#now let them go home to their kids next THANKS

[motorsportbarbie13]

One New Voicemail (Jenson's Version)

your relationship with jenson as told through voicemails

(i'm aware jenson doesn't have twin girls but he does in this. also potential trigger warning for boss/employee relationship? age gap as well. thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl for encouraging my daddy issues with this one <3)

His Daughter Is Sick

“Hey, it’s Jenson.” He pauses, a breathy chuckle cracking over the line.

“You know that, caller ID and all. Sorry, I’m scattered.” He shakes his head. He’s scattered because calling you is always a nerve-racking experience. 

Jenson can’t quite explain why you make him nervous. You’d been working for him for almost a year now, nannying for his twin girls Gracie and Molly but it was like he was brand new at this whole ‘interacting with a pretty girl’ thing. Which was total bullshit. He was Jenson Button, for crying out loud. And you were the NANNY for fucks sakes. 

“I know it’s your day off and you already work so hard with the girls and I appreciate all that you do for them…” Another pause, a quick breath before he pushes it a bit more. 

“And for me too.” The words hang in the air, like he’s testing the waters. 

You’re always willing to take on more with the girls. Saying yes to anything Jenson asks of you. He feels the guilt that comes along with needing someone, but you never make him feel like a burden.

“But Gracie is sick, the school just called.” Desperation is back in his voice. He’s panicking, you can hear it in how quick the words tumble out of his mouth. He loves his girls more than anything, you know that. Know how hard it is for him to ask for help. 

“She has a fever and it’s my week so Mallory is saying this is on me,” Frustration edges into his voice, when he speaks about his ex. She’s nice enough but there’s something about the way she shirks off her parenting responsibilities when she knows you’re around that rubs you the wrong way. 

“But I’m in London today so I’m at least an hour away, I wasn’t planning on needing to be back until pickup. Can you go pick Gracie up?” 

You know how hard that question is for him to ask. How he hates depending on you. You don’t mind. The girls mean everything to you. 

And so does Jenson.

“I’m leaving the city now so you won’t have to give up too much of your evening.” To punctuate his point, you hear a car door slam in the background. An engine firing up. 

“I’m sorry. I feel like I’m always asking you to help bail me out. I’m really shit at this whole single dad thing, aren’t I?” 

You made a mental note to remind Jenson how well he was doing. You knew it probably wound’t make much of of an impact. You were only 25, no kids of your own but you knew the girls. You knew Jenson. You knew how well he was doing with them.

“I appreciate your help…for everything you’re willing to do for the girls. For me.” He sighs, knowing full well there’s more he wants to say. 

So much more. 

“You’re a Godsend, really. I hope you know how much the girls love you. How much you mean to them.”

How much you mean to me, he nearly says. The words are on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill like a forbidden confession.  But that would be wildly inappropriate. 

Wouldn’t it?

“Okay. Please let me know if you can swing by and pick Gracie up.” Jenson shakes his head.

“Bye.” 

Click. 

It’s Late and He’s Tired

“Hey.” Jenson’s voice is low and raspy, a direct result of spending the weekend in Austria commentating for Sky Sports. 

Your heart squeezes at the exhaustion edging into his voice. The moment hear how tired Jenson sounds, you get up from the couch and put the kettle on, wanting to have his favorite peppermint team steeped and ready for him when he gets home.

It’s beyond your nannying duties. You know that. But you can’t help your desire to not only take care of the girls but to take care of Jenson as well. 

“I just landed at Heathrow. I should be home in the next hour or so, depending on how bad traffic is. Hopefully the girls went down good for you. I’m sure they did, they always do. They adore you.”

His girls weren’t the only ones either. 

“Thank you again for agreeing to stay overnight with them for this trip. I hope you know how much you mean to the girls. How much you mean to me.” 

A breath. Was that too much? 

“I don’t know what I’d do without your help.” The words hit like a forbidden confession, twisting something deep in your chest.

Jenson pauses, like he knows there’s not much more to say but he doesn’t want to hang up the phone quite yet. He realizes how much he likes talking to you, even if it’s just to your voicemail. 

What he doesn’t know is how you save each and every message he leaves you. 

“I know it’s super late.” His flight had been delayed getting out of Austria, but you’d known that was a possibility. 

“You can just sleep in the guest bedroom tonight. It’s not a big deal.” 

Oh, but it was a big deal. 

“I don’t want you driving home this late really, and my weather app says it’s going to rain in the next hour or so.” He was scrambling for excuses now, hoping to give you enough reason to stay over. 

It had been a while since he’d been able to spend much time with you, with all of the travel he’d been doing. Not that he should be focusing on that. You were the nanny. Just the nanny. Right? 

“So if you’re not already asleep, please stay.” 

You weren’t asleep. You were moving around the kitchen quietly, making sure the last bits of dinner were cleaned up and the kettle was set on the burner, peppermint tea already steeping for him. 

“It’s just not safe for you to leave.” He reasons, like you hadn’t already decided to stay the moment he’d told you he’d be late.

“Plus it would be a nice surprise for the girls to see you there in the morning.” 

And not just the girls. But he can’t say that. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

Jenson pauses again, working up the courage to ask the next question that’s been sitting on the edge of his mind for weeks now. 

“Maybe we could all go out to breakfast together?” His heart races as the question lands. 

“They’ve been asking to go to that little cafe down the road from the house for months now and I’m just never home enough for us to go.” The explanation stutters out of his mouth, swift and fast like he wants you to keep listening.

“So, if you don’t have anything going on tomorrow morning, maybe the four of us could all go together.” He winces, knowing what this sounds like. Knowing that he sounds like he wants more.

Because he does. He does want more with you. More than the stolen looks while you prepare dinner after he arrives home. More than the late night talks that have become more and more frequent after the girls are fast asleep. More than the lingering press of fingers against hands as you catch up on that day’s activities while the girls unwind in front of the television. 

He wants more with you but Jenson is terrified to ask for it. 

“If you’re not busy.” He says quickly, hoping to save himself from embarrassment if you reject him. 

Jenson couldn’t stand that. Not from you. 

“I’m sure you are, so maybe just forget I asked? Or not. Whatever.” He fumbles. 

You smirk because there was nothing more you’d like better than to spend the morning with the girls who have stolen your heart and their dad, who has also worked his way into your soul. You smirk because there’s no way you’re ever going to forget he asked. Forget how nervous he sounded, how much you wished he’d asked you to your face so he could have seen the blush creep up your neck at just the thought of spending more time with him. 

“Okay. Well, I’m in the car and on my way home. See you soon.”

Click.  

You Both Have A Rare Free Weekend (aka Jenson Button Asks the Nanny Out)

“Hi.” Jenson clears his throat. You pick up on the nerves instantly. 

“The girls are fine, I don’t need rescuing.” He chuckles, palming at the back of his neck. 

“They’re actually at their moms this weekend.” 

Pause. A deep inhale. 

“But you knew that. You did the exchange for me yesterday.” He laughs, nerves fraying at the edges. 

“So, the girls are at their mom’s for the weekend and I don’t have anywhere to be, no races, nothing.” 

Was he really going to do this?

“I remembered you talking bout that Monet exhibit that the National Gallery was debuting this week and thought maybe…” 

Jenson sucks in a breath. Does he risk it? Everything that’s passed between you over the last year flashes before him. The lingering looks. The secret smiles shared when the girls weren’t looking. The way you seemed to always find a reason to stay later and later lately, insisting on helping Jenson with dinner or bedtime or homework. It felt domestic. Serious. Natural. 

“I just thought maybe if you didn’t have any plans, we could go…together.” 

The words hang in the air, heavy and big and dangerous. Jenson knew what he was risking here. Knew that you could retreat behind the professional veil that you wore, even if it was becoming less and less lately. 

“It’s been ages since I’ve been to the gallery and you were saying the same thing the other night. How you never get into the city anymore.” He’s scrambling now, trying to speak over the nerves. 

“I thought maybe we could make a day out of it. If you want. Get an early start into the city, wander around the gallery for a bit and then maybe lunch?” Jenson hates how desperate he sounds. It’s the truth though. He’s desperate for you. 

You haven’t been ‘just the nanny’ for quite some time now. 

“Dinner too, if you want.” 

Jenson wanted to wring as much time with you out of one of his rare lazy weekends. 

“You are just so good with the girls and you do so much for us and…” He’s trying to decide how far to push this. How honest he should be. 

“I just want to spend some time alone with you.” He murmurs, the confession making his chest constrict. 

This was so dangerous. If you turned him down, he could lose you for good. His girls could lose you for good. But he had to try. Had to risk the rejection.

“Fuck.” He hisses, losing his courage for just a moment. 

“I’m sorry, I know this is probably the worst way you’ve ever been asked out on a date.” 

Jenson freezes. What if he hadn’t made it clear enough that he was actually asking you out on a date?

“I’m really rusty at this. And nervous.” He chuckles. 

“You make me nervous.” What was it about you that made Jenson forget how to act? What had happened to the man that just had to crook a single finger to get a girl into bed? Where was that man?

Long gone for you, apparently. 

“Okay. Well. If I haven’t totally fucked up this entire thing, give me a call. I can pick you up any time tomorrow morning…”

Click. 

The Morning After

“So last night…” Jenson’s voice is rough, still heavy with sleep. 

“I genuinely can’t remember the last time I had so much fun at a bloody art gallery. And then lunch. And dinner.” He pauses.  

“And then after dinner…” A smirk collects at the corner of his mouth.

You and Jenson had crossed all sorts of lines last night. Starting with going out on a date with your boss and finishing with…well. It was now Sunday morning and you were just easing your way back into your apartment for the first time in over 24 hours.

“I hope you’re okay with everything that happened last night.” Jenson’s stomach twists suddenly, anxiety gripping at his throat. 

“It felt right though, didn’t it? It did for me. Natural, fun, like this was always supposed to happen.” Jenson would never forget the way you’d smiled at him when he suggested you two go home together. 

It felt dangerous, new, comfortable. 

“You’ve been a goddess in my life since you found us and I know this might be a lot.” The reality of what had happened last night began to sink in. 

What this meant for your working relationship. How badly he wanted this to work with you. 

“I know people are going to talk. Our age gap is going to raise some brows but…I’m willing to risk it if you are.” Jenson imagined when people found out that he had fallen for you, the nanny, tongues would wag. 

He was right, of course. You two ended up being a huge scandal around town. 

It hadn’t mattered.

“I don’t give a fuck what other people say and last night was…God, baby.” He chuckles, easing his way into the nickname. 

Your heart squeezes. Baby. 

“Last night was…” He laughs again, shaking his head.

He wouldn’t have been able to predict how well last night had gone. It had meant everything. 

“I’d been working up the courage to kiss you all night. And then when we were on the couch after the movie and you were right there, you were so close.” Jenson pauses, reliving the moments just before he had pressed his lips to yours, warm and inviting and everything he’d been dreaming about for weeks now. 

“I suspect you kept scooting towards me the entire time, weren’t you? Cheeky girl.” He wasn’t wrong. You smirk.  

“You just looked so warm and cozy and you smelled so good, I couldn’t resist.” The way he’d kissed you on the couch you’d already spent so much time on was something you’d never forget.

Soft. Tender. Reverent. Like he never wanted the moment to end. You certainly hadn’t.  

“I know this is…not conventional but I want to give this a try.” 

This. You and Jenson. Something that felt right and natural and a little bit dangerous. 

“I can’t get you off my mind.” His confession hangs, heavy and thick.  

“The girls are with their mom until Wednesday.” He says it like an invitation.  

“Maybe we could do something tonight?” 

Pause. He was getting ahead of himself, wasn’t he? Fuck.  

“Too much?” Jenson winces. The last thing he wants to do is scare you off. 

You both were risking so much by giving this chemistry between you a chance to bloom. He didn’t want to fuck it up. 

“Not enough for me, if we’re being honest.” He felt like he was 18-years-old again. Fumbling and dumb.  

“God, I’m in so much trouble with you.” Jenson chuckles, low and thick. It sends a shiver down your spine.  

“Okay, I’m going to hang up now before I really embarrass myself. Call me if you want to do something tonight. Even if it’s just us making out on my couch.” 

Another laugh. 

Click.  

Overheard. 

“Daddy! What do you mean she won’t be our nanny anymore?” Gracie wails. 

You frown at the phone. You can hear dual sniffles, slightly muffled, like they’re farther away than the phone would like. 

“Why is she leaving us, daddy?” That’s Molly. She’s upset too. 

“Girls.” Jenson soothes. “Girls. It’s okay. Really.” He leans over, resting his elbows on the kitchen counter. The girls sit opposite of him, plates of pancakes and bacon sat in front of them for their Saturday morning breakfast. 

“She’s not going to be your nanny anymore because well…” Jenson wasn’t quite sure how he should word this. The girls were young, sure but they were old enough to understand. 

“You know Michael is Mummy’s boyfriend?” 

“Yeah…” Gracie is skeptical as to where this is going. Molly just blinks. 

“Well, she’s not going to be your nanny anymore because she’s my girlfriend.”

Silence. 

“WHAT?” Molly and Gracie shout in tandem. 

“Is…is that okay?” Jenson wasn’t prepared for what would happen if the girls rejected this news. His heart hammered, chest constricting at the possibility. 

The way grins split both of his girls faces instantly set Jenson’s mind at ease though. This was going to be fine. 

“So she’s not leaving us?” Molly asks in her delicate 4-year-old voice. 

“No, honey.” Jenson shakes his head, a relieved smile pulling onto his face. 

“She’ll still be around and taking care of you, she just won’t be your nanny anymore.” 

It had been a tricky conversation but one that had needed to happen. Details were still being ironed out, but this was step one of untangling your professional relationship while your personal relationship with Jenson grew fast and strong.

“In fact, you’re probably going to be seeing her a lot more than you did when she was your nanny. Is that…okay with you girls?”

You couldn’t see it, but both Molly and Gracie nodded their heads vigorously.  

“Are you going to kiss her?” Molly chimes in. 

Jenson chokes on a laugh. 

“Probably.” A smile crinkles at the corners of his eyes. 

“Will she still tuck me in at night?” Gracie asks. She depends on your bedtimes stories now. 

“Of course.” Jenson nods. 

“And she’ll cook us dinner? She’s a lot better at making dinner than you are, daddy.” That was Molly, a serious fan of your cooking.

“If you want her to.” Jenson laughs, full and bright. 

“She loves us.” Molly says solemnly. 

“Yes she does, bug.” Jenson answers, just as seriously. 

Your love for his girls had never been in doubt. Not since the first day you’d started caring for them. 

“Does she love you?” Gracie asks. 

Jenson sways on his feet, the full force of the innocent question nearly bowling him over. 

“Well,” He struggles. 

Your heart stops. 

You do, you realize. You do love him.

“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about that yet.” He sounds anxious and you suddenly can’t wait to confirm what you just figured out yourself. 

“Do you love her?” That’s Molly. 

Silence. 

Jenson thinks. He knew the answer immediately but he’s almost afraid to vocalize it. It’s only been six months since your first kiss. Is this…too fast? Too much? 

“I think so.” He manages around a thick knot of emotion that’s suddenly settled in his throat. 

“Good.” Gracie says. 

“Yeah. Good.” Molly agrees. 

“Daddy…” Gracie starts and Jenson looks over at his daughter. “Why does your phone say her name on it now?”

Jenson’s heart ceases to beat.  

“Bloody hell.” He groans. 

“Hi, honey.” 

Click. 

Checking On His Girls. 

“You fell asleep putting Molly to bed, didn’t you?” Jenson chuckles. 

His hotel room door snicks closed. 

“Or maybe my old man habits are just rubbing off on you and you’ve fallen asleep on the couch already.” He teases. 

You never missed an opportunity to remind him how old he was. He never missed an opportunity to remind you that you were the one that fell in love with an old man. 

“ I just got back to the hotel, wanted to check on my girls.” 

A pause. Sheets shuffle as Jenson sits on the edge of the bed. He glances at your contact photo on his phone. You and him and Molly and Gracie, all piled together on vacation earlier in the year. 

“All of my girls.” 

You’d never get tired of being called his, of belonging to Jenson. 

“I rescheduled my flight to leave a bit earlier from Spain so I should be home before bedtime, hopefully.” He leans back onto the headboard, closing his eyes. 

“If I don’t quit live on air after having to deal with Danica for another six hours.” Jenson groans just thinking about his coworker. 

“Anyway, I miss you. God, I miss you.” He whispers, voice dropping an octave as he mentally goes over exactly what parts of you he misses.

“I’m so glad you finally agreed to move in with us. Not having to say goodbye to you twice is just…lovely.” 

That had certainly been a big step. One that had been nerve-racking and anxiety inducing. One that felt big and scary but natural and like it was the next step all at once. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of waking up next to you.” He muses, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Coming home to the girls was always the highlight of my weekends away.” He pauses, remembering what it was like before he had to say goodbye to you when he got home. 

Now he doesn’t. 

“But you being there too? God, Baby.” 

You’ll never tire of hearing him call you that. 

“Your things being with our things, you being in our family now. The place finally feels…complete. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.” 

Jenson falls silent, reflecting on how much has changed since you came into his life. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve you, but he was never going to allow you to walk away. 

