#like that was fast but i will take it.... and idc if its just to couple everyone up on the show idc idc milly ily

[so-you-melted-22]

currently making agressive eyecontact with that fucking scp quote in the description of a call of duty fanfic

[hauntingblue]

They are treating Vash worse than jesus christ

[thevermingod]

I have way too big of a garden for a small family that barely even eats veggies so now my coworkers get a box of free veggies once a month

[velarisdusk]

Thawing Boundaries

Hockey AU | Azriel x Reader x Rhysand

Series Masterlist Part 1 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 3 - Melted Resolve

word count: 11.7k content: there's so much in this one i'm bound to miss a few [ explicit sexual content, PIV (protected, a shocker for me i know), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), voyeuristic elements, dirty talk, degradation, biting/marking, choking, light slapping, public sex (locker room setting), threesome, dominance/submission, infidelity | forced proximity, emotional conflict, dub-con (but reader does want it i promise), injury mention, strong language, and (very light) emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping ] summary: After tension from a failed move at practice leads to a teammate's injury, you and Azriel unexpectedly meet in the locker room. As you share a heated moment, a surprise arrival heightens the stakes, leading to a steamy, forbidden encounter that leaves you questioning your choices and their consequences. author's note: AAAAAAAAA? tysm for all the love on Ice Cold Jealousy, this was so fun to write i hope yall like it >;) i might've gone too hard on the dirty talk depending on the type of person you are but idc it's hot OH and i PROMISE these wont all take place in the locker room lmfao, it's just where the plot took me. also, no dp dont get your hopes up.

On the ice, chaos reigns. The game unfolds at breakneck speed, the puck zipping from stick to stick, its path unpredictable. Players shift positions in the blink of an eye, changing possession in heartbeats. Their movements are a blur of speed and precision, leaving you struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire action. 

With 15 seconds left, the Golden Spring Griffins were up 3-2. There was no need to score again — they just had to keep possession. A bunch of show-offs…

And right there was the proof. 

A pass from one of their wingers to the other, cutting it mighty close to the Snowvale Sentinels’ defensive line. He rode it along the left side of the rink for about ten feet before an abrupt 180; clockwise, getting up close and personal with the defenseman who’d chased him down the whole play. The defenseman struck his stick down between the other player and the puck, expecting him to double back around. 

Everyone expected him to double back around.

But there he was — Tamlin, you believed was his name — skating backward for a second, letting the momentum carry him along his path. And he finished out his clockwise turn. Turn back down the ice? Not a chance. It was the perfect opportunity for a spin-o-rama. What a silly name for such a calculated move. What he did next had the arena and fans watching from everywhere on their feet. 

It was common practice to pass after a spin-o-rama, the maneuver simply meant to disorient any nearby opposition if a player was ever in a tough spot. Whoever he passed to would be expected to, as quickly as possible, either go for the shot or pass to someone who could. The downside was that this not only gave the opposing team time to figure out what was happening but to adjust accordingly as well. 

So Tamlin didn’t give them that chance. 

Immediately after coming out of his spin, he brought his stick back, and in a flash, thrust it forward. You could’ve sworn you heard the blade hit the ice just before the puck, and—

Red light. Goal.

Buzzer. That’s game.  

A spin-o-rama, a risky maneuver as is, followed by a slapshot, one of the strongest but least accurate shots, as you’d heard Cassian remind his team countless times over the years.

It was all so fast.

You focus on his footwork throughout the turn, absorbing every detail.

Again, you watch, slower this time, and notice the precise angle of the blade.

Looking up, you see Tarquin attempting the very same move, Cassian standing in as an opposing player. You tap your phone screen, pausing the ESPN stream of last night’s game. You’d gotten your fill of it last night. Lifting the soup spoon from the pot to your lips, you’d very nearly burnt yourself after how badly you’d jumped at Cassian’s exaggerated gasp at the television. For what had to have been at least an hour following, you were subject to the full-volume gushes and shouts of every last one of the Vipers during their group FaceTime. They were playing the Griffins in a couple of weeks. Though they didn’t have a particularly bitter history, their rivalry always had a bit of an edge to it.

It made sense that during practice today, Cassian was on their asses more than usual. The priority for the next couple of days was to teach Tarquin and Rhysand the maneuver (while trying to master it himself), to then teach the others how to counter it. 

Practice ended over half an hour ago, but they still had some time on the ice before Phil the Zamboni Guy came out to resurface it. He was cool, if a bit grouchy-looking.

“Fuck!” 

He was fine regarding the first half of the move, but coming out of the spin, none of his slapshots made it into the net. Hell — none of them made it past Cassian. 

“Again,” he said, firmly but coolly. In response, Tarquin wordlessly skated back to his starting position down ice, head lazily flopped back and arms loose by his sides. 

“Where’s Rhys? Isn’t he supposed to be here too?” Tarquin groaned, shifting back into proper stance. 

“Rhysie’s got a little date tonight,” you could hear the smirk in your boyfriend’s voice, followed by a sound of exaggerated, definitely insincere, enthusiasm from Tarquin. 

Your phone buzzes, a text from Mor.

Karaoke tn?

Truly, you had plans. Plans to stay home and watch bad TLC shows with a large bottle of chilled wine. But really, how bad would it be? You’d be drinking either way. Karaoke is not a sober activity.

uhh

where at?

After a few moments, another buzz, a text with an address, followed by a “Pleaseeeee (y/n), it’s so fun when you come :( I need someone to debrief and shit talk with after.” You roll your eyes with a small snort. Tapping on the address link, the map opens to show you it’s a nice little spot downtown, hopefully better than the sketchy karaoke place you’d followed her to last time.

sure why n-

Your screen goes black. You sigh, realizing you’ve drained your battery watching replays and scrolling through socials during the long practice session. 

Bringing your gaze back up, you notice the palpable frustration radiating from both men. You’ve never seen Tarquin so angry during practice; things usually came quite easily to him. When his next slapshot makes it past Cassian but bounces off the crossbar, you’re stunned. Even more shocking is the feral growl that echoes throughout the arena. You watch, astonished, as he violently hurls his helmet onto the ice. He skates off, fuming, before storming off down the hall. To cool down, you presume. 

Cassian skates over to you, and you meet him at the players’ bench to avoid talking through the glass.

“That move is gonna give us all hell,” Cassian sighs, removing his helmet and running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

You nod sympathetically. “It looked tricky. Tarquin seemed pretty frustrated,” you say, stating the obvious. You both share a knowing smile. 

“Yeah… But we’ll get it down,” he says, determination creeping into his voice. “Can’t take as long as the backhand saucer pass with Eris. Remember how many times he nearly took Az’s head off before he got it right?”

You chuckle a bit at the memory. He’d gotten the pass down fairly quickly. The issue was applying it. They’d spend about a week of practice setting up different game situations for him to practice the move. 

Azriel got hit with the puck several times. 

“You look good out there,” you told him with a coy smile. 

“When do I not?”

“When you’re being a narcissist,” you scoff. A blatant lie; he knew you liked your men cocky.

Cassian leans closer, a roguish grin spreading across his face. “Narcissist? Please. It’s not narcissism if it’s true.” He winks, then adds in a lower voice, “Besides, I seem to recall you enjoying my… confidence quite thoroughly last night.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “And here I thought your ego couldn’t get any bigger. Guess I’ll have to find a way to take you down a peg or two later.”

Cassian leans against the boards, his grin widening. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease, mirroring his posture.

He relents, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You’re something else, babe, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” you reply with a wink. “Though usually by guys who can’t keep up.”

“Oh, I think I manage just fine,” Cassian counters, a glint in his eye.

You’re about to respond when his stomach lets out an audible growl. He looks down, slightly embarrassed, and you both chuckle, the moment lightening.

Cassian says, rubbing the back of his neck, “What are you thinking for dinner tonight?”

“Oh, actually,” you start, “I’m going to karaoke with Mor. And some of her friends, I think? I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

Cassian nods, “Sounds fun. Tell Mor I said hi.”

“My phone died while I was texting her. Mind if I use yours to let her know?”

“Sure thing,” Cassian replies, reaching over the wall for his duffel.

Suddenly, the sharp sounds of blades scraping ice cuts through the air. You both turn to see Tarquin charging full speed with the puck toward center ice. His helmet’s off, hair windswept, determination etched on his features. You can’t help but admire the raw athleticism on display as he turns his back to the goal, his footwork mirroring Tamlin’s from the video. 

You inhale sharply. As he initiates the spin, his blade catches the edge of the puck instead of gliding past it. In a split second, his ankle twists at a sickening angle. His body, still carrying the momentum of the spin, topples sideways. You watch in horror as Tarquin crashes onto the ice, a cry of pain echoing through the arena.

Tarquin clutches his ankle, his features twisted in distress. Cassian immediately rushes towards him. You follow, carefully stepping onto the ice, your shoes sliding slightly as you try to keep your balance.  As you near, you hear Rhysand’s voice from the direction of the locker room. “What happened?” he shouts, running towards the scene. 

Rhysand, more sure-footed, reaches you first. As you slip slightly on the ice, his hand finds your lower back, the other on your shoulder, steadying you as he moves swiftly by. He slides to his knees the last few feet, joining Cassian at Tarquin’s side. You follow, more cautiously, moments later. 

“You gotta let me get a look at it bro,” Cassian tells him, face grim as he gently probes at Tarquin’s ankle. He moves his hand, and Cassian carefully unlaces Tarquin’s skate. The process is slow, each tug causing him to wince. His eyes, usually so bright, are now clouded with pain, making your heart ache a little at the sight. When Cassian finally eases the skate off, you all grimace. It’s silent save for the breath you suck in through your teeth. The two men kneeling over Tarquin shoot you a look, and you mouth a small “sorry”. How were you supposed to know they were trying to keep calm? It’s not like Tarquin was some fragile rookie who couldn’t handle it. 

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Tarquin tells them, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring a bit in pain when Cassian tries to move his ankle. “Probably just a sprain, right?”

His ankle is already swelling, an angry red color blooming across the skin. The area around the bone looks puffy and distorted. 

“Yeah… Yeah, probably—help me get him to my truck,” Cassian says to Rhysand, his voice tense with worry. With Cassian supporting his legs and Rhysand at his shoulders, Tarquin cradles his ankle as they lift him. It’s a bit awkward with only one of them in skates but they manage. 

As they carry him towards the exit, Tarquin calls out to you, his voice strained with pain. “(Y/N)! Can you grab my phone from my locker? 1418, combination’s 19-21-13.”

“Got it,” you reply assertively, already turned away. You call back to Cassian, “Just go, I’ll meet you there!”

You hurry down the hallway, your mind racing faster than your feet. The image of Tarquin’s swollen ankle flashes in your mind, making you cringe. How bad was it really? A sprain could mean a few weeks of recovery, but if it was fractured or worse…

As you near the locker room, you force yourself to focus. 1418, 19-21-13. You repeat the numbers in your head, determined not to forget them in your rush. 

The quiet empty corridor feels eerie after the chaos on the ice. You find yourself wondering how Tarquin is holding up, if he’s in much pain. A pang of sympathy hits you — you’ve seen how passionate he is about the game, how hard he pushes himself. Memories of his intense focus during practices, the way his muscles flex as he glides across the ice, his infectious smile, the droplets of water trailing down his chest after a shower…

You quickly push those thoughts aside, feeling a mix of guilt and a confusing thrill at the unbidden images. 

Reaching the locker room door, you push it open without hesitation, your eyes already scanning for locker 1418. 

You spot it quickly enough, your fingers flying over the combination lock. 19-21-13. The locker swings open with a metallic creak. You rummage through the contents, pushing aside gym clothes and equipment until your hand closes around the familiar shape of a phone. 

As you’re about to shut the locker and race back to your car, something catches your eye. Pinned to the inside of the door is a Polaroid — one you took at the team’s annual log cabin retreat last year. The guys are shirtless, grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Cassian stands in the middle, all flexed biceps and confidence, Rhysand to his right and Tarquin on his left with matching, easygoing smiles that you’ve internally swooned at more than once. Azriel, always a bit more reserved than the others, stands slightly behind them, his eyes soft with a rare moment of unguarded joy. Helion and Eris flank the group, their expressions reflecting a mix of mischief and amusement. That was moments before they’d picked Cassian up and thrown him into the lake. You can’t help but smile, remembering the weekend’s camaraderie and the close quarters, the obstacle course that left you all covered in mud and laughing, the impromptu swimming races in the lake, and the countless moments of playful teasing. The cabin’s single bathroom had led to more than a few flustered encounters. You’d lost count of how many times you’d rounded the corner, only to collide with one of the guys fresh from the shower, hair dripping, towel barely clinging to their hips. Each of them had caught you off guard at least once over the years, leaving you to save face and will yourself not to stare.

Your reminiscing is abruptly cut short by a strained sound echoing through the room. You freeze, suddenly aware of the steady hiss of running water. How long have the showers been on? You were so focused on finding the phone, you hadn’t even noticed… Another noise like the last, this one a bit louder. 

Concern creeps in as you wonder if someone else has gotten hurt. First Tarquin, now this? What is it with today? Cautiously, you move towards the showers, ears straining for any more sounds. The rush of water grows louder as you approach. Only the stall at the far end, against the back wall, is running. You notice a small gap between the curtain and the wall, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes are drawn to it. 

Through the narrow space, you catch a glimpse of Azriel. His back is turned, muscles tense, shoulders slightly hunched, his head bowed. There’s a rhythmic quality to his movements that takes you a moment to comprehend. When realization dawns, you feel heat rush to your face.

You know you should leave, give him privacy, but you find yourself frozen in place. The steam seems to thicken the air around you, making it harder to breathe. Suddenly you’re acutely aware of your quickening pulse and the warmth spreading through your body.

Azriel’s back muscles ripple with each movement, the water cascading down his tanned skin, highlighting every ridge and contour. His left hand is splayed flat against the wall for support, fingers flexing slightly every now and then. The muscles in his arm contract and release, contract and release. His right hand, lower and out of view, works in a steady, practiced motion.

You can’t tear your eyes away from the interplay of muscles across his shoulders and back. His wet hair clings to his neck, droplets trailing down to join the rivulets streaming along his spine. Your gaze travels further downward, following the water’s path over the powerful curve of his glutes, the firm muscles clenching with each movement. His legs, strong and slightly apart for balance, show every shift in weight and tension, every flex and release. 

The sight is intoxicating. A flush creeps up your neck, a reaction that’s as involuntary as it is intense. Azriel lets out a low, throaty sound of pleasure, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’re rooted to the spot, every sense heightened. The steam swirls around you, seemingly thickening the air, making it harder to breathe. The sound of water rushing fills your ears, drowning out rational thought. You can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, the sheer presence of him a magnet pulling you closer.

Suddenly, Azriel’s movements still, and you notice the subtle tension in his muscles. He turns his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his profile. For a moment, you hope he hasn’t seen you, but then his eyes lock onto yours through the small gap. His gaze is intense, piercing, and you can see the realization dawning in his expression.

You feel your heart stop, your breath hitching in your throat. The room seems to shrink around you, the air heavy all of a sudden. Azriel’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Didn’t expect company,” he says, voice low and husky, cutting through the sound of the shower like a knife.

You stumble back a step, heat flooding your face. “I— Fuck, I’m sorry,” you push out, unable to tear your eyes away from him. From those eyes. He doesn’t move, just continues to watch you, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. 

You finally force yourself to move, turning quickly and beelining for the door. “I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to—” you stammer over your shoulder, your heart racing. You reach for the door handle and tug, but it doesn’t budge. Panic flares as you yank harder, but it’s stuck. You slide Tarquin’s phone into your jacket pocket to use both hands.

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath, trying not to think about what Azriel must be thinking of you right now. 

You hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Your pulse quickens as you keep tugging on the door handle. “You don’t have to pretend it’s locked if you wanna stay in here with me, y’know,” Azriel’s voice comes from behind you, closer now.

You glance back to see him walking towards you, a towel in hand, drying his forearms and hands. The towel barely preserves his modesty, exposing everything from his muscular thighs to the sharp cut of his hip bones and a tantalizing glimpse of his V-line. He’s casual, almost nonchalant, but his eyes never leave yours, dark with amusement and something more.

“I was—” you start, but he cuts you off, raising a brow.

“Enjoying the show?” he asks, voice smooth and teasing.

You manage to arch a brow as well, trying to maintain some of your dignity as you respond, “Didn’t realize you were putting on a performance.”

Azriel chuckles, a deep, rich sound. “For you, (y/n)? I’d put on a private performance anytime.”

You feel your face start to heat up again, but you keep your composure. “How generous of you.”

He grins, finally wrapping the towel around his waist, the movement slow and deliberate. It takes everything in you to keep your gaze from traveling downward. “I aim to please,” he says.

You gesture to the door with your arm. “Since you’re so helpful, how about getting this door open?”

Azriel steps closer, lightly brushing his fingers against your arm as he moves you gently aside. “Let’s see what we have here,” he murmurs, his touch making its way to your waist and lingering a moment longer than necessary.

He gives the handle a firm tug. It doesn’t budge for him either. After a few more tries, he furrows his brows at it, as if it’ll give him an answer. “You weren’t kidding…”

“Shocking, I know,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

As he continues trying the door, you can’t help but be captivated by the muscles rippling in his arms, each sinew flexing with effort. Your eyes wander to the brutal scars crisscrossing his hands, remnants of a fateful game well before your time with the team. But you can’t help but imagine how those roughened fingers would feel inside you. The thought has you biting your lip to keep from sighing.

Azriel’s movements falter, and he glances back at you, a smirk playing on his lips. You quickly divert your eyes, feeling the intensity of his gaze. His smirk widens as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming. He places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck gently before his grip tightens, almost possessively. “Catch your attention?” His voice drops to a whisper, the rasp sending jolts of arousal through you. 

“Come on, Az…” you murmur weakly, turning your head away from him. His hand moves from your shoulder to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he asks, head cocked as he leans in to whisper in your ear. “You can never keep your eyes off of me for long, you make it so obvious.”

Your breath hitches as his fingers trail down your arm, sending a chill through your body. He leans in even closer, his lips almost grazing your skin. “Are you imagining what I could do for you that he can’t? Because I think about it more than I care to admit,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. 

Cass.

Your mind screams his name, but your body is rooted to the spot. Cassian is waiting for you, the urgency of the situation pulling at you like a lifeline. Yet here you stand, trapped in Azriel’s intoxicating presence, the steam in the air persistent. 

“You look tense, (y/n)” Azriel pulls back, his voice low and smooth, a dark melody that raises goosebumps across your skin. His hand moves to your waist, fingers tracing the curve of your hip over your skirt. “Is it because of Cass?”

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. “Azriel. I need to go. He’s waiting for me.”

Azriel’s lips curl into a knowing smile as his hand slides lower, toying with the hem of your skirt. “Is he?” he asks, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches as his fingers dip beneath the hem, just enough to tease, “Az, please,” you murmur, though the conviction in your voice is waning.

“Please what?” Azriel’s hand moves with slow, deliberate intent, his touch both tender and possessive. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”

Your mind is a whirlwind as his touch makes your pulse race. “Cassian,” you whisper, almost a plea. 

“Cassian doesn’t have to know,” Azriel whispers, his voice dripping with reassurance, each word a gentle caress against your skin. “It’ll be our little secret. I promise.”

You should resist, should want to resist, to pull away and run to Cassian. But his hand slips up, under your skirt, fingers brushing over the thin fabric of your tights. Your body betrays you, squeezing your thighs together, a barely perceptible, breathy whine escaping you.

“We can’t,” you breathe out with a barely visible shake of your head, but you don’t push him away. 

“And why not, hm?” He sounds like he’s hardly there, enraptured by the trail of his fingers when they find the waistline of your tights, slipping just beneath the hem to caress your skin directly. 

You grab his wrist to stop him, and it’s only then that you tear your eyes away from his to look at the sight. His hand is under your skirt, the fabric draped over his wrist. The fabric is lifted just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your underwear if he were to lower his gaze. 

Your heart pounds as you struggle to maintain your resolve. “This isn’t right,” you whisper, your voice betraying the war raging within you. 

Azriel’s fingers pause. “Isn’t it?” he asks softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “It feels right, doesn’t it?”

His tone is gentle, almost coaxing. “We’re just sharing a moment,” he continues, his breath warm against your skin. “No one has to know.”

Your grip on his wrist weakens, the conflict within you intensifying with each second. His words, his touch — they’re all weaving a spell around you, pulling you closer. 

Azriel senses your hesitation and presses his advantage, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements. “Just let go,” he whispers, his voice a dark promise. “Let me make you feel good.” 

Your resolve crumbles as his touch becomes more insistent, his fingers tracing patterns of fire on your skin. The forbidden thrill of his touch, the intoxicating promise of pleasure — it’s too much to resist.

With a soft gasp, you finally give in, your back arching as your chest presses into him. “Azriel,” you breathe, but it’s different than before. This time, his name tumbles from your lips as both a surrender and a plea. 

Azriel’s smile is triumphant as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming freely now, exploring every inch of you. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this heated, forbidden moment.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this. Part of your mind screams at you to stop, to push him away, but the way his hands move, the way his lips taste… It’s intoxicating. The guilt gnaws at you, but the desire is overwhelming, drowning out any sense of right or wrong when his hand slips further into the waistband of your tights, his fingers brushing against your panties. He rubs you through the fabric, and as a soft moan escapes your lips, a groan leaves his. The sensation is electric, a pleasure and forbidden thrill that makes your knees weak. You clutch at his shoulders, torn between the need to push him away and the desire to pull him closer.

You gasp, his name a breathless whisper on your lips. He responds with a low, satisfied hum, his fingers working, pushing you further into your haze. His touch is both gentle and demanding, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You feel his warm breath against your neck as his lips trail down, leaving a blazing path in their wake. Your body craves more, hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm against his hand. He doesn’t stop, each stroke deliberate and intoxicating. Your breaths come faster, and you tangle your fingers into his still-dripping hair, pulling him back up for a frenzied kiss.

Desperation takes over as you both rush to tear off your clothes. Your jacket falls to the floor with a distant thud, Tarquin’s phone still in the pocket. The sound barely registers in your mind, consumed as you are by the urgent need to feel Azriel’s skin on yours. His hands move with practiced ease, pulling your shirt up and off, your lips hardly separating. His fingers work deftly at the clasp of your bra, and with a single motion, it comes undone, falling away to reveal your bare skin. 

As you kick off your shoes, his lips are already back on your neck, biting, licking, aching for a taste. You step backward, the backs of your thighs brushing against the wall as he tugs down your skirt and tights in one forceful, fluid motion, the urgency in his actions mirrored by your own racing heartbeat. Each step backward leaves a piece of clothing discarded. He pauses, his eyes dark with desire as he takes you in, then his fingers resume their exploration, sliding beneath your panties to rub you directly. You gasp, arching further into his touch, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his fingers. He pulls back his hand, peeling away and discarding the last bit of cloth. He lifts you then, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. As you both step towards the shower, you hear the soft thud of Azriel’s towel hitting the floor. He guides you closer, the anticipation building with each step. The spray of water hits your skin, and for a moment you're confused.

Azriel’s voice, low and reassuring, cuts through the hiss of the water. “Some privacy,” he murmurs against your lips, a sly smile playing on his face. “In case we get rescued.”

The water cascades over you both. You cling to him, lost in the sensation, the guilt and doubt taking a backseat. His hands roam freely, caressing every inch of your body with a possessive tenderness. His lips trail down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His fingers find your clit again, circling in slowly, teasingly. You moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss.

“You feel so good around my fingers,” Azriel growls against your lips. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your breaths are nothing more than shallow gasps, each one punctuated by the delicious friction of his fingers. “Az,” you moan, trying to keep your voice low. “I need more.”

He smirks, his lips brushing against your ear. “Oh, are you going to beg for it?” A deep hum. “I want to hear those sweet little moans louder, baby, can you do that for me?”

You can’t help but comply, your moans finally growing from whispered gasps as his fingers move faster, curl harder. “Fuck— Yes, Azriel, right there,” you choke out, the last remnant of common sense in you still minding your volume. 

“That’s it,” he purrs. “You’re so fucking perfect like this, falling apart on my hand.” His thumb steadily circles your throbbing clit. 

Your hands grasp at his shoulders for something to anchor yourself with as the pleasure builds. “Please Az,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need. “I’m so close,” you tell him, a hint of disbelief in your tone.

“Come for me, angel,” he commands, a glint in his eyes. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

Your body tenses, the pleasure cresting, and you let out a strangled cry, a hand over your mouth stifling it. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, and his name spills from your lips, a breathless chant, as he continues to touch you, prolonging the pleasure.

“That was… wow…” you pant as you come down from your high.

“Good,” he says, his fingers slowing but not stopping. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you can respond, he moves his hand from your breast to your mouth, holding his fingers up to your lips. “Suck,” is all he says. And you do. You take his fingers in, swirling your tongue around them, coating them in your saliva. “You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, looking down at you with slightly parted lips. “So perfect.”

He pulls out of you, but just as you’re about to whine around his fingers at the loss, you see him bring them to his own mouth, and you whine at that instead. He groans and his eyes roll back when he tastes you, and the sight sends a rush of need to your core. “Azriel,” you mumble around his fingers, the word muffled. 

“Shh, angel,” he soothes, his voice a low rumble. “Just let me take care of you.” His fingers leave your mouth, trailing down your body. Both of his hands come to rest on your hips, squeezing the flesh there. He turns you suddenly, pulling your back flush against his front, and his arms wrap around you. One hand slides between your legs, resuming its torment, while the other moves to cover your mouth.

“Quiet now,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want anyone walking by outside to hear us, right?”

You nod, hardly processing what he’d said. Your concentration is set on the feel of his toned abdominal muscles pressed against your back. 

“You said Cass was waiting for you, right?” he whispers in your ear, the sensation without being able to see him being all the more delicious, but your eyes widen at his words. You let out a frustrated groan, much louder than the noises you made before, though it’s muffled by his hand. “Doesn’t seem like you care too much anymore… What if he comes looking for you? Hm? What then? Gotta keep quiet for me, okay?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “For all we know, he could be right outside the door, worried sick about his sweet little (y/n).”

Your heart races at his words, fear and excitement coursing through you. Azriel’s fingers move faster, his hand stifling your moans. “Imagine the look on his face if he found you like this,” he continues. “So needy, so desperate for my touch.”

You shiver, his words igniting a forbidden thrill within you, far surpassing the teasing and casual touches Cassian permitted them all. “Please…” It’s so muffled behind his hand, but he hears you perfectly.

“Please what?” he murmurs, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Please make you come again? Or please stop before Cassian catches us?”

Your mind is a whirlwind, the thought of Cassian finding you like this both terrifying and exhilarating. Azriel loosens his hand long enough to hear your response. “Make me come,” you finally whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Azriel.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, his fingers moving with relentless precision. “I want to feel you come for me again.”

You’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm, every nerve ending alight with sensation. The only sounds in the room are the running water, your ragged breaths, and the wet, slick sounds of his fingers working in and out of you at a punishing speed. Just as you’re about to reach the peak, you hear it — a faint squeak of a sneaker on the tiled floor.

Your eyes snap open, panic mingling with the pleasure. Azriel falters for a beat, barely half a second, but doesn’t stop, his hand tightening over your mouth. “Shh,” he whispers right into your ear, his voice dark and heavy with authority. “Don’t make a sound.”

You’re caught in a delicious torment, the fear of being seen only heightening your arousal. The footsteps grow louder, and closer, and then, abruptly, the curtain is yanked open.

Rhysand stands there, eyes wide with shock, then with something else as his eyes rake over your body. His eyes meet yours, then shift to Azriel behind you, his hand still buried between your legs, still moving in and out. A smile creeps onto Rhysand’s face and he crosses his arms, leaning against the wall with a short breath of a laugh. 

“Does Cass know you’ve got her here like this?” He juts his chin at you.

Azriel smirks, his fingers still working inside you. “What do you think?”

Rhysand chuckles, his eyes roaming over your body with a detached curiosity. “You think he’ll have you skate lines for this?” he muses. His gaze travels up and down your form, lingering on the places where Azriel’s hands are touching you, but his face remains a mask of calm. Yet you notice his knuckles turning white where he’s squeezing his hands into tight fists. 

