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milfgyuu · 7 months ago

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Hot Wheels [M] Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader Tags: 15.9k, 90's AU, Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+ Collab: Now That's 90's Summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf (consensual) sex, fingering, low-key breast play, making out (in public), hickey talk, Mingyu is hung (obvs), he's also portrayed as 'taller' than the mc in interactions, mild to moderate language use, gyu's roomies are sloshed at the end (unrelated to smut or main characters), that should cover all the bases...

Fridays at the roller rink are always busy but this is the first official skate-night of Summer Time ‘99 and it’s like opening day all over again. The schools let out just a few hours ago, releasing hoards of teenagers with pent-up energy loose on your small town and there is a line out the door waiting to get into Wheelies to jump-start their next few months of freedom.

Thankfully, the owners prepared and bought a whole new stock of skates so when you inevitably have to help out at the rental counter you’ll have enough to go around without having to argue with some sixteen-year-old about not having their size.

For now, you’re on the floor making sure everything is running smoothly, gliding around in circles with your hands in your pockets. It’s not too packed just yet even though you can see the steady stream of kids filtering through the doors after hitting the ticket booth. Mothers are packing up their little ones knowing it’s time to head out before it picks up pace and the exchange in skaters coming on and off the floor keeps things pretty even for a short while.

As you pass by the DJ booth for the hundredth time this evening, Vernon pauses to make a goofy face at you while he sets up his equipment. He’s probably the one person who enjoys the summer nights the most because he gets to put on light shows and mix tracks to his heart’s content.

After letting the floor empty a bit more, you come to a stop in front of him for a quick break, crossing your arms and resting them over the top of his carpeted booth.

“You gonna play something special for me tonight, Nonnie?”

He rolls his eyes but grins all the same. “You ask me that every night.”

Laying your head on your arms, you look up at him with a pout, “And yet, no romantic song dedications to your favorite Wheelies girl,” you pick your head up and bat your eyes at him, “I’m starting to think you want to break up with me.”

“I promise if I want to end our made-up relationship, I’ll tell you like a real man. Besides,” Vernon laughs and tilts his chin up, looking at something behind you, “I think you’ve been seeing other people. Hotter Wheels if you catch my drift.”

“Heh, I think he hates that name,” you turn, catching sight of Mingyu ducking into the locker rooms to change out and stow his bag, most likely coming straight from hockey practice. Vernon is back to messing with things when you turn, humming, “Lets be real. I only like boys who don’t like me, Nonnie, that’s why you’re the one.”

“What if he’s like you and only goes for girls who don’t want him?”

At that you laugh, preparing to depart as the floor begins to steadily fill again. “Well then, he’ll be lonely forever because I am pretty sure everyone wants him.”

“Including you?”

Very stealthily, you flip him the bird.

Vernon just laughs it off and gets back to work as you skate away, toying with the whistle tied around your neck. You can tell he’s about to get started with his new set when the lights dim and the carpeted walls and floors outside of the polished skate floor start to glow. The little whirls and shapes coming to life with a neon purple hue.

You catch the line piling up at the rental booth but thankfully, it looks like they called in a few extra hands tonight to help there and in concessions which means you get to stay on the floor. Rentals isn’t the worst, that would be birthday party hosting, but you also hate concessions so you don’t put up a fuss when you’re asked to help with skates or in the front on the rare occasion one of the sweet old ladies manning the ticket windows is out.

As more people start piling onto the floor you slow your pace and skate backward for a few feet to check out your surroundings and find teenagers everywhere, loud and wildly unaware of their surroundings. They aren’t too awful this early in the night but you’re sure you’ll have to escort someone off the floor before closing time.

You’ll enjoy your leisurely pace for now and it seems Wonwoo is keen to do the same on the opposite side of the crowd. He weaves in and out of skaters bobbing his head to the music. His glasses are sitting lower on his nose than usual and you’re sure he’s broken them again…or his little brother did and he’s waiting for their exact replacement to come in so he can switch them out without his brother noticing and feeling any more guilty.

He’s only eight but Wonwoo is his very best friend. They come in on Saturdays together, one of Wonwoo’s only days off, and he teaches his brother to skate for an hour or so before he lets him loose in the arcade and they leave with matching ice cream cones in hand. They even have matching shaggy hairstyles. It’s adorable.

In truth, you’re fond of many of your co-workers but Wonwoo is definitely in your top three for that reason alone. You get along really well with any easy-going personality, it's the same with Vernon. They are both just nice, quiet guys and the exact opposite of the giant shadow hanging over your left shoulder.

Although, you suppose you get along just fine with him as well.

“Quit checking Wonwoo out, you’re breaking my heart.”

Even before he opened his mouth, the distinct cologne he always wore told you Mingyu was finally on the floor, ready to chase you around for the rest of the night like it was his full-time job. He spent more time trying to charm your pants off than doing what he was actually hired to do but he is so damn charming that he somehow gets away with it.

Besides, this is just a part-time gig for him. Might as well enjoy himself while he’s at it.

When you don’t answer right away, he decides to show off his stupidly impressive hockey maneuvers and he swings around in front of you, casually skating backward without bothering to look behind him. He’s big enough that people can’t miss him and they tend to move out of his path pretty quickly. Now that he sees your face, he’s smirking because you don’t even have it in you to hide your smile tonight. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he coos, “My heart’s healing already.”

You grab his arm to pull his hand away from his chest and he spins around to skate at your side, eyes briefly scanning the floor until they’re back on you.

“I wasn’t checking him out but believe me… you’re going to be absolutely devastated when Vernon finally admits he’s in love with me. Game over, buddy.”

Mingyu looks wholly unconvinced. “Well, he’s had long enough and you’re going to fall in love with me by the end of the week so…” he pinches his lips together like he’s just delivered the real, honest, awkward truth and you’re battling butterflies in your stomach.

“End of the week, huh? Are we sure?”

He gets distracted by an increase in volume but for only a moment because Wonwoo is already on it and the quick, sharp sound of his whistle means Mingyu’s full attention is on you again. “That’s what I have circled on my calendar,” he shrugs, “Nothing we can do about it now but let it happen.”

Mingyu’s sense of humor and playful nature are the literal nails in your coffin. You can handle hot with no personality…this one is hot with an overabundance of personality.

You look up at him, probably grinning ear to ear, “Bet you have little hearts doodled all over it with a hot pink gel pen, don’t ya, Hot Wheels?”

He grumbles something under his breath and it makes you snicker. Wonwoo started that one and it seemed to spread throughout the building like wildfire. Now, even the ticket ladies call him Hot Wheels though you’re sure they mean it quite literally whereas Wonwoo was actually just busting Mingyu’s balls about a particularly embarrassing tumble he took.

“Purple gel pen, actually,” he turns and pouts as you both bank around the curve again, “Lost my pink one.”

“Could always steal another one from your little sister.”

At that, he scoffs, the corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, “She threw a Barbie car at my head the last time I visited,” he doesn’t even sound upset…it’s more proud than anything, “She reminds me of you sometimes.”

When you go to respond, a young boy accidentally skates too close to you and his wheels knock into yours throwing you both off balance. You catch him by the arm, meeting his panic-stricken eyes, and wait to hit the floor but you rock back against a hard chest and thank all your lucky stars Mingyu was there to save you. The older you get, the harder the floor feels.

“I’m so sorry!” The boy exclaims once you’re all steady again, “I’m not good at this! I promise I wasn’t trying to take you out!”

His genuine concern is sweet and you laugh it off. “It’s totally okay and nobody got hurt,” you tell him and he takes a deep breath, “Wanna go around together a few times?”

The boy’s eyes shine and he nods his head rapidly. Mingyu drops back a few paces and you hold out your arm, elbow tucked into your side. “Okay,” you pat your forearm, “Hold on here…there you go…and we’re going to push off at the same time with the same foot. Hey, Gyu,” you call over your shoulder and he comes back up to your side, waiting for your instructions, “Will you skate a little ahead of us so he can watch you?”

“For sure,” Mingyu grins, picking up speed until he’s far enough away to slow his pace again and remain ahead of you.

The kid is a bit wobbly but he’s trying really hard and it makes you smile. You remember when you first learned to skate and how intimidating the rink was though you were around eight and he looks to be around fourteen. There wasn’t a floor full of bigger, faster kids to compete with though so you think maybe you got off easier.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage him, “Watch him go around the curve to get a better idea of how to steer yourself.”

Mingyu banks it beautifully, as usual. It’s surprising to most people that someone his size could skate so fluidly especially after learning that he only started playing hockey in his early teens. It was just something he had a natural talent for and trading out blades for wheels hadn’t altered his ability to move with grace whatsoever.

You work through the turn together, a little less smoothly, but you make it around and he lets out a short laugh. “He makes it look so easy.”

“Yeah, well he’s had lots and lots of practice and likes to show off.”

Your eyes settle on Mingyu again and as if he can sense you watching, he turns over his shoulder and winks which is not solely witnessed by you because the kid chuckles, following through the next curve with more confidence. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s kinda cool.”

The question catches you off guard and you laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Not my boyfriend but yeah…I guess he’s kinda cool.”

He looks up at you…almost mischievously you’d think, if you knew him better. “I think he wants to be your boyfriend,” he snickers, “He keeps looking at you.”

You huff out a laugh, placing your hand over his before swinging you both into a stop out of the way. “I’m starting to think this is all a ruse and he’s paying you to put in a good word.”

The kid laughs and shakes his head, “No, I’m just nosey and a really lousy skater,” he says, looking up at Mingyu who’s come over and stopped next to you, “Thanks a lot for helping me out,” he looks a little sheepish, hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, “There is this girl at school I like and she’s a figure skater. She asked me out on a date at the ice rink when she comes back from vacation with her family in two weeks and I said yes even though I’m probably going to make a fool of myself. Figured I should start practicing now and falling on wheels is less intimidating than falling with knives on my feet.”

You laugh softly and Mingyu grins, shaking his head. “I admire your dedication to getting the girl, kid. Listen, I coach a youth hockey league at the ice rink down the road and have a free hour a few days a week that I use to practice myself. I’d be happy to teach you if you want.”

The boy’s eyes light up. “That would be so cool!”

Mingyu chuckles, “Alright, awesome. Are one of your parents here with you? I can go talk to them and give them my information.”

“Yeah! My grandma is sitting over there,” he points to the corner where you both make out an older woman sitting alone with a book in hand, surrounded by way too many boisterous young people.

You meet Mingyu’s eyes and both make a face. “Yikes, okay, let’s go save grandma.”

The boy thanks you again and starts to merge back into the flow of skaters as Mingyu smiles at you, pushing off with a ‘Don’t miss me too much’ and a stupid kissy face.

His grin is wild and gorgeous when you wiggle your fingers and whisper, “Bye, lover boy.”

Vernon is smiling at you when you reach his booth and you hop up onto the small ledge that allows a good look at the floor as a whole while also giving your legs a needed break. He’s playing one is his 80’s to 90’s pop mixes and tweaking the rotating lights that dance over the skaters until they start changing colors, neon polka dots as far as the eye can see.

There is a steady exchange of kids coming on and off the floor. Most of the early group heading into the arcade or bombarding the concessions counter while the later crowd takes their place. In between all that, you catch sight of Mingyu speaking with the boy and his Grandma. You don’t even realize that you’re unabashedly smiling at the scene, thinking about how kind and attentive he is when he’s listening. The way he leans in and pulls back, grinning and laughing.

“Still think you’re not into him?” Vernon says over your shoulder, laughing when you startle.

You purse your lips, eyes wandering back over. “I’m simply admiring his social aptitude,” you flick your eyes back up to Vernon and grin, “Why? Is it making you jealous darling?”

He smirks, “Not yet. Gonna have to try harder.”

“Ugh,” you swoon, hand over your heart, “I love it when you play hard to get.”

Vernon nods his head laughing, “Yeahhhh, I know you do.” Then he notices you’ve got your eye on an issue that needs handling and reaches out to pat the top of your head, “Two more hours and they all have to go home to be someone else’s responsibility. I’ll throw in some of your favorite jams.”

Ten o’clock couldn’t come soon enough but you appreciate his offer and toss out a few songs for consideration though he’s pretty familiar with your tastes. You step back down onto the floor and blow Vernon a kiss when you immediate recognzie the song he’s jumped into…just for you.

“You really are the best. Check on you in a bit, undercover lover.”

He throws up a peace sign and you cut across the floor to ask a couple of kids who were just blowing and popping bubbles to go spit out their gum as it’s clearly stated that it's not allowed on the floor. They don’t love your request and start to argue but Mingyu sneaks up behind you again and dazzles them with a smile. Just like that, the two young girls start giggling and falling all over themselves to do exactly as asked…all because the pretty guy said ‘Please’.

It’s comical, honestly.

Mingyu is smirking when he rolls along beside you, bending at the waist to peek up at your face because it’s aimed at the floor as you try to school your features. He’s so irritatingly flirtatious and you’re too quickly playing into his hand tonight. You’re usually better than this, holding out well until you’re pulling out of the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah,” he intones, “Tonight is definitely the night. You’re giving in. You can’t resist me any longer. It was bound to happen. You’re still smiling! I can see it!”

Laughing, you pull your head up and give him a look that you would have loved to be firm but it’s not in the slightest. How can you be serious when he is so not serious? “Don’t you dare,” you warn with a loose laugh tacked on at the end, “I told you, we’re not going on a date.”

Mingyu shrugs, “So, movies tomorrow night?”

“Don’t you work tomorrow?”

He bats his eyes with a saccharine smile, “I love that you know my schedule by heart,” he ignores your eye roll, “Wonu’s covering my shift since he owed me one and also because he’s a true romantic. He’s rooting for us and we can’t disappoint him.”

“Well, I suppose if it’s what Wonwoo wants…” you look up at him, eyes glittering with excitement, “When are you picking me up?”

For as calm and cool as Mingyu keeps it on the outside, he’s buzzing on the inside because he’s been toying around with the idea of taking you out forever. And he’s asked…more than once…but you’ve kept him on his toes and he’s enjoyed the playing the game but he’s elated that you’re finally saying yes.

He tries to school is face but he’s still beaming as he tries to casually say, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Seven?” you snicker, “Isn’t that a little late to get started? You keeping me out all night?”

He just shrugs, grinning. “Maybe.”

Mingyu shows up nearly twenty minutes early and you can see his car outside your condo. He doesn’t make a move to get out and it’s amusing to watch as he nervously drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few beats before reaching for the door like he’s going to get out, and then shaking his head before resuming the fidgeting. It’s also a relief to know he’s feeling the same jitters you are.

The thought crossed your mind to pop your head out to wave him inside but he might be giving himself a pep-talk and you’re still contemplating your outfit.

The movie theater is always so cold. You debated the pros and cons of wearing something short-sleeved because on one hand, if you’re cold it might prompt your date to keep you warm but on the other hand, if he didn’t, you’d be freezing the whole time.

You could bring a jacket, but that’s an extra thing to carry.

Digging through your closet, you pull out a fuzzy black long-sleeved sweater. You hold it out, admiring the way it’s cropped a little shorter in the front, and then turn back to the mirror, holding it up to your chest. It would look cute with the Levi’s you’re wearing…decisions, decisions.

A car horn beeps and you peer out of your window seeing Mingyu rigid behind the wheel. You laugh, thinking he probably did not mean to do it and is embarrassed at having accidentally made too much noise. That’s pretty obvious by the way he’s looking around, paranoid and frustrated. It’s actually super cute and you’re lingering by the window now just admiring him from afar without care

Until you see Mingyu cut the engine and get out of the car. Then the panic sets in because you’re still not ready and well…it’s the first time he’s seeing you outside of work and not in uniform. You want him to be wowed and are probably still taking too long to get moving considering how brisk of a stride you know his to be. He’ll be here any second.

You scramble to pull on the sweater in your hands and run into the bathroom to grab your gold hoops, fix your hair, and check your makeup one last time. Your heart is racing but you smile at your reflection. He sees you all the time at work looking not even half as done-up as you are right now and thinks you’re a solid 10, so there isn’t really any doubt he’ll be pleased. Then the doorbell rings.

A few deep breaths to calm your nerves comes first. When you open the door, Mingyu’s mouth is fixed like he had a line locked and loaded but when he sees you, he chokes on the words. He’s so flustered that he stumbles back a step, laughing at himself. “Oh, you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”

That lights you up from the inside out and brings your confidence back around full circle.

“Have I ever made things easy for you?” you snicker, grabbing your purse off the hook by the door, “I think you like a challenge.”

“Nah, I just like you,” he smirks, tongue poking the end of his pointed canine as he watches you close and lock the door, trying his hardest to be respectful, “You look really good. Have I said that yet?”

Stashing your keys in your purse, you turn and grin up at him. “You alluded to it but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it out loud.”

Always playing and teasing and flirting. It’s almost too much for you both to bear at this point.

“I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” he says softly but he reaches toward you, slipping his hand just behind your hip to pull you closer with a bold, sharp tug. Startled, you bump right into Mingyu’s chest and look up at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a minute and then tilts his head back, sighing into the sky above. He’s mostly amused when he looks back at you.

“You look incredible…and we should get in the car before I ruin the illusion of me being a gentleman.”

“That image has been splintering for a while but I don’t think I’ll mind if a manner or two slips,” you tease as you pull apart, taking the time to look him up and down…

Light-washed jeans, crisp white t-shirt, open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders…”You look really good too,” you murmur in appreciation.

He’s about to sweating straight through his shirt if you keep looking at him like that.

“...yep…time to go,” he mumbles, pinching is lips together as he grabs your hand. He pulls you toward the parking lot which isn’t far, and opens the door for you to slip into his passenger seat. He doesn’t let go until you’re settled and takes it a touch further when he reaches in and grabs the seatbelt before you. His hand purposely grazes against the exposed skin between your pants and top as he buckles you in and you let out the breath you were holding the second he closes your door.

It’s getting more difficult to play hard-to-get by the millisecond but you’re willing to give in first if your reward is Mingyu breaking down bit by bit right in front of you.

You bite your lip to keep from giggling when he quickly rounds the car and settles into his seat next to you. He’s still shaking his head, quietly laughing at himself for getting so easily worked up. He turns over the engine, shifting into drive, and peers over at you with an air of disbelief.

“I’m starting to think we’re gonna have to sit in separate rows at this rate.”

Thankfully, the tension melts into easy banter and conversation on the ride to the theater. Mingyu entertains you with stories about his family and asks after yours, specifically your beloved niece whom he loves hearing about. He lets you toy around with his radio and blare some Spice Girls song that neither of you sings along to with the correct pitch…or words. It’s a blast either way.

Bold flirtation aside, Mingyu has always been a gentleman where it counts.

When you arrive at the movie theater, he opens all the doors, holds your hand every chance he gets, pays for your tickets and snacks despite your protesting, and lets you choose where to sit. The theater isn’t very full, though the movie you both decided on has been out for a while so it’s not all that surprising to see so many open seats. There are a few people scattered here and there and you don’t particularly love sitting next to others if you can avoid it.

That leaves the very front or the very back.

You glance over your shoulder at Mingyu, patiently waiting for you to decide, “You really don’t care?”

He shakes his head again with a soft smile and you sigh looking back at the open seats, “I don’t like being super close…are you okay with sitting up top?”

Mingyu’s eyes scan the very empty top rows and widen like he hadn’t actually realized how secluded they were until just now. “Totally cool,” he manages after a moment, “Lead the way.”

“Oh boy,” you whisper to yourself, turning to make your way up the stairs. You have to focus ahead and calculate the distance of each step so you don’t screw up and trip because that would be awfully embarassing. It’s dark, cold, and quiet, and there is a huge gap between the section you’re headed toward and the next closest couple sitting in the middle.

The very last row was almost too intimidating as if it somehow was the designated spot reserved for horny, depraved teenagers, and you were mid-twenty adults…so you stopped once you hit the second to last row and cut in a few seats before deciding that sitting in the middle was also weird so you dropped into the fourth seat from the aisle and forced yourself to stay put.

PIcking a seat and sticking with it has never been so daunting before.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything at all about your choice, much to your relief. If he cracked a joke about it, you think you might just burst at the seams. He just sits down in the seat next to you folding his very large frame into the too-tight space between the armrests. You’re both quiet as the lights dim and the previews start rolling but you can still feel him wiggling and adjusting himself next to you.

Your eyes meet when he accidentally bumps your arm and you smile at the fact that he is genuinely embarrassed, for no reason at all other than unintentionally taking up extra space. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t remember the seats feeling this cramped.”

“It’s really okay,” you turn, tucking his elbow safely into his side as you lift the armrest between you to give him more room, “We can share.”

“Are you sure?” his eyes seek yours again in the darkness, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You quietly snicker at his worry when he was the one being so brazen with your proximity earlier. At the same time, you can appreciate his consideration and reassure him with a gentle smile. “I really don’t mind…the extra body heat is appreciated.”

You can feel the moment Mingyu lets the tension flow out of his body. His shoulders relax until your arms touch lightly, his legs spread a little further apart as he sinks into his seat, firm thigh now pressed to the outside of your own. He’s warm and his cologne, as usual, is so rich and alluring that you know you’re going to be fighting the urge to mold yourself to his side for the next hour and a half.

Surprisingly, the movie isn’t half bad even though it was one you chose because every other film out was either super sad or overtly romantic and neither genre felt like a good fit for a first date. ‘Black Mask’ had a decent balance of action scenes and suspense that pretty easily kept your eyes on the screen, at least for a little while, sharing sour gummy worms and a soda between the two of you.

Your attention began to wane after the third time you bumped hands with Mingyu and it was lost entirely when he decided to simply hold your hand instead. Movie plot gone in an instant.

Instead of the screen, your eyes fall to your joined hands resting in his lap. They climb up to his chest, slowly rising and falling with each measured breath. Carefully, you let them slide higher, admiring the shadows projected over his throat and jaw. Higher to admire his handsome face. Higher again, just to get a little more of him, and when you get there, you find him staring back.

Neither of you shy away this time. Mingyu nervously licks his lips and his eyes flit down to yours, only for a second, just to reassure himself that you’re both on the same wavelength even though the chemistry between you has always been pretty clear. He still hesitates before he leans closer but you’re done waiting and choose to kiss him first.

It’s soft, brief, and when you part, you can see the smile on his handsome face and it brings the butterflies in your stomach back to life all over again. He cups your cheek and pulls you back into another kiss, and then another, and another. A million times you’d thought about kissing Mingyu and this was still far better than any you’d imagined thus far.

Actually kissing him highlights the small details you were missing. The bits of it that are unique and a part of him only. It’s the way his thumb strokes against your cheek, how he tilts his face and changes his angle so fluidly that you follow him like it’s completely natural, the tender way he’s slow to let go of your bottom lip and how he kisses it afterward.

It’s certainly not your first kiss or even the first time you’ve made out with someone at the movies, but this feels entirely new. Mingyu is not some hopped up, horny kid. He takes his time with you, he’s gentle, patient. It’s not sloppy or rushed. He isn’t trying to clumsily cop a feel the whole time, though, you think you’d probably let him and that he wouldn’t fumble around at all. It feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t.

You hope that you feel natural to him too.

He pulls back with a slow hum of appreciation and that’s good enough for you.. When your eyes meet, you’re both smiling, and Mingyu takes that as his good sign. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side until he feels your body relax against his and you finish the movie just like that.

Well, you’re both looking at the screen but you’re more focused on the way he continues to kiss your hair every few minutes and he’s locked on to the feeling of your nails gently drawing a line up and down his thigh.

Eventually, the lights come on and you’re a little slow to untangle as the rest of the theater clears out. It’s entirely empty by the time either of you hit the stairs.

“Soooo,” Mingyu hums, trailing behind you half a step, “Thoughts…opinions…? On the movie, of course.”

You laugh without turning around and nod your head, “Right…the movie, yeah. Just as the trailer promised,” you focus on your feet moving a step at a time and not tripping, “Perfectly executed action sequences.”

He grins to himself, tucking his chin into his chest. “I’m glad it lived up to all the hype,” he balances his weight on one foot before taking the next step, “Nothing worse than all that anticipation ending in disappointment.”

You peer over your shoulder at him, smiling coyly, “Oh, no disappointment here. I’m sure i’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.”

He huffs out a laugh, “Are we talking about the movie or the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you smirk, quickly turning around to hurry down the rest of the steps but he’s right behind you the whole way.

Just as you whip around the corner and into the dim hallway that leads to the exit, Mingyu catches you around the waist and pins you up against the wall. You can feel his heart thudding under your palms, the thrill of excitement hardly contained in his chest as his lips crash into yours.