The Tiffany blue box in the far corner of his closet, hidden beneath a pile winter jumpers, was going to ensure that. Jenson was certain of it. 

“I’m going to order room service and eat, I’m famished. FaceTime me later? I want to see your pretty face before I go to sleep.” He grinned, once again looking down at the photo that was displayed on his phone. 

“Okay. I love you.” 

Click. 

[partylikemajima]

Mending Hearts.

A reimaginging of Smoke and Annie's reunion with the idea that she doesn't take him back immediately, that Smoke has to work for it. This is from @margepimpson 's idea list that I was tagged in, thank you so much! Here's chapter 1, chapter 2 for sure (continuing from Annie's POV) will follow but maybe a chapter 3 as far as I can tell. No vampires! No KKK ambush. Just a good time and rekindling hearts 🥺 (love the film in entirety but I'm a sap for romance)

Smoke's heart rate raised when Annie's workplace came into view as he drove in his truck. Parking, stepping out and walking towards the shack, his legs shook a little with the surreal feeling of being back. He heard from people around town about Annie, few kids next to him in Bo's shop whispered about needing to visit 'Miss Annie' to pick up what their mother asked them to collect. Though the 'Miss' part annoyed him, his fault, he promised to buy better rings for the both of them when he gets back, it was relief to his ears hearing about her. On the way to the back, he saw through the front window a figure moving inside and his heart swelled.

Reaching their daughter's grave, he placed the flowers down by it and traced the small hand print on the stone. His fingers tingled remembering the small hand that had held his finger years ago. "Papa's here" He calmed her cries that remained in his mind. From his crouched position on the ground, he looked over his shoulder at the shack's back door and saw it was shut. Either she didn't notice him or she's ignoring him. Smoke raised to his feet and walked up to the door, knocking twice.

No response.

He peered through the screen door and a gap within the main door behind it, seeing her movements at the main table in the center winding up a root. The screen door covered up many details of her but his heart pounded against his chest from laying eyes on her. He needed to see her clearly.

She definitely heard the knock.

He knocked again though, watching her.

"I don't open the door to haints" Her rich, homely voice sent a shiver down his spine. He missed hearing her so much that her words took a second to register.

"You told me haints don't come out until nightfall" He never forgot the many things she taught him, including the make-believe hoodoo. He didn't really care about it but it was her livelihood, and he believed in her. His right hand ghosted over his jacket above where her mojo bag rested on his chest.

She didn't answer and Smoke watched her leave into the room connected to the main area of her shop. Where her stock was usually kept. He sucked his teeth and stepped back down the stairs towards his daughter again. Crouched down by her, he pondered in silence for a while before his thoughts began tangling in his head.

"Your mother won't let me in" He tapped the hand print stone "Send help". The babbling of his daughter echoing in his memories. "She'll listen to you" He continued talking to her.

He knew he took too long to come back. The plan in Chicago went sideways a few times and Stack and him had to reign it in to bring it back on track. He thought about Annie every day, every night, nearly drove all the way back to her one night. Stack kept him grounded in reality of their plan. Being here now, pockets full, he wasn't sure if it was worth it.

But the juke-joint will pay off somehow. They'll make it work. He can provide for his family then.

"Maybe I can-" The sound of her back door opening made him pause his conversation with his daughter and whip his head around, turning on his feet as he stood up straight.

There she stood, holding the door handle on the inside, his view of her clear as the sky. Blue patchwork dress hugging her body sculpted by God. The dreams he had of every part of her kept him going and also made him more insane than he already was before he met her. His feet brought him closer without thinking much of it until he reached the bottom of the steps and she spoke.

"Don't come any closer" She looked down to him with her piercing eyes.

He halted. It hurt but he wasn't going to disobey her.

"You come alone?" Her hand was still on the door, holding on to it as if ready to shut him out for good if he messes up.

"Yeah, Stack is on the other side of town" He held his hands together in front of him, looking up to her. There was silence that hung between their conversation, just staring.

"What you come back for?"

"We bought that ol' saw mill, gonna patch it up, make it into a juke-joint" He kept his composure under her discerning stare, and his fast beating heart. The adrenaline at shoot outs didn't compare to the rush of seeing his wife, let alone talking to her.

A smile played on her face and Smoke tried his best to hold it together.

"A juke-joint" She tilted her head down a little, a habit she has that always flattered her features. "This one of Stack's ideas?"

"Yeah, he figured tonight gonna be grand opening"

Annie chewed the corner of her mouth and rested her free hand on the door frame. "Thought you was done with the Delta, given how you never replied to my letters" Her smile disappearing, replaced by a serious one. "Through with me"

Smoke's mouth parted as his heart leaped to his throat. What the hell did she mea-. "You wrote to me baby?" His voice weaker than he meant to sound.

"Course I did, I was careful, with your plan and all, but I did."

"I didn't get any....We moved around a lot." He looked back and forth between her eyes. "I wanted to write to you but I couldn't risk the trouble we were in, heading back to you"

Her brows furrowed as she kept his eye contact. "You're lying"

That made him mad that she would say that. He placed a foot onto the first step to try and reason with her, get close so he can reassure her but she stood back. So he waited again. "Have I ever lied to you?!" His voice didn't raise but it started off strained. "It was one of my vows, that I never would lie to you"

He could tell she was getting worked up, her chest rising and falling faster and her mouth pursing her lips. It was the sound of kids walking in her front door that brought them both out of their stand-off, she let the screen door hang open and walked towards them. He climed higher and stood just outside the door frame.

"Just this Miss Annie" A small girl held up a jar. "And a pinch of High John". The other girl next to her stared at Smoke.

"Now, don't sell this on the way home, I don't want your mama coming at me crazy later" Annie's voice softened for the two children, gathering some of the High John into a small paper pouch and traded it for money that he clicked wasn't the money that'd work anywhere else.  The wad of real cash sitting fat in his pocket, ready to spend on his wife.

He glanced around the shop while they were discussing a few questions the girls had and realised the place didn't change much from how he remembered. New shelves were added in and Smoke wondered who nailed them to the wall for her. He watched Annie take out the blade from her dress pocket to slice open a packet she pulled from the drawer. Same blade she always carried.

He realised the other girl was still staring at him.

"Miss Annie, who's that man?" She pointed a finger to him.

Annie looked over her shoulder at him, brows raised and he slightly raised a brow back to her, wondering what she'll answer with. "Just someone I know, he means no harm, you can call him Mr Smoke Moore"

The girl with the jar whispered to the other in her ear and the same girl who asked about him had gasped, pointing again to him. "Momma told me you shot Mr Terry and that other guy in the town today!" She blurted out and the other girl smacked her arm shushing her.

Smoke almost laughed if it wasn't for Annie glaring at him, kids always made him laugh. He shrugged his shoulders. "Bo's patching them up" He reasoned and she shook her head, hurrying the children out the shop. On the way out he heard them gossip.

"Momma said Miss Annie was married"

"Mr Moore must of been her husband"

"Momma said the SmokeStack twins rob people"

The corner of his mouth tugged barely into a smile listening to them. First the girl outside of the Chow Family's shop and now these two. All three made him picture what his daughter would of grown up into if she had the chance. The hint of his smile wiped away when Annie approached him again, now more level in their eye contact and closer that he could smell the freshness from her body. Her soaps always had a citrus smell to them.

She gripped the inside door handle again. "Why you here Smoke? What you want with me?"

"We want you to come down to the opening, cook for us" He didn't lie. It was the truth. He just didn't say what was in his heart. She already looked like she wanted to kill him. He'd let her.

"Elijah"

He suppressed a groan of desire at hearing her voice with his real name. His emotions were all mixed up. So much of him is tied to her and he wouldn't have it any other way but it wasn't the time to be horny. Well...if she wanted to....

"It still hurts coming back here, but I told you I'd make so much money we wouldn't have to worry, and I did." His thumb ran over the knuckles of his other hand, maintaining eye contact. "I love you, and I miss you"

Her eyes shake in the eye contact until it breaks and she looks to the floorboards, between where they stood.

One of Smoke's fears before he left her was what if he took too long to come back that she fell out of love with him. When they initially spoke, the fear festered in his mind. But the longer they continued to talk, he knew it, could see it, that she was battling her mind and her heart. She loved him still, but she was hurt. His fault. He took too long.

She raised her head, eyes set firm. "I'll be there" She confirmed.

Smoke lost control a little and leaned towards her but she took a large step back and shut the screen door. "For that crazy brother of yours" She concluded.

She folded her arms under her chest and her hips tilted to the side. They stared at each other again for a moment until Smoke remembered how to speak. "I'll drive you down"

She turned away from him and walked back to the center table. "I don't need your help, I'll ask Grace"

He checked his watch and cursed under his breath at time slipping away from him. If he didn't leave now, it'll postpone the Juke's opening and they were already short on time due to that cracker Hogwood being late. He took one last look at her and turned, walking back down. "I'll see you there Annie, thank you"

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

"So she didn't kill you!" Stack wrapped his arms around Smoke's, squeezing him in a bear hug and Smoke grunted from the force. He held him back by his shoulders and looked over him. "What happened? Is she coming down?" His wide grin glinted with the gold outlining one of his teeth. Smoke shrugged his hands off his shoulders and moved into the barn, glancing around at what needed fixing and where everything would be.

"Why didn't you offer to drive her down?" Stack hovered behind him with his hands on his shoulders again, kneading the muscles. "Did she say no? She isn't coming?"

"She didn't want me to, said she'll go with Grace" Smoke mumbled.

"I'm going by to pick them up soon, dropped Grace off at Annie's house" Bo appeared by their side, staring up at a hole in the ceiling that Smoke was checking out.

Stack cheered at seeing their old friend, Bo pulling him in for a hug "Good man!". He stood back and turned to Smoke again.

"I knew she couldn't resist, I dressed you well so she wouldn't!" He hit Smoke's back and Smoke couldn't help the glare that surfaced, aiming it to him.

"She's coming down to help you, not me" Smoke rubbed the side of his head.

"Really? Her words?" Stack and Bo glanced to each other and then both waited for Smoke to continue but he had enough of the interrogation.

"I'm not doing this, shut up" Smoke marched on forward, figuring out where to go and get away from the two but they trailed behind. He found Cornbread out the back of the barn loading up crates of beer they had smuggled down from Chicago. He greeted his old friend, the taller man happy to see him and asking how he was. They chatted more, helping him carry the crates in to the kitchen area when Stack spoke again.

"Cornbread, how's Annie been? My brother went to see her"

The taller man turned around slowly, eyes wide and watching Smoke. "You-you went to her workplace?" He asked quietly.

Confusion settled on Smoke's face. Why the hell would Cornbread be worried about him visiting his own wife?

"Sure did, what about it?" Smoke stared him down.

"I didn't mean nothing by it Smoke, just that uh..."

"Annie has a rifle" Bo chimed in and Smoke turned to him so fast he nearly lost balance. "Cornbread's thinking why you didn't get shot at".

At that explanation, Stack doubled over and hollered so loud, one hand clutching his stomach and the other smacking the counter top.

[rafedaddy01]

Y/n is rafes older boss (hes about 25shes about 40)

Y/n just caught him taking drug again on the job and well she is about to fire him

He begs" please I cant lose this job I have a family to feed . Isnt there anything I can do?"

So y/n (who has always dreamed about how his massive d she saw in his dress pants would feel inside of her) tells him:f me

So thats how he ends up lying on the table

His pants around his ankels

And his boss riding him

Guys I am so sorry! I got a new phone and lost the password and username to my tumblr 😭 I finally was able to remember it and I am back! I will try to be posting as much as I can and I know I have some requests in my inbox form a while back and I promise I will get to those too! 💕

Power Play

Summary: request

Warnings: explicit context, nsfw, smut

A/n: thank you for this request 🤭

You tangled your fingers in his hair, yanking just enough to make his head tilt back. His red, glossy eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, a silent plea hidden beneath the haze.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Cameron?” you whisper-shouted, gripping his hair and pulling him into your private office. The door clicked shut behind you as you hurried to close the blinds, blocking out any prying eyes. Turning back to him, you gestured sharply to the chair. “Sit. Now.” He swallowed hard, obeying without question, his eyes flickering with something between defiance and anticipation.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair, disheveling it in a way that only added to his charm. “I-I’m so sorry, Miss.—” he began, but you cut him off, raising a finger to your lips, silencing him instantly. His eyes locked onto yours, unsure of what would come next, the tension hanging thick in the air.

“Don’t speak,” you said, your voice low but firm. “Listen.” The command hung in the air, sharp and undeniable, as his gaze remained fixed on you, waiting for whatever came next.

You eyed him carefully, your gaze unwavering as you leaned against your desk, arms crossed over your chest. The movement accentuated your posture, drawing his attention in a way that Rafe couldn’t help but notice. The air between you thickened with unspoken tension, a challenge hanging in the silence.

“What am I going to do with you?” you asked, your gaze unwavering, the intensity in your eyes enough to send a shiver through him. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, an unspoken warning laced with authority.

“Please, you can’t fire me. I—I have kids at home to feed,” he stammered, desperation lacing his words. “It won’t happen again, I swear. I’ll do anything. Please…”His plea was so pitiful that a part of you almost felt a twinge of sympathy. Almost.

“Don’t worry, I won’t fire you,” you said coolly, stepping closer until you loomed above him. You couldn’t help but admire the pathetic look in his eyes as he gazed up at you, the mix of fear and pleading evident in every glance.

“Thank you—” he began, but you cut him off with a sharp look, silencing him before he could finish.

“Don’t thank me yet. There is something I need you to do if you wish to be forgiven Mr. Cameron” a sly smirk spread your lips. “Anything” he said desperately. Your smile widened, “undress and lie on the desk.”

Rafes eyes widened. But when he saw that you were serious his expression dropped and his throat bulged as he gulped. He slowly stood up and started following your instructions, unzipping his pants and letting them fall to the floor with the clink of his belt echoing in his ears he sat atop your desk. You licked your lips as you took him in. Imagining what it would be like to taste him. But that would have to be set aside for another day. You have other plans in mind for tonight.

“It’s simple really” you say nonchalantly as you unzip your dress and shimmy out of it. Leaving you in your matching black panties and bra. “I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna take it” you slipped your panties off and climbed on top of him.

You couldn’t help the smirk that glazed your face as you saw his soft cock start to harden. You gripped the base of it and held it straight as you positioned your already dripping pussy on top of it and slipped down.

Both of your groans filled your office, you sat there for a moment getting used to his size before you placed both your palms onto his chest and began bouncing.

“Ah, shit” Rafe clenched his teeth as he basked in the glory of your pussy fluttering around him, he hated to admit it but in this moment he forgot about his wife, he forgot why he was even in your office in the first place, he just cared about you and your tight pussy, clenching around him and milking him for everything he’s got.

You locked eyes either him as you panted. Moving up and down, rocking back and forth. “We both know this won’t be the last time, Cameron”

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10 @writingroom21 @wtfdudesblog @akobx @obxrafeandjj @romantasyreader2024

[starlighthosh]

idk where to request this, i have a a list of my favorite writers and I thought about you 🥹🥹HAHAHAHA so basically its cheol dating someone back in their trainee days, she was also a trainee but left because pledis cant debut another group CAUSE THEY ARE BROKE. Well there are a lot of videos of seventeen during their trainee era in that melona room and fans saw random videos of her taking care of cheol, since if you saw cheol in that room he was at his rebellious era 😭😭😭 only she can stop him, AND MANY YEARS AFTER ITS 10TH ANNIVERSARY OF SEVENTEEN (HAPPY BURSTDAY TO YOU) and fans were wondering what happened, AND THEY'RE STILL DATING GOING STRONG WOHOOO and only announced it today, no one can stop cheol, she also has a successful career non idol or idol yeah AND THAT'S JUST CUTE HAHAHA

That’s such a long but still such a fun request🫡 and thank you for choosing me for this🫶🏻

Definitely took me a while to write it, but I hope you still enjoy. Happy burstday to you too:)

melona memories - c.sc

extra warning: idol!reader, secret relationship, established relationship

The first time fans noticed you was in an old video with bad quality from over a decade ago. You were just kids with great goals and Seventeen was still just a dream.

You weren’t actually supposed to be in the shot, the focus was meant to be on Seventeen practicing, dancing, sweating, laughing. But you somehow still made it into the video. Only slightly, but enough for fans to go crazy about it. You were kneeling down next to cheol, handing him a water bottle and brushing the fringe of his sweaty forehead with a towel, tender like someone who knew him better than anyone else.

“Who’s that girl with cheol?” “She’s the only one he ever let scold him😭” “That’s the girl who left pledis!!”

Now it’s been ten whole years since seventeen debuted. Back then you were watching them from the shadows, the quiet corners and the seats of a concert, letting them shine while you built up your own success. You debuted a few years later under another agency, making your own name as a soloist. But cheol has always been the guy you came back home to at the end of the day.

You never stopped dating since the trainee days. Not when you left the company, not when you debuted years later and not when he grew to be the leader of thirteen boys, carrying the weight of a whole fandom on his back. In all the chaos, you were his peace.

“Are you sure?” you asked that morning, your voice groggy as you sat up in bed. The tweets have gone viral overnight, both of your phones exploding with messages from several people and fans. Cheol was scrolling through the fan edits, a faint grin playing on his lips while he watched the fans piece the puzzle together.