“Probably. And you’d probably be right there next to me just for seeing her like this,” Azriel replies nonchalantly, only a hint of the raspiness he spoke to you with before remains. “But I think it’s worth it.”

Rhysand nods, his eyes darkening with a predatory gleam. “She’s quite the sight isn’t she?” he says, as if you weren’t even there, as if you were nothing more than a piece of art to be admired and discussed. His gaze meets yours, and you see the raw hunger lurking beneath his cool exterior. It excites you, makes your muscles clench around Azriel’s fingers. 

Azriel hums in agreement, fingers curling inside you, drawing a muffled moan from your lips. “Cass is lucky to have her.”

Rhysand's eyes remain fixed on you, a predatory gleam in their depths. He doesn't say anything more, just watches intently as Azriel continues his ministrations. You cling to Azriel's arms, your nails digging into his skin, the need to come overwhelming you.

"That's it, angel," Azriel murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "Get yours, go ahead."

You can see Rhysand hardening in his pants, his cool demeanor betraying nothing but his body telling a different story. The sight only heightens your arousal, pushing you closer to the edge. 

With a final, desperate cry, you shatter around Azriel's fingers, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He holds you through it, his fingers never stopping until you're trembling and spent.

As you come down from your high, Rhysand steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Mind if I join?" he asks, but his question is directed at you, not Azriel.

You hesitate, the conflict clear in your eyes. Azriel tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "It's okay," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "You want this, don't you?"

You swallow hard, then nod slowly. Rhysand's eyes darken with satisfaction as he begins to strip, his movements unhurried.

Azriel’s fingers finally slip out of you, and he gently guides you to lean back against the shower wall and he kneels before you, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. The warm water cascades over you both, heightening the intimacy. Between your thighs, eyes locked on yours, he starts to kiss a trail up your inner thigh. “You’ve been such a good girl for me,” he murmurs against your skin. “You ready to be good for Rhys too?”

Rhysand, now fully undressed, steps into the stall with a lazy confident stride. He lowers himself beside Azriel, his eyes devouring the sight of you. You can’t help but look away from the sight of both of them admiring your most intimate parts. “Look at you ,” Rhysand says, his voice dripping with approval, and you whine in embarrassment as he spreads your sex. “So beautiful.”

Azriel’s mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and you gasp, your hands tangling in his hair. Rhysand stands, his hands cupping your breasts with a thumb circling your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. “So fucking good,” he murmurs, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His lips are even softer than you imagined, his hands both tender and firm, exactly as you’d fantasized. Azriel’s tongue works with expert precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Rhysand’s hand trails down your body, his fingers joining Azriel’s mouth between your legs, and the combination of their touches drives you wild. 

“Does that feel good, angel?” Azriel asks, his voice vibrating against your core. 

You nod, unable to say anything more than a quiet ‘uh-huh’.  Rhysand’s lips travel to your neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin there. Your heart shoots up into your throat, hoping they thought about leaving you free of any marks. “You look so perfect like this,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. “Tell us what you need, darling,” Rhysand says softly, gently. 

“Both of you,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling. “I need both of you.”

Azriel’s laugh is low and wicked as he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with amusement, chin slick with your wetness. “Hear that, Rhys? She can’t get enough — she’s fuckin’ begging for it.”

Rhysand’s fingers trail slowly over your skin, away from your most sensitive, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I know, so needy,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Poor Cassian. Does he know what a slut you are for us? How you’re dripping and ready the second we touch you?”

Azriel’s hands move to your hips, gripping them firmly. “I bet he’s pacing right now, worried sick about his sweet little (y/n),” he taunts, his breath fanning over your pulsing cunt. “And here you are, begging for us to fuck you. Does that make you wet, (y/n)? Knowing he’s waiting?”

You whimper, the heat of their words igniting your shame. “I don’t— It— No,” your eyes turn glassy with tears. You should leave, should somehow get through that door and run to Cassian and confess everything, beg for his forgiveness, and pray he doesn’t leave you for betraying his trust. But the need, the raw desire coursing through you, Azriel’s face between your legs, keeps you rooted to the spot. Before you can wonder how Rhysand even got in, he speaks up, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look at you, stuttering and trembling. You can’t even admit it to yourself, can you? That being a good, filthy little slut behind his back turns you on.”

Azriel chuckles against your core, the vibrations sending shivers through you. “He’s right, isn’t he, angel? Answer him,” he commands, tongue and fingers working in tandem. Then Rhysand’s lips suck and bite at your breast, his hand squeezing at the other. It all pushes you to the brink of your sanity. You can’t deny it anymore. The very thought of betraying Cassian while being worshipped by his two best friends, their words and touch stripping away your hesitance, is intoxicating. The way their voices tease and command, the way their hands and mouths worship your body — every sensation, every whisper, is a direct line to your deepest desires. 

With a moan, you finally give in, your voice barely more than a breathless murmur as a single tear falls from your eye. “Yes… God, yes, it turns me on so much…” Your admission hangs heavy in the air for a few moments. Azriel’s eyes gleam with a dark satisfaction, and Rhysand’s smirk widens as if he’s just won some grand prize. The air around you crackles with their shared triumph, and they each seem to revel in having been able to extract the confession from you. 

Rhysand’s fingers continue to slide over your skin, his touch commanding and sure, and Azriel shrugs your leg off his shoulder as he stands and steps aside. “Want to feel her, Rhys? She’s perfect.” He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, pushing his middle and ring fingers into you, a groan escaping him at the feel of you.

“Damn… I can’t wait to stuff you full, (y/n). Do you want that? Want us both to fuck you so good, don’t you?”

You must have whined out your boyfriend’s name, because Azriel’s voice adds, “You know we won’t tell if you don’t. Cassian doesn’t need to know about this, right?” His hand comes up to move a wet strand of hair from your face and stays on the back of your neck, thumb rubbing your skin soothingly. 

Rhysand’s fingers pump into you deeply now. Their faces are both so close to yours and it takes everything in you to continue to listen to what they’re saying. “That’s right, darling. It’s our little secret, just the three of us.”

“You’re doing so well, angel,” Azriel praises. “Just let Rhys take care of you. We’re here for you.”

“Cassian doesn’t need to know. It’s just us.”

“No one else needs to be involved. It’s our little secret.”

Their voices are thick with charm. It’s meant to soothe, to let you know this is a safe space where your desires are understood and indulged. You find yourself lost in their promises, in their intoxicating reassurance. It all creates a heady mix of emotions, drawing you deeper into the experience and further away from any thoughts of right or wrong.

Suddenly, Rhysand lifts your leg, hooking your knee into the crook of his arm. You gasp in surprise, hands grasping for any point of contact with them to keep yourself from falling. One grabs Rhysand’s bicep, the other lands on Azriel’s shoulder. His voice grows more urgent as he teases your slit with the head of his cock, his breath hot and demanding. “Remember, this is all for you. It’s just us making sure you get everything you want. Okay?”

It’s silent save for the spray of water around you all, and their eyes bore into yours expectantly. They were waiting. If you really didn’t want to do this, this was the moment to give the word. But the intensity of their gaze, the heated promises in their voices, and the way their bodies are pressed so close to yours make it nearly impossible to think clearly. The urgency in Rhysand’s voice and the steady reassurance from Azriel leave you trembling in anticipation. The pressure of their touches, the pleasure, the guilt, the need.

A soft, trembling “Yes” escapes your lips, barely audible, but it’s enough. Rhysand’s eyes light up with satisfaction, and he immediately begins to position himself more firmly, his movements confident and assured. 

Azriel’s hand continues to soothe your neck, his thumb stroking gently as he leans in closer. “That’s it,” he sighs absently.

But you reach out and grab Rhysand by the wrist, stopping him. Their expressions shift to confusion; surprise and concern evident on their faces. You pause, a note of urgency in your voice. “Condom,” you manage to say, clearly and firmly. 

Their features seem to relax a bit at that. They exchange a glance, and Azriel nods slightly before stepping away to fetch condoms from his locker.

Rhysand takes the opportunity to lean in closer, a genuine softness in his eyes as he looks at you. He gently places a hand on your cheek, his expression turning serious. “(Y/n), if you’re having any second thoughts, you can tell us. We can stop right here if you’re not completely sure, if you’re not comfortable.”

He pauses, giving you a moment to respond, his gaze unwavering and sincere. “We want you to feel good and to be sure about what you’re doing. If you want us to stop, we’ll stop. No questions asked.”

You distantly hear Azriel throw a locker shut. “Rhys… If I didn’t want this, you wouldn’t still have my leg over your arm.”

Rhysand gives a soft smile. “Alright, then.” He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. It felt more intimate than the situation warranted. “Just making sure.”

Azriel returns holding a string of condom wrappers, and steps back into the shower, pulling the curtain shut behind him. Rhysand takes a foil square from him, opening it slowly. Azriel’s hands roam your body, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “We’re going to take our time with you,” he whispers, his breath against your ear. “Make sure you feel every second.”

You look down, watching Rhysand line himself back up, and your breath hitches. He’s big, the thickness of him daunting. The sight sends a thrill of anticipation through you, albeit with a touch of apprehension. He digs his fingers into your hips, the tip of his cock pushing up against your entrance. “Just relax, it’s alright,” he soothes you as he begins to push in, stretching you in ways that leave you breathless. The initial sensation is intense, pleasure and a slight burn as your body adjusts to his size. Every inch that presses into you feels like pure ecstasy. Your fingers tighten on each of them, your eyes wide and not once leaving Rhysand’s.

Azriel’s hand slides from your waist to your lower back, his touch featherlight but reassuring. As Rhysand pushes deeper, Azriel’s fingers trace the sensitive curve of your spine. He leans in, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “He’s big, isn’t he?” His other hand cups your breast, rolling and pinching your nipple. The dual sensation of Rhysand slowly filling you and Azriel’s gentle, yet firm, touch on your body makes your head spin. Azriel’s lips find the curve of your neck once again, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. The tenderness has you throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Mhm,” you moan slightly with a soft nod. Azriel, still toying with your nipple, gently grabs your chin and guides you to look back at Rhysand. 

“Tell him, angel. Tell him how you love being split open by his cock, he wants to hear it.” 

You whine, timid, as you look him in the eyes again, the violet deep enough to drown in. “You feel so good,” you manage to whisper, voice trembling. “I love how big you are, how you stretch me.”

But Azriel’s grip on your chin tightened. “Is that what I said?” His tone was domineering. 

You swallow a gasp as Rhysand settles all the way in. “I love… being split open by your cock, Rhys,” your breathing coming in pants. “So good…”

You watch his lips curl into a smug grin. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, pulling out until only the tip was in, then gently pushing himself back into you. But Azriel isn’t done. 

“Now tell him you need more, beg him for it.” You can tell he’s got a devilish grin on his face by the sound of his voice. 

“Please, Rhys, I need more,” you keen. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

Rhysand’s eyes darken with lust, his nails digging into your hips. “That’s it, beg for it,” he growls, beginning to pick up speed. His thrusts become more powerful, sending waves of pleasure through you. 

“Harder, Rhys,” you plead, your voice quivering. “I need you to fuck me harder, please don’t hold back, I need it so, so bad—Fuck!” Your brows knit together in pleasure. 

Azriel moves behind you, his strong hands sliding under your thighs. With a swift motion, he hoists you up, your legs hooked over his arms, the hold forcing your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Rhysand takes the opportunity to explore your body with his hands, one wrapping loosely around your throat and the other gently tangling in your hair. 

“You feel so fucking good around me,” Rhysand grunts, his breath puffing against your lips. “So tight, so perfect.”

Azriel’s grip on your thighs is firm, his fingers digging into your flesh as he supports your weight. “Doing so well for us, angel,” he whispers, along with other soothing words of affirmation. 

Rhysand’s pace quickens, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. His hand around your throat tightens just enough to make you gasp, his eyes locked onto yours. “You fucking like this, don’t you?” he growls. “Being used by us, being our perfect little slut.”

“Yes, God,” you moan, your voice breathless and full of need. “I love it, Rhys, you fuck me so good.” You feel Azriel’s grip tighten and Rhysand’s hips stutter at your words.

“He fucks you good, angel?” Azriel breathes out. When you nod, Rhysand sees him whisper into your ear, the relentless stream of water muffles his words, rendering them inaudible to him. 

You shake your head adamantly, the glazed-over look clearing from your eyes. “No, Cassian’s the best,” your voice is steady despite the pleasure coursing through your core with every pump in and out. “No one fucks me like he does.”

Rhysand's thrusts slow but grow more deliberate, hitting deeper with every motion. He moves his hand from around your neck only to roughly grab your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Is that so?” he murmurs, brows raised slightly. He thrusts harder, his eyes never leaving yours, determined to make you doubt your own words.

Azriel readjusts his grip on your thighs, and you can feel his hard length pressing against your ass. “Does Cassian treat you like you deserve? Like the whore you are?” Azriel asks, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Does he know how to make you tremble like this?”

Your eyes water, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. “He… he knows me better than anyone,” you manage to say, though your conviction wavers with each thrust and touch.

Rhysand smirks, his grip tightening on your hips as he increases his pace. “We’ll see,” he growls, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dominating yours.

Azriel’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. “We’re going to make you feel so good, angel,” he whispers for both of you to hear. “So good that you’ll forget all about him.”

Rhysand’s fingers dig into your flesh, his thrusts becoming more intense. “Tell us how it feels,” he demands, his breath hot against your lips. “Tell us who’s making you feel this way.”

Your mind is a whirlwind of sensations, the relentless pleasure making it hard to think. “It… it feels…” you gasp, unable to form coherent thoughts as Azriel’s lips and Rhysand’s thrusts overwhelm your senses.

 “Tell us,” Rhysand growls, jackhammering into you, a thumb playing with your clit. “Who makes you feel this way?”

Azriel’s breath is hot against your ear, his voice a seductive murmur. “Just admit it to yourself, (y/n).”

You’re teetering on the brink, the overwhelming sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You… you’re…” you stammer, the words caught in your throat.

“Say it,” Rhysand commands, his voice rough with need.

Azriel’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. 

Finally, your orgasm breaks, and you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of it. “Cassian!” you scream, the name ripped from your lips as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Tears stream from your eyes now, whether from the contrition or the sheer bliss, you didn’t know. 

Rhysand's eyes flare with anger. His thrusts become more erratic and forceful, his jaw clenched in frustration. The force of his thrusts now left the previous ones forgotten. “Cassian?” he growls, voice low and dangerous. “Was Cassian the one to make you come just now?” Without a word, he grabs you from Azriel. You wrap your legs around him. Without missing a beat, he pulls out almost entirely, leaving you gasping for breath. He slams back into you with a renewed, relentless force. The raw intensity of his thrusts makes you whimper, your body trembling from the overstimulation. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a fierce determination to make you forget everything but him.

“I don’t want you saying his name while I’m inside you, while I’m the one fucking you dumb,” Rhysand demands, his voice rough and commanding. “Look at you… A crying mess.” He pulls you down onto him with every upward thrust. “Say my name,” he demands, his tone both seductive and demanding. “I don’t care if it isn’t true, while I’m fucking you, you make me believe I’m the only one you want.”

You gasp and moan as his words cut through your tears. “Rhysand… Rhysand, you’re the one,” you whimper, barely able to form coherent thoughts. “I need you… so much.”

Behind you, Azriel’s eyes gleam with a predatory interest as he watches the intense scene unfold. His hand drifts down his body, fingers brushing against his neglected cock. He strokes himself slowly, savoring the sight of you being claimed by Rhysand, the way your body responds so eagerly to every thrust.

“Prove that I’m fucking you so stupid that all you can think about is my name. Can you do that for me? Can you forget about Cassian and make me the only one who matters?”

You nod fervently, your voice breaking. You shout a mantra of “Yes’s,” your body arching in response to his powerful thrusts. “Want you to come…”

Rhysand’s lips curl into a dark, satisfied grin as he listens to your desperate pleas. “Good girl,” he murmurs, movements growing more urgent, breathing growing heavier. “Scream my name while I come inside you,” he commands, his voice strained.

Your body is trembling from the intensity, every nerve alight with overstimulation. “Rhysand! Rhysand!” you cry out, each plea mingled with breathless moans and cries of ecstasy. “Please, don’t stop! I need more, need you to come!”

With a low, guttural sound, Rhysand finally reaches his climax. His thrusts become sharp and erratic, each one punctuated by a shudder as he fills you completely. His grip on your hips is relentless, his body convulsing with the force of his release. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re perfect. So good for me…”

As he pulls back, panting heavily, Azriel steps forward with a smirk of his own. His gaze is unwavering, and his presence feels almost predatory. He takes you by the waist, guiding you down gently. Your legs feel like jelly, barely able to support your weight, and you stumble slightly as you catch yourself against the cold tiles of the wall.

“Wait, just a sec…” you manage to murmur, still trying to catch your breath. But Azriel isn’t having any of it. His hands are firm and decisive as he presses you against the wall chest-first, pulling your hips back, and pushing your back into an arch.

“No,” Azriel’s voice is a low, fierce growl, his eyes burning with unrestrained hunger. He steps closer, his movements assertive and commanding, an almost primal need radiating from him. As he presses you against the cold tiles, your legs buckle slightly under the weight of his presence. His hands grip your waist with unyielding strength, holding you firmly in place. “No more waiting,” he murmurs, his voice rough and laced with desire. “I found you first. I’ve been waiting my turn, watching, and now I get my time with you. You’re not getting a moment’s rest.”

Your mind is a hazy whirl of pleasure and confusion, struggling to focus on anything. The remnants of your coherence slipped away at some point while you were in Rhysand’s arms — those strong arms — leaving you a trembling mess against the cold wall. You can barely think.

 “(Y/n),” he says sharply, getting your attention, or what was left of it. “I’m going to take you, right here, hard and deep, and make sure that every time this pussy gets fucked, you wish it was me doing it. Do you understand?”

Your head nods instinctively, but your voice comes out as a breathy murmur, “Y-yes… want it… need you…” Your words barely form.

Rhysand, still catching his breath, watches with a smirk. “She’s completely lost in it, Az,” he teases, stepping up next to you to run a hand over your wet hair. “I fucked you so good. That’s what you said, right?” He chuckles lowly. 

Azriel’s eyes darken as he cuts him a look, jealous when he sees Rhysand running his hand through your hair. “You did. And now you’re done,” Azriel growls, pushing his hand off of you. You whine, missing the comforting touch. He grips your hips firmly and thrusts all the way into you, eliciting a loud shriek from your lips. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his considerable size before he sets a powerful, unrelenting rhythm, each motion drawing a helpless gasp from your lips. Your legs shake and threaten to give out, but Azriel’s strong hold keeps you steady. 

“So fucked out you can’t even think, hm, darling?” Rhysand says in mock sympathy.

“Good,” Azriel mutters into your ear. “Brainless and begging for my cock.”

Without warning, Rhysand drops to his knees between you and the wall, his tongue tracing a line from your thigh to where Azriel is pounding into you. He wraps his arms around you, hands squeezing your thighs and ass, the sensation makes you gasp, your body jolting as Rhysand’s mouth latches onto your clit, his tongue swirling with expert precision. Azriel's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts merciless. “Do you think about us when you're with him? Do you wish it was our hands on you, our cocks filling you up?”

Your answer is a high-pitched moan, your mind too foggy to form words. Azriel’s hand slides up to your throat, gripping firmly but not cutting off your air. “Don’t just moan like a dumb fucking whore,” he growls, the other hand slapping your cheek lightly a few times to get your attention. He doesn’t stop plowing into you for a moment. “Answer me.”

“Yes! Yes, I think about you,” you gasp out, your voice trembling. “I want you… both of you… so bad.”

Rhysand chuckles against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, his tongue flicking your clit mercilessly. “Y’know, Cass’s probably gonna be a fuckin’ mess if he finds out what you’ve been up to, especially since he’s just sitting around waiting for you at the hospital,” he whispers, his voice laced with playful menace. “Just imagine how he’d react…”

Your response is a pitiful whine, tears mixing with sweat as you weakly call out, “Cassian… Cassian… I love him…” Your voice breaks with each syllable, the raw emotion evident in your cries.

You feel Rhysand’s smirk widen against you as he looks up and meets Azriel’s eyes. “Yeah, you love him so much that you’re here with us, right, darling?”

Azriel’s thrusts don’t falter as he grabs you by the shoulders for leverage. “We know you love him, baby. Now take this fucking cock.” And he slams into you with a force that pulls sob after sob out of you. His grip on your shoulders tightens, then shifts. One arm slides up, wrapping a firm, massive bicep around your neck, pulling you back into a headlock, his control over you absolute. Each thrust of his massive cock seems to reach even deeper into you at this angle. “You love being used by us, don’t you? Just a little slut for our cocks.”

“Yes… I love it…” you manage to gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel’s hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you cry out. “That’s right. Scream for me. Let Cassian hear how much you love this.”

He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. “Look at you, a dumb little whore, taking it so well. You like being fucked like this? Like a toy?”

“Yes… like a toy… your toy…” you whimper, your body trembling.

“Tell me how much you love it, angel. Beg for more. Beg for my cock,” he commands, his voice dripping with dominance.

“Please… Azriel… more… I need more…” you plead, tears streaming down your face.

“I bet Cassian couldn’t fuck you like this. Even when he thinks he’s being rough, he’s too gentle, isn’t he? A pretty little cocksleeve like you needs it rough, huh? Need to be reminded you’re just a hole for us to use,” Azriel growls.

“You’re nothing but a cock-hungry slut, aren’t you? Just a little plaything for us,” he continues, his words sending waves of shame and arousal through you.

Sometimes, you could swear you felt Rhysand’s tongue reach further as if he was tasting you on Azriel’s cock. The sensation is mind-blowing, pushing you deeper, if possible, into submission. Rhysand's tongue continues its relentless torment, occasionally delving deeper, tasting every thrust Azriel gives you. It's overwhelming, the combination of Azriel's cock and Rhysand's tongue driving you to the brink of insanity.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Azriel grunts, his arm tightening around your neck, making you gasp for air. “I can feel you clenching around me. You love this, don’t you? Love being filled up, love being our dirty little secret.”

“Yes… Fuck yes, Az,” you whimper, your voice raw and desperate. “I love it… love our secret.” 

Rhysand chuckles darkly, his hot breath teasing your sensitive skin. “Desperate, dripping, and fucked out of your mind for us. What would they all say…?”

Azriel's hand slides from your jaw to your breasts, roughly squeezing and pinching your nipples, adding to the exquisite mix of pain and pleasure. “I want to hear you beg for it, angel. Beg for me to fuck you harder.”

“Please… Az… fuck me harder… use me,” you plead, each word broken by gasps and moans.

He holds you up effortlessly, his strength and dominance undeniable. “I want you to scream my name,” he commands, his voice low and rough. “Scream it so loud that Cassian hears it in his fucking dreams.”

“Azriel! Azriel!” you scream, your body trembling uncontrollably as he drives you closer to the edge.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. Show me how much this tight fucking hole loves when I fuck it,” Azriel growls.

“I’m just your — fuck — your worthless slut… your cum dump, both of you…” you whimper, the words spilling from your lips without thought. “I’ll take everything you want to give me…”

Azriel’s and Rhysand’s eyes widen in shock, both momentarily stunned by your shameless, complete submission. The brief pause is charged with a dark thrill, their expressions those of surprise and deepened desire. 

Rhysand recovers first, a dark smile stretching across his face as he leans over to look up at Azriel. “You hear that, Az? You hear what she’s calling herself?” His voice is dripping with mockery and appreciation. “Tell us again, darling, I love hearing it. How much do you like being used like this?” He leans back into you, his tongue flicking over your clit with renewed intensity. 

“Love it so much…! Just want to be filled and used… Want to make you feel good…”

Azriel let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper. “Making me feel so good, angel, you’re perfect… Gonna use you up, nothing else matters but you taking what we give you, do you understand?”

You cry out a string of “yes’s!” the muscles in your body begin to shake uncontrollably. Your ears ring, the sound melding with the pounding of your heart.

Azriel’s hands slide back down to your hips, and he pulls you closer with each powerful thrust, altering the angle to hit deeper. The shift sends a jolt of intense pleasure through you, causing your body to spasm with every stroke. You gasp, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock with heightened sensitivity.

Rhysand pauses his relentless flicking of your clit, his mouth hovering just above your sensitive skin. He takes a moment to savor the sight of you trembling and gasping, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “That’s all us,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. 

Azriel’s breathing grows ragged. “Just let go and take it all. Your body’s ours to use however we want right now, huh?” The depth of Azriel’s movements, coupled with Rhysand’s teasing touch, pushes you to the edge yet again. You cry out, all desperate moans and incoherent babble. Rhysand’s tongue returns to its torment, tasting you come undone on his tongue, leaving you gasping and clinging to whatever coherence you have left. The ringing in your ears doesn’t subside until they finally relent. 

Azriel’s breaths come in heavy, ragged gasps as he slows his thrusts, satisfaction in his eyes. “You took us so well,” he murmurs, and he sounds almost as spent as you did. You both collapse against the cool tiles, bodies still intertwined, the sound of the water cascading around you. You reach out and turn the water off, the sudden silence only broken by the soft pants of breath.

Rhysand steps out for a moment and returns with a couple of towels from his locker. He hands one to Azriel, who begins to dry you off with a tender, almost reverent touch. Rhysand grins, wrapping his towel around his waist. "You kept up pretty well," he quips, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You smirk, taking the towel Azriel offers you. "I think you two just like to show off," you tease, patting yourself dry. "Always trying to one-up each other and forgetting about everyone else."

Azriel chuckles, shaking his head as he dries his hair. "Can you blame us?" he replies. "We have a reputation to maintain."

Rhysand steps closer, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and desire. "And what about you?" he murmurs, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. "You’re quite the little fox yourself."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. "Takes one to know one," you retort, enjoying the way their eyes light up at your sass.

Suddenly, you look at him with curiosity. “Wait, Rhys, what are you even doing here? How did you get in?”

Rhysand smirks, a little sheepishly. "I left my wallet and came back to get it."

Azriel chuckles. "Through the door? We were stuck in here."

Rhysand shrugs. "Oh, that door has been acting up ever since Eris jammed it last month." A look of understanding dawns on Azriel’s face.

Just then, the phone abandoned in your jacket pocket rings, jolting you all. 

Fuck.

You rush over to grab it. Your heart races as you see Cassian's name on Tarquin's phone. You answer the call, trying to steady your breath. "Cassian?”

"Hey, babe, what's taking so long? Are you on your way?"

You hesitate, then reply, "We got stuck in the locker room."

"...We...?"

"Yeah, Rhys and Az are here too."

You can hear the suspicion and jealousy creeping into Cassian's voice. "How long have you been in there? Why didn’t you call?”

“My phone is dead, remember? And I don’t know Tarquin’s password to make a call,” you explain quickly.

There’s a pause before Cassian speaks again, his tone tight. “I'll send Mor to help you out.”

You sigh, relief and anxiety mingling. "Thanks, Cass. Love you."

"Love you, too."

As you end the call, you glance back at Rhysand and Azriel, who are both watching you with a mix of concern and amusement. "Looks like Mor is on her way to rescue us," you say, trying to lighten the mood, though you can’t help but worry about your hair still being wet. She’d notice that right away.

"Better get dressed then," Azriel smirks. "Wouldn't want her to catch us like this." Rhysand chuckles, shaking his head, and you smile, the tension easing a bit.

"Definitely not..."

