something else his creative kinky mind wants me to do in the confines of my apartment…

I’ll have no way to know exactly what he instructed me to do until I actually do. Well… To be more precise… I won’t know until he lets me remember!

If he ever does…

Regardless of what it might be, whenever he plays with me I get impossibly turned on and I can’t wait to feel all the rewards my enthrallment to him brings me…

[pedroscowgirl]

Dress

Professor!joel x college student fem!reader

Warnings SMUT! MINORS DNI! (Part 3 of my 'guilty as sin' series) MAIN masterlist Part. 1 ; Part 2

no!outbreak joel, big age gap(reader is 20 something), power imbalance (prof x student), joel is CHEATING on his wife, mentions of smoking & alcohol, spanking, teasing, oral job (m receiving), p in v (wrap it up), public sex, throat grabbing (idk), lmk if i forgot something!

Summary: Joel is getting a bit distant and you don't really know why till you run into him on your date with someone else and see him with his wife wc: 3.1k

A/n: Sorry the end is so foul but i couldn't leave it out. I hope you like this and the rest of the series :)) lmk if u want me to tag you in the next part. These pictures don't belong to me!

You and Professor Miller had been sneaking around for a while now. At first, it had been thrilling, the stolen moments, the risk, the way his hands would grip your hips like he couldn’t get enough. But something had shifted. Lately, he’d been distant, distracted. He didn’t reach for you as often, didn’t meet your eyes with that same burning intensity. And worst of all, he didn’t fuck you anymore.

You tried not to let it bother you, but the ache in your chest told you otherwise. You were used to being wanted, to being craved. So when a guy from your class—someone you’d talked to here and there—asked you out, you agreed without hesitation. If Joel wasn’t giving you attention, you’d find it elsewhere.

The evening of your date arrived, and you made sure you looked irresistible. A black dress that clung to your figure, lace teasing at the hem, makeup accentuating every sultry feature. You admired yourself in the mirror and smirked. If only Joel could see you now.

The restaurant was upscale, bathed in dim lighting that cast a sensual glow over everything. Your date led you inside, his hand warm on the small of your back. As you slipped off your jacket, revealing the way the dress hugged your body, you felt eyes on you.

And then you saw him.

Joel.

He was standing near the entrance, just taking off a woman’s jacket. His wife, you assumed. The woman he went home to at night. He smiled at her, and for the first time, the reality of her presence hit you like a wave crashing over jagged rocks. She wasn’t just some vague notion, some name spoken in hushed tones. She was real. And he looked at her with a softness you hadn’t seen in weeks.

Your stomach twisted. Before you could turn away, before you could gather yourself and push through the sudden tightness in your chest, his gaze snapped to you.

His smile faltered. His expression shifted from contentment to shock. His eyes darkened, flickering over your body, your dress, your date.

One second.

That’s all it was.

One second of locked eyes before your date grabbed your hand, pulling you toward your table. And just like that, the moment was over.

But the damage had already been done.

You felt his gaze on you even as you sat down, even as you tried to focus on your date’s words. The conversation felt distant, muffled, like you were underwater. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way Joel had looked at you—equal parts shock and something else. Something darker.

Your date leaned forward, smiling. “You look amazing tonight.”

You forced a smile, taking a sip of your wine. “Thank you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joel sitting across the restaurant, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched. He wasn’t touching his wife as he had before. In fact, he barely seemed present at all. His fingers tapped idly against the table, his eyes flickering in your direction more often than they should have.

Your date continued talking, oblivious, but your mind was elsewhere. You wondered what Joel was thinking. If he was regretting his distance. If he was feeling the same burn in his chest that you were. You wanted to make him squirm.

Leaning forward, you rested your hand on your date’s arm, laughing at something he said. It was a calculated move, and when you risked another glance at Joel, you knew it had worked. His grip tightened around his glass, his knuckles white. His wife said something to him, but he barely reacted.

You smirked, turning back to your date, pretending nothing was wrong. But the tension in the air was thick, suffocating.

Minutes passed, and the glances between you and Joel only grew more frequent, more heated. You played with the stem of your wine glass, running your fingers over it slowly, deliberately. His eyes followed the movement. You shifted in your seat, crossing your legs in a way that made the hem of your dress ride up just a little higher. His jaw tensed.

Your date touched your hand lightly. “You okay?”

You blinked, pulling yourself back into the moment. “Yeah, of course.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “You just seem a little distracted.”

You hummed, glancing past him to where Joel sat. His wife was speaking, but his attention was elsewhere. You. His fingers were curled around his glass so tightly you thought it might shatter. You took another slow sip of wine, letting your tongue dart out to catch a stray drop on your lips.

Joel’s expression darkened. He shifted in his seat, exhaling slowly, deliberately, like he was trying to steady himself. You felt something warm rush through you at the realization—you still had that effect on him. Even now. Even here.

Then, as if making a decision, he pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly, murmuring something to his wife before walking out of the restaurant.

You hesitated for a moment, your pulse quickening. What was he doing? Without thinking too hard, you excused yourself from your date, waiting a few minutes so it wouldn’t look suspicious, then grabbed your jacket and stepped outside.

There he was, standing just beyond the glow of the restaurant’s entrance, his broad frame tense against the cool night air. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a loose black dress shirt that clung to his body in all the right ways. Your mouth watered.

“I never took you for a smoker,” you teased.

He stiffened, immediately recognizing your voice. Turning around slowly, his eyes met yours, filled with something unreadable. He sighed, exhaling smoke. “Ain’t one. Just do it when I’m stressed out.”

“First date?” you joked.

He chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “She’s my wife. It’s our anniversary today....”

That hit you in a way you weren’t expecting. Suddenly, his recent distance made perfect sense.

“And you?” His gaze flickered over your dress, his jaw tightening. “Goin’ for younger guys now?”

You smirked, stepping closer. “You know I could never do that, Joel. He’s sweet, but I like ‘em a little more... ripe.”

Your fingers brushed his bicep, and he tensed under your touch. “Darlin’... please, not here.”

You pouted. “Don’t give me that look.”

Your fingers drifted lower, toying with his belt, dangerously close to his crotch. His breath hitched.

“Don’t make me sad, daddy,” you purred, pressing just a little closer. “That college boy won’t treat me the way you do. And you wouldn’t want me to feel bad, would you?”

Your fingers fumbled with his belt, the leather slipping through your hands as you worked to undo the clasp. But before you could finish, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly. “Fuck, babygirl,” he hissed, his voice low and strained. “Not out here in the open like this.”

Before you could protest, he yanked you to the side of the restaurant, where no one could see you. The brick wall was cold against your back, but his body was a hot as he pressed into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. You moaned into his mouth, your hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders, but he pulled back just enough to let you breathe.

You pushed him away slightly, your knees hitting the pavement as you crouched in front of him. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants, tugging them down just enough to reveal the hard outline of his cock straining against his boxers. You bit your lip, glancing up at him through your lashes, and his hand came to rest on the top of your head, his fingers threading through your hair. He nodded, a silent permission, and you didn’t waste another second.

You pulled him free, his length springing against his stomach, and your mouth watered at the sight. You spit into your hand, slicking him up before leaning in to drag your tongue slowly along the tip.

His fingers tightened in your hair as you took him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length, teasing every sensitive spot you knew drove him wild. He groaned, low and guttural, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to keep himself still. “Fuck, babygirl,” he muttered, his voice strained. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, lips glistening, and smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He let out a shaky laugh, his hand brushing your cheek before sliding back into your hair. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer, just leaned back in, taking him into your mouth again, this time slower, more deliberate. His breath hitched, and you felt his thighs tense under your hands. The taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue—it was intoxicating. You could feel him fighting to keep quiet, his teeth gritted as he tried to stifle the sounds threatening to escape.

But you weren’t going to let him off that easy.

You pulled back again, dragging your lips along his length, and spit on him, watching as your saliva mixed with the slickness already there. His hand tightened in your hair, and he let out a low growl. “Tease,” he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice.

You smiled up at him, all innocence and mischief, before taking him into your mouth again, this time swallowing him whole. His hips jerked forward, and he cursed under his breath, his fingers tangling in your hair as he struggled to keep himself under control.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re too good at this.”

You hummed around him, the vibration drawing another groan from his lips. His grip on your hair tightened, and you could feel him getting closer, his breathing becoming more ragged, his hips moving with a little less restraint.

And then, just as he was about to tip over the edge, you pulled back, leaving him throbbing and desperate.

“Babygirl—” His voice was a warning, but you just smiled up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“What’s the matter, Professor?” you teased, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “Can’t handle a little teasing?”

He let out a low growl, his eyes dark with need. “You’re playin’ with fire, darlin’.”

You shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe I like getting burned.”

Before you could say anything else, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up to your feet, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall. His body pressed against yours, hard and unyielding, and you could feel the heat of him through your clothes.

“You wanna play games?” he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fine. But don’t come cryin’ to me when you can’t handle the consequences.”

He lifted your black dress to your waist, his breath hitching as his eyes raked over the sight of your black lace panties. “Fuck, babygirl,” he growled, his voice thick with desire and possessiveness. “You were really gonna let him have you? You naughty girl… You know you only belong to me.”

Before you could respond, his hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. “N-no,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you tried to explain. “I just didn’t have any other underwear that would fit with this dress—”

He smacked you again, the sound echoing in the alley, but this time his hand lingered, rubbing the sting away in a way that was almost soothing. His other hand slid to the front of your panties, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric. “Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You’re so wet already. Fuck, babygirl, you’ve been thinkin’ about this all night, haven’t you?”

You didn’t answer, your face pressed against the cold brick wall, but your body betrayed you as his finger slipped beneath the lace, sliding into you with ease. You gasped, your hips jerking forward instinctively, and he chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “That’s it,” he murmured, his finger moving in slow, deliberate strokes. “Let me hear you, darlin’.”