Disappointment is so very far from your realm of feeling at the moment. Any expectation you had, which admittedly was already pretty high, was shattered and elevated yet another level each time his tongue danced across the seam of your lips or when his hands made another pass over your body.

From the beginning, you theorized that Mingyu was more than just a smooth talker. You had him pegged as a man with follow-through and you’re simply rolling in it, knowing you were right, and now you’re experiencing it for yourself which makes things that much more gratifying.

Mingyu was a certified lover boy. Called and confirmed it.

The very best part, you think to yourself as you feel him grin against your lips, is that he’s yours…or at least, he wants to be. You don’t have to let him know he’s already won.

He’s still smiling when you slide your hands over his arms, pointedly squeezing the ample muscle there, and he finishes you off with a few final, fluttering kisses.

When your eyes meet, there is a buzz of nervous laughter and Mingyu again asks, “So, the movie or the kiss?”

Your gaze drifts back down to his mouth and your stomach twists torturously when his knowing smirk reveals a prettily pointed canine. The same that’s bitten into your bottom lip a few times already this evening. You look back up and narrow your eyes playfully, “I don’t recall any kissi-”

He leans back down, slotting his lips against yours and the second he so much as breathes the door at the end of the hall clicks open and you hear two voices, likely the staff coming to clean the theater, and here you two delinquints are still splattered against the wall playing tonsil hockey.

Mingyu freezes and your eyes are wide as saucers. “Go, go around the other way!”

You have to slip out from under his frame and drag him a few feet before his mind catches up and you’re both scrambling back across the theater to the exit on the opposite side. As quietly as you can, you peek out of the small window to make sure the coast is clear and pop the door open for you both to come tumbling out.

The wide corridor outside the theater is mercifully empty but the adrenaline in your bodies’ leaves you jogging toward the side exit, laughter bubbling up and out into the open space around you. It’s all so silly and exhilarating, and when Mingyu grabs your hand, pulling you through the doors out into that warm summer air, you’re sure you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so…alive.

Or maybe there is just something about the moon and stars, and the way their enchanting glow seems to make everything in their wake just a little more beautiful. He’s one of those things - bright, beautiful, feathered and soft around the edges.

You’ve stopped to catch your breath but it remains trapped in your chest the longer you look at him. It’s suddenly a little heavy, this crush of yours, weighed down by impression of his hands on your hips, your face, the small of your back. Flirting and teasing was easy. Agreeing to finally go out with him was easy. Realizing the potential for more was real and standing in front of you was a shock to your system because you’re uncovering very quickly how much you want that with him.

“We should definitely go to dairy queen.”

It takes a minute to process his words and then with a little shake, you lift your head to find Mingyu smiling back down at you. “Feels like the movie might have left you with a lot to think about and nothing helps me sort through my head quite like ice cream.”

You cock your head to the side, the tension in your chest evaporating just like that.

“Have you always this charming?”

“When I put in the extra effort, which is only for you, sure,” he chuckles, using your joined hands to pull you a little closer as you walk alongside eachother through the parking lot, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea though.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoff, bumping into his arm with your shoulder, “Everyone loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”

His tongue pokes into his cheek, rolling his eyes skyward, “You missed the guy I had to escort out of the rink a couple weeks ago who took a few swings at me in the parking lot. Pretty sure he was not enthralled by my dazzling smile and strapping good looks.”

“One person…that’s all you got?”

Reaching his car, Mingyu opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated and looking up at him expectantly. He licks his lips and smirks, “Buckle up, you’re in for a ride.”

After grabbing ice cream, you decided making your date drive over to the shore was favorable to sitting on the sticky red tables outside the DQ, so instead, you’re sitting side by side on a small gym towel he miraculously had in his trunk, eating your deserts and swapping stories to the tune of the gentle waves crashing ashore.

So far, you’ve learned that the sole reason Mingyu got into hockey in the first place was because he was in constant trouble as a kid…in school, at home, or literally anywhere else he happened to be. His poor mother tried to put him in every sport and hobby she could think of to keep him busy and out of trouble but baseball wasn’t a fit, basketball ended in another fist fight and suspension, football benched a few and landed one kid in the hospital, and any form of martial arts was out of the question.

Finally, she found an ad in the newspaper for boy’s hockey team tryouts and the rest was history. You can clearly hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke about his original coach and his teammates. How it was touch and go from the start but no matter how much hot water he found himself in, they wouldn’t quit on him. When he realized that, he started pouring all of his pent up energy into the game and it changed him in all the best ways. It’s the whole reason he coaches today…to be someone who can make a positive change in a kid’s life the way his coach did for him.

Honestly, it’s hard to imagine Mingyu as anything other than the kind, gentle, playful guy you know him to be but everyone grows and changes. He still has a wild sort of glint in his eyes at times that lead you to believe every word he’s said about his younger years.

The sea breeze is crisp and almost a little chilly despite the warm air it mixes with so you push a little closer into Mingyu’s side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Cold?”

“A bit,” you roll your head toward him, resting it against the crook of his shoulder, “Kinda just wanted to be close to you again…despite your delinquent past, I think I like you a little.”

“A little?” he smirks, eyes darting to your mouth briefly, “I think you like me a lot.”

Scrunching your nose, you make a face at him and he tosses his head back and laughs.

“If you don’t admit it soon I’m going to have to make a huge, probably embarrassing, for you, romantic gesture,” he counters, looking very half-serious, “A big old fashioned declaration of love…in public…loudly.”

“You’re still a little shit, aren’t you?”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving the reformed bad boy thing.” He’s spot on because Mingyu is the exact kind of guy you would have had a crush on back then too.

You let out a long sigh and pick your head up, leaning to the side to bury your now-empty cup in the sand so it doesn’t blow away just like Mingyu had on his side. In the process, Mingyu slips his arm a little lower on your back, his hand curled around your hip to keep you balanced. You love every single point of contact so you fall right back into his side when you sit up again.

“To be fair, I think you’re only partly reformed,” more smirking, “Mhm, that’s exactly what I mean,” you hum in amusement, “Listen, I’ll give in…just a little…and admit that there are a lot of things I love about you..”

“I’m listening,” he purrs, ready for the boost in confidence you’re surely about to give him. Anything that could even vaguely resemble a compliment would send him over the moon coming from you.

“I love the way…you genuinely enjoy helping people,” you start quietly, soothing the subtle nerves beginning to tingle in your fingertips, “I love that you put so much time and effort into coaching your kids and how much you love talking about them…how you’ll roll your eyes and shake your head telling me stories about them and yet you always finish with a smile because ‘they’re a handful but they’re good kids’”

Mingyu snorts softly and you knowingly ask, “There’s lots of little Mingyu’s on your team, aren’t there?”

He nods slowly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “Ohhh yeahhh,” he breathes out with a light chuckle, “I understand now why my coach made me run drills until I dropped. I’ve got a couple that have already outshined my reputation at their age and some days it’s a battle of wills but they’ve come along way,” he ducks his head, grinning, “Hoping they’re the extent of my karma and it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass when I have kids one day.”

He makes a face right after he says it and looks down at you almost apologetically, “Was that weird to say on a first date? I feel like that’s something you’re supposed to avoid but you’re easy to talk to and words just fall out of my mouth sometimes.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you laugh, quirking an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s a first date but we’re not strangers, besides, I’ve always just assumed you were a family kind of guy. You talk about yours all the time, super close with your little sister, and from all i’ve witnessed, you’re just kinda great with kids in general,” you shrug, easing his worry, “I promise, it’s not a shock to me that you’d want your own and I’ll save you the torture of wondering whether to ask or not…yes, I’d like to have kids someday. Someday farrrrr away in the future.”

“Oh, good,” he chuckles, “Me too...lightyears away.”

It’s not on either of your radars currently but it’s nice to know that you have common goals for the future. It leaves a brief pause in the conversation, though not an uncomfortable one. Just a quiet moment to soak things in.

First date, first kiss(es), and it’s all going…perfectly.

It’s one thing to flirt and banter with a cute co-worker but taking the leap and going on a date together is a whole different game. There are very real feelings on both sides of the court and the potential for something real and permanent is so palpable you can feel it pushing you closer to one another. Leap again. Put yourself out there and trust the other will catch you.

Mingyu breaks the silence first and you feel his fingers twitch against your back.

“I really like you,” he says steadily, like that was the easy part, “I think you’re beautiful inside and out, stop laughing i’m being serious,” he grins and you try to reel it in for his sake, “My first day on the job I was blatantly called out and laughed at by Wonwoo after he caught me spacing out and staring at you for the third time…I don’t think I even made it an hour into my shift before I was hooked.”

“Oh, I thought you were being serious?” you grin.

“Shhhh,” he counters, “I’m not done.”

“Where was I? Oh yeah…you’re a good friend and a good person, and I like having you in my life,” he says softly, picking up your hand and pulling it into his lap, “I want to bring you home to meet my family so my mom can drag out the photo albums the way she’s always joked about doing while my sister spends the whole time telling you embarrassing things about me. They would like like you a lot. The boys on my team already like you.”

“Oh?”

He laughs, “Oh yeah, they’re always in my business and I made the mistake of bringing you up at a practice once so you’re a regular topic of discussion. I should have known I was doomed from then on and they’re brutal sometimes. One kid called me a loser because he’s fourteen and has a girlfriend and I don’t.”

“Is that how you’re asking me out? Trying to get the sympathy vote because you’re getting picked on by a bunch of kids?” you smirk.

“Maybe…is it working?” he asks, gaze dipping to your mouth for the millionth time tonight.

“I don’t know yet,” you inch a little closer, “Maybe you should try softening me up a little more before you ask again.”

He pauses, hovering just a breadth away from your face and his open mouth pulls into a sly grin, “By any means necessary?”

“Do what you have to do I suppos-”

“Niiccceee hickey.”

You slap a hand over the mark you swore you’d covered well enough with concealor, apparently not, and whip your head in Vernon’s direction. “Can you not announce it loud enough for everyone to hear?”

Vernon glances side to side. “There is literally no one except us in here and that thing announced itself.”

“What thing?”

Wonwoo comes in and drops his bag on the wooden bench, pulling out his uniform top to shrug over his shoulders. His glasses sit askew on his face and you really hope he’s got good insurance because they’re always in awful shape.

You turn and press your forehead against the cool metal of your locker door and Vernon chuckles, stowing his things noisely. “The physical evidence to prove that her date went abundantly well.”

Wonwoo smirks, walking closer to pry your hand away from your neck. He whistles. “Damn, Mingyu’s a biter…not surprised. Good luck hiding that thing - it’s going to be with you for a while.”

“Ok. Hickey expert. Thanks for your input,” you grumble.

He shrugs. “We all have interests and hobbies, and you’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning back against your locker with a pout. “I’m kinda nervous that we’re working together tonight for the first time since we went out. Do you think it will be weird?”

Vernon makes a goofy face. “Why would it be weird? I thought you said everything went well and you’re like, dating now? Did something happen?”

“No, everything was great,” you slump down a little further, “Like…too great. I’m trying not to jinx things or be weird. Are we too old to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that a thing for adults? Or did we grow out of that after high school?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, fixing the notch on his belt, “No, we’re not too old for that. He’s your boyfriend. You’re his girlfriend. Simple.”

“Is it?” you reply with a unintentional snap that doesn’t phase either of them.

Vernon sits on the bench in front of you and stretches his back out, groaning like an old man. “Yes, simple. You like him and he likes you, and you have fun together. I fail to see the problem.”

“Yeah, that’s like, the opposite of a problem,” Wonwoo agrees, “Besides…being left alone in the rink after hours sounds mighty convenient if you ask me.”

Snapping your jaw shut, your eyes widen, “What exactly are you suggesting?”

Wonwoo smirks, “I’m not suggesting anything but an opportunist would use their imagination.”

Both you and Vernon peg Wonwoo with a suspicious stare.

“With all due respect,” you say slowly, your eyebrow steadily raising with each word, “I didn’t think you rolled like that.”

“Neither did I,” Vernon adds, equally intrigued.

“You’re kind of a freak, aren’t you?”

“Who’s a freak?”

All three of you startle and whirl around to see Mingyu coming through the door. His hair is wet, likely freshly showered after hockey practice, and he’s looking at each of you with a clueless grin.

“Nothing and no one!” you reply with a grin, already floating toward the hunk in the doorway, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins down at you, “I see you and I got stuck closing tonight.”

You swallow down the knot in your throat and hold up a middle finger behind your back directed at Vernon and Wonwoo’s snickering.

“Yep,” you bounce on your toes, “Just you and I…closing everything down…together…tonight.”

Mingyu’s lips pinch together to hold in a laugh. You were always so bold and confident when it came to teasing him and now, he can tell you’re having to make a great effort to hold it all together. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he chooses, satisfied when your eyes widen just a touch, “I think Jim’s looking for you by the way. If you’re done getting-”

“Yes,” you squeeze his arms and then move past him at lightening speed, rushing out the door.

Mingyu just stands there and laughs quietly before looking up to see the grin on Vernon and Wonwoo’s faces. “Alright, how much did she tell you?”

“Didn’t have to tell us much at all.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “The bite marks you left told us everything we needed to know.”

Mingyu’s eyes drop to the floor as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’s glad the ones you left on him are covered by his collar because he just barely got away with blaming it on equipment mishandling when one of the older boys in his youth league pointed one out with a mischievous laugh.

Vernon claps a hand over his shoulder on his way out the door causing Mingyu to look back up again. “Happy for you, dude. She’s a good one.”

Mingyu smiles softly, “Thanks, man.”

When he leaves, Mingyu pushes further into the room and starts getting himself situated, glancing over at Wonwoo every now and then like he’s waiting for him to say something.

“I can feel you staring,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes now glued to his Game Boy Pocket as he tries to save his progress from earlier.

Mingyu shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, pushing his bag into his locker.

Wonwoo puts his game down and looks up. “Whaddaya want, Hot Wheels?”

He pauses, making a face at the nickname, and then carefully asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it for me to-”

“Make a move tonight?”

Mingyu’s mouth pops open. “Oh,” he blinks, “You read minds too?”

Wonwoo sighs and leans back a touch, both hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath him. “To be fair, that’s exactly what I’d be thinking about if I were in your position. Empty building…gorgeous girlfriend…”

Mingyu scoffs, “Alright, easy…”

He gets a smirk in return and Wonwoo stands, stretching his long limbs. “I’m not wrong and also not interested in your girl so relax,” he leans down and tugs on the laces of his skates and then straightens out, “You both think too much. Just be normal. Do the same lovey dovey, flirty shit you always do and see how the night goes.”

“You’re kind of good at this,” Mingyu compliments, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, “What do you get up to when you’re off the clock and not playing big brother of the year?”

Nearing the door, Wonwoo just turns over his shoulder and tosses Mingyu a wink.

He’s handed out enough advice for one night.

You were still jittery when Mingyu joined you out on the floor but falling into the same routine was pretty simple, just like Vernon and Wonwoo said, and it took loads of anxious tension off your shoulders. If anything, Mingyu was more playful with his teasing and a little more bold with his physical affection when others weren’t paying attention.

It was like a game of how flustered he could make you without getting in trouble for fooling around on the job. The floor was crowded which simply meant he got to stay a little closer to you without looking suspicious which allowed him to find out how fun it was to pull you around by the belt loops of your pants.

He loved the little noise of surprise you let out every time he snuck up behind you, hooking his finger through the loop to tug you back against his chest where he pretended to tell you something important. Like he was just trying to talk to you over the sound of the music when he had nothing but more teasing to whisper in your ear.

The hours flew by unnoticed and before long, you were bidding your last goodbyes to the rest of the staff having finished their own cleaning and closing duties.

Mingyu went into the office to toy with the audio system after you asked to throw something on just so it wasn’t silent in the big dark building while you followed Vernon and Wonwoo to the doors to lock up after them.

Vernon shifts his bag on his shoulder and cuts a sideways glance in your direction. “You gonna be okay?”

You shrug, touched and confused he’d asked. “Yeah, I’ve closed up a million times. All good.”

Wonwoo pats the top of your head like a puppy. They both have a habit of that.

“He meant, are you gonna be okay here alone with Mingyu? Are you comfortable with us leaving - not that I think he’d ever do something to hurt or upset you…I’d kill him and he knows it…but you give us the word and we’ll stay.”

“Oh,” you blink and wave your hands dismissively, “No, we’re good! I was just worried about being a loser earlier but we’re totally fine!”

“We thought so,” Vernon grins, pushing the glass door open, “Just checking.”

It’s sweet and embarrassing that they’d thought to ask and you tell them as much as you gently push Vernon through the doorway. “Thought for a minute you were finally ready to confess,” you joke, fake pout on your lips and all, “I’ll drop him like a hot potato if you ask, Nonnie.”

Wonwoo follows him out and laughs, “You’re full of shit but I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment. By the way, if you find yourself in need…Jihoon keeps condoms in his locker.”

You slap a hand over your mouth, covering your shocked laughter. “First of all, mind your business and second, what the hell?!”

Vernon shrugs, “Man likes to be prepared I guess!”

….Line cooks are one of a kind. Truly.

You’re shaking your head as they wave goodbye and walk off toward Wonwoo’s car as it must have been his turn to carpool. Pulling the doors shut, you carefully lock each one and double check them before turning on your heel and then the music cuts on over the speakers. It’s not crazy loud but enough to keep the odd sounds that accompany a big old building from rattling in your ears.

Mingyu pops his head out of the office when you round the corner and you cock your head in question, “Beastie Boys?”

“Couldn’t get the discs to work so radio it is,” he shrugs, “I can find something else if you want.”

You shake your head, brushing past his shoulder into the small office to sit down and reconcile the financials for the night. “I’m not picky. Did you already grab the bags from the registers?”

He nods, “Yep, everything’s there and Jim left the keys for the safe in the desk,” Mingyu squeezes your shoulders when you sit down and you smile up at him. “I’m going to knock out the kitchen and rental walk-throughs while you count if that’s okay? After that we will just have shut down the arcade and I can take out the left over trash bags.”

“That would be amazing,” you tell him, head still cushioned against the office chair as you smile lazily up at him, “I just love a man that knows how to take charge and get the job done.”

He immediately chokes out a laugh and turns on his heel muttering something about how ‘he’s not going to get anything done if you keep that up’ as he walks away.

It takes another full minute to bring the task at hand back into focus and you have to consciously fight off the intrusive inappropriate thoughts clouding your brain when it’s supposed to be crunching numbers. You even have to recount a few bags because the image of Mingyu sitting you on the desk you’re working at to do dirty things with you keeps popping into your head and it’s getting harder and harder to focus. After probably twice the amount of time it usually takes you to do the financials, you’re finally done and locking the safe when Mingyu returns.

“Oh, hey,” you perk up when you notice him in the doorway, “Ready to go do the arcade?”

“Already done,” he snickers, “I came back after walk-throughs and caught you cursing and restarting your counts so I just went ahead and finished up the list.”

“Oh!” you shift on your feet, “...guess we’re all done then.”

Mingyu crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame looking extra swoon-worthy. Not a single poster of your favorite 80s and 90s heartthrobs plastered to the walls of your old bedroom held a candle to the picture in front of you and he knows it.

“You sound disappointed. I’m sure we could find other things to do if you wanna stay a little longer,” his eyes shift over to the audio system, still playing a mix of alternative and pop hits, and fixes his eyes back on you, “Ever considered making out with someone in an empty skating rink with No Doubt playing over the speakers?”

“Can’t say I have. What about you?”

Mingyu grins, shifting his weight to tower over you, “Thought just now crossed my mind.”

He slides one hand beneath your jaw and the other over your hip, slotting his lips against yours as he walks you back until you bump into the desk behind you. After teasing you with your belt loops all night, you decide to return the favor, licking at the seam of his lips as you hook your fingers in his front loops and pull him closer. He laughs against your lips and pulls back to meet your eyes. “That’s my move.”

“I liked it, so I think I’ll steal it,” you smirk, tugging at the loops still.

“We should probably get our things and head out before I do something stupid and incredibly irresponsible,” he chuckles though there is a very real edge to his tone like he’s trying hard to behave himself right now.

“What kind of stupid and irresponsible things?” you test him, releasing his belt loops to hook your index finger into the waist band of his pants instead, “I might be interested.”

The hand on your hip squeezes and he bites out a laugh. “Who’s the delinquent now?”

“Still you, but I recounted those bags because I kept getting interrupted by steamy office fantasies popping into my head so if you’d rather take me home before we make questionable decisions, we should probably leave now.”

He groans, torn between having to wait or giving in and having you right here, right now. The cons would be that it’s A.) your work place, B.) it’s not the cleanest place to hook up, and C.) he has to wait when his body is begging him otherwise.

As luck has it, you decide for him.

“Can we go to your place? My roommate is home tonight and she’s got hard rules against hooking up when the other is home. She doesn’t even really like when I have friends over but her name is on the lease so I don’t argue much.”

Mingyu shuts off his internal debate processing, grateful to have you choose for the both of you. “My roommates work the late shift at the bar on 89th so they will probably come home at some point but they don’t care about guests…or girlfriends. We respect that rule in regards to privacy.”

“Ugh,” you rolls your eyes, relaxing in his hold, “That must be so nice. Got an extra room at your place?”

“Got plenty of space for you in mine,” he smirks, “Alright let me grab our bags from the locker room and we’ll get out of here. Did you drive?”

You shake your head, moving to turn off the audio system, “No, I took the bus today.”

“Sweet, we’ll take my car home and won’t have to worry about leaving yours.”

It’s funny how you’re both being so casual at the moment as if you weren’t pinned up against the desk, debating whether you should desecrate the business office, and now you’re both going about your normal routines as if you didn’t just agree that you’re leaving to go directly to his place to hook up for the first time.

It catches up with you when Mingyu pulls up to the front of his shared beach house and cuts the engine. You look at the light blue house and catch the subtle sounds of the ocean not far off. “I had no idea you lived on the island,” you share as you get out of the car and walk together toward the door.

Mingyu hands you the key and takes your bag so you can open the door. “Yeah, we’ve been here about a year now. Used to share a condo a little further in but we spend a lot of time at the beaches here so when this place opened up we snagged it as quick as we could.”

Pushing inside, it’s exactly what you imagine a triad of bachelors to live in. Everything is clean but the couch is a futon, there are two cd towers filled with music you’d love to check out, a few bean bag chairs, a stereo system big enough to take up half a wall, and theres a couple of empty corona bottles spread on the low table in the living room next to a few gaming controllers.

Mingyu groans when he sees them and glances over apologetically. “I definitely asked them to clean those up when I left this morning. You’d think a couple of bartenders would know how to recycle empty beer bottles. I swear we have manners.”

You laugh and follow him to what you assume is his bedroom down the hall. He opens the door and drops both bags next to his dresser before flicking on a lamp. “Wasn’t expecting to bring you back here so I am glad my cleaning habits are something of use,” he pulls open a drawer and grabs a random t-shirt before handing it to you, “Here, you can wear this if you want and I’ll show you where the bathroom is…I just uhhh..I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable changing out of your uniform.”

You raise a brow at him, “What? My Dickies and pinstrip ref polo aren’t sexy enough for you?”

He smirks back, “Anything you wear is sexy enough for me but the sex and dating column in Cosmopolitan’s spring magazine says a woman’s comfort comes before all else and is the key to a healthy, thriving relationship.”

“You read Cosmo?”

He shrugs, “Had to pick my mom and sister up at the hair salon and got there on time which was apparently thirty minutes early. There was nothing else to do.”

“Learn anything else?” you ask just before he leaves you at the bathroom door.

Mingyu tugs the frosty bleached tips of his hair. “Learned six new ways to accesorize with butterfly clips and that my horoscope for last month was only half correct,” he grins, “Let me know if you need anything, babe, i’m gonna use the other bathroom to clean up.”

You mumble back an OK and shut the door, bumping into the counter. “Babe?” you repeat quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror.

The reality of you having a super-hot-hockey-player boyfriend who is also insanely sweet and volunteers his free time to coach a youth league, and is an amazing kisser, and the kind of guy that calls you babe, crashes into you completely and you’re scrambling to clean yourself up, change, steal some mouthwash, and give yourself a full pep talk before you emerge god knows how long later.

Following the same path back to Mingyu’s room, you pause at the door and take a deep breath before re-entering his space.

He’s laying in his bed tossing a small blue ball up and down with one hand while he waits. You’re pleased to see that he decided not to put a shirt on, lounging only in a pair of basketball shorts, because you also decided to ditch half your clothing. The opposite half.

The ball lands in his palm with an audible smack and he looks up when you step into his room, closing the door behind you.

“Wait right there,” he throws out a hand as you take a step closer and you hesitate, “I just want to burn this image into my memory for all of eternity.”