[nymphomatique]

finally fucking nerd miguel but he cums after 5 secs being inside you but you won’t stop and just treat him like a toy and he’ll beg because he’s overstimulated but you don’t care cause it’s not your fault he cums fast right? 😌🥰

🫠 wow i got butterflies

cw: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), reverse cowgirl, miguel can carry us idc how big you are, miguel cums early but you do NOT gaf, creampie, some praise, teeny bit of teasing, soft ending 🤫 also not proofread you guys know this by now fr. enjoy 🤭

“hey, miguel,” you whisper across from him. the two of you were at the library sharing a study table, miguel doing research on your genetic mutation paper while you shopped online. he lowers his laptop screen to look at you, still shy as ever around you. “yes?”

i look at him and smirk a little, mouthing the words ‘i wanna fuck’ to him. you can tell he immediately picks up on what you said when you see his ears redden and his head snap down to look back at the mess of books, loose paper and pens, and his laptop strewn across the table.

you stand up and put your laptop in your bag, leaving against the table waiting for him. “well?”

he packs up immediately.

back at your dorm, as soon as you two step foot inside you’ve already dropped your keys, making a move to kiss miguel rather suddenly. he drops both his backpack and your purse on the ground in shock at how hasty you’re being today. he makes haste to match your fervent attitude today, his newly empty hands coming up to your waist to hold you gently as your tongue sweeps across his own hungrily.

you pull apart from him, a small spit trail connecting the two of you together at your lips, and you bring one of your hands up, swiping off the spit from miguel’s plump and swollen lips. wordlessly, you watch eachother, each of your eyes communicating the burning need inside you both. you move your thumb from its resting place on miguel’s lip to push past the soft flesh, miguel sucking on your thumb. through his sucking, the two of you maintain eye contact and it sends a burning through you, miguel’s brown eyes void of his glasses in place for contacts staring at you with such vivid emotion. lust, want, need.

“take me to bed,” you speak, breaking the silence. “yes, mistress,” miguel responds, thumb still in his mouth. his hands move from their placement in your waist to ended your ass, his hands big, but ever so gentle with you despite how you treat him. he bends to get leverage to pick you up and as he comes back up, you jump up into him, legs wrapped around his thick frame and arms around his strong neck. he’s been going to the gym, you think.

wordlessly, miguel carries you over to your bed, the two of you pulled into a state of looking at eachother. he sits down at the edge of the bed, with you now sitting in his lap.

you push his chest so he’s laying back on the bed, and his shirt tugs up a little, revealing the small trail of hair sitting at his lower stomach and disappearing beneath his the elastic band of his boxers.

you push his shirt up and over his head, and throw it behind you. you move up to sit directly on miguel’s crotch. you’re sitting upright, your body con dress you wore riding up your thighs a bit, teasing miguel for what he’s so anxious to see. you look down at miguel, his breathing slightly quicker than average, his face painted in a light blush at the anticipation of what you two were about to do.

you bend down, laying on top of miguel now and his breathing hitches. you laugh a bit, his excitement no matter how much you do this with him a bit endearing. “you wanna know something?” you start, face hovering above his, looking down in his eyes. miguel swallows and his adams apple bobs up and down. “you’re such a good boy for me.” you start. one hand begins to trail up his lower abdomen, lightly brushing until your hand reaches his neck, resting without any pressure. “you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, that i’m finally gonna let you fuck me.” you emphasize with a curt squeeze. miguel licks his lips and lets out a steadying breath at the revelation.

“strip for me,” you say, getting off of him, ridding yourself of you dress leaving you in your pink lacy bra and thong set. miguel shucks off his pants and you watch when he pulls his boxers down, his cock springing up and hitting is lower stomach. he’s huge. you knew this, and sometimes you even indulged in miguel during oral by being vocal about how his big cock is so deep in my mouth. but knowing he was going to be inside you? a different ball park. it’s proportional to the rest of his ligaments, matching his big feet, wide hands, strapping build and towering height. you’d estimate that he’s about 9 inches long, the biggest you’ve ever taken.

aside from being big, it was so mouthwateringly pretty. it was a gorgeous tan colour matching the rest of his golden skin with a pink tip, leaking with pre cum already. two thin veins ran along the underside of him, with a trimmed black tuft of hair sitting pretty at the base. his balls were big and swollen, and with the amount he came in your mouth most days, you’re sure that he’d absolutely pump you full today.

“lay back for me,” you instruct, removing your bra and leaving only your panties on. he lays back and you sit, ass facing him in and sitting on your knees in reverse cowgirl. you look back at miguel over your shoulder and you’re sure he’s going to burst into tears at any given moment, the image of you in front of him like this, fat ass in his face with the little wet spot on your panties visible, any man with an attraction for women would look like him too.

you smirk at him, and reach behind you to move your panties to the side, exposing him your wet pussy. he lets out a stuttered breath at the image you can’t miss, and you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. you grab his cock, warm and throbbing, and align it with your entrance. you tease him first, rubbing it along your wet folds and even brushing your clit. “tell me how bad you want it, miguel.”

“so- so fucking bad. please put it in? i want- need to feel you. ple- ah! please mistress.” when he’s done his babbling you sink down on his length, moaning at the burning stretch. “h-holy shit i’m gonna-“ and you feel something hot spurt inside you.

he came inside you.

you look back at him, deadpan expression on your face. he immediately is embarrassed and his face reddens, and the babbling apology starts. but you ignore him and lift your hips to slam them back down on his cock.

miguel’s hands jump to grab your hips, sputtering out a “t-too much, oh my god.” you roll your eyes at his audacity. “not my fault you can’t hold your load, man. you’re gonna keep going until i cum, no matter how much it is, got it?” you spit back, moving your hips up and down miguel’s length, feeling him hit every spot inside you.

“so deep inside, feels good,” you moan out. your hips are aching at the stretch of miguel’s dick, but it hurts too good to stop. “so fuckin’ big, baby. makin’ me- ah! making me feel so good,”

your words of praise give miguel a boost of encouragement, his hands on your hips pulling you back down on his length, his hips meeting you half way. his heavy balls begin to slap against your clit as he thrusts up into you, and the stimulation makes you shudder.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck. cum inside me. i wanna feel you inside me, miguel,” you moan, feeling light headed at the pressure deep in your gut. your hips are starting to slow down, but miguel doesn’t relent in his thrusts. he slams his hips up to meet yours and you feel like he’s in your throat. the erotic sound of miguel’s whining moans, the slapping of your skin, and your squealing at the pleasure is beginning to overwhelm you, and you feel your whole body go white with pleasure. “o-oh my god i’m cumming,” you manage to shake out.

miguel isn’t quite finished yet, he’s still fucking up into you through your orgasm and you swear your whole body goes numb. you’re cumming again. this time, miguel speeds up and with one last final thrust, he lifts his hips up into you and cums, letting out a heavy groan. you feel him begin to fill you up, some of his cum leaking out of you and onto his pelvis.

you’re both left breathless on the bed for a moment, relishing in the after moments of your orgasm. when you finally come to, you see miguel softly breathing, eyes closed. you move to lay in the crook of his arm and kiss his cheek, falling into the same breathing pattern, falling into unconscious bliss.

[aluciahaz]

Mommy kink x reader fix for luci pls, idc the circumstances, I’m desperate here.

arent we all 😔 here u go!! it was pretty fun writing this, i love METAPHORS!!!!

touch of temptation

—lucifer x gn!reader

—includes : sub!lucifer, dom!reader, mommy kink, edging

lucifer’s been alone for quite some time now. yet, when you came around, you made sure to change that immediately.

of course, due to the absence of affection for years, he’s stuck to you like glue, always perking up when he sees you enter a room and running toward you with his stupid little grin.

albeit, adorable stupid little grin.

his desire for touch was not only apparent during daily life, always hooking his arm around you or poking you in jest, but in the nightlife as well.

lucifer was needy. desperate. his longing for touch was one you indulged in without question much of the time, yet some nights the two of you agreed upon abstaining him from such wants. he was the king of hell after all, of course, he’d be a little freaky.

which is why he was sobbing underneath your maddening touch, his head falling back as he cries in dismay from his inability to finish due to your quick reactions whenever he’d get close, pulling your hand away just in time to elicit a noisy whine from the king.

“l-let—me cum, mommy, please!” he wails as you drive into him, pushing him to the brink of insanity as your hand returns to his cock. he bucks up into your hand wildly, only to have his hips held down with a stern push.

“not yet, baby. stay strong for me,” you coo, yet your soft tone goes against your actions, sharp, fast, and most importantly, ruthless.

he snivels before taking in a deep, shuttering breath, nodding his head weakly at your request.

“o-okay! i’ll tr—AH!” his fingers dig into your skin, grasping onto your back like his life depended on it.

and it only gets rougher when you let go of his cock.

the scream of frustration that ripped from his throat was adorable, considering how it would get interrupted by his choking wails. you can’t help but place a kiss on top of his forehead, soothing him just a bit. he always melts at the slightest act of affection, it’s wonderful.

his legs wrap around your waist as though he‘s a snake trying to constrict its prey. he needed to hold onto you like this, to feel you as much as he could. you were his temptation, and he was willing to lose himself in it.

“pl-please please! mommy, i need—! ngh—f-fuck!” he pleads aimlessly, finding himself lost in his seemingly endless pleasure.

“use your words, baby,” you tell him, knowing fully well as you thrust faster that he would be unable to form a single sentence.

“ha—i, you—so goodwait—AH! c-can’t think-!” the fallen angel seemed to find his place back in heaven, considering how far up his head was in the clouds. but, he’s brought back down to hell as your hand finds its place around his shaft again, making him jolt in shock.

he whines louder and louder, tears never stopping as he takes what you give in full stride, never trying to go against your earlier command.

he was as sweet as an apple and red as one too with a never faltering blush across his face and chest. you couldn’t help but take a bite, his neck being the perfect area for a mark.

the shaky moans that leave him are beautiful, and with how well he was taking all of your love, you just had to give him his reward.

“you’re such a good boy,” you huff out a chuckle as you hear him whine in delight, soaking up the praise needily.

“you can cum for me now, my love,” you coo, drinking in his face of pure gratitude as he hears you.

“c-can i? can i re—ah—! really?” he asks as he cries in joyous disbelief, looking at you with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“yes, baby,” you say gently, and without a second’s hesitation, he shudders and screams in mind-breaking ecstasy, the horns on his head slowly peeking from his head as he finishes.

“th-thank—! thank—! thank y-you—mh—mommy!” he wails, his eyes rolling to the back of his head briefly before slowly looking back up at you with a dazed look.

his legs still tremble around your waist before slipping down to the bed, completely exhausted. you take your time to care for him, cleaning and making sure to cuddle your little touch-starved lover as quickly as you could.

he’s already asleep in your arms in the first few seconds, snoring lightly. you kiss the back of his neck delicately before heading off to rest as well.

and it would be peaceful until morning, where, like every morning, he would whine and clutch onto you to make sure you wouldn’t leave the bed, never able to fulfill his endless hunger for your touch.

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[everythingne]

you have me and I have you -- DR3

Taking the twins to meet Daniel at a race nearly ends in disaster for the youngest, luckily you remember a little saying that goes a long way for when her emotions get too big for her all weekend away from her favorite person on the planet.

daniel ricciardo x wife!mother!reader

warnings/notes: probably inaccurate f1 information (specifically with where they live but idc its my fic), i'm not going off any actual timeline of real events dude this is just vibes, maxiel content bursting out of this fic, might make this little family a series i dunno, i don't have the most knowledge of daniel's career so mind some gaps

--

You and Daniel lived an exceptionally private life--surprisingly. Alpha Tauri's home base was in Faenza, Italy. And when Daniel was announced to be driving for them, you both tossed around a few different city names until Max of all people found you both a quaint little house just outside of the main touristy parts of Ravenna.

Somehow the world champion knew the both of you would find it was a perfect spot to nestle in for the time being. You knew that once the girls really got into school, like proper schooling, you'd have to settle them near Daniel's family. That's what you'd agreed to do when you planned to return to teaching full-time, but for now, Ravenna worked beautifully.

And it was beautiful too.

You had moved and traveled a lot with Daniel due to his career, it had never bothered you in the near decade the both of you had been together. The two of you never fought, sure you argued, but nothing hateful. It was usually a 'stop overthinking this' or 'stop overworking yourself on that' and with two perfectionists who adored their careers and families it could get a bit tense. But, you loved Daniel more than anything, and he loved you just the same. So it always worked out in the end.

Three years dating, one year engaged, seven years married, five years parents. Parents. Two beautiful twin daughters, you hadn't not been trying for kids, and though the girls were a surprise, they were happily welcomed by the Ricciardo's and your family when announced. And of course their loads of F1 uncles, like Max, Yuki, Lando, and of course Pop Pop and Grannie Horner, who had just about died when the youngest of the two twins--Rosella, called them that without you or Daniel prompting her to.

"She speaks the truth!" Daniel had laughed when Geri scooped the little girl up in her arms and squeezed her, kissing her forehead. Max had just laughed for like ten minutes at Christian's face before the man finally made some remark that he was "finally old enough for that title."

And then a few months later little Penelope would do the same, with a quite similar reaction.

Life in Ravenna was perfect, and you had been blessed with a remote job that allowed you to work anywhere making your life a breeze of constant travel, love, and spending nights alongside your husband or his family and friends in lavish hotels for grand prix.

Speaking of Grand Prix, it was time to get the girls moving. The two of them, Rosella Grace Ricciardo and Sienna Michelle Ricciardo, are currently settled with their suitcases beside them in the living room as you finish unplugging the necessary items and locking up the house. Rosella was playing with her stuffed bear, idly singing some song her grandparents had been trying to teach her, and Sienna was currently trying to repack her bag that you had so meticulously put together.

"Si, stop messing with your bag, sweetheart." You try to not let any annoyance sink into your tone but fail a little as you make your way to the foyer.

"Sorry, Momma." Sienna pouts and hides in on herself, her big brown eyes and bouncy curls making you think of her father--who was currently in a car going god knows how fast on the track. Max had been the one to invite you to Miami, saying it would be good to get the girls there to surprise Daniel.

What he hadn't thought of was how hard it is to get two twins through the airport, who look exactly like Daniel Ricciardo, without raising any eyebrows because this was their first appearance at the track since they were toddlers and didn't look like much of anyone except for having Daniel's undoubtedly huge smiles.

"Hey," you say, but don't explain the sentence that brings both of your daughters immediate calm, "You have me and I have you."

The sentence, something from the night before you married the girl's father basically equated to 'we've got this, don't freak out, I'm not mad and you're gonna be fine.' and whatever else it needed to at the moment and it had been a constant in the past seven or so years of your life.

And Sienna calms herself immediately, nodding at you.

You peck a kiss to Sienna's hairline as you repack her bag, "All better, nothing to be sad about, okay?"

She nods, taking her bag and helping her sister grab her stuff as you get them out to the car. The two are pretty well-behaved by now and have learned when to do as you ask and when it's okay to play around a little. You thank Daniel for that, he'd always set a good example. Once everything is in the trunk, you secure the girls in their seats and then thank one of the women you'd become close with down the road for driving you to the airport.

Natalie grins, patting your shoulder as you settle in with a big huff, "I just wish you luck getting them through the airport by yourself! Usually, you have Michelle with you."

"Well, Michelle's unable to come to Miami because she's working, so it's just me this time!" You try to hide your annoyance at the whole situation already, but Natalie just laughs as she starts to drive through the streets of your beloved town.

"Don't stress it, those girls are too well-mannered to cause a fuss."

"I hope so." You sigh, glancing over your shoulder at the both of them.

--

The airport in Italy is a breeze, it's the Miami airport that gives you trouble with the girls because one file isn't filled out correctly. One fucking file. You end up leaving poor Geri Halliwell in the pick-up lane for like an hour while you scramble to fix it so you're not shipped off back home with the girls, who are tired and miserable and just wanna go to bed.

And you'd run out of snacks on the plane, which was another level of catastrophe as Rosella complains every two seconds she's starving and going to die while Sienna complains her feet hurt and makes you carry her around.

Luckily, the airport staff seems to take a bit of pity on you and push you through as quick as possible. You stumble out to the pick-up line to find your ride, the warm Miami air making the girls want to play a bit. Setting down Sienna you make both girls keep one hand on your suitcase as you meet Geri halfway to the car and she kneels down to give the twins hugs as they scream her name.

"So much for discreet." You huff, watching Geri happily interact with the girls. And you learn right then that she's always planning ahead (maybe it's the whole having four kids thing) as she pulls out two little baggies of packed snacks for the girls from her coat.

Once the girls spot Christian, it's game over as they sprint with their little suitcases bouncing behind them and he barely has time to kneel before they're trying to hug him.

"Lookin' good Mama," Geri grins as she picks up Sienna's discarded backpack and you laugh off the compliment as she stands, placing her hands on her hips, "I'll take it they missed us?"

"They wouldn't shut up about getting to see you guys all week after Danny left," You let her pull you into a hug as she kissed your hairline. She helps you get the girl's stuff in the car while Christian entertains the two who sit in the back seat and you end up between your daughters on the drive to the hotel.

"We rented you a room on another floor just for tonight, we figured you'd wanna surprise Danny at the race." Geri turns to talk to you as Christian drives and you nod, leaning forward so she can sit straight. Sienna's babbling to Christian about class, Rosella trying to butt in to get his attention too, and you lean your head on Geri's seat.

"Thank you guys, I'm serious when I say I'll pay you back."

"It came out of Oracle Red Bull Racing's pocket, not mine." Geri holds her hands up and you let out a soft laugh, finally feeling the weariness of the nearly twelve-hour flight.

When you make it to the hotel, Christian goes first to ensure the coast is clear, and you find they've already checked into the room so you're able to go straight up. Once inside, you thank the Horners one more time with tight hugs and a promise to bring them around to Italy soon before shutting the door.

"Momma!" Rosella whines as soon as the door is locked and dead-bolted shut, "I'm tired!"

"Me too!" Sienna copies her twin and flops on the floor and you laugh.

"Let's get you two ready for bed, yeah?" You muse, grabbing the suitcases and flipping them open, and letting the girls pick out the pajamas while you do the same with some loungewear. It's only around five at night, and you do still need to feed the girls a proper dinner, so you assume a short nap with a break for chicken nuggets before bed will be perfect.

--

You rouse from sleep to two sets of little hands hitting you, the girls giggling as they whisper, "Momma, momma!"

"Mhmn," You groan, rubbing your face, "Yeah?"

"Daddy called you, Rosella answered it like a big girl!"

"Mhm!" Rosella cheers, leaning to not-so-secretly whisper, "I didn't even tell him the big secret!"

"That's great--" You go to say sleepily and then you blink your eyes open when you hear Danny laughing over the phone and you sit up to your elbows and snag the phone from her.

"Both of you, shoo." You wave a hand and the girls shriek as you curl your fingers like you're going to tickle them and then sit up in bed.

"I swear I set an alarm." You laugh, rubbing your eyes as you check the clock--in Italy, it would be noon right now which would be typical for your afternoon nap with the girls.

"No big deal. I just wanted to call you when I was getting up for race day." Daniel yawns and you can imagine him rubbing at his face as he lets out a muffled groan over the phone, "How are you and the girls?"

"They're having a blast but being little tornadoes," You huff, "but I'm managing."

"Ah, that's my girl. Superstar mom." You can physically hear Danny's smile in his voice and it makes you laugh, when you ask him how he's doing he regales practice and qualifiers as you get yourself out of bed and grab the girls a change of clothes. Mouthing for them to get in the shower as you mute the phone so Danny doesn't hear the water as you turn it on. Walking back to supervise from the doorway you pop in a few questions here and there.

By the time the call is wrapping up, Sienna's gotten soap in her eyes, so you bid Daniel a quick goodbye as you scold Rosella for splashing her sister in the face and end the call. You double-check to make sure it's actually ended before you move into the bathroom.

It takes an hour for you to get ready, which means by the time you're bringing the girls down to meet with Geri, her kids, and Kelly and Penelope, all the drivers are making their way to the track.

But, of course, you have to run into Charles in the elevator.

"Didn't know you were gonna make it this weekend," Charles says as you step in, the girls shy away from him a little, especially Sienna who practically buries herself behind her sister. You laugh softly.

"Guys, it's just Charles." You say over your shoulder and they both peek up again before gasping and jumping over to hug him. He kneels down to the girls, accepting both of their tight hugs as you speak,

"We weren't until Max told me he got us paddock passes,"

"They're still that close, huh?" Charles stands once the girls release him and you shrug,

"I think Max feels bad for how it ended with them in Red Bull, kinda like how Lando and Daniel are still super close after McLaren because of--God, don't get me started actually." You pinch your nose, the wound of McLaren's drop of Daniel had been the most difficult part of your partnership with Daniel thus far. You hoped it stayed that way.

"I'm glad they're still close." Charles smiles and then bids you goodbye as a Ferrari employee starts scolding him in French--or Italian, or maybe both, as she drags him off in the opposite direction.

You cart the twins off to the little restaurant within the hotel, thanking the hostess who brings you to Geri and Kelly's table and you greet them with a happy smile. Once the kids are all introduced and settled, you relax and roll out your neck.

"I am exhausted." You announce and Kelly pushes a mimosa towards you, grinning, and you happily take it. Breakfast goes relatively well, Penelope wants to sit in your lap halfway through because she missed you, and Bluebell updates you on her applications for university.

The Halliwell-Horner kids are a mess of different parents, but all act just as loving as your own twins, it makes you smile as you notice Bluebell pause mid-sentence to make sure her sister ordered her food correctly and her brother has enough to drink when the waitress comes around to check on you all.

And then Sienna gasps and points at the TV, squealing at an ear-piercing decibel, "Dad!"

"Shh!" You hush her, both Kelly and Geri laughing as you try and handle the two kids who are excitedly pointing out their father on the TV. It's interviews from yesterday on replay in preparation for the race later. And the twins won't stop even with you, Geri, Kelly, and the other kids at the table (save for Geri's youngest) trying to hush them.

"Girls. Knock it off or we're going outside!" You hiss through your teeth, pointing at the two next to you, and Rosella literally screams 'no' at you.

"Good grief." You sigh, then grab her by the waist and wave for her sister to follow you. While Sienna's a little hesitant, a gentle tap from Geri makes the girl scoot off her chair and follow you and a screeching Rosella out of the small restaurant. The three of you settle on the floor as you try to calm a clearly upset Rosella, who curls into your side.

"C'mere, Si." You hold an arm out as you sit on the floor and Sienna curls into your other side. You wipe the frustrated tears off Rosella's face, she had always been attached to Daniel by the hip, you weren't sure why you assumed this would be easier for her than her sister.

"I know you guys are excited to see your dad, I know, I am too." You say to the two twins who sit in your lap on the floor in probably the nicest hotel in Miami, "I miss him just as much as you guys do but... we have to be quiet in restaurants. We can't start screaming like we're at home, okay?"

"Momma, 'm sorry Momma." Rosella sniffles and you pepper soft kisses to her hairline and wipe the tears from her face as Sienna gives her twin a hug.

"It's okay, darling, you know you have me and I have you, yeah? You just have big emotions you wanna get out, but we have to remember inside voices and that there's always a time and place for everything, okay?" You rub her back as she hiccups, big tears rolling down her face as she starts calming down with big gasps.

The girl nods, scrubbing at her face and you give her a little kiss on the top of her forehead before giving Sienna a kiss there too.

"Are we calm enough to talk now, Ella?" You say softly and the girl nods, you scoop her up and bring Sienna back in so she can sit at the table and eat, informing Geri and Kelly you'll be right back after you take Rosella on a little calm down walk.

And you end up in a little courtyard, bouncing Ella on your hip as she speaks softly as you pause at a fountain.

"And Daddy's always there when I'm sad." She recounts as she hiccups, still crying a little as you rock her and rub her back, "and I got sad he wasn't there, and then he wasn't there to make me happy, and it made me more sad."

"Oh honey, it's okay." You look over your shoulder, swearing for the third time you're seeing Lando out of the corner of your eye--which is impossible because he's at the track and you're just being paranoid.

"Big emotions come out sometimes, it's happened to me. When your dad and I got married, I freaked out on him the night before because I was so stressed something would go wrong. I screamed at him, like a full freakout," You sigh, pressing your lips to your daughter's hair before whispering, "You know what he did?"

"What did he do?" Rosella sits back so she can look you in the eyes, you bounce her up and readjust your grip.

"He held me like I'm holding you now and he said 'I know you've got big emotions and so do I, but you know what we also both have?'" You remember the way he'd pressed his lips to your hairline, hands tucking you into his body as he cradled you in the bathroom of the wedding suite in the hotel,

"And I said 'no' because I was having big emotions, and he said 'You have me and I have you.' Just like right now, Ella, you have me and I have you."

"Oh! That's why you and Daddy say that." Ella smiles, kicking one of her feet a little and you nod. She wipes the last of the tears from her eyes and you kiss her cheek, before walking back to the restaurant when she claims she's finally calm enough to eat and be a little quieter.

--

About ten thousand things are happening in the Alpha Tauri garage when you sneak in with Yuki's help. You see Daniel off to the side, talking with some engineers with a stressed expression, and instead of walking over to wrap your arms around him like you want to-- you cart the twins off to his driver's room and settle them in there.

"Should I get him?" Yuki asks once he's finally gotten Sienna to pry off his leg and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Surprise, remember?" You speak softly, hushing the giglging twins.

"Yeah, but he's..." Yuki makes a face and you roll the idea around in your head. The girls had never seen Daniel frustrated, any sort of negative emotions you and Daniel tried to keep away from them.

"How bad?" You ask, mouthing one to ten, and Yuki mouths back a solid nine. So you groan, dragging your hands down your face and holding up a hand for him to wait while you kneel down and wave the girls over.

"Listen, Ella, Si." You poke their arms playfully as they quiet down their giggles when you slowly lower your hands to the floor, "Quiet time, okay? Momma's gonna go out and see where Daddy is, and I might bring him back here, okay?"

The girls nod and you kiss both of their foreheads before leaving the driver's room with Yuki and speaking softly, "I'll come with you."

He nods and waves you along, making his way through the back hall and back into the main area of the garage where Daniel was standing with his back to you. Mouthing good luck, Yuki slips off to stand beside Daniel as they talk racing stats. You just stand for a while, watching your husband as he clearly fusses over some fudging of numbers and how the team seems to be running whatever tactic on a sort of hail-mary moment. You know he hates leaving it up to fate.

"Okay, well," Daniel groans, clearly wanting to change strategy but knowing he's unable to do so, "I don't even know."

Yuki suggests something, but it gets shot down, and then you slowly start to inch forward. You see the videographers and photographers readying themselves for the moments, cameras lifting up high as they wait for the moment or whatever line will come out of your mouth.

"This is literally just as frustrating as getting the twins to relax on a plane," Daniel complains, Yuki smirking and biting the inside of his cheek as you finally cross the room to stand behind your husband.

"I dunno, I did pretty well--"

"--Holy shit!" Daniel shouts, barreling himself into you as he sweeps you off your feet in a loud laugh, "Oh my god! Hello! What?! When did you get here?!"

He sets you down after a tiny spin and presses a long kiss to your lips before you can explain, his hands firm on your hips and your arms tossed around his neck, just like puzzle pieces.

"Max got me passes, we got in last night. Blame the entirety of Red Bull." You wave a hand and Daniel kisses you once more, arms now wrapping around you.

"Okay, fuck strategy for a moment, I need this." He says to the Alpha Tauri team who wave him off and laugh, and you let Daniel just bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the way too expensive Dior perfume he'd bought you for your birthday, and sigh out his stress.

"You have me and I have you." You murmur to him, pressing your lips to the side of his head, since it's all you can reach at this angle, a very similar angle to which his mini-me had been held in only a few hours prior.

"I know." He steps back, then blinks at you, "Wait. The twins are here too aren't they?"

"How the fuck--"

"You aren't wearing your necklace you always wear when you have someone babysit them for the weekend." He pokes the necklace you are wearing, one of your last names written in one of the prettiest fonts you'd ever seen, the gold blackened and dirty from its constant wear. A wedding gift from his mother.

"You little shit." You whisper, before turning and shouting, "Ella! Si!"

And it's like they were waiting for it because the sound of the door slamming against the wall followed by the patter of small sneakers sounds through the garage as the twins sprint to find you and their father. Their joyful screams overlap as Daniel drops to one knee to scoop both girls in his arms, fawning over their matching sundresses (custom-made to be the same color as his racing suit, as is the dress you wear) as he lifts them up to your height.

"Look at my girls." Daniel smiles, letting the twins babble on about whatever as he turns to press a kiss to your cheek, "Thank you."

"Thank Max." You step up to take Sienna from his arms so he can easily hold Rosella, but the arm you've freed snags you by the hip and pulls you close.

"There we go!" He grins at you, "All three of my girls in one place, yeah?"

And it's perfect, a little slotted puzzle piece, and regardless of if they figure out whatever issues are going on with the car you know Daniel will be loving every minute of Miami this year. Just because the three of you are there as his backbone.