Your thighs trembled, your nails scraping against the rough surface of the wall as you tried to steady yourself. “J-Joel,” you managed to choke out, your voice weak. “We need to hurry… They’ll get suspicious.”

The reminder of the people waiting for you—his wife, your date—hung in the air like a storm cloud, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Then beg for it, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

You hesitated, your pride warring with the ache between your legs, but his finger curled inside you, hitting that spot that made your knees buckle. “Please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking. “Please, just… put your dick in me. I need it. Please.”

“Good girl,” he purred, his voice dripping with approval. In one swift motion, he ripped your panties off, the sound of tearing fabric making you yelp. His hand clamped over your mouth before the sound could escape, his grip firm but not painful.

“Hey!” you protested when he finally removed his hand, your voice a mix of anger and arousal. “Those were my favorites!”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thought you said you only wore ‘em ‘cause you didn’t have anything else?”

Before you could protest, he shoved into you, hard and unrelenting, the stretch making you cry out. His hand returned to your mouth, muffling your sounds as he set a brutal pace, his hips slamming against yours with enough force to make your thighs shake.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he drove into you again and again. “You feel so goddamn good, babygirl. Always so tight for me.”

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, your release crashing over you like a wave. He followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, his groan muffled against your skin.

For a moment, the only sound was your ragged breathing, the alley silent except for the distant hum of the restaurant. Then he pulled out, turning you around to face him. His fingers dipped between your legs, collecting the mess of your combined release, and he held them up to your lips.

“Suck,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

You hesitated for only a second before obeying, your tongue darting out to clean his fingers. The taste of him—of you—was intoxicating, and you licked your lips when you were done, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

But before you could say anything, his hand shot out, gripping your throat gently but firmly. He pulled you into a kiss that was all teeth and desperation, his tongue claiming your mouth as if he could erase the taste of anyone else who might’ve been there.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your legs weak and your mind hazy. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered, “You’re mine, babygirl. Don’t you ever forget that.”

The cool night air did little to calm the heat still lingering on your skin as you adjusted your dress, the fabric clinging awkwardly without the support of your now-ruined panties. Joel straightened his shirt, his movements sharp and deliberate, though his breathing was still uneven. He glanced at you, his eyes dark and unreadable, before nodding toward the restaurant.

“Go first,” he muttered, his voice low. “I’ll follow in a minute.”

You hesitated, your legs still shaky, but you didn’t argue. Slipping back into the restaurant, you forced a smile as you approached your table. Your date looked up, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice warm but tinged with suspicion.

“Yeah,” you lied smoothly, sliding into your seat. “Just needed some air.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, and launched back into the story he’d been telling before you excused yourself. You tried to focus, nodding along, but your attention kept drifting to the entrance.

A moment later, Joel walked in, his posture relaxed, his face a mask of calm. He made his way to his table, where his wife sat, her smile bright as she looked up at him.

“There you are,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me.”

Joel chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. Your stomach twisted as you watched his lips meet hers, the same lips that had just been on your skin, tasting you. Your mouth fell open slightly, the memory of his fingers, his tongue, his claim on you still fresh in your mind.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth as he sat down. “Just needed a smoke.”

His wife smiled, oblivious, and reached for her wine glass. You forced yourself to look away, but your mind was racing. The taste of him—of both of you—was still on his lips, and she had no idea. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of guilt and something darker, something you didn’t want to name.

Your date reached for your hand, his touch pulling you back to the present. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “You seem… distracted.”

You forced a smile, squeezing his hand. “I’m fine,” you said, though the words felt hollow. “Just… a lot on my mind.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the conversation at your table fading into background noise as your thoughts spiraled. You could still feel him, his hands, his mouth, the way he’d claimed you in the alley. And now, sitting just a few tables away, he was playing the perfect husband, his wife none the wiser.

When the check finally came, you were relieved. Your date insisted on walking you to your car, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. As you stepped outside, the cool air hit you like a slap, and you took a deep breath, trying to clear your head.

“I had a great time,” your date said, his smile genuine as he leaned in to kiss you.

You hesitated for just a moment before letting him, the kiss soft and sweet—nothing like the bruising intensity of Joel’s. When he pulled back, you forced another smile.

“Me too,” you said, though the words felt like a lie.

As you drove home, your mind kept drifting back to the alley, to the way Joel had looked at you, to the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. 

Taglist for this series: @morganlolitta @elliesr1fle

[guppybibi]

This is How Love Goes 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡

content: self indulgent, fluff, probably ooc, they're weird but i uhh yea, not proofread