Rolling your eyes with a soft laugh, you walk the rest of the way over to Mingyu who reaches for your hand and pulls you up onto his bed to straddle his lap comfortably. His hands move up and down your thighs and he’s smiling at you all the while. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighs and then shakes his head when you try to brush him off. “Genuinely. I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You’re not even wearing pants to get into.”

He’s amusing and captivating when he’s like this, hands exploring every inch of exposed skin, chest pressed against yours, his face turned up as he looks at you with that white-hot gaze. It further drives your need to touch and feel him so you wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely, letting your fingers dance over the muscle in his back.

Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed, only for a moment as your nails trail over his spine, and you smile to yourself, overjoyed with the feeling of his body beneath yours.

“This feels a little surreal,” you speak quietly and he hums in response, setting his eyes back on your face, “I mean…”

“Ahhhhhh,” he grins, lacing his fingers together where his hands rest on your lower back, kept warm under your shirt, “Because you’ve been dreaming about me every night since we met?”

“Something like that,” you sigh and Mingyu shuts up, not expecting you to give in so easily. You pinch the hair at the nape of his neck tugging it nervously, “You should probably kiss me before I say something even more embarrassing.”

Mingyu chuckles and his eyes dip to your mouth. He captures your lips easily, moving his hands against the planes of your back as he kisses you until your mind clouds over.

His hair is soft between your fingers, the silly frosted ends tickling your skin when you give a little experimental tug. Wonwoo teased him endlessly for falling for the fad but you had to admit you liked it on him.

You’d probably like anything on him though. Besides, it wasn’t long before Wonwoo broke down and tried it too albeit a bit more subtle and less Backstreet Boys.

Mingyu braces his forearm behind your hips and tugs. His skin is hot and he keeps you still against him, not like you plan on shifting away, but the need to be touched, held…anchored to him is met without needing to ask. It feeds into your confidence allowing you to move more freely, rolling your hips, arching your back until your chest is pushing into his and he just can’t stand the fabric in the middle.

The shirt he’d given you doesn’t even fully hit the ground before his arms are wrapped around your body again and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips trailing over your throat, shoulders, collar bones. Whatever he can reach without letting go.

A sharp gasp hits the air when his tongue dips to the base of your throat and he closes his lips over that same spot with a kiss. Thighs trembling, you hope he doesn’t comment on the pathetic way your cunt squeezes around nothing. He says nothing though. Instead, he groans deep in his chest and his hands tighten possesively.

Then he does it again, and again. He encourages your real, raw reactions, full intending to pull them from you until you let go of whatever mental block is keeping you from letting him know exactly how much you love the way he makes you feel.

Pretty soon he succeeds and you’re no longer trying to hold yourself together, holding your breath, or trying to be quiet.

Mingyu drags his teeth along your collarbones and grins at the soft hum you let out, so at odds with the way your body jumps at the sharp sensation.

“You like that, huh?”

It take an extra few seconds to process his words, brain near mush from his attention.

“So you do like it,” Mingyu laughs, pecking a small kiss to your shoulder, “What else do you like?”

You’ve only just now formed a response to his first question and now he’s asking another and he’s smirking. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose…

Your mouth pops open to say something, what that might have been, you’ll never know because at the same time, Mingyu leans back a little and drags your hips over his, grinding his erection against your sensitive cunt. “You like that?”

At this point, you give up on words and just nod your head fervently. Yes, I fucking like that.

His hands ghost up your sides until his thumbs are brushing against your breasts. He pauses, testing the water before diving in, and he catches the hitch in your breath. The way your head drops back just a touch like all this is making you a little dizzy. He leans forward and presses a kiss against your sternum before falling back against the pillows to take in the full picture.

You, perched in his lap with your back arched, pushing your aching breasts into his hands to play with. It’s the exact shit he’s fallen victim to in a wet dream but this is real and far better because here you are, in the flesh, gripping onto his wrists and rocking your hips against him for an inkling of relief from how much he’s turned you on.

It’s wearing his patience down and is going to bite him in the ass if he doesn’t move things along. He prematurely finished one time and it still haunted him at night. Never again.

Hopefully.

Mingyu makes a miraculous maneuver, with you landing on your back at his side, somehow, without twisting or pinning someone’s limb in the process.

“That was very smooth.”

You’re staring back up at him in wonder, partly because you’re not used to being tossed around like that, but also because he’s looking down at you with a serious, heated expression and it’s making your heart beat a little too fast.

“Can I touch you?” he askes softly and you’re immediately nodding. “Yeah?” he mimics the motion in a daze, eyes glued to your mouth, “Come here.”

Easy. You kiss him, well, it’s pretty equal efforts but you get to him first, too impatient to wait even half a second more. His hand moves over your hip slowly, then shifts to brush against your naval where he rests it for a moment, heat from his skin seeping into yours.

He’s planning on making good on his request, though you beat him to it again.

Mingyu parts his lips with a sigh when he feels your hand slide over his. Your fingers curl around his palm and you guide his hand lower. He asked to touch you and then made you wait - whether it be on purpose or just his own nerves - you’ll help him help you.

He doesn’t seem to mind and rewards you instantly with his thick fingers rubbing against your cunt through your panties. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan and his brows knit together right as the sound hits his ears. His gaze is unwavering and you almost wish he would just kiss you again instead of studying your face this closely…then his middle finger presses down a little harder and the sound you let out that time makes the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smirk.

It doesn’t even slip away when he leans down and kisses you, his smirk still obviously tugging at his lips when they touch yours. His hand pushes inside your underwear and he groans into your mouth when he feels how wet and warm you are but he doesn’t have time to waste or savor the feeling because he needs you to cum on his fingers at least once before he fucks you and his will to wait it out is all but gone.

You’re responsive to every stroke, gasping and whimpering, digging your nails into his arm. Your back arches up off the bed every time he pumps his fingers faster, rubbing them up against your g-spot with expert ease because, hell yeah he reads cosmo, he’s too fucking good at it to not have been guided by the devine-feminine mind.

Mingyu’s mouth envelopes one of your nipples and his tongue rolls against it at almost the same pace and pattern he’s rubbing your own slick into your clit and that’s enough to send you over the edge. He tries to be patient, to let you come down before he goes reaching for a condom but he catches the time on his digital alarm clock, the numbers glaring at him in bright red.

It was already past midnight meaning having the house to himself is ending relatively soon.

You don’t need the extra recovery time though, in fact, it’s the opposite. What you need is more and you need it now. “Mingyu…” he hums in response and you will your mouth to work again, “Do you even play basketball?”

He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Poking your tongue in your cheek you nod and point to his shorts, “...Off.”

Mingyu grins as he leans down and kisses you before rolling out of bed and your lips turn up into a smile, a breathless laugh floating up into the air. He drops his shorts and steps out in white Calvin Kleins stretched taut over his golden thighs, showing off every inch of his assets, and you have to prop yourself up on your elbows to even get the full picture.

Move over Marky Mark.

You’re too busy staring at Mingyu’s body to notice him taking the opportunity to appreciate yours. It’s just a brief moment to sate both your curiosities because though neither of you would prefer to admit it, you’ve thought about each other naked and probably more than once. Getting handsy on your date gave you a bit of an idea but the overwhelmingly obvious dick print staring you in the face at the moment confirms your indecent theory about what Mingyu might be packing…

And that has got to be the ‘Pony’ Ginuwine was singing about.

When your eyes meet somewhere in the middle, you both turn away quickly, embarrassed only slightly for getting caught. It was a good feeling to know that the attraction is mutual. You hear a drawer close softly and feel the dip in the bed when he slides under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you land almost nose to nose and Mingyu grins, “I like it when you check me out.”

You answer him with a kiss that starts out innocently enough but it’s such a dizzying sensation to be so wrapped up in him that whatever witty retort you had been thinking of is lost in the way his fingers squeeze into your side. He sighs against your lips when he drags you closer and your thigh settles high on his hip, wrapping your body around him tightly. Without thought or hesitation, he drives his pelvis forward, rubbing his erection into your sensitive cunt.

It makes you break for air, drawing too much of it into your lungs just to sharply moan through the exhale when he doesn’t stop. The muscles in his arms are so taut beneath your fingers that you know he’s not doing it to tease you - he’s at his breaking point and really just can’t help himself.

One hand slides down and pushes against the waistband of his briefs, rolling the material down as best you can until it catches his attention so his can finish the job himself. He groans, mostly to acknowledge your intentions, but also because he’s slowly trying to reel himself back for a moment. Just long enough to peel the last bits of clothing off you both and get a rubber on. It’s probably one of the most ridiculously inconvenient things he’s been made to do in a long time.

Neither of you say a word as he rips open the foil, trying to keep his hands still enough to roll the condom on correctly. It feels like static in his veins, trying to sit still when everything inside his body is screaming go, go, go! You can feel it too, the buzz of anticipation, the pulse between your thighs.

Then, there is a pause after he rolls back over, covering your bare body with his own, and he just looks at you for a moment, mouth tight. Your hands slide over his arms, up his shoulders, and settle on his face. “Everything ok?”

“Just wanna do this right,” he whispers back, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand.

The corners of your lips lift in a small smile. “Feels pretty right to me, if that helps.”

The tension in his shoulders melts away and he relaxes his pinched brows. “It does help,” he says, one big hand stroking the outside of your thigh around his waist, “Just…talk to me if there is anything you want or don’t like.”

“I will,” you reassure him and he eyes you wearily one more time until you sigh, “I promise.”

That seems to be enough for him as he shifts between your legs and you let your hands fold over his shoulders, trying hopelessly to relax your body when you feel his fingers on you again. He doesn’t keep them there long, just enough to make sure you’re still wet before he’s gripping his cock, guiding himself into your heat.

The pressure is immense and Mingyu feels you tense up beneath him. He pulls his other arm up and shifts his weight over to one side, grabbing your face with his free hand. “Breathe,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to look at him, “Just breathe, baby.”

Easier said than done but you exhale shakily and his thumb brushes against your cheek. Mingyu draws his hips back slightly and pushes further in, eyes falling to your mouth when it pops open. The feeling of fullness is all encompassing and all you can think about. So full you might burst at the seams but again, you will yourself to relax and he finally, finally bottoms out.

You let out a sharp breath and just can’t seem to catch it.

Mingyu seems unsure of whether he should move or not and he barely gets the question out before you’re nodding. The first few thrusts are still tender and he’s still mindful of that but after a minute or so, the tides turn and you’re digging your heels into his backside, pulling him deeper.

Mentally, emotionally, physically deeper.

He’s a romantic through and through, including in times like this where he’s drunk on pussy and pure infatuation. He can’t get enough. The way you feel around him, clinging to his body, hands against his chest, eyes glued to his. He’s in severely dangerous territory and clamps his lips shut until the words sitting there fizzle out. Patience is what he needs. In his mind and in his heart.

His body is on an entirely different page.

Mingyu is smooth and consistent in his movements, like water in and around you. His name spills from your lips reverently, whispered into the air between you and it feeds him, pushes him to fufill your needs in a way you knew deep down he would. He’s a pleaser in every way.

So, when you slow him down with your palms firmly planted against his chest, he stops and listens. His attentiveness almost makes it harder to speak.

“Can I uh…like would you mind if I…laid on my stomach?” you ask unevenly, not really sure why you’re hesitating to share what you want when that is what he’s asked of you.

Mingyu looks like he’s died and gone to heaven. He doesn’t even answer. Carefully, he pulls out and moves so he can roll you over, prop your hips up, and fill you right back up. This time there is no slow start. His hand settles on your back, just between your shoulder blades, and he holds you there, pinning you in place in such a way that your eyes close on contact. Perfectly content to stay put.

The room is filled with lewd noises. Skin slapping against skin. Deep grunting and moaning sounds mixed together. Your muffled voice chanting his name over and over again. Mingyu’s quiet praises tickling your ears when your head turns fuzzy.

It’s a good thing no one is home because it’s almost embarrassing how loudly passionate you both are. You regret not asking Mingyu to turn on the radio to drown out the noise but it’s too late now and with another tug upwards on your hips, he’s stroking your walls just right and you hit an entirely new set of notes.

Mingyu can feel you squeezing around him, mewling into his pillows and he’s hanging on for dear life because you’re still skirting around the edge and he’s seconds from toppling over. An idea pops into his head, a catch twenty-two really because in doing this, he puts himself at further risk of finishing first but it’s still too enticing to pass up.

Somehow, he manages to roll your bodies together until he hits the mattress, successfully claiming his spot as your big spoon. He hooks his left arm under your head so that it’s rested on his bicep while his hand is free to roam your chest and his right arm snakes over your hip before you feel his middle and ring finger slip between your folds.

With you tightly wound up in his hold he picks up a brutal, finishing pace. He hits all the right spots and works your body until you’re seeing stars. Your breathing now harsh and uneven limits your ability to speak but you don’t need to say anything at all.

Mingyu knows your coming and he’s going right along with you. When your orgasm hits, you bear down against him, crying out in broken sounds as he pumps his hips through his own release. He continues to hold you against his chest, gently kneading at the fleshy part of your hip.

He presses kisses against your hair and then carefully, he pulls out before rolling you onto your back. Mingyu’s smile is adoring and beautiful, it makes you want to bury your face in the pillows again. The blanket will have to do.

“Why are you hiding?” Mingyu chuckles, grabbing at the blanket, “Was it that bad?”

You flip the sheet down and give him a blank stare.

“Shut up,” you bite, a hint of a smile appearing, “You know it was good. Better than good.”

“How good?” he smirks.

With an eye roll, you pull the blanket up just high enough to cover the lower half of your face. “Really fucking good…and you’re not even slightly winded.”

He’s on top of the world.

“My stamina is just another one of my many desirable qualities,” he half-shrugs, “If you’re still not in love with me, I’m happy to keep trying.”

“Will you stop when I do?”

“Not a chance,” he grins, one hand squeezing your thigh as he swoops in to steal another kiss, “Stay with me tonight. I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast”

You pretend to think about it when you know you’ll say yes, and not just because you don’t have a car. A sleepover? With your hot boyfriend? Who just rocked your world and will probably do it again and then cook for you in the morning? Yeah, that’s a no-brainer.

“I could probably be convinced if you find me something comfy to wear and have a spare pack of noodles…I’m starving.”

Mingyu jumps out of bed, the sight of his bare cheeks making you turn and giggle. “I’m about to make you the best noodles of your life,” he walks over to his dresser pulling out underwear for himself, a clean t-shirt, and blue-plaid pajama pants, then he tugs open another drawer and turns to you, holding out a big soft-looking jacket, “I think you’ll like this one. I don’t have any pants that will fit you but this is pretty long. Oooh,” he pauses, “I didn’t think about underwear when I-”

“Ruined mine?” you raise your brow teasingly, sitting up and making grabby hands for the sweater he tosses to you.

He scoffs, tip of his tongue poking at his teeth. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

Your voice is muffled as you pull the sweater over your head before climbing out of bed, pleased that it indeed covers you well. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to keep an extra pair in my bag.” You mention this so casually that he’s stunned when you walk over to grab said panties from your bag and kiss his cheek before turning to leave, “I’m gonna go clean up. Meet you in the kitchen for those mind blowing noodles?”

Mingyu hollers back as you near the bathroom door. “I’ll blow your mind in the kitchen alright!”

He slumps against the dresser when he hears you respond with, “I’m sure you will, babe!”

Babe. Ugh, you’re so it for him.

The steam of the shower mixed with some kind of masculine aroma in Mingyu’s body wash gives off the same feeling of being in his arms and the thought warms your belly again. It’s almost embarrassing, how much you want him just after having him in full, but you’re sure he’d be happy to oblige even if you so much as hinted at it.

Maybe he will blow your mind in the kitchen.

As you’re wrapping up and getting dressed you hear music, oddly loud for the hour but it’s vaguely familiar, still muffled by the sound of the vents running to air out the steam in the bathroom. Then there’s a crash, not earth shattering but enough that you’re slightly concerned. You hurry to hang your towel and pull on your clean underwear and his sweater when you hear another bump against the wall. Then…singing?

“Kiss meeee out of the bearded bobby~”

“NIGHTLYYYY beside the greanbeann grass~”

You poke your head into the hallway, “Um…Mingyu?”

“SWIIINGG SWIINNG-”

“Swing the spinnnning stem~”

Definitely not Mingyu. Also, definitely not the right words to this song but your interest is piqued.

You come around the corner to find him in the center of the living room, quietly laughing, holding the hand of one of his very jovial (probably drunk) maybe roommates while the other (definitely drunk) maybe roommate is spinning around them in circles, bumping into things along the way.

The one with bright blonde hair pokes Mingyu mid-spin, “You wear the shoes and I’ll wear a dressss~”

Then the his drinking partner joins in and their both belting out, “oOHHH Kiss meeee, beneath the melting twilight~”

Mingyu points to the blonde and shouts over the noise, “That one’s Hoshi.”

“Lead meeee, out on the moonlit flooOr!”

He gestures at the one hanging off his arm, the tall boy with shaggy black hair, “This one’s Minghao. They’re plastered, obviously.”

They’re delightful and Hoshi is coming your way with a cat-like smile. He bows, almost stumbles, and reaches for your hand which you’re happy to share. “Lift your open hand…” he serenades, lifting yours into the air, “Strike up the band and make firefights dance silver moons sparkly~”

And he spins you away so quickly you almost stumble but Mingyu catches you around the waist with Minghao singing over your shoulder in a whisper, “So, kiss me.”

And Mingyu does, of course, he’s not going to miss the opportunity. Minghao grins, leaning against the wall to catch his balance, and Hoshi claps…a little bit like a buffoon but you really like them both. Mingyu must really love them because he doesn’t complain one bit about the noise and overly dramatic show, especially with it being your first impression. It helps that he knows how laid back you are and can see the delight still dancing in your eyes.

He does however, turn down the music on the stereo so everyone can talk without shouting.

“You do know you guys are supposed to be serving the alcohol…not drinking it…right?”

“Don’t be r- *hiccup* -rude!” Hoshi flaps his hand dismissively, “I’ll tell your pretty girlfriend about all the times we had to hold your hair back, our sweet little Mingoo ~”

Minghao giggles, bumping into Hoshi’s shoulder, “Or about how you,” he pauses, the two of them bursting into hysterics as Mingyu sighs like he knows what’s coming. Minghao wipes away a tear, still cackling, “About how you got totally tanked that weekend you first started working at Wheelie’s and whined alllll nighttttt-”

Hoshi whacks Mingyu’s shoulder laughing and then looks at you, “He wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night. Crying into his beer…because he thought you were dating the DJ.”

Your hand flies over your mouth, giggling up at your boyfriend who is being a really good sport right now. Even as he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head at his friends.

“Vernon and I were never dating,” you fake sniffle, “Sadly.”

“Sadly?!” Mingyu swings his head around toward you, “I thought the soulmate thing was a joke?” he laughs.

“Oh, baby, it is a joke,” you reassure him, patting his chest gently but just when he relaxes you whisper, “Until it isn’t.”

Hoshi sticks out his hand as he’s stumbling toward the kitchen and you land a low-five as he goes, and one up top when Minghao follows behind him excitedly mumbling about making drinks for everyone, then Hoshi is shouting about noodles ‘for the love of god, we need more noodles!’

Mingyu sighs and you know he’s about to complain that he no longer has you to himself. Can practically hear it in your head already. So, you cut him off before he can start, tugging him down into a kiss hot enough to make him groan against your lips as his hands dip down to take handfuls of you.

Then he’s laughing, falling out of rythym and you pull back, smiling. “What?”

You squawk in surprise when he smacks your ass and says, “You know you’re still not wearing pants, right?”

Actually, you forgot because of the whole song and dance thing.

“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble, tugging his sweater further down your thighs, “I could go throw my work pants-”

“I can try to find you som-”

You both look toward the kitchen when music starts playing and Mingyu shakes his head, almost regretting stowing his portable radio in there for when he’s cooking. It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, like someone cranked the volume all the way up, it’s starts blasting and they’re both singing.

“Ooooh baby, baybay, b-baby, baybaby, oooh baby-”

Mingyu just laughs. “On second thought, don’t even worry about it. They aren’t going to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.”

“I like them,” you grin.

His shoulder shake with mirth, “Of course you do.”

You giggle when one of the guys starts shouting the words and grab Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along behind you. “Come on, noodles, drinks, Salt-n-Pepa,” he fake groans and you squeeze his hand, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a sleepover in years.”

Then he’s grinning, “Well, we can make it a regular thing if you want.”

You turn, just before you get to the kitchen and push up to kiss his cheek, “Whatever you say, Hot Wheels.”

“Oh, come on,” he drags his feet after you, “Can we pick a new nickname?!”

“Sure. Come on, Coach Kim. Let’s go play in the kitchen.”

He stumbles a step and shakes his head. “Am I supposed to pretend it doesn’t make me kind of horny when you call me that? God, please don’t hold that against me. I am only a man.”

Oh? Good to know. “Whatever you say, Coach.”

Thanks for reading! 💖

SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

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lupinqs · 6 days ago

Text

CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader.

☆ ━ word count: 5.4K

☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)

☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write

PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.

And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.

She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.

And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.

So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.

Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)

From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.

And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.

It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.

You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.

But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.

With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.

Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.

Right into you.

The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.

She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.

The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.

So much for not getting distracted.

After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.

Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.

And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.

She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.

You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”

Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.

But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.

There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”

You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”

There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.

“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.

You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.

You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”

And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.

She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.

IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.

Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.

She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.

“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.

Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”

But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.

“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”

You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”

Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”

KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.

There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.

“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”

You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”

She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…

She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—

Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”

Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”

Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”

Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.

As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.

Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.

It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.

“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.

“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.

There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.

“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.

You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.

“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.

Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.

Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”

You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”

Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”

You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”

Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.

There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”

Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”

You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”

The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”

You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”

Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.

She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”

You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”

She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”

It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.

And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.

Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”

The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.

“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”

It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.

Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”

It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.

The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.

Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.

When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.

Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”

Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”

The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.

“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wbb #uconn #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fluff #wlw #lgbtq #paige buckets #wcbb #wbb x reader

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seoktized · 6 months ago

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nsfw mdni!

a/n: cheol rot is back guys.. this has been sittin’ in my drafts for a while n i wanted to try n finish it :> hope you enjoy <3 reblogs are appreciated

thinkin’ about sugardaddy husband!seungcheol who’ll spoil you with so many gifts !!

whether it’s designer clothes or jewelry, if he thinks you’ll like it, he’s getting it for you!

loves to take you on shopping sprees, carrying all your bags and watching with a smile as you excitedly walk into another store. he loves to see you happy.

now if you two were to step in a lingerie store, he gets a bit excited, knowing you guys’ll walk out with something he can ravish you in later.

seungcheol, who looks absolutely delicious, manspreading with his sleeves pulled up, is watching as you show him different sets. yes, he was hard but he had a good bit of self restraint. but when you stepped out with a gorgeous color that complemented your skin so well, all that restraint went out the window.

next thing you know, you’re being pushed back into the dressing room, his lips finding yours. he pushed the door closed and locked it. his large hands felt around your body before he pulled back to get a good look at you before diving back in, kissing your jaw and down your neck.

“mmph- cheol, baby not here!” you whispered. he groaned into your neck, not giving up on his ministrations.

“baby i really need you to ride me right now. you look so pretty in this set.” he said in between kisses, “wanna buy a hundred of ‘em so i can rip ‘em all off of you.”

he moved over to sit on the chair in the corner of the dressing room, pulling you along with him and onto his lap.

seungcheol placed you right over his thick bulge, groaning as you rolled your hips against him.

you quickly unbuttoned his pants (which looked like they were going to burst at the seam at how thick his cock AND his thighs were) he helped you a bit by ridding himself of his pants and his boxers, his thick hard cock springing out and slapping against his stomach.

you spat on your hand, coating his length a bit before moving your own underwear to the side and sinking down on him. you never got used to the delicious stretch he’d give you every time, soft broken moans leaving your mouth.

“can’t make too much noise, princess. fuck- don’t want anyone to hear how dirty you’re being.” he said through gritted teeth.

when you began to bounce on his cock, seungcheol threw his head back, trying not to moan loudly himself. his bottom lip caught between his teeth while he watched you make a mess on his cock. his hands that were on your thighs went to your ass, squeezing the flesh softly.

trying not to moan was impossible as his tip was hitting that spot that sent sparks throughout your whole body. burying your face in the crook of his neck, you whimpered quietly.

“cheollie ‘m getting tired..” you mumbled.

“s’okay, doll, you can relax. lemme help you.” he reassured.

you relaxed your body and let seungcheol take over. your eyes rolled back as his thrusts were now a bit harder and quicker, desperately trying to get you both to reach your peak as you guys had been gone for a suspicious amount of time.