[dinogoofymutated]

Please, when u have the time, more Pietro stuff 😭😭😭 ur writing for him is excellent and I need more!! Headcanons, stories, idc I just need more Quicksilver written by u.

Enemies to lovers!Quicksilver/GN!reader - pt 2

Here's part 1

It's finally here!! I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Also, I think the ending is probably the most dialogue heavy scene I've done so far, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but i wanted to post this so bad!! I might go back and edit later though. Hope you all enjoy!! TWS: Fighting, passive aggression, full on aression kinda, logan is a worried asshole big brother, Professor X watching his tragedy not quite repeat. Pietro is kinda an ass but he's a broken ass so its okay.

You and Pietro had a weird relationship. And it seemed to just spiral into even weirder territories and murkier waters. Each and every interaction tiptoed into something a little more than just enemies, and one night you think the two of you fully crossed the line. You were sure of it, and it was just the start.

    You’re finally starting to fall asleep when there’s a sudden whoosh of air and grunt of pain. It startles you, and you sit straight up in bed, leaning over to flicker on the light. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Pietro standing by the window, hunched over in clear distress.

    “Pietro? What are you doing here?” You ask, But he doesn’t respond. His suit is ripped and bloody, and various deep cuts litter his skin. You swear he’s about to pass out as he stands in front of you, swaying just a little like he did on that day at the beach. Whatever fight he had just been through, it had taken a little more out of him than that fast metabolism could heal so quickly. 

    “Are you okay?” You ask, wide-eyed at him. Pietro grimaces in a way that looks more angry than it does pained, and yet he still says nothing. Unable to deal with the idea of admitting he needs help, you assume.

    He’s sitting on your bed now, naked from the waist up as you stitch his wounds. He’s been silent the whole time, only offering a wince or grunt every now and then with particularly tender wounds. Right now you’re on your knees as you stitch up a rather deep cut on his upper side, his arms keeping his balance as he leans back on your bed.

    “Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask eventually. Pietro’s chest pulls on the stitches just a little as he huffs in annoyance, regretting the action a moment too late.

    “If I did, I would be.” He snaps. You raise an eyebrow at him as you begin a new stitch, piercing the skin perhaps a tad less cautious than you had been before.

    “Take it easy, speedster. ‘Last time I checked I was the one with the needles in my hand.” You snark. Pietro has nothing more to say to that, instead turning his head away so that he doesn’t have to look at you. It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s a bit embarrassed at this whole situation, and you feel a bit bad for him. Out of all the places he could have gone to, there had to be a reason he chose to come here. You just couldn’t tell what that reason was. 

    You’re gentle while you finish wrapping him in bandages, and he can’t seem to look you in the eyes even for a second. When you reach out to brush some dirt off of his face, he finally meets your eyes. He’s a little less guarded than he was before, but the wall between the two of you still remains. There's a quick gust of wind as he moves towards the open window, stopping just before he leaves.

    “...Thank you.” He says after a moment, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You smile at him, a warm feeling in your chest. The difference in his attitude was noticeable, and the fact that he was acting even a little less cold with you was reassuring.

    “You’re welcome.” You reply, and then he’s gone again, having closed the window behind him this time.

The difference between the two sides of Pietro you saw was so jarring. You were so used to the cocky asshole that spent all his effort in terrorizing you, not the quiet, almost angry, and guarded man that stood before you that night- and the many nights afterward.

The second time he showed up, this time woundless and simply laid on your bed to rant, you were surprised but didn’t mind it. Then it happened again, and again, and then came the board games, the nights of talking endlessly, and the midnight snacking. 

And eventually, Pietro started to climb into your bed. He never spoke a word when he did, simply pulling back the covers and pulling you close, pressing his face into the back of your neck. Nights like this were vulnerable, and tender. Quiet. He came to you in need of comfort often, and you were willing to be his safe space for as long as he wanted.

The more he came to you, hurt or angry or sad, the more concerned you became. And you were upfront about it, much to his dismay.

     “You know, I get that we’re on two different sides of things- but you know that the school’s doors are always open to those who need it, right?” You ask, late one night after he had crawled into bed by your side. You were facing him, hand curling on the pillow an inch away from his face, fighting the urge to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Immediately, he has a negative reaction to it. He scowls, recoiling away from you as he glares. You know it should hurt worse than it does, but all you can see is the hurt he's feeling right now.

    “The last thing I need is for another person to tell me what to do.” He snaps, turning his head away from you as he sits up and runs his hand through his hair, aggravated. You sit up on the bed a little further, almost wanting to reach for him, but you don’t.

    “Pietro, You know that’s not what I meant-” You say, softy.

    “Does it matter what you meant?” Pietro practically cuts you off. His tone is sharp, and it hurts you for a second. You frown at him- not that he could see it anyway, and the hurt quickly turns to aggravation on your end.

    "Yes, it does. I'm not bossing you around, I'm just telling you that the X-men- myself included- are here if you need any help." You huff, watching as he practically rolls his eyes at you and stands, looming over the bed as he turns to look at you.

    "The telling part is the problem. Everyone tells me that I could do something, but what they mean is that I should do it." He snaps. You move over to his side of the bed before standing, almost in a challenge. The two of you are now almost uncomfortably close, to the point where you’re sure if you moved an inch your noses would be touching.

    "Well, What if that's not what I’m doing but you're just reading it that way?" You say, meeting his gaze. Pietro was never one to back down from a confrontation, especially not one with you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this angry at you before, rocky past be damned.

    "So you’re saying I'm overanalyzing?" He says, and you groan at the fact that nothing you said was getting through to him, pushing the palms of your hands into the outer edge of your eye sockets. 

    "I'm saying that I'm not your dad-" 

    "And what would you know about my family?!" Pietro yells, and you’re quick to look back up at him, scowling. 

    "Don't raise your voice at me!” You snap, pushing a finger into his chest. “I know enough to know that your dad controls every aspect of what you do, and that's not fair to you." You tell him.

    "Don't pretend that you understand or care about any of that" Pietro says, grabbing ahold of your hand rather tightly. God! You did not understand why he couldn’t get it through his thick fucking skull!

    "I do care, Pietro!" The words burst out of you, almost uncontrollably. You slam your other fist into his chest, tears of frustration welling in your eyes as you look at him. His eyes are wide, looking shocked and confused. You’re beginning to lose your fight, leaning against his chest, still somewhat caught in his grip despite the fact that his hold on your hand had become light, and still, it felt confining. 

    "I may not understand why you do what you do, but I do care about you." Your words come out quieter this time, blinking away those stupid tears that had started to well. Pietro’s eyebrows are furrowed, eyes searching your own, but you don't know what for. The two of you stand there for what feels like forever for both of you speedsters, but was surely more like a split second. You’re still pressed up against his chest, faces so close they could touch.

    And then they did.

    Pietro is the first to kiss you, leaning in and quickly cupping the back of your neck with his free hand, almost in a possessive manner. Once his thoughts have finally caught up with his actions, he pulls back. He looks at you, wide-eyed at his own actions before you gently pull him back in for another kiss. It only takes a moment to click before he sighs into you, melting into the kiss. His kisses are tender, sweet presses of his lips against your own. After a few long moments, you slowly pull away from him. He rests his forehead against your own, a fond look in his eyes that you were sure you mirrored. 

From that night on, his nightly visits to you meant something more than they had in the past.

That didn’t mean that they went unnoticed by others, however, and one day you found yourself being called into the professor's study. Of course you were a little worried, but you were so sure that there was no way anyone could have noticed, right?

    Logan is standing next to the professor's desk when you enter the room, frowning with his arms crossed. Professor Xavier on the other hand sits rather calmly, inviting you to sit down. You choose to stand instead, cocking your head at them.

    “Wow. What is this, an intervention?” You joke, trying to laugh off the oddness of the situation.

    “Yup.” Logan snorts. You shoot him a confused and slightly panicked look that the professor picks up on immediately.

    “There’s no need to worry, my dear.” The professor says calmly. “We just had a few concerns about-” 

    “We know that Magneto’s brat has been sneaking into your room.” You almost flinch at Logan's accusatory tone, bristling with a sudden flash of embarrassment and then anger at him for what he calls Pietro. “I’ve been smelling his scent on you for weeks.” Logan finishes, and you’re so taken aback you don’t know what to say at first, mouth hanging open in shock.

    “Easy, Logan.” The professor says, raising an eyebrow at the furry man, but Logan isn’t listening, approaching you with a scowl on his face.

    “Have you ever heard the phrase, no fraternizing with the enemy, kid?” He continues, and the close contact has you bristling again, unwilling to back down.

    “Logan.” The professor tries again, unsuccessfully.

    “Look, the first time he came to me he was injured. I wasn’t going to turn him away.” You finally say, fists clenching as you ignore Logan before looking back at the professor instead.

    “I understand that. In fact, I’m thankful that you could be so forgiving towards Pietro, despite the past the two of you share.” The professor states, but his words hardly relieve you.

    “Then what is the problem?” You ask, exacerbated by this whole interaction already. Logan seems to be angry that you’re ignoring him but snorts at your question.

    “-The problem is that you shouldn’t be letting him in your knickers.” You gasp at Logan's accusation, and the professor looks appalled. 

    “Logan!” Professor X scolds as you struggle and scrabble for words, now both embarrassed, mortified, and rather flush in the face.

    “-Excuse you! We weren’t- we’ve never!” It’s a struggle to finally find your words, and even more embarrassing to be so caught off guard. What kind of asshole accuses someone of that out in the freaking open?! In front of your mentor no less?!

    “Sure you haven’t. That’s why your bed doesn’t smell like him.” Logan rolls his eyes, and you refrain from punching him in the face right then and there.

    “Well if your stupid nose was as good as you say it is, you would know that we haven't done anything just by the smell!”

    “Just because it hasn’t happened now-” 

    ENOUGH! Both of you! The professor silenced the argument with a single thought. Both you and Logan feel scolded, and yet still bitter about the other. You cross your arms in a bit of a defensive manner ad the two of you turn back to face the professor.

    “This was never supposed to be an argument, simply a conversation.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You scoff at that, sending a pointed look in Logan’s direction.

    “Well maybe, Logan should learn to stay out of my business!” You say, only for the professor to hold his hand up for you to stop, simply hoping both you and Logan would quit continuing to dig this hole deeper and deeper.

    “I’ve heard enough.” Professor X states. “We were simply concerned about the nature of the relationship between the two of you, seeing that you have been growing closer. I know your mind, and I trust you to stay by the X-men’s side.”

    “Then what is this?” You ask, the words coming out as more of a whisper. Logan sighs, looking regretful but ever the stubborn ass. He looks at you, moving to where he can lean against the professor’s desk again.

    “... Look, Kid. we just don’t want you to get hurt. Anything between you and Pietro isn’t going to end well.” Logan says. You feel a little more understanding of him now, but only a bit, with him back to acting like he normally did. He was always an older brother figure to you, but that did not give him the right to air out your business, even if the professor could find out everything that had been happening with the barest glimpse into your mind. Still, you scowl just slightly at Logan, looking away from him. He sighs again, and with a nod from the professor, leaves the room. The professor nods you over to his side, wheeling his way towards the bookshelf with one particular photo on it. One of him and Magento in their college days.

    “You are an adult. I cannot stop you from making your own decisions.” The professor starts. You find yourself tracing the features of the young Erik, finding the image of Pietro in every part of his father's face. The professor looks at you, and all he can see is a face so similar to his own. “I too, understand what it is like to hold affection for someone so distantly aligned from you. It’s due to that understanding that I worry for you. I…” The professor trails off and you turn to look at him with a frown. You knew. You know. The two of you are so different from each other, but surely that didn’t mean you would be enemies forever? He wouldn’t hurt you in the way that Magneto had hurt the professor so many times before… would he? Professor Xavier reaches out to take your hand in both of his own, squeezing it reassuringly.

    “Just be careful, my dear.” 

    “I understand, professor.” 

[sant-riley]

Domestic Simon Riley? 👀 -🪴

[With you] [Simon 'Ghost' Riley domestic headcanons]

(Romantic Ghost x Reader)

Summary: Simon is your disconcerning boyfriend, to most people it seems as if he'd be incapable of gentle touches and affection, you know better though.

More info: You're apart of 141, no one knows you two are dating, you are younger than him and are shorter than him in this.

Warnings: usage of the word Girl once but it is more geared towards fem! (This is so fucking self indulgent im sorry) possibly ooc for Ghost (idc tbh) , do these even count as domestic? Idk ive never dated someone, nothing else that I know of but do let me know if there is anything that needs to be tagged!

Ghost is so painfully subtle in public with the way he treats you, he'll never outwardly do anything romantic but his actions and how he looks at you while he does it makes people pause.

In your own quarters or homes though, its different.

He's extremely attentive to you, your wants, your needs, your dislikes, he knows it all, he classifies it as important as missions. Simon didn't have a good father growing up, he didn't get to see what a good husband was supposed to be like, he's learning from the bottom up and he takes it seriously.

You'll never have to ask him to make breakfast, he's always up before you and has it cooked on the table with your drink.

Knows exactly when it's the time you wake up, and if he's able he'll go wake you up personally, brushing your hair out of your face and gently running his fingers through to detangle it from your sleeping.

Despite how cute you are sleeping in just his large hoodie, he won't let you sleep in, y'all got stuff to do.

He'll pick you up and bring you down to the table, pressing a kiss to your temple, if that doesn't wake you up (you usually will look up for a real kiss), he isn't afraid to grab your face in one hand and just, smoosh your face, he knows you hate it but it's gonna wake you up bc you're trying to slap his hand away.

He sits across from you, but reaches out one arm across the table with his palm facing up so you can grab it whenever, he likes it when you play with his hands.

Don't get me started on Simon and washing dishes, he always takes over washing duty and let's you dry ‘em. But every other time, he's gonna let his hands stay wet and will tell you to “think fast” and flick water over you (if you truly hate it, he'll stop though)

you know that saying of peeling oranges? He's the biggest proof that there is somewhere out there that will do it for you without question. Doesn't matter what it is, if you don't prefer driving, he has no complaints about driving you everywhere, if you don't like washing your hair? Just tell him what products and what order you use them in, just sit there and relax.

If you wear makeup and you're too tired to take it off yourself, he'll do it for you and it makes me emotional.

In your shared bathroom, he sets you on top the counter and uses one hand to gently grab your chin, taking the remover and firmly rubbing off your eyeshadow/eyeliner/blush/etc, afterwards he'll murmer a “that's my girl.” (He loves you with or without makeup, but he loves you for you, doesn't matter which you choose to do that day or any day)

He covers the corners of the meeting tables when you bend down to grab at the pen you dropped, it's just second nature for him to protect you from hurting yourself. He's yanked you from the street, picked you up just with one arm to make sure you don't walk into something gross on the street, gotten in front of strangers who try and get in your face for something. His body completely covers your own, and he always has weapons on his person, he isn't afraid to resort to maiming someone for you, you're his number one priority.

Simon loves having you sleep on top of him, he finds the weight a good reminder that you're there, you're not going anywhere if you do, he'll notice right away. If you get up to go to the kitchen, he'll sleepily follow you and just stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time til you realize he's there. He'll make fun of you too “You should know ‘m right here, what kind of soldier isn't aware-” “Simon, I'm literally in just a bra and boxers right now.”

He demands your attention, this is one he'll do on bass in front of others bc technically he can get a with it. You're next to a recruit he doesn't like? Suddenly there's papers on a recent mission he needs your signature on, or he needs you for special 141 training reasons (he wants you to come with him to the dining hall, he's hungry and he doesn't want to go alone)

Dude stands right up against your back, in every scenario. His chest is probably an inch away from your back. He's playfully called your shadow by Price and the rest of the guys.

He grabs your hips alot, usually just to rest his hands there, occasionally rubbing small circles into the flesh, humming.

Simon will try and subtly leave as well if you leave the room, he gives it 10 minutes before he makes his way out to find wherever you wandered off too 

Price finds it fucking hilarious, he'll look down at his watch and mentally countdown to when Simon makes his escape. Simon can fool most people but not John, the way Ghost will tap his foot and roll his shoulders are tell tale signs that he's had enough of being there.

He'll dance if you want him to, though he simply sways with you in his arms, if you're of a specific culture, he'll try his best to learn it but no promises, while he is fast learner and perfects everything he does, he's a big man, he's not that graceful.

Without thinking if he sees you're cold, he's stripping off his jacket to give it to you, he doesn't ask, he just moves behind you to drape it over your shoulders.

He'll take off his mask with you, and let you trace the scars that litter his face, let you trace his features too, he's fallen asleep to you doing it and he doesn't know how much you cried silently when he did.

Simon practices new jokes on you, to get your opinion of them until he can tell the others, the louder you groan the better the joke is in his eyes.

Soap asks why you don't even react anymore and you just sigh. You are tired.

When he's especially annoyed and done with the day, he just shoves his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a death grip while he takes deep breaths, in the least weird possible, your scent and body so close to him helps him destress.

One thing he makes a huge point to do is to clean your guns for you, yes you should do it yourself but ever since y'all have gotten together, he's taken it upon himself.

He's scared, more scared than anything that something will go wrong when you're both not on the same mission, this is just a way he can ensure your gun will fire correctly and efficiently, that you can defend yourself when he isn't there.

Speaking of weapons, he gives you one of his personal knives for you to keep, he'll ask for it back only to sharpen it, everything has to stay in its best shape.

Likes when you drape yourself over him when he's sitting, alas he is just a man so he likes to feel your chest against his back.

Pulls you into his lap if you walk by, he'll let you get up if you truly want to but he'll position you to sit sideways and will rub your legs as he watches whatever is on the TV.

For anyone who has arthritis, Ghost will take the time to rub your ointments into your hands, he knows what weather makes then worse and keeps his own tube of it onhand so he's prepared.

He's always buying you things, he knows that it's not necessary but for him, it sees it as ‘if for some reason I fail at something else, at least I can provide this’ someone hug him he's fighting for his life.

Stocks up on every single essential you can ever need, your comfort food and snacks? Always on base and always at your flat, if you two are walking around the shoppes and he sees you eyeball anything, bet your ass he's going online to order it for you immediately, and when it shows up, he just shrugs. He doesn't see it as a big deal, it's just money. Which is very cute but also a ps5 is NOT cheap sir, you can't just-

[yawnjunn]

:*:✼ TXT attending your concert ✼*･ﾟ

Woahh its been a while huh...got super busy with life, just failed my physics exam 😜✌️ and now im on my school break, i decided to write this post bcs im SUPERRR bored rn but anyways

╰┈➤ idol!ot5! txt x idol!gn!reader

╰┈➤ no warnings, just fluff

╰┈➤ quick guide : y/n = your name, y/g/n = your group's name, y/f/n = your fandom's name

yeonjun(연준) :

☆ This man isnt afraid to attend your concert WITHOUT covering his face, yk how some artists covered their face and attend their friend's concert? yeah...not yj tho

☆ He might only bring a lightstick, not those extra banners or signs or whatever

☆ The only reason why he only brought a lightstick was bcs, he treats your concert like its his monthly/weekly routine

☆ Youre having a 2 day concert in seoul? You know damn right he'll be there despite his busy schedule

☆ Having a concert in japan? Finds a way to get to japan just to attend your concert

☆ so thats why he didnt feel like the need to bring extras cs in the end, yk hes gonna attend anyways

☆ but that didnt stop fans from screaming whenever they saw yeonjun

☆ he'd probably try to make a conversation with your fans while waiting for you to perform with your group

☆ "so how long have you stan y/g/n ?"

☆ "im a y/n biased, and you?"

☆ when you came on stage and during the breaks between performing, you called out yeonjun

☆ "yeonjun i know youre here somewhere, cameraman pls find yeonjun and point the camera at him"

☆ and when the camera is on him, hes smiling brightly and covered his shy face after getting those cheers from your fans

☆ you'd probably ask him to dance to one of your songs

☆ "yeonjun dance this song for me pls" then hes like shaking his head and all, refusing

☆ but the moment the music started, he danced so well that he literally became the hot topic of your group's show

soobin(수빈) :

☆ well soobin however, he'll come 2 hours early before your concert starts

☆ the reason he came early was because he was excited to give out his handmade freebies

☆ the night before, soobin had asked if he could hand out some freebies to your concert and you found this soooo cute that you told all your fans to find soobin for freebies

☆ he may be a little bit biased but all his freebies are just you.

☆ you wonder, what did he made? well...he made a banner, your photocard that he printed himself using his company's printer, candies of your fav and pastries that he had bake

☆ believe me or not, he woke up as early as 4 am just to make cute little pastries as your concert take place in morning

☆ he believed your fans wouldnt get breakfast, so he baked the pastries for them 😭

☆ as soon as your concert starts, he whipped out his phone so fast and record it and whenever you came on screen, hes like "wahhh theyre so pretty"

☆ when you start singing, he starts crying???? hes way too proud of you that he starts crying and vent to his friends sitting next to him

☆ "you know how hard my baby worked? im so proud of them, i remember them crying every night to me because of training and now look at them, theyre on stage now"

☆ his friend sitting beside him was like, soobin are u okay??? are u drunk?? but either way, his friend can only smile and nod while listening to soobin rant

beomgyu(범규) :

☆ idc what anyone says but this man will be fighting for a front row ticket

☆ literally camps outside the venue like..literally

☆ you had offered him to enter the venue earlier than anyone before the show starts

☆ but he refused this bcs he wants to get them freebies from your fans 😭 instead of giving them out, he wants the freebies himself

☆ goes from fan to fan, if he sees a fan handing out freebies? he'll be speed walking, another fan giving out freebies too? he'll be speed walking

☆ receives the freebies until it couldnt fit in his little bag that he brought with him

☆ as soon as the security lets everyone inside, he'll be running just to get close to the barricade

☆ since hes an idol, i know its ridiculous but he'll be surrounded by 2 of his protocol team 😭

☆ even though he had brought his 2 protocol teammates, he'd somehow make them enjoy your concert too

☆ like when your group tells the fans to jump, beomgyu would convinced his protocol buddies to jump aswell

☆ you spot beomgyu in the crowds and he'd wave you like crazy, like a fan boy 😭 ...does beomgyu knows that youre his lover???? 😭😭😭

☆ but anyways, he'll go on weverse and post the concert pics and take a photo of the freebies he received

☆ "what an amazing night, they look so beautiful tonight and thank you to y/f/n for giving out the freebies, i'll be keeping it forever"

taehyun(태현) :

☆ this man is quite lowkey but he is a hardcore stan of yours

☆ hes a bit dissappointed when he founds out that he wasnt the first one to arrive at the venue, he was like "2 hours before the concert starts, and theres alot of people waiting..." poor him, he thought he was the first 😭

☆ he'd show up with his mask on and a cap as he didnt want the fans to know he came to see you

☆ but that kinda failed as your fans started to notice his famous boba eyes in the crowds

☆ this made him open his mask, since theres no point in using it 😭

☆ as soon as y/g/n performs, yk damn well he'd be taking tons of videos

☆ he'd sing along to your songs and dance to some of it

☆ he memorised the fanchant too !!!

☆ bro got jealous when he sees y/f/n got the banners like...ugh he wants one too????

☆ he was like "see i knew i shouldnt have brought lightstick only"

☆ politely asks y/f/n for some extra banners

☆ believe me or not, he'd use those digital text on his phone that says, "y/n please notice me"

☆ luckily you noticed this and blew him a kiss and in return, he gave you a big heart which made you giggle on stage which also made y/f/n cheer louder

hueningkai(휴닝카이) :

☆ you think hes gonna go alone to your concert? nope

☆ he'll invite everyone he knows, his members, his family, his staffs. literally everyone to show how talented you are

☆ as much as you would love your boyfriend to bring in alot of people, apparently it has limits

☆ so in the end, he only brought his 2 sisters, lea and hiyyih

☆ dont worry, he paid for their tickets lmao

☆ LOVES receiving freebies from y/f/n

☆ when lea or hiyyih got your photocard from the freebies, he'd say smthn like "can i have that..?"

☆ not only he likes receiving freebies but hes also a merch buyer. sees a cute wristband for the lightstick? he'll buy. a cute shirt? he'll buy. a batch with your face on it? he'll buy.

☆ he'll buy everything that has your name or your face on it, until lea told him to stop unless he wants his bank account balance to be $0

☆ he'll do anything to get noticed by you, even tho he knows youre his lover

☆ before the concert, he texted, 'i'll be on the middle row, 3rd line from the front!!'

☆ but he decided to go extra as he thought you'd forget to see him so yk what he did? he brought glowing light sticks with him to make him more noticable 😭😭

☆ when you noticed him, you gave him a heart and him being a fanboy of yours, he started giggling and bragged to his sisters, "did you see that? they definitely gave that heart to me"

☆ after the concert ends, he'd ask one of his sisters to take photos of him doing cute poses whenever youre on screen, like him doing a big heart whenever you show up on the screen

☆ fans found this cute as they started uploading his leaked pictures doing those poses

☆ people may or may not label you guys as the couple of the year 🤭

[roseghoul26]

Charles Smith x gn!Reader

"Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. 'Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.' He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. 'Yeah?' You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low." Synopsis: A brush with hypothermia forces you and Charles to camp out in an abandoned cabin. Having to resort to some more intimate means of survival, will you be able to keep your feelings in check for the hunter, or will the proximity force you to confess?

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hypothermia, Huddling for Warmth, yes this is a cuddle for warmth fic, idc if its cheesy, Oral Sex, Gender-Neutral Reader, Fem Anatomy for Reader, Face-Sitting, Love Confessions, but in a twist its not the reader who gets frozen, surprise!

Author's Note: listened to chappell roan the entire time while writing this (hence the title). i also got so distracted by stardew valley my addiction has returned also, there’s a moment where the reader touches charles’ hair. as a non-indigenous person, i’m not fully educated when it comes to hair and the importance it holds in native american culture. i did research, but i could still be wrong. if i have made any errors, please let me know, and i will change it. 

If you never had to see snow again, you’d die happy. 

Tightening the fur coat around your body, you tried to preserve what heat you had left in you. The cold air of Colter was like a leech, sucking you dry of any warmth and joy. And it wasn’t just affecting you, you noticed. Glancing around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar situation, with as many furs and clothes on their bodies as they huddled around the laughably small fire. 

The gang had been in Colter for about a week, hiding away from the law after the disaster that was Blackwater. You don’t remember much from that day, most of it a blur in your memories, but you remember the bloodshed. Pointless, ruthless bloodshed. You hoped you’d never see something like that again. 

Shivering, you almost regretted giving your extra jacket to Abigail, who had wrapped it around Jack. You were only feet from the fire, but it might as well have been hundreds of miles away with the way it was doing nothing to warm you. With a huff, you rubbed your fingers together, simply sitting and passing the time until someone asked you to do something or you had to go back on guard duty. That was all you could do, really, the snow and remote location making it impossible for you to do your normal robbing and thieving. 

There were many times during this week that you’d debated leaving the gang after you all made it out of Colter. You’d only joined about a year and a half ago, Dutch personally inviting you to his group after hearing about your notoriety across the states. Sure, it was nice to have a group like this, but this wasn’t what you signed up for, especially the events at Blackwater. You were promised opportunity and freedom, not brutality and hiding and cold-blooded murder. You wondered, would it be easy to slip away?

Sighing, you slumped forward, and your  legs were numb from sitting on the hard floor. You were on the precipice of coming to a decision, but there were still some things preventing you from taking the leap. You’d become somewhat close with the members of the gang, your lone wolf attitude dissipating as you created bonds with the others. It was easy to get along with Arthur, the two of you becoming fast friends, frequently doing jobs together. You spent most nights chatting with the girls in camp, chatting until late in the night. You respected Hosea, and even Dutch for some time, the recent events shattering that respect for him. To some degree you’d created a connection with each member of the camp, keeping you tethered to one place. 

There was one person in particular, however, that kept pushing those thoughts of leaving out of your mind. Charles Smith, the taciturn hunter that you’d become weirdly fond of these past few months. You’re not sure what you’d call your relationship with the man. The two of you were friendly, maybe even friends. When Dutch sent you out on jobs together, it always ended well, working together quite decently, if you’d say so yourself. 

Still, you wished you were closer with him, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. You found it hard to try and initiate conversation with him, never quite knowing what to say that wouldn’t make you seem like a fool. And when you would talk to him, it felt like you were just talking at him, but if he was annoyed by you, he never showed. He’d just politely nod along, adding a few words here and there. 