“They figured it out anyway” he replied, turning the phone to show you the edits of the same video with a dramatic zoom into your face. You laughed, leaning against his shoulder. “They will go insane when they find out you’ve been hiding me for all those years”

Seungcheol pulled you in, his voice gentle. “I never hid you. Just protected us”. You knew that, he never made you feel like a secret just once. Instead you were his safe place from flashing cameras, pressure from the company and the weight of being a leader. But now it felt right to show the world what you two have been quietly nurturing.

The company obviously was hesitant about it. “You’re both active idols. It’s seventeens tenth anniversary. Think of the timing and the fans”. But neither of you really cared this time. No matter how much hate you would get, you could make it through it. Together and separately.

So you made it official. A picture of two hands intertwined. You wore a silver ring and fans could remember a familiar bracelet on the other wrist. No tags, no caption.

Seungcheol followed an hour later with his favorite picture of you two. It was from the night of his birthday two years ago. You didn’t know you were being photographed, which makes the picture just so much more authentic, laughing and enjoying each others presence without any fears.

“From the melona room till today, still my favorite person. My peace🤍”

The internet exploded. Fan theories, clips of soft smiles and eye contact all pointing back to you. The best part though was that everyone was happy. They weren’t mad. They could detect the love you two have been sharing for so long with great care.

Later that night, when the world quieted and the sun set from the loud day, you found yourself in your shared apartment. Legs were tangled on the couch and two bowls of ramyeon between you. “You never thought we had to announce it, hm?” you teased. Cheol smiled, lazy and content. “We didn’t need to, but it’s cute they figured it out anyway”

You placed your bowl down and leaned into him. “Ten years already. The time just flew by”. He nodded. “Yeah and you still make me feel like it’s just dumb teenage love” cheol mumbled, removing little strands of hair out of your face. You giggled, looking up to meet his eyes. And he kissed you, soft and grateful.

In this loud world that never stops spinning, you’ve been the only constant.

[evil-by-noon]

Agoraphobic Caretaker.

Whumpee dragged themself into Caretaker's front yard to hide behind their walls.

They thought it was unoccupied- it used to be a group home or orphanage, but there are no kids there anymore- many of the windows have been closed and curtained for at least a year now.

Caretaker finds them by chance after sunset when they notice the gate is ajar and assume the wind blew it open. When they realize it's not broken, they get REALLY nervous-

Only to find what's basically an injured animal passed out behind the wall next to the gate.

Oh, now this is right up their alley.

They're not a pushover- Whumpee is hurt and traumatized, but also stubborn as hell. Caretaker knows how to wrangle them without going too far- Whumpee actually appreciates it. It makes them feel normal.

Caretaker even helps Whumpee train and get their strength back. Caretaker is quite strong themself. Even when Whumpee has recovered more, they still have night terrors and flashbacks- Caretaker doesn't have any trouble subduing them when they lash out.

But Whumpee notices something strange. Caretaker absolutely REFUSES to leave the grounds. They check the gate multiple times a day, someone drops off necessities every few weeks in exchange for some herbs Caretaker grows. Nothing is preventing them from leaving, right?

They're a little reluctant to let Whumpee leave, but just a bit. Whatever.

So, cue Whumper coming back for Whumpee.

They don't step foot on Caretaker's property- that'd be dangerous, and besides... They don't have to.

Caretaker walks Whumpee up to the gate when they leave to buy the weekly groceries they've been going out for. Whumpee pulls down the hood of their cloak and waves goodbye-

As usual, Caretaker's heart skips a beat when Whumpee steps over the threshold.

But this time, Whumper's people pile on him the moment he steps into the street- they were hiding behind Caretaker's walls...

Caretaker manages to grab one who got too close and another comes over to assist, but both get downed pretty much instantly. Caretaker throws them at the ones attacking Whumpee, but it's too late- Whumper has Whumpee in their grip.

Caretaker is shaking. They're a step behind the gate.

Whumpee is confused. They were protecting Whumpee, right? Why...?

Whumper laughs, stands just out of reach, taunting. They point at a scar on their neck.

"What's wrong, Caretaker? Come get them. We both know I could never win against you."

Caretaker takes a step forward, but what's wrong with them? They're pale. Their palms are clammy, they keep grasping and ungrasping their fists, opening and closing their mouth.

"Help-" Whumper squeezes Whumpee's neck.

Caretaker clutches their chest, they feel cold, their heart is beating so hard but it feels like it'll just stop any moment now. They're shaking. They try to still themself, but their muscles spasm without their permission. They have to crouch and lean on their knees, staring at the ground. At Whumper and Whumpee's shoes.

They take a step back.

Whumper chuckles and sighs.

"So predictable. Nice to see you're the same as ever, Caretaker. Thanks for nursing my poor Whumper here back to health for me. I'll see you around, hm?"

And drags an uncharacteristically crying, begging, and confused Whumpee away with them.

[trips2saturn]

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

did every hero really follow endeavor's plan during the jail break? I've never watched bnha, but I always figured there were more heros then Japan knew what do with. Was endeavor really just that worried about how the fight again AFO would go? and did AFO have the league with him? or other prison escapees? Given eraserhead was so entrenched?

As a preliminary matter--yes, it was way more than AfO. The League basically did what they did during the USJ arc and subcontracted their violent attacks. They needed a big force to first get AfO and everyone else out of Tartarus, and then they made it very clear (via loudspeaker and also fucking tweet) that they would all be very peacefully retreating while all those criminally insane and violent motherfuckers went that other direction. Ball's in your court as to how you want to tackle it.

AfO was the biggest threat, by fucking far, but it was far from isolated to him. It was the entire League of Villains + Their Very Special Friends. It was the kind of force that would be required to make the entirety of Tartarus fall for the first time in history. So the heroes had plenty to keep them busy.

And as to whether Endeavor was that scared about the next fight with AfO... Yeah.

I think bnha does a good job at establishing that All Might and AfO just exist at entirely different levels than every other person alive. Their fight leveled a decent chunk of Kamino. And I think that's kind of power and devastation is hard to conceptualize as like, people in a world where we don't have to worry about superhero fights. (as a side note--Sukuna's Big Fight in the Shibuya arc from JJK did better than any other fight in media to really capture the sheer cosmic horror of being caught as a bystander in one of those fights).

But endeavor saw it. He was there for AfO’s and All Might’s last fight. The gods were fighting. Everyone else was just an ant.

He is facing the villain that ultimately took down All Might. All Might won Kamino, sure. But he didn't get up again after. He was permanently and irreversibly taken out of play. And Endeavor has spent the last year feeling like he was struggling to be even half of what All Might was with two hours of productivity a day. He was so consistently voted to not be able to compare to All Might that he bought a wife and had four kids about it, all of whom hate him actively.

He does not think he is winning this fight. He is Japan's number one hero. The responsibility is going to fall to Midoriya Izuku to him. He is the best they have left, and the fight that would be coming was one that already nearly killed All Might, the one guy he has never ever been able to compare to. And when he really looked himself in the mirror and asked if he could stop AfO, the answer was no.

And it wouldn't just be AfO if he came back to power. It would be his followers--and he was liable to get more than just the current League of Villains roster. It would mean more Nomus. They could barely handle one Nomu--how could they possibly handle the Nomus, and the LoV, and AfO?

And the answer that he came to was that they couldn't. Not without All Might.

He thought he was sacrificing Yokohama for every single other city AfO was going to level if he had time to grow in strength again. He thought that if they threw absolutely everything they had at him while he was weak, then maybe they could contain him and the League before entire cities fell.

So. That's why he came to that decision. Why did every hero fall into line?

So what’s key to what happened here was it was this complete structural breakdown at exactly the wrong time.

Structural Flaw #1: Transportation

Was it every hero in Japan that responded to Endeavor’s order? No. But not every hero in Japan was available. Any heroes out of the immediate area were too far away to do shit.

But it's a massive crisis. Heroes would commute from all over if they could--but it's not about desire, it's about time and resources. With how imminently emergent the threat was, a lot of far-away heroes would need something like a jet to even conceivably get there in time.

Who is sending the jet?

Let's pin down what heroes could, conceivably, get there in time. Very few heroes are in walking distance. How do heroes typically get from Point A to Point B?

Hero society in bnha is an agency model. There is no communal pool of resources--you have what your agency has. You have a jet to transport you if your agency has the money for one, and I’m pretty sure only all might had that (he has since had it dismantled and the parts repurposed for the sake of the environment. He only had it to begin with so he could quickly respond to imminent threats. All Might thinks there's more than one way to save the world and saving the environment is part of it). Like. We even saw Endeavor flying fucking commercial.

But let's just assume, arguendo, that some agencies have jets. It would have to be the very top agencies to possibly afford it.

All of whom are shown in canon to mostly operate out of the same area. So they're going to have to send the jet somewhere else to get more heroes. Now any travel time is doubled. If they do send it out, how many people are they realistically getting? Are these heroes in multiple different cities? That's more travel time then. Maybe we just land the plane in Kyoto and whoever gets on in the twenty minute period while they're refueling is who is coming back. We'll hand them parachutes and kick them out the plane door over Yokohama. Okay. Good plan. Go team.

Who is sending the jet?

Like, who is physically making the call to send the jet? Who do they call? Do they just start ringing around their buddies and seeing if they have other plans? The city is on fucking fire and we need people fighting now, so the big name heroes don't have time to organize transport with other agencies. They’re not even thinking of that right now. Make it a sidekick's job.

They are all on fucking strike.

Fuck it. Fine. Make it an admin's job. There has to be some kind of office staff who can work a telephone who's available.

Who is thinking to send the jet?

Admins are not making strategic calls about where the company jets go. There would have to be some kind of protocol in place or someone with the authority to send the jet would have to think of it in the moment. And I guarantee you this would not be the case.

Because this is a society where they have canonically semi-privatized public safety and put people in direct competition with each other over it.

ASIDE: The Economic Structure of Heroics and Why It Sucks

I have an economic structure. You must listen to it. I promise it is relevant. This is why it takes me forever to do things it's because i get too deep into the weeds and have to explain the fucking economic structures underpinning the analysis for my nonsense to make sense.

How the fuck do heroes get paid?

I have no idea if canon ever tells us because to be so for real with you guys I have not watched this show in years. I haven’t cared about canon since the Shie Hassaikai arc. The fucking YouTuber arc broke me. I literally never watched it again. If they ever explain to us how heroes get paid I do not know and I do not care. I refuse to go back to canon. Everything I found out about canon after the Shie Hassaikai arc, I learned against my will. The ending to this story was so fucking stupid and I only have a scattered knowledge of the details but I’m still right. If canon ever tries to explain it then please do not tell me, I refuse to learn more things about this show.

But I still like poking around the potential economic structures based on the part of canon that doesn’t cause me psychic damage. So here’s the thought process for the economic underpinnings of hero society in the pez universe.

From canon, we know it can be an enormously lucrative profession, we know that it involves some degree of private interests (re: merch lines), and we know that there are some people who cannot have merch lines (Underground Heroes, e.g. Eraserhead), so there also must be some kind of public funding aspect to it as well. So. Who the fuck signs your paycheck?

Sources of Funding

a. Public Funding

There must be some kind of official governmental budget for heroics. Like. They are very much a public service. There would be no way to have a fully private heroics force without government funding. What else are you supposed to do, fucking Venmo heroes after they save you? Do they put your kitten back in the tree if you don’t have enough.

In my mind, there's public funds allocated to heroes as part of a city's budget. That funding is allotted based on the number of employees in a given entity balanced against the confirmed acts of heroics of that same given entity. There’s a base salary level and that can be increased based on how successful you are, but salary isn’t exclusively what this fund is for. The heroic entity (an individual hero or an Agency) is effectively receiving grant money from the government to run their agency. You put it into salaries, gear, office space, everything. The government is basically investing in heroes, and it’s investing more in heroes who are shown to have a greater positive impact on society.

It involves overly complex calculations regarding the scaled difficulty of a given bust/rescue/act and ranking of the villain (if there is one) and the overall public benefit for the service rendered. You get bonuses for having a lower average property damage, for contributing to community building projects, that kind of thing. It is Complex. There is a lot of paperwork that has to be submitted to strange and vaguely threatening government accountants. When Mirio and Izuku start their agency, they will burst into tears multiple times trying to figure it out once filing season rolls around, bundle all the paperwork in a Massive Tears And Shame Package, mail it off to the shadowy powers at be, and then get a perfunctory notice that they are getting a ludicrous amount of the city budget allotted to their dinky little agency for the upcoming fiscal year because they are Big Fucking Heroes and enormously good at what they do and it reflects in their stats. They will then lay on the ground of their haunted fucking office and stare at the ceiling for a very long period of time.

But this puts the heroes in competition with each other. Your public funding is chained to your stats under this model. There's only so many criminals out there--you've got to get the right numbers or it cuts into how much of a slush fund the agency is working with.

It's sort of an insane model for a public servant position, but I think it matches with what canon shows us. Imagine having firefighters pitted against each other. like, having a competitive model for public safety raises extreme concerns about how it incentivizes public servants to act.

But this isn't canon's model. It's my guess as to how canon works based on the hints i can remember and my own mental illness. So why do I think canon suggests a model like this?

It's because 1) canon does establish that heroes are in competition with one another and 2) this kind of model would likely be necessary due to the level of autonomy that heroes have.

The literal first fight we see involves heroes in competition with each other. Kamui Woods is doing a big Ultimate Move, and Mount Lady rushes in and steals the show. Like. that is crazy behavior if we are looking at this through the lens of a typical public servant. Imagine you're trying to get directions from a park ranger and a different park ranger kick flips in with a map and a desperate need for you to get your directions from them instead. You call poison control and they’re beating each other in the head over who gets to tell you you’re dying.

Still, on its own, the competition isn’t dispositive, because the private income streams (we'll get there) would incentivize competition even if public funding wasn't based on it. But the level of autonomy that hero offices exhibit also suggest some kind of competition model.

Heroics agencies are not run like a typical police force or fire station. With most entities that function as first responders, they respond to some kind of centralized force (like 911 call centers) and they have highly regulated resource distribution. Like, police forces are restricted to a specific jurisdiction. Within that jurisdiction they have multiple districts and officers typically stay in their district. They're not going to a different fucking city because they think the crime is cooler there.

But Endeavor does exactly that. He's like "hello, son who hates me. Let's go to Hosu because I want to fuck with the hero killer for street cred. won't you come along. It is non-optional" and todoroki says "i hate you father and will abandon you on our father son trip to set a serial killer on fire with my mind. it will be for mildly gay reasons."

These agencies aren't a centralized public service. They are all just off doing their own thing. They're not responding to specific areas as allotted to them by the city--they just fuck off and do whatever. Like, there's probably some coordination between agencies as to who is covering what patrol, but it likely would be more out of courtesy than formal requirement. People wouldn't step on each other's toes nearly as much if there was more of a structure to this.

Typical public agencies who receive funding in accordance with staffing and budgetary needs have more structure and formality than is exhibited in canon. Heroics Agencies act like they're all independent contractors. They probably function like grant money recipients, where they're all fighting for the same pool of funds. You have to write in and show why you deserve that money when that's the case. They're in competition with each other.

Like, is this definitively the structure in canon? No, of course not. I have no fucking idea what, if anything, canon has going on. But it definitely fits with canon.

b. Private Income Streams

We know from canon that it can't just be public funding. Izuku alone probably paid for the Mighty Agency private jet with how much fucking all might merch he bought. Canonically, heroes have merchandise lines, branding deals, commercials, everything. All Might had fucking movies made about him. Those are all extremely lucrative income streams--and likely where the richest heroes get the biggest brunt of their income.

In order to get this kind of income, you are necessarily in competition with your fellow hero.

Public attention, spending money, screen time, all of it--it's a limited resource. You have to be the person who gets to the fight first, who does the big move, who saves the day. If it's someone else? Then that's another kid buying their action figure instead of yours. Heroics is heavily commoditized in canon, and that inherently invites competition.

2. Distribution of Funds

So now that we have a theory as to where the money comes from, how does it get paid out? Based on canon, it comes down to a structure of (a) Independent/Underground Heroes and (b) Agencies.

a. Independent/Underground Heroes

I can't actually remember if the word "independent" is said in canon or if I came up with it, but I think canon implies its existence. It's basically the same thing as being an underground hero, but you're still a Spotlight hero. I also cannot remember if the underground/spotlight thing is canon or fanon or what I’m sorry I haven’t watched this show in years.

Independents are spotlight heroes without the backing of an agency. They just go out every day with the clothes on their back and a dream. They have no support staff, no back up, and no one to help them if things go sideways.

It is not a popular employment option.

Part of it is because it's that much harder to fund being an independent. Like. Say you're just out of high school and you decide to strike out on your own as independent. You're still spotlight, so you can have a merchandise line, and that'd be a nice income stream while you're just starting out.

How the fuck do you start your own t-shirt line?

How do you make contracts with the manufacturers? How do you make and copyright the design? how do you sell the stupid things? Do you try and get them in Walmart? Do you start an Etsy? Your own website? do you call your mom and cry when you have 500 ugly t-shirts with your face on them that no one wants to buy and they're taking up all the space in your studio apartment.