“fuck fuck fuck- cheol right there!” you whined before your mouth went agape, orgasm washing over you. you were gripping him so tightly seungcheol knew he wouldn’t last much longer either.

seungcheol gave a few deep thrusts before cumming as well, letting your cunt milk him dry.

he let you lay there for a second, allowing your to catch your breath before reminding you that you two needed to leave.

he somewhat kept his word, buying you that same set in every color they had. a dopey smile on his face while the two of you exited the store, his mind occupied with how many positions he’d have you in later tonight <3

#scoups smut #seungcheol smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol hard hours #seventeen smut #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seoktized.svt

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gothcsz · 2 months ago

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Summary: Caught in a charged and unexpected moment with Javier Peña, you struggle between resisting his relentless seduction and giving in to the tension that has been building since the last shoot.

Tags: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, no use of Y/N, reader is shorter than javier but other than that no physical descriptions, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (we're in an elevator this time around), reader really doesn't like javi, steve being steve, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then my ass had to drag it out just a little because their dynamic is very fun to write 😭 he's like whyyy don't you like me and she's like how much time do you have? lmfao. this is dedicated to @auteurdelabre 🖤 #1 pornstar javi stan, i almost submitted this for your trope off but decided to save that honor for my other story! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy javier begging to eat you out 🥂 let me know what you think 🖤 mandatory mutual tags: @almostempty / @miss-oranje-disco-dancer

You sit in the cramped waiting room outside of Robbie’s office, the stale air clinging to your skin as you shift uncomfortably in the worn-out chair. The place is too quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the city outdoors.

You glance at the clock on the wall, anxiety creeping up your spine. You have a shift at the bar in an hour, and time is slipping through your fingers. The laundry, the groceries, the endless list of errands— it all piled up today, and now you’re cutting it too close.

But you need this check. It’s the only reason you’re here, tapping your foot in impatience. If you don’t get it today, the money won’t hit your account in time to cover rent, and you really don’t want another lecture from your landlord. It’s bad enough you’re already behind— no need to give him more ammunition to chew you out.

You sigh and lean back, eyes closing as you try to drown out the frustration swirling in your head. That’s when you hear the unmistakable ding of the elevator down the hall and turn your head to see who’s joining.

Your stomach drops and you sit up straight. No. Not now. The air feels heavier, thick with that familiar irritation, as the slow, deliberate sound of boots against the tile grows louder.

Javier Peña.

Just the thought of him sends a hot wave through your being, a mix of irritation and something else you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t want to think about that last shoot, the one where things shifted. Where shit got weird. You behind the camera, filming as always, while he was balls deep in another woman, claiming you were on his mind.

“Bet you’d look just as pretty like this, nena.”

“Did you like what you saw? Like watching the way I fucked her but was thinking of you the whole time?”

It was like he’d stripped you bare with just a few words, leaving you more exposed than them in the midst of their carnal fucking. And the worst part? You’d been affected by it. Skin on fire, pussy wet. It also didn’t help that Steve had heard it too. The mic catching the flirting, the hitch of your breath getting stuck in your throat, clear as day.

He’d asked you about it later at Lucky’s, as promised, all smug and drinking that God-awful beer. But you’d brushed him off, hoping he’d drop it. Thankfully, he had— for the most part— but you could still feel his restlessness, wanting to stir the pot.

Now, Javier is here, of course, because the universe just loves to mess with you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning back against the chair in defiance. You refuse to look at him. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he gets under your skin.

His footsteps stop just a few feet away, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore. You can feel him looking at you, feel the weight of his brown eyes like a physical thing as they rake over your body.

You keep your gaze glued to the wall, focusing on the ugly, generic painting hanging there like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You gonna act like you don’t see me?” His voice is deep, smooth, and frustratingly cocky, just like always.

You grit your teeth, biting back a response. You won’t give him an inch. Not again. This motherfucker will take a mile.

“Okay, so that’s what we’re doing.” Before you can react, he plops down beside you. You stiffen immediately, moving your crossed knees to the side, angling yourself away from him, as if the few inches of space will protect you from the onslaught of whatever the hell he’s about to say next.

He spreads his thighs wide, his posture screaming obnoxious confidence. You just barely catch a glimpse of his bulge pressing up against his left thigh and how the fuck does it look so big even when he’s soft? “You know,” he says, voice dripping with that lazy, arrogant drawl, “you’re the only woman that treats me like this, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”

You snort, the sound sharp and humorless. You still don’t bother looking at him.

Javier frowns, flitting his tongue across the top row of his teeth. “Is it because I came off too strong the first time we met? ‘Cause if that’s the case; then I’m sorry. Can’t help myself from flirting with pretty little things like you.”

You roll your eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets. He doesn’t sound sincere at all.

Thing is, you didn’t mind the flirting. Even if he, like he’s so romantically put it, does flirt with pretty little things all the time; it did make you feel like just that. Pretty. It’s what came after that soured your Javier Peña experience.

He huffs, like a petulant child, frustrated by your silence. You don’t give him the satisfaction of even a glance. Instead, you shift in your seat, your mind racing, wondering what the hell is taking Robbie so damn long. He never works, barely lifts a finger unless there’s money or something else in it for him, and now, suddenly, he’s busy? Yeah, right. He’s probably in his office jerking it to one of his films, getting off on his own work. Typical.

You’re done waiting. With a sharp movement, you stand, startling Javier, though you still don’t give him the time of day. He’s used to women catering to his every whim, hanging on his every word. You aren’t going to be one of them. Not even if he did manage to get you all hot and bothered.

You stalk over to the door and knock harder than necessary. “I’m busy,” his voice grumbles through the wooden surface, and you resist the urge to scream.

“And I need my check. Just slide it under the door or something,” you snap, the urgency in your voice making it clear that you’re not in the mood to get fucked around with.

There’s a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling papers before the door cracks open just enough for Robbie to stick his hand out, an envelope clutched between his fingers. He practically shoves it into your hand before slamming the door shut again.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the envelope with your name scrawled across the front. Surrounded by imbeciles. Just one shift to get through tonight, and then maybe, just maybe, you can get some peace. Enjoy the first weekend off you’ve had in months.

Now that you have what you came for, you spin on your heel and stride down the hallway, ignoring the handsome pornstar still lounging in the chair behind you. From your peripheral, you can see him sitting there, skinny jean clad legs spread, looking all annoyingly sexy without even trying. It would be so much easier if he were ugly— or literally anyone else. But no, it’s Javier fucking Peña, with his ridiculous good looks and that cocky smirk that could probably charm the panties off half the city if he wanted to (it probably has, to be honest).

You mentally map out the next hour: hit the bank, dash home to change, then off to work. You could walk to the bank, maybe catch a taxi home if you’re lucky. But with traffic in this city, luck isn’t really on your side. You start considering your options— do you skip changing and just head to work as you are? Would your other boss even care if you showed up a little underdressed? You’re so lost in your thoughts, focused on cutting corners to save time, that you don’t hear the quiet footsteps behind you.

It’s not until the elevator dings and you step inside that you realize you’re not alone. Javier’s slipped in just before the doors close, sliding smoothly into the cramped space beside you. The sudden proximity makes your heart do this stupid little jump, and you curse yourself for it. You’re trapped now— stuck way too close to him in the tiny metal box.

The air feels charged, his presence impossible to ignore yet again. The smell of his aftershave hits you first— spicy, with a hint of something woodsy, layered under the scent of his leather jacket and the faint, lingering whiff of cigarette smoke. He tries to drown it out with minty gum, but it’s still there, clinging to him like an old habit. And damn it, your knees go a little weak, despite your best efforts to stay cool.

The height difference between you is glaringly obvious now. You’re eye level with the habitually open portion of his cream colored shirt, the buttons undone just enough to give a peek at his brown chest. It’s frustrating how effortlessly he pulls off the whole rugged look— like he doesn’t even try, but somehow manages to look better than most men who spend hours on it.

You swallow hard, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you can smell him, that you can feel the heat radiating off his body in the tight space. He’s just too close, and the damn elevator isn’t moving fast enough. You’ve got a million things to worry about right now—rent, work, your life— and the last thing you need is to be distracted by him.

But, like always, he’s right there, invading your space, making it impossible to think of anything else.

“What the fuck do you want?” You snap, breaking your vow of silence. You frown up at him, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface as you cross your arms defensively over your chest— a bad move, you realize too late, as the motion only pushes your braless tits together beneath the thin fabric of your tank top.

Predictably, his eyes drop immediately. You curse yourself for not wearing something more substantial. It’s not like I was planning to run into him today, you think to yourself.

“To understand why you hate me so much,” Javier says, his voice low, carrying that annoyingly casual tone, as if this whole conversation is nothing more than a mild inconvenience to him.

Your brows knit together, and a dry laugh slips from your lips before you can stop it. “Well, for starters,” you bite out, “you can’t even look me in the eyes when you ask.”

His gaze snaps up so fast it’s almost comical, his dark eyes locking with yours, defiance flaring there. But there’s something else too— something that makes the air between you even more tense. You hold his stare, daring him to say something, to make this worse for himself. His expression tightens, but you continue before he has a chance to speak. “And I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. You annoy the shit out of me.”

He flinches, just barely, but you catch it. The smallest chink in his armor. You reach around him, your hand brushing against his side as you press the button for the main floor. The contact sends a ripple of awareness through you that you try to ignore. You don’t have time for this— for him.

Javier scowls, his mouth pulling into a frown that mirrors yours, and before you can react, he half-turns and punches a button for a different floor, effectively canceling your request. The elevator jolts, shifting direction.

You groan audibly, exasperation washing over you. “And here you are, proving my point,” you mutter under your breath. Every second you waste in this shitty elevator with him is another second closer to being late for work. Another second closer to not getting everything done that you needed to today. He’s not just in your way—he’s deliberately in your way, and the worst part is, he knows it.

“You don’t like me,” he counters, turning back to face you fully, his tone edging into frustration, “but you never even gave me a chance.” His jaw is set now, his eyes searching yours as if he’s waiting for you to crack, to admit that there’s more to it than just annoyance. Like he wants you to say it’s something else, something deeper.

If you had the luxury of time, you’d lay it all out for him, explain in excruciating detail just why you’ve avoided giving him that chance. How his arrogance grates on you. How his charm, though admittedly effective, feels hollow. How the way he flirts isn’t even the problem—it’s the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t want to admit.

But you don’t have that kind of time.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. “As fun as it’d be to stand here and explain this shit to you like a child,” you say, your voice tight, “I have important things to do, and you’re keeping me from them.” You jab the elevator button again, hoping the damn thing will just go where you need it to without another unnecessary detour, but you already know it’s a losing battle.

Javier shifts closer, just slightly, his presence looming. You can smell that damn aftershave again, all spice and leather and smoke, and it only pisses you off more because your body reacts to it before your brain can stop it. You feel your resolve slipping, just a little. His eyes are on you, unwavering, intense in a way that makes you want to both slap him and pull him closer at the same time.

“I’m not trying to keep you from anything,” he replies, softer now, the edge in his voice gone. His tone is almost... apologetic? No. It can’t be. Javier Peña doesn’t apologize. At least not in any way that feels real.

You don’t even bother responding, just stare at the numbers above the door, willing them to move faster. The sooner you’re out of here, the better.

“Just—fuck, give me something. Anything,” he growls, frustrated as all hell. His eyes are wild, and you can see the cracks in his usual suave demeanor, like he’s barely holding it together. “Ever since that last shoot, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and I don’t know why. You think you’re exasperated? How the fuck do you think I’m feeling over here?”

You raise a brow, leaning into your disdain as you pout at him mockingly. “Oh, boohoo. Cry me a river. A girl doesn’t like me back, wahh.” You mimic the sound of a crying baby, bringing your fists up to rub against your cheeks in the most exaggerated way possible. Then you drop the act, face deadpanning.

His eyes narrow, and you think you’ve finally hit a nerve. Good. Let him stew in it. But instead of backing down, he does something you don’t expect— he turns, reaches out, and slams his palm against the emergency stop button. The elevator lurches to a sudden halt, the hum of motion disappearing as the car freezes between floors.

Your eyes widen, a sharp spike of adrenaline shooting through you as the reality of the situation sets in. “What the hell, Javier?” You’re about to cuss him out, to let him know exactly what kind of shit he’s just gotten himself into, but before the words can leave your mouth, he takes two long, purposeful steps toward you.

Instinctively, you move back, the sudden intensity in his eyes sending warning signals through your brain. But there’s nowhere to go. You can’t escape the tight confines of the elevator, your back is pressed up against the cold metal railing. You swallow hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as his broad body looms over yours, trapping you in a way that leaves you feeling both furious and breathless.

He’s too close. His chest brushes against yours, and you can feel his gaze as it drags over your face, down your neck, and lower still, lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle.

Any insult you were ready to hurl at him gets stuck in your throat. You hate how your pulse quickens, how your breath catches. You can feel every inch of him— solid muscle, tense with whatever storm is brewing behind those dark eyes.

For a brief, dizzying moment, you forget to be mad. You forget that you’re supposed to dislike him, that he’s the last person you should let get under your skin like this but somehow is the only one who’s able to. All you can focus on is the way his breath fans across your cheek, the way the small space between you crackles with tension, like a wire pulled too tight.

“You think this is some kind of joke?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, making your pussy tingle in ways you wish it didn’t. “You think it’s easy for me to just... shrug it off? Because it’s not. Not when I keep thinking about you, and I don’t even fucking understand why.”

There’s something raw in his voice, something that catches you off guard, making you pause to wonder if this really isn’t a game to him.

But you can’t let him see that. You can’t let him know how much he’s getting to you (even though he’s more than aware). So instead, you tilt your chin up defiantly, forcing your voice to stay steady. “And stopping the elevator? Trapping me in here with you? That’s your brilliant solution?”

“No,” he breathes, voice dropping to a near whisper as his face inches closer to yours. “But it’s the only way I could get you to stop running from me.”

You hate how your stomach flips at his words. Hate how much you’re fighting against the instinct to lean into him instead of shoving him away. Every part of your body is screaming at you to tell him to fuck off and leave you the hell alone.

“Do you know what I think it is?” The words come out in a low, dangerous drawl, the kind that seems to wrap around your throat and squeeze. He leans in, crowding your space, eyes boring into you with an intensity that has your pulse skyrocketing. “I think you’re too fucking stubborn to let yourself have any fun. The idea of me fucking you is enticing, isn’t it?” His lips curl into a smirk, the kind that drips with arrogance and dark promises. “Could see it written all over your face that night at the hotel. That look in your eye while I was fucking Lexxie.”

His accusations slam into you, pulling up the exact moment you’ve been trying to bury. It should have been a professional gig, routine even, nothing personal… except that wasn’t the case. Not with the way he looked at you the entire time, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to react.

And, fuck, you had reacted. You felt the heat rise in your face, the way your body betrayed you as you stood behind the camera, mouth salivating, thighs pressing together.

“Javier…” You push at his chest, your hand meeting the hard wall of muscle beneath his shirt. The intent is to shove him back, to create some space between you. But the second your palm makes contact, it’s like the air shifts, and instead of moving him, it’s like you’ve anchored yourself to him.

Goddamn him. Goddamn you for your spineless ass, for not being able to follow through on resisting the temptation that he is.

He smirks wider, clearly reading the war going on behind your eyes. “You were shaking,” he continues, his voice a dark whisper that coils around your insides. “Damn near moaning while you watched me go down on her. Rubbing those thighs together while this pretty ass was in my face as she was sucking my cock.”

His large hand snakes around you, catching you off guard, fingers gripping a handful of your ass and pulling you closer. Your body collides with his, and that’s when you feel it— his erection, hard and insistent, pressing into your stomach. The heat between you flares up to unbearable levels, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, every nerve ending in your body on high alert, buzzing with want.

“You’re delusional,” it’s breathless but you’re still determined to keep some semblance of control. You squirm in his grip, your body betraying your words, the friction making your mind tilt. “You just can’t stand the fact that, for once, a woman isn’t throwing herself at you. That I’m not kissing the ground you walk on or falling to my knees, ready to suck you off.”

His hold tightens briefly, pulling you even closer, and for a second, you wonder if you’ll be able to break free at all. It’s damn near impossible to ignore the ache building between your thighs at this point. But somehow, you manage to slip out of his grip, your body twisting away from his until you’ve backed yourself into the far corner of the elevator.

You can’t breathe. Not properly, anyway. You’ve never felt so on edge, so exposed in such a small space. Every fiber of your being screams at you to keep your distance, to reassert control of the situation, but there’s a part of you— dangerous and impulsive— that wants to step right back into his arms.

Javier doesn’t move, but his eyes stay glued to you, watching your every movement like a predator stalking its prey. The elevator is still locked in place, a silent reminder that you’re trapped here with him until one of you decides to relent. His jaw clenches, and you think he’s going to say something cutting, something to tear you down. But instead, he surprises you.

“You’re right.” His voice is rough, but it carries a weight that’s different from the cocky arrogance he usually hides behind. “I can’t stand it.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavier than you expected. There’s no smirk this time, no sarcastic bite. Just honesty, and it’s a fucking curveball.

You weren’t prepared for him to actually admit it. For once, he’s not trying to fuck with you, not trying to win.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

You swallow hard, the weight of his confession making your heart leap out of your chest.

You don’t know what to say, so instead, you just stand there, staring at him, your body buzzing with a cocktail of adrenaline, lust, and confusion. Because as much as you want to dislike him, as much as you need to dislike him for your own sanity, you can’t deny the way your pussy responds to him. The way your mind keeps pulling you back to that night, to the way he made you feel without even touching you.

“Get over it,” you snap, cutting him off before he can sink any deeper into this conversation. You don’t need to entertain this further. It can’t happen, and it will never happen. The second you fall into bed with him, it’ll be game over. Javier Peña isn’t just a casual fuck— you know deep down he’d be the kind that wraps himself around your soul and doesn’t let go until he’s consumed every inch of you.

The problem is, you’re terrified that you’ll let him. It’s why you’re so dead set on not giving in.

You cross your arms over your chest again, as if trying to shield yourself from the strength in his eyes, the way he seems to reach into your very core with just a look.

You try to focus on anything else— on the fact that you still need to get to the bank, then to your apartment, and finally to your bar shift. You don’t have time for this shit, for the endless back-and-forth with him.

But then he says your name.

The sound of it on his lips makes you close your eyes, every muscle in your body tensing. Damn him. It sounds so fucking sweet, almost reverent, and you know if you make the mistake of looking at him right now— if you see those beautiful, pleading brown eyes— you’ll fold.

He says your name again, softer this time, and the way his voice wraps around each syllable has your resolve teetering on the edge of collapse. “Please, just let me show you how good I can make you feel,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath fanning across your cheek. “Just one taste, nena, por favor.”

And for the first time since you met Javier— he’s begging. You never imagined that he, of all people, would beg for anything. But here he is, his voice low and thick with desire, pleading with you to give him just one chance.

You blink your eyes open slowly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that have been ignited by his words. The synapses in your brain light up like fucking fireworks, each one triggering a new thought, a new possibility. There’s a moment— a split second— where you picture it.

You imagine his hands on your body, his lips trailing fire down your skin, his mouth between your legs. The image flashes so vividly, so intensely in your mind, that it steals the breath from your lungs.

You can practically feel the way he’d elicit things you’ve been trying to suppress. Your legs go weak just thinking about it, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself, to remember who you are, what this is.

But your cavewoman, horny brain betrays you— racing ahead, picturing every possible outcome. You can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to let him in, just once. How it would be to let him take control, to let him show you, like he’s promising, just how good he can make you feel.

You’re already late getting to the bank. You should be focusing on that, on getting out of this damn elevator and away from him, but your body won’t cooperate. Every part of you is ablaze, screaming at you to just give in.

Javier’s standing there, staring at you with those chocolate eyes, his dark brows drawn together, pouty lips parted just slightly as he waits for you to say something. Anything. He’s laid it all out in front of you, leaving you to make the next move. And fuck, as much as you hate to admit it, you want to. You want to let him pull you into his world, even though you know it’ll consume you. You want to feel his hands on your skin, his mouth everywhere, his name slipping from your lips.

But you can’t.

If you give in now, you’ll never be able to walk away from him, and you can’t afford to let yourself get tangled up in Javier Peña. He’s chaos wrapped in temptation, and once you let him in, there’s no turning back.

You swallow hard, your throat tight as you try to hold on to the last shred of control you have. “Javier,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering between desire and self-preservation. The weight of his gaze presses down on you, and for a moment, you think you might just jump.

But then, with every ounce of willpower you have left, you take a shaky breath, shaking your head and breaking the spell he’s woven around you.

“No,” you say, the word barely above a whisper, but firm enough to anchor you back to reality.

His face falls, the fire in his eyes dimming just a little. You almost regret it, almost, but then you remember who he is. What he does. And you know you made the right choice, even if every part of you is berating otherwise.

You stand there, locked in a silent standoff, both of you doing a piss poor job of pretending like you don’t want to tear each other’s clothes off right here in the elevator.

You’re hoping—no, praying— that he’ll finally let it go. That he’ll stop pushing, stop testing your resolve, and just leave you alone. You’re begging for him to go back to what he does best, to leave you to your job— both of them.

You break eye contact first, glancing down at your watch. You’re definitely not going to make it to your shift on time. Shit. You need to phone your boss and give him a heads up before this gets even worse. But right now, you can’t seem to focus, not with Javier standing there like a Roman statue, immovable and perfect, watching you with that infuriating intensity.

“Now, if you can get the elevator to take us down, I’d really appreciate it,” you say, but the words come out softer than you intended. You hate how small your voice sounds, like you’ve already lost the upper hand, and you mentally slap yourself for it.

But he doesn’t budge. He just stands there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and it makes you want to scream. His gaze is piercing, boring holes into your entire existence, and it’s taking everything you have not to crumble beneath it.

“Do you really mean that?” He asks as he brings a hand up to smooth down his mustache. There’s a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips, like he already knows the answer. “Because everything about your body language is screaming otherwise.”

When the fuck did he get so close again? He’s right there, towering over you, and suddenly the air between you feels impossibly thin.

“It’s my fuckin’ job to read a woman’s body,” he continues, his voice growing huskier with each word. “And you know what yours is telling me right now?”

Your pulse quickens, your heart slamming against your ribcage, and you can’t find the words to respond. You don’t trust yourself to speak— not when his presence is drowning you in your own body.

He leans in, lips so close to your ear that his breath almost has you fainting. “It’s telling me that you want it.”

Your stomach flips, every nerve ending in your body coming alive as his curved nose barely grazes your skin. The touch is featherlight, but it sends electricity straight to your cunt. You grip the railing behind you like a lifeline, your knuckles flushed as goosebumps ripple across your skin.

Javier’s smirk deepens, the asshole clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Stop fighting it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, his hand sliding down the length of your figure in a way that feels too natural, too right. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel…”

You should stop him. You should. But you don’t. You can’t. His hands are on you now, moving with a confidence that’s impossible to resist. One large hand finds its way to your tit, groping it gently through the thin fabric of your tank top, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips before you can stop it. Your body fails you, head falling back against the elevator wall, your chest arching into his touch.

The way his hand moves, so sure, so practiced, has your resistance crumbling, piece by piece.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your neck, peppering soft, teasing kisses along your sensitive skin. “Barely done a thing and you’re already gone.”

Your mind is spinning, your resolve completely undone as you melt under his touch. Every kiss, every graze of his lips against your neck feels like it’s unraveling the last bit of control you have. His body is pressed up against yours, and you can feel his erection through his jeans again, the hard (pun intended) evidence of just how much he wants you.

God help you, it feels too good to resist.

You sigh, a low, breathy sound that’s equal parts surrender and relief. His lips trail lower, his hand still groping your breast, and you let him. You let him because you’ve been fighting this for too long, and right now, you just want to feel something.

Javier grins against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he pulls you even closer, his voice hoarse in your ear. “Told you,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “I knew you wanted this.”

You don’t respond. There’s nothing left to say. You’ve given in, you’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces later, but right now? Right now, you’re letting yourself fall apart.

It’s like your whole body just deflates against his, sinking into the solid warmth of him as if all the fight has finally drained out of you. You’re giving him the green light, and he knows it. The grunt that escapes his throat is guttural, and you feel the weight of his palm pressing harder against your chest, his thumb and pointer finger expertly pinching your now hardened nipple through the fabric of your tank top.

“After this,” he murmurs, voice rough with restraint, “if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone.” His words are punctuated by a sharp tug at your nipple that sends a surge of arousal straight between your legs. Then his hand moves, sliding up to cradle your jaw with a surprising gentleness. He tilts your head so that your eyes meet his, forcing you to look at him— forcing you to really see him. “You have my word.”