But you knew he didn’t dislike you, finding him frequently looking at you around camp, just silently observing. Whenever you’d catch him, he’d just give you a polite smile, before turning away to do something else. Every time he did it, you found yourself grow bashful, your heart skipping in your chest. His starting was certainly not helping the infatuation you had with him.

Yes, your stupid heart had fallen for him, making it hurt to even entertain the idea of leaving. It was ridiculous and irresponsible to have feelings for him, and you knew that. They’d been there since he joined, and you figured that they would’ve gone away by now, but that was months ago. You’d never met a man like him before, someone so strong and fearsome, yet honorable and kind at the exact same time, and you figured that’s why you were so drawn to him.

Arthur knew about your feelings for the man, drunkley telling him during a night out at the bar in Blackwater a few months ago. He almost said something to Charles, who was somewhere in the same bar that night, claiming that ‘this life is unpredictable’ and ‘you gotta do somethin’ before it’s too late’, but you quickly shut that down with a swift kick to the shins. But that didn’t mean he stopped asking you if you’d done anything yet, and each time you’d respond with ‘no’. 

You knew that Charles didn’t think of you that way. You’re unpredictable, reckless, fiery, everything opposite of what Charles is. Where you were chaos, he was calm. Fire, water. And you didn’t want to ruin what relationship you had with him, so you kept your mouth shut (and never got too drunk around him).

A gust of sharp cold wind and the creak of a door broke you from your thoughts, a shiver wracking your body as you turned to see who just entered the cabin. In some cruel timing from the universe, the man who had just been haunting your mind walked in, a fresh dusting of snow hitting the ground as he shook out his jacket. A chorus of greetings came from the group collected around the fire, a gentle smile coming from you before you turned back to face the fire. Charles calling out your name had you slowly turning to him again. 

“Will you go hunting with me? The deer me and Arthur caught didn’t last as long as we’d hoped.” You now noticed the bow in his hand, along with a small quiver of arrows.

“I mean, sure,” you stood up, your cold muscles aching as you stretched, “but I ain’t much of a hunter, ya know. I usually end up scarin’ away animals instead of catchin’ ‘em. The others might be more well-suited for this.”

“But I’m asking you. And I can’t exactly do it myself.” Charles held the bow and arrows out for you to grab. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” Not like I could ever say no to you, you thought as you took the weapon and slung it over your shoulder, and secured the quiver on your hip. “Let’s go.”

With a nod, Charles opened the door, holding it open to let you step outside into the harsh Colter weather. Wincing at the bright light bouncing off the white snow, you were temporarily blinded as you made your way to where your horses were, Charles not far behind you. A light snowfall came down around you as you walked, not terrible visibility wise, but enough to be obvious. You just hoped that it wouldn’t pick up later. 

There was probably a good foot-and-a-half of snow on the ground, making your movement sluggish and awkward. From what little you knew about tracking, though, it meant that it would be easy to pick up an animal's track, so for that you were somewhat grateful. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach your horses, and you went to mount up, only to notice that your horse just wasn’t there. Spinning around, you looked to see if maybe she got unhitched and wandered somewhere nearby, but there was nothing. Whistling, you waited a few moments, seeing if you’d hear the sound of hoofbeats and winnings, but there was nothing. She was just gone.

As Charles mounted, looking equally as confused as you were, you turned and  looked to see who was currently on guard duty, thinking maybe they had seen something. “Javier!” You called out, the poor man nearly jumping out of his skin at the sudden loud noise. “Where’s Hera?”

“Arthur took her!” He shouted back, and you couldn’t help groaning in annoyance. I’m gonna kill you, Arthur Morgan. 

“And you let him?” Javier had made his way over to you now, and you saw him open his mouth to respond, but you stopped him with a wave. “Nevermind, it’s not your fault or your responsibility. I’m just… frustrated.” You took a deep breath, and a cloud left your lips as you exhaled.  “Where’d Arthur go?” You heard the ground crunch behind you as Charles approached on Taima. 

“I dunno,” Javier shrugged. “Him, Dutch, Micah, and Bill went out a few minutes ago, he’s been borrowing everyone else’s horse since his died. Guess it was Hera’s turn.”

“Well, shit,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “You don’t reckon they’ll be back soon, right? Maybe they forgot somethin’?” You missed the way Charles let out an amused huff, your back facing him as you conversed with Javier. 

Javier lightly chuckled. “Look, if you need to go, I’ll let you use Boaz for a bit. It’s not like I’ll be needing him for a bit,” he gestured to the repeater currently in his hands. “If anything happens to him though…” he threatened, gesturing again to the weapon in his hands.

You were about to respond, but Charles beat you to it. “Or you could ride with me. If you’d like.”

You tried to keep your face neutral as you turned to respond, but you had to stop and glare at Javier who was sniggering. Apparently your facial expressions weren’t as subtle as you believed. Thank God you had your back turned, then. 

You turned again, and when you weren't so rudely interrupted by Javier’s childish antics, you responded to Charles. “Are you sure?”

He extended his non-injured hand to you as he nodded. “We gotta get moving though. Only a few hours of sunlight left.”

“Alright.” You linked your hand with his, letting him help you on to the back of his horse with ease. Javier had long since left, already halfway back to his guard post, not before giving you a knowing smile. As you wrapped your hands around his waist, you tried and failed to keep your breathing even, your heartrate picking up substantially. 

Sighing, you refrained from resting your head against his back. This was pure torture, but you knew you were going to enjoy it.

Thank you, Arthur Morgan… I’m still gonna kill you, though. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

He wasn’t quite sure why he offered to let you ride with him on Taima; he was just making it harder for himself to stay away from you. He scolded himself, because someone else had your heart, and he would just end up hurting his own if he kept doing things like this. 

The two of you had sped out of Colter, Charles setting a brisk pace that made the air bite at his skin. The pain was good, as it distracted him from thinking of you. You, who subconsciously shifted closer to him to shield yourself from the air. He felt you adjust behind him until his larger frame was shielding you entirely. 

He expected you to have started talking by now, making some comment about the weather or cursing Arthur out. When you didn’t he felt himself start to grow a bit panicked. Did I make you uncomfortable? Is this too much?

He kept his voice steady, and he gently called out your name. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I figure that must come as a relief.” 

I could listen to you for hours, he thought. I don’t ever want to stop hearing your voice. “Are you alright?”

He felt you shift behind him, your hands tightening where they sat on his waist. Your touch wasn’t even improper, yet he still found his breath hitching in his throat. Charles just prayed that the howling winds around the two of you drowned it out. “I think so. It just… this place is really terrible.” When he nodded in agreement, you continued. “And I’ve got a lot on my mind. Blackwater, the gang, my future… It's a little bit overwhelming.”

“Do you…  want to talk about it?” He offered, and you sighed. 

“I… I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout Blackwater, ‘bout everything we did wrong, what we should’ve done differently, the choices we made. But I especially can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout that girl that Dutch murdered. The way he killed her, no mercy or falter, I ain’t even seen nothin’ like that from him before. Or maybe I chose to look away before…” you trailed off.

“You’re not the one who pulled the trigger. Dutch is the only person guilty of that.”

“Maybe I didn’t pull the trigger, but I’m sure as hell ain’t innocent. I could’ve- should’ve done somethin’. There was plenty of time for me to.”

“Don’t go beating yourself up about the past. The only thing we can hope to do is learn from it and continue on towards the future.”

“But the future is just as terrifying as the past! I’m scared for the gang, for its future. We’ve become so bloodthirsty, and now all Dutch talks about is revenge.” Your voice was becoming more and more distressed. “Is that what we’ve turned into? A bunch of no-good killers who think with their guns? I ain’t- I don’t wanna be that. That ain’t what I joined up for.”

Charles didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d noticed that shift in the gang over the last few weeks, the members become quicker to jump to violence and bloodshed. He wasn’t a saint, the blood on his hands equal to yours, but he was even becoming disturbed by the amount of unnecessary killings happening. 

“I’m thinkin’ ‘bout leaving.” Your voice was barely a whisper, like you were ashamed to say it. Charles stilled, shock running through his system. “Once we get out of here. This… this isn’t what I wanna do. I don’t wanna be associated with the Van Der Linde gang if it’s gonna continue heaidn’ in the direction it’s goin’. And I don’t wanna find myself at the end of a lawman’s barrel, noose ‘round my neck.”

“Oh.” Charles found himself at an impasse; did he just keep his mouth shut, or say something that might reveal too much? If you truly wanted to leave, then he didn’t want to guilt you into staying by revealing his true feelings. He understood why you wanted to leave, those same thoughts frequenting his mind as well, but he’d found a reason to stay: you. He hadn't told Arthur that when he asked why Charles was still hanging around a few days ago. His conversation with the other man when they hunted had solidified his stay with the gang, for better or for worse.

Did you feel the same way? You fool, Charles chastised himself. They don’t want you that way.

“Does anyone else know?” 

“No,” you sighed. “You’re the only one.”

A selfish part of him was glad that he was the only one that knew, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. “Well,” he began, “the only thing I can say is to not do something that you’ll regret… and just know that there’s a lot of people here that will really miss you if you decide to leave.” I will miss you so much that it hurts.

He felt your head connect with his back as you slumped forward, and he jolted at the contact. “Why can’t you just make the decision for me, Charles? I trust your judgment.”

Stay. Please, stay, he screamed in his head. “I can’t tell you what to do, how to live your life. Unfortunately, the decision comes to you,” was his reply. 

“You’re right. You’re always right, Charles,” you laughed half-heartedly. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Still got a ways until I have to.”

“Whatever decision you come to, I’ll support you.” Liar. “Just… don’t leave without saying goodbye, you hear?”

“I promise. Now,” your usual chipperness returned to your voice, “where are we headin’?”

He explained that he was taking the two of you to Lake Isabella, following the Spider Gorge down. The lake had started to melt, meaning animals were more likely to start coming out as the weather warmed. As the two of you rode, you kept close to him, significantly closer than you were when you left. 

Charles pretended not to notice.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

There wasn’t much to look at on the ride down. Everything was white, splashes of black rock breaking up the monotonous landscape, and the occasional tree made itself known. There weren’t any animals, not even a rabbit. It was like you and Charles were the only living souls in the area.

You only spotted a couple of buildings, two of them a small cabin that could house one or two people. One was absolutely destroyed, time and weather causing the ceiling to collapse in, only a skeleton remaining. The other still stood, smoke coming out of the chimney, but you had no idea if the occupants were home or not. 

Taking a mental note of the building, before returning your attention back forward. Charles seemed to be content with just riding in silence, so you settled against him, your head nearly resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to spill so much to Charles, and you certainly hadn’t meant to tell him that you thought about leaving. It’s just that you felt so comfortable with him that you couldn’t help the words from coming out, and you felt ten pounds lighter because of it. 

You didn’t want to drag another person into your troubles, especially over something so trivial in comparison to what the rest of the gang was going through. A part of you wanted this to be the moment in all those cheesy romances you read where the love interest confesses their feelings in order to make the main character stay. But this was real life, and this was Charles you were talking about, the man who would put everyone’s needs before his, even if it hurt. And besides, Charles had never done or said anything that gave you the impression that he had feelings for you. From what you could tell, he saw you as a friend, and nothing else.

Right?

God, you were so desperate for the man you held on to. 

He made no comment when you did actually rest your head on his shoulder. If he did ask why, you’d just say you were cold. You knew you just wanted to pretend that he was yours. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. It did little to calm your erratic heart. 

Eventually, the partially frozen Lake Isabella came into view. This area wasn’t too unfamiliar to either you or Charles, having been there a few days prior to dispatch a group of O’Driscolls. Having opened your eyes a few moments prior, you were able to make out a few deer drinking from the newly exposed lake water. You gestured to them, but Charles had already seen them, bringing Taima to a halt behind a large bush.

By this time, the snow had begun to pick up, the sheets coming down obscuring your view ever so slightly. But it wasn’t enough to force you indoors. 

Dismounting as quietly as you could, you readied the bow in your hands, letting Charles lead the way as he snuck closer to them. It was almost supernatural, the way he was able to move so silently. For someone of his stature, you’d never expect him to be able to move so quietly and with such ease, yet here he was. You tried your best to move like him, taking a bit longer as you followed in his footsteps. Charles led you around the edge of the lake, the shore edge mere inches from your feet, occasionally splashing against your shoes. 

Luckily, the deer hadn’t noticed either you or Charles, still drinking without a care in the world. He had stopped by now, moving to the side to let you move ahead. The deer were in range by now, and you only needed to move a few feet closer, making you halt underneath a large tree. The branches drooped under the weight of the snow, a few globs falling off and hitting the ground around you. 

Weirdly enough, you felt at peace. Not because of the hunting, but because of the man who stood a few yards behind you. You felt safe under his gaze, like nothing could hurt you. As you drew the arrow back, you let out a confused noise as the deer suddenly scattered, spooked by something you couldn’t see. 

You turned to look back at Charles, but you realized then that you probably shouldn't've had your guard down so much. A large weight dropped on you from the tree, too heavy and too warm to be just snow. You let out a startled cry, blocking out Charles shouting out your name, panic seeping into his voice. 

Whatever fell on you landed on your back, your face pressed in the snow as you lay on your stomach. It clicked now that there was someone on you, a hand yanking your head back by your hair, warm breath assaulting your face as your attacker spoke. You couldn’t quite make out what exactly he was saying, snow and shock causing your hearing to be spotty. All you were able to make out were a few curses, the word “kill” multiple times, and some racist phrases aimed toward Charles.

Even before the initial shock had worn off, you were fighting back, squirming and moving desperately against the man’s grip. He just laughed, then you heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He rested the barrel against the back of your neck, the cold metal pressing against the exposed skin. Dread washed over you, numbing your senses far beyond what the cold could do. With the way the man gripped your head, you couldn’t move it, and you strained your eyes as you looked around, desperate to find Charles. Is he alright? Please, let him be alright. 

You saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye, and as soon as the weight was on you, it was gone. An alarmed yell left your attacker as he was tackled off of you, being pushed a fair distance before falling onto the frozen Lake Isabella. Rolling over, your hand fell into the cold water, and you quickly pulled it back.

Standing as quickly as you could, the world spun for a moment, your body confused with the many different orientations you were just in. Pressing your back against the tree for stability, you watched as Charles and your attacker rolled far across the ice. You saw the distinct green handkerchief around his neck, and you couldn’t help the exasperated groan that left you. No matter where you went or what you did, you couldn’t escape the O’Driscolls. 

Shouts from behind you had you spinning around, quickly drawing your revolver, the bow long since discarded on the ground. Three more O’Driscolls came running from the woods, only a few yards away from you now, their cries of alarm coming from the two bodies of their members lying in the snow, which you had just noticed. Keeping your aim steady, you took three shots, the gunshots cracking through the still air. The first one hit right in the heart, the second one finding a home between his eyes, and the third one hit the final O’Driscoll right above the shoulder, merely grazing the skin, and the only non-fatal shot. Still, it caused all three of them to hit the snow.

With the final man falling relatively close to you, you ran over to him. Pulling him up by the scruff of his shirt, you held your revolver right below his chin, the hot metal burning his skin. He could not have been more than eighteen years old, a sliver of childhood innocence still left in his eyes as he stared up at you, fear and pain rendering him mute. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You snarled, pressing the barrel harder into his skin. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, boy?”

Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other, a few tears leaving him as he stared at you blankly. He was shaking, and you wondered how long he’d run with the O’Driscolls for. He was obviously young, and if this was his reaction to being held at gunpoint, you gathered that he didn’t have a whole lot of outlaw experience under his belt. Against every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you felt yourself loosen your grip on the boy, a pang of sympathy running through you. 

Sighing in exasperation, you holster your gun, a relieved noise leaving him as you did. Glancing forward, you saw two horses hitched to the trees, seemingly the rides that they came in on. “Go,” you waved. “You ain’t even grown.”

“Th-thank you!” He nearly wept, getting to his feet shakily. 

“But if I ever see ya again, especially as a damn O’Driscoll,” your hand hovered above your weapon. “I’ll not hesitate to put a bullet in your head. You hear me?”

“Y-yes.” He clutched at his shoulder. 

“Now go!” you shouted. “Get outta here! Before I change my mind.” As soon as he sped off toward the horses, you turned back toward the lake. Charles stood above your attacker, beating the life out of the man, his face pure crimson. He was using his injured hand, but he paid it no mind. Blow after blow, Charles’s strikes hit true, the thuds echoing across the water.

You really should not have found it as attractive as you did. 

You let yourself watch for a few moments longer, before you were snapping out of it. “Charles!” You called out. Immediately, he was looking up at you, the man below him no longer even on his mind. Wiping away a smear of blood on his cheek, he slowly made his way toward you, his steps slow across the ice. 

Concern etched across his features as his eyes raked over your body, looking for any injury or hurt on you. “Are you alright?” You asked, trying your best to push down the flush of your cheeks as he stalked towards you. He had an almost murderous glint in his eye, his movement predatory; you especially should not have found that attractive. 

“Did he hurt you?” He completely brushed off your question, his eyes wide with panic. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this disheveled and worried before. 

“Only my pride.” You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Charles opened his mouth to respond, but was promptly cut off when the ground beneath him gave way, the weakened ice no longer strong enough to hold him. Immediately, he was submerged under the water, but luckily he was close enough to the shore that it wasn’t too deep. He reemerged seconds later, sputtering and coughing. 

As soon as you heard the crack of the ice, you were running toward the edge, stepping precariously on the ice. In retrospect, it wasn’t the smartest idea, especially when you started walking towards where Charles fell through, but at the time you didn’t care. All that mattered was getting him out. 

Scanning around, you quickly assessed the best way to save him. The hole that was created was way big enough so he could get his arm up, but as soon as he pressed at the ice it shattered, unable to hold anything. As you stepped closer, you felt it begin to break as well, and you quickly moved back to the shore. 

“Fuck…” your hands went to you head, your gloved fingers pulling at your hair. A large stick from the tree you assaulted jumped down from sparked an idea. Grabbing it, you started chipping away at the ice, smashing and breaking it until a path big enough for Charles to go through was created. Standing at the shore, however, you realized  that neither your arms or the stick was long enough to reach the man, who was starting to get dragged down from the weight of the water in his clothes. 

Quickly unhooking your lasso from your belt, you created a loop for him to grab on to, throwing it at him with an accuracy from years and years of practice. It landed right in front of him, and he grabbed on to it as quickly as he could, his movement sluggish. Wrapping it around your hands, you began to pull him to shore. “Hold on!” you shouted at him, and he let out a noise in response. You’d take that over nothing.

It wasn’t incredibly hard to pull him closer, the water helping carry him over. But once he got to the shore, and you discarded the rope, pulling him up onto the land proved to be almost impossible. Grabbing underneath his arms, you pulled with all the strength you had, the muscles in your back and shoulders crying out in pain, but you paid them no mind. It took an incredible amount of effort, but eventually he was fully out of the water, laying splayed out in the cold snow. 

You didn’t let yourself get a moment to recover, instantly running over to his side. Turning his head toward you, you let out a sigh of relief when you say his eyes flutter open. He was absolutely drenched, his heavy winter gear made even heavier with water, and you watched him begin to shake and his teeth begin to shatter. And, if your luck wasn’t already terrible enough, a full on snowstorm had started, causing cold blasts of snow and wind to pelt your bodies. Chalres shivered even harder, and you let out helped sit him upright. “We gotta get you indoors, and soon. You ain’t gonna-” a lump formed in your throat at the thought. “It ain’t gonna be good for you if you stay out here. I’ll need your help, though. I can’t lift you on my own. Just… just find what energy you can to get up. Please.” You couldn’t help the panic in your voice. To say you were scared would be an understatement. 

You’re not quite sure he fully comprehended what you said, but he started to get up, and you forced him to lean a bit of his body weight against you as he did so. When he was up, you slung his arm over your shoulder, nearly sagging under his weight as he nearly collapsed. You called for Taima, whistlin the same pattern you’d heard Charles use for her. 

Within seconds, the sound of neighing and hoofbeats filled your ears, his loyal steed coming to a halt right in front of the two of you. She let out a worried snort, and you reassured her with some soothing noises. “Alright, Charles. Here comes the worst part.” It took quite a bit of maneuvering and effort, but after a minute Charles sat where you did on the ride there. 

His eyes, which were onced unfocused and confused, had regained some clarity to them, and you heard him mutter out your name. You smiled as reassuringly as you could, before you were mounting up on Taima, sitting in the saddle and the reins in your hands. “Hold on, darlin’.” You were too panicked to notice the name slip out, and you took the gasp from Charles as being from the cold. 

With little urging, Taima moved forward, almost immediately breaking into a gallop. You led her back up the trail, heading toward the cabin you saw on the way down. It would take too long to return back to Colter, and with the way the storm raged around you, you doubted either of you would be able to make it. 

As you rode, you felt Charles slump against you, exhaustion taking over his body. You reached behind with one hand, grabbing his knee and shaking him awake. “I know you hate me right now, but I need you to stay awake for me… please.”

He grumbled something in reply, his speech slurred and indecipherable. 

“I’m gonna talk at you, like I always do,” you tried to joke. “And you’re gonna do what you do, which is nod along and pretend you care. Just… just stay awake. You hear me?”

“I care…” you heard him protest, and you just shook your head.

“Uh-huh.” The wind was biting into your cheeks, and your eyes were watering, but you didn’t dare slow. You filled the couple minute ride with your voice, telling stories of your childhood, or random anecdotes you’d picked up from your travels, to recounting the bar fight you’d gotten into a few weeks prior. Charles, despite being exhausted, kept alert, giving one-word responses from time to time. 

He shivered the entire time, and you couldn’t tell if that was worrying or comforting. Panic was steadily bubbling in your chest, finding it hard to keep focus on your stories. Halfway through the ride, much like you did, he rested his head on your shoulder, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You suppressed a surprised noise as you felt the freezing skin against your own, his nose and lips unnervingly cold. 

“Stay with me, Charles.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It was cold. 

Everything was cold.

Could hair get cold? It sure felt like it. Charles had never felt such coldness in his life before, and he never wanted to experience it again.

He should’ve never gone on to the ice, his brain was screaming at him.

But he had led with his heart, shoving the man off you and following him on to the ice. As soon as he had seen you go down, the other man on top of you, it was like time had slowed down. He had seen red, the two men attempting to hold him down quickly meeting their ends at the hands of his fury. 

He prided himself on being able to keep calm in situations, his anger rarely ever taking a hold of him, and it had never happened since he joined the gang. Guess that streak was broken now. Not that he had any regrets.

Well, he had a few.

He should’ve registered the footprints in the snow leading up to the base of the tree. He should’ve noticed something was wrong, should’ve not been so distracted by you. He should’ve said something.

Maybe none of this would’ve happened then.

But he’s just a man, and man is selfish. He was glad this happened.

Without this happening, he wouldn’t have his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried into your neck breathing you in. Without this, you wouldn’t have called him darling, causing his heart to thump erratically in his chest. Without this, he wouldn’t have been able to pretend right now that you and him were more than friends, a fantasy that he had played out a million times in his dreams.

You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make the words out. A shiver wracked his body, and he burrowed deeper. God, he was so cold. And so tired.It would be so easy to just close his eyes, to let unconsciousness wash over him… 

He was jolted awake by a hearty shake of his knee, and he heard your voice break through the fog of his brain. 

You had such a lovely voice. He hated how worried it sounded, and all because of him. Or maybe he was happy you were worried about him. He couldn’t tell. Everything was unclear. The only thing he was certain about was the fuzzy feeling in his chest that grew with each glance and each soft word from you.

He was in love with you.

Stupidly in love, in fact. 

He couldn’t stop himself, the words tumbling from his lips like a freefall. But it came out as gibberish, and he felt you shake your head, unable to comprehend him.

That’s alright. He’d repeat it as many times as you needed. 

And as another shiver tore through him, he felt you rub his thigh reassuringly. Despite the thick material of your gloves, he could feel the warmth of your skin, practically burning against his frosty skin. The butterflies in his chest bubbled to life, and he couldn’t stop the small laugh he let out. 

He was infatuated.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The short ride felt like forever, the monotonous landscape that had once been soothing now tormenting you as you searched for the cabin you saw prior. The smoke trail was impossible to spot out in the snowstorm, so you used what limited navigation skills you had to get you there. 

Eventually, the frame of the cabin broke through the sheet of snow, and you nearly cried in relief. You were starting to freeze, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Charles was feeling. Taima huffed as you brought her alongside the entrance, the steam from her snout dissipating instantly. Quickly dismounting, Charles nearly fell off when you moved, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” you snarled, roughly shaking him awake. Yes, you were threatening the hypothermic man. No, you did not care. You were almost inside, and you were not going to lose him. “Do not pass out on me, Charles Smith. Now, let’s get you off Taima.”

Charles muttered out an apology, his eyes reopening as he struggled to get off. His clothes were starting to solidify, clumps of ice forming across his jacket. You helped as best you could, catching him when his feet made contact with the ground, nearly sending you both to the snow. Again, you slung his arm over your shoulder, your other arm holding your gun as you entered the cabin, ready to clear out any homeowners. 

A blast of heat hit both of you as you creaked the door open slowly, and you heard Charles sigh with relief. A quick scan around proved that it was empty, and you gently set Chalres in front of the still burning fire. You realized now that the occupants were probably some of the O’Driscolls that just jumped you, and the cabin now stood empty for you and Charles. Relaxing slightly, you put away your gun, then added a few more logs to the fire pit, the flames lapping at the wood eagerly. 

To call the cabin small would be an understatement. It was large enough to fit both you and Charles comfortably, but you can’t imagine that the few O’Driscolls camping here temporarily had a lot of legroom . A single twin sized bed was lined up against the wall, cloth and other materials covering the windows beside it. There was a fireplace, a small stewpot, a nightstand, and a chair. Extra sleeping bags and rugs adorned the floor, a few cans of fruits and vegetables scattered across the floor. You saw the occasional empty bottle of alcohol, and you even found a pack of cigarettes. 

Charles seemed to wake some, the warmth of the fire breathing some life back into him. You saw him look around, body still shaking. He looked even worse than you thought, his normally warm-toned skin devoid of any color, and his hair was plastered to his face. As you crouched down in front of him, you went to push back a few strands, your gloves long since discarded, but you refrained. 

“A-Are you alright?” You heard him ask again through chattering teeth, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Even though he saw freezing, likely suffering from hypothermia, he was more worried about your well being.

“I’m not the one who fell into the freezing lake. What were you thinking?” You weren’t angry, your words surprisingly gentle despite the fear in your heart. 

“I-I wasn’t… I-” his body cut him off, shivers wracking his body. 

“We gotta get these clothes off of you,” you picked at the offending garment, the material barely budging. You started to work the heavy coat off his shoulders, the roaring wind outside the only noise.

Suddenly, Charles was grabbing at your wrist, stalling your movement. You were halfway done with taking it off, the water melting off of it coating your hands. “Taima…” you heard him say.

“I’ll go make sure she’s secure,” you quickly rose to your feet. “Just get undressed. We need to get you warmed up.”

Stepping outside, the gusts hitting your body caused you to let out a curse. Taima was  still where you left her, stomping impatiently in the ground, shaking out her coat as she tried to keep warm. When you clicked your tongue, she came prancing over, ready to get out of the wind. 

You led her to the attached stall, which was in pretty decent condition. It blocked out a lot of the wind, and it shared a wall with the fireplace, letting some of the warmth to the horses as well. There was some hay left scattered on the ground, and you took off her saddle, setting it on the stand. You left the horse blanket on, giving her some extra protection. 

When you were done, you moved to leave, and you felt Taima brush affectionately against your head, nuzzling her snout into your shoulder. Laughing, you pet her neck affectionately before she removed herself to continue eating at the hay. Making sure the gate was secure, you headed back into the cabin. 

Charles was still undressing when you entered, his back to you. Even his undershirt was soaked through, the material clinging to his body like a second skin. It was at that point it clicked that the man you were infatuated with was going to be bare before you soon. You found yourself turning away, uncharacteristically embarrassed, shrugging off your own jacket and laying across the back of the chair. If it was any other person, you’d’ve not reacted this way, your lifestyle not allowing for much privacy. But of course it had to be Charles getting undressed in front of you, and you found yourself growing quite warm. 