Agencies have preexisting structures in place to help launch these kinds of options, which is one of the reasons why they're so attractive for baby heroes just starting out. The only reason why Mirio has merchandise is because he decided that he didn't care and didn't need to make merch and Izuku came after him with feverish crack addict energy because he cared and he needed Lemillion merch like. yesterday. All Might ended up getting his agency to start a lemillion line. Mirio gets the profits with a reasonable fee to the Mighty Agency. To this day he suspects that Izuku is 70% of his sales but Izuku denies this fervently, like a liar (he actually has a small but very devoted fanbase who rabidly support him and buy all of his merch. he would cry if he knew this. Still. Izuku is his biggest fan and buys literally every single piece of new merch in triplicate.).

Underground heroes are in the same boat as independents but they don't even have the option of a merch line. They exclusively get public funding unless they're backed by an agency, which none of them are because agencies have a tendency to fuck them and their busts for the sake of the spotlight. All underground heroes are bitter and culturally opposed to agencies.

On that note:

b. Agencies.

This is where by far the most heroes would end up. But an agency is like thirty dudes with the same joint bank account. How does the money get there and get distributed out?

i. Public Funding in an Agency Context

Take the above model. How do you attribute public funds based on personal statistics if there's no single person? Does everyone get their own check? But that wouldn't make sense--this isn't just for salaries, it's for funding the actual heroics itself.

Everyone under the same agency would be counted together for the purposes of funding allotment. If Sidekick A managed 300 busts last year and Sidekick B man managed 350 busts, then congratulations, The Big Hero Hero Agency made 650 busts last year, here's a check made out to the agency, figure out what you want to do with it.

But what about incidents that involve multiple heroes from the same agency? Let's say that The Big Hero Hero Agency is involved in a big bust. It is Sidekick A's baby. They have spent months doing this. This has been blood, sweat, and tears. When the day comes, they are joined by Sidekick B, Sidekick C, and Big Hero himself. Sidekick B has been helping Sidekick A for the past three weeks on this case. Sidekick C got called in the day-of to help.

Big Hero showed up for the last twenty minutes of the fight when they were mostly done with everything.

So. You're filling out the post-arrest paperwork. For funding and for public statistics, you need to make sure to properly account for who gets credit for the bust. It has to be one person--if you had everyone individually credit themselves for the bust, then it looks like you've resolved four incidents instead of one under this financial model. it's artificially inflating your numbers for public funding. that's fraud. Who should get the credit: Sidekick A, Sidekick B, Sidekick C, or Big Hero?

Well, there's nothing stopping Big Hero from writing their own name. So let's go with Big Hero. He helped.

This was one of the big sources of the sidekick strikes: a lot of agencies had an absolute policy of attributing successes to the name hero if they touched the case at all, because there was no rule against it. It was better for the agency, after all--unrealistically high numbers on the biggest name meant the agency as a whole appeared more successful.

So there were a lot of heroes artificially inflating their stats with things that were more properly credited to their sidekicks. Which made it all the harder for sidekicks to leave because their stats were shit because their boss was taking credit for their work.

ii. Private Funding in an Agency Context

But that’s just public funding. How would agencies distribute private income streams?

Big Hero Agency is proud to announce its newest line of Big Hero Action Figures, featuring the Entire Big Hero Team, now retailing for $39.99. Get it now from a store near you.

So. An agency is selling an action figure line featuring Sidekicks A, B, and C, as well as Big Hero himself. We’ll round up to an even $40. How do we split up the cash?

You can’t give everyone each $10. You have to first pay the suppliers, the advertisers, the trucks that shipped the toys to the store, etc. Then you have to pay back into the agency to fund miscellaneous expenses—the stationary, the insurance, the coffee in the fucking break room. Everything. By the end, there’s only $4 of profit left over. Not great, but hey—they’re selling a lot of toys. So if they each get a $1, then it should add up quick.

Right. But. If you think about it, people are only really buying it for Big Hero. He’s the best hero of all of them—his name is on the agency, and just look at how much higher his stats are. So it’s only fair that he gets $3.70 a toy and the rest of them can get $.10 apiece. Don’t worry, it’ll add up quick.

Not all agencies would have been like this. But a lot of them would be. Money is a hell if an incentive to screw people.

END OF ASIDE.

With all that in mind—why would they feasibly have a structure to fly in help from other heroes far away? That’s their fucking competition. Sure, we have team ups, but they’re all either well in advance or in the heat of a moment. If they are in the heat of a moment, half the time the heroes resent it because they just stole their fight. They’re gonna what—pay the exorbitant jet fees to fly in someone who’s just going to steal their hard work in the eyes of the public?

Okay, but what about situations like this? Massive emergencies where you need more people?

Those haven’t ever happened before. They had All Might.

So. The heroes on the ground calling in help are out. What about the heroes who are close enough to make it there by ground transport? No one calls them, they just show up out of public need. How are they getting there?

Trains are out. All the trains into the area are shut the fuck down. We are not giving the freshly escaped villains a bullet train to the rest of the country. Same thing for buses. No fucking bus driver is making their regular route into a fucking battleground.

Private transportation it is. Anything more than a few hours out of the area is completely out of the question. Like, good ol’ Manuel from Hosu City and all his buddies? Not making it. The wild wild pussycats? Watched this on TV from their mountain home. Gran Torino? On FaceTime with All Might, who is watching the fight with Midoriya Inko’s hand gripped in his left and Bakugou Mitsuki’s hand gripped in his right. Gang Orca? Twelve hours away and on a fucking island so he needs a boat AND a car to get there. Or he just fucking swims.

But there has to be at least some hero that saw this happening and heroically climbed in their Mazda sedan to make the three hour car trip. Why didn’t they go to the fight in Yokohama instead of the one against AfO?

Frankly at that point those literal children were visibly doing way better than the actual heroes were faring and any heroes showing up went where they were most needed and uh. It wasn’t by the kids.

If we have the agency model as given to us by canon, then that means there is a decentralization of resources. If you want to utilize your public defense force in the case of emergencies, then you need a way to fucking get them to the emergency. Canon does not have that. This is a huge structural failing that only wasn’t a disaster sooner because most emergencies required one guy and he had his own private jet. So most heroes in the country never had to even consider if they would listen to Endeavor’s order because they were completely cut off and useless at the time.

So. Now the analysis has been narrowed from all of Japan’s heroes to just the ones in the immediate vicinity of the fight. That’s still a fuck ton of heroes. This is a heavily populated area with a bunch of heroes around. You can’t go outside without tripping over a hero.

Most of those guys were on fucking strike.

Structural Flaw #2: Over-Reliance on and Abuse of Sidekicks.

The vast majority of the workforce had to be sidekicks. Like, just from a business model perspective. Even the smallest agencies we saw had 2-3 sidekicks. Endeavor’s agency had at least double digits, and I think Idaten was at over a hundred or something. We were probably looking at, conservatively, a 1:10 ratio of heroes to sidekicks.

All those guys are on strike.

Okay. But not all of them, right? Idaten already settled and got their sidekicks back. That’s like a hundred guys.

Except the Strike was not isolated to the Tokyo/Mustufasa/Yokohama area. Idaten sent out a lot of their sidekicks to other regions to help alleviate some of the strains of the strike. (As a note, this was not the Idaten sidekicks crossing the picket line. Them picking up the slack for other sidekicks still striking would have helped minimize effects on the public. However, the agencies of the striking sidekicks would have reaped no benefit from this under the compensation structure outlined above. Idaten would have gotten the credit for everything their sidekicks did, so the other agencies would still be bleeding from this while risk to the public was slightly alleviated. Idaten’s entire function in this strike was to set an example for quick settlement and minimize public harm. There’s this entire sub-analysis on Idaten’s internal culture and how it intersects with broader heroics standards that I won’t get into now this is already way too long.)

Idaten is at 1/10 capacity. It has like, ten guys, all of whom have been working say, thirteen hour shifts (voluntarily—again, it was a decision made to try and minimize the public safety risks of the strike while still allowing their colleagues their best chance at improved conditions) daily for the past month.

All of those ten guys responded to Tartarus before Endeavor made the call.

To understand the exact nature of the breakdown, you really have to see the chaos of how exactly this unfolded.

The LoV and their merry band of criminals hit Tartarus. The heroes do not realize at this time that they intend to let everyone out, give them transportation, and point them straight towards the mainland. They think that they’re just there for AfO. That’s still a huge crisis that needs to be shut down immediately, so they call out all of their best. Endeavor responds. Hawks responds. Eraserhead responds. Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, Miruko—everyone in the vicinity who could conceivably respond show up. For a second, it looks like it’s going to end here.

Once the LoV get AfO out of his cell, the entire tide of the battle turns against the heroes. Now everyone’s out. All of those horrible, terrible villains. Tartarus has fallen. They have to make hard decisions. The high ranking, very powerful heroes who are most likely to break the line on Endeavor’s decision? They’re already at the fight by the time he has to make it. It is chaos and something they cannot easily leave.

The LoV’s picked right now because they knew that the heroes were operating at less than a tenth of their regular capacity. They picked right now because they knew the system had structural faults, and if they hit them just right, it would all come down on the heroes’ heads.

But the sidekicks broke strike lines to respond, right? Why do they all go to endeavor’s side?

For one thing, it wasn’t all of them who showed up—maybe a third of them were not even in the area any more. It wasn’t malicious, or intentional, or anything like that—they were off visiting their families for the first time in a long time or taking vacation. All of them had spent the past few years being completely overworked and abused by their jobs. They just weren’t there.

So now we’re down to 2/3rds of them who can even try to show up.

A lot of it wasn’t actually made as a reasoned choice. For many of them, they ended up where they did because of all the chaos.

So you’re a sidekick. You’re on strike. The entire world has gone to shit. How do you normally find out about the world going to shit?

This is a competition model streamed through individual entities. There’s no central command structure. Your agency calls you.

Well, your agency either fucking fired you or they cut you off completely during strike negotiations. This time, you find out through the news when the story breaks. Now what?

You frantically try to get in touch with your (ex) agency. Who is picking up the phones?

No one. That was your fucking job before you went on strike.

I used to work at a government public-service type deal, and let me tell you, they abuse the fuck out of non-unionized workers. You are doing everyone’s job. No one ask why we don’t get more support staff because they have unions. Like. I had a law degree. I was hired to be a lawyer in that office. They had us all doing the jobs of four people, and by that I mean it would be the literal entire job description of another fucking position in that office and we were all expected to just do it too.

Unions incentivize treating workers right. The absence of them opens the door to the opposite.

Why the fuck would agencies hire more people to lighten the load on the sidekicks and let them focus on actual heroics? Just make the sidekicks do everything. What are they going do, complain? They’re a dime a dozen. Hire more of those fresh faced kids with no standards just out of school.

You know when you had a job where you’re like. This fucking place is going to fall apart without me. But they treat you as disposable and easily replaceable and you’re like “okay bet” and so you leave and you find out from the people left behind that it actually fucking fell apart without you and you’re just like :o

Yeah. So that happened.

There has been a massive break down in the function of heroics offices for the past month and change because the sidekicks were not there. They were the ones who actually did most of the day to day handling of the office. They were the ones coordinating transport and figuring out the actual mechanics of who would be deployed where in a crisis. All those things that would be super helpful now? Yeah, those guys aren’t there, and they’re locked out of the fucking offices and can’t get in to un-strike for the sake of societal crisis.

But they know where the fight is. It’s on the news. Why don’t they just show up?

Where’s their gear?

Who owns it?

Heroics support gear must be an enormously expensive thing. It would have to be provided by the agency itself. Literally the only reason why Mirio has gear is because 1) all might would NEVER let his pseudo step son run around without proper support so the man would have bankrolled it himself if needs must and 2) the UA support class has a stipend each year where they can make support gear for active heroes and those heroes get it for free in exchange for free advertising for the students trying to kick start their careers, so he is decked out in THE most experimental bullshit from Hatsume Mei Industries (I have this entire side plot where the support class this class year low key became a sort of religious cult haha not really it’s just a joke it’s not really a joke and power loader is afraid every single day when he comes to work he is afraid under the iron clad rule of Hatsume Mei’s weird girl energy and they all decided Mirio was the Tabula Rasa, a figure of prophecy, and I just cannot get into that right now it’s too long it’s too long already. But it’s so fun).

All those sidekicks on strike lost valuable time trying to get back into their agencies so they weren’t showing up to an S-class villain fight in their fucking jammies. Then, when some poor admins figured out what was going on and let some of them in, everyone was frantically gearing up and getting in whatever transport van they were pointed at. Some of them didn’t know they werent reporting to Yokohama until they were already at the other fight. There’s was so much chaos and confusion that very few people had a clear idea of what was happening.

With the sidekicks, some of them never made it, some of them just got in a van and went wherever it took them, and some of them chose to obey Endeavor’s orders. Some agreed with the decision. Some disagreed but deferred to his experience. With how the Sidekick Strike had left their infrastructure, very few sidekicks were able to respond fast enough to make any real difference.

Now for the last possible demographic: the heroes that weren’t on strike and weren’t initially deployed to the Tartarus Prison Break. Why didn’t any of them go to Yokohama?

Structural Flaw #3: All Might was that one kid doing the entire group project for like forty years and some of these people are having to be heroes for the very first time and realizing that they don’t actually want to risk their lives to save people they just sort of liked the idea of this job.

It may be a bit too specific to be a structural flaw but I’m counting it anyway.

So, just to give a bit of a recap: We consider every hero alive in Japan as a candidate for Endeavor’s order. The vast majority of them are too far away to do shit, and there’s no centralized transport network to get them there faster. Toss in those who are dealing with personal medical issues or are away on vacation or just can’t come for some reason or another, and you’ve lost most of the heroes in Japan as respondents. Probably ~80% of potential heroes are culled from this alone.

So we have, generously, 20% of Japan’s heroes left as potential people to respond. ~90% of those are sidekicks on strike. They’ve got hours before they make it to any fight, because of the aforementioned structural breakdowns.

Now we’re down to 2% of Japan’s total heroes.

Some of that 2% were first responders to the initial Tartarus prison break. All the big name heroes in the area. But there can’t be that many top heroes—so let’s say 0.2% of them were at the initial fight.

Now we only have the remaining 1.8% of heroes to analyze.

There have to be a percentage of those who agreed with Endeavor’s call as a tactical decision. If they show up to any fight, they’re going to be obeying his order.

So we only have the ones who disagreed with his call left to look at.

These are small-time heroes. All of the big names are already at the fight. So they are less likely to have flashy Quirks, be especially talented, or consider themselves to have an especially large effect in the grand scheme of things. They have likely spent their entire careers living in a world with All Might.

It has never actually been down to them.

Think of Uwabami. Momo did her work study with her.

Her hero outfit is a fucking evening gown. She spent the entire work study doing commercials and meeting with her fans. She explicitly invited the young heroes that she did because she thought they were cute enough to be in commercials with her.

Now, she’s had some good if minor moments helping rescue civilians. It’s not that she’s never saved anyone.

But all of the top heroes are already committed to the fight against AfO. The current Number One Hero just ordered all her colleagues to report there. And Yokohama has a lot of S-Class villains en route.

And what the fuck is she going to do to stop them? It’s just her. Half of those villains took All Might to stop the first time. She is not fucking all might.

Is this a hero likely to go to Yokohama completely on her own to fight *checks notes* literally the entire prison population minus one guy? The worst guy, albeit. But one guy.

These are all heroes who have never had to be the actual thing standing between society and destruction. There has always been someone more powerful or capable or heroic nearby. Until recently, there has always been all might.

This isn’t to malign them. A decent percentage of them are legitimately well meaning about being a hero. They do good. But when it came to the big, blowout fights, they have always, always, always been the heroes evacuating civilians in the background or performing rescue in the aftermath. It has never been them who had to stand up and do the fight itself.

Every single one of those villains represent a big, blowout fight. And this hero trying to decide if he’s going to obey Endeavor’s order? They are one guy. And they’re not sure if they could even beat one of those villains alone, let alone all.

The reason why no one disobeyed Endeavor’s order was because, frankly, at the end of the day, they did not want to die.

Endeavor’s order signaled to everyone that there was no guarantee anyone would show up to Yokohama. It actually put good odds to the opposite. If you decided “fuck that, I’m going to Yokohama” then you’d likely be doing it alone.

What Class 2-A did was considered a death sentence. People who didn’t know them and their bullshit were shocked that they all made it out alive. These were the worst villains their society had ever faced and it was all of them at once (minus that one guy).

The heroes who were in a position to disobey endeavor didn’t actually think it’d make a difference if they did. They’d just… lose.

Most if not all of these heroes made the decision to become heroes during all mights era of peace. Everything just had lower stakes. Crime was less frequent and less serious. The big fights always had someone there who could handle them, because All Might was there. They’d fight the odd mugger or purse snatcher and help put out fires and go home at the end of the night. They’re heroes. That doesn’t mean they’ve ever truly had to grapple with a life or death fight.

If they went to Yokohoma, they thought they’d die. So they might as well respond to a fight that has a chance. Even if they feel ashamed as they do it. Even if they think Endeavor made the wrong call and wanted to go to Yokohama instead. All Might wasn’t there anymore. And they were afraid.

But there is one thing that Class 2-A had going for them that gave them an advantage over these heroes. And that was the fact that they are all medically insane.