You search his eyes, not entirely sure what you’re looking for— honesty, maybe? A hint of something real beyond the heat of the moment? Whatever it is, you can’t find the words to respond, so you just nod weakly, your breath bated.

Javier smiles at that, a slow, predatory grin, and he leans in as if to kiss you. But you stop him, your hand pressing against his sternum with just enough force to halt him in his tracks.

“No kissing,” you say, your voice more resolute than you feel. “You said one taste, so get to it.” You’re setting boundaries, trying to keep some semblance of control in this situation. No kissing, no fucking— just head. That’s all this will be. He’ll get a taste of you, and you’ll finally get a taste of what all the hype is about. Then it’ll be over, and you’ll go your separate ways. That’s the deal.

His frown deepens, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features, like he’s not used to anyone telling him no in any capacity. But it’s brief, because he’s not about to take the proverbial bone you’ve thrown him for granted. He agrees in his own way, pivoting without protest, his mouth returning to your neck like he’s already forgotten the attempt to kiss you.

Now that the rules are clear, you allow yourself to let your guard down— just a little. It’s not like your sex life has been riveting lately, and truth be told, you can’t even remember the last time a partner went down on you willingly. At least you’re getting something out of this fucked-up little arrangement, and for now, that’s enough.

He kisses and licks a line down your throat, his stubble scraping deliciously against the sensitive flesh. You sigh, your breath hitching as you feel his hands roaming your body with a confidence that should piss you off but doesn’t.

His rough palms map out your curves like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. He’s groping, squeezing, learning you in a way that makes you feel like you’re his personal discovery.

The warmth of his breath, the skill in his movements— it’s intoxicating. You can’t help but respond, your hips shifting, your body bending instinctively toward him when one hand slides up under your shirt, fingertips brushing the underside of your breast.

He’s good at this, you’ll give him that. Too damn good. It’s almost like he’s a fucking pornstar.

You hate that you’re enjoying it so much, hate that you’re already melting under his touch like some lovesick fool.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmurs against your skin, feeling the nerves radiating off of you.

His touch lingers as he reaches the button on your denim shorts, undoing it with a flick of his fingers before pulling down the zipper, slow and deliberate.

“You and these damn shorts…” you hear him say, more to himself than to you. His voice is gruff, frustrated, like he’s been waging a silent battle against his own restraint. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down over your hips, watching as the fabric slides off your skin. You step out of them, standing there in nothing but your underwear, top and sneakers, exposed in ways you hadn’t intended to be when you walked into that office earlier today.

His brows shoot up, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Of course, it’s laundry day. Of course, you’re left wearing your least practical pair of underwear— this skimpy, lacy purple number you hardly ever break out. The delicate string disappears between the cheeks of your ass, and the sheer front does little to conceal the soft tuft of hair just below your navel.

And he’s drinking it all in.

“Fuckin’ hell, nena,” he breathes, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and lust. His eyes flick back up to yours, dark and hungry. “You always walkin’ around like this?” His hands grip your hips, and before you can even formulate a response, he’s sinking to his knees in front of you, taking his sweet ass time, like this is some kind of worship.

“No, I—” Your voice is breathy, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “I had to do laundry today…” It’s all you can manage, barely coherent as his lips begin pressing soft, teasing kisses to the inside of your knee.

He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, steadying you, his fingers gripping your thigh with enough pressure to leave you keening. You brace yourself against the elevator railing, your body tense with anticipation, your mind a chaotic swirl of logic and lust. You barely notice as the check you came here for flutters to the floor beside you, forgotten.

Don’t forget to deposit that, the reasonable part of your brain chimes in, but you tell that bitch to shut up because Javier Peña is currently on his knees in font of you, about to take you on the ride of your fucking life, and you’re nowhere near strapped in.

His head is tilted up, lips brushing dangerously close to where you want him most, and all rational thought is slipping through your fingers like sand.

He looks up at you then, his dark eyes glinting with something wicked, and your breath catches again. You don’t know how to feel about any of this anymore. There’s a line you swore you wouldn’t cross, but now that he’s right there, so close to giving you what you’ve craved for longer than you care to admit, it’s hard to remember why you drew that line in the first place.

Javier’s lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and a quiet moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks against your skin, his fingers tracing a slow path up your leg, sending shivers coursing through you. “Relax, bonita,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “I’ll take care of you.”

You want to tell him to hurry up, to stop teasing, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale as his hands part your thighs wider, positioning you exactly how he wants you. His grip is firm, possessive, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll survive whatever it is he’s about to do to you.

You don’t even have time to dwell on the thought before his mouth is on you, lips pressing a lingering kiss over the thin fabric of your panties. The sudden pressure sends a shockwave through your body, and your eyes fall closed, surrendering to the moment. His tongue teases the fabric, nudging against your already soaked cunt, and you can feel the wetness seeping through the lace. He hums low in his throat, savoring the first taste of you.

“These are so pretty. Don’t think I’ll take ’em off.”

He hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric and pulls it aside, exposing you to him completely. The cool air hits your slick folds, a contrast to the heat of his breath as he hovers just inches away. He’s staring, taking you in, and when he curses under his breath, it’s like he’s caught off guard by how badly he wants this. Wants you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, as he drags his nose up and down the length of your wet slit. The touch is maddeningly light, just enough to make you clench involuntarily, your body reacting without permission. More of your slick leaks out of your pussy, a response to the subtle stimulation, and you grip the elevator railing tighter to keep yourself from falling with how weak your knees get.

Javier flattens his tongue, delivering a slow, deliberate lick from your entrance to your clit, and it’s like your entire body ignites at once. You throw your head back, a ragged cry of his name ripping from your throat as your hips buck instinctively, searching for more of him, more of that friction that feels like pure electricity.

He’s not done, though. Not even close. One hand snakes around your thighs, strong and sure. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open, forming an upside-down V, and then he does something so filthy, so perfectly Javier— he spits directly onto your exposed pussy.

The sound alone could get you off, but the sensation is something else entirely. His saliva mixes with your slick, making everything wetter, hotter, and you feel like you’re unraveling before he’s even truly begun. A series of high-pitched moans spill from your lips as he latches his mouth onto your cunt, sucking and licking with a precision that has your entire being quaking.

Lips, tongue, teeth—he’s using everything he has, dragging you deeper into a haze of pleasure where nothing exists but the heat coiling in your belly, tightening with every flick. He’s devouring you, utterly relentless, and it’s too much but not enough, all at once. Every nerve ending is on fire, your thighs trembling as you fight to keep your balance. His grip on your leg tightens, keeping you locked in place, helpless to do anything but take what he’s giving.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling back for just a moment, leaning his cheek against your inner thigh. His face is glistening, covered in your arousal, but his eyes are dark and hungry, never straying from your face. “With noises like that and a pussy this pretty— you’d be a fucking sight on camera.”

His words send another jolt through you, dirty and wrong and so fucking hot that you nearly forget how to breathe. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving faint marks in his wake, before diving back in with that skilled tongue of his. He’s a man with something to prove, alternating between broad strokes and tight circles, zeroing in on your fleshy clit with a precision that makes your head spin.

It’s obscene, the way he’s working you over, all these years spent perfecting this art, but there’s a rawness to it too, a desperation like he can’t get enough of you. You’re soaked, dripping onto his face, and he laps it up like a man starved, the sounds of his mouth slurping against your wetness filling the small space around you. Your moans are louder now, more desperate, each one pushing you closer to that edge where you’re not sure if you’ll survive the fall.

His fingers tighten on your thigh again, and then he’s dragging them lower, inching toward your entrance as his tongue flicks mercilessly against your clit. When he slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you nearly scream. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is enough to send you spiraling, your legs trembling uncontrollably as you arch into him.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunts when he pulls away to get a good look at your beautiful face and how you look when he’s making you feel like you’re on top of the world. It’s enough to get him to latch onto your clit, sucking on it harshly.

“God, Javier,” you gasp, your voice shaky, barely coherent. You can’t think, can’t form any rational thought, not with the way he’s pulling you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the pleasure.

“Let go,” he growls against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your core. “I’ve got you, nena. Just let go.”

And with that, the dam breaks. You’re coming hard, hips jerking wildly as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body shaking with the force of it. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up for a second, working you through it with that relentless mouth until you’re gasping for air, hands clenching at the railing so hard you’re surprised it hasn’t snapped.

Your vision blurs, your mind goes blank, and all you can do is hold on as Javier takes you on the ride of your life, just like you knew he would.

You don’t know how long it takes you to come back into your body after letting him take the reins for a little. You’re trembling, legs weak and body heavy against the cool metal wall of the elevator. He’s still on his knees, knuckle-deep inside you, lazily curling them as if savoring every last second.

His mouth trails soft, teasing kisses across your soaked panties, and the tenderness of the act startles you, nearly pulling you under again. But then he withdraws his fingers, slipping them into his mouth with an almost obscene groan, tasting you one last time as if to commit your flavor to memory. He carefully adjusts your underwear back into place.

Javier stands to his full height, your leg falling from his shoulder, towering over you. His hand comes to rest lightly on your waist as if to steady you. “You okay?”

You nod, though your bones feel like jelly. Your eyes stay closed as you try to gather yourself, forcing yourself back into reality, back into the woman who doesn’t fold like a house of cards for her co-worker. You bend down to retrieve your shorts and check from the floor, fingers fumbling with the zipper as you button yourself back up. He presses the button to resume the elevator, the gears shifting as you’re slowly carried back to the main floor.

And just like that, it hits you. It happened. You’ve came on Javier’s tongue and fingers. You swore it wouldn’t— swore up and down that he was nothing more than a nuisance at work, a distraction you wouldn’t let get to you. But here you are, post-orgasm, in a goddamn public elevator, of all places, with the man who was supposed to be just a headache.

“Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again,” you mutter, trying to summon the biting edge to your words, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him.

Javier just smirks, that infuriating glint back in his eyes like he already knows better, but he doesn’t push it. Not now.

The elevator doors slide open with a sharp ding, and the scene before you is worse than any nightmare you could’ve concocted in the heat of the moment. Two firefighters, the building manager, and— of course because why the hell not— Steve Murphy are standing there with varying degrees of shock and amusement.

You can see the moment Steve takes it all in— your flushed cheeks, the slightly mussed state of your clothes, Javier standing just a bit too close to you. His blue eyes narrow, then widen, and then he breaks into a shit-eating grin so wide you could slap it right off his face.

“Well, well, well,” Steve drawls, barely containing his laughter. “What do we have here?”

Your stomach sinks. Not again.

Javier, ever the cocky bastard, simply raises an eyebrow and slides his hands into his pockets, all cool nonchalance like he hasn’t just been between your thighs minutes earlier. “Just crapped out on us randomly,” he says smoothly, and you want to strangle him for the audacity.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head as if he’s in on some big joke that only you and Javier are the punchline for. And as you step past him, cheeks burning, all you can think is that this will never, ever happen again.

But even as you repeat it to yourself, a small part of you— the part still buzzing from the memory of Javier’s mouth— wonders if you’re lying.

#javier pena smut #javier peña smut #pedro pascal #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #javier peña narcos #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal smut

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itneverendshere · 2 months ago

Note

reader maybe having a dad, like jj’s? very manipulative and controlling, sometimes it’s physical. and he comes out unexpected while rafes there

okay so i was planning to write off her parents as dead but this made me change my mind a little, hope you enjoy <3

wash the sins out of that house - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The sound of cartoons played low in the background, mixing with the faint clink of a fork against a plate.

Rafe leaned back against the worn-out couch in your sister’s living room, watching as you flipped pancakes at the kitchen counter. Your sister’s kid, Milo, was glued to your leg, like always, babbling about some superhero show. The smell of breakfast filled the house, making it feel more like home than his own ever did.

Every little thing you did just made him fall more, if that was possible. He was always looking at you like that, like you were some kind of miracle.

It wasn’t just how good you were with Milo or how much you cared about everything and everyone. It was how much weight you carried without ever complaining, how you made everything seem easy even when he knew it wasn’t. You’d been staying here ever since the storm ripped through your house a few months back.

Your sister was cool. Single mom, strong like you, but in a quieter way. She worked double shifts, and left you to help with Milo most of the time. Not that you ever complained, even after the long shifts, you loved to babysit. You were used to this shit—being the rock. Probably why you hadn’t freaked out when your house got leveled. You just rolled with it, found a place with your sister, and moved on like it was no big deal.

He’d been staying over more and more, crashing on the couch when he was too tired to drive back to Tannyhill. At first, it was just because he wanted to be near you when you couldn’t sleep over at his. But now… it felt like more. Like he could see himself living with you right away.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring like an idiot. “You good?”

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, leaning forward. “You need help or something?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped another pancake. “You? In the kitchen? That’s rich, baby.”

“Hey, you never complain about my pancakes.” He shot you a grin, but it faded when Milo tugged at your shirt, asking something in that tiny voice of his.

You crouched down, your voice soft as you reassured him, “Mommy will be back soon, okay? Just a couple more hours.”

You looked so at ease like you’d been raising kids your whole life. It did something to him—watching you like that. This tough, independent woman who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, just… melting when you talked to Milo.

Rafe swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. Every time he tried to picture your future together, it got fuzzy. Not because he didn’t want one. He already told you he did. But because he wasn’t sure if he deserved one with you. His life had been a mess half the time.

He’d hurt people. Done things.

But when he was around you, he didn’t feel like that entitled spoiled guy anymore. He felt like someone who could be better. For you.

The front door slammed open, and immediately, something was off. Rafe’s eyes shot from Milo’s cartoons to the guy who’d just staggered in. He could smell the booze before he even saw his face.

Who the hell?

You froze. The spatula in your hand hung mid-air as you stared at this man like you’d seen a ghost. But this wasn’t a ghost. This guy was real, and from the way he was swaying on his feet, he was about to make himself a problem.

“Some fucking daughters y’all are,” the guy slurred, his voice rough and soaked in alcohol. “Not inviting your old man over while he’s in town.”

Your dad? That was your dad?

Rafe’s mind spun. You never talked about your parents and he’d never asked because he wasn’t stupid. He could tell it was a touchy subject, just like his own dad was sometimes, so he never brought it up. He assumed they were gone and you only had your sister. He never imagined this.

Not once had you mentioned your dad. And now here he was, stumbling through the door like he owned the place.

Rafe shot up from the couch, every muscle in his body tightening. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in here like that? You didn’t say anything right away, but your whole posture changed—your back straight, your pretty face like stone. You looked like you were bracing for something, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“Dad,” you said, flat and cold. “What are you doing here?”

He gave this ugly laugh, a mix of drunk and mean. “What, can’t a father check in on his daughters? Or are you too good for your family now?”

You didn’t even flinch. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there, still as a statue, while Milo clung to your leg, eyes wide, just as confused as Rafe felt.

Rafe stepped forward, putting himself between him and you. He didn’t care if this guy was your dad. He was drunk, stumbling, and saying things no father should be saying to his kid.

“Who the hell are you?” Her dad’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing, like he was sizing me up. “Rich boy? Boyfriend?”

He squared his shoulders, staring him down. “Rafe.”

“Rafe,” he repeated, laughing like it was some kind of joke. “Of course. She’d find herself a rich boyfriend. Always looking for the easy way out, huh?”

He had some fucking nerve walking in here, talking to you like that. Like Rafe was ever going to let someone run you down. He didn’t know anything about your relationship with your parents, but from the look in your eyes and the way you were gripping the edge of the counter, he was starting to get the picture. This wasn’t the first time your dad pulled something like this, clearly.

You grabbed his arm before he could take another step. “Rafe, don’t.”

Your voice was low, almost pleading. Not because you were scared, but because this was deeper than just a drunk guy running his mouth. This was something you’d been dealing with for years, and your boyfriend was just now getting a front-row seat.

Your dad sneered at you. “That’s right. Tell your little boyfriend to back off. You’re not so tough now, are ya? Always thinking you’re better than me. Always looking after your sister’s kid like you’re some kind of hero. But you’re not. You’re just like your mother. Weak.”

That’s when Rafe felt it. That surge of anger, that need to hit something.

No one talked to you ike that. No one.

He could feel his fists clench, chest tightening. He was ready to throw your dad out himself. But your hand tightened on his arm, and he looked at you. Really looked at you. You seemed tired, like you’d been through this a thousand times before, and you didn’t need him to step in. Not right now.

“Let him go,” you said quietly. “He’ll leave when he’s done.”

Rafe didn’t want to back off. Every instinct in him was screaming to throw this piece of shit out on his ass. But something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him, made him stop. You weren’t asking for help. You were asking him to let it go. For now.

He swallowed the anger and stepped back, though he kept myself between you and your dad. He wasn’t leaving you alone with this guy, no way in hell.

Your dad’s sneer didn’t falter. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He swayed a bit before heading for the door, muttering under his breath. “Ungrateful little—"

The door slammed behind him, leaving the room dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made you realize just how loud things were a minute ago.

You exhaled slowly, like you’d been holding your breath the whole time. You turned back to the counter, flipping the pancake like nothing happened. But Rafe could see the way your hands shook just a little.

He stood there for a second, still running through everything that just went down. He’d never seen you like that before. And he didn’t like what he saw.

“Baby,” he said quietly, stepping closer.

You didn’t look at him. “He does that sometimes. Shows up, drunk, says whatever he feels like saying. Then he leaves. Same thing for as long as I can remember.”

Rafe didn’t know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was your life. You’d been dealing with that guy for who knows how long, and you never said a word about it.

“That’s not okay,” he said finally, his voice rough. “That’s not normal.”

You sighed, finally turning to face him. “Yeah, well. Now you met the whole family.”

You didn’t know what else to say.

There wasn’t much to say. This was just how things were for you. Your dad was a mess, and you’d learned to deal with it, ignore it even. There was no fixing this. Not really. At this point, it didn't affect you or your daily life that much.

“I should’ve asked,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “About your family, I mean.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all. “I wouldn’t have told you,” I admitted. “Probably would’ve said he’s dead.”

You didn’t want to be that girl—the one with family baggage so heavy it crushed everything good in your life. You didn’t want Rafe looking at you like I were fragile or damaged. It was bad enough that you were as broke as it got. You’d just gotten used to him wanting to help, to be a little less independent, to let him take care of you and spoil you every once in a while.

This though? You never wanted him to find out.

But now… he knew. He knew what you came from. And you couldn’t hide it anymore.

“I don’t care,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. Like he was trying to convince you and himself at the same time. “I don’t care about your dad. I care about you.”

You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your focus on the pancakes, the routine keeping you distracted. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

“I just… I didn’t want you to see that,” You finally admitted, your voice small and raw in a way you hated. “I didn’t want you to know how messed up everything is.”

Rafe moved closer, his body warmth seeping into your side as he leaned against the counter next to you. He didn’t try to touch you, though, and you were grateful for that. You weren’t ready for that.

Not yet.

“Messed up? Baby, have you met me?” He let out this soft, disbelieving laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it.

You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. And there it was—that soft, almost sad look he got sometimes when he thought about his family. About how his mom left and how his dad never really let him in. Ward Cameron was friendly enough with you, and he wasn’t a complete asshole to his son, but he was absent, not really caring about keeping a constant connection with his kids. It hit you then that maybe you two weren’t so different after all.

Maybe that’s why you worked.

But still, the shame stayed. The feeling that now that he really knew you, the ugly parts you kept hidden, he might not stick around. Guys like him didn’t stick with girls like you, right? Despite him doing the exact opposite until know.

“This changes nothing, okay?” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying not to spook me. “Not with me.”

He wasn’t looking at you like he was about to leave. His eyes were steady, clear. He didn’t look freaked out or like he regretted being here. He just looked… real. Like he meant every word.

“This is a mess, Rafe. You saw it.”

“I don’t care,” he said, like he needed you to hear him. “I don’t care about any of that. None of it changes how I feel about you. I love you.”

You bit your lip, turning your attention back to the pancakes because if you didn’t, you were afraid you might cry. You weren’t the crying type, but after everything, your dad showing up like that, and Rafe not running for the door—it was a lot. Too much, maybe.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix anything,” you said softly, flipping the last pancake and turning off the stove. “You can’t fix my dad or the way things are. I don’t want you to try.”

“I’m not trying to fix anything,” Rafe said, stepping closer to you now. “I’m just… I’m here. With you. That’s all I want.”

You felt his hand brush against yours, hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if you were ready to be touched. But when you didn’t pull away, his fingers laced through yours, and the warmth of it broke through the dread thad settled over you since your dad walked in.

Finally, you turned to face him, and there it was—that look in his eyes again. The one that said you were more than enough, that he saw you, really saw you, and wasn’t running for the hills. You knew him like the plam of your hand now, and he wasn’t bluffing. He never lied to you.

Your heart did this weird thing, like it flipped and dropped all at once. It was still a little scary to hear him say that. Scary because it meant he was sticking around, and as much as you it scared that was exactly what you wanted. For him to stay.

Because you loved him just as much, and you didn’t mind reminding him every day.

Milo broke the silence, tugging at your shirt again. “Is time f’pancakes now?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his voice, the way he had no idea what had just gone down. You bent down to scoop him up, holding him close, the warmth of his growing body keeping you sane in the moment.

“Yeah, buddy,” you said softly. “It’s time for pancakes.”

Rafe watched you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This is why he knew you’d be a good mom one day. He kept that thought in the back of his mind every day since you gave him the bracelet on his wrist.

The way you picked up Milo and smiled—it calmed him down. The whole scene was so you—taking care of things, keeping it together even when everything around you was a mess.

“Eat up, kiddo,” you said, ruffling his hair as he dug in with way too much syrup.

Then you glanced at Rafe again, your smile still lingering but more reserved, like you were still processing everything.

Milo was halfway through his second pancake, syrup smeared all over his little face, when he looked up at Rafe with those wide, innocent eyes.

“Hey, Rafey, we go park after?”

You were clearing the plates from the counter, and Rafe caught the quick glance you shot his way. You had a shift starting in an hour, and Milo probably knew it too, even if he wasn’t saying it.

He leaned back in his chair, wiping a bit of syrup off Milo’s cheek with the corner of a napkin. “The park, huh? What’re you thinking, swings? Slide?”

Milo grinned, syrup dripping down his chin. “Both! And the big jungle gym! You said I was big enough for it now, 'member?”

He laughed, remembering the time a couple weeks back when Milo had looked at that massive jungle gym like it was Mount Everest, and Rafe told him he was totally ready to conquer it. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

You shot him a look as you grabbed your bag, ready to head out for your shift. “You sure about this?” you asked.

Rafe waved it off. “Yeah, no problem. Milo and I got this.” He grinned at the kid. “We’re gonna hit the park and maybe even stop for some ice cream after if your mom’s cool with it.”

Milo’s face lit up like Christmas morning, and you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re spoiling him, baby.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but deep down he liked how easy it felt, like this was where he was supposed to be. “Eh, he deserves it.”

You walked over to where Rafe was still leaning against the counter, and without overthinking it, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Ewwww!” Milo groaned dramatically, scrunching up his face like he just witnessed the grossest thing ever. “Why do you always gotta kiss him like that?”

You and Rafe both burst out laughing, and Rafe shook his head, ruffling Milo’s hair. “Get used to it, bud,” he said, still smirking. “She’s gonna keep doing that.”

“Not in front of me,” Milo said, still looking completely disgusted but clearly loving the attention. “It’s so gross!”

You grinned and gave Rafe a playful tap on the chest. “Guess we’ll have to start sneaking around now.”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you in for another quick peck. “I can live with that.”

Milo let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically slapping his hands over his eyes. “Ugh! I’m never getting a girlfriend if that’s what you have to do.”

“Good,” you said, shooting him a wink. “No girlfriends until you’re thirty.”

Rafe laughed again, and Milo just sighed, completely over it. “Can we just go to the park now? Please?”

You shook your head, smiling at how easily the moment turned light again. “You two have fun. I’ll see you later.”

You headed out the door, the sound of your nephew still groaning in the background making you smile as you went, promising yourself you’d answer whatever questions Rafe had about your parents, the second you two snuggled up in his bed at night.

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zegrasdrysdale · 2 months ago

Text

[ take a seat ] q. hughes

day 3 of kinktober (face sitting w/ quinn hughes)

paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Quinn grows a playoff beard and his girlfriend loves it. the day he decides to shave it after the Canucks get eliminated, she tells him how she really feels about it and Quinn gives her the moment she’s been wanting since he started growing it before he shaves it

warning(s) : smut ! face sitting / riding, oral (f receiving), fingering

author’s note : been waiting to write this one hehe. it’s on the shorter side but i hope y'all enjoy anyway

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

The playoffs have treated her and Quinn so well. Quinn because he got to captain the Canucks to the second round after a short 3 year playoff drought. Her because Quinn grew a playoff beard over the past month or so and she's barely managed to keep her hands off of him while he was playing.