Taking the lasso from your belt, you strung it across the room, making a makeshift clothesline to hopefully dry his clothes faster. His jacket, which was a wet pile of fur, was the first to be hung up, the rope creaking precariously under the weight. Luckily, it held, and you added each new item as he took it off. 

You made sure not to look directly at Charles, and you saw in your peripheral vision as he worked off his shirt. Your throat was suddenly dry, hands shaky as you continued to hang items up. Why, out of all people, did it have to be Charles? It was like God was tormenting you, giving you what, but keeping it just out of reach. 

You must’ve made a noise, because Charles was turning toward you, concerned. You finally let yourself look at him. He was partially done unbuttoning his shirt, the collar open, but you saw that he was struggling with the small buttons, his fingers barely working. “May I?” you asked, gesturing toward his shirt. The sooner he was out of the wet garment, the better.

He paused for a second, contemplating. “Yes,” he consented, lowering his hand at his side. Stepping forward, your hands resumed his work, quickly undoing the rest of it. Do not make a big deal of this, you repeated in your mind. You were simply helping a friend not die from hypothermia, not unbuttoning the shirt of the person you were hopelessly in love with. He shrugged it off, practically peeling it from his body. You were especially careful to only look him in the eye now, not daring to look at his newly exposed chest. 

Turning your back to him to hang up the shirt, the unmistakable clang of his belt hitting the floor had you stilling. Exhaling shakily, you heard him take off the remainder of his clothes, all making themselves comfortable on the floor. You didn’t dare turn around to grab them. Instead, you headed towards the bed, pulling off the heavy duvet. Walking backwards, you held it out to him behind you. You heard him murmur out a small thanks, taking the blanket from your outstretched arms. 

You gave him a few moments. “Are you… decent?” you asked, keeping your gaze up even with your back turned. When he gave a noise of confirmation, you finally turned back around. After situating his discarded clothing, you gathered some of the canned goods strewn about before setting your boots next to Charles’ beside the fire. You sat down next to him on the various furs and bedrolls. Charles had the blanket wrapped around his body, and you tried really hard to not concentrate on the fact that he was completely bare under the duvet. 

You opened one of the cans with your knife, tossing the lid of it behind you and handing it to the man beside you. “Eat. You need to get your strength up.” You saw him open his mouth to protest, but you cut him off before he could. “There’s plenty of food for the both of us. Now, eat.” You pushed the can of what looked to be sweetcorn in his hand, and he finally took it, tipping it back into his mouth and eating slowly. 

He was still shivering, but he was slowly becoming more and more alert, and his teeth had ceased their chattering. Quickly finishing the can of food, he placed the empty can beside him, rubbing his hands together beneath the blanket. You were looking into the fire, and you could feel his eyes on you. He didn’t say anything, just observing you like he normally did. 

This time, however, it felt like his eyes were picking you apart, like he could see every secret beneath your skin. Clearing your throat, you stood up, gathering up the remainder of his clothing and hanging them up. You were scared that the longer you sat by him, the likelihood of you having to confront your secrets would increase tenfold. “You need anythin’? More food? Water? Coffee?” You asked, drying your hands on your pants. 

“I’m g-good,” he responded. 

“Have you warmed up at all?” He shrugged in response, the action barely noticeable with the heavy blanket around his shoulders. You didn’t bother to hide the concerned frown on your lips as you crouched beside him. Running the back of your hand, you winced when you were met with deathly cold skin. “Shit…” you cursed, pulling your hand away, and you failed to notice Charles chasing after your warmth.

Standing up, you began to pace the room, trying to keep the dread you felt at bay. Your mind was running wild with thoughts, all ending in worse case scenarios. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to keep calm, just for Charles’ sake. You wouldn’t do him any good if you were freaking out. You tried to think back on the basic first aid you’d learned through the years. Most of the things you’d already done, like getting him out of wet clothing, getting him food, getting him in front of a fire. Was there anything else you could do? Or did you just have to sit and wait and pray that what you did was enough.

You knew Charles was watching you pace, doing nothing to calm your racing heart. You ran your fingers through your hair, a gasp leaving your lips when you finally remembered. Body heat, which means… oh. 

Goddamn it all. 

You hoped you didn’t look too alarmed. It’s not that you were opposed to the idea, but it would make it significantly harder to bottle up your feelings. In fact, doing this might just smash the bottle all together, causing you to spill your heart to him. “So…” you began nervously. How the hell were you supposed to ask this?

“So…?” Charles repeated, raising a brow. 

“I-I… well…” you ran your hand over your face. The wall was looking quite interesting right now. “I was wondering if you’d like… I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin’... if you’d like for me to share my warmth?” That sounds so weird. “It’s just, you’re not gettin’ any better… and I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. I couldn’t bear it.” The last part you whispered, and you doubted he even heard it. 

Something flickered across Charles’ face, too quick for you to recognize. He looked conflicted, and you chewed nervously on your lips. Did I cross a line? Oh God, did I make this weird? He’s gonna hate me-

“I’d like that,” his voice cut off your minds’ rambling. 

Letting out a breath of relief, you gave him a small smile, which he returned. Okay, this is happening. Again, do not make a big deal of this. This means nothing. Your hands, which weren’t steady, began to work at your button up. Charles slowly looked away, his eyes darkening slightly. “I’m not gonna take everythin’ off,” you reassured, taking the look in his eye as concern. Taking your gun belt off and setting it on the bed, your pants and socks were off next, joining the belt, leaving you in only your undergarments. 

Slowly, you approached him, your steps uncertain across the bedrolls and furs. You tried to keep calm, but the reality of what was going to happen quite soon was causing your heart to pound against your ribs. He watched you approach, head turned back around. You couldn't imagine it was comfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

Finally, you stood in front of him, partially blocking the fire, which caused your shadow to cast over Charles. Without breaking eye contact with you, he pulled the blanket back, inviting you in. Your shadow, thankfully, blocked out any newly revealed skin, but you still found a blush creeping up your neck. 

Without giving yourself a chance to back out, you sat yourself on his lap. With your legs wrapping around his hips, your ankles were barely able to interlock. His following sigh sounded pleased, and you found yourself smiling as he wrapped the blanket around the two of you, creating something akin to a cocoon. He kept his hands braced on the ground beside him, refraining from touching you.

Charles was indeed freezing, and you let out a discontent noise at the contact. “Sorry,” you more felt than heard him say, your faces mere inches apart. 

“I should be the one who’s sayin’ that…” you sighed, and you rested your hands on his shoulders, beginning the process of warming his body back to a normal temperature. “I should’ve been payin’ better attention, then we would’ve never ended up in this mess.” Not that I’m complaining too much. 

The two of you sat together for a few minutes, letting Charles simply enjoy your body heat. “I don’t think either of us were expecting an O’Driscoll to come falling out of a tree.” You heard him say.

“It certainly wasn’t on my list of things to happen today,” you laughed, your hands moving down his shoulders to his biceps. Having him under your touch like this really put into perspective his sheer size. “And neither is this. Any of this. I’m sure you weren’t plannin’ on takin’ a bath in Lake Isabella today.”

“Can’t say I was. But, you-” Charles cut himself off, his eyes widening the tiniest bit. If you weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You gave him a confused look, and he just shook his head. “It’s nothing. I almost said something foolish,” he tried to dismiss, embarrassment evident on his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say somethin’ foolish the entire time I’ve known you.” You tugged at one of his arms, bringing it between your bodies after he shifted his weight on to the other arm. You clasp his uninjured hand between yours, blowing hot air and trying your best to return some life back to the ice cubes that were his fingers. “You know I ain’t gonna tease you for what you say, right?”

“I know,” Charles sighed, but he didn’t elaborate further. You didn’t push, not wanting to wreck this moment between the two of you. You felt him flex his fingers between yours, a relieved noise leaving him as more feeling returned to them. Eventually, you let go of his hand, but it seemed like he didn’t quite know where to put it, hovering a few inches above your waist before returning back to the ground. “You can touch me, Charles.”

You held back a content noise when you finally felt him grasp your waist, his fingers resting on the waistband of your undergarments. Occasionally, his fingers would brush your bare skin, your undershirt having rid up when you had sat down, and you felt goosebumps erupt across your skin. 

Moving to his injured hand, you eyed the now wrecked bandage, blood and water causing the material to practically dissolve. You tsked disapprovingly, and began to peel off the old wrapping, discarding them across the cabin. You were expecting to see the wound completely reopened, especially because of the punches he threw at the O’Driscoll, but were pleasantly surprised to find a pretty much healed injury. It was slightly irritated, sure, but it must’ve been healed for at least a day or two.

“And here I was scared that we’d have to chop off your hand,” you joked, flipping his arm over as you examined the now scar. “This has been healed for a day or two now. You’re probably only gonna have a light scar from this.” Realization dawned on you, and you chuckled. “Charles, you could’ve gone huntin’ on your own today.”

“I could’ve.” He didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “Still, I did want to do it with you, but I could’t just ask. I needed an excuse.”

“You never need an excuse, Charles. I’ll gladly go huntin’ with you, injured hand or not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You felt him squeeze your hip gently, a playful grin on his face. It had your stomach doing somersaults, and you tore your eyes away to begin warming up his other hand. It was strange, seeing him so carefree like this. It was a look you’d never really seen on him, but you rather enjoyed it. “Only hunting?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you teased, drawing out the syllables. “Whatcha have in mind?”

“Not quite sure yet. But it’ll just be us.”

“Like a date?” You joked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Sure. Like a date.”

A giddy smile cracked across your lips, and you gingerly kissed the back of Charles’ hand before letting it go, where it immediately joined his other by settling on your waist. Your ears were burning, a flustered blush growing across your body. Here you were, sitting on a naked Charles’ lap, only the thin material of your undergarments separating the two of you, but the thing that made you bashful was him asking you on a date. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, the hands on your waist moving up your back, keeping your body pressed close to him. The digits were still a bit chilled, but you didn’t mind. The blanket around the two of you was barely hanging on at this point, and you tried your best to keep it around him. Like he did on the horse, you felt him bury his face in the crook where your neck and shoulders connected. 

Although it was significantly less cold than the last time, you still shivered at the contact. You felt his lips brush against the skin, and you could barely feel the light kiss he pressed there, gone in an instant. So many thoughts and emotions were running through your mind at that moment. You mostly felt relieved, your feelings for the man no longer feeling so one-sided. Your mind was so loud, in fact, that you barely heard him mumble something against your skin. You realized that he was thanking you, and you responded with a confused noise.

“You saved my life today. Twice. I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“I wouldn’t’ve just left you, Charles. I couldn’t. I…” you trailed off, a confession ready to leave your lips. The bottle had cracked, its contents spilling out as you tried to damndest to keep it all contained. “If I remember correctly, you also saved me today. Nothin’ good would’ve happened if you weren’t there today.”

You felt him tense, an almost pained sound leaving him. “When I saw you like that… I don’t ever want to see that again.”

You moved back so that you could see him again, and you cupped the side of his face with your hand, relieved to find the skin significantly warmer than it was moments ago. “I’m alright. Thanks to you, I’m safe.” 

He relaxed slightly, but his eyes were filled with so much sadness that it had you frowning. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared before,” he whispered, resting his own hand atop yours. “The best thing in my life, and I almost lost it today.” Both of you seemed surprised by his words, but you didn’t let him backtrack.

“But you didn’t. You are the one who got that man off me, and showed him the error of his ways.”

He chuckled at that, but then another frown adorned his lips. “I didn’t… unsettle you, right? I… I saw your eyes widen after you called me off him. You’re not-”

“Never. I know you’d never hurt me.”

Relieved, you felt him go fully lax under your touch. His whole body had returned to a normal temperature, you noted, the heat under the blanket beginning to become sweltering. With your thumb, you stroked his cheek, feeling the raised skin of the scar across his cheek. He let go of your hand, moving it back to the ground to keep the two of you propped up as you leaned forward. The duvet fell slightly, exposing his shoulder to the air, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Keeping your hand on his cheek, your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Although, I do think you looked rather beautiful.”

He practically shuddered, a pleased smile on your mouth as you leaned back again. Keeping only a few inches between your faces, you watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips before returning up. “Yeah?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low.

You nodded, the fingers on his cheek moving to brush a few strands away from his face. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out but not because of the low light. “I always think you look beautiful,” you murmured. 

He hummed in response, and you felt the hand on your back creek up, resting at the nape of your neck. He didn’t pull you forward, he just held you. “Next to you, however, I imagine I look quite plain.”

“Oh, hush,” you chided while smiling. 

“I’m serious.” You felt him play with the hair at your neck, fingers running lightly through the strands. “It’s distracting, how beautiful you are. Whenever I walk into a room and you’re in there, you’re the first thing I look at, and I can never bring myself to look away. At night at camp, you look so at ease, the fire illuminates your face in a way that makes you look ethereal. I can do nothing but watch you, too stunned to speak. You plague every waking thought, and you haunt my dreams. You’ve unknowingly burrowed yourself into my heart, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You were at a loss for words, your mouth moving but no words actually came out. Choosing to ignore the way your heart celebrated, you let out an airy chuckle. “I think that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk.” 

He laughed. “I can keep it short, if you’d like?”

“I didn’t mean that,” you scoffed. “What could possibly condense all that?”

Charles gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe you hadn’t caught on by now. A part of you knew what he was going to say, but you wouldn't believe it. You needed to hear it from his lips. The hand playing with your hair stilled, the only sound being the crackling fire behind you. 

“I’m in love with you.” 

He said it like it was the simplest thing ever, like it hadn’t just completely flipped your world upside down. He had taken your bottled up feelings and opened it himself. Taking your responding silence as a negative thing, you felt his hand fall slightly, a worried look crossing his face. You didn’t give him much time to worry, pulling him closer with the hand still cupping his face. Your foreheads connected, and your lips were almost brushing. “You mean it?” 

“Of course.”

“Well… for how long?”

“How long have I been with the gang?”

Surprised, you laughed lightly, and he visibly looked confused. “So this entire time, you felt the same way?”

It took a second for him to process your words, a wide grin appearing when he did. “I guess so.” He paused for a moment, and you felt him take a deep breath. “You love me?” He asked, his voice small and uncertain. 

You moved your face back an inch, giving you room to nod. “I do. For the same amount of time, too. I was too scared to say anythin’, I didn’t wanna ruin what we had. And I kinda thought I annoyed you to death,” you chuckled. “But if today reminded me of anythin’, it’s that this life is too unpredictable to have regrets.”

“Arthur gave you that lecture too?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn't heed your warning about not playing matchmaker with you and Charles. But still, you might have to thank him later. “Despite what he claims, he’s a nosy bastard.”

He hummed in agreement, and a silence hung over the room, anticipation heavy in the air. With the lightest touch, you felt him bring you forward with the hand on the back of your head. “I wanna hear you say it,” you heard him ask. 

“I love you, darlin’.” Both hands now cupped his cheeks, and you hovered your lips above his. “Kiss me?”

“Gladly.” You felt his hand move to cradle your head, pulling you in the final distance until your lips were colliding. There was only a hint of chill left on his skin, easily melting away against your warm mouth.  His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and you let out a pleased sigh. It was a surprisingly quick kiss, and you sucked in a breath when you felt him pull away, his eyes blown out. 

He was also panting, and his fingers wove into your hair, like he was grounding himself. Moving forward, you tried to reconnect your lips, but he moved his head so that your lips collided with his cheek instead. A jolt of panic shot through your body, thinking you horribly misread the situation. “I want… I want this,” he reassured. “But I want to make sure you want this. That you want… me.”

You’d never met a man like Charles Smith, and you’re sure you’d never meet another like him. Never, ever had you heard of or met a man explicitly asking for consent like this, and it got you more excited than you thought it would. “I’ve wanted this for a while now,” you admitted, resting your touch on the junction where his shoulders and neck met. “I’ve dreamed of a moment like this more times than I can count. I want you, Charles. I need-”

In a complete switch up, he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your words. If the first kiss had been gentle and hesitant, this one was hungry and confident, lips eagerly moving against yours. He was practically devouring you, like he couldn’t get enough of you. With every small noise that left you, he seemed to grow more bold, and you felt the fingers in your hair tug slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it caused your lips to part. Within seconds his tongue swept into your mouth, eager to explore you. 

The blanket had long since fallen off, bunched up on the ground surrounding the two of you. Pushing him lightly on his shoulders, you eased him on his back. Your hands planted on his chest when he made contact with the furs, your lips not separating for a moment. He was a pleasant temperature under your fingers, his skin surprisingly soft, just like his lips. You were straddling his waist now, your hands barely keeping you from laying your entire weight on the man. 

He had let go of your head, his hands moving to your waist to keep you secure. His grip was strong, but not enough to leave a mark. A part of you wanted him to, but you didn’t say anything. If he wanted you like you wanted him, then there would be a next time.

Rocking your hips, you felt a growing hardness barely separated by your thin undergarments. You felt him groan when you did so, and he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth. When he moved his head away to suck in some air, your hands snaked back up his neck, nearly covering his ears. You’d thought your attempts at warming him up were fruitful, but when you felt how cold his ears were, you made a concerned noise, your lust temporarily forgotten. “Your ears are freezing…”

He looked like he couldn’t care less, but then a mischievous smile crossed his face. “You gonna warm them up, then?”

“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do?” You giggled, and you made sure that your hands fully covered them. You had easy access to his lips, and you gave him a quick kiss. 

“Not with your hands, my love.”

You smiled at the endearment, but his statement confused you. Cocking your head to the side, you moved your hands off his face, settling them back on his chest. “What-?”

You didn’t get to finish your question, the hands on your hips effortlessly pulling your up toward his face. Your knees now straddled the sides of his head, your thighs practically where your hands were, covering his ears. You looked down at him with wide eyes, a flush creeping up your neck at the implications. Surely he doesn't want that, right?

Charles let out a satisfied noise, and with his hands now on your thighs he eased you on to him. You let him, but you kept a few inches between his mouth and your body. He genuinely seemed upset by that, and you felt him press a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing a shiver to run through your body.

“Please, let me taste you,” he pressed another kiss to the inside of your legs, this one closer to your aching center. If he moved any closer, he was bound to feel your wetness through the fabric. “I want you to fall apart on my face.”

You exhaled shakily. “You want to?” You asked, almost in disbelief. This man was unreal.

He nodded, the action causing his chin to brush against your center. “Let me make you feel good, my love.” When he pulled you down again, you didn’t keep any distance between the two of you. You felt him press a kiss to your clothed center, a smug grin on his face when he felt your arousal. He didn’t say anything, just pulling you down closer to his face until your legs were fully wrapped around his head, no space between the two of you. 

You felt his tongue flick out, simply tasting you through the damp fabric. He did it again, and again, and his hands tightened on your thighs. He was indirect with his tongue, but each swipe had you letting out small moans. A mix of his saliva and your arousal was causing the fabric to become even more wet; they were most certainly going to be wrecked. 

The small kitten-licks were nice, but you needed more. Charles knew this too, and you felt him work his fingers under the material of your undergarments, pulling them down your ass and thighs. It took some awkward maneuvering, but eventually the garment was off, being tossed somewhere to the side by you, leaving you in only your undershirt.

He wasted no time, pulling you back down onto his face with a growl. Parting you with a pass of his tongue, he let out a pleased noise, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. Charles was insatiable now, lapping and drinking you like you were the best goddamn meal he’s ever had. His eyes were hooded, drunk on you. When his broad strokes turned into concentrated flicks on your clit, you moaned loudly, your thighs turning vice-like around his head. 

It spurred him on, working your clit with markman’s accuracy, bringing you closer and closer to your climax in record time. You heard him groan something under you, and you let out a breathy sigh when you realized he was groaning your name over and over again.  

This entire time, you had kept your hands to yourself, but you were growing more and more desperate to touch him. Reaching down, your hands tangled in his hair, and then almost immediately releasing it like it burned you. For a second, you panicked, thinking yet again you crossed a line, which seemed to be a repeating event this evening. You knew his hair was an important part of his culture, and you would never forgive yourself if you did something to upset him.

Without even slowing down a beat, you felt him grab your hand, leading your back towards his head. He closed his eyes when he felt you weave your fingers through the locks, his hips bucking when you tugged slightly. 

You were getting close now, and you felt yourself moving against his face in time with his tongue. “Charles,” you whined, and he hummed in response. “I’m- I’m gettin’ close, darlin’,”

As you neared your release, you heard the sound of skin-on-skin from behind you. Turning around, you saw Charles stroking himself, getting off to eating you out. “Oh my God… Charles…” you breathed out, barely able to tear your eyes away from the beautiful sight behind you.

His eyes were hazy with lust as he peered up at you from between your legs, and you could feel yourself begin to tip over the edge. Sighing out his name, you felt him grin. Before you could even process it, he sucked on your clit, pushing you over that edge as you came hard on his face. You were crying out his name, but your voice sounded distant to your ears, temporarily out of your body as you orgasmed. Charles kept his tongue moving as you came, drawing out every bit of pleasure from your body.

It took you a few moments to recover, and the first thing you were able to hear was the obscene noise leaving Charles’ mouth as he drank in your release. Secondly, you realized you had a death-grip on Charles’ hair, and you quickly let go, and you tried to apologize, but your words were jumbled. He continued to lap at you, but it quickly became too much, your body beginning to feel overstimulated. You rolled off of him, being mindful of the fireplace even in your post-orgasmic haze.

Glancing over at Charles, you found him already watching you, just like he would do in camp. With a soft smile, you scooted closer until you were pressed into his side. He gave you his arm to la on, and you felt him kiss the top of your head. It was silent between the two of you, simply taking the moment to catch your breaths and recover. 

You couldn’t help looking down, though, having to stifle a gasp when you saw how big he actually was, having only gotten a glimpse of him early. He was going to feel good, but you knew you would be sore for a few days after. Not that you cared. 

Looking back up at him, you let your fingers trail up his chest, resting right above his heart. It was beating erratically, just like yours, and you heard him let out a noise when your fingers “accidently” brushed over his nipple. You heard him whine out your name, and you slowly sat up. You were able to see him clearer now, and he looked like a mess. His face was covered in your slick, glistening in the firelight, and his hair was all tousled from your fingers. But the best part was the pure bliss on his features.

It was almost comical, the way his eyes snapped open when you pulled off your shirt, exposing your chest to him. “You’ve got somethin’ on your face,” you tried to joke, but your voice was quite hoarse. You tossed your shirt at him, giving him something to wipe his mouth with. He merely set it to the side, unbothered with the mess. Propping himself up with an arm, he offered you his free hand, pulling you forward when you took it in yours.

You nearly fell right on top of him, your muscles pure jelly. Laughing, you were just able to get upright before he was kissing you. It was weird, tasting yourself on him, but you found you didn’t mind. You didn’t keep your lips on his for too long, moving down his jaw, then down his neck. You weren’t straddling his hips, so the positioning was a tad bit uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. 

Moving down further, you trailed kissed across his collarbones, then down his sternum, his breathing growing uneven as you went lower and lower. A hand now rested on the back of your head as you continued downward, reaching a patch of hair that started at his belly button. It surprised you, the rest of his body being relatively hairless, but you weren't complaining. In fact, you were imagining seeing it peek out from under his shirt as he stretched, his clothing riding up with his arms. Even though it was relatively innocent in the light of everything else the two of you were doing, it had you pressing your thighs together, trying to relieve the returning ache between them.

Following the happy trail, you ran your fingers through the hair as you adjusted closer to his member. His was achingly hard at this point, and his breathing stilled when you ghost your lips over the tip. Leaning over him, you flicked your tongue out, licking up the bead of precum. The hand and your head tightened into a ball, and you could tell he was fighting every urge to buck himself down your throat. Next time, you thought. 

Moving down further so that you sat between his legs, you spit into your hand before you grasped him. He was velvety soft as you slowly began to stroke him, a mix of your name and a moan leaving his lips as you did so. With heavy eyes and part lips, he watched you pleasure him. “You feel so good in my hand,” you murmured, “butI think you’ll feel even better in me, no?”

His response was slightly incoherent, but you could tell he was agreeing with you. “In a second, darlin’. I wanna taste you, too.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Charles found his voice again, although it sounded very strained.

“But I want to. Don’t make me beg for it.” You weren’t really intended to suggest anything, but the look on Charles’ face at your comment had you grinning. “Unless you want me to?”

“I-” he was stunned, but you could tell he was imagining it, and liking it. 

“Please, darlin’, let me suck your cock,” you fluttered your lashes at him. “I bet you taste so good… just let me taste you, please. I need it so bad, darlin’. I need your cock-”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Charles cursed, which was more arousing than you thought it would be. “Yeah, go ahead, my love.”

Pressing one last kiss to the tip, you flattened your tongue and ran it up his length, and you heard him moan. You did it a few times, receiving a similar reaction each time. Eventually, you slowly took the tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around while doing so. Taking more and more of him into your mouth, you were only able to take him halfway before he was pressing against the back of your throat, and you relaxed as best you could, not wanting to trigger your gag reflex.

Taking the rest of him in your hand, you began to bob your head up and down. Hollowing your cheeks until you reached the tip of him, you then ran your tongue across the slit, before moving back down his length, keeping your tongue flat. You repeated this action for a while, falling into an easy rhythm. You felt him buck up a few times, but other than that he kept his hips relatively still, letting you have your way with him. His hand didn’t push you further down him, he just simply held you, moving back the hairs that tried to fall in your face. 

You heard him moan out your name, and you groaned. “You feel so good, my love,” he praised. His words turned into a surprised moan, whe, with your free hand, started moving slowly up his thigh, moving inward until you brushed against his balls. He nearly jumped with the contact, causing his cock to go further down your throat than you'd like, causing you to rear back coughing. 

Immediately, he was apologizing. His hand was now on your cheek, wiping away the spit around your mouth as you recovered. “Are you alright?” He asked, and you nodded, not trusting your voice at that second. You could tell that he still felt bad, and you pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist. 

“I’m alright,” you managed to get out, and you cleared your throat some more. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“So did you, touching me like that” he teased, his earlier concerns dissipating when he saw that you truly were okay. “I wasn’t gonna last long even before you did that.” Pulling you up to him, he kissed you, and you finally straddled his waist, his cock resting between your bodies. 

You weren’t given much time to savor his lips before your world was quite literally turning as he flipped you on to your back. The furs nestled nicely against your skin, and you locked your legs around Charles’ waist, grinding yourself against his member. His head fell against your chest, and you felt him brush feather-light kisses across your skin, much like you did. But a new eagerness had overtaken you, and you grinded again against him, and you felt him chuckle. “Patience, my love.”

“I’ve waited long enough, Charles. I need you in me.”

“You think you’re ready for me?” If those words came out of any other man, you would’ve laughed at the arrogance those words held. But you knew it came out of a place of genuine concern for your wellbeing, scared of hurting you. He was large, and you knew that it was probably going to hurt when he entered you, but your lust fueled brain did not care. You need him in you now, consequences be damned.

“Please,” you whispered, and he adjusted so that his face was level with yours. 

“Alright, but if at any point-”

Kissing him quickly, you smiled at him, brushing back a long strand of hair that fell in his face. “I will. I trust you. Now,” you kissed him again, “fuck me.”

He didn’t respond, pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose before you felt him press into you. He kept his eyes on your face, gauging your reaction as he slowly entered you. The initial breach was always the worst part, and you couldn’t help the slight grimace that crossed your features as he breached your entrance. He halted, but you urged him further by pressing your heels into his back. 

The stretch was unlike anything else you’d ever felt, satiating a need you didn’t know you had. Tangling your hands in his hair, you pulled your face against yours, resting your foreheads together. “God, you feel so good,” you panted as he pressed himself deeper into you. You were certain that he was going to ruin you for any other man. 

Hearing him chuckle made you realize you said that last part aloud. “After this, you’re stuck with me, my love.”

Because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, and you were curious to see how deep his possessive side went, you pushed further. “Am I now?” Yes. 

For a second, it seemed like Charles couldn’t tell that you were teasing, but when he saw the playful glint in your eye he played along. “Do you think anyone else could make you feel like this?”

He was nearly fully sheathed in you, and you fought the urge to just pull him the rest of the way into you “I dunno. If I remember right, I asked you to fuck me. It sure don’t feel like you’re doin’ that.”