It’s that they were together.

It’s a decentralized heroics structure. If you have a large agency, you are necessarily a top hero because no one else would be able to get that many people to agree to work under them. So you’re already at Tartarus and this isn’t a decision you had to make.

Maybe you’re independent. Maybe you have a small agency with 2-3 people. There is no preexisting centralized line that you can use to try and gather more people to go to Yokohama with you. You’re stuck with your immediate colleagues and maybe a few other heroes you’re close enough with to have their number. You really don’t have time to try and ask around to see if anyone else wants to go to Yokohama instead—you need to pick a battle and get there yesterday.

What good is 2-3 people going to do in Yokohama? You’ll just get massacred and it won’t have made a difference. At least if you go to stop AfO, you’ll have a chance at doing something that mattered.

Maybe you disagree with Endeavor but you defer to his training and experience.

Maybe you don’t go at any fight at all. Maybe you’re afraid. Maybe you became a hero in a time where you had a symbol of peace, and you realize you can’t keep doing it in a time without one.

I think there’s a small subsection of heroes that quit in the aftermath of Yokohama. Because they wanted to disobey endeavor’s order, and they thought they’d just die and it wouldn’t matter, and then dawn came and a bunch of school kids had managed what they were too big of a coward to do. I think the fact that they fell into line when their hearts told them they shouldn’t made them seriously doubt whether they were good enough to be a hero.

But they were alone when Endeavor made the call. And it felt like certain death. And—yeah, it sort of felt that way to Class 2-A when they made the decision to respond. But they weren’t alone when they did it.

They were together. And they always felt braver when they were together. Together, they could make miracles happen.

[dumbbitchgalore]

Soon-to-be Single!Price sending this to his soon-to-be cheater wife to show her how good the new babysitter is taking care of him (🌽 link)

John’s intentions with bringing you into the house as a babysitter were genuinely pure. He wanted you to help fill the void inside his twin daughters’ hearts ripped open by their absent, whoring mother. 

One night he finds himself scrolling through the Au Pair website looking for the suitable candidate and he finds you. A foreigner, good with kids, previously working as a tutor and now currently on a gap year from studying at university to give a helping hand mouth and pussy to families like his. And that is how he brought you into his home. 

John’s wife seemingly did not care, as long as her kids didn’t bother her, she couldn’t care about who’s taking care of them. 

Day by day, John becomes enamoured by you. The way you took care of his kids was pulling at his heart strings, daring him to get closer to you, to get to know you better and possibly become friends so that he has someone to take to. That is his intention, right?

He learns your favourite colour, food, the flowers you like, the designer items on your wishlist hoping to be rich enough to buy them. He memorises your features. Your perfect lips, manicured hands, your prim and proper appearance in front of him is almost like a facade to protect yourself. 

And it is, you try to protect yourself from John, to keep a distance and always be polite with an air of professionalism. You can’t let him know that your head over heels to hear his gravelling voice, to stare at his cerulean eyes or even just to get close enough to smell his cologne. You definitely didn’t want him to think of you as a strange au pair that he regretted choosing. 

Often you and John would find yourselves alone in the home after tending to the girls and putting them to bed and going to the kitchen to enjoy a snack before bed. Tonight, you find John leaning against the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of whiskey as you go to open the fridge. You know, politely acknowledging his presence. 

“Care to share a glass with me?” John’s smooth voice engulfs your presence. 

You turn back looking at him as you give him a soft smile, “Thank you for the offer Mr Price, but-”

Before you finish, he puts his hand up signalling you to stop talking and sighs before taking another sip of his drink. 

“Turning down a man going through a divorce?” 

Your eyes widen at his question, “You and Mrs Price are-”

“That slut doesn’t deserve to be called by my last name.” He says curtly. 

You nod, making your way next to him and pouring yourself a drink and taking a sip, the liquid deliciously burning down your throat.

“I’d appreciate you not telling the girls, I don’t want them worrying.”

“Of course, sir-”

“John. Just John is fine.”

“Alright, John.” You say and John swears that you were a siren in disguise at that moment. Your sweet voice calling his name like a holy man being lulled in by a succubus. 

A few too many drinks later, you find yourself in such a predicament. On the floor, watching yourself in the mirror as you sloppily makeout with John’s cock as he records you. Suckling his head, you drool onto the floor, laving it as your tongue prods at his slit, guttural moans spewing out of his mouth encouraging your ministrations. 

You let go of his tip with a ‘pop’ noise, making your way down his length. Long wet drags on your tongue along John’s veins cause him to shiver in delight, begging his body not to cum too early on. 

His voice cuts through the air of whimpers and wet sucks as John addresses his wife in the video. 

“You could never suck my cock like this and you’ve given yourself wrinkles from the amount of dumbfucks you blew after work.”

John forcefully takes your mouth off his cock, halting the momentum of pleasure inside of him. He grabs your chin harshly, making you face the camera. Your lips red and bitten from his kisses, drool staining your chin as you look at the camera doe-eyed and needy.

“This sweet little thing takes care of the girls better than you do. She’ll be a better wife than you, ya slag.”

[sassatoru]

“Gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

This prompt for Dick having baby fever with his fem!reader after seeing her taking good care of Damian (giving him praises and cookies for example).

Please and thank you!

pairing. dick grayson x reader

warning. smut

a/n. here you go anon

prompts used. “gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

seeing you with damian was normal. the young boy saw you and dick as his paternal figures not that he’d admit it. but to see you doting over the boy. he’d ‘ran’ away from home — you’d already called bruce to tell him where damian is — and to your shared apartment.

first it started with the way you worried when he showed up at your door, a bag swung over his shoulder and his scowl set on his face.

“damian?” you stared down at the boy confused, looking around the hall way where all the other flats and the elevator could be seen.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” your confusion switched to worry almost immediately when the boy hugged you, your arms moving around him to hug him back, gently rubbing his head.

“can i stay with you and grayson?” he mumbled.

“babe? who’s at the door—” dick’s voice trailed off when he saw damian holding onto you for dear life.

“what happened?” dick asks, the worry in his eyes matching yours.

“he needs to stay over tonight,” you murmur, glancing at dick with those puppy eyes of yours that he can’t say no to. he wanted to protest, remind you that tonight is his night off and date night but his heart flutters at the way damian clings to you like a boy would to his mother.

he doesn’t have the heart to say no, merely nodding. “sure baby, he can have the spare room.”

the next time he feels that same flutter of undistinguishable wanting is when you’re making damian late dinner for him, seeing as its midnight and you and dick were planning on a little fun tonight.

the way damian sits at the dining table, finishing his homework — because even if he’s staying here and his school is in gotham he’s still gotta keep up with school — and the way you make something quick that alfred taught you to make before sending damian off to bed.

he’s all over you after that, kissing at your neck, hands slipping under your shirt, you giggle before reminding him that his little brother is in the apartment so fun time is going to have to wait.

so he waits, a week before damian finally leaves, not that dick minds having his little brother around — lies. he does mind, he minds a lot, especially when your attention is being stolen from him.

but even that didn’t stop the way his heart fluttered with every moment you doted over like a mother would, and that’s when it clicked in his mind. he wanted a baby with you.

that’s how you got here. a week later after you’d dropped damian back to the manor, and when you came home you were talking to him about how you were concerned about damian overworking on patrols but he couldn’t hear a word over the hunger buzzing in his ears.

“mhm,” he hummed, head pressed into your neck as you rambled on. “baby, baby shhhh. lets forget about them for minute.”

“dick?” you mutter confused, his hands pressing warmly against your tummy.

“yes baby?” he asks.

“what’re you doing?” you ask.

“touching you, why? am i not allowed to touch my girl?” he replies, moving you towards the bedroom. “my pretty girl, yknow that?”

you hum in response, not sure what had come over him as he gently nudges you back onto the mattress to lay down. “i was thinking, honey. about you and me… and a little someone else.”

you catch the way his eyes drop to your stomach, his pupils blown out so much that his pretty blue eyes look different. “and who’s that?” you ask, urging him on.

“our baby.”

now that does surprise you, you and dick have never talked about having kids together, you’ve barely even talked about marriage but you know enough that he seems to like the idea of both those scenarios.

“our baby?” you question and he nods, a wide smile setting on his lips as he stares down at you hungrily.

“you’d look so pretty, honey. all round and full, full of me, of us. i’d take such good care of you too.”

your cheeks flush at the way he stares at you and the way the compliments leave his lips, like pure honey.

it doesn’t take much longer till you’re both completely bare, with you all spread out under him all fucked out as he ruts against you from behind.

he wasn’t shy with his noises, whining into your ear and groaning too. whispering praises that make you purr. “aw, look at you baby, all fucked and pretty for me to use. you want me to fill you up that bad huh?”

you nod eagerly, stomach fluttering as you spasm around him, face pressed into the pillows to bury your moaning, back arched so prettily it makes him want to never stop.

“good girl, my good girl. you like the sound of being a mommy huh?” he coos, fucking into you with no mercy, mind set of giving you a baby. a part of the two of you to love.

“that’s good ‘cause i’m gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[flofaiiry]

slim pickins ; jack abbot x reader

❝ a boy who's nice that breathes, i swear he's nowhere to be seen ❞

synopsis: a tipsy reader confides her boy troubles to jack, then realizes maybe one of the good men she's been waiting for has been in front of her the whole time. (it's him, he's good men.)

warnings: fem!reader, swearing, alcohol, age gap (unspecified, but jack tells her she's young & calls her 'kid'), reader referred to as a lightweight, reader is on birth control, explicit smut, jack is a consent king, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v (don't do that!!), jack is capital L large, praise, finishing inside

wc: ~3.6k

note: i wrote this in one sitting because the idea just hit me like a TRUCK. this is so self indulgent i cant believe i wrote this but i also love it so much so i hope you enjoy!! as always feedback is super appreciated!!!

"it's just... it's like they don't exist! and if they do they've got a girlfriend already, and who can blame them? i'd scoop up the first decent guy i could lay my hands on too!"

jack listens somewhat intently as you continue on your tirade, downing the last sip of the cocktail you've been nursing. you catch the bartender's attention to ask for one more. "don't worry about it. you're young, you've got time. you'll find someone."

"really?" you pick up the freshly made drink placed in front of you and take a larger then necessary sip, gulping almost half of it down in one go.

"yes, really."

you squint, "i'll believe it when i see it." you down the last of the drink like it's a shot, placing the glass down with an emphatic thunk. jack slides it away from you. "i think you've had enough," he says, matter-of-factly. you frown, "i've only had two." he shrugs, "sure, but you're kind of a lightweight." he's got a teasing glint in his eyes as he flags down the bartender, passing him a credit card.

you take the hint and start to rummage through your purse, searching for your wallet. "don't worry about it, i got it." he says, taking his card back from the bartender. "oh! um. thanks!" you smile. he returns it and you can feel your cheeks heat up.

just the alcohol, right? right.

he nods towards the door, "come on, i'll drive you home." you shake your head, "oh no, i can't ask you to do that, i'll just call an uber, it's really no big deal."

"5th and king right? it's on the way, don't worry about it."

you're not quite sure how he knows your address. you probably mentioned it in passing one day, or in a conversation he overhead, but either way, it definitely doesn't help to lessen the warmth in your face.

you nod, "yeah, 5th and king. thanks." jack notices the way your smile goes from polite to genuine. he nods towards the door again, pulling his car keys from his jacket pocket, "let's go."

you walk next to him to his car. hands in your pockets to hide the way you're fidgeting with a hair tie between your fingers.

the drive to your place is relatively quiet, but not silent, not awkward. he asks you when you work next this week, you ask what made him buy this car.

it's comfortable.

before you know it, he's pulling into the parking lot of your building. he reverses into a spot and does that hand-on-the-back-of-the-seat thing that makes every girl go crazy.

you smile at him, "thanks for the ride." your hand finds the door handle, lingering there for a second. "and for listening to me rant about the shitty men of pittsburgh."

he smiles. "happy to be of service."

you swear if you weren't on birth control that smile alone could knock you up.

"i guess i'll see you tuesday then," you click the door open, however reluctantly. he nods, "yeah, see you tuesday."

you step one foot outside the car before you hear his door swinging open too. you look at him across the top of the car, the tiniest hint of confusion on your face. he just shrugs.

"door to door service."

you laugh. has he always been this attractive? or is the alcohol in your system right now making you see things. it's gotta be the alcohol. right? has to be.

he walks up to the building with you, pulling the door open for you.

when did men stop doing this? opening doors for women. when did chivalry die?

it isn't until you hear a familiar laugh that you realize you said that out loud. damn. you really were a lightweight. two little drinks in and you've already lost your filter.

"sorry, i just mean-" you say quickly, trying to recover yourself. he just shakes his head, "i know what you mean."

that smile again. you swear you could melt into a puddle right now. a mix of embarrassment and confusing, sudden attraction doing you in.

you walk in and turn down the hall towards your apartment. jack follows close behind.

"how long have you lived here?" he asks, following you down the winding, dimly lit hallway. "about three years, i think? it's nice. a little dingy, but it's close to work, and grocery stores and stuff like that." you shrug.

"it's got character." he clarifies. "yeah," you exhale, "character."

you arrive at your door. unit 105. you shove your hands into your pockets to find your key, pulling it out along with the attached string of souvenir keychains.

you slide it into the lock and twist, the familiar clicking sound telling you it's open. you place your hand on the doorknob, tentative, before turning to face jack.

"thanks again, for tonight." he smiles. god he has got to stop doing that. "don't mention it."

"no, really, i probably sounded like a bitch going on and on about my... guy troubles. anyone else would have left halfway through so, thanks."

"don't worry about it," he locks his eyes onto yours. "you're a good kid, you'll find a... what was it you said? a real man?"

you laugh.

yeah, like you?

his eyebrows twitch.

shit.

out loud again.

your hand flies to cover your mouth, "oh my god, jack i am so sorry i cannot believe i said that out loud! oh my- i am so. sorry. i'm so embarrassed, i-" he can't help but laugh, "it's fine, i-"

"no! oh my god, it is so not fine, that is so unprofessional of me, i can not believe i just said that," you're gesturing awkwardly now, trying to somehow apologize for your lack of filter.

he takes your hand in his.

"hey," he says, giving it a small squeeze. "it's fine, really. i'm-" he laughs, eyes finding your gaze again.

"i'm flattered." you take a deep breath. a tiny tinge of embarrassment leaving you finally.

when you're standing here like this, so close to him, his eyes on you like this- christ- him holding your hand. you wonder if he's always been like this. if he's always had eyes this endearing and perfectly hazel, hands so warm and calloused, but not rough.

if he's always been this... pretty.

sure he's conventionally attractive anyone could see that. but in this moment it's different.

he's not just attractive. you're attracted to him.

"can i kiss you?"

he raises his eyebrows just the tiniest bit. "you mean to say that out loud?"

you nod. he just stares at you for a second longer. "i'm sorry- that was stupid, i'm probably-"

you're cut off with his lips on yours, and you swear your legs almost give out.

you take a stumbly step forward, and press one hand on his chest to balance yourself, while also leaning more into the kiss.

it's slow at first, tentative. but it's enough, god, it's more than enough. one of his hands slides up your body to rest on the side of your head, gently pulling you away and resting his forehead against yours.

both of your breaths are slow and heavy.

"we don't have to-" he whispers, giving you an out.

"please."

his next exhale is quick. the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he pulls your lips back into his, this time more sure. you swear you almost moan into his mouth.

he doesn't say anything. doesn't laugh, like other men might, doesn't make a joke about how desperate you are. he just absorbs the sound, and if anything lets it fuel him.

his tongue easily slips into the mix, hand travelling down to your waist and pulling you against him.

you snake your hands up his back and lace them into the little hairs at the top of his neck. not tugging, just there. the pads of his fingers press into your lower back, steadying you to walk half a step backward towards the door.

his free hand shoots out to feel for the doorknob, twisting it once he finds it then pushing open the door. he moves it back to your waist as he ushers you both into the apartment.

"bedroom?"

"first door down the hall." you say, barely pulling away long enough to do so.

god, you can't get enough of him.

you make your way towards it, jack's eyes cracked open just enough to make sure he doesn't send you back-first into a wall. when you finally reach the room, jack eases you back down onto your bed, brushing your hair from your face & crawling on top of you.

"you sure you want this? i don't want you to feel taken advantage of or anything- i know you had something to drink earlier."

you cut him off with a kiss, slow and sure. "i had two drinks jack, at most i'm a little tipsy. i'm sure as hell sober enough to know i want this though."

"you sure?"

"i want this, jack. please. i want you."

with that, he kisses you again with a heat that's new to this whole encounter. a hunger.

his lips part from yours, beginning to trail from the side of your mouth, to your jaw, and then starting their descent down your neck. he doesn't rush, but doesn't take his time either. he spends no more time than necessary sucking the tiniest of marks into your skin.

his hands roam down to the waistband of your pants, tugging your tucked shirt out from underneath it, then sliding beneath the material to your stomach.

he pulls away form your neck and takes his hands out from under your shirt and begins unbuttoning the shirt you're wearing

you're thanking whatever gods are out there for making you wear a button up to the bar tonight.

he makes quick work of the buttons, greedily pushing the material aside to reveal your bra. it's simple, nothing extravagant. it's not like you were expecting to go home with jack abbot tonight.

but nonetheless, jack thinks you look perfect. and he makes sure you know it.