notes: i uh yes,,,this is basically me taking a huge breath.

~~~~~~~~~

Soap MacTavish loves to pull lighthearted pranks on you.

Sure, it was annoying at first. Who knows? Maybe it is until now. But when Johnny fills your desk up with sticky notes full of loving and motivational words like "You got this, bonnie." and all that stuff, you really can't complain about it.

And he notes all of your reactions down, to see which of the pranks he can repeat and which one goes into no no territory. He's an annoying guy, but in the end, he's yours.

Simon Riley will let you do (almost) anything to his weapons collection.

Okay, it sounds just a little bit silly. And I also know this isn't an original idea BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH. He lets you decorate them, putting stickers on it, tying it up with ribbons, painting it if you can. You name it. As long as the weapon is still functional, he'll let you do anything to it.

Also the same thing with his masks, you guys have matching ones. It won't happen unless you bring it up though. Mainly because he doesn't want to extend that part of him to you. Ghost is simply an extension of who Simon is, and he doesn't want to connect Ghost with you if you don't want to.

Kyle Garrick has a lot of weird ones, but thinking of you during the most random tasks has to be up there.

The way he phrases it really, because how are you supposed to react when you open your phone to Kyle messaging you: "Hey, I'm shampooing my hair right now and I'm thinking of you, because I think you'd make a great shampoo scent."

He also leaves you little gifts scattered around your shared home, except Kyle is a teaser. So you aren't surprised when you find a note saying "I found you!" with a Dum Dum or Nerds stuck onto it.

John Price loves tickling you.

Maybe it's an excuse to touch you, or be close to you. Maybe even to hear you laugh, all John knows is that he can't help it. Obviously he won't do it when you clearly don't want it, but the laugh you let out is so adorable that he's unable to contain himself.

Sometimes he uses his beard to tickle you too, first of all, ouch. But whatever he wants I guess.

[victoryai]

SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS #1

©Victoryai

"Hey everyone! To make it easier for you to keep track of my solar return observations, I'll be adding a numbered hashtag to each post from now on. You'll see #SolarReturnObs1, #SolarReturnObs2, and so on. This way, you can quickly see which ones you've read and which ones are new!"🤩.

Let's ride......🚗🚘

🤳Uranus in 7th house: Literally meeting alot of people online and having quite a number of friends (mostly online too). People just send you a message out of no where.

🤳 Chiron in 5th house: Unhappiness 😭. You don't feel like you're living life the way you supposed to . You want the fun but youre not getting it.

🤳If you're a student and mars/Saturn shows up for a new Sr year, be very careful (I mean extra careful) with anything that concerns your college or university. Try everything you can to avoid the destructive energy of this planets 😎

🤳 Uranus in 9th house: An unexpected opportunity for education eg scholarship

🤳Mars +Moon in 1st house : Passive agressive anger 🤬. Very draining and exhausting.

🤳 Scorpio ascendant:My face just became really rough for no reason. Pimples on my face😭

🤳Sun in 10th house+ Uranus in 4th house: Leaving home for work.

🤳 Capricorn ascendant: People just be complimenting you, noticing you more often, giving you goods on discount cause you look like a big guy!

🤳Sun in 5th house: Starting school 🎒

🤳Cancer ascendant: Why dat kid become so quiet all of a sudden🤨

🤳I never understood why they associate the 11th house with elder siblings but the year I first became an elder sibling, I had a stellium there 🤔

🤳 Saturn in 1st house: Double up for responsibilities, Make sure you complete all your tasks at work

🤳Venus in 7th house: For some reason, you can't really get this year out of your head and all the good memories it brought you😆.

🤳If you send an ask! hold on I'll def reply you !! 😭💕

[softspokendove]

A Second High

Boyfriend!Thanos x Female!reader

Your boyfriend comes home from getting high with his friends, the only thing on his mind is you and making you feel good.

—

You expected your boyfriend to be home late, but not this late. It was one of his usual nights of going out with his friends doing god knows what, rap battles, trashing cars and random stores, getting himself in trouble and having to send you a late night call from a jail cell. You’ve gotten pretty tired of asking what he was going to do and when he’d be back, you just knew to always have your phone on you and to finally enjoy your peace and quiet.

It was surprising to find out the longer you dated him the more clingy he’d let himself get around you. Everywhere you’d look he’d always be near you in some sort of way. When you’d let him he’d always have his hands on you, just a simple touch of his hand on your thigh calmed him. What surprised you even more was how he was beginning to prefer being with you to his friends.

He used to be so excited to go out and get high, just doing about anything he wanted. But now whenever his friends would text him he’d ignore it or make some kind of excuse. You brought it up one time, asking him why he hasn’t seen them in a while, all he did was shrug and continue toying with your hair. His friends started to pick up on it and were getting annoyed. This time they came over instead of texting and practically dragged him out of the house to come hang out.

Here you were laying in bed, tiredness being long forgotten as your mind runs with worried thoughts about Thanos. You know he can take care of himself and he’s always been fine all the other times they used to hang out; maybe his clinginess is rubbing off on you. As you roll over for the 10th time your heart jumps as you hear a key being put inside the front doors lock. A huge sigh of relief flowing out of you at the sound of your boyfriend’s feet stumbling through the living room.

“Baby?”

You go to reply back but see him walking into your shared bedroom, his face lighting up at the sight of you. “Hey baby, were you sleeping?”

You shake your head, “no, I can’t fall asleep.”

He puts a small frown on his face at your words. “You need some help?” Thanos didn’t need you to answer as he already starts climbing into bed and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging your body towards his. He shoves his face into your hair and inhales your smell, letting out a little hum.

Your curiousness gets the best of you, “so what did you guys do?”

He brushes your hair out of your face and tilts your head so you can look at him better, “the boys tried getting me to rap battle this one guy.” He shakes his head and fiddles with the strap of your tank top, “I wasn’t up for it, so we just smoked and hung out.”

You give him a little smile as you cup his cheek, he leans into the simple touch. “I wanted to come home hours ago, they took my car keys.” He leans down and plants a gentle kiss on your lips, “I missed you.”

You return the kiss, “I missed you too.”

“No, like I really missed you.”

He doesn’t let you move away from him and pulls you closer. His lips returning to yours but making the kiss last longer than the one before. A little noise creeps up his throat and hits your ears. His hand moves down towards your waist and pulls it towards him.

The need for oxygen becomes too much, you try to pull away but instead earn a whine from Thanos as he continues to follow your lips. “Baby I need to breathe.” He reluctantly obliges and kisses down your chin to your neck, sucking the skin around your pulse. You let out a small sigh at the sensation and lean your head back to give him more room. He pushes you backwards on the bed and hovers above you as he continues to attack your neck.

His hands slip under your top and roam around your stomach and sides. The little noises you let escape your mouth encourages him further as he sucks harder, starting to leave bruises on multiple parts of your neck. When he goes more down towards your collar bone you let your fingers tangle through his hair and give a small tug earning a deep groan from him.

He uses his teeth to pull your tank top down to let your boobs free, his mouth immediately attaching to one of your nipples, his left hand toying with the other one doing the same motions that he does with his tongue. “Mm Thanos.” He moans in response to his name sounding so good and whiny coming out of you.

When he feels you starting to squirm and get impatient he lets go of your boobs. He slowly lowers his body down to where you need him, leaving kisses on your body in his way. As he reaches your panties he gives them a kiss, his lips hitting your clit through the fabric causing your breath to hitch.

“I missed you so much princesa.”

His fingers curl around the straps of your panties and start slowly sliding them down your legs, he throws the material somewhere in the room. Your cunt being in perfect display for him.

“You look so pretty, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Before Thanos could stop himself he starts kissing your cunt as he would kiss you. His tongue peaking out through his lips and hitting your clit just right. Your fingers give his hair another tug as you try to lift your hips up towards his face, seeking more attention. Thanos smiles at your neediness and gives you what you want, the only thoughts running through his mind are to make you feel good.

He parts his lips and licks strips up and down your cunt collecting all your juices. He sucks your clit into his mouth and uses his tongue to run patterns on it. After a few moments he lets your bundle of nerves go and sticks his tongue inside of you, getting a full taste of just how sweet you are.

He groans, “Fuck baby you taste so good.” His tongue goes as deep as it can inside of you as Thanos tries to get everything he can of you.

When he comes back up he goes to give the same attention to your clit as before, but this time he pushes a finger inside of you so your walls have something to clamp down on. Your cunt spasms around his finger, you feel yourself getting to your brink but you just need more.

“More please.”

Thanos hums at your begging and gives you another one of his fingers. Your walls stretch around two of his digits as he increases the pace of his tongue on your clit. His other hand moves up towards your chest and starts toying with your nipples, the pleasure mixing with your lower pleasure. The tightness in your stomach starts to get stronger as your cunt starts pulsing in his mouth.

“There you go sweetheart, cum for me.”

Your noises get louder the closer you get to your release. You subconsciously push his head deeper into you as your other hand grips the bed sheets. You feel his tongue tracing letters on your clit.

T

H

A

N

O

S

And again on repeat.

This brings you to your edge. You let out a high pitch moan as your cunt gushes around Thanos’s fingers and into his mouth. He lets go of your clit so you don’t get too sensitive and moves back down to lick up the remainder juices.

He moves back up your body when he’s satisfied and pushes his two fingers inside of your mouth, letting you get a taste of yourself. “See how good you taste?” You nod your head as you suck on him.

“I could live off of you. You’re like a high that I never come down from. I’m never leaving you.”

-

A/n: let’s be real here, Thanos is definitely the guy that loves giving his girlfriend head and tracing his name with his tongue on her.

[withahappyrefrain]

More of Peter being a bumbling fool 🤭

Going back to fuckboy/childhood best friend Peter. You've just finished grad school, you're working your dream job, and you're finally FINALLY starting to date after years of focusing on school.

You've been talking to a guy for a few weeks, and decide you're ready to start testing the waters with risqué stuff. So, naturally, you send a picture of you in nothing but a t shirt and lace panties. The shirt is oversized, mostly white with a print in it, but most importantly *Peter's*.

The picture you take is *chefs kiss*. Nipples hard and obvious through the thin material, you pulled up one aide to show the lace panties, your blankets are a mess and there's a peep of a vibrator under your blanket.

You quickly send it to the boy you've been talking to. Or... so you thought. You actually send it to Peter, but don't realize until he responds

I'm coming home. Do not move.

Confusion hits you first. Why would this guy refer to your place as home? That was quite bold of him.

Then you hear the thump out on the fire exit, which is how Peter prefers to enter when he's rushed.

Wait.

You look back at the text, specifically the top where the name Peter is clearly displayed.

Not Dan.

Before you can think, the bedroom door slams open. There's Peter, visibly out of breath, chest heaving as he points to his phone.

"What the fuck?" He sounds like he just ran a marathon. Peter only gets like that when he's put through the ringer on patrol.

Not with you.

"Peter, I-"

"This is how you tell me?" His pupils are so overblown you can barely see the whiskey casted irises you adore so much.

"Look, Peter, I-" you stop, realizing you haven't pulled the bed sheet up yet, so those white lace panties were still very visible.

"No, I have had to push down my feelings for you for years. Fucking years. And you tell me with a picture? While I'm at work?" He points to his phone, exasperated, "You couldn't have waited until my lunch break? For fuck's sake, Eddie nearly saw ya."

Wait a damn minute.

"Did you say years?" It was the first coherent sentence you could get out.

Peter made his way to the bed, his body now inches away from yours. The scent of cinnamon flooded your nostrils. His whole being was usually so comforting. But now, it was overwhelming, your mind buzzing with revelations.

"If you want specifics, since I was fifteen. Do the math, you're good at that." His hands linger, as though he wants to touch you but some unknown force is holding back.

"I have you beat by two years." The confession is quiet as it hangs over you two. His eyes soften, it's all you can observe before his lips crash against yours. They're soft, no doubt due to the amount of chapstick you watch him apply. His hands reach up to cup your face, deepening the kiss.

You've put a lot of time into imagining what it was like to kiss Peter Parker. Nothing could compare you to reality. His beard was soft, brushing against your skin. He rubbed a thumb against your cheek and you practically melted into the bed.

Peter could hear your heart racing, could sense the nerves running through your body. He brought one hand to the middle of your back, steadying you as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip.

Grasping at his jacket, you let his tongue into your mouth and God, why did you wait so long for this? All the feelings you thought were gone came rearing back. But instead of feeling, discouraged, like normal, you felt invigorated. Brave even, given how your hands tangled themselves in his dark hair.

Leaning back until your body was pressed against the mattress, you forced him on top of you.

"F-fuck, wait," Peter propped himself up with his arms, his body hovering over yours.

"Wait? We've both been waiting fifteen plus years for this." You barely registered your own words, too focused on his slightly swollen lips and messy hair.

"Y-yeah, that's why," Peter ran a hand through his hair, as though it would help me become coherent, "W-why I need to take you out."

You arched an eyebrow, "Take me out? Since when do you care about going on a date first, bed second?"

Somehow, Peter's face was able to turn even redder, "S-since it's you."

[interlude63]

Hearts and Fists

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON, toxic relationship, jealous!Rafe, public indecency, possessive behavior, fighting also english isn’t my first language.

Summary: You wanted to go on a romantic date — too bad your boyfriend has different plans.

Word count: 3k

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“I just have some shit to do, okay?” Rafe muttered over the phone, his tone clipped and dismissive.

Lately, that was all he ever said when you asked if he wanted to hang out. No explanation, no effort—just excuses. It was frustrating. Maddening, even.

Things weren’t always like this. For almost two years of you dating, Rafe had always made time for you. Back then, you were inseparable, stealing every free moment just to be together. But now?

It had been months since you’d gone on a proper date. Just the two of you. His lapdogs always coming along.

Well—except for the times when he fucked you. It seemed like the only thing Rafe wanted to do with you.

“Whatever.” You muttered before hanging up, frustration burning in your chest. Was it really that hard for him to make time for you? You weren’t asking for much.

Shaking it off, you decided to grab breakfast by yourself.

You were at The Wreck when you spotted Sarah sitting with her group of questionable friends. Not that Rafe was any less dubious himself.

He was always warning you about Pogues, telling you to stay away from them. But right now, you were so mad at him that you decided to do the exact opposite.

So, when Sarah came up to you and asked if you wanted to join them, you agreed. It was kind of awkward at first, especially since you’d never really hung out with her friend group before. But after some time, you started to actually enjoy it. The conversation flowed easier, and you found yourself laughing at things you wouldn’t normally find funny. It felt… different, but in a good way.

“So, we were thinking about hitting the beach later. Are you joining us?” Pope asked, and you thought it was really sweet of him to include you.

“Oh, I mean, you probably have plans with your boyfriend or something,” he added quickly, looking a little embarrassed by his question.

You smiled, trying to ease his discomfort. “No, I don’t have anything to do today, so if that’s not a problem, I’d love to join you guys.”

That day you came home later than you thought you would—it was already pretty dark outside. You were having so much fun with Sarah, John B, Kiara, JJ, and Pope, especially Pope, that you had completely lost track of time.

Young Heyward was so sweet and open-minded, and even though your boyfriend was such an asshole to him, he still got along with you effortlessly. You appreciated that more than you could say.

As you walked inside, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Pope: “Hope you made it home safely.” You smiled, feeling a warmth you hadn’t expected.

──────────────────────

The next morning, Rafe texted you.

“Be there in 10.”

No good morning, no want to hang out? It rubbed you the wrong way. Whenever you wanted to make plans, he was always too busy. But when he decided to see you, you had to drop everything. It felt… one-sided.

Still, you pushed the thought away and got ready. Not long after, you heard the sound of Rafe’s truck pulling into the driveway, followed by your mother opening the door for him.

Your parents adored Rafe. To them, he was the perfect match—good-looking, rich, and charismatic. The kind of guy any girl on the island would be lucky to have.