Finally, he was fully in you, your hips flushed together. You both let out content moans, and Charles gave you a moment to adjust. “You want me to fuck you?” He confirmed, and the words sounded even filthier coming from his mouth. 

“If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.” 

Letting out something akin to a growl, he pulled out of you quickly, leaving only the tip in before he was slamming back into you, hands gripping your hips tightly. He set a brutal pace, and your head rolled back, your moans and cries filling the air. With the way your head was, it caused your back to arch, meaning your breasts were right in his face. With zero hesitation, he took one into his mouth, sucking and toying with the nipple in his mouth. Releasing it, he switched to the other one, making sure to give both apt attention. 

Tugging at his hair, you brought his attention upwards. Smashing your lips against his, your kiss was open-mouth and messy, more tongue and teeth than anything. His hips were snapping against yours, incessant as he pounded into you. 

“Yes! Charles,” you wailed, tearing your lips away from his to do so. He kept his lips busy, nipping and kissing the skin at your jaw and neck. A particularly hard bite had you gasping, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way; all that you could register was him, the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he looked. 

He leaned over you now, broad arms caging your head in. His dark hair fell in waves around him, blocking out any other visual in the room. All you could do was look at him, and he was a sight for sore eyes. Color had long since returned to his cheeks, the skin there darkening with exertion. His eyes were locked on to you, dancing around your face and chest like he couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to look at. His plush lips were parted, soft gasps of air leaving him with each thrust.

Another snap of his hips had you grasping at his back and shoulders, pleasuring washing over you as another orgasm began to build up. Your nails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks, but it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, he let out a low moan, and it had your cunt clenching around his cock. 

Babbling his name, your nails ran down his back, leaving in its wake angry red lines. “You feel so good… like you were made for me.”

“My love…” he sighed, and one of the hands at the side of your head cupped your face,  bringing you right to his lips. His length was reaching places in you that you didn’t know existed, filling you deep and hard, just like you wanted. You were going to become addicted to him. 

“I’m so close, Charles…” Releasing one of his shoulders, you snaked your hand between your bodies, moving to start touching yourself. You weren’t expecting him to quickly grasp your wrist, bringing it out of the way and replacing your hand with his much larger one. He began to rub at your clit, slow circular movements that juxtaposed the fast in-and-out of his cock. His ministrations had you seeing stars, and you felt yourself reaching completion again that night. 

“Charles, I-”

“I know. Let me feel you fall apart.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

His slow movements turned rapid, groaning when he felt you clench around him. With a cry of his name, you came, pleasure rolling over you in waves. This one was stronger than the first, feeling like every nerve in your body had been set aflame. Your eyes rolled back, the world temporarily turning dark as your eyelids shut. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, a reverent look in his gaze. With the way your walls were fluttering around him, and the quickened pace of his hips, you knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

His arms went back around your head, continuing to move as he chased his own release. You heard him gasp out, quickly pulling out of you, and you let out a discontent noise as he no longer filled you. He stroked himself a few times, hand moving fervently up and down his length. If you weren’t so fucked out of your mind, you would’ve had taken him in your hand yourself, wanting to feel him as well. Moaning your name, you watched as he came, his release spilling over your stomach. His hips canted forward a few times as he worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You loosened your legs that were wrapped around his waist, and silence hung over the two of you as you both processed what just happened. A small laugh left you, breaking the trance, and you saw him smile back at you, mirroring his laughter with his own. You watched him grab the blanket that was still bundled up on the floor, and he tore off a section of it, the sound of fabric ripping startling you slightly. 

Wiping his release from your skin, he tossed the soiled cloth to some corner of the room. It’s not like this was your place, anyways. Opening your arms, you invited him to lay with you, and he gladly accepted. He was careful to keep his full weight off of you, but he still lay partially on top of you, his head resting on your chest. It was comforting, and you felt yourself begin to grow a bit sleepy. “Are you warm yet?” You teased, running your fingers soothingly through his hair, and you felt his chest rumble with laughter.

“I think so,” he responded, bringing the blanket around your bodies. The fire was starting to die down, but neither of you moved to add fuel to it. He murmured something, and you gave an inquisitive sound. “I love you,” he repeated, his brown eyes filled with emotion as he stared up at you.

“I love you, too.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he quickly shut it. “What is it?” You asked, and he sighed, his warm breath tickling you.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?”

In all honesty, you had completely forgotten about your earlier conversation. The vulnerability in his voice had your eyes watering, and it didn’t take much thinking to reach your answer. Sure, you were scared for the future of the gang, and you were scared that with each passing day you’d find yourself closer and closer to finding your end at a rope or a barrel, but none of those fears mattered, not anymore. Not when you finally had all that you wanted in your arms. And who knows, maybe you’d end up leaving in time, but you knew you wouldn’t be leaving alone.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. Besides, you still owe me a date.”

His responding smile solidified that you had made the right decision. Whatever the future held, you knew it would be easier with Charles by your side.

[lexithwrites]

love love love the sugar daddy au, do you have any nsfw thoughts to spare?

this is kinda gonna just be their first time together as im not 100% on their dynamic overall,,,,bare with me whilst i figure this couple out:

i feel like their first kiss is when they're drunk at regulus' penthouse, like they're sat on the sofa watching something or listening to music and talking and drinking some nice wine and regulus is looking away as remus stares at him and then just kinda leans a little closer at first

regulus flinches, he's never used to physical touch anymore, and then looks at remus and realises he genuinly wants to kiss him, thats it, and he leans in so their lips touch and its immediate fireworks

both of them feel electric and the soft kiss turns into deep kissing, slow and sensual, then passionate and desperate as they touch and grip and feel and grope and start to moan into each other's mouths but then regulus jumps back because he's scared, he hasn't done this in so long and he doesn't know what to feel and remus is so apologetic about it

then,,,,the sexual tension becomes too much

regulus caves, he goes to remus' flat when james is out with his brother and just,,,he kisses him so desperatley, moaning into his mouth about how horny he is and that he cant stop thinking about remus and he needs to fuck him and remus is all for it, he's been in the same boat

but regulus knows what he wants and he knows how this is going to go, so he lays out ground rules, safe words, dos and donts etc and remus is all for it, its the most safe and seen he's felt having sex EVER

regulus takes the lead, he feels every inch of remus before even taking his clothes off and its the best kind of torture

remus is a pretty submissive guy and he's under his spell straight away, just whimpering and pleading for regulus to let him touch him but he isnt ready, he needs his fill of remus first

regulus is,,,very good at giving head. he doesn't have a lot of experiance with partners but he watches porn, he has toys, he knows what he's doing, and remus' thighs are shaking by the end of it

regulus has never seen this intense look of pleasure ever on a partners face and he's actually flustered, he didnt expect remus to enjoy it so much but then he's being thrown on the bed and its time,,,he has to let remus see him naked

now, im a trans reg truther always, so he's very nervous. remus knows he's trans, they've had this talk, but he's never had sex with someone after transitioning and he's so scared remus will hate the scars and maybe hate the fact that he doesn't have a 'real' dick, remus loves his body so much its crazy

he's never been so attracted to someone and he wants to devour him,,,so he does

remus' sexuality is a bit of a mystery to me, but i feel like he's had experiance with,,,everything that can be down there, and he just gives regulus his fucking all, he's sloppy and messy but so precise and attentive, every time regulus tugs his hair he stays in that spot, every new moan and gasp is what he wants again and again, its amazing,,,he does himself proud

and then the actual fucking,,,its a bit awkward

remus has to get condoms and regulus is lying there watching him and then gets under the sheets so he's comfortable, and then remus is leaning over him just staring into his eyes and saying how beautiful and handsome he is and regulus just blushes and tells him to put it in already, and remus frowns

'i want this to last forever, regulus...dont you?' and regulus melts, plus it makes him wet af to hear that

and god,,,the sex is good guys, its so good

neither has ever felt this good before and its overwhelming in the best way

they're both panting and moaning and gripping at ecah other, begging for more and almost on the verge of tears because they've never felt so connected to another person, and its a mix of hot and fast and hard and slow and deep and loving and its just,,,UGH

they're a hot fucking couple idc

and afterwards when they're both cleaned and showered and the sheets are changed, regulus will NOT sleep in a dirty bed, they're lying together naked, just gently touching each other and holding each other, regulus confesses that he's been so scared to have sex again because he didn't think he'd ever enjoy it, he never did as a woman so why would he as a man? why would people care about his pleasure now?

and remus just kisses his forehead and promises to never let him feel that way again

regulus wakes remus up with a blowjob the next morning and rides him for ages, they basically spend the next three days fucking and going down on each other to make up for lost time until remus has to go back to work and even then he comes home in the afternoon to naked regulus in bed napping, and he's so fucking happy

[wolfintestinez]

ADAM STANHEIGHT HEADCANONS : 📼

hi hi ! here’s a few of my headcanons ! it’s not all of them but it’s the ones i have down, at the very least. 🗡️

- religious wendys / burger king eater.

- also a huge pepsi drinker, he rarely drinks anything else.

- as before, i am a tongue piercing truther, but it’s the only piercing he has. he’s scared of needles and it was a stupid thing that scott convinced him to do, he barely made it out of the healing process.

- it’s often he is rolling it around in his mouth without even realizing it, like he’s fidgeting.

- if he’s not listening to his ‘obscure’ hardcore bands, he’s listening to shit like oingo boingo. he will NOT admit it.

- he sticks around scott because he didn’t make too many friends in highschool, and he can’t stand the idea of having to start anew when it comes to the whole social scene. besides, being friends with scott has its perks (even if it means dealing with the toxicity). for example, there’s always something to do on a friday night.

- he didn’t drop out of highschool, but he did drop out of community college. he couldn’t be motivated to actually decide on what to do with his life, so he chose the only hobby he really enjoyed and made a career out of it. needless to say, his parents were not happy.

- speaking of his parents , he’s only close with his mother (kind of). his parents weren’t married, and have an odd relationship. his father is negligent, and pretty much just an asshole, while his mother cared about him enough to try and help when she could. but most of the time she stands by his fathers side, trying to play mediator.

- he only hates his father more as he sees his temper in himself. he’s angry, but he’s not sure what he’s ever exactly angry at. if anything, he’s an all around emotional guy, he just doesn’t know how to display them. he tends to blow up when overwhelmed.

- awkwardly charismatic, we can see this in the deleted ‘rockstar’ scene. it’s the weird bouts of confidence he gets, but it can so easily be torn down and his sarcastic self defense mechanism gets kicked in.

- undiagnosed autistic IDC IDC !!! his special interest is photography and biology. weirdly enough, he always had the highest grades in his biology classes.

- when he drinks he’s a lot more social, but he can get out of control really fast. an impulsive drinker if anything. he can get stupid and start fights that he definitely cannot win.

- sort of insecure when in relationships, but he doesn’t ever have the guts to speak about until he’s making snide remarks and blowing up a few days later.

- has way too much knowledge over b-list horror movies, it annoys anyone who’s watching one with him. he really enjoys killer klowns from outer space.

- a cat person, he feeds the strays outside of his apartment complex. if he knew that he could support a pet financially, he would take on in.

- very blunt with his opinions, which will also get him into a lot of trouble. if he thinks your favorite movie of artist is bad, then he’s gonna say it.

- a touch starved loser, but he’s not good at initiating it. but as soon as he gets the go ahead, there’s no boundary doubting him.

[gojosatorailme]

How Lookism characters would eat you out

- Daniel, vasco, zack, gun, goo, Dg

Daniel Park

He’s a virgin. Cant expect much homie

I’d expect him to be a quick learner so he’d look at you throughout it, very experimental with it

Soft kitten licks soft kitten licks soft kitten licks.

Oh? You like it here instead? Okay! He’ll go crazy 💯

Id see him as quite shy and nervous as he wouldn’t know what he’s doing though he’d get more comfortable and confident with reassuring words!

As he gets more used to it you’ll be in tears

Soft and sensual licks, his face buried inside you flicking his tongue the way he knows drives you crazy

UI Daniel on the other hand… a menace. Absolute menace.

Forget walking bby you’ll forget how to think all together

Goodluck soldier

Vasco

I LOVE VASCO

WHYRE HIS BONKERS SO FUCKING HUGE????

He’s so cute I feel like he’d be so dumb and lick the left flap

Like I KNOW he’d do smt wrong by accident bc the poor guys just so confused

Somehow has a charm to him like somehow

Maybe it’s bc his milkers are so large you get delusional or maybe it’s bc his abs are all sweaty and he looks hot but theres SOME CHARM THERE

Vascos so cute

Would put your release before his like it’s a priority he’d put the burn knuckles on the line for it

Wants to make you feel good so teach him the way and he’d do wonders

Zack Lee

Stop joking honey hes a taken man

Keep scrolling home wrecker 🤬🤬

joking he’s also in the virgin gang ^^

Whole worrywart

He’d ask if he’s doing this right, if you feel good, or literally anything

I see him as a body worshipper or like he’d be into praise

Pls tell him he’s doing a good job

Very sweet I love zack

Still a taken man tho keep scrolling boo 😒

Gun

Would he even eat you out or would he get straight to pounding your brains out let’s think for a second

Have a strong feeling he’d be so aggressive

Strong and power licks. Like not even kidding

Have you seen his body maybe he does tongue workouts too u never know??

You want him to go slower? He’ll go faster. You want him to go faster? He’ll go slower. You want him eat you out at all? He’ll dip.

He’s such a menace for what

yk how he takes glasses off during fights? He does it while eating u out and I find it so oddly hilarious

Imagine he outs the glasses on and somehow gets turned on by it GOODBYE

Slaps ur genital area?? He’s mean. He’s just mean.

This is supposed to be like nsfw but it’s a parody atp I feel like gun was such a leash kid it’s so funny HE PROBS BIT A TEACHER IM FALLING IT IDK

He’ll go feral on u 💯 dick in or tongue in idc he’s a beast

He’d degrade u Roo like calling u a little slut for being turned on by how mean he’s being with u

Goo

HES JUST LIKE GUN BUT MORE GOOFY??

WOULD HE EVEN EAT U OUT FOR FREE?

Better get the bag before u think abt getting his tongue

u silly thing

He’d laugh idk and the vibrations would make your eyes roll back and ur all shivering

Would lick the left flap. But on purpose.

Teases u on purpose hes just so mean

he would listen to u either like no going fast hed go slow no going slow her go fast HES JUST LIKE GUN MF

Dg/James Lee

……….

Theres a lot to say but a lot not to say.

Eye contact. Mega eye contact.

Him as James Lee? A menace. I mean it’s already Canon that he’s a menace so why do u think he won’t be one in the bedroom?

ur so silly!

He’s James Lee the living legend of the first gen that’s know to be the best at literally every fucking thing HE WON POETRY LIKE MAD RESPECT IM SO BAD AT POETRY

If he’s good at everything he’s probably a god in the bedroom

ITS ALSO CANON HE HAS A BIG DICK

Maybe I’m biased and I love James but. Yeah.

You’ll be screaming, crying, fucked out, and all but keep going u got this!

him as DG however…

The same. Literally the same.

Both would be such a tease.

Also part of the mean group those little fuckers

He’s so unexpected to like could he giving u small kitten licks one second and the next his tongue is faster than flash like in being so fr

To conclude, he’s a god in the bedroom and I’d like to experience it first han-

The sex legend

[hughiecampbelle]

Tenderness (Roman Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Roman, Logan

Word Count: 1,572

Requested: "you're so cute." "what did you just say?" " said you look like a boot." With Roman denying he’s absolutely infatuated? - anon

Inspired By: Frances Forever by Mitski

A/N: I absolutely loved your request my love, I really hope I could do it justice!! The things I would do for that boy omg I love him!!! IDC what anyone thinks, he is so Mitski coded it breaks my heart!! 💞 Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Your head rest in the crook of his neck, your face falling into his shoulder. Listening to him breathe, laugh, instigate. Taking in his scent. Summery, wooden, clean. The cool air of the city night makes you squeeze next to him harder, desperately, his coat wrapped around your shoulders. His stubble is scratchy against your forehead, a welcomed sensation. The muscles of his jaw clench and unclench. He’s focused on something you’re not seeing, hearing, something bothering him. The rest of the party hums behind the panes of glass, the after dinner drum of heartbeats fast, fatal, in need of assurance. They speak lightly of million, billion dollar deals over drinks, waiting for desert. It’s you and him braving the moon and stars beneath the clouds, needing a moment to yourselves before you can go back in. Needing a moment to breathe. The rain had stopped, leaving nothing but puddles as evidence of its entire existence. One arm around you, the other rubbing at his eyes. It’s been a long night. How desperate you are to go home, crawl into bed beside him, find your way to his chest. How desperate you are to flee. You’d take off running if he weren’t clinging to you, needy in his own right. One more hour, maybe two. You could make it. As if he were thinking the same, Roman took a shaky breathe in. Not much longer. 

He feared you were desperately, unkindly unprepared to deal with them. The wolves, the monsters who bare their teeth, blood pooling in their spit. All of them ready to tear the next victim to shareds. Tear ligaments, shred tendons, spit out pieces of teeth and tongue. Nothing left but bones. Scraps. He wants to turn the car around. He wants to crawl back into bed, hide under the covers with you where it’s warm and safe and his father cannot get him. You can feel him startle at your touch, your fingers intertwined, your eyes never leaving the rainy city light of car window. He says something just as someone presses the horn of their car. You’re so cute. What was that? I said you look like a boot- fuck. You smile anyways, catching that first part. He thinks you’re cute. If he could, he would have stopped the car, the driver, stop time itself. Whatever you thought you were going into, whatever countless scenarios you’d thought of, it would never be enough. There would never be enough preparation in the world to deal with Logan Roy. He’d never introduced anyone to him before, never brought anyone home. He’d never needed to until he met you. From the very first date, he could picture it all going wrong. Catastrophize everything, then you’ll never be disappointed. You’ll never be let down. He warned you, practically begged you, but your relationship was getting serious and you wanted to meet his family. Not just his father, but his brothers and sister, too. You didn’t want to be a secret. He didn’t want you to be a secret, he just wished you were meeting a different family. That things would be different. That it wouldn't end what you had. He squeezed your hand, for the last time, he truly believed so. One last time. 

Marcia kissed you as soon as the elevator doors closed. She hugged you lightly, smiling widely. Logan was nowhere to be seen, to his relief. She was kind, kind enough, asking about work, about life, how she’s been so excited to meet you. Between then and now a glass had been placed in your hand and refilled quite a bit. You were feeling airy, but not dizzy. You liked Marcia, at least this version of herself she was presenting. You’d heard more than a few things about her, though. Shiv hugged you, too, watching Roman the entire time, as if she couldn’t believe you were real. He just shrugged, an embarrassed grin spreading across his face. He was one lucky guy. Connor was the most authentic, hugging you hard, introducing you to Willa, wanting to know about your day. That kind of love, that kind of light in a room full of falsehoods, it was so endearing. Riveting. You were grateful for Connor, not just in this moment, but for being in Roman’s life. He needed someone like that. Ken was already a little drunk, introducing himself twice. It took Roman no time in order to make jokes at his expense. He seemed nice, though you saw him the least. Kendall, and others alike, kept disappearing upstairs to talk to the king himself. The others, like Gerri, Frank, Karl, all faceless names until then, stories and legends of their own, only smiled at you if you were lucky. They didn’t care that you were there nor did they pay you any attention. They wouldn’t make up their minds about you until he did. You were warned about this. 

In between the greetings, the smiles, the questions and questionable looks from others, you clung to Roman, never out of reach of one another, as if the very thing keeping you alive was each other. Neither of you hungry, you stuck to the wine, the bourbon, the thing that made this night more bearable. Shared glances, smiles, the occasional kiss when no one was looking. You listened very little to the hings they said. The business aspects, everything like that, you weren’t interested in. You didn’t care that Roman was a Roy, what he came from, only that he came out of it unscathed. Alive. Whole. The stories he told you, unable to look you in the eye as he spoke, all the horror stories of his childhood, it was a miracle he’d made it this far. You didn’t like his father even before you met. Anyone with that much power, that much disregard for human lives, it sent a chill up your spine. You assured him more times than you could count that he wasn’t like him at all. That he was kind, and thoughtful, that he was sweet and funny and perfect. Just perfect. 

It wasn’t until the fine China had been set and dinner was almost ready that he wanted to see you. Alone. Roman refused. He pulled you away from the stairs, a look of fear you’d never seen washing across his face. He was petrified. For you, for himself, for everyone. Please, he begged, not alone. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t keep the king waiting, you couldn’t make a bad first impression. You couldn’t show weakness, fear, by showing up with armor. This was the kind of mind game he’d warned you about. You cupped his face in your hands, telling him all of this, reminding him it would only cause Roman pain if he went up there with you, if he lead the way, if he tried to protect you. He watched you climb the stairs, holding your head up high. You were a sacrifice and he was doing nothing to stop it. You were gone a long time. You missed the first three courses. Roman had lost his appetite completely, never taking his gaze off the empty chair beside him, the empty chair at the head of the table. His hands remained in fists, as if squeezing himself down, making himself smaller, would make you magically appear, would make everything okay. Would make you stay with him after all. No one took notice of your absence. No one spoke of Logan's. You appeared together, out of nowhere, you following Logan’s lead. The second you sat down he took a breath, as if the whole time you were gone he forgot how to breathe. You didn’t look upset or mad, you certainly didn’t look like you wanted to break up with him, though you’d always known how to play nice. You knew that a discussion of that nature wasn’t suited over dinner. 

It wasn’t until you were alone outside, on the desk, did you let yourself melt. Relax. Falling into him. He didn’t ask what happened, too afraid, and you didn’t tell. He was right, that man was a monster. Is now the time you tell me we’re done? His voice came out so small you barely heard it. You lift your head, wanting, no, needing to look him in the eye. Those puppy-dog eyes, all of a sudden so sad, so broken. You must’ve looked horrified, at least a little angry, because he receded back into himself. Roman Roy, you listen to me. What that man does or says will never change how I feel about you. Roman’s quiet for a while, this time it’s him leaning on you, deflated, as if everything had left him. This was your favorite part of the night. When it was you and him, against the world. You’d have to go in again, eventually. You’d have to smile at Logan and Marcia, make awkward small talk with Greg. You were happy to see Connor and Shiv and even Kendall again. You’d finally get to know just how Logan felt about you through his evil minions. But that could wait. Your Rome needed you just a little longer all to himself. He needed to know, again and again, that it wasn’t over between you. That you’d both survived this torturous night. A boot huh? Yeah, y’know, a boot. A cute boot. You’re sweet, Rome.

[99zurins]

summary: wonwoo knows a lot, especially how your thoughts get into your head. when he knows you had a bad week, he wants to shower you with the gentle love you always give him when his thoughts get into his head.

note: god its been ages since i posted but alas!! this was a request for a friend of mine, and it helped me get out of my writing slump. enjoy <3

pair: f!reader x jeon wonwoo

tags: soft bf!wonwoo, SMUT (minors dni), communication during sex, kink exploration, spit, slight choking, dirty talk, slight degradation, multiple positions (sorta), safe sex, oral (both m. and f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), orgasm denial, edging, pet names (wonwoo calls reader baby, sweetheart, good girl, princess), soft dom!wonwoo, reader goes into subspace, wonwoo takes care of reader, reader works at a clinic

word count: 6.9k

[ wonu : babe

wonu: how are you feeling? ]

like shit, you want to text him. i’m not ok. so much, too much, is happening all at once your brain doesn’t know what to process first. it’s been like this from monday morning: you were short-staffed because three co-workers got sick, people kept complaining about the wait times, what could you do, you just work here. tuesday to thursday was absolute hell: how does someone mess up inventory TWICE? your co-worker doesn’t know shit. how did she get hired anyway! you don’t want to even think about friday’s disaster. you called in sick today, because fuck the clinic, and made sure you swapped your closing shift at the bookstore with someone else. your head is in chaos, all while managing a terrible migraine.

from the tylenol, the long naps, to the drops of essential oil on your pillow– none of it isn’t even helping.

you haven’t spoken to your boyfriend for a few days, there’s the i love yous, occasional memes or cat pics he sends, but it’s been quiet. he’s been busy too, he got hired by a better design company, meaning better schedules and much well-deserved salary, and has been finishing up his last few shifts on his secondary job at a milk tea shop. but since he’s one of the long time workers at the shop, he’s been busy training newbies to replace him, hence why he’s been awake earlier than you, and comes home so late. you know he’s home when he quietly slips into bed after a shower, snuggling you from behind, holding your small frame. but you miss the cuddles when you play games together, the shared silence with him, looking at dumb cat videos. everything about him, really, you miss. even though you live with him now.

[wonu: are you at your bookstore job tonight?]

you first tell a truth: you called in sick for both of your jobs. then, you lie, saying your friend-slash-coworker is coming over to talk about stuff.

[wonu: don’t lie to me

wonu: babe

wonu: i know you had a bad week]

it was just busy, you respond. you’re busy, baby. you’re probably tired too. we can talk about this later.

[wonu: i’m not ever tired when it comes to you

wonu: i’m gonna leave work right now

wonu: idc]

you feel tears well up. you not replying back is all he needs to know.

wonwoo shows up in twenty minutes, holding a bag of takeout, bubbletea, and a cute stuffed animal. you wondered how on earth did he get here so fast, considering it takes him about thirty-five minutes to get to back home, but you’re too tired to say anything. all he does is give you a hug, plant a soft kiss on your head, and you try really hard not to cry. he does the thing where he scratches softly under your chin, like how he usually would greet a cat, while your head leans into his chest.

“hi baby,” wonwoo finally speaks, giving you a soft smile. it fades when his cold fingertips linger around your cheekbones, and stops below your dark circles. “long week?”

“mm.” you try to pretend everything is okay. he knows you aren’t. he places more gentle kisses between your eyes and on the bridge of your nose.

“was hoping you would tell me, actually.” wonwoo quietly locks the front door, takes off his shoes, and you quickly scramble to find him some house sandals that would fit him. “baby, it’s okay, I don’t need slippers. none of them fit me, remember?”

wonwoo doesn’t wear the house slippers because the five house pairs are all yours. you insist on getting him a pair, he always refuses. you cough out a laugh, and you hear wonwoo giggle.

“right, i forgot, sorry,” you mumble. “what food did you get?”

“i got you your favourite,” pho from the restaurant where you had your first date with him in. it’s his favourite, too, “i got us a matcha cake slice and a strawberry one to share, too.” cakes from the cafe on the third date.

you nod quietly, and you watch him leave the takeout on the table. he pulls out a container (which is most likely the cakes), and grabs the two plastic forks.

“wonwoo, i’m not…” hungry, you trail off, you weren’t in the mood to eat, but wonwoo looks over at you, with such tenderness. his black turtleneck hugs his torso nicely, square glasses makes him look like a nerd, when did he get a haircut? and he looks over at you, attentive and with endearment. sometimes you wonder how you deserved him. “i’m…”

wonwoo finishes putting the takeout on the table, and approaches you with quiet steps. he cocks his head to the side, a motion to tell you come here, love, and you take a few steps closer, fiddling with the sleeves of the navy oversized sweatshirt (which belongs to wonwoo).

“how can i be here for you, baby?” he pulls you closer, rubbing small circles on your scalp with his thumb. you don’t really respond, but all you do is plant your face straight to his chest, wrapping your arms around his frame. you feel a low chuckle erupt from his chest. “baby, i’m not sure how my chest is… supportive enough.”

“well, they’re bigger than mine! it’s comfy!” you whine quietly, and wonwoo laughs at your answer. he embraces you, slightly moving side to side.

“i do want an answer, if you’re able to tell me.”

“um,” you hum, looking up to him, while he still scratches your head. “i kind of just want to cuddle… tell me about your new hires, or show me dumb videos of mingyu and seungkwan being stupid again, i really don’t wanna think about what this shitty week has done to me.”

“okay, we can do that.” he hums, and scoops you up, holding you like a sack of rice.

“why are you holding me like this.”

“i wanna open the door.”

“i…” you suddenly remember the bowl of pho sitting on the table. “wait, wonwoo, the pho–”

“we have a microwave.”

“i can walk to put it away first!”

“i wanna spoil you, princess. you deserve something good. no need to think about anything.”

you feel your brain go sideways.