She loves everything about the playoffs, but especially the fact that Quinn hasn’t shaved in a few weeks. He looks so good with longer facial hair and she loves the way it tickles her lip when he kisses her. She kinda just wants him to go down on her for as long as possible to feel it against her core.

The thought of Quinn eating her out with the beard is enough to soak her. The feeling of his beard on her core is something she thinks about an unhealthy number of times over the course of three weeks. She’s gotten off multiple times just at the thought alone, especially when he's away playing in Nashville and Edmonton. She’s wouldn’t know what to do if it happened.

But the Canucks were eliminated by Edmonton last night so it’s time for Quinn to shave off the beard he has spent the past few weeks growing. He doesn't do it the day after their season ends because he wants to just lay around and have the laziest day ever, so she gets an extra day to admire him.

The morning of the day Quinn wants to shave his beard though, she wakes up before he does. He stopped setting alarms once the Canucks got eliminated two nights ago but she is naturally an early riser. She doesn't dare move because part of Quinn's morning routine is shaving. If she moves and wakes him up, he's going to go shave and that's the last thing she wants right now.

She softly sighs as morning Vancouver sun creates a muted orange glow throughout the room. Quinn already looks so good and he's not even awake yet.

All because of that stupid beard he grew.

Quinn begins to stir moments after she wakes. His eyes flutter open and look bright in the morning sunlight.

"It's creepy to stare at people while they sleep, baby," he tells her, his voice slurred since he just woke up. Also kind of raspy, which she loves.

"Not my fault you look pretty all the time," she replies. "I also just woke up a few minutes ago so give me a break. I wanted to admire my boyfriend before he woke up and started making comments that ruined the whole vibe."

He groans and rubs his face. He touches his facial hair and hums. "I gotta go get rid of this mess," he says. "Then you can admire me all you want, okay?"

Her eyes widen and Quinn begins to move to get out of bed. She quickly grabs his arm to stop him from getting any further.

"I like that mess," she finally admits to him. He turns back around and looks at her. She begins to talk before her brain can catch up to what she's saying. "I mean, you look really hot with that mess on your face. Except, I don't think it's a mess. I wish you wouldn't run off and shave it first chance you get."

Quinn blinks at her slowly like he's processing what she said to him. A smile grows on his lips and she presses her lips into a line.

"Come here," Quinn tells her as he lays back down. She blinks at him, confused. "I know you've thought about it. I've seen the way that you would look at me then excuse yourself to go use the bathroom." She feels her face get hot in embarrassment. She thought she was more subtle than she actually was.

She plays with her fingers while she watches Quinn get comfortable. "Quinn, I-"

"Come take a seat, pretty girl," he interrupts as he runs his fingers over his beard. "Sit on and ride my face. I know you want to so I am giving you what you want before I go shave."

Who is she to say no to him? He's offering so she might as well take it.

Without anymore hesitation, she moves so she's kneeling above his face with her knees on the pillow on either side of his head. Lucky for her, she's only wearing one of Quinn's Canucks t-shirts and a pair of underwear. Nothing else.

Quinn kisses the inside of her thigh right by her core while he pushes the fabric of the t-shirt up. She hums softly as her body finally begins to wake up. She feels the gentle scratch of his facial hair on her skin and she gnaws on her bottom lip. "Oh my God," she sighs.

"I haven't even done anything yet," Quinn laughs.

"Shut up and do something then," she retorts. "Please, Quinn." She's not above begging at this point.

He licks a stripe over her panties, which are soaked by now. Like she said, the thought alone makes her drip. His finger follows his tongue and she hums. Quinn pushes the fabric to the side and runs a finger through her soaked folds. She bites down on her bottom lip to keep from making any loud noises since it is morning and their neighbors are probably still sleeping.

She grabs onto the headboard above Quinn's head as he runs his tongue through her folds. "Fuck, Quinn!" She cries out. "Oh my God."

The feeling of the gentle scratch of his facial hair is almost too much for her. Quinn wraps his lips around her clit and hums, sending a shock through her body. It almost jumpstarts her own movements as she begins to roll her hips.

"That's it, baby," Quinn says against her core. "Take what you want."

His hands rest on her waist and he pulls her down so she's completely sitting on his face but he's still able to breathe. His tongue continues to run through her folds as she rolls her hips. Her core grinds across his face and she feels the scratch of his facial hair with each movement. She welcomes the new feeling. It only adds to her pleasure despite the beard burn she'll probably have when all this is over.

Quinn hums every so often, and she groans with every hum. Her grip on the headboard gets stronger the longer she moves. She's almost afraid that she'll lose her balance despite his hands keeping her from falling.

One of his hands slides up under the loose t-shirt and cups her breast. She throws her head back and lets out a borderline pornographic moan as she continues to ride Quinn's face. One of her hands flies to Quinn's messy hair, fingers finding a home.

He slides his other hand so his thumb can access her clit. He rubs the sensitive nub while continuing to run his tongue though her folds with each movement. "Oh my fucking- Quinn," she cries out. "Holy-"

"Look so pretty riding my face, pretty girl," Quinn mumbles. His words shoot straight to her core. "Fuck."

His thumb moves and slides into her. She gasps and her movement falters for a second while she recovers from the addition. "Quinn," she groans, holding the 'N' sound.

Between his tongue, his thumb, and his facial hair, she's not sure how she hasn't come all over his face by now. Her legs are shaking so she has to stop moving, but Quinn completely takes over despite being under her.

He speeds up his thumb for a second before switching fingers, using his pointer and middle fingers instead. She welcomes the familiar stretch.

His fingers and tongue are enough to bring her to the edge. She's white-knuckling the headboard with one hand while her other hand remains in Quinn's hair.

"Gonna come," she pants. "Quinn. I'm close."

"Told you to take what you want," Quinn replies. "So take what you want."

Quinn speeds up his fingers and curls them in a 'come here' motion. The gentle scratch of his facial hair turns less gentle as he speeds up his tongue movements, but she still loves it.

She throws her head back and cries out his name as she comes. She involuntarily rolls her own hips so her core grinds against his face again. Her fingers curl in his locks so she has something to hold on to as she reaches her climax. She loses her vision for half a second because of how hard her orgasm hits her.

Her body turns to jelly as she recovers. With Quinn's help, she's able to lie back down beside him. Her breathing is labored and she stares up at the ceiling, unable to move to look at her boyfriend.

All this morning showed her is that Quinn needs to grow out his facial hair more often because it made her come harder than she ever has before. She can't move for about ten minutes after her orgasm.

When she's fully conscious again, she looks over at Quinn. He didn't go and shave yet.

"I think I'm going to keep this for another day or two," he tells her. "Just for you. That is going to happen a few more times before it goes away."

She smiles and rolls so she can touch his face. "I'm going to need you to grow it out like this again soon because holy shit, Quinn," she giggles. "So hot. Felt so good."

Quinn matches her smile. "Maybe over the summer," he tells her. "No promises though."

"Gonna need my favorite seat back at some point."

"Next year when we make playoffs against for sure."

༺──────────────༻

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xoluvx · 4 months ago

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sit on it (respectfully); b.eilish

part one

One night. Just one night is all you needed. Just to satisfy your hunger. She'd given you a taste, but you wanted the whole thing. Then you could go back to being friends and all would be well in the world.

One night of wild passionate sex wouldn't hurt, right?

Your bodies stumbled into her room. A room that'd just been so ordinary earlier that day but was now holy ground as your bodies pressed together moaning into each others' mouths. Billie played with the hem of your shirt as you pulled on her hair.

"Take it off, take it off," you begged out of breath as if the fabric was burning your skin. You didn't want to waste time if it was only one night. There were only so many hours left to indulge.

Billie pulled your shirt off with equal desperation and watched as your breasts broke free. No bra.

No underwear and no bra. You were full of surprises.

At dinner, you hadn't even bothered to hide it. What'd just gone down a few hours ago was still on your mind; replaying like a broken record.

“What are you thinking about?” Billie had noticed your sudden silence. The way you picked at your food like you’d lost your appetite. You looked up catching her eyes in a knowing look. It wasn’t hard to guess what you were thinking about.

“Okay, but be honest. Respectfully-" she raised her brows. "-did you enjoy yourself?” Billie asked leaning in trying to lighten the mood. Her voice almost in a whisper. Her eyes shone, bottom lip tucked under her teeth waiting for your answer.

“Enjoy myself?” You asked cheekily trying to move past this conversation.

“Sitting on my cock,” she whispered not bothering to look around and see if someone could hear.

“Stop calling it your cock,” you rolled your eyes remembering the way she’d asked you to cum on it earlier and that comment alone was part of the reason you came in the first place.

“What? I bought it, it’s mine,” Billie’s eyes widened before grinning.

“And I’ll take that as a yes,” her hand touched yours when she reached for a fry on your plate. You swallowed watching her closely. Her lips wrapping around the salty potato. Did she have to make everything so sexual or had she always been this way?

It was most definitely the latter recalling the way she’s jerked off the dildo feigning a moan that sounded very much like the ones she released when you were riding her.

Billie sat closer. Your bodies almost huddled in the large booth like you were exchanging secrets. But the only secret you had was that you'd rode your best friend and wanted to do it again.

Her hand found its way to your thigh naturally. Your legs were crossed and you were a mess. She glanced at you with an 'is this okay?' look and your eyes said it all. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me. Her hand inched further up your thigh until she felt your pussy. You weren't wearing underwear. She hadn't seen you slip them off in her room.

Then she moved hand from your thigh, leaving you in utter confusion.

But right now there was nothing confusing about the way she looked at your body. You knew she wanted to eat you alive and you'd agreed on making this a night to indulge.

"Fuck. Me." Billie's voice was low as she drooled at the sight of your breasts. They were so perfect and welcoming. She held your hips staring. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders coming close to her ear.

"I plan to," you whispered, your voice sultry as your tongue ran up her neck. A new found confidence sparked within.

"Ugh," Billie moaned furrowing your brows like she'd just bust in her underwear. She very well could have from that comment alone. Wild thoughts ran through her mind and she pictured all the ways she could fuck you in the hours to come.

Your tongue was wet along her jaw finding your way to her lips. There was something so taboo and sacred about this moment. Your tongues wrestling for dominance, your lips touching, your hands roaming each others' bodies. Billie tugged at your skirt and you helped her slide it off rapidly.

You were completely naked in the arms of your best friend and somehow you were okay with that.

"You're wearing too much clothes," you whispered against her lips as her hands touched every place possible.

"Take it off then," she challenged stepping away from you. She glanced up and down drinking you in. You felt hot and flushed and desperate. The way she was biting her lip waiting patiently for you to strip her was so fucking hot and you had one night to savor it. To drown in it.

You never broke eye contact. You touched the bottom of her shirt. Your fingers curled around the fabric tugging at it. She lifted her arms and you pulled the shirt over her head, her hair getting messy in the process and oh my god it was possible for her to be hotter.

The eye contact was broken when your eyes lingered on her breasts. They looked so delicious in the lacy red fabric, her skin peeking through the sheer material.

You dropped her shirt heading for her jeans; the new pair of jeans she'd put on because you'd totally ruined the last pair. Your fingers toyed with the buckle of her belt until your hands were unbuttoning her pants.

"Wow. Matching set. Did you plan this?" you teased looking at the tiny pair of underwear before meeting her gaze. There was a glint in her eye and a cocky smile on her lips. But she felt so much smaller stripped down to tiny fabric. Unlike you. You were taking control and you felt bold.

You wrapped your arms around her neck, your fingers tangling in her hair pulling on it gently urging her to moan. Her lips parted as she looked at yours hungrily. You kissed her as she pushed your body back towards the bed.

When the back of your legs hit the mattress she held you tight making sure you didn’t injure yourself on the way down. Her thigh pressed between your thighs sinking the mattress as she hovered over you, lips still connecting passionately. You felt her hand rustling on the bed until she pulled away.

“Should I wash it?” She asked holding the strap recalling what happened earlier.

“No, god Billie just fuck me please,” you begged fisting the sheets. Billie had never heard this side of you. Not only were you yearning and whiny, but you’d asserted yourself in the same way she had earlier that night. The roles switched.

She swallowed before nodding, strapping the harness to her body. She was at a lost for words, her previous cocky demeanor shattered by your desperation.

Your gaze was intimidating as you held your body up with your elbows, your feet planted on the bed, legs slightly open.

“Take that off,” you exclaimed motioning towards her bra. Billie unhooked it letting her breasts break free. They really were a sight. You bit your lip as she approached you. Thigh between your legs again, hand on your jaw kissing you softly as your hand dragged up the side of her body.

Then she positioned herself between your legs while running a hand along the inside of your thigh until her index finger touched your pussy. You shivered as she slid it between your folds. You were soaked and ready. She grabbed the dildo, mimicking the movements of her finger and running it between your folds. You tossed your head back still propped on your elbows in anticipation.

The she broke through your walls so fucking slow you were holding your breath and felt lightheaded by the time she bottomed out.

“Fuck,” you cursed opening your eyes, your lips resting in a perfect ‘o’. She couldn't help but picture all the filthy things she could do that mouth as she started thrusting her hips. Your tits bounced in sync following the motion. Your whimpers and whines were driving her crazy and pushing her into overdrive.

She had thought watching you ride her cock was spellbinding...she was wrong. This new position was one of wildest dreams. The way you scrunched your face raising your arms above your head writhing under her spell, fingers curling around cool fabric. You were chanting her name and she'd never heard it sound more sexy. You were under her control entirely.

She held the back of you legs thrusting her hips at a pace you couldn't fathom. She was hitting all the perfect spots, you were choking on your words, your chest rising and falling rapidly trying to catch your breath. Her skin slapped yours with each thrust and you reached out to hold her neck as she leaned down fucking you senseless. Your foreheads pressed together never breaking eye contact.

Your mouth hung open and she licked her lips before kissing you hungrily. You whimpered into her mouth as she hit your g spot, body bouncing as she concentrated on your impending orgasm. You stopped kissing her when you felt the familiar tingling and tightness. Your lips touched sloppily, breaths mixing as you shut your eyes.

"I'm gonna-" you moaned in her mouth as she grunted and nodded. Silently pleading. It seemed like she was the one under your control after all. All she wanted was for you to cum on her cock again and again and again.

She watched you unravel under her body as her thrusts slowed. Long and rough, fingers digging into your tingling skin.

You tried hard to catch your breath as she rolled off of you. You smiled and laughed because she’d just made you cum. Again. In one day. Your best friend did that.

You glanced at her, she was staring at you. Then you followed her gaze down to the dildo lathered with your arousal.

“Can you-“ Billie cleared her throat, her hand held the fake cock like she could actually feel it. Like it was a part of her. Like it was throbbing from being wrapped up in your tight pussy.

“Can I what?” You asked cheekily turning to the side getting a full view of her. Her face turned red. It was clear she was in the palm of your hands, but you’d still do anything she asked.

“Suck on it,” she spat out making eye contact. She was flushed and her hair was sticking to the back of her neck. Her forehead glistened and her lips were plump and red. She looked so scrumptious.

She had pictured herself doing unspeakable things to your mouth earlier and she only had one night to try it.

You swallowed, but your body slid off the bed before planting yourself on the floor, it was cold against your knees. Your hand wrapped around the cock brushing hers as you maintained eye contact. She kept her hand at the base waiting. Your tongue brushed the tip still staring at her. She was biting her lip. Then your lips wrapped around the tip as she watched you carefully.

When you finally took the dildo in your mouth she groaned feeling your lips on her hand. You released a guttural moan when she instinctively raised her hips.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” She asked and you blinked. Again, you were putty in her hands and you'd do anything she asked.

You nodded watching her stand. She positioned herself in front of your face and touched the corner of your mouth brushing your skin with her thumb. Then she ran it along your bottom lip opening your mouth as she held the cock sliding it between your lips. Little by little, her hand firm. Your eyes full.

You took it all in and let out a moan when she hit the back of your throat. She pulled out quickly holding the back of your head before repeating the motion. This time, she thrusted steadily and your fingers wrapped around her skin holding her thighs as she fucked your mouth.

The thrusts grew faster and faster as Billie groaned and you gurgled the cock. She could only imagine what she’d really feel if it was real, but the sight of you beneath her was enough to make her pussy throb. She cradled your head as she pulled out. She drank in the image, your eyes were watering, your mascara clumping and coating your bottom lashes. She had never seen something more beautiful.

Billie caressed your cheek, as you fought to catch your breath. You leaned your head into her touch silently still on your knees until she reached for your hand helping you up. Her arm wrapped around your waist, hand on your jaw as she kissed your lips. You held on to her arms, your legs adjusting to being on your feet as you indulged in the slow kiss.

She pulled away, your noses brushing.

"One more thing," her voice low and raspy. You blinked looking at her patiently.

“Sit on it, respectfully” she whispered staring at your mouth as she tugged at your bottom lip with her thumb. She felt like she’d been asking for too much all night.

Fuck. You'd done more than you ever thought you would with her. Each thing better than the last and the way she was looking at you was driving you mad and she was touching your lip and squeezing your ass and fuck yeah you were going to sit on it.

You were going to sit on it, bounce on it, freak on it so very disrespectfully.

#billie eilish #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x reader

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chrissv4mp · 4 months ago

Text

౨ৎ YOU DON'T REMEMBER CALLING OUT FOR ME?

★ sum: after a bad breakup with matt, you storm out of his party and get in the car. matt follows after you, and he regrets everything he said when he sees it happen.

☆ pair: matt sturniolo × fem!reader

★ tws: cursing, arguments, crying, driving under the influence kinda, car crashes, slight blood, mentions of amnesia (the loss of memories, facts, information, and experiences.)

☆ a/n: don't check my airbuds history.....

★ a/n 2: also really hoping to make a part 2 for this, but i need a few opinions

★ wc: 3.3k

navigation

"don't be so fucking sensitive, y/n! i was just messing around. you're getting all riled up over nothin', kid." matt groans, leaning back and supporting himself with his hands on the mattress underneath him.

a scoff falls from your lips as you cross your arms, watching him from the open door of his bedroom, "don't call me 'kid', i'm not a fuckin' kid, matthew. and you could've died from the height of your apartment! you're still drunk." you catch sight of his blown pupils even from across the room, worry and anger clear on your face.

matt just rolls his eyes, gripping the sheets in his hands as he sighs, "well, i can hear what you're saying perfectly, thank you. and, plus, i wasn't gonna lose 50 fucking dollars, y/n."

"you didn't have to give it to the guy, matt. you're just so reckless, it's like you're trying to kill yourself 24/7! what is your problem?" your breathing is heavy now, the heat of the argument never dying down as you continue to voice your complaints about his recklessness. tears threaten to fall down your cheeks as he just mutters inaudible words.

"what problem? there's not a problem, you're the one making it a problem, y/n. it's not my fault you're such a boring fucking person. god, i can't even comprehend why i wanted to date you!" he growls, his voice never shaking as he stares you straight in the eyes. he seems serious, but you knew that he always said things he never meant while under the influence.

it feels like your whole world just fell apart, though. your chest feels tighter and it's almost like you can barely breathe, gripping the doorframe tightly as you watch matt fiddle with the edge of his pillowcase. he really doesn't care, his eyes not showcasing any emotion other than hatred. or, that's what it seems. you want the tears to fall, but they don't. you want to leave, but you can't. you want matt to say something, maybe even take it back, but he doesn't.

you want to— "then why haven't you broken up with me?" stupid. the realization that you just spoke up hits you only when matt stands up from his bed, inching closer toward your small figure as he gets tilts his head to get a better look at you, "tell me, matt." again? just shut up!

"you're right, i really wonder why i didn't do this sooner." your eyes widen in the slightest, your heart dropping to your stomach as you stare up into his cold, blue eyes that once looked at you in adoration. the spark that was once there is gone now as he looks at you, squinting his eyes as he speaks, "we're over. get the fuck out of my room, y/n."

your lips part in a silent gasp, eyes searching his for any signs of hesitation or regret or something. nothing, once again. he scoffs when he takes a step back, crossing his arms in a mimicking manner as he nods his head toward the hallway behind you, "actually, get the fuck out of my house."

the sick feeling in your stomach never leaves even as you turn away from your boyf—ex, and walk through the hallway. you make your way down the stairs, not even stopping to say bye to nick or chris as you pass by them in the living room. all you do is keep your head down and drag your feet, grabbing your jacket off the rack before leaving through the front door. it slams behind you, but you don't care anymore. your whole world just fell apart right in the hands of the person who you loved most. in the hands of the person who you thought loved you the most.

matt didn't care, though. well, not until he replayed the earlier events in his head over and over again after he saw you leave down the stairs. the impact of his words didn't hit himself until you were finally gone and he was sitting in his room alone, surrounded by millions of memories of you and him. your clothes were still here, the things you bought for him, they were painful reminders of the words that he just spoke to you. he didn't even think about it when he said them, he was just spitting out anything that came to mind. he wasn't thinking of the consequences.

maybe he should run after you or maybe he should just sit here and drown in his sorrow and despair, that was the more reasonable option. for him at least. his mind is so loud right now, he doesn't even know what to think anymore. his body moves by itself, jolting forward as his feet take him running down the stairs. he skips steps, almost tripping over his untied shoelaces and stumbling down the last few. he takes a quick glance at the living room and kitchen, but you're not there.

party guests call matts name, but he's not listening. he's not interested in whatever bullshit they have to say right now because his mind is shouting at him to find you, to make things right and show you that he never meant it. he doesn't even notice that he's shoving party goers out of the way until someone pushes him back, resulting in the brunette getting splashed with some red beverage. his heart beats fast and hard, the sound loud and drowning out any other thing around him. we'll, besides the overwhelming thoughts of you.

he slips on one of chris's jackets, darting out the door and slamming it shut behind him. he doesn't see you in the driveway, no sight of your car down the street or on the side of the apartment. his ears pick up on the sound of a car beeping, and his head whips around to find a bike propped up against the garage door. it all happens so fast, he can't even remember when he started pedaling down the street and catching sight of your h/c hair through your car window. he waves, but you don't give him anything back.

it feels like he's invisible, and now he knows what you felt like tonight in that apartment, alone and unseen. unheard by any and everyone around you, including the love of your life. matt watches as you speed up, ready to round the corner deeper into the neighborhood. you really don't know where you're going, though. all you want right now is to just get away from the house and never come back, you didn't want to remember the events of tonight ever. your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as your foot presses even harder on the break.

the tears you held back earlier now begin to fall, and you mentally curse yourself for not holding them in longer. now you couldn't see anything, your vision blurry as you bring a hand up and off the steering wheel to wipe your eyes, trying to see through the windshield again. it doesn't work, and now you're just hoping that you won't lose control over the car. the limited time that your vision is cleared, you can see matt following close behind your car on a black bike, and your first instinct is to freeze and stare.

you don't make the turn, stomping on the brakes in the middle of the road as you watch your boy come closer and closer. his eyes widen, lips parting before you hear a cry of your name tumble from his lips. the only noise you hear is a loud horn coming from the left of you, your head whipping to the side and watching as a large truck comes your way at a fast pace. then, you hear the ringing in your ear, eyes squeezing shut as you let your arms fall to the side of you.

the truck t-bones your car, sending both of the vehicles flying to the right quickly. you smell gas, feeling the wet sensation of blood dripping down your temple and running down the bridge of your nose. your body feels weak, like you can't move, so you just sit there, head lying against the airbag on the steering wheel as you slip into unconsciousness. matt watches in shock and fear as your car tips on its side and smoke begins to erupt from the hood of the car. his heart feels like it stops beating for a moment as he watches the truck reverse and drive off quickly, anger coursing through his veins as he jumps off the bike and lets it fall to the pavement of the sidewalk.

he runs over to your car, his chest heaving up and down quickly as he makes an effort to tip the car back on its wheels. it doesn't work, though, and he grunts as he throws himself against the metal of the roof, "y/n, hey!" his voice seems to snap you out of your daze, now feeling fully conscious as your eyes flutter open again. your body fell against the car door, the seatbelt strap felt like it was suffocating you. the small space of the car suddenly made you weary, eyes widening as your breathing picked up rapidly.

"don't! stop, y/n, don't panic," matt breathes out, trying his best to come off as calm and collected. but he's really not, he's far from anything relatively close to the sort. more footsteps are heard behind him, and now his neighbor is standing a few feet beside matt, "what the fuck happened?"