You sat in Rafe’s car, the engine humming softly beneath you. He hadn’t said much— his eyes stayed fixed on the road, only flicking toward you for the briefest second before looking ahead again.

“So… where are we going?” you finally asked, breaking the silence.

“My place,” he said, not even sparing you a glance.

The second you stepped into his room, Rafe was on you—no hesitation, no words. His hands were rough, stripping you down like he’d been waiting for this all night.

And for a moment, you let yourself believe that this—this—meant something. That maybe he missed you. Maybe he still cared.

──────────────────────

"Fuck, you're so perfect," he groaned, his body still trembling against yours as he collapsed on top of you.

The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the scent of sweat and sex clinging to the air as you both came down from the high of it all.

Then, he started kissing you again, leaving small, lingering marks on your neck, each touch deliberate and slow, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I have to go, though,” he said as he get up from bed, already reaching for his clothes, slipping on his pants like he hadn’t just had you in every possible position.

You sat up, the warmth of his body still lingering against your skin. “Already?” You didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“Yeah. Topper and Kelce will be here soon.”

Your stomach twisted. Of course. He couldn’t even spend one full day with you without them showing up.

“They’re coming too?” you asked, unable to keep the distaste from your tone.

Rafe smirked. “Come on, no need to be jealous. It’s not like I’m fucking them too or something.”

Oh yeah. That definitely made you feel better.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your lips together before muttering, “I thought it’d be just us this time.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened at your tone. “Oh, fuck. Are you seriously about to throw a tantrum because I want to spend time with my friends?”

“No. But when you guys hang out, all you do is scream at the TV, drink beer, and talk shit about people. That’s not exactly my idea of fun.”

He scoffed. “It’s not like you can’t invite your friends over too.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Yeah, except I can’t—because you don’t like them. And whenever they are around, you’re mean to them.”

“Not my fault you pick the wrong friends,” he said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Anger bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it. “Maybe I picked the wrong boyfriend.” The words slipped out, barely a whisper—more for yourself than him.

But Rafe did hear.

In an instant, he was in front of you, gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze to his. His face was too close, his breath hot against your skin. His blue eyes burned into yours, dark with something unreadable.

“What was that?” His voice was low, dangerous.

“Nothing,” you muttered quickly, suddenly regretting every single word.

Rafe’s grip didn’t loosen. “No, say that shit again,” he challenged.

But before you could respond, the doorbell rang. His head snapped toward the sound, jaw clenched. Without another word, he let go and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

So, you spent the rest of the day with Rafe and his friends. It was just as boring as you’d expected—nothing but drinking, shouting over the TV and mindless video games, and talking trash about Pogues, but you endured it. Like always. You had nothing else to do anyway, and you were just so desperate to be with your boyfriend, even if it meant settling for something that didn’t feel right.

”Rafe, can you drive me home?” you asked after realizing it was getting late.

“Can’t you stay the night?” he countered, a smirk tugging at his lips—the one you knew all too well. Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your neck before burying his face there.

“I can’t, I need to—” You barely got the words out before he lifted his head, his eyes locking onto yours, almost pleading.

“Pretty please, hmm? We could go to the movies tomorrow. I heard they’re playing one of those trash romance films you like so much,” he teased, trying to sway you.

“They’re not trash, Rafe,” you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Of course.” His grin widened. “So, do we have a deal?”

And that’s how you ended up spending the night at the Cameron estate.

──────────────────────

You were beyond happy that Rafe had actually taken you out on a date, so you made sure to dress up nicely. Luckily, you kept some of your clothes in his closet, and after a little searching, you picked out a pretty blue dress—one you knew he’d like.

At the outdoor cinema, the two of you sat side by side in fold-out chairs, the massive screen glowing in front of you. The night air was warm, the low hum of the movie filling the space around you. Popcorn and soda in your lap, Rafe finishing off a beer. It had been about twenty minutes into the film, and you were really enjoying it so far.

Rafe, on the other hand, clearly wasn’t.

You could feel his eyes on you more than the screen, stealing glances instead of paying attention. And then, his hand found your thigh. It was nothing unusual—he did that often—but as the minutes passed, his fingers slowly started to creep higher.

“Rafe,” you warned softly.

He only hummed in response, pretending not to hear the hint of caution in your voice. Instead of stopping, his hand slid up even further.

“Just relax,” Rafe murmured, his voice low and commanding as his fingers grazed over the thin fabric of your underwear.

When he pulled your panties to the side, a rush of fear hit you—there were people around, and you couldn’t shake the worry of being seen. But despite the anxiety, a soft, involuntary sound escaped you—a mix between a sigh and a whimper. Rafe’s eyes stayed fixed on you, sharp and analytical, drinking in every reaction.

His thumb drifted upward, tracing slow, deliberate circles over your clit, his touch both torturous and addicting. His eyes darken as he watched you tremble beneath him. “Just like that” he whispered and without warning, he slipped two fingers inside, stretching you open—your breath caught, your body arching as you surrendered to his touch.

You were still a little sore from last night, a lingering ache that blended with the slow, building pleasure. Rafe was gentle, his touch careful yet deliberate, each movement sending a wave of warmth through you. You could feel your body responding to him, a building tension deep inside, and before long, you came on his fingers, a rush of pleasure flooding you.

“Good girl,” Rafe murmured, his voice low and filled with obvious satisfaction as he watched you, the praise made you shiver.

──────────────────────

After that, Rafe let you watch the movie in peace, mostly staying on his phone. You smiled to yourself, enjoying one of the movie’s scenes—it was so cute and romantic. Then, suddenly, you heard that familiar voice. “Hi, man” It was Topper. Fucking Topper. What was he doing here?

“What’s up, bro?” your boyfriend responded.

“Come on, baby,” Rafe said softly, gesturing for you to move onto his lap so Topper could take your seat. At this point, you were so frustrated you didn’t even care. You made room for Topper, just wanting to finish the movie. But, of course, now they were talking, disturbing your focus.

You needed a break from all this, so you stood up, telling them you were going to grab some soda.

You picked up your snack from the concession stand and were heading back when you heard a voice behind you. “Hi.” It was JJ, waving at you, with Pope standing beside him.

“Oh, hey! Are you guys enjoying the movie?” you asked, trying to keep it light.

Pope froze for a second, clearly caught off guard by your attention. He hesitated, his eyes darting between you and JJ, clearly uncomfortable. JJ, sensing the awkwardness, quickly chimed in, “Yeah, the film’s great, right Pope?”

The boy cleared his throat, his voice quieter than usual. “Uh, yeah… yeah, it’s really great,” he stammered, unable to hide the nervousness in his tone. His gaze lingered on you for just a moment before he quickly looked away, his face flushing slightly.

You wanted to talk to them a little more, but you knew you couldn’t keep Rafe waiting. He’d get suspicious, like he always did. So, with a quick smile, you said, “Alright, gotta go, see you guys later,” turning on your heels to walk away. But as you took a step, you suddenly froze. Rafe’s gaze was locked on you, his eyes burning with fury and jealousy. The intensity of his stare made your heart race, and you could feel the weight of his anger without even needing to say a word.

“Rafe,” you started, trying to calm him down, hoping he’d understand it was just a casual conversation about the film, nothing serious. But Rafe didn’t have it. Without warning, he stormed over to the Pogues, Topper right behind him.

“Come on, man, we were just talking,” JJ tried to reason with him, his voice tense. But it was no use. Rafe’s temper was already boiling over. He swung, landing a punch straight to JJ’s face.

JJ hit the ground hard, dazed, and Rafe stood over him, seething. “My girl won’t be talking to some fucking Pogues,” he spat, the words sharp and full of contempt. The spit hit the ground beside JJ.

Pope, fuming with anger, couldn’t hold back anymore. “You’re a fucking psycho!” he shouted at Rafe, his voice shaking with fury. But before he could say another word, Topper stepped in. Grabbing Pope by the shirt, he slammed his fist into his stomach repeatedly, each hit harder than the last. Pope gasped, his breath knocked out of him, struggling to stay on his feet as Topper’s blows landed with brutal force.

The crowd had gathered around, forming a tight circle, all eagerly watching the chaos unfold. They were shouting, urging the fight on with loud cheers and taunts.

JJ had managed to get back on his feet, fists raised, and the fight between him and Rafe ignited again. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Stop! Please, just stop!” you begged, rushing between them, your voice trembling. You grabbed Rafe’s arm, trying to pull him back, but he was still seething. JJ was breathing heavily, his face bruised from the last punch, but he wasn’t backing down either.

“You look at her again, I’ll fucking break your skull open!” Rafe shouted, his voice filled with raw fury.

You turned just in time to see Topper’s hands wrapped around Pope’s throat, choking him. Pope’s face was turning red, his eyes wide in panic as he struggled to breathe, unable to draw in enough air. The sight sent a wave of panic through you, but the violence was escalating so quickly, you didn’t know how to stop it.

The sudden wail of police sirens cut through the chaos, and in an instant, the crowd started scattering, running in all directions to avoid getting caught. Topper finally released his grip on Pope, letting him collapse to the ground, gasping for air. He quickly turned to Rafe, his eyes wide with urgency.

“Come on, the cops are here!” Topper shouted, pulling at Rafe’s arm. But Rafe, still seething with rage, shoved JJ one last time, sending him stumbling back.

“You’re lucky, bitch,” Rafe spat, his voice low and full of venom. His eyes remained locked on JJ for a moment, as if daring him to do something. But as the sirens grew louder, Rafe finally turned. His gaze shifted to you, and without warning, he grabbed your wrist, his grip tight and almost painful.

“You’re not so much,” he muttered, his voice dripping with frustration and possessiveness as he began to drag you through the crowd. You stumbled to keep up with him, the chaotic scene still unfolding behind you, but Rafe wasn’t paying attention to anything else.

And you? You were furious about what he meant by that.

──────────────────────

He dragged you all the way down to his truck. You didn’t see a soul around—he had parked in an empty, desolate spot. The sky had started to turn a deep navy blue as dusk settled in. Without warning, he slammed you onto the car, pinning you against its metal surface.

“I leave you for one second, and you go running to the Pogues?” he shouted, his voice seething with fury. His hair was messy from the fight, blood staining his chin and soaking through his shirt, his appearance wild and chaotic.

“I was just saying hi.” you said, barely able to get the words out

“For what? You want to fuck him? Or maybe you already did, huh? Did you fuck JJ?” he hissed, his voice full of venom. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. You shook your head, but it only seemed to make Rafe angrier. “How about Pope, hmm? He was blushing like a bitch” he sneered. Then, with a swift motion, he punched his car with a fist, so close to your head that you flinched, fear coursing through you. For the first time in your life, you were so terrified that you truly thought he was going to kill you.

Rafe’s eyes locked onto yours, intense and burning with fury as he snarled, “Maybe you fucked them both?” He grabbed your throat, and you could feel his bloodied knuckles pressing against your skin. His face inches from yours, his breath hot and heavy, noses nearly touching. “Were you a good cumdumpster to them?” he hissed, and the words made you want to vomit.

Tears blurred your eyes and stained your face as Rafe roughly turned you around, his chest pressing hard against your back, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. One of his hands was still on your shoulder, gripping it tightly, while the other moved toward his pants. You heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt, and it made you whimper, a wave of terror washing over you.

Rafe didn’t even take the time to prepare you, shoving his full length inside you, his face buried in the back of your neck and your hair as he muttered with disgust, “God, you’re so pathetic, I can’t even look at you.”

[yvesdoee]

content 𐙚 : when you and babygumi bring a stray into the house ( part two ) 🐈‍⬛ pt. 1

warnings 𐙚 : just fluff. dad!toji, wife!reader, megumi is your biological son. no proofread bc i’m really sleepy. wc : 745

okay, so we all agree that toji would be 100% the kind of dad who “doesn’t want any cats in this house”, but ends up being the most loving cat dad ever?

you knocked softly on the door, hearing a “come in” from the other side. you opened it, stepping into megumi’s room. little boy was already tucked into bed, his favorite stuffed bunny in his arms, the dim light casting a warm glow around the room.

“mommy, why doesn’t mr.cat like me?” megumi’s small, sad voice made your heart ache. you immediately softened, moving to sit on the edge of his bed.

you let out a quiet chuckle, taking his small hand in yours, gently stroking the back of his palm with your thumb. “megs, he loves you. after all, you’re the one who noticed him on the street and brought him home.” you smiled reassuringly.

megumi’s little brows furrowed. “but when i try to pet him, he walks away from me! and he won’t sleep on my bed. he loves dad more.” his voice was full of hurt, his small shoulders sagging with disappointment.

“sweetie, not all kittens are affectionate, it doesn't mean he doesn't love you. he just shows his love in a different way.”

that answer seemed to satisfy megumi, though he was still upset.

you opened the book you had brought with you—a collection of Japanese folk tales—and began to read. the story of momotaro, the boy born from a peach who grew up to defeat ogres, was always a favorite.

when you finished, you closed the book with a soft thud, the silence in the room settling in.

“was i born in a peach too?” he asked suddenly.

you giggled at his innocent question. “no, you weren’t born in a peach. you grew in my belly before you were born.”

megumi blinked up at you, looking as if he were trying to process the idea before simply nodding, satisfied with the explanation. he yawned, his small eyes closing slowly, drifting toward sleep.

you stood up from the bed quietly, smoothing the blankets around him as you whispered, “good night, megumi.”

you left his room quietly, heading toward the living room. toji was sprawled out on the couch, already asleep, his broad frame looking utterly relaxed. his hand rested on his jaw, and the tiny ball of fur curled up on his chest—mr.cat—was snuggled up close to him. you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight.

you knew the story well. toji had been vehemently against bringing a cat into the house when you first suggested it. he’d grumbled about the mess, the hassle, the hair—everything. but now… now it was clear that he and mr.cat had become inseparable. the kitten had claimed toji as his own, following him around the house like a shadow, napping on his chest, and curling up next to him every chance he got. the bond was undeniable, and it was obvious that toji had softened, his gruff demeanor melting whenever the cat was around.

you walked over to the couch, gently patting his shoulder. toji stirred, mumbling something as he slowly opened his eyes. when he saw you, his lips curved into a sleepy smile.

“hey, ma.” he murmured hoarsely, blinking up at you.

“let’s go to bed, toji. you can’t sleep on the couch.”

with a small groan he got up from the couch, the cat woke up too, following you into the bedroom. mr.cat trotted along right behind you both, almost like a little guard dog, sticking close to toji.

“you guys seem to get along well.” you chuckled.

“i don’t like him. little guy just happened to follow me.”

you couldn’t help but giggle at his words. “uh-huh, sure. whatever you say.” you shot him a teasing smile as you both climbed into bed.

the cat followed toji, as always, jumping up onto the bed and settling down at the edge, right next to toji’s feet.

toji grunted, pulling the covers up around both of you, before wrapping his arms around you.

“good night, ma.” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

“good night, love.” you whispered back.

just before you closed your eyes, you could hear the soft purring of cat from the edge of the bed. he had finally claimed his spot—right next to his favorite person. toji’s arm tightened around you as you both drifted to sleep, a warm, peaceful night settling over your little family.

[nana-mizu-shiki]

[[Hehehe >:] Of course! Imma put the tags I used for the 2nd post I made below bc I had made plans and I wanna use them as reference lol. Also, I'm absolutely loving doing this, but I will only continue after someone else rb's, I'd rather have every other reblog be mine than every one in a row. Idk, just feels weird reblogging my own part of the story. Anyways, I hope you guys like this as much as I do :) .]]

[[ #tim drake #danny phantom #dc #fanfic #funny #batman #dpxdc #tims mild stalking aint that mild but its mild for him #i know i made it sound like tim cheated jazz in but he didnt. what he did was still very illegal though #i was going to put more but my wifis being weird and i had to rewrite that last part like 3 times #next would be danny having a flashback to him punching red robin and recognizing their Vibes(souls/core) #this IS all also happening in Metropolis too btw #he has no reason to be in Gotham #cafes are overused. ive only heard of the Danny Diner once #jazz is amazing #yes the fenton parents are dead #how? idk #why? bc i wanted Danny to be Vlads ward #tim is also going to be calling him Daniel until told otherwise #anyways #;> #im obsessed with this lol ]]