“… okay.” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, ignoring the heat flushing in your cheeks, and the faded pink tint in wonwoo’s ears.

wonwoo puts you on the bed, and wraps you in a blanket burrito after a little cute protest and some kisses, telling you to wait while he quickly freshens up. you feel like you’re gonna fall off the bed, why did your boyfriend put you by the edge of the bed? idiot. after showering, he changes to a comfortable black muscle tee (gifted by soonyoung) and gray sweatpants. when he returns to the bedroom, he turns on the lampshade before shutting off the main light in the bedroom. he goes back by the bed, and unrolls you out from the blanket burrito, giggling as you find yourself rolling towards the middle of the bed.

“wonwoo, what the fuck,” you find it so silly, you’re trying to contain your laughter but it’s not working. you feel wonwoo climb up on the bed, and wonwoo seems like he’s having fun removing (more like unrolling) you out of the blanket. wonwoo starts pressing a few of your pressure points gently, making you giggle even more. “what are you, FUCK, that tickles, STOP THAT!”

“noooo,” wonwoo sounds like a child, and pushes off the final part of the blanket off your body. you’re laughing loudly on the bed, as wonwoo carefully pulls you up but you feel limp from laughing. he helps you sit up in front of him, and you think he’s finished with his confusing act, but he grabs the blanket, wraps you both in it, proceeds to embrace you close, and accidentally manhandles you, him hitting the bed while you’re on top of him. “oh, this wasn’t what i planned to do.”

“what?” you ask him. “manhandle me?”

“yeah, i got too excited, i’m sorry, baby.”

“well, if it makes you feel better,” you trace shapes on his cheekbones with your finger. “i liked it. had no thought in my head, just vibes.”

“mm,” wonwoo just hums, lightly patting your butt. a hand rests behind his own head, inadvertently flexing, and you mindlessly trace the healed floral ink that wraps around his bicep. “one of the new hires likes fruits basket, it reminded me of you.”

“WHAAAAAT?” you look at him with excitement gleaming in your eyes. you slap his chest lightly. “tell me more, tell me more!”

“well, she has a tattoo of kyo’s bracelet and named her pet hamster after yuki.” wonwoo says, playing with your hair. wonwoo started watching the series for you, although he hasn’t finished yet. “although she likes kuroo?”

“oh! kureno.”

“is he a bad person?” he likes to know what’s he in for at times, so some spoilers are okay.

“he falls in love with a minor.”

“oh.”

“yeah, it’s gross,” you sigh as you feel wonwoo massage your scalp. “oh that’s nice, by the way, did your manager allow you to take the cat apron?”

“i can’t. jihoon sucks.”

“boooo! he sucks.”

“my baby can always embroider me one, right?”

“i crochet, not embroider!”

“same idea!”

“no its not!” you pinch his nose. his nose scrunches up, and he tries to playfully bite your fingers. you pinch him even harder, and you giggle over his over exaggerated expression of pain. “i should really finish making that cat hat for you.”

“take your time, baby,” he kisses the tip of your fingers. “don’t stress on it. oh, speaking of which, jihoon sent me footage of seungkwan and mingyu tripping during close yesterday. i don’t know why you find it amusing to see them struggle.”

“because they’re so funny together,” you laugh, as wonwoo uses a free hand to grab his phone on the nightstand. he opens it and scrolls, looking for the video. you turn your head, listening to his steady heartbeat. the scent of his lavender bodywash is faint. it lingers. “besides, mingyu complains about his antics with seungkwan to me at the clinic sometimes.”

“ah, not surprised.”

wonwoo opens the video, and since it is security footage, it’s muted. the quality is grainy. it’s a bit blurry. as wonwoo lightly taps a tune on the small of your back, you watch with curious eyes. seungkwan is mopping, while mingyu is seen refilling the containers with straws and wooden utensils. it doesn’t look much, but you see seungkwan tell mingyu something, but his footing is awkward, causing him to slip on the wet floor. seungkwan doesn’t fall on the ground, and mingyu is laughing at him, throwing his head back in amusement. mingyu suddenly slips backwards, falling on his side, and a bunch of straws fall on the floor. seungkwan looks like he’s gonna cry so much from laughing too hard. someone else (it looks like vernon) appears from the corner and stares at mingyu, whose still on the floor. he leaves. you and wonwoo snort loudly, you shutting your eyes hard because it’s too funny. he locks his phone and puts it back on the nightstand, stroking your head while you continue to laugh.

“god, they’re so stupid,” you shake your head. “how does jihoon deal with them?”

“he tries not to.” wonwoo halfly jokes, scrunching up his nose. you snicker. “at least they get the job done, and jihoon will be less stressed.”

“hopefully the new hires don’t fuck up.”

“i made sure they won’t.” wonwoo says, looking at you with endearment. you can’t help but move up, and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, even taking a hold of your face as you pepper him with soft kisses. “you’re being more adorable today.”

“well, i feel like i miss you a lot more lately,” you lightly push his glasses up. “even though i see you everyday, i don’t know, it’s different this time.”

“how so?”

you still don’t want to think about the disaster the week has been. but you want your heart to be open. steady.

“sometimes, i forget i’m not alone,” you tell him. his attentive gaze never leaves your face. “and that i don’t have to… i don’t have to burden everything all at once. and i’m sorry if i feel like i’m not relying on you.”

“baby,” wonwoo cups your face and squishes your cheeks. you inadvertently let out a laugh. “don’t be sorry. please don’t ever be.”

“i know, but i…”

“you’re very important to me.” he strokes your cheekbone. “i am always here. i’m sorry if i appeared… distant lately. you don’t deserve that.”

“it’s okay, woo. i’m just overthinking.”

“it’s not…” he whispers, face softening. “you had a bad week, and me being busy isn’t an excuse to make sure my baby is okay. like i said, you’re very important to me, and the love you give me makes me so happy. i love you so much.”

“i love you so much too, wonwoo… how did i deserve you?” you feel your heart swell, and the urge to cry comes. “sometimes i wonder about that.”

“you deserve everything. and i’ll make sure i can give everything to you.”

“then…” you trail off, going quiet for a moment. wonwoo watches you, and you raise yourself up, adjusting yourself to almost straddle his lap. “can you…”

“hm?”

“can you take care of me?” you whisper, tugging the hem of his shirt. you swallow the embarrassment down, reminding yourself that it’s okay. “please?”

it seems like a desperation from you, but wonwoo knows you best. you know that he’ll always and will take care of you with utmost tenderness and gentle love. but sometimes, just barely, or just too often, you question yourself how (and why) you deserve him. you already thought the shared kiss under the stars a few years ago was something he’d forget easily. but the nerd he is, he’ll plant constellations upon constellations of kisses across your body, (as if you’re the universe herself), and ask you to guess which constellation it is. on your anniversary, he’ll always kiss the libra constellation on you because that’s the one you both saw under that fated starry night. (although, he loves kissing the pisces constellation on your body. a lot).

wonwoo gazes upon you, eyes brimming with gentleness, and he carefully sits up, motioning you to move closer to him. his hands rest on your hips, his right thumb stroking your hip. your arms reach out to him, as they wrap slowly around his neck.

“how would like me to take care of you?” he whispers so low, leaning in close, his lips brushing against yours, his right hand going up to play with your sweatshirt, sending a chill down your spine.

“however you want.”

wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, holding the back of your neck, while his left hand slips under your shorts, lightly caressing the back of your thigh. his tongue teases the roof of your mouth, causing you to let out a small whine, as his left hand takes a hold of your ass, occasionally squishing it.

“do you want me to continue?” wonwoo breathlessly says in between wet kisses. while he fiddles with the hem of your sweatshirt, you nod in response. “words, baby.”

“yes, please.”

“what do you want?”

you and wonwoo are no stranger to sex, but compared to your friends, you and him are considerably on the more… calmer side of things. and thats okay, it’s normal! everyone is different. tonight, however, feels different. even with his constant reassurance, little kisses of i’m here for you, and delicate whispers, you want wonwoo to…

“if you could help me not overthink, that’ll be great,” you feel yourself flush red, looking down at the end of his shirt, fiddling with it. “if you, uh, know what i mean.”

“oh.” wonwoo sighs when your fingers slip under his shirt and ghost over his chest. he’s figured what you meant. “are you sure?”

“as long as you fuck me, make me feel good,” you mumble, feeling yourself grind against him, kissing him wetly. “i could care less how you do it.”

wonwoo hisses at the pressure, and stares at you, a glint of lust and admiration starting to shine through, all while playing with the band of your shorts. he brings up a hand near your face, and pulls you in for another kiss, tongue toying with yours, and when you whine, he sucks the tip of your tongue.

“remember our safe word, baby?”

“kohyangi,” you breathe out, thinking about the cute cat cafe you both went to last year, while wonwoo kisses red blooms on your neck.

“how far do you want me to…”

“how we usually are, but i wanna see you try,” you stop wonwoo from kissing your neck, and you bring him to your face, letting him kiss you more. “you can be a little rougher tonight.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the end of me.” he gently flips you over, carefully laying you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours until he briefly parts to remove his glasses. putting them on the nightstand clumsily, he comes back for your lips, and you melt against him. through his relentless teasing and his tender touches against you make your head spin. he kisses a little harder, a little more desperate, hands starting to roam around your frame, arms caging you– an underlying message that he isn’t going anywhere, and that he belongs to you, you are his, and that you are deserving of everything. a curious hand slips under your shirt, feeling your bare chest. his other hand toys with the band of your shorts, mumbling if it’s okay to take them off, and he swiftly removes them when you give him a ‘yes’.

“oh, this is pretty,” wonwoo compliments your underwear. it’s a baby blue thong. he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. “they new?”

“um, uh, yes? they were on sale… good deal, too…” you suddenly feel yourself shrink, turning red. you stare at his toned muscles, and you see a satisfied smirk on wonwoo’s face, eyes turning lustful. he pushes the sweatshirt high enough for your chest to be exposed to the air, never breaking eye contact until he swoops down, and starts planting kisses, tongue teasing your nipple, and occasionally biting at some places. “i bought a bunch since… kinda wanted to try wearing these… for you.”

you see wonwoo’s ears turn pink, and feel yourself crawling into a hole.

“aw, cute, my princess wants to treat me.” your brain screams. wonwoo kisses over the healed ink near your hip.“they look great on you, makes your tattoo here even sexier.”

“are.. are you doing the andromeda constellation?” you breathe out, trying to divert his (horny) attention somewhere else. “or is it something else?”

“mmhmm, correct, that’s my good girl,” wonwoo teases and you feel yourself choke on your own spit. he starts toying with the band of your underwear, and bites a mark on the hip bone. you didn’t even realize he’s already settled in between your legs until you feel him breathe. he tongues over the bite mark, soothing it. damn, ain’t this one nice way to go out. “you’re learning so well.”

“shit,” you shyly say between your teeth.

“keep the sweatshirt on, i wanna fuck you in it.”

“good, that was the intention.” you try to counter wonwoo, and you feel yourself twitch when wonwoo presses his thumb over your clothed clit. “does it make you possessive?”

“baby, you have no idea.” he responds, hooking a finger in the band of your thong.“may i?”

you nod at him, and he slowly peels off your underwear. as you slightly raise your hips so he can easily pull them off, he’s awkward with it, making you remove it instead. wonwoo clicks his tongue in slight annoyance. all you do is just smile at him, slipping them off with ease. you sit up (just a bit) to toss them somewhere on the bed or floor, and you don’t realize wonwoo is incredibly close to your pussy until you adjust your positioning. your breath hitches when he breathes.

“hm?” he starts to tease, kissing around the area and the lower stomach, but doesn’t do anything. “you’re pretty down here.”

“babe, please,” you try to sound exasperated but he plants the softest kiss on your clit and you almost collapse your arms. “just nervous, that’s all, even though we’ve done this a lot…”

“it’s okay, baby, i don’t blame you, i get nervous too,”wonwoo murmurs, and he can’t help it but he finds himself licking his lips. “may i eat you out?”

“yes, please.”

he first lightly swipes his tongue from the entrance to the clit, and he does it again, and again, and again, as you let out a soft noise the more he does it. he kisses your clit, and licks it, tongue flicking it a few times, doing a circular motion, and you sigh out a moan, hand resting on the crown of his head. he briefly pauses to use his thumbs to spread you out a little more, and opens his mouth, letting drool drip down on your pussy, watching it drip down, and he goes back in with his tongue. he increases the pressure, and you whine, almost hitting your head against the headboard. he keeps up the pace, moaning against your folds whenever you do, tongue slipping inside you occasionally. he starts to get even more sloppy, messy– making wet noises the more he eats you out.

“my princess is being so so good, so wet,” he mumbles lowly against your folds, hearing how wet he made you, briefly pulling away to kiss your inner thighs. you whine how his finger is teasing your hole, and his lips come back to suck on your clit again. “so needy, all for me.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine breathlessly, feeling wonwoo’s hand grip your thigh a little harder. he looks up, eyes never breaking away from yours, while his tongue slowly licks up from the entrance to your clit. he closes his eyes, relishing in the taste of you. you are sure your thigh is going to bruise, but his head is in between your legs, so it’ll be worth the bruising. “wonwoo, fuck, oh my god,”

“mm, fuck, so sweet,” he mumbles against your pussy. a finger slips inside you, slowly moving back and forth. the bed slightly shakes, and you see that he’s lightly grinding against the sheets, in desperation for some relief. you sigh at the sight, trying to stifle a moan as he puts more pressure with his tongue. “baby, go ahead, be louder.”

“its, fuck, embarrassing! holy shit,” you respond back a little louder, body arching when wonwoo adds another finger and grazes that sweet spot inside. you feel wonwoo pin down your hips with his other hand. “so, fuck, so, so good.”

“good,” wonwoo coos. “how bad do you wanna come?”

“so bad, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” your brain feels dizzy. “please wonwoo, please.”

wonwoo hums, continuing to suck your clit with wet noises and fingering you good. you find yourself mumbling incoherent sentences, and you find yourself feeling a wave of relief and pleasure overtake your body, trying to breathe. you clench around his fingers, hearing wonwoo coax you through your orgasm, leaving little kisses on you of you’re doing so well for me, and my baby, baby, all mine.

“can i spit in your mouth?” wonwoo removes his mouth from you, but his fingers have slowed their movement.

“yes.” you whine at the brief loss.

“open up.” he demands softly, a wet thumb pressing against your bottom lip. you oblige, and he leans in, letting drool drip down from his mouth into yours, his fingers busy with your hole, and uses his tongue to push it in your mouth. you shut your eyes, moaning while wonwoo’s tongue meets with yours.“good girl. was that okay?”

“y-yes,” you say in between wet kisses. another finger slips inside you, making it three, while you both make out, tasting yourself against his tongue. “it was good.”

“do you want me to do it again tonight?” wonwoo slightly rolls on his side, all while fingering you and peppering your neck with more kisses.

“it was really hot but,” you moan, trying to reach the band of his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is, and how much relief he desperately needs. “i don’t know if i wanna do it again. not again tonight, if that’s okay.”

“it’s always okay, baby, thank you,” wonwoo smiles against your neck, and you really wonder how you feel horny and soft all at once. he feels your fingers tease the band of his sweatpants, almost tracing the dent against it.“oh, baby, no need to worry about me.”

“but i want to make you feel good, too,” you say softly, breaths staggering while he fingers you long and slow. “don’t want—fuck— to be the only one.”

“well,” wonwoo gazes at you, eyes half-lidded with a slight fucked out look on his face. “does my girl want to make me feel good? words, baby, i need to hear them.”

“i want to make you feel good, please.”

“how badly?”

“s-so bad,” you whine when wonwoo removes his fingers from you. rolling on top of him, you press your body against his, your fingers holding the band of his sweats. “i want to suck you off.”

“wanna show me how with my fingers?” he brings up his fingers covered in your wetness close to your lips. “how will my baby suck me off?”

“only if you let me jerk you off, too.”

“i’d love that, fuuck,” wonwoo groans when you pull down his sweats and your hand wraps over his hard dick. he’s so fucking hard. your thumb teases the tip, playing with the precum and letting your hand coat itself in it. wonwoo’s fingers slowly go in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around them. “baby, fuck, you’re such a slut.”

“y-you’re the bigger slut,” you shyly whisper against his fingers. you help wonwoo get out from his sweatpants, leaving him naked, and you start grinding your cunt against his bare thigh. he hisses, feeling how wet you are down there, and his free hand grabs a hold of your hip. “you made me like this.”

“you’re so wet, baby,” wonwoo sighs, pulling you in for a kiss, sighing when you jerk him off slowly. as you slightly pick up the pace, thumbing the slit, wonwoo’s hand reaches from behind to play with your hole. you quickly pull away to let a trail of spit go down his cock for some lubrication, and wonwoo throws his head back, groaning, when you jerk him off faster. “fuck, that’s my girl, go ahead, suck me off.”

“and you’re calling me the slut,” you mumble. you hear wonwoo laugh against your lips, until you feel his hand lightly slap your ass. you sigh at the pain, wonwoo rubbing the reddenning spot. “wow, kinky, are we?”

“you’re cute.”

“you like it.”

“you’re so– oh, fuck,” wonwoo feels his breathing stagger when you slide down, your tongue teasing the tip. you look up, trying hard to maintain eye contact, all while holding his thick cock with your hand (you forget how thick he is, you can barely wrap your hand around it completely) and giving it kittenish licks, before wrapping your lip around the tip. you make a few wet sucking noises, before spitting down on his cock for more lubrication. “fuck, baby, can you take all of me?”

“i haven’t even done anything yet,” you continue to trail your tongue along the veins and stroke him at the girth, and he moans— you feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting to hear more of it. “wanna tell me what should i do?”

“d-do as you please.” he groans out your name, cursing under his breath, and strokes your head as you continue to suck him off. not only does he love it when he ensures you’re vocal about what you want, he loves it when you ask him what he wants. being communicative is something he prioritizes so much (in general, obviously). and during times like these, communication is so so sexy.

you look at him, eyes signaling am i doing good for you?, and wonwoo bites his lip, enthralled by the sight. he really, really, can’t wait to ravish you.

“oh, holy fuck,” his thoughts get slightly interrupted when he feels his cock almost hit the back of your throat. feelings mixed with surprise and arousal that overwhelm him, he bites his lip to avoid a moan slipping out, wrapping his own hand around the base and presses it, edging himself. “oh, fuck, baby, you don’t have to take everything in.”

“b-but,” you remove your mouth from him, a slick pop sound coming out, as a trail of spit and come stick on your mouth. you still use your hands to jerk him off, looking at him with glossed eyes. “i wanna make you feel good.”

“you already are, baby,” wonwoo hitches his breath when you put your mouth back on his cock, a finger trailing your jaw. “but i’m the one who was suppose to fuck you til you can’t think, right? do you still want that, sweetheart?”

“uh-huh,” you mumble. “i-i do.”

“come here, then,” wonwoo encourages you to come up, licking your mouth. he runs a tongue on the roof of your mouth, as you moan while his hand plays with your hole again. “i taste good, don’t i?”

“mmhmm,” you reply against his lips, and wonwoo easily slips two fingers inside you again. he sucks on your bottom lip, fingering you faster, and you find yourself instinctively riding his fingers, moans getting more desperate as his other hand takes a hold of your hip and helps you ride his fingers. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum again, oh my god, your fingers are so good, woo.”

“that’s it, baby,” wonwoo says, adding in a third finger. you feel his thumb press again your clit. “come for me again, sweetheart.”

you ride out your second orgasm of the night. although it’s not as intense as the first, it feels more of like a softer wave holding you close. wonwoo kisses your neck and collarbones, whispering you praises and love notes as he helps you finish.

“please fuck me already,” you whine into the kiss, and wonwoo starts playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “wonwoo, please, i want you…”

“patience, baby,” wonwoo whisper in your ear, and you feel his hand go up and down your back. “i’ll take care of you as long as you like me to. can you go on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“can we kiss first?”

“of course, baby.”

you’ll never get sick of kissing wonwoo, ever. you find how you melt into each other’s warmth, comfort, and love— and how he feels like home, the hugs on rainy days, the shared smiles— you adore how his kisses are reminders of i’m always here and love letters, how much he loves you- all of you—

wonwoo shifts when you move onto the position, him moving his hand down your back. he asks if its okay if he can lift up your hips a little higher, and says good girl when you follow his instruction.

“can i…?” wonwoo asks, raising your hips up, so your ass is sticking up in the air. “can i fuck you holding one of your arms behind your back?”

“holy fuck,” you whisper, looking at him, a part of your face squished by the pillow. you and wonwoo aren’t that experimental, but this… is something. “if that will help you fuck me so hard til i can’t think, then okay.”

wonwoo slows his movements, and stares at you.

oh.

oh.

oh, fuck, that’s hot.

“well, if you say so,” he leans over, tilts your head to give you a kiss, before opening the drawer to grab a condom. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“at least fuck me first.” you joke, and wonwoo chuckles at that, pushing up your sweatshirt to expose your back. he kisses down your spine, and you hear the rustle of the condom wrapper. wonwoo adjusts your body, and you almost feel like a cramp coming on, but it’s okay—

“ready, baby?” wonwoo asks lowly. you nod against the pillow. “words, sweetheart. may i have your hand?”

“mm, yeah, i’m ready, are you?” you put your hand around your back, and you feel wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“yeah, i’m putting it in,” wonwoo says, and you feel the tip prod against your entrance, and you bite back a moan before he slowly inserts himself in. you squeeze your eyes shut, gasping against the pillow, remembering to take deep breaths. you need a moment to adjust, but the stretch alone feels wonderful. “you okay?”

“y-yes,” you exhale. “fuck, i feel all of you, so, so much.”

“fuck, you’re so tight.” wonwoo groans, slowly bottoming out. “need a moment?”

“yeah.” you let yourself adjust to his cock, as wonwoo rubs your back (his way of helping you relax). a minute passes, and you start to feel good, inadvertently moving your hips back to his. wonwoo moans, and it encourages you to move faster against him. “f-fuck, oh my god, please fuck me, you’re so big—”

wonwoo finds himself moving his hips fast, a hand gripping your hip, the other pinning your wrist behind your back, as you gasp on how loud, wet, and hard he’s going. as hard and fast-paced his thrusts are, it remains concise and controlled. you hear him groan the more he thrusts into you, and you briefly look back at him, seeing him fling his head back in pleasure. god, it feels so good, the sounds of skin slapping grow louder, breathing out of sync, you feel so full, so fucking full, your head is starting to get dizzy—

your senses come back when wonwoo slows his pace, and you whine, tightening around him as a means to get him to move.

“nuh-uh, don’t come just yet,” wonwoo tuts, shallowly thrusting in you. “i’m not done with you.”

“w-what, fuck! oh my god, please go harder,” you tell him, feeling drool come out from your mouth, and wonwoo lets go of your hand, gently placing it above your head.

“so, so, impatient,” wonwoo slaps your ass, watching you fuck yourself on him. he continues to let you fuck yourself on him, his frame swooping down so he can whisper. “so needy for my cock, hm? didn’t know my baby is such a needy, little slut. look at you fucking yourself on me. i haven’t even fucked you stupid yet, and look at you being so needy for me. my baby is such a cute little whore.”

“wonwoo, please move,” you breathe, looking at him with glossy eyes. wonwoo continues to stare at you with lust and endearment, all while shallowly fucking into you. “i want you so much, ahhhh fuck, please, please.”

“hm? what was that?” wonwoo coos, and you whine even more. you feel like crying. wonwoo rubs his hands down your side. “oh, baby, it’s okay, i’ll give you want you want. wanna tell me what you want?”

“y-you, please.”

“just me?”

“want you to fuck me til i can’t think.”

“that’s it?”

“wanna be y-your cute little whore for you.”

and that’s all it takes for wonwoo to remove himself out from you. you wince at the loss of him, as you feel tears in your eyes, but he steadily grabs you, flipping you on your back. he pumps himself, spitting on his fingers and they go down to your pussy, playing with your clit with his thumb and wraps your legs around his waist.

“keep your legs wrapped for me, okay?” he says, using his long fingers to play with you. “can you do that for me?”

“yes,” you nod, and wonwoo peppers soft kisses around your neck and face. “wonwoo?”

“mm, baby?”

“can you spit in my mouth again?”

“oh, fuck, yes,” it catches wonwoo off guard and you find it cute how flustered he got. “i can, yeah.”

“good,” you nudge his back with your leg, telling him to start moving.

“ready?”

“mmhm- ah, fuck!” you nod, but wonwoo slips inside easily, holding onto your hips hard, fucking you at a hard, controlled pace. “oh my god, fuuuck, fuck!”

wonwoo smiles, watching your expressions change accordingly. he takes in all of your noises, expressions, all of you, how you ask to go faster, how you’re trying to fuck back too, how you’re willing to make it good for both of you. wonwoo takes a hold of your hand, putting it above your head. he gets caught off guard when you put your other hand up, and wraps his hand around your wrists, pinning them against the sheets.

“fuck, baby, you’re so tight, your pretty pussy loves taking me in, hm?” wonwoo whispers, and his free hand creeps up on your neck, but doesn’t add pressure on it. “open up.”

you oblige, and you feel him twitch. you tighten in instinct, as he lets spit drip down from his mouth to yours, and sticks his tongue in your mouth to push it in again. you moan at that, eyes going shut, all while wonwoo fucks harder and harder and harder. you feel nothing running in your brain, it feels numbing, feels exhilarating, you just feel yourself get lost into the pleasure and the praise wonwoo kisses on your skin. you numbingly hear him say words and words of i love you, can’t believe you are all mine, fuck you’re too good for me, come for me, your senses get blurred out, like your feeling everything all at once, and you don’t know when but you feel yourself unravel, coming undone as wonwoo finishes too, hips stuttering.

“baby…” wonwoo sighs against your lips, hands cautiously rubbing your sides, while putting his body weight against yours. “come back to me.”

“mmrgh?” you make a weird noise, feeling warm and a little light-headed. you hear wonwoo telling you to take deep breaths, and you use your hands to hold onto his shoulders. kisses and kisses and kisses of you did so well scatter across your skin like a cluster of stars, as wonwoo strokes your head with a comforting touch. “wonwoo?”

“m’ here baby, i’m right here,” he says, carefully slipping out from inside you after he softens. “i’m here, are you here?”

“yeah, sorry,” you finally collect yourself together, staring at the ceiling. wonwoo shifts on the bed, rolling over next to you to discard the condom, and plops next to you, an arm wrapping around your waist. you look over at him, lost in his bright eyes, and fucked out glow. “you did it.”

“wha?”

“you fucked me stupid, i don’t remember thinking at all.” you laugh. wonwoo’s face turns more pink, and he grumbles into your neck, kissing a spot or two.

“was that all okay?” he asks, stroking your head with one hand, playing with your hands with the other. “we did a little experimenting tonight.”

“it was good, yes, thank you,” you tell him, stroking his cheek fondly. “kinda wanna do more of it, you know.”

“oh.”

“oh my god, don’t act like a shy boy when you fucked me with your big dick.”

“i’m…” wonwoo get even more shy, and you laugh, kissing his nose and his cheeks. “just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all.”

“is it a lot for you?”

“no, i’m glad you trust me, and that i’m able to trust you.” wonwoo says, rubbing your stomach. “we should clean up.”

“eh, i kinda wanna lay here.” you say, sort of sprawling out on the bed. you stretch your arm a little weird so it ends up across wonwoo’s body. “too tired.”

“baby, you work in healthcare. didn’t they teach you to pee after sex?”

“i work in an eye clinic!”

“well yeah! same idea! it’s still healthcare! i’m getting you to clean up.” wonwoo says, slipping out of bed and grab his sweatpants. he slips it on, and goes over to your side, but you start rolling away, not wanting to get out of bed. “baby, don’t do that.”

“i want to cuddle first,” you say, not bothering to fight back when wonwoo grabs your body to carry you to the bathroom. “i feel like jelly.”

“good, that’s what i intended,” wonwoo kisses your face when you wrap your arms around his neck. “we can cuddle after. what do you want for breakfast?”

“eggs. toast, if we have bread. do we have bread?” wonwoo shrugs . “uh, coffee? oh! and maybe fried rice.”

“you work tomorrow?” he asks. you shake your head. “good, we’ll sleep in, eat breakfast, you wanna go play stardew valley together?”

you grin, giving him a kiss.

god, you love him so fucking much.