"doesn't matter. js' help me flip the car, would you?" matt sighs, the panic in his body rising as the smell of gas surfaces. the car flips onto the wheels after quite a moment of struggles, and matt doesn't hesitate to throw youe car door open and grab you. his feet take him stumbling away from the car again, holding you tightly in his arms as if he let go, he would lose you. again. a string of coughs erupt from your throat as you and matt fall gently to the grass of someone's front yard, and matt lies you down as he props himself up with his elbows.

his neighbor is already far away, phone up to his ear as he watches the car explode into flames, the windows of nearby houses reflecting the burning red, orange, and blue lights. matt breathes out as he grips the fabric of his hoodie, more tears coming to his eyes at the realization that if he hadn't left sooner, you would've died. his head moves away entirely from the scene, looking back at your weak body that lay on the grass beside him.

only then does he notice the large gash just below your hairline, and his breath hitches again as he struggles to throw his hoodie over his head and hold it against your own. his other hand cradles the back of your head, his body hovering over yours as he silently prays that you'll be alright. the blood has already traveled down your neck, though. it soaks your white shirt as your head falls to the side, eyes threatening to close as you mutter out jumbled up words, "hey, hey, come on, look at me, y/n. please, look at me. open your eyes, come on..!"

"baby, please. just stay awake, please. my pretty girl, come on..!!" he whispers, anger overcoming his being as he grips the fabric in his hands tighter. he's so angry at himself. he wished he was the one in that car. he should've been the one to experience this, not you. you didn't deserve this at all. it was all his fault, what happened to you. what if he had just talked with you? what if he had just said sorry? what if, what if, what if?

the world seems to spinning faster than usual right now, your head aching as you look at your surroundings. as you look up at the sky, you're met with the cool shade of blue that slowly fades to orange and pink as it travels beneath the mountain until you can't see. then, you make out the frame of matts face, his eyes full of worry and his hair messy. tears stream down his face as he cried quietly, "matt?" you mutter weakly, eyes teary and bloodshot. he nods frantically, a small smile forming on his lips as he whispers, "yes, yes, yes. it's me." but then it all goes away.

matt? who was matt? your face contorts into a look of confusion as you try to tilt your head, only to hiss at the sting the small movement causes, "what—who? who are you?" the hope is washed away by those few words, and the brunettes smile disappears as he feels tiny, imaginary daggers stabbing away at his heart. he doesn't have time to speak before he finally hears the blaring sounds of sirens coming down the street. multiple emergency vehicles drive down the pavement quickly, stopping at the scene. matt is suddenly being pulled away from your frail body, fighting against the hands of the paramedics as he tries to yell out your name. nothing comes out, though, his voice too tired to be used anymore.

his vision is blurred, but he can still make out the way your eyes close softly as your head falls to the side. his heart shatters as he cries out your name finally, all the emotions so overwhelming he doesn't know what else to say. then his brothers are holding him close, trying to calm him down as all three of them stumble to the pavement of their driveway, "matt, hey, look at us. she'll be okay." nick whispers reassuringly, but he doesn't know if that's true. chris just stares blankly as the paramedics carry you on a gurney into the back of the ambulance.

your lip is busted, blood dripping down your head quickly and multiple bruises scattered across your body. the ambulance doors begin to close, and matt quickly jumps up from his place between his brothers and sprints towards the red car. his hands pry the doors open again, eyes wild as he stares at the caretakers in the back of the ambulance, "please, let me come. i need to be here with her, just—" one of the paramedics nod, and that's all the confirmation matt needs to jump into the back and take his place beside your head.

the car shakes subtly on the gravelly road, and the gentle coos of... him make your eyelids open slowly. you want to get up, so you make an effort to move yourself off the gurney in the back of the ambulance, but the paramedics only urge to stay where you're at, "you have to lay down, you're in terrible shape, sweetheart." but why? what even happened? where were you and why were you there?

who were these people? no, who was the guy right beside you who continued to stroke your hair gently? you don't even know yourself right now. did you hit your head? is that why it ached? what about your body? your eyes move around the small, confined space of the ambulance, stopping when you look out of the little window in the back door. the car continues to move down the street, but you still don't remember where you're going or where you were coming from.

"what happened?" you finally speak, but your voice is low and quiet, barely audible to anyone over the beeping of machines and the rocks beneath the road. matt sighs quietly, and now your attention is on him, "you got in a car crash. you're okay, now, so, don't worry." he gives you a gentle smile, but you only give him a look of confusion and worry.

"no?" you try to argue, looking around at the paramedics beside you. they only nod, and your heart drops once again. you were always a safe driver, or at least that's what you think in that moment. everything in your mind is so blurry you don't even remember what happened yesterday or what plans you made for the future. and still, you didn't know the guy touching your face.

matt watches as you space out, his thumb stroking your cheek affectionately as he frowns. he remembers the look on your face earlier that night, when he broke things off, and now it's back. that dumbfounded look that makes your lips part and your eyes squint subtly. you looked the same at times, even when half your face was beat up. he didn't care, though, he still thought you were beautiful, always. he brings his hand up to brush a stray hair out of your face, and only then do you turn your head to look at him again.

"who are you..?" you whisper, eyes looking him up and down. his hair is messy, eyes droopy, cheeks stained with tears, and his clothing is wrinkled. matt tilts his head, a smile coming to his face as more tears well up in his eyes, "you don't remember me?" you shake your head the best you can, squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. it feels like you should remember him, it seems like he was an important person in your life, but you can't quite grasp who he was to you.

"you don't even remember calling out to me?" another shake of your head, and matt inhales sharply. he wanted to scream and cry. he wanted you to comfort him. he wanted you back. but he should've known you wouldn't remember it. he should've taken the hint the moment you asked who he was. it still hurt, though. it felt like the entire world was bashing him. emotionally and physically, it hurt, the guilt weighing down on his shoulders as he stared at your confused face, sniffling quietly before he took his hands off your head.

the drive continues, but this time the tension is thicker then before. the silence is so loud, you barely hear the loud blaring of a truck horn coming from outside of the car. you flinch hard, eyes shutting closed as you try and shield your face. matt watches with teary eyes, letting out a breath of sympathy as he replays the events in his head. then, the entire thing comes back to you. the loud horn, the smell of gas, the blood sticking to your hair and the boy who came to save you.

red, orange, blue. the fire. the screams and the cries that the boy let out for you. he was the first person to come after you because he cared for you. you still didn't know why, though. why did he care so much? why did he feel the need to save you? "i told you even then you looked so pretty, y/n. you still do, you'll always be beautiful to me." the brunette whispered, leaning over your frail body as he gave you a gentle smile. his eyes were teary, though, and he looked hurt. very hurt.

"i—i'm sorry." is all you can say at the moment, eyes traveling to his as you frown. he shakes his head, lips parting to inhale shakily before he speaks, "don't be. ts' not you're fault," he smiles, but when he looks back into your eyes, they're swarming with the tiniest bit of guilt, "you do know that, right?" nothing but silence from your end. the boy takes your hand lightly, careful not to accidentally hurt you as he runs his thumb along the top, "it was never your fault, baby. i promise you, it was my—it was that truckers fault for not stopping."

your lips curve into the smallest smile as you make an effort to hold his hand, and the boy almost bursts out into sobs as he feels it. his head turns away from you for a few moments, trying to recollect himself as he takes deep breaths. when he finally looks back at you, your eyes are already on him, "i'm—i'm matt, you're boyfriend. but... we need to talk about a few things, 'kay..?"

tags: @jetaimevous @livialifesblog @watercolorskyy @blahbel668 @her-favorite

@wiidfi0wer33

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et6rnalsun · 4 months ago

Text

DON’T, matt sturniolo

𝜗𝜚 pairing: matt sturn x fem! reader

warnings: unprotected & kinda rough sex (wrap it up rn), p in v, mentions of slighty toxic behavior in relationship, cheating (?)

A/N: dedicated to all the anons in my inbox asking for more matt fics 🎀 (requests are open. masterlist) ++ lmk if u guys want to be added to my inexistent taglist.

update: this has been in my drafts for 3 months

one moment you were resting your head on your boyfriend's chest, his fingers gently playing with your hair as you simply cuddled, and the next you were screaming the worst things at each other as you rushed to get your things scattered across the floor of his room.

he didn't have to say much more before sobs escaped your lips, tears falling down your eyes and ruining your mascara which only made your already messed up appearance worse. it was always like this between the two of you, no matter how good you had it since it didn't take much to ruin everything. to make chris put on his mask of carelessness and say the meanest things to you without even thinking about your feelings.

you didn't even know how to get home. you had to sleep there that night, and obviously you didn't want to stay in that house for a second longer. this made you cry more, your figure shaking with constant sobs as you thought of a quick solution.

eventually, the door to matt's room entered your field of vision, and a glimmer of hope lit up in your head.

you knocked gently on his door with your knuckles, and a murmur of agreement came almost immediately. when you opened the door, wiping the tears and the already dried mascara from your cheeks, matt was sitting on the bed as he looked at you with an expression mixed with confusion and sleep. his hair was disheveled, the sheets all wrinkled from tossing and turning around, and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all.

the sight made your heart skip a beat, and it was probably just the guilt eating you up entirely for waking him up in the middle of the night. "what happened?" his eyes filled with concern after seeing your conditions, and he quickly stood up as he approached you — his figure covering yours whole. one of his hands rested on your cheek, and somehow the warmth of his touch made you want to keep crying. inevitably you leaned into that caress, looking up into his eyes. "chris" the answer was enough to make him sigh, as if he already understood everything.

“i just need to put on a shirt, then i'll drive you home” he replied, his thumb leaving one last small touch on your face before turning and reaching for the piece of clothing. you leaned against the wall, watching him put it on. your eyes ran over his figure briefly, his v line highlighted as his arms came up. it was almost impossible for you to look away from the sight, and you instinctively bit your lower lip while your thighs were a bit more closed together. just a little.

you didn't know where all those feelings were coming from, considering that a few minutes before you were in total despair. but then, the sound of matt's car keys woke you from your daydream, and you cleared your throat as you placed a hand on the handle to exit.

"don't you want to change before going out?" he asked, patting your shoulder as he looked at the exposed skin of your body with his intense eyes. looking down, you noticed that you had completely forgotten how you were still wearing your pajamas; some shorts and a satin crop top. you shook your head, adjusting your messy hair as you both walked down the stairs. "i don't want to. nobody will see me anyway"

he let out a small, amused huff, pinching your hip playfully as you bent down to put on your shoes. "you'll catch a cold"

“can you just shut up and drive me home?” you feigned annoyance, but a small hint of a smile appeared on your lips as you returned the pinch with a small push. he chuckled, before taking off his jacket to place it on your shoulders. “come on, let’s go” he slid it off like it was a completely normal and natural gesture, opening the front door as he waited for you.

his scent completely invaded your nostrils, making you feel almost dizzy as you followed him without saying a word. his jacket was slightly big on you, bringing you the warmth you really needed but were too stubborn to admit.

the car ride was uneventful. your temple rested against the window as you watched the streets ‘move’ in front of you, completely quiet and empty. you could feel his gaze drifting over to you at times, staying there for a few seconds before returning his focus to driving.

“you didn't tell me what happened, anyway” his voice interrupted the comforting silence that had created between the two of you as soon as you stopped at a red light, making you turn your head slightly to look at him back. "the same things, matt. we can never find peace with constant fighting and he always seems to find ways to hurt me" you shrugged, your voice low and slightly scratchy from earlier crying. "he doesn't even think before he speaks, you know that better than me. but sometimes i really wish he would"

he took a few seconds before answering, as if he was thinking about it. "i always thought you deserved better. chris isn't ready for a serious relationship" his hand that was on the gear shift suddenly rested on your thigh, his ring-horned fingers stroking the exposed skin. he smirked a little before continuing, watching you shiver at his touch. "he's not mature enough"

you knew matt's words weren't meant to be mean to chris or anything like that, but there was an edge to his tone that confused you slightly. almost like he was hoping you would break up with his brother. "i can't blame him, maybe i’m the one pressuring him too much"

he scoffed at your words as the light turned green again, allowing you two to continue down the street towards your house. "i would really like you to understand that you are probably the best girlfriend anyone could ask for. i'm not the one experiencing it, but looking from the outside, i can tell"

you remained silent at those words, simply looking at him as he was focused on the road. you were beyond confused at that point, and you couldn't figure out what was right or wrong anymore. “if you say so” you decided to say, a small sigh escaping your lips.

soon, he had drove you home safely. you made him stop the car in the parking lot, knowing that you would remain in his company a little longer. "thank you so much, matt, really. you're a friend" your voice reached his ears softly, making him smile as he nodded. "you don't need to thank me" he reminded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “but i want to. it must have been tiring dealing with my sensitive ass all night” you giggled, making him roll his eyes affectionately. "a little. but the fact that you’re pretty has alleviated the suffering"

and then it all happened quickly. his slightly chapped lips had found your glossy ones in a desperate, resentful kiss, his fingers sliding into your hair and the back of your head to pull you closer. you found yourself responding to the kiss immediately, knowing that you weren't expecting anything else. his tongue made its way into your mouth quickly, his other hand trailing down the curve of your hip.

matt was desperate to have his hands on you and it showed in how he couldn't help but touch you everywhere, his touches were frantic as he brought you closer to him and tasted your mouth, what he could only watch for months, practically devouring it.

“get in the back” he practically pleaded, his breathing labored as he broke away from the kiss with a loud 'pop', while you moved quickly to settle into his backseat. his body was quick to tower over yours, his necklace dangling in your face as he pulled your shorts down quickly, before spreading your legs with his hands. he took in the sight of your delicate panties, so thin that it made his head spin. “fuck, you’re perfect” all while your hands already made its way under his shirt, before removing it completely.

he didn't waste any more time, and quickly unbuttoned his pants, groaning at the feeling of your legs already wrapped around his slutty waist.

panties torn with little importance, tip hastily aligned with your entrance before pounding into you without any preparation, making you moan his name out loud in pain mixed with immediate pleasure. "sorry, baby" he murmured, noticing your slight discomfort. he couldn't stop though, and at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around him he lost his mind and started with a fast pace right away, barely giving you a chance to adjust.

your nails were already digging into his back, scratching, leaving obvious marks that showed how much you were enjoying it — you loved that rough side of him, you really did, and you didn't care if you most likely wouldn't be able to walk for a while. cause you wanted it first anyway.

the windows were fogged, and the sound of your sinful moans and grunts were the only thing occupying the inside of the car, replacing the silence that would have been there with sounds that would be perfect for damn porn good enough to jerk off to.

it was devastating the speed with which you were both close to your orgasm, but it was probably the fault of all that pent-up tension that had finally disappeared in a quick gesture.

matt didn't think about chris as he came inside you, and neither did you as you let him. at all. he didn't even cross your fucked up minds while your bodies, sweaty and exhausted, entwined inside each other in search of a heat capable of calming those similar voids inside you.

but you soon realized you were done when your phone started ringing, and taking it lazily from your dropped bag, you read the name of your current boyfriend. chris.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #smut #18+ smut

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dragonsfictavern · 1 year ago

Text

Without Much Spoken

Astarion x gn!Reader

a/n: My first attempt at posting for bg3 and Astarion. But I plan to continue posting many more fics for not only this lil guy, but for a lot of the party! So stick around!

summary: During one night of your groups travels together, Astarion enters the room to find you overwhelmed and crying. Acting before thinking it through, Astarion comforts you.

word count: 1.1k

Walking up the stairs of the Inn their group was staying in for the next couple of days, Astarion opens the door as he normally would, heading to bed after the exhausting day that had finally, at last, ended. He was more than ready to plop into bed and fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep. His only true escape that lasted far few hours.

But as soon as the door creaked open, a small sliver of light shining through, your sobs broke through the silence like a fierce screech. They stopped a moment after, the silence even more heavy and the tension growing thick the longer neither of you speak.

Astarion opens the door, only a bit further. Enough for the light from the hall to catch on your features. Your frozen, having fled to isolation in order to prevent this. To stop anyone from seeing you, to not bother anyone else with the weight of your intensely hyperactive feelings. Especially him. God, you didn’t want to bother him with this.

Astarion was always good for a light joke, a quick quip. He was good at that. At making things feel lighter, even unintentionally making you feel better at times. But that’s not what you wanted right now. You didn’t want to feel better in that way, you didn’t want to attempt to push aside your emotions for another, you didn’t want to just forget about what you felt. You needed to let out what was overwhelming you. What twisted your gut with anxiety, what made it hard to breathe, what sent your body into overdrive, what clouded your mind and made you feel like a complete mess.

You needed it out, and you knew Astarion wasn’t typically the one to go to with that sort of thing. You never held it against him, you cared for him, you may even love him. But you knew he had little to no experience in the ways of comforting someone. Knew he didn’t really know how to do that. So, in an action you convinced herself was selfless, you didn’t confide in him. Didn’t give him the chance to offer whatever type of comfort he possibly could provide.

And Astarion knew it all and more. With his past, he knew how to read people easily. Learning how others think was vital in his line of work, in his everyday life, in his survival… Reading you always seemed a little bit easier for him to do than it was with others. He could see what you were trying to do. The way your body stiffened on the bed, the tears both dried and fresh on your cheeks, the way your hands clenched as if you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

Astarion didn’t feel any particular way about this revelation. He could see your reasoning, your line of thinking and what brought you to the conclusions you ended up at. So he honestly couldn’t explain why he reacted the way he did.

His hand shuts the door, encompassing you both back into darkness without thought. His feet move toward you on their own. Though the darkness surrounds you both, both of your eyes end up adjusting again. You can see the way Astarion stops at the edge of the bed, his form hovering over your curled frame on the bed.

It’s without a word that he slides into bed behind you, his back resting comfortably against the headboard. His legs spread wide, giving you enough space to sit between them. His hands softly curl around you, not trying to overwhelm you even more. One hand around your stomach, feeling the erratic breaths you take as you attempts to hide your cries. The other hand over your heart, feeling its pounding rhythm, both from the mix of emotions that sent you to this state and from him finding you here. He didn’t need to do this, his hearing being able to pick it up well enough on its own. But for some reason he needed the reassurance. That it was all real.

He pulls you into his chest and you don’t hesitate to fall against him, putting your weight on him. He isn’t doing this to prove anything to you. To prove he can comfort you, if you needed him to. No, he isn’t going to make you come to him and he’s not going to make you hide. He doesn’t know why he’s done this. He just… did. Wanted to. It’s all he can grasp onto.

The feeling of him being there was enough, you realize. It had taken so much energy to try and remain still after Astarion found you, but now that he was here and he’s staying, you can’t hold it in any longer. It physically pained you beyond explanation. Sobs broke out of you, the action moving your body with its force. You couldn’t control it.

Astarion just sits there, not saying anything and not really doing anything either. But it’s more than enough. You didn’t realize how being alone had made everything so much worse. You thought that being alone, having nothing around that could possibly add to your array of emotions was what was best for you. But as you two laid together, you noticed the way Astarion didn’t add anything. The way he could actually help in ways everyone else just couldn’t seem to.

Eventually you begin to calm down, your body shaking but your emotions releasing and leaving you. That’s when you feel Astarion’s hand on the back of your head. You jump slightly, but besides that, you don’t dare acknowledge it. His hand gently starts combing through your hair. Then when he reaches the end, he brings it back to the top of your head. You sigh heavily, falling into him further. The peace of the empty silence, the darkness that covers everything, washes over you both. Neither of you seem to want to break it.

You tilt your head ever so slightly, hoping he doesn’t stop. The gesture was doing wonders to help calm you down further. You can barely make out Astarion through the darkness, but you can see enough to tell he’s simply staring ahead. It’s then you realize that he probably hadn’t even noticed what he’s doing to you. How he’s actually comforting you. It sends waves of pleasure through you, working both to overwhelm you a bit more and yet also calming you. You fall back, fully resting on him once again as he, in a way, pets you. Your eyes seemingly closed on their own.

It’s only after an unknown amount of time that he murmurs in your ear, “I’m here.”

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thewordswewrite · 4 months ago

Text

Be My Guest

Pairing | Kate Carter x Tyler Owens

Summary | One time Tyler stays in Kate’s guest room and one time she stays in his

Warnings | discussions of trauma/injury associated with storm chasing, SMUT 18+

W/C | 6.6k

A/N | We wanted to hop into the Twisters fandom before it took ao3 by storm and this is *so far* what we've come up with. So...if you feel it... -smoe <33

AO3 | Link

Donations | Link

Hers

She came home for safety, familiarity, to find her way forward but instead, she found herself more lost than when she’d arrived.

It was only supposed to be a week. Sure, Kate thought it would be difficult to be back in the field but she hadn’t anticipated this. She hadn’t anticipated him. It shouldn’t matter. She had a job in New York, a life, a stable, safe job, her own apartment–everything she needed. But was it everything she wanted?

What Tyler had said crossed a line but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. It was just something she probably already knew, deep down, and hadn’t wanted to accept. She was running away from the storm but she should know better than most that it would always catch up.

With an aggravated sweep of her arm, all of her past research was on the floor, pages floating around her before finding a place to land. She almost immediately regretted the mess but it had felt good. For the last five years, she’s avoided risk but now it almost feels hypocritical to say that she misses it.

Kate bent to gather the papers but only grabbed a few before stopping at her Cloud Physics notebook which had fallen open to a familiar page. She sat down in front of it and traced the impressions of her writing on the pages. It was too much to retrace her steps, to consider what had gone wrong. She needed to get out of her head and she couldn’t do that without getting out of this damn barn.

She knocked lightly on the kitchen door so as not to startle her mom. Being an adult, Kate felt an aversion to putting these things on her mom. Her mother had always been supportive, even when knowing her daughter’s passion was actively putting her in danger. Maybe she just didn’t want her mom to repeat the same sentiments as Tyler but she also knew she wasn’t about to come to any decision without some guidance. Just like seeing her middle school science project again, she felt like a child standing in the kitchen.

“Kate?”

“Yeah, it’s just me.” She sighed and pulled out the chair at the dining table that had always belonged to her. The smell of whatever her mother was stirring made her stomach grumble. “Where’s Tyler?”

“Oh, he drove pretty far so he’s getting cleaned up.” Kate could tell her mom was trying to sound uninterested, maybe for her sake but still she asked, “What’s his story anyway?”

“He’s just some internet star from Arkansas,” She explained, picking at a stain on the table. For a moment she thought about leaving it at that but the fire he had lit in the barn was still burning inside her. Sardonically, she added, “He’s made a living as a so-called ‘Tornado Wrangler’ but so far he’s only shot some fireworks into a cyclone and nearly killed the reporter signed on to cover him and his team.”

Her mom chuckled and replied, “Sounds like a man looking for a thrill to me.”

Again, she felt like a child relaying the latest gossip from the schoolyard but she couldn’t help but continue.

“And his whole team is this ragtag group of people who’ve never been to school for this either!”

“I see.”

“I mean sure he’s studied meteorology but they could get seriously hurt.” Kate had busied herself by fiddling with a napkin she’d pulled from the homemade holder. The shreds of it were getting smaller and smaller. “They’re no professionals.”

Her mom hummed, acknowledging her annoyance but countered with, “Well he doesn’t seem too bad to me, he did drive all the way here.” Although her mother graciously spared her the ‘for you’ that they both knew completed that thought, she felt its weight. It was easier to make him seem unlikeable than tell her mom that it was her that was in the wrong.

“You’d believe me if you saw the shirts he sells, his face all sprawled across them.” Kate laughed, thinking of the cheesy slogans. It wasn’t lost on her that she had assumed the worst of him. She thought back to what Lily had said and felt ashamed. “Though,” She conceded, “the money does pay for food for the aftermath survivors. They were handing it out at the last town we were in after the tornado hit.”

“Not all bad then?” Her mother turned fully to face her and Kate knew her teasing expression said all she needed to know.

“I guess not.”

_ _ _

Dinner had been passable, if not enjoyable. Kate had figured it would be awkward, that the dynamic between her and her mom would be offset by Tyler’s presence but it had flowed easily. The only gripe she had was that her mother had gone over her head to invite him to stay the night. In her ideal world, she would’ve ushered him out right after dinner saying a quick thanks for his concern but sending him on his way knowing that she’d never have an obligation to speak to him again.

Tyler had, of course, helped her mom with the dishes, leaving her to watch awkwardly so as not to take up unnecessary space in the small kitchen. She’d shot him a tight smile as he’d excused himself to his room for the night.

“Well,” Her mom said from the doorway, “I’m off to bed. Shut the lights, will you?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she made her way past the living room to her bedroom.

Kate tapped her fingers sporadically against the table, the sound echoing in the quiet house. She hadn’t been fully present for dinner. Every time she looked at Tyler she could only think about what she was doing wrong, what she was missing. As much as she resented the fact, there was no way she could make peace with the past couple of days if she didn’t get in another word with him.