~~~~~~~~~~~◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇~~~~~~~~~~

Danny had been exploring the new city he was living in invisible, intangible, and flying-able, as one does, when he had spotted what was obviously a mugging.

Now, Danny wasn't flying about in his ghost form looking for trouble- well, actually, he was- but he wasn't doing so looking to fight those doing the trouble. He was making sure where he was was safe, making sure he and his sister didn't accidentally move directly in the middle of a dangerous gang's territory or something. (They didn't, this wasn't Gotham, (But it sure was close(literally)) but he still had to check, y'know)

So anyways, on his way back home he spotted a mugging, not much honestly, but he still felt bad just thinking about leaving the poor dude, clearly just some teen struggling as is, to the fate of possibly not eating tonight because some jerk took his budget.

....He is NOT projecting, sush it! Sure, not everything the Fentons made was edible and sometimes he or Jazz had to spend all their own saved money on occasion to not be poisoned but- Whatever!

Danny had flown about a block away before shifting back alive in some dark alley- surprisingly so for Metropolis- and then walked back casually back to where he knew it was happening, intending to help the teen via distraction.

However, when Danny had actually gotten the Thief's attention, somehow ending up cornering the guy while the teen ran, some short red figure had dropped in front of him and knocked the guy out swiftly, having shocked both the Thief and Danny thoroughly with his sudden appearance.

With the red figure turning around, Danny punched them before he could be attacked and stumbled to the entrance of the alley, more in the light with more room to run should the Red figure approach.

The Red one had stumbled back as well, more due to Danny's punch rather than his own violation. And Danny heard as he tripped over a few cans that had fallen out of nearby trash cans. Danny had watched the Red one rapidly as they recovered from the punch, and had come to a slowly dawning horror of realization as he recognized what they were wearing as a superhero suit. He didn't know which one, but it was definitely one of them.

The Red hero had looked up as Danny had finally realized what he had done and they had simply stared at each other for a while before...

Before Danny decided, once more, to just Book It.

He wasn't dealing with this bullshit, not today.

••••••••••♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧••••••••••

Danny blinked out of the memory as he stared at the boy by the door, holding out what must be more than at least 4 dozen roses in one bouquet and smiling sheepishly with a hand (not holding the bouquet) scratching his neck.

He was... the Wayne boy he had punched, like, months ago.

And also... that Red Robin hero he had run into, like, a few weeks ago.

Danny blinked once more at the flowers, looking around the diner, between the would-be-criminal and his apparently-secret-admirer, and once more at the flowers.

Yeah. He had absolutely no idea what was going on.

He didn't mind much though. The guy was pretty cute for someone he'd punched on multiple occasions.

....And for someone who was so clearly alive but had such Obsession that he had formed his own mini-core. The Obsession didn't even seem to be focused on one thing! Not that Danny can tell, really.

And. Huh. That's definitely something Danny didn't know was possible. Whatever, he was literally-technically prince of an entire realm that's the in-between of literally every universe in existence, this probably just makes him liminal in some other technical way. Liminal-Adjacent or something.