"god, you are so beautiful." he says, voice ragged before he dips his head back down to kiss along the newly exposed skin of your chest. hand sliding up your body to palm over your breast.

though it's through the material, it feels so good.

he moves a hand under your body and toys with the clasp of the bra.

"can i?" he pauses to look up at you nodding eagerly, "yeah, please." you breathe.

with a single movement he's released the clasp and is pulling the material off of you in another. "did i tell you you're beautiful?" he says again, practically ogling at your bare chest.

you smile, "you may have mentioned it, yeah."

he returns it, before dipping back down to kiss along the swell of your breast, then the skin between them. your head tilts back into the pillow just the tiniest bit at the sensation.

his hands now finally travel down your body to the waistband of your pants, messing with the button and zipper there. he leaves one last mark on your chest before pulling away to give it his full attention. he undoes them quickly, and slides the pants down your legs, tossing them idly somewhere in the room and revealing your basic underwear.

again, not like you were expecting any action tonight.

he kisses your lips again, one hand remaining between your legs, pressing just shy of where you needed him the most over the thin material of your underwear.

you can't stop the way your back arches the slightest bit at the sudden feeling, the way you exhale into his mouth. he pulls away from the kiss to move himself down the bed to position himself between your legs. he hooks his fingers around the black material and pulls the panties off of you.

you're fully exposed to him now, your cunt glistening from the lead up. jack can't help but smirk, running a single finger from bottom to top, pressing down slightly when he reaches your clit.

your hips rock into him at the touch, one of his hands pushing you back down into the mattress while the other slides a finger inside you with absolutely no resistance.

"oh my god," you breathe upon his entrance.

you're so wet, so ready that jack almost immediately adds a second finger. he watches for your reaction, and takes the way your breath hitches and your eyes fall shut as a signal that you liked that.

he dips his head down between your legs, pressing a barely there kiss against your clit before jetting his tongue out over it, making you whine.

"god- fuck, jack," you say, breathy, "feels so good."

he just hums against you, the vibration adding a new layer of pleasure as if his fingers and mouth weren't enough. somewhere along the line, the soft licks and kisses to your clit turn into sucks, the pressure causing the knot at the pit of your stomach to grow.

his fingers curl up into you, against that one spot that makes you see stars. your head rolls backwards into the pillows, sharp exhale leaving your lips.

you clench around his fingers, desperate for even more. jack takes the hint, you feel him grin against your pussy before pressing the tip of his tongue, hard, against your clit.

one of your hands finds it's way into his hair, gently tugging at the curls, the other grasping at the sheets for dear life.

he pulls away from your core for a moment, but only a moment, and only to say what you think is probably the hottest thing a man has ever said to you.

"come for me baby, come on. wanna feel you cum on my fingers."

dear lord.

as quickly as he pulled away his lips are back around your clit, licking and sucking at it like it's his full time job, fingers pumping mercilessly in and out of your soaking cunt as he draws you towards your orgasm.

you breathing gets reckless, your hand tightens around the curls of his hair and your eyes cinch shut as you come. your jaw falls open but no sound leaves at first, until a choked moan makes it's way out. a sound jack wishes he'd just recorded.

jack's mouth and fingers don't stop. not immediately, not until you're well over the peak of your orgasm. he slows down just enough that the pleasure doesn't stop, but doesn't overwhelm you either.

after you've come down from the high he presses one last kiss to your clit before standing up between your legs at the foot of the bed.

your breathing is ragged. chest heaving up and down as you clench involuntarily around nothing. jack's hands travel to his belt, undoing the clasp and pulling it off before shoving his pants down to his ankles and stepping out of them.

he takes a step over to you, your eyes having a hard time staying on his face and not the hugely obvious bulge in his boxers. "condom?" he says simply.

you nod, "yeah, there should be one in the top drawer here." he walks over to your night table, crouching slightly to open the top drawer. he pushes the items around looking for the familiar square packet but doesn't see anything.

he tilts his head. "nope, not in here." you sit up in the bed, eyebrows furrowed. "no? i swear there should be some. maybe try the bottom drawer." you watch him close the drawer before opening the one beneath it. it's empty safe for a book or two. he shakes his head, "nope."

"seriously? i could've sworn i had."

"get that much action?" he teases, sliding the drawer shut and standing up.

you almost cackle. "no, i get so little action that i didn't even know i was out."

he smiles, walking over to where his pants lie taking out his wallet and flipping through it briefly.

"i mean... i'm on the pill if that's- i don't know, a peace of mind? i don't think i have anything, fuck, i cant even remember the last time i was with anybody."

he closes his wallet, seemingly unsuccessful in his search. he looks up at you, "you sure?"

"yeah," you nod. "i mean if you're not comfortable with it, obviously we don't have to, i just- i'm okay with it." you clarify.

he smiles, putting his wallet back into the pants pocket and dropping it back onto the floor. "yeah, okay." he takes a step towards you then hooking his fingers into his boxers and pulling them down.

it's embarrassing but you cant help the way your eyebrows raise at the sight of him.

"anybody ever teach you it's not polite to stare?" he teases.

you look up to his eyes, noticing the stupid smirk on his face. "yeah- sorry, just. wow."

he laughs, "wow." he repeats, the tiniest hint of mocking present in his tone as he crawls back over you.

"oh, shut up." you say, pulling him down to kiss him.

mouth still on yours, he positions his cock at your entrance. the feeling of his tip ever so gently brushing at your clit causing your breath to catch in your throat. lips never ceasing against yours he starts to push inside of you.

the stretch is unlike any you've ever felt before. it's almost painful, but it feels too damn good to call it that. your walls adapt around his length as he slowly buries his cock inside you.

after a few seconds he's fully inched his way inside you. he doesn't move- not yet, just keeps kissing you to ease the tension, lips slow and passionate against yours.

you're practically panting now, the pleasure all consuming.

jack traces his lips down to your neck again. "you okay? ready?" he asks against your skin.

you nod, eager as ever. he picks up his head to look at you, "words, pretty girl."

"yes, jack. please fuck me, need it so bad." you breathe out, still nodding as you lock eyes with him. he smirks and it's like a switch has flipped inside of him. he gently pulls out of you before snapping his hips back against you again. his every thrust is controlled, measured to bring you the most pleasure possible.

the grunts and breaths leaving him are nothing short of sinful, and the soft noise of his hips hitting yours flood into the room amongst your whimpers.

"you like that?" he asks, and there's no answer you could give other than, "god, yes." the way he fills you just right, the way he's looking down at you, the way he kisses your lips and neck every now and then... jack abbot has got the formula down pat.

"faster, please jack. need more," you whine, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush to your body.

"yeah?" he tilts his head. cocky bastard.

you nod quickly. "yes- god, please."

with a smirk perfectly matching his earlier tone of voice jack obliges you, increasing his pace and earning a moan from you.

"yeah, keep making those noises for me. good girl."

good girl. the word replayed your head, and you're pretty sure it would loop on and on for the rest of your life. (not that there was even a slight problem with that),

when the familiar knot builds back up in the pit of your tummy, you find yourself clenching around jack, earning a sharp inhale from him.

"you keep that up, i won't last much longer."

he moves his hips relentlessly, every thrust taking you closer to your second orgasm. " 'm so close, jack, please." you breathe, hands practically raking down his back. you're sure your nails will leave marks.

jack doesn't mind.

"yeah? gonna come for me?" you nod quickly. "yes. god, yes, so close." you whine, earning another smirk from jack. that smirk is going to be burned into your retinas for years to come.

"come for me, pretty girl. show me how good i make you feel, huh?"

his pace doesn't let up. not when you're moaning his name, or clenching around him and suddenly he's the one seeing stars.

one, two three more rocks of his hips into you and you're falling apart. orgasm tearing through you so hard you're practically tearing up from the pleasure.

"good girl, just like that." he coaxes, beginning to lose his own control now. your nails dig into his back as he continues to rut into you.

" 'm close," he says through grunts. "so close i- where do you want it." he says quickly

"inside, please, need to feel you." you breathe, still coming down from your own high as jack is roaring towards his at full speed.

he nods, hearing you tell him to come inside of you snaps the last thread of his control, and with a groan he's spilling inside you, filling you up.

you roll your head back into the pillows at the feeling, legs instinctively tightening around his waist to pull him deeper into you as he comes.

"god- fuck." he whispers, hips stuttering as he finishes. a few more lazy thrusts into you, then jack is pulling out. breath catching in both of your throats at the loss of contact. jack rolls off of you, flopping beside you on your bed. your symphony of labored breathes the only sound filling the room.

"wow." you exhale.

"yeah." he agrees. "wow."

"that was-"

"yeah. it was."

you laugh, rolling over onto your side to face him. he turns his head to look at you. his earlier cocky smirk replaced with a genuine smile.

"still think there are no good men out there?" he teases, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face.

"eh, maybe just one."

this is so horny and self indulgent i am so sorry (no im not)

as always my inbox is always open for feedback / requests / ideas / thoughts. i would love to hear what u have to say!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[vividxpages]

"you, forever."

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

words: 2.6k

summary: Bucky thinks if he gives this whole congressman thing some more months, he’ll might be okay with this new kind of lifestyle. Everything for the mission, right? But he just can’t bring himself to accept the fact that he keeps missing out on the evenings with you.

a/n: I just love this man so damn much, the hyperfixation that started with watching my first ever Marvel movie (Civil War - I had no idea wtf was going on except for that this Bucky guy is super hot) is back in full force. Let me know what you think! ♡ and thank you for reading. ao3 version.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On a Thursday night, Bucky spontaneously decided home was wherever your fluffy pink carpet slippers greeted him.

Just behind the doorstep they sat, perfectly chaotic and not where they belonged on the shoe rack right next to them, just as you liked it. He smiled down at the sight, careful not to trip over your bag on the floor as he closed the door behind himself and locked it for the night.

He had been up since six in the morning, attended seven meetings – felt useless in five of them – and ran on nothing but caffeine and pure stubbornness to get Val’s ass in the meantime. In the afternoon, he had not managed to get out of some talks and now it was dark outside and the day was close to being over.

Given his history, he had seen worse days.

Far worse.

But yet, the ache in his chest was close to being unbearable. 

He soundlessly kicked off his shoes, willing his shoulders to relax as he listened to the quietness of the apartment. Bucky longed for the one precious thing in his life he held onto after days like this one.

You.

He shuffled out of his jacket, too, abandoning it together with his leather bag and quietly made his way into the spacious kitchen. Evidence of your love for him waited just in sight on the counter and Bucky’s heart both clenched in pain and fluttered in adoration for you.

By the sink, he spotted a wine glass, the rim shiny and rosy from your lip gloss. Your empty plate stood in the sink, forgotten and doomed to be a task for another day. But right in front of him was the other half of dinner, meant for him and still waiting, a bowl full to the brim with a delicious greasy pasta and a red sticky note right next to it.

Eat up! :) I love you xx

The cherry on top was a glazed sugar cinnamon roll from the bakery you both loved so much.

Fuck, his heart was so fucking full of love for you, why did he still screw up like this? 

He had missed dinner. Bucky let out a sigh, exhausted and regretting yet another evening he had not been able to spend with you and impulsively grabbed the cinnamon roll, the sweetness exploding on his tongue. A picture of you flashed through his mind, sticking out your tongue at him when he had laughed about the sugar crumbs coating your nose. He would’ve loved to share this sweet treat with you, earlier and in the coziness of his and your home, together.

The frustration simmering just underneath his skin flared up and if it hadn’t been midnight and you probably weren’t in bed already, Bucky would’ve groaned.

When he had signed up for this, although his true reasons were slightly different from the official statement he gave to the press, he thought: normality – after so many years, he had finally reached it. (Sam had joked at some point that he needed a white picket fence now. Bucky had told him to fuck off.)

With a job like this, although he was still in kid’s shoes, he could be able to live an average life for a while. And a life with lots of time for the girl he loved.

Now, a few months later, he wasn’t so sure about it anymore.

He put down the cinnamon roll and decided to take a shower first before he’d heat up the pasta and finally crawl into bed to you. If he’d wake you now, he would not be able to forgive himself. Bucky’s thumb brushed over your handwriting once more before he slid into the dimly lit living room.

His heart, usually steeled when he went out of the door in the mornings, softened instantly at the sight presented to him.

You were curled up underneath a soft, knitted blanket, your chest rising and falling peacefully. You were still facing the hallway and Bucky couldn’t linger too long at the thought that you might’ve sat there and waited for hours for him to come home to you after your lonely dinner.

He first recognized one of his hoodies on you and your beautifully heated cheeks. Your naked legs were hidden beneath the comfy blanket, but he spotted your favorite pair of fuzzy socks on you and how you slept on his side of the couch, where the pillows smelled like him.

The TV was not running  - you were a books and boardgames kind of girl and over time had built an impressive collection Bucky oh so gladly sacrificed shelf space for. (Although today, no game box on the bookshelf was out of place. You didn’t own any games that could be played alone.)

For tonight, you had grabbed one of your books Bucky had gotten you on a bookshop date recently. Bucky had once glimpsed into it when you couldn’t stop squealing about it. It was filthy as fuck. He had been shocked that something with such a whimsical cover could be so dirty on the inside… But that author’s idea with the ties, the blindfold and the ice had been pretty fucking great.

Bucky stood very still, his eyes lovingly flickering over your calm features. Your rosy lips were slightly parted and a loose strand of hair had escaped and threatened to fall into your mouth. One of your hands was holding on to the collar of his sweater as if you had tried to fall asleep with his scent close to your senses.

There you were – his girl, his world, his everything.

He took a shuddering breath, snapping himself out of his brooding and silently stepping closer until he could bend down and carefully snake his arms around you. You let out a small sound in your sleep, not stirring unlike something else a little further down.

A protesting mrrrow! came from underneath the blanket and suddenly, a tiny white lightning shot out from the coziness and looked at him with outrage sparkling in her eyes.

The corner of Bucky’s mouth lifted.

At least Alpine was there for you… “Good girl.” He whispered to her and with it, the cat proudly snuggled up in his armchair and the girl in his arms sighed happily in her sleep.

God, he had missed you.

Somehow, although it was contradicting and should probably be mentioned to his therapist, this would be easier for him if you were furious with him. For missing dinner, for sometimes slipping only into bed late at night, for brooding over breakfast when his brain repeated a stupid thing he had said in front of cameras again and again and again.

But the thing was this. His girl was the gentlest person he knew. And never once had you been angry with him since he took up this job. Angry at stupid reporters? For sure. Angry at Valentina for being a lying cunt? (Your words, not his.) Definitely.

And even now, after another evening spent alone, your beautiful face was free from any frown. Bucky freed your legs from the blanket and effortlessly lifted you into his arms before he started to carry you towards your shared bedroom.

“Bucky?” You murmured sleepily just as he stepped over the threshold with you, his heart wanting to melt at your small voice thick with sleep.

“Shh, it’s just me, doll.” He replied quietly and pressed a light kiss to your temple. “Just got home. I’m putting you to bed, so you can be comfy, okay? Go back to sleep, it’s alright.”

You let out an unashamed yawn against his neck, the warm breath tickling his skin as your hand held on to the front of his shirt. Today at a short lunch, he had managed to spill sauce over it, but you didn’t seem to care much.

He reached the bed with you, holding you to his chest while he quickly drew back the covers with his other arm so he could gently place you down. He watched as your body melted into the bedding, the way you snuggled right into it similar to how Alpine looked when she cuddled with him. For the first time today, a real smile tugged at his lips.

“Did you eat?” You asked quietly, your cheek resting on his pillow as you rubbed your eyes.

His heart stung yet again. “I will, in a minute. Thank you for leaving me some. It looks amazing, I’m just going to change and-“

You let out a protesting whine when he tried to step back towards the attached bathroom, your hand quick to shoot out and grab his wrist. Bucky then saw something in your eyes you didn’t show often. Pleading.

“I’ll be right with you, I promise.” He said, lifting your hand to his lips to kiss every single knuckle of yours. Four silent promises. I’ll be better, I’ll be better, I’ll be… “I’ll keep the door open so you can see me, okay?”

That, you could tolerate.

Within the next few minutes, he somehow managed to slip into some new boxers and a sleep shirt while also eating your homemade pasta bowl, his clumsy multi-tasking all happening under your watchful eye. He smiled at you from time to time, his own exhaustion tugging at him and luring him into bed with you.

“It was delicious. You’re the best cook in the world, doll.” Bucky said and the bruising feeling in his heart intensified over how much he wished he would’ve been home earlier and able to say it over the dinner table to you. Maybe you would’ve slow-danced in the kitchen together after he’d done the dishes. Now, he’d never find out…

You beamed sleepily at his compliment, a satisfied smile on your face as you shifted and made space for him underneath the covers.

Something in him that always ran and never stopped came to a temporary halt as he found his place next to you. The sheets and your warmth were familiar to him as a quick grab to his gun holster, although altogether violently different.

You sighed happily as he put his arm around you and drew you to his chest, your body fitting perfectly against his side. He knew the hills and valleys of your body in and out, was a master at knowing what the smallest reaction from you meant and right now, everything about you was at ease. Finally.