She flipped the last of the switches off and made her way up the stairs, avoiding the ones she knew were extra creaky. At the landing, Kate considered just going to her bedroom but her feet kept their integrity and trudged her towards the guest room.

Her hand was poised to knock when the door opened.

“Kate?” The sound of his voice combined with the unexpected image made her jump. Whatever she had been prepared to say had left with her surprise but Tyler was already speaking again. “Listen, what I said in the barn was out of line I shouldn’t have–”

“No you shouldn’t have…but you weren’t wrong either.”

Stepping back, he opened the door a bit more and though it wasn’t quite an invitation. It was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross with his apology and her admittance the gist of what she’d hoped for. She promised herself that if he didn’t try to say anything else, she’d just turn around and walk away. He bit his lip, seeming to wrestle with something the same way she was.

“What’s the story behind you and Javi?” The question surprised her and she felt a vague excitement about his interest or rather the fact that he was interested at all. But the story itself was not something she was sure she could share.

“We met in college, he was friends with my…my boyfriend at the time.”

Tyler’s eyebrow raised in a silent question before he said, “And your boyfriend he was…”

She couldn’t stand in the hallway any longer where she was fully open to his scrutiny whether the story inspired pity or something else. Kate stepped past him into the room and started to explain,

“He was in the accident, along with two of my best friends.” She folded her arms across her chest, in a way trying to shield herself from the memories. “We were testing the polymer on what we thought was an EF1 but–”

“It was an EF5.” She nodded and his lips shifted into a sympathetic frown. Kate sat on the edge of the bed so that she didn’t have to face him head on.

She continued with, “So, I quit school and packed up to New York. Javi went back to Miami but because of the outbreak he thought he could use a second pair of eyes and invited me on.” From her peripheral, she could see the way he nodded along as she spoke, the genuine compassion still written in his features. She shrugged, unwilling to allow herself to feel the extent of the situation and the memories in front of him, “None of it matters though, I’ll be back in the city by the end of the week anyway.”

“You mean you’re giving up?” Tyler asked like it was somehow a personal affront to him or some greater injustice. Kate wasn’t sure what he cared. They’d only just met and he didn’t know her, not really.

“I’m not giving up. I can’t live like this again, risking my life every day.”

“Because of the accident?” The way he said it, like it was only a passing moment and not something that monumentally changed not only her life but her, made her response sharp.

“Yes, because of the accident.”

He was unshaken by her hostility and placed a hand lightly on top of hers where it sat between them on the bed.

“Kate, I’ve seen people get hurt too, I’ve–” She couldn’t listen to this, couldn’t have him reduce her experience by comparison. If he thought this was the way to change her mind, he was sorely mistaken.

“Yeah, Tyler, well I got hurt. I watched people die, and I’ll bear those scars for the rest of my life.” Her body filled with tension of the memory as her breath began to quicken. She let the anger take over, the simplicity of it easier than the complicated truth. “I don't know why I even–”

“Hold on–Kate!”

Kate could feel the air his failed reach created as he tried to grab her wrist to stop her. She was fast though, spurred on by the singular goal of getting the hell away from him. When she made it to the threshold of her room, she moved to shut the door. It almost slammed fully closed but groaned as the wood crashed into the foot he’d managed to snake in.

“Go to bed,” She demanded.

“So what, you’re going to help Javi line the pockets of Riggs for the rest of the week? The real estate shark that's directly profiting off the suffering of these people?” It seemed he couldn’t help, was adept at, pushing her buttons. If she were any bolder, she’d have already struck the self-righteous expression off his face.

“I didn’t know about that, I would have never–these are my people but this isn’t the way, the polymer didn’t work and people died because of it.”

“More will too, but only if you don’t do anything.” He tried to reach for her again but she shrugged away, “It could work. Together we could do this.” Tyler’s expression was pleading, his eyes urging her to make the right decision.

“Goodnight, Tyler.”

His

The flight was thankfully uneventful and much easier than her last flight to Oklahoma when she’d been dreading the very idea of her return. There were still memories that haunted the place she called home but now she could rest assured that they weren’t losses for nothing and that she may very well be able to save someone, hopefully many someones, from the same suffering she had endured for years.

Kate dragged her suitcases through the airport and the bustle of people coming and going made her feel oddly comforted. New York was easy to get lost in and for the time, it was exactly what she needed. But it had only ever been a place she ran away to and after a while she was running too fast to ever see it for what it was. Here, in Oklahoma, she was home.

She made her way out to the pickup lanes and was met with a calm blue sky, one that she knew–or maybe even hoped–wouldn’t last. At the five-minute mark, Kate was unbothered. By ten, she considered concern. By twenty, she was on the phone. It took three calls getting sent to voicemail before her mother picked up on the fourth.

“Hey, are you alright?” She tried not to sound too concerned but it wasn’t like her mother to forget an obligation or to not pick up the phone.

“Oh, sunshine, I’m fine. It’s my truck that’s acting up,” Her mom replied. “I was on the road already when it decided to quit on me. I’m not sure how long repairs are going to take. You want me to call someone for you?” Kate sighed, more relieved by her mother’s well-being than bothered by the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” She answered, “As much as you don’t like it, I am a big girl. I can take care of it.”

“I know you can, baby. Don’t worry about making it here tonight, just take care of yourself.”

They exchanged ‘I love you’s before it sunk in that actually did have to take care of it. She found herself a spot on a nearby bench and tucked her luggage in beside her. Scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovered over Javi before something urged her to keep going. Kate wasn’t sure if this was a bad idea but lately, she could handle a little risk.

“Hello?” She bit her lip, knowing this was her last chance to turn back. Still, he might not even be around or available to get her.

“Hey, Tyler?”

“Uh, yeah?” His voice was in performance mode, his uncertainty no match to his inherent charisma. Kate found herself filled with an urgent hope.

“It's Kate, Kate Carter.”

“Kate!” She could hear the smile in his voice. It was the first time she’d called him since he gave her his number and she was just beginning to regret not using it sooner. “What uh…what's going on?”

Her stomach flipped at the realization that she had to explain herself, that she wasn’t just calling him. Oh god, was this a mistake? Kate had thought there was something there when they were saying goodbye but maybe this was pushing it.

“Are you in Oklahoma by any chance?”

“I am actually,” Tyler replied before he, with a hopeful tone, asked, “Are you here?”

“Do you think you could pick me up from the airport?” She fought the urge to cross her fingers like a little girl. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had to call Javi but she couldn’t help but want to see where this path led.

“Of course!” Her chest tightened, a mix between excitement and worry. “Is everything alright with your mom?” Kate’s cheeks flushed, touched by his concern.

“Yeah–truck just wasn’t starting, don’t worry,” She said, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

“Alright then, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” In the background, Kate could hear his keys jingling already and she smiled to herself.

“Thanks so much. Bye.”

_ _ _

Kate had been inside, sitting at a cafe when her phone buzzed in her pocket, Tyler letting her know that he’d made it. She tossed out her empty coffee cup before regathering her things and taking a deep breath. If she was being honest with herself, she was excited to see him but she didn’t want to endure the inevitable teasing she’d be subject to should she seem too eager to be in his presence.

The sliding doors opened and it took her a minute to spot the familiar red truck. Her eyes followed the path to where Tyler was busy basking in the attention of an adoring fan. What more could she expect?

“And did you want this signed cause I could definitely sign this for you.”

He didn’t notice as she siddled up, even with the rumble of her suitcases on the concrete. She shook her head at the display of his ‘Tornado Wrangler’ persona and thought better than to let him off the hook.

With the exaggerated voice of a dedicated fan, she implored, “Oh my goodness! Is that Tyler Owens? I am your biggest fan!”

“That’s me darlin’, what can I do for–Kate.” He cleared his throat and straightened out his posture, putting on the real Tyler at the sight of her. Kate bit her lip, sparing him the laugh that threatened to escape her.

“Tyler,” She said, “You look good.”

“Well, I feel good.” Tyler stood with his hands on his hips, the two of them alone now and it seemed neither of them knew just what to say. She laughed at his remark and began to heave her luggage into the bed. Before she could lift the larger of the two bags, Tyler was stopping her with a hand on her wrist. Kate looked up at him, confused.

“Don’t make me make you get in the truck.” She glared at him, gauging whether or not he was serious. He only matched her expression. “Get in the truck,” Tyler repeated.

Kate rolled her eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. She couldn’t help but lean over toward the shift, running her fingers across the buttons. Her pointer finger landed on the tape labeled, ‘Kate’s Barrels’ and traced over his writing. When the driver's door opened, she jumped at the movement and tore her hand away.

“Headed to your mom’s?” Tyler asked, fingers tapping a rhythm onto the wheel.

“Uh, no actually just any motel close would be good. Home’s a bit far and the flight was long. I just want to go to bed.” She reminded herself that that was the only reason.

“I’m close,” He told her. Since when was he close? “I mean you could stay in my guest room and I could take you back to Sapulpa in the morning?” The idea sounded as equally dangerous as it was appealing. With a motel, she was in control of the situation but his place? There was no knowing.

Clearing her throat she answered, “That…sounds fine.”

Tyler tipped his hat toward her and then he was making his way out of the parking spot. For a little while, they sat in comfortable silence, the radio filling the empty space between them. Once they were outside the city, it was comforting to watch as farmland made up her view. The word rattled in her head again. Home.

“So, how did it end up going with the investors?” He asked. “Good, I assume since you’re back in Oklahoma.” Kate couldn’t help but smile knowing well enough already how happy he’d be to hear. Not to mention how happy she was to achieve something she’d been chasing since the possibility entered her mind.

“Yeah, it went very well actually. We uh–we got a lot of people interested and the offers were so good…I quit my job and sold the apartment. I’m back, back.”

Tyler’s smile grew to a million watts as he exclaimed, “Kate! That’s amazing!”

“Thank you, we’re really excited.” She thought she saw his grin falter a bit but she couldn’t pin down why. Still, after a moment he let out a whoop, honking the horn at the expense of the car in front of them. Kate laughed, placing her hand over his to keep him from doing it again.

“So, where you planning on living? With Javi?”

“Actually I’m not sure yet. Javi has this new girlfriend from back in Miami and they’re pretty wrapped up in each other.” His eyebrows raised and she continued, “My mom's kind of out of the way too. Plus, she’s thinking of selling since seed prices just keep going up. Says she’s sick of the weather.”

Tyler’s jaw went slack, exaggerating his shock. “Sick of the–Sick of the weather?”

“What can I say, she doesn’t appreciate the beauty of the storm.” Kate sighed theatrically. Her hand went to her forehead in a ‘woe is me’ gesture. He chuckled, punching her playfully in the arm.

“On the topic of prices though, she is right.” Tyler sighed as he turned onto a new street. “That’s why I bought land and started from the ground up.”

“Land?” She repeated. It hadn’t been that long that she’d been gone. When and more so why had he decided to put down roots and outside of Arkansas for that matter.

“Yes, ma’am.” His mouth quirked up in a prideful smirk.

“And here I thought I’d be sharing some shitty motel room.”

They pulled into a long dirt driveway, the grass surrounding it still young. While the house was clearly new, the style had a nostalgic feel to it. It was painted a fresh shade of cream and the white wrap-around porch just screamed summer nights. If she didn’t know better she’d think she was going to visit some sweet old lady.

“Here we are, home sweet home.”

Tyler opened her door for her like a proper gentleman and she stepped out into pleasant fresh air. The whole thing was picturesque. Kate supposed she shouldn’t really be surprised considering she didn’t really know his tastes but the whole thing surprised her nonetheless.

She followed Tyler through the front door as he carried her bags inside. The interior was just as sweet as the exterior had been but Kate could see the signs that were uniquely him. There were various piles and pieces of gear strewn about that she recognized from having filled her mother’s house with. Even with the classic style, the appliances and layout were tastefully modern. She was impressed.

Kate stepped into the kitchen which seemed to be the most lived-in room. There were pictures of the Wranglers and what she assumed was his family stuck to the fridge. Her eyes drifted to a bulletin board hung up next to it and tacked up in the center of it was a page ripped out of their article from Ben, one with a picture of her. She could feel her cheeks flush even with him still in the other room. Though she wanted to, Kate knew she wouldn’t mention it.

“You hungry?” She jumped at the sound of Tyler’s voice.

“No, I couldn’t–” The same look that urged her to ‘get in the truck’ painted his face and she reconsidered her answer. “Starved.”

Tyler seemed satisfied. He pulled out a seat at the kitchen island where she could have a clear view of him whipping something together. The whole thing felt unnervingly domestic but she enjoyed it all the same.

“This place is really nice, Tyler,” Kate said. Gesturing toward his tricked-out home office–that was maybe a little too nice for a YouTube star–she pointed out, “Got a nice setup too.”

“Yeah, the team has pretty much paired off and they live here and there but we come back for a warm meal more often than not.”

“Not you though?” It had crossed her mind that maybe the sudden home ownership had been a response to some sort of serious relationship. She tried to sound casual since it wasn’t really any of her business.

Tyler smiled and shrugged. “Nah, a fearless leader has to hold down the fort.” Kate rolled her eyes and laughed at his cockiness. It was better knowing that it didn’t run deep. She thought better than to push it but still, she wanted to know what this whole thing was for.

“No, but seriously, why a house?”

“Oklahoma is the past, present and future of tornadoes. That’s no secret,” He replied like it was some well-known slogan. Yeah, the outbreak they experienced had put Oklahoma back on the map but Tornado Alley spanned a wide area, including Arkansas.

“How do you figure?”

“Well you’re here, aren’t you?” Her stomach sank, trying to decipher the meaning behind what he said. His focus was trained on the pot in front of him like what he’d said was no big deal. What was she supposed to say to that?

Without an answer, Tyler clarified, “You’ve got better instinct than anyone I’ve ever met, better than any Doppler too.”

He’d turned to her and winked in her continued silence. Kate nodded with a smile like it was casual to her too. She shifted under his intense gaze and thought it was an apt time to break the tension with something she’d been tossing around in her mind. He laid a plate of spaghetti in front of her before sitting down himself. She cleared her throat.

“I was going to wait to bring this up but…I was wondering if you would consider being partners.”

“Really?” The excitement on his face was genuine and Kate could see the surprise too. It made her feel secure in her decision.

“Javi and I both have stakes in it but he’s avoiding the field as much as he can right now. He’s got the business side under control but, like I said, he’s got someone at home who’d prefer he didn’t get blown away.”

Tyler stayed practically frozen in place. Maybe she’d overstepped her bounds after all. She could tell herself all she wanted that she wouldn’t be hurt if he didn’t want to partner with her but that didn’t make it the truth.

“What do you say, me and you?” Kate asked, bracing for his answer.

“You and me,” Tyler replied genuinely and with what she hoped was a hint of awe.

They ate silently, half from hunger and half in consideration of their future. As much as Kate didn’t want to admit it, there were other questions lingering between them. When her plate was cleared, he insisted on taking care of the simple cleanup himself leaving Kate to sit idly at the kitchen table, unable to get anywhere else without his direction anyway.

With the dishes washed, Tyler turned his attention back to her but it seemed he had just as much of an idea of how to proceed as she did.

“So, uh…” She began, uncertain where she was going.

“I bet you probably want to get cleaned up. There’s an en suite in the guest room.”

“Yeah, great.” As much as she wanted to bolt, Kate got up from the table slowly as if she were as calm as could be. Still, she didn’t wait for any instructions as to where to go. She didn’t turn back to look at him as she climbed the stairs, internally cursing herself for adding to the awkward atmosphere.

“First door on the right!” Tyler called after her because, of course, she hadn’t asked.

_ _ _

The warm water had been just what she needed, especially paired with the time away from Tyler to think. As much as there had been a sense of tension between them, her feelings had settled on contentment and maybe even excitement. They were partners now and they had plenty of time to figure everything and anything else out. They’d been through hell already and he would help her through it again.

She stepped out of the shower, her feet hitting the plush bath mat, and reached for a towel. Her hand grabbed only air. Upon further inspection, the towel rack was completely unoccupied. Shit.

“Um, Tyler?” Kate called. She waited a few minutes for his response and when it didn’t come she yelled louder. “Tyler!” She let out a breath when she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Yeah?”

“There are no towels in here!”

“Shit. My bad, no one has used that bedroom yet,” Tyler explained. His feet were already causing the wood floor to creak when he assured, “I’ll grab you one, be right back.”

Kate couldn’t believe this was happening. There was a good chance that she’d expose herself in the exchange. She’d even left her clothes on the bed, choosing to strip before going to the bathroom.

A few minutes later there was a hesitant knock on the door.

“Here, I brought you a few. I don’t know what you prefer,” Tyler said.

She had to assume that he was smart enough not to look. He’d been nothing but polite after all. When she opened the door, his eyes were covered by the palm of his hand, and his other arm was extended out to her. Kate tried not to laugh at the look of him.

“Thanks.”

Kate wrapped the largest towel around herself and used another to dry the excess moisture from her hair. She pulled the door back open, assuming he was gone but she was met with his figure, eyes still shielded. Nearly bumping right into him, she let out an involuntary sound something between a squeak and a groan. Tyler echoed the sound and quickly flipped his hand so he could see her. She had to assume that his subsequent turning around was motivated by her state of undress.

She didn’t know what else to do besides starting to dress. It seemed he wasn’t done talking to her just yet. After a moment, he spoke.

“Uh, Kate…I, uh, realized I didn’t say thank you just then for considering me.”

“Who else could I possibly consider?” She winced at her own words. By no means did Kate want to sound like she was unhappy, she just didn’t want to make it a big deal between them.

“Well, right, I guess there’s not many storm chasers to begin with and especially not ones who’ve studied meteorology.” Kate could hear the slight hurt in his voice even as he tried to tease and she couldn’t blame him. She’d said the wrong thing. She quickly finished pulling on her pajama pants so she could focus on the conversation before she said something else she regretted.

“Tyler,” She said softly. He still had his back considerately turned to her. Like a kid trying to pass notes in class, Kate tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Tyler smiled as he faced her and it gave her the boost she needed to say what she wanted. “You’re the reason I’m doing this in the first place. You believed in me even when I didn’t. We’re going to be helping people and that’s because of you.”

He was shaking his head before she’d even finished.

“You can’t believe that, it's your polymer, your idea–”

She took a confident step forward, the action effectively shutting him up. The closer Kate got the more she angled up at him, his height towering over her. Her hand found its way to his jaw, cupping it gently, her thumb brushing over the stubble of his skin. Before she had the chance to close the distance, Tyler took his chance to capture her lips with his own.

It started slow, hesitant to the possibility of too much too fast but quickly gained momentum as they threw caution to the wind. It had been years since Kate had done this, never quite feeling able to move on from Jeb and the accident but now with a sense of closure and Tyler’s guiding hand she felt ready.

His mouth was eager as their kiss deepened, Tyler’s tongue painting the inside of her mouth, almost as if he was committing it to memory. Their heavy breaths filled the air and neither of them seemed willing to break the kiss as the minutes went on. It wasn’t until her fingers played at the hem of his shirt that he broke off, looking down at her through hooded eyes, his mouth swollen and flushed.

“Kate…”

The sight was too much and she couldn’t help but bring her lips back to his skin. They found purchase at his pulse point, kisses littering his neck as she made her intentions known to him with every touch.

Taking a step back, Tyler’s hands cradled her face and he searched her eyes, looking for what she wasn’t sure but when he seemed to find it a smile broke across his face. It was the same smile he sported every time the wind picked up and the radar lit up red: a man ready to face a challenge.

“You still wanna stay in my guest room?” He asked, though his joking town was limited by his heavy breathing. Kate knew he was teasing but he was just as eager as she was.

“If you keep up with that attitude I just might,” She replied, smiling ruefully.

“Honey,” Tyler beamed, “all I’ve got is attitude.”

A chuckle escaped her lips and his face turned from cocky to sincere before he leaned in to steal a kiss once more. His hands moved from her face to grasping her own as he led her to what she assumed was his room.

Kate struggled to keep up as he held his hands behind him for her to grasp. She held them awkwardly as the unusual position did not grant her a good grip. The playful air gave her butterflies but also made her feel a sense of safety, knowing that things didn’t have to be heavy between them.

Tyler turned, pulling their hands over his head so that Kate twirled around with him. He used the momentum to guide her backward into his room with his hands on her hips, attempting a cheesily seductive smolder. She used her heel to kick the door shut behind them.

Kate walked ahead of him to go sit on the edge of his bed. She could tell he was watching her closely to consider his next move but she enjoyed the idea of playing coy with him. Ignoring him, she took in the space which was surprisingly sparse especially compared to the ground floor.

“Wow, real homey in here,” Kate joked, feigning awe at the blank walls

“Oh, hush,” Tyler chided, “It hasn’t been that long since we finished construction.”

She put up her hands in surrender and replied, “Sure, sure.” He rolled his eyes at her and then his expression became soft again. Tyler walked forward, kneeing her legs open and standing between them. With just a tilt of her head they were kissing again and this time when she grabbed his shirt, he let her take it off of him. Kate paused a moment to take him in, the image one she intended to commit to memory before pulling her own shirt over her head.

The rest of their clothes came quickly but when it was time for her to remove her jeans she hesitated.

“We don’t have to do this.” Tyler reassured her, misreading her reluctance. Kate shook her head.

“It's not that it’s–” She huffed in frustration and rather than continue to overthink, pulled her pants down in one swift motion, hoping he’d move past the interruption rather than linger on the issue.

Instead, his eyes moved immediately to her lower half and zeroed in on her leg…her scar. Kate’s stomach began to churn. She knew that he knew the story but she hated that it had to be part of this moment between them. He had been part of making it possible for her to redeem herself, to make sure the losses were not worth nothing. Still, the memories and the physical signs would never leave her. It made her insecure but if he had a problem with it, this wasn’t worth continuing.

“Is this from…”

“Yes,” Kate replied flatly. She didn’t have anything to prove and she wanted more than anything to move on from this as soon as possible. Tyler looked up from the marred skin on her leg and cupped her face with one of his hands. His eyes were filled with pure admiration.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Tyler’s lips were on hers again as he leaned her back into the bed, his body sculpting to hers. She felt a hand trail down her body, over her ass, before he hoisted her leg over his shoulder, his face turning towards her thigh and kissing over her scar as he lined himself up with her entrance. He looked at her until she realized he was waiting for her cue. She grabbed onto his upper arms and nodded, making it clear she was ready.

He was slow with her, caressing in all the right spots and making sure she was comfortable until he was finally fully inside her and they moaned in unison at the feeling. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time and when he took a moment to brush the hair from her face it made it all that much sweeter so much so that she laughed. Tyler looked at her, concerned but when she kissed him, he smiled into it catching her drift.

As he began to grind into her, he coaxed mewls from her lips, her hips meeting his instinctually at the pleasure. The way he watched her carefully for her reactions made her heart soar. He made it evident that they were in this together, that he cared about making her feel good. One of Tyler's hands still held her leg while the other found her clit, circling it while keeping pace and she couldn’t help the words spilling from her mouth.

“Tyler,” Kate pleaded, “Don’t stop.” He listened to her demand but she could see how it made him falter. His expression was that of awe as if he couldn’t believe that he was here with her, that she was enjoying what he was doing for them. She curled an arm around his neck and played with the hair there in a way that caused him to flush.

“I gotcha,” Tyler promised, somehow pressing them closer together, “I gotcha.”

She could’ve been embarrassed at how fast she came but Tyler didn’t give her a chance, instead riding her out through her climax and continuing to thrust even after. It was almost too much as tears of pleasure pricked her eyes and her moans filled the room. Her hands gripped the sheets, his arms, his hair, anything that she could reach to keep hold of her senses as they were overwhelmed. All she could think or comprehend was Tyler.

“I–I’m close,” He stammered, the tremble in his voice radiating throughout his body, “Kate, I–”

Her vision went white when she came again, though she could hear Tyler moan her name like a mantra, his head buried in her neck. One hand reached into his hair while the other traced absent circles on his back. It took him a minute but eventually, he came back to her.

“Hey,” He said, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Hi.”

Tyler pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, clearly savoring the moment. Kate didn’t want it to end either but she was confident that it was only beginning. They both let out their own versions of a disappointed noise as he pulled out.

When he disappeared into the ensuite, she pulled his comforter up around her, the scent of him enveloping her as well. He came back with a damp towel and once helped her clean up, he flopped into bed beside her, pulling her into his side.

Kate placed a hand on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under her palm. Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She wanted to bask in the moment a bit longer but before she knew it she was beginning to yawn.

The last thing she remembered before she fell into a peaceful sleep was the sweet kiss they shared and the soft rumble of his voice.

“Goodnight, Kate.”

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