The silence almost stretches onto becoming awkward, and so Danny just blurts out his answer, not even really remembering the question.

"I… I mean, sure? Why... not? I mean, you seem cool, I guess."

Danny shrugged awkwardly, looking down at the passed-out would-be-thief as he began to flush, seeing out of the corner of his eye as the Wayne boy grinned like he gave him a million dollars (actually, bad analogy, he's like a billionaire so that's probably loose change to him, whatever, it's the principle of the thing).

"Great!" The boy exclaimed, skipping over and placing the roses and a note that he pulled from nowhere onto the counter Danny had hopped over.

"I know this place closes soon, so if you don't have anything planned already I'd love to take you out later today, my numbers on there if you want to fish this out more over text. I'll see you later Daniel!"

"Wha.… How the hell did I score some sickly pretty rich boy?" Danny muttered absently as he watched the other skip out the door grinning ear to ear.

Shaking himself out of his stupor once more now that his apparent soon-to-be-date left his store, Danny focused back on the passed out dude loitering on his floor.

"Hm. Now what do I do with you?"

Sorry, Rich Boy

If there was anything Danny hated more than anything, it was doing what Vlad wanted him to do. Especially when he'd done it thinking it was against the fruitloop's wishes and the man gave him that smirk that tells him Danny had played right into the fuckers hands.

So Danny had gotten good at sniffing out a scheme. And, honestly, he didn't need to do much sniffing here.

Vlad had invited him as a plus one to a Wayne (Yes, that Wayne. Brucie Goddamn Wayne.) Gala, meant to take place only a few days from now. Vlad must have suspected Danny would never agree, would have thought it was another attempt for Danny's loyalty where none of his friends could help. Unfortunately for Vlad, Danny was a spiteful fuck and he wouldn't let Vlad go to a Gala full of rich fools alone. Not when Vlad had previously admitted to how he'd gotten his fortune in the first place.

So, there Danny was, keeping an eye on Vlad. At a Wayne Gala. In Gotham, New Jersey. Fuck his half-life.

It was a horrible idea, really. The suit is stuffy, the room is stuffy, and the people are fucking stuffy. He hangs around the food for the most part, only because Vlad keeps coming back to it which makes keeping an eye on the guy somewhat easier. He admits coming was a good idea only when he sees Vlad making buddies with the Wayne troop themselves and that smirk is on his face. Well, fuck that.

He catalogs the group; not including Bruce Wayne there is a scowling child (immediately off the table, he’s not some fucko like Vlad okay), two teenage boys (one of them black and built like a small brick wall. The other a white boy, scrawny as hell, and looking a breeze away from passing out), two teenage girls (one a peppy blonde and the other a ravenette, off to the side laughing together), and a man (big).

Overall, if he had to pick who to go after to cause the most fuss, it’d be the kid. However, he has morals, so he sets his sights on the skinny white boy instead. He’s skinny, obviously, but upon a closer look has some muscle on him that makes Danny less guilty for his choice. Sorry, rich boy, but Danny has a godfather to piss off.

He sets down his drink, walks over, and decks the poor boy in the face. The look of horror on Vlad's face is well worth the absolute confusion coating the entire group.

And, just for the cherry on top, he turns to Brucie Wayne and the fruitloop, "Your Gala sucks and so does your city. Fuck this place, never bring me here ever again Vlad."

[lazysoulwriter]

rain check & red sauce. - rafe cameron.

Rafe had been talking about this date for weeks. Weeks. He had made a whole thing out of it—whispering in your ear about the reservation at the fanciest restaurant in town, sending you teasing texts about the five-star meal you were about to experience, and even promising to wear actual dress shoes instead of his usual boat shoes.

And then, of course, Mother Nature decided to ruin everything.

The storm rolled in like it was personally offended by your plans, bringing winds that rattled the windows and rain that turned the streets into rivers. The fancy restaurant? Closed. The roads? Flooded. Your perfect date night? Canceled.

Rafe was pacing your living room, running a hand through his already-messy hair, looking absolutely devastated.

“Baby, I— I swear to God, I checked the weather this morning. It said cloudy, not— not hurricane mode! This is bullshit,” he groaned, throwing his hands up. “I had it all planned out! The flowers, the— the freakin’ lobster bisque, the—”

You sat on the couch, watching him spiral. It was honestly kind of adorable seeing him so worked up over a dinner.

“Rafe, it’s fine—”

“It’s not fine! This was supposed to be— Ugh, I don’t know, special or whatever.” He stopped pacing and looked at you, his blue eyes full of frustration. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Your heart melted. You stood up and walked over to him, resting your hands on his chest. “Rafe. It is special. You’re here. I’m here. Who cares about some overpriced pasta?”

He sighed dramatically, wrapping his arms around you. “But, babe. You deserve overpriced pasta.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You know what we can do? Cook dinner together.”

That got his attention. He pulled back slightly, blinking at you like you just suggested skydiving without a parachute. “Together? As in— like, both of us?”

You smirked. “Yeah, that’s what together means.”

“...Do I look like I know how to cook?”

“Not at all,” you admitted, dragging him towards the kitchen.

“Okay, well— at least let me order something. I’ll call someone—”

You grabbed his phone out of his hand. “Nope. We’re making this happen.”

Rafe groaned but let you push him towards the fridge. “This is a terrible idea.”

It turned out, Rafe Cameron in the kitchen was both a disaster and the funniest thing you’d ever seen.

First, he tried to cut an onion and somehow ended up sending half of it flying across the counter. “Why is this so slippery?!” he exclaimed, looking personally offended by the vegetable.

Then, you asked him to stir the sauce while you checked on the pasta. You turned around for one second and suddenly, there was tomato sauce everywhere. On the stove, on the counter, on his shirt.

“RAFE—”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!”

You wiped a hand down your face. “What did you do?!”

“I was stirring!” he said defensively, holding up the wooden spoon like it was the culprit. “It just— it had a mind of its own, babe, I swear.”

You were laughing so hard, you had to lean against the counter. “Oh my God, you’re hopeless.”

But despite the mess, despite Rafe being literally the worst sous chef of all time, the night turned out perfect.

By some miracle, the pasta wasn’t overcooked. The sauce— after Rafe’s dramatic battle with it— actually tasted amazing. You even lit some candles and sat on the floor in the living room, eating your homemade meal while the storm raged outside.

Rafe took a sip of wine, stretching his legs out. “Alright. I’ll admit it. This is way better than some stuffy restaurant.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re a home-cooked meal guy?”

He grinned, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Nah. I’m a you guy.”

Your heart melted.

“God, that was so cheesy,” you muttered, trying to fight back a smile.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been hanging out with you too much.”

You nudged him playfully, and he laughed before pulling you into his lap, pressing a warm kiss against your lips. The rain kept falling outside, the candles flickered in the dim room, and for a night that had gone completely off-script, it couldn’t have been more perfect.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 18

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Dark, Mystery, Betrayal.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

Ransom exhaled through his nose, watching Bucky from the corner of his eye. He didn’t miss the way Barnes was looking at you—sharp, assessing, possessive. A slow smirk crept onto Ransom’s lips. That look meant one thing.

Bucky wanted something. And Ransom had never been one to let an opportunity slip through his fingers.

Without taking his gaze off Bucky, Ransom reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He rolled it between his fingers before handing you a lighter.

“Light it for me,” he said casually.

You hesitated for a second before taking the lighter. With a flick, the flame ignited, casting an orange glow against your fingers. Ransom leaned in, bringing the tip of his cigarette to the flame. The brief moment made him feel closer to you. He inhaled slowly, the embers glowing brighter, before exhaling a stream of smoke.

He had done this on purpose.

And just as he expected—Bucky turned and walked away.

Ransom chuckled under his breath. “He’s mad about you.”

You scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” he said, taking another drag. “He kept bringing you up when discussing the recent audit.”

Your stomach twisted. “How much do you two actually discuss?”

“Everything. The hotel, the road, and the most recent? The hospital.” He tapped the ash from his cigarette. “It’s already halfway built—should be open next year.”

Your pulse quickened. “Who’s going to run it?”

“The local guy. Dr. Tony Stark.”

Your fingers curled into a fist at your side.

Tony Stark.

The man responsible for nearly killing your father.

Your mind spun. A hospital under his control meant one thing—patients wouldn’t be treated. They’d be test subjects. A place meant for healing would become a graveyard.

Ransom studied you, his smirk fading. “Your face just now… like you smelled something rotten.” His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp. “What is it?”

You kept your voice steady. “Every town needs a hospital. But if Stark’s in charge, this one will be a slaughterhouse.”

Ransom exhaled smoke, but this time, his easygoing act was gone. When it came to business, he didn’t take risks. If something could jeopardize his investments, he’d dig until he found the truth. He wouldn’t let himself sink with the ship.

His voice dropped lower. “What exactly has this doctor done?”

“He nearly killed my dad. Misdiagnosed him, pumped him full of unnecessary meds.” You met his gaze, unflinching. “What would you do if a doctor did that to your family?”

Ransom’s jaw tensed. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. “How’s your dad now?”

“The moment he stopped taking Stark’s prescriptions, he started getting better. Alan’s overseeing his treatment now.”

At the mention of his family doctor, Ransom gave a knowing nod. Then, his lips quirked up—but there was no amusement in it.

“Why stop there?” he asked. “The Y/N I know wouldn’t half-ass this.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Ransom—”

“I’ll call the Health Ministry. Get Stark’s medical license revoked. What he did to your dad is enough to put him behind bars.”

Your breath hitched slightly.

You didn’t say thank you often.

But this time, you meant it.

“…Thank you.”

Ransom flicked the ash off his cigarette and gave you a small smirk. “Don’t mention it.”

Here’s the revised version with smoother grammar, more body language, and an intensified thriller/mystery tone:

Ransom exhaled smoke slowly, watching you with an unreadable expression. Then, he gave a small shrug.