Bucky silently kept track of your breath, noticing how it became more even as the time passed between you. He had tucked you in against him and your head rested on his chest, one warm hand splayed out on his stomach.

Mine, you seemed to say.

Yours, Bucky thought.

“I’m sorry for missing dinner.” He spoke regretfully into the dark space of the bedroom. You weren’t asleep yet, he could tell. He knew exactly how you breathed, how it hitched when you were thinking about something and how you sounded when he was kissing you, making love to you…and now, you were bedded on his chest, listening.

You moved, turning in his arms and needing the embrace to be closer. Rubbing your cheek against the soft fabric of his sleeping shirt, you murmured: “’s okay.”

“It’s not. You cooked.”

“I can cook again tomorrow.” It was between a statement and a question. Would he be here tomorrow?

“I would love that.” He whispered softly, his hand going in smooth and slow circles over your back. “But it’s not the point. I haven’t been a good boyfriend lately…”

You frowned at him. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though.”

“No.”

“Doll-“

“It’s not true.”

“You deserve better-“

“Bucky.” The sudden sternness in your voice shut him up and your hand came to rest on his nape, drawing him down so his eyes could lock with yours. “No. You’re here now and that’s all that matters to me. You’re not less just because we’re not spending all twenty-four hours of the day together, although that literally sounds like heaven to me, okay? What you’re doing is important and I would never hold it against you.”

“You’re the most important to me.” He argued without force, sounding sad even to his own ears.

Something in you seemed to melt and you shuffled up so you could hold his cheek and kiss his forehead, then his lips, light as a butterfly. He chased your taste, a unique mix of your lip mask and the sweet treat of earlier, but you weren’t done yet.

“And you’re the most important one to me.” You replied gently, your smile so blinding with love for him, he almost would’ve looked away if he wasn’t so dependent on it, your happiness. “I’m not angry with you. So you shouldn’t be angry with yourself either. And as long as you come home to me at the end of the day, I’m the happiest you could make me, okay? It’s you, forever, Bucky.”

“Fuck, I love you so much.” He croaked, his strong arms wrapping themselves around your middle again to draw you impossibly close. You hummed in agreement, smiling against his neck as he buried his face in yours, breathing in the scent of your lingering perfume and body lotion. Your legs naturally tangled together with his and above the blankets it might’ve looked like you were melting together with him.

“I love you.” You whispered, like it was a cherished secret. “We’re okay. We’re always going to be okay together, yeah?”

“Yeah…” What good had he ever done to deserve the angel laying in his arms? “Okay, doll. Okay.”

You relaxed again, throwing one leg over his side and clinging to him like a lifeline. Behind your back, an oversized round plushie that usually took that job when he had to be out for the evening lay abandoned, or Alpine, who he could always rely on.

But god, was he happy that he was the one who got to hold you tonight.

Bucky listened to the sound of you slowly drifting towards a well-deserved sleep again, his thumb drawing smooth little circles into your shoulder, fingers occasionally slipping into your hair or softly scratching your scalp the way you liked it. He watched the shadows your lashes drew onto your cheeks, counted your freckles and the rise and fall of your chest until his eyes drooped for the first time.

“I don’t know if this job is for me…” He mumbled underneath his breath, tired and talking more to himself than you.

The blanket you shared rustled one more time as you lifted your chin and gently kissed his tense jaw, making it unclench. Your eyes were still closed when you said: “Then we’ll figure it out together, Buck.”

He let out a deep breath, the last bit of tension leaving his body at your simple affirmation and finally settling in for sleep with you.

Tomorrow, he’d cancel the meeting first thing. And he’d make a good and long breakfast for you with all the things you enjoyed. Maybe he’d take you to the quiet little park you both loved so much, hidden behind some old townhouses in Brooklyn. He’d go to the bookshops with you and carry your bags and in the evening, he’d make love to you for hours until your hearts beat in sync just like now.

Bucky knew you didn’t need him to, but he was going to make up for the time you’d been without him.

Your breath evened out and your hand in his became blissfully limp, protected and without a worry in the world with him close by. He kissed your temple one more time before he allowed his own eyes to close.

Bucky wasn’t sure about a lot of things in his life, but he was sure about you in it.

And he knew, however this life would look for him in the future, you would always be by his side, unflinching and fearless.

The love of his life and his forever.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾

[2cupids]

perverted yoga instructor!gojo whose bright and outgoing personality has brought him a large following. pair that with his good looks and it’s made him one of the most followed yoga teachers in the country. his classes are always in high demand, with people coming from all over just for one class. it’s not uncommon having to book a class months in advance sometimes and wait in the queue for the next available spot, especially in the spring and summer months.

but masked behind his good looks and charm, lies a twisted mind of perversion. he’s constantly trapped in a room with women of all shapes and sizes; it's like he’s a kid in a candy shop who can take his pick from the wide ranging selection whenever he wants without the risk of ever being caught.

his sharp eyes pick up any and everyone whose form is improper while watching the women get in position, quickly walking over to each one to fix it. his smooth voice flows through the room as he speaks into the mic next to his mouth, instructing people to tighten up their form, now noticing the even larger number of women who are doing it wrong. 

of course no one bats an eye at what looks to be gojo just being a helpful and attentive teacher as he goes around to help and he knows it. but his true intentions are much deeper than just placing a hand on a woman’s lower back to help adjust her posture. 

what no one knows is how excited he gets as his fingertips gently touch the material of her yoga top or pants, and if he’s lucky, sometimes her exposed skin. any position where a woman’s ass is in the air or that exposes some cleavage is undoubtedly his favorite. and he always manages to conveniently position himself at the front or back of the room during these positions, wherever the view is the best from honestly.

obviously many women throw themselves at him, from bored housewives to young college students, even the older women who come to keep their bodies healthy. he always politely declines, much to everyone’s dismay, which earns him many groans and displeased looks thrown his way as he gives them that handsome smile and thanks them for finding him attractive. 

satoru gojo isn’t looking for a relationship or even a fling, at most he just wants a one time thing. if he’s being honest though, he’s far more content with continuing to appear as an unassuming man to hide his deeply rooted deviant mind. a man that goes home and fervently fists his cock while flipping through every perverted memory and thought.

that is until you come around. now he wants nothing more than to feel your body against his, no matter what it takes.

you’re a fresh face he notices in his class one day but he tries not to pay you too much attention, knowing how sad he’ll be if you happen not to come back and he doesn’t get to ogle that beautiful body of yours anymore. so when you begin to make regular appearances, he’s more than just thrilled, he’s ecstatic.

during class, his eyes not only flicker towards you more than any other woman in the room as he speaks, but they linger on your body longer as he makes his way around the class, too. often times he’ll find any excuse to touch you even though your form doesn’t need the slightest bit of fixing. the women with keen senses pick up on the small details that most normal people would overlook when it comes to gojo and his attention. you’re suddenly given unwelcomed looks of spite from them, completely unaware that they’re jealous you’ve caught the hot yoga instructor’s eye instead of them.

it’s not until one day as you’re rolling up your mat that you’re suddenly aware of the special liking gojo has taken to you. you’re the last one left in the room with him and he approaches you, appearing to make small talk with you, but his glances at your breast don’t go unnoticed. after a few minutes, he lets you go and wishes you a nice afternoon, but not before he lets his hand go to your back as you’re about to walk away.

the next few classes go by without incident and gojo starts to think he won’t get his way after all, maybe he should’ve just given into one of the other dumb broads in the first place. he’s starting to feel dejected and seeing you regularly only makes him feel worse. soon, he’s back to his usual self though, showing every woman in the class an equal amount of attention again, telling himself to give up and forget you.

weeks later, you find yourself to be the last one to leave class again today. 

now, the way everything went down from that point is up for debate, depending on who’s asked, gojo or yourself. the only thing that’s not up for debate right now is how gojo’s got you pressed up against the mirror in the studio with your back nicely arched as satoru digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your ass which is sure to leave marks, keeping your cheeks spread wide so he can watch his cock disappear into your juicy pussy with each thrust.

condensation fogs up the area of the mirror where your face is pressed to the glass, eyes shut as gojo’s deep voice tells you all the dirty thoughts he’s had of you. an opaque white ring clings to the base of gojo’s pale dick, a result of your juices leaking onto his shaft from the constant friction. deep blue eyes glance up at your pretty and fucked out face, taking in the sight of you. 

you’re really all his at this moment. submitting your entire self to him, letting him use you to his liking just like a fuck toy. without even realizing it, his hips come to an involuntarily halt as spurts of hot cum shoot into your pussy making your soft walls flutter around him.

gojo doesn’t go soft, he’s still extremely hard and ready for more, so without another thought he wastes no time in maneuvering both your bodies onto the floor, manhandling you into a perfect position for fucking that he’s taught in class before.

the fat tip pokes at your slick lips for the second time as he starts round two. he spits on your puckered asshole before slipping his thick thumb inside while roughly snapping his hips into your supple flesh.

[astonmartinii]

you're (govern)mental

pairing: alex albon x fem prime minister’s daughter reader

there’s a new family in downing street, the home of british politics, but one member prefers the home of british motorsports.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

autosport

liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 189,034 others

tagged: yourusername

autosport: there’s a new family in ten downing street, and rumour says they’re big motorsport fans

view all comments

user1: deadass are we going to get the prime minister at an f1 race

user2: spending tax payer money on the prime minister watching lando norris bin it turn one at silverstone?

user3: valid imo

landonorris: omg royalty loves us ???

user4: stay in school kids

georgerussell63: lando surely you know the prime minister is not in the royal family

landonorris: there was an election?

alexalbon: we helped you fill out your postal vote?

landonorris: i thought that was my tax form

georgerussell63: we did help you with that as well

alexalbon: we live in monaco?

alexalbon: real question - how are you still alive?

oscarpiastri: i ask myself that everyday

landonorris: is it national bully lando day today?

user5: that’s everyday for user5

user6: is now a good time to confess that me and y/n y/ln used to be f1 twt mutuals

user7: excuse me?

user8: holy lore drop

user9: please tell us who she roots for

user5: let’s just say she was in the trenches for a certain red bull driver in 2020

user10: alex albon stan? her dad has my vote next election

user11: that’s not a good reason to vote?

user12: a better reason that some others lmao

olliebearman: DO I GET TO GO TO DOWNING STREET?

kimiantonelli: i don’t think that’s how that works

olliebearman: well if y/n y/ln likes f1 then she has to like me right?

kimiantonelli: okay mr big head

yourusername: i saw your sprint win at silverstone kimi, very impressive

kimiantonelli: SUCK ON THAT OLLIE

olliebearman: not fair I’M THE BRIT

user13: the prime minister’s daughter mediating a fight between rookies?

user14: oh baby she’s instigating

yourusername: also for all interested - i will be paying for my own ticket and transport for any race i go to! i’m a big girl with a big girl job, i pay my taxes and not yours

user15: omg queen

alexalbon

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 569,023 others

tagged: williamsf1

alexalbon: so happy to announce that i’ve extended my contract at williams, you can't get rid of me that easily

view all comments

user16: we won

user17: suicide CANCELLED

user18: *postponed just in case the williams isn’t any good

yourusername: woooooooooo 🥳 let’s go alex!!!

alexalbon: why thank you ma’am

yourusername: you don’t have to call me ma’am alex

yourusername: in fact it makes me feel quite old

alexalbon: can i call you mine instead?

yourusename: 😊

user19: what on earth just happened?

user20: chat are we seeing this

user21: hold on, let me get my notepad out

maxverstappen1: happy for you brother! hopefully you’ll be back up near the front this season

alexalbon: thank you max

maxverstappen1: okay now that’s out of the way

alexalbon: ???

maxverstappen1: what the fuck is happening in this comment section sir?

alexalbon: what?

maxverstappen1: you’re not seriously flirting with the prime minister’s daughter?

alexalbon: trust the process

maxverstappen1: is he going to get himself put on a list?

user22: how has this celebratory post descended into alex albon being put on a government watch list

yourusername: i can assure you the only watch list alex is being put on is my own personal one

user23: can she say that?

user24: well we definitely don’t doubt she runs her own instagram now

landonorris: i have many tiktok edits saved of alex if you want me to send them to you

user25: okay now that’s a comment that gets you put on a watch list

landonorris: i am just trying to be a good friend!!!!

georgerussell63: i am electing to ignore the mess in this comment section as we will go through it slide by slide over dinner tomorrow, but congrats alex, williams are lucky to have you

alexalbon: what if i’m not free tomorrow?

georgerussell63: what do you mean? we ALWAYS have dinner together on tuesdays :(

alexalbon: maybe i am busy?

yourusername: hhehehehehe

this comment was deleted

user26: she got sniped by the uk government lol

georgerussell63: good.

alexalbon: ???

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,577 others

yourusername: back in the big smoke but still a busy woman

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user27: does that include being busy with a certain tall, handsome, funny and charming thai formula one driver who races for williams

user28: you know she’s got like a big deal job

user29: alex albon is a bigger deal (idk what she does)

user30: part time editor in chief full time alex albon enjoyer

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63: if that is the bottomless lasange spot in bank we will be having serious problems

yourusername: are you threatening me?

georgerussell63: i’m telling you to BACK OFF

yourusername: @carmenmundt are you seeing this nonsense?

carmenmundt: i just have to let him get it out, all these formula one boys have strange attachments to each other

georgerussell63: I DON’T HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES - ALEX IS MINE

alexalbon: do i get a say in this?

georgerussell63: we shared a throat infection? i can’t believe you’d just cast me aside after that 😞

yourusername: george you are rich enough for therapy, please get some

user31: i came here to appreciate the outfits and have seen people absolutely throwing hands with y/n in this comment section

user31: they’re all verified?

user31: THEY’RE FORMULA ONE DRIVERS?

lewishamilton: they’re really making us look bad in front of the wrong people

alexalbon: please do not rope me into this

yourusername: can you send me toto’s number, i have a complaint to make

georgerussell63: ALEX DON’T LET HER CALL MY BOSS

alexalbon: she’s not calling toto

georgerussell63: oh good

alexalbon: WE are

georgerussell63: i will never forget this

yourusername: i can live with that

user32: also this joking about alex’s flirting getting him on a watchlist but it’s george who might be fucked?

landonorris: @yourusername hey if you come to a race will MI6 kill george?

georgerussell63: why would you ask this?

landonorris: curious…

yourusername: you guys know i don’t have command of like all security in britain right?

alexalbon: and who needs that when i’m right here?

yourusername: exactly

kimiantonelli: george has told me to inform you all he’s going on a social media detox because of your ‘negativity’ and wants to make sure you feel bad

kimiantonelli: no don’t put the end bit

kimiantonelli: stop

kimiantonelli: no i don’t want to tell them to feel bad they should just feel bad

kimiantonelli: why is it still commenting

kimiantonelli: it’s writing what you told it?

kimiantonelli: why are you using text to speech?

kimiantonelli: HAS IT COMMENTED ALL OF THIS

yourusername: how are you people trusted with formula one cars

f1

liked by kimiantonelli, maxverstappen1 and 2,450,287 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, alexalbon, yourusername & landonorris

f1: the first race of the season is here and we’ve got company!

view all comments

user33: someone check on george

user34: i know it was confirmed by them and the literal UK government but holy hard launch

user35: the people have yearned for a real f1 power couple

kimiantonelli: @georgerussell63 look who’s here!

georgerussell63: do you mind?

kimiantonelli: oooooooh you’re so angry she destroyed your homoerotic friendship you’re getting alex withdrawls - you want to let me past

georgerussell63: STAY BACK

kimiantonelli: worth a try

georgerussell63: just you wait until someone worms their way between you and ollie

georgerussell63: then you’ll know how it feels

user36: so how long until alex gets to become a sir

user37: points i think!

yourusername: i think we need bigger stakes than that

user38: TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

user39: ARE WILLIAMS COOKING?

williamsf1: why bother trying to create hype when we can just leave it to y/n

user40: @yourusername if alex gets a win can we declare it a national holiday?

yourusername: i don’t think you guys know how the british government works

yourusername: my dad is prime minister i am not the queen

alexalbon: you’re my queen

landonorris: take this shit elsewhere some of here are lactose intolerant

user41: 2025 is just a simulation at this point

user42: i’m honestly scared at this point

yourusername: thank you for welcoming me to the paddock, i’m so excited to see alex kill it this weekend!

alexalbon: can’t wait to show you what i’m good at

yourusername: you’re good at a lot of things…

landonorris: NOT PARKING

yourusername: that’s not what i was talking about

landonorris: well i can guarantee i am better than alex at whatever it is

alexalbon: i don’t think so and thankfully we’ll never know

landonorris: nuh uh i challenge you

yourusername: ABSOLUTELY NOT

oscarpiastri: btw he has no idea what you’re referencign and is unaware he’s challenging alex to a bedroom activities competition

landonorris: WHAT

alexalbon

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 782,091 others

tagged: yourusername, georgerussell63 & landonorris

alexalbon: best finish ever for williams, got to show off my day job to my lady and gained the prime minister as my dad - do NOT fuck with me on track or you’ll be arrested on entry at silverstone

view all comments

user43: alex albon you have to stop, your swag too good and your girl too pretty THEY’LL KILL YOU ALEX ALBON

user44: red bull knew, they tried to clip his wings

yourusername: alex… we can’t do that

alexalbon: so you don’t love me?

yourusername: i do love you, but that’s not how the government works…

georgerussell63: LOVE ???

georgerussell63: wait i’ll let you guys have your moment (begrudgingly)

yourusername: thanks?

alexalbon: i love you too 🥰

yourusername: you going to let me buy you a drink pretty boy?

alexalbon: only if you let me buy you one right back my gorgeous girl

yourusername: what a gentleman

alexalbon: well i’d do anything for you sooooooo

yourusername: right back at you handsome

user45: is george seeing sense for once

user46: i think it’s the podium haze that knocked him out of his psychosis

user47: he needs to donate his brain to science when he dies

albon_pets: sooooo when do we get to meet larry?

maxverstappen1: always asking the right questions - can my pets come too?

user45: i love how everyone else has lost their minds and max is trying to organise a meet up with the downing street cat

user46: i’d argue he’s gone just as insane, he’s talking to alex pretending to be his cats

lewishamilton: there’s nothing wrong with that!

user47: god i have seen what you have done for others

user48: @alexalbon how did you pull it off?

yourusername: more like how did i pull it off

alexalbon: nuh uh you’re the prize here

yourusername: how bout you get on the podium and be my actual trophy husband

alexalbon: @ everyone watch ur backs in china

yourusername: when he’s determined 😮‍💨

alexalbon: well i got you didn’t i?

yourusername: you’re mental pretty boy

alexalbon: you could say i’m govern-mental

alexalbon: am i right?

alexalbon: i think i have a chance in comedy, right?

yourusername: sure!

georgerussell63: she doesn’t believe in you like i do alex…

yourusername: SHUT UP

fin.

note: yes, yes two alex fics in two days but P5? ummm yep that needs to be celebrated!!