“If I were in your position, you’d do the same for me.”

Before you could respond, a voice cut through the conversation.

“Should we continue the tour?”

Bucky.

His sudden presence sent a chill down your spine. You hadn’t even heard him approach.

Ransom smirked. “Perfect timing. Sadly, there’s a prick that could stop our negotiations.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly. “What could possibly interrupt the deal?”

Ransom flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his shoe. “I don’t want a killer doctor running the hospital.”

Bucky’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah,” Ransom said smoothly. “I always dig into the details before investing in anything. And this one? This one’s crucial. It’s people’s lives on the line.”

A beat of silence.

Then Bucky’s face smoothed over, back to his usual unreadable mask. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll find another replacement.”

Ransom chuckled. “Quick decision. I like it.”

“In fact,” Bucky added, glancing between the two of you. “I have the perfect person for the job.”

Then his gaze settled on you.

You froze.

“No,” you said flatly.

“I agree,” Ransom interjected. “She’s not suitable for this. The director needs a medical background.” He shot you a side glance. “Besides, I don’t want her staying here. I want her back working for me.”

Your stomach twisted.

The way he said it—like you were something to be reclaimed, something that belonged to him.

Bucky tilted his head slightly. “That’s too bad,” he said, voice smooth as silk. “I’m sure she’d do a great job.”

“What do you think, Y/N?” Ransom asked.

You forced a polite smile. “That’s a generous offer. But I’ll decline. I prefer to go back to the city. My dad’s there for his treatment.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

If Ransom hadn’t come, you wouldn’t have bothered coming back at all. And now, all you wanted was to get him out of this town before it pulled him into its web.

A tense silence settled between the three of you.

Then Ransom clapped his hands together. “Oh yeah, I’m curious about the casino.”

Bucky’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he forced a smile. “I’ll show you.”

Ransom turned to you. “You should talk to the others. They’d love to hear your insight.”

You gave a small nod. “Sure.”

Without another word, you walked away.

Bucky watched as you disappeared into a crowd of former colleagues. It didn’t take long before you were surrounded, everyone hanging onto your every word, nodding, listening—admiring.

It was almost laughable.

Because right now, you were the one with status, with influence.

And he—James Barnes, once the golden boy of this town—stood on the outskirts, watching. Like an outcast. No friends, the only thing that hasn't changed is that he still has the money.

Just like he had been in high school.

Life was unpredictable.

“You two sure are close,” Bucky said casually.

Ransom smirked. “She’s my office wife.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed.

Ransom noticed. And he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Whenever I’m not in the office, she handles everything. I trust her completely.” Ransom’s smirk widened. “You like her, don’t you?”

Bucky exhaled through his nose. “I can’t forget her.”

“Good luck with that,” Ransom said, amusement laced in his voice. “After all the shit she went through growing up here.”

Bucky said nothing.

Because he knew.

He knew why you never gave him a chance.

And that’s exactly what he was trying to change.

Ransom flicked his cigarette away. “I’ll put my investment in the hospital on hold. But for the toll road? We should move forward.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Sure.”

But his mind was somewhere else.

On you.

You stood in the lobby, arms crossed, your foot tapping against the marble floor. The air smelled of polished wood and fresh coffee, but your patience was wearing thin. Ransom was taking longer than expected.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted someone familiar.

"Hey, you're back!" Jake’s voice carried over the low murmur of the lobby.

He looked surprised to see you, his usual easygoing grin tugging at his lips. But you didn’t return the smile. Instead, you grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a quieter corner, away from prying eyes.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Jake asked, raising a brow.

You scanned the area, making sure no one was listening, then leaned in. “I need a favor.”

Jake smirked. “You, asking me for a favor? This must be serious.”

“It is,” you said sharply. “I need you to ask your mom about everything. Thor. Natasha. The mayor. Tony.”

Jake’s smirk faltered. His mother was the town’s most reliable source of gossip—if something was happening, she knew about it.

He exhaled. “You really think something’s off?”

“I know something is.”

Before he could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention.

Ransom and Bucky stepped into the lobby together.

“He’s inviting us to see the hospital,” Ransom announced, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Hoping it’ll change my mind. Why not?”

Bucky’s expression remained unreadable.

You swallowed back the unease creeping up your spine.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The hospital was already halfway finished. The structure loomed above the town like a monument to progress—or something else entirely.

The group stepped into the elevator, the cold metallic walls reflecting your tense expressions.

Bucky pressed the button for the seventh floor.

“The hospital will have fourteen floors,” he explained as the lift ascended. “Top-tier equipment, specialists from the city, private VIP suites…”

His voice was steady, confident. But there was something calculated about the way he spoke—like he was carefully choosing his words.

When the doors slid open, the group stepped out onto the seventh floor. The air smelled of fresh cement and sawdust, the hallways still unfinished.

Bucky continued his explanation, gesturing toward different areas. “This wing will have the latest diagnostic technology. We’ve brought in the best doctors to oversee patient care. State-of-the-art surgical rooms—”

A sharp voice cut through the air.

“So that’s it?”

Everyone turned.

Tony.

His face was twisted in barely contained rage, his hands clenched into fists.

"You promised I’d be the hospital director! That’s the only reason I came back!"

His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. There was a wildness in his eyes, a man pushed to the edge.

Your stomach twisted. You knew he’d be angry when he found out he wouldn’t be hospital director—but this? This was something else.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Bucky said evenly. “But we need someone more qualified.”

Tony let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Bullshit. This was mine—I deserve this.”

Then you saw it.

The gleam of metal in his hand.

A knife.

Before you could react, he lunged.

You barely had time to move—your breath hitched—then—

A blur of movement.

Ransom.

He stepped in front of you, shoving you back—

The knife slashed—

A cry of pain—

Then the world tilted.

Ransom fell.

You watched, helpless, as he plummeted down the open space between floors—

“Ransom!” you screamed.

The seventh floor erupted into chaos.

Someone shouted for help.

Your heart pounded as you bolted toward the edge, peering down.

Sixth floor.

He’d landed on the concrete below, unmoving.

You ran.

Your pulse roared in your ears as you practically threw yourself down the stairwell, your vision blurring with panic.

When you reached him, your breath caught in your throat.

Blood.

A pool of it forming beneath his head.

“Oh no…”

Your hands trembled as you crouched beside him.

His eyes were half-lidded, his breath shallow.

“You piece of shit,” you choked out, pressing down on his wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “I won’t forgive you if you die.”

Somewhere above, Bucky was shouting orders.

But all you could hear was the frantic pounding of your own heart.

🏥🏥🏥🏥

Ransom stirred, his eyelids heavy, the world around him a blur of sterile white. A dull, aching pain throbbed through his body, but the worst of it radiated from his back. His throat felt dry, his head thick with the haze of medication.

Then he saw you.

You were sitting beside him, your hands clenched together in your lap. Dark circles framed your eyes, a clear sign that you hadn’t slept much. The moment his gaze met yours, your shoulders sagged with relief.

“You’re awake,” you whispered, exhaling sharply, as if you had been holding your breath for hours.

Ransom tried to smirk, but even that took effort. “Yeah. You look like hell.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, reaching for his hand but stopping just short of touching him. Instead, your fingers hovered over his, hesitant. “You almost died, you asshole.”

“Yeah, well… I didn’t.” His voice was hoarse.

Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and a doctor stepped inside, flipping through a clipboard.

“Mr. Drysdale,” the doctor began, his tone professional but firm. “Your fall caused severe damage. Your kidney took the worst of it.”

Ransom’s brow furrowed. “But I don’t—”

His body ached, sure, but nothing felt that severe. He had only fallen one floor. He had been through worse—like the time he crashed into a rocky slope while skiing and tumbled off a small cliff. That had left him bruised and battered, but it had never damaged his kidney.

Something didn’t add up.

You cut in, your voice quieter but knowing. “I see.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more—the injury or the fact that you already seemed to know something he didn’t.

The doctor sighed. “It’s a miracle you’re still alive. We’ll need to operate on your knees as well, but first, we need to focus on stabilizing you. You need to get stronger before we move forward with surgery.” The doctor hesitated before adding, “Mr. Barnes will cover all medical expenses.”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed. “Barnes?”

He shifted slightly, wincing as pain flared up his spine. Sure, his knees hurt, but his back was far worse.

Still, he forced himself to remain composed. He wasn’t about to show weakness.

“Tell Barnes I really appreciate it,” he said finally, his voice even but edged with something unreadable.

The doctor nodded, then exited, leaving the two of you alone.

Silence stretched between you.

Ransom swallowed, his throat dry. “Y/N… I—”

“Don’t say anything, Ransom.” Your voice was soft but firm. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of here as soon as possible.”

He watched you carefully, something flickering behind his tired blue eyes.

You meant it.

And that terrified him more than anything.

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[woozinhos]

messy and rough sex (maybe even high? 👀) with fwb! possessive! jealous! Jeonghan with whiny and bratty reader 🫣🤭

Notes: hope you enjoy anon first fic of the lock in writing session!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

It's a loud, crowded bar, and you're in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by your friends. The music is blaring and the lights are flashing, making it difficult to see anything beyond the immediate vicinity. You're laughing and dancing carefree, enjoying the night out with your friends. However, Jeonghan is watching you from a nearby table, his eyes narrowed as he observes you with a mixture of possessiveness and jealousy. Jeonghan sips his drink, his gaze fixed on you as you sway your hips to the beat. He's not particularly happy about the fact that you're dancing with other guys, but he tries to control his emotions and remain calm.

However, as one of your friends wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, Jeonghan can no longer hold back. He sets his drink down and makes his way over to you, his expression darkening. Jeonghan reaches you just as your friend spins you around, causing you to stumble slightly. He catches you in his arms, his grip firm as he pulls you against him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. You look up at him, a little surprised by his sudden appearance and aggressive tone. "Just dancing," you say, trying to sound nonchalant. "What's the problem?"

Jeonghan's grip on you tightens, his eyes flashing with jealousy. "The problem is that you're dancing with other guys," he snaps. "You're mine." You roll your eyes at his possessiveness. "I'm allowed to dance with whoever I want," you retort, trying to pull away from him. "You're not my boyfriend, remember?" Jeonghan's expression darkens even further, and he yanks you back against him. "Maybe I want to be," he mutters, his breath hot against your ear. "Maybe I want everyone to know that you're mine."

You stare at him, your heart racing in your chest. You never expected him to say something like that. "What are you talking about?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly. Jeonghan looks at you, his eyes burning with a mix of desire and determination. "I'm tired of pretending that this is just a casual thing," he says, his hands gripping your hips possessively. "I want more. I want you." Jeonghan's gaze roams over your body, his eyes lingering on your lips. "Let's get out of here," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "I need you. Now."

He pulls you closer, his body pressed against yours. "We can go to a hotel or we can get an Uber home," he suggests. "Either way, I'm not letting you out of my sight tonight." You feel a rush of excitement at his words, your body responding to his touch. You glance around the bar, trying to think straight. "Let's go to the hotel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to wait." Jeonghan grins and nods, clearly pleased with your decision. He quickly flags down a taxi and helps you inside, his hand never leaving your thigh.

During the ride to the hotel, he keeps you close, his lips grazing your neck and shoulder as he whispers dirty things in your ear. The taxi pulls up to the hotel and Jeonghan practically drags you out of the car. He leads you inside and books a room, his eyes never leaving yours. As soon as you're inside the room, he pushes you up against the wall and kisses you fiercely, his hands roaming over your body.

"I've been wanting to do this all night," he growls, his lips moving to your neck again. "You have no idea how hard it was to watch you dance with other guys." You moan as he sucks on your neck, leaving a trail of love bites. "I didn't know you were so possessive," you manage to say, your voice shaky.

Jeonghan nips at your earlobe, his hands sliding up your thighs. "You bring out the worst in me," he admits, his fingers digging into your skin. "I can't stand the thought of anyone else touching you." You gasp as he bites down harder, his teeth sinking into your skin. "You're mine," he repeats, his voice low and commanding. "And I'm going to show you just how much you belong to me."

He lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bed. He tosses you onto the mattress and quickly climbs on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head. Jeonghan looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?" he asks, his fingers tightening around your wrists. You nod, feeling a rush of submission wash over you. "Yes," you whisper, arching your back slightly. "I'll be good."

He smirks and leans down to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily. "Good girl," he murmurs against your lips. "Now let me take care of you." Jeonghan's hands move quickly, tearing your clothes off with a mixture of desperation and need. He's practically panting as he exposes your body to him, his eyes roaming over every inch of your skin.

"Beautiful," he breathes, his fingers tracing the curves of your body. "So perfect. All mine." He leans down and kisses your collarbone, his lips trailing down to your breasts. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently as he massages the other one with his hand.

You moan and arch your back again, your body responding to his touch. He switches sides, giving your other nipple the same attention, before moving lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. Jeonghan's tongue swirls around your clit, teasing you mercilessly. He can feel how wet you are for him, and it only fuels his desire even more. He pulls away from you and quickly undresses, his clothes falling to the floor in a messy heap. He crawls back onto the bed, his naked body hovering over yours.

"I need to be inside you," he groans, his cock hard and throbbing against your thigh. "Now."

You look up at him, your eyes wide with need. "Please," you beg, spreading your legs wider for him. "I need you too." Jeonghan smirks and positions himself at your entrance, teasing you by rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. "You're so eager," he says, his voice husky. "Such a needy little thing." He pushes into you slowly, his eyes locked on yours as he watches your face contort in pleasure. "So tight," he groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You feel so good around me."

He starts to move, his thrusts deep and hard, each one sending waves of ecstasy through your body. He leans down and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. Jeonghan is completely consumed by his desire for you, and he doesn't hold back. His movements are rough and messy, his hips snapping against yours with a primal force.

He bites down on your shoulder, leaving another mark on your skin as he continues to claim you as his own. "You're taking me so well," he praises, his voice rough with exertion. "Such a good girl." Your whines and moans only fuel Jeonghan's intensity, and he increases the pace of his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"That's it, baby," he growls. "Let me hear you. Let everyone know who's making you feel this way." The bed creaks and groans with every movement, protesting against the force of Jeonghan's thrusts. The sound is drowned out by the sounds of your moans and his grunts, creating a symphony of pleasure and desire. He pushes your legs further apart, changing the angle slightly to hit even deeper inside you. "You're mine," he repeats, his voice a low growl. "Say it."

"I'm yours," you gasp out, your nails raking down his back. "Only yours." Jeonghan grins, clearly pleased with your submission. "Good girl," he purrs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now touch yourself for me." You do as he says, your hand reaching down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation sends you spiraling even further into pleasure, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum," you whimper, your body trembling beneath him. "Please don't stop." Jeonghan grabs your wrists and pins them above your head again, his movements becoming even more erratic as he nears his own climax. "I'm close too," he groans, his forehead resting against yours. "Cum for me, Y-N. Let go."

You cry out as you reach your peak, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure wash over you. Jeonghan follows soon after, his hips stuttering as he spills himself inside you with a deep, guttural moan. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavily as you come down from your highs. He releases your wrists and kisses your forehead gently. Jeonghan pulls out slowly, watching as his cum leaks out of you and spreads across your thighs. He smirks and scoops some of it up with his fingers, bringing it to your lips.

"Taste yourself," he commands, his eyes dark with possessiveness. "Taste us." You part your lips obediently, sucking his fingers into your mouth and tasting the mixture of your fluids. Jeonghan watches you intently, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You're such a good little cumslut."

[morbid-archive-com]

△Shifting ask game: with Frank⋆˚࿔

⋆˚— What was your first dr? : i know it's cringe but i have to be honest, lt was MHA, i was a very cringy loser kid back in 2020 and watched way too much anime. And for why i switched it: it took a long time but i realized how much o didn't want to be a pro hero and how toxic that dr was. Now my main dr is dead by daylight (my fav game!) and this band dr i really love.

⋆˚— Here my name is Frank Morrison... I stole it! (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) I just didn't have more ideas for names and decided to take one from a fictional character from my dbd dr.

⋆˚— The garage! Just kidding, i stay with my band member in his house but he forgot to tell his parents, his mom saw me on the garage taking a nap and started hitting me with a broom! ರ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ರ

⋆˚— For edits well, it's 2005 so we got AMVs of our songs, clips from concerts going viral and glittery pfp's of my band members. Also stamps and blinkies people use in Myspace about our band! The fandom is pretty chill, mostly people getting wasted and doing pot or teens who hate their parents.

⋆˚— aaw the outfit of the day! I love that part.

well we have alternatives, being a teen fashion icon by the time looks so good.

⋆˚— free time is all the time, if you think about it... Anyways, just hang out with the guys, writing some lyrics or getting in trouble! Setting fire to cop cars is always an option! (I'm joking-not joking)

⋆˚— My non-native english suffered this one... But i think it means like my comfiest and safe dr that feels like a home. Well it's my alt future dr: already 35, life solved, millionare scientist and married to a beautiful husband. It's just the greatest dr i could have.

⋆˚— Punk band dr: 4 junkies with guittars play like shit and go famous.

⋆˚— My brain just spits ideas like a maniac and i make a pinterest board... Everything is in my braing or in notion written down.

⋆˚— i made a post once about it: i met Lu on highschool, Kristen is my mutual on Myspace and Dan works part time at a videoclub i always go to.

⋆˚— family?... what family? you guys scripted a family? The problem is that i didn't have any ideas for parents and it would be a problem for me so i scripted i was an orphan. This is very common so don't act like i'm weird.

⋆˚— the funniest scenario definitely was a my first awarding, i was so out of place between big artists from the time and i was just a little high so i fell asleep. Can you imagine waking up from a nap with your friends screaming and shaking like crazy, spotlights shining on you and a bunch of applause? I genuinely screamed "ALIENS?"... Anyways that was such a cool week, like having 5 star hotels, meeting a lot of people, getting out of jersey to visit Los angeles was something incredible as just a garage band.

⋆˚— Kristens brother, our manager and promoter. Like dude can you not frown and stare at me with hate for once?!? I just had a few shots, definitely not a whole bottle of vodka.

⋆˚— It's a Myspace blog named "The mischief booknote" i just post stuff about music and rebel shit i do for fun, also listing my 46 commited crimes and adding more everytime. Cause setting stuff on fire is cool when you're a teen.

That was fun!!! Thanks for this Asking game @solstices-dreams

ᓚᘏᗢ﹐𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. ⁞ ˎˊ˗

shifting ask game reblog for asks ↻ ‧₊˚.

i’m bored so here’s another ask game, i’ll try to ask to everyone who reblogs, as long as tumblr isn't too glitchy, but feel free to send asks to others

— 💡 : what was your first dr and what is currently your main dr? How and why have you made this switch?

— 🏷 : what is your name for your dr and why is that your name?

— 👜 : what’s your house look like? Do you have any roommates or people who live with you? What’s your favorite aspect of your house and why?

— 🎞 : what edits of you would there be in your dr? what is your fandom like?

— 🩰 : what is your OOTD (outfit of the day) for a dr and why?

— 🏛️ : what do you do in your free time? Who are you with? Where do you go?

— 🗝 : what is your most niche dr and why did you make it?

— 📜 : summarize your dr in a sentence

— 🧳 : what is your favorite way to script and share your favorite dr script

— ♟ : who’s in your friend group and how did you make this friend group?

— 🕰 : what’s your family like? Who���s your favorite person and what are your relationships with your different members?

— 🎻 : what is a fun scenario you have scripted and you excited for? (be detailed! :)

— 💼 : who is someone you don’t get a long with in your dr? Why?

— 🍨 : what are your socials like in your dr? Followers? Username? What do you post?