[prkhaven]

PASS THE SOUR PATCHES -p.js, p.sh-

They don't want to talk it out, they much rather fuck it out

pairing— gym rat!jay x fem!reader x gym rat!sunghoon

genre: smut minors do not interact, gym rat jayhoon au, p with no plot

wc: 7.1k

warnings: profanity, hidden rivalry, kissing, mention of sweat, set in the gym, they’re strangers (be careful, don’t do it with strangers), mention of candy 'sour patch kids'

smut warnings: filthy, unprotected sex (wrap it), p in v, semi-public, slight degradation, praising, dirty talk, headlocks, biting, fingering, oral (f rec.), orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampies, dom!jay, dom!sunghoon, usage of nicknames (baby, princess, good girl)

You were thankful for your friend, really you were. You had to consider how she managed to get you up from your bed and into the gym like how you always wanted to. 

What you weren’t thankful for was the fact that on your first day of ever working out in your life, she threw you into a packed full gym filled with nothing but pure muscle heads. 

Your face scrunched as you followed closely behind her. The sweat splotches on the ground from sweat falling to the ground, phones scattered next to machines and benches, spilled drinks and suspicious white powder you would like to assume to be pre work. 

“I thought we would start off easy and do pilates at home or at least something else” You gritted through a strained smile causing her scoff in response 

“You said you wanted the gym, well here it is” Her arms extended out to show you what is in front of you. Tacky gym music no one paid attention to, the loud grunts and groans mixed with the sounds of iron clanking on iron

Just your dream. 

You rolled your eyes but nevertheless copied her actions when she threw her bag onto a bench that was suddenly freed, “You have to be quick or else you’ll be here for hours” She stretched her arms outwards to the opposite direction from what she did a few seconds ago 

“Let’s go? Start stretching” She shook her stretched arm for your to follow her lead, you stretched your arm over your chest and hooked under your elbow like how she was doing 

“What are we working out today?” You asked noticing how she started stretching her whole body and you tried to keep up with her with haste

“Arms, I haven’t hit them in a while” She hummed but before you could reply, a deep voice responded for you 

“Yeah, we could tell” The deep voice chuckled causing the hair at the back of neck to rise and a chill to run up your spine

You looked over your shoulder to see two males—very attractive at that. Hair clinging to their foreheads, sleeveless shirts that clung to their sculptured body that seeped out through the clear wet patches to the skin and sweatpants that loosely hugged to their lower half. 

Your eyes jumped between the both of them, their jawlines splitting your mind into half as you took in both of their appearance. Sharp piercing gaze but half heartedly grins plastered on their face.

Their arms at their sides, their biceps pulsing from the bulge that your fingers wrinkled into your palm to form a fist, an itch suddenly taking over you instantly. 

From the moment of stepping into the gym, nobody caught your attention the way these two did. But surely there was a reason why your heart was running laps at the mere sight of them. 

“If it isn’t Jay and Sunghoon” Your friend heavily sighed with fake enthusiasm, “The dynamic duo” She rolled her eyes to you almost as if in disbelief that they were going up to her right now 

Your face morphed into confusion when the attention was suddenly pinned onto you. Unconsciously your thighs squished together as you froze up only able to awkwardly chuckle and shrug your shoulders unsure of how to respond in the moment. 

Noticing your swift body reaction to the reaction towards the sudden attention, one of them chuckled softly to himself allowing his eyes to wander over you, the corners of his mouth tugging up higher. 

“Who’s this? Newcomer?” The one with a butterfly birthmark spoke up as he shifted his body towards you making you gulp down the sudden dryness in your throat

“Don’t tell me she’s going to be learning from you?” The other male beside him laughed loudly before draping an arm over his friend’s shoulder

“What is that supposed to mean?!” You friend screeched making the both males chuckle at the reaction they received

“Please to meet you, my name is Jay” The one with the birthmark ignored your friend and solely focused on you 

Your gaze turned to the one beside him. His lips were dragged into a frown but replaced with a faint smile as he offered the hand on the shoulder, “Sunghoon” He simply introduced himself, pushing himself off Jay to land beside him

Sunghoon looked away from you for a second to look back at your friend, “Well for one you only hit legs. Second, you use sour patch kids as a pre instead of actually buying one that’s worth it” He deadpanned over at you with a raise of the prominent brows as if it was common knowledge 

“They aren’t bad” You awkwardly mumbled a response which perked everyone’s interest

“Oh yeah? You like sour stuff?” Sunghoon crossed his arms over his chest, the top of the pecs pressing out of his chest and his hands slotting around perfectly at his folding biceps

You fumbled over a proper thought process but your body had a mind of its own when you reached for your improper packed bag and out came a pack of said sour gummy candy. Jay and Sunghoon shot a look at each other, disbelief written over their face when you extended out the bag to them. 

“Don’t knock it until you try it” You spoke when Jay was quicker than Sunghoon and grabbed the bag before him and exclaimed the enclosed candy, a faint smile growing on his face 

Jay looked at you with shaking the candy at hand, “Well I have-” He was nudged harshly at his side by Sunghoon causing him to drop the bag right into Sunghoon’s awaiting hand for it 

The slight crunch from the grab, “What he meant to say is that we have plenty now to try it out” He waved the bag with a faint smirk 

Your reply was lost when your friend spoke up for you instead, wishing to get rid of these two as quickly as possible.“Maybe you should hit some legs!” She snapped before grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the two males, “Now leave us alone and go work out somewhere” 

Sunghoon raised his arms up in defense, “Didn’t mean to offend you” He whistled, sneaking a glance over at you. His eyes raked over your figure, his smirk growing by the second

“Let me know when you want to really work out princess” He sent a wink towards you making you take a step back in shock at the wording but a burn formed in the pit of your stomach at the thought

“What he means is good luck, have a good work out you two” Jay stepped in and sent a smile, different from the one Sunghoon gave but still managed to send a thrill in and out of your body from the quick introduction 

You swallowed down through your dry throat, lightly coughing from the lack of hydration, the scratchy feel in your throat worsening now that they were walking away. Your friend notice and patted at your back harshly, knocking all the wind out of you, “Ignore them” She sneered repeating her harsh motions 

You weren’t sure what her deal was with those two but you didn’t feel being on the receiving end of her wrath because of them any longer. 

Taking a large step away from her, your coughing became louder while you patted at your chest, “Oh shit- I’m sorry. Go get some water” She ushered you away before you could gather your thoughts or breath 

Stumbling over your feet, you sucked in a breath only to realize that you had no idea where the water fountain was. Gulping down in a pant as your mouth dropped trying to scan around for it and with no luck all you saw were the seas of people working out. 

Taking a step back without looking behind, you ran into someone but thankfully the strong hold stabilized you before you could fall over completely. “Oh my god, I am so sorry!” You repeated your apology

Until it came to an abrupt stop when you were turned around and faced the two familiar faces you saw not even 10 minutes ago. Jay being the one that caught you while Sunghoon was close behind.

Something must’ve shown on your face because Sunghoon was the first to laugh before wiping the sweat off his chin with the collar of his damped shirt. The unclench from the shirt and his printed chest made you lightly frowned but shook your head at the thought. 

“You alright there?” Jay worriedly looked at you that you nearly forgot you were at the gym but with the suddenly slam of a barbell meeting iron holding, you were quickly snapped out of 

“Uh yeah sorry for bumping into you” You jumbled out but ended up hiccuping right at the end making your cheeks burn in embarrassment 

“Got a case of the nervous hiccups?” Sunghoon was now closer than how he was before and you looked at him with widened eyes as you let out another strained hiccup 

You folded your lips to contain the jumps of breath getting caught in your throat but failed when they slipped out after a few seconds. Jay chuckled before pulling back his hands to point behind you. 

Following the guidance, you see the unoccupied water fountain right next to the changing rooms. “I’m assuming you didn’t bring any water right?” 

You smiled quickly and nodded your head, “Rookie mistake” You heard Sunghoon sneer in the distance 

Both you and Jay look at his folded arms across his chest with no expression on his face, “What? I’m just saying the truth” He huffed but rolled his eyes when you hiccuped yet again

You saw the annoyance written on his face and decided to not waste their time any longer. Mumbling a quick ‘Thank you’ to them, you turned a heel and attempted to walk through the crowded place

Blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes watching as you struggled to get through the packed machines and the light jumps you had whenever slammed the weights down. 

Jay scanned around the room wondering just where your friend was after leaving you to fend for yourself through the gym rats, only to find her sitting on the bench talking to a surrounding group of people, completely unaware of your distress. 

He sighed and was going to make her attention on you but he snapped his head when Sunghoon suddenly spoke with a frustrated tone, “I’m done” 

Sunghoon marched up to you where you got caught up in a zumba class happening in the middle of the gym. You were really clueless when it came to this atmosphere. 

As you waited for the dancing people to hopefully move out of the way when you were suddenly moved from where you were standing, “Come on. We’re getting you to drink some water” Sunghoon grasped your arm to guide you through the crowds 

You looked over at him with wide eyes but your body fell limp into his movements as he guided you towards the nearing water fountain. The sharp degree of his jaw caught your eyes with the scattered moles across his face that made you wonder if there were any anywhere else. 

But that disappeared as quickly as it came when his soft grasp let go of your arm, “Here” He grumbled as you see the long awaited fountain in front of you 

“Thank-” You cut yourself off with a hiccup making him groan and point towards the the water source attached to the wall 

Not wasting a second, you dipped your head down and the water flowed out, allowing you to drink from it.

There were motion detecting water fountains now?

You were surpised but waved it off as the new advancement of techonology that was ocurring.

Jay, who was left behind, finally caught up only to be surprised to see Sunghoon pressing down on the push button on the side of the water fountain for the water to ooze out as you drank. 

He knitted his eyebrows together as he saw how Sunghoon watched how your lips pressed together, gulping down the water—licking his lips while leaning up against the wall until you pulled away with a satisfied sigh and his fingers let go to cut the water.

You remained still for a moment waiting to see if they actually disappeared but ripping out a loud scream when you were scared from behind. Your sound was drowned out by the loud songs playing in the background as you turned around to see Jay cheekily smiling. 

“They say scaring can help get rid of hiccups. I just wanted to make sure they were fully gone” Sunghoon glared at Jay’s innocent smile as he spoke to you

Sunghoon knew his friend and could pick up on the familiar shimmer in Jay’s eyes as he looked at you. Unable to hold back his expression, his lips tugged downwards, “So they’re gone princess?” 

With his sudden interjection, you looked away from Jay to Sunghoon who pushed himself off the wall to stand beside you. You were oblivious to the glare Jay sent towards his friend but froze up when the  mischievous smile spread across Sunghoon’s face.

He knew that look anymore and what it meant. He scoffed in disbelief as he shook his head at Sunghoon’s specific gaze he looked at you with.

Should’ve known better that it wouldn’t have been that easy.  

Your heart jittered in your chest from the piercing coming from the two males, “Yeah, they’re gone” The cheerful of relief made them smile but while Jay wanted to continue the conversation, Sunghoon had other plans 

“Say, why don’t you properly warm up with us while we cool down?” 

[|━|]

The harmless invitation was meant to be legit on Jay’s part. While on Sunghoon’s side, he knew exactly what he was doing when inviting you to join them for simple stretching exercises. 

But instead, the three of you were cramped into the last dressing room, your head lull to the side while your body was pressed up against the cold wall. Your mind is dizzy only able to focus on Jay kissing you, holding you by the side of your neck whilst Sunghoon focused on your neck, holding you up from your body.

Your arms sprawled and opened and rested on whatever shoulder was provided for support, presenting your body to them without much issue.

You could feel their smirks pressed against your skin and you tried to ignore it but when they started to nip at your skin, it brought your attention back to them. “Focus on us pretty girl” Sunghoon sucked at your neck softly 

Jay drank up the noises spilling from your mouth into his own as he softly chuckled and stroked your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “We got you” He pecked at your lips in a slow manner 

You melted with the warmth of the both of them however it was ripped away when your shirt was pushed up and Sunghoon’s cold hand traced against your skin. Eyes flickering down, you see Sunghoon sinking to his knees fully, not looking away from you once. 

He smirked up at you before planting a soft kiss against the expose skin of your stomach, “So good to me” He hummed when he trailed up but he was suddenly pushed down by Jay’s hand on top of his head 

Sunghoon scowled and yanked his head away to see Jay pushing him out and slotting his body in front of you as he went to kiss you silly. Your arms wrapped around his neck and held him tightly against you. 

Jay slotted a leg right in between yours for support, your hands tangling into his while he molded his mouth to perfectly yours but he lost momentum when he was roughly pushed out of the way. 

Being ripped away from you wasn’t ideal. He sucked in a breath to make up for the lack of oxygen to find Sunghoon filling his spot instantly. His arms hooked under yours to claw into his shoulder blades, to feel the muscles contracting with each move. 

Your hands ruffled into the back of his head pulling him more to the side as he messily kissed you. Teeth clashing together and nipping at your bottom lip before releasing it to engulf your mouth with his hand softly grasping your neck. 

“I’m better, aren’t I? Taking way better care of you than he is” It was a statement rather more than an actual question for you

You weren’t able to respond due to the lack of use of your mouth but it was enough for a weak moan to slip by in some form of response to him. 

Suddenly, you felt the ghost of your hands in your waistband. Cracking open your eyes just enough to peer down at the hovering source, you see Jay on one knee, his hands feathering around your waist as he looks up at you, a silent plea as he waits for your response. 

You smiled against Sunghoon’s moving lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you offered your hips a little further out until his retracted hands touched the start of your pants. 

Jay smiled softly before hooking his hand at the elastic for a second before bringing down all the jumbled material he could. “Good girl baby” He whispered which was more than loud enough for you to hear 

“Like our form of warming up?” Sunghoon muttered against your lips but your pliant body resting upon his which would’ve been more than enough to be his answer if he were Jay

But news flash. He wasn’t. 

Sunghoon gripped your chin and pulled away, your lips chasing hers with closed eyes. He smiled at the scene before stroking at your chin making you open your eyes, “Tell me princess. I don’t like being kept in the dark” He cooed sternly

Your eyes looked ahead, too focused on the fact how he beamed at you like you held the answer to all his problems. Well maybe you did house the solution to one of his growing problems. 

“Yes” You slurred your words together, “I love it” 

He chuckled at the delirious state you were in, stroking softly at your cheek before bringing his hand down to cup your neck, “Yeah? Love the idea of getting fucked here?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow 

But when you were going to respond, you gasped loudly when a heavy breath fluttered at your glistening self and a wet stride from your hole all the way up to your tingling clit. 

“Taste so sweet baby” Jay mumbled into your folds, his hand reaching under your leg to hook it over his shoulder for better access 

Your body was pressed harder against the wall as you were pushed up, a cold hand running under your shirt and over your stomach to only rise higher and grip harshly at your breast. “Cute. Look at you actually wearing a bra to the gym” Sunghoon darkly chuckled as the tips of his finger traced over the strap 

“Am I not supposed to?” You loudly gasped at the protruding tongue into your fluttering hole, Jay smirked wildly as his fingers dug into the plush of your thighs

A hand flew over your mouth “Shhhh princess, can’t be making so much noise” Sunghoon tooted his tongue to the roof of his mouth 

You melted into his hand the more Jay lapped at your cunt. Hand weakly gripping onto his short hair and tugging at it the more he devoured you like a starving man. His fingers dug into your hips harder the more your concealed noises slipped by. 

“How does he make you feel?” Sunghoon whispered roughly into your ear as he grasped at your chin to keep it up, “Make you feel good?” 

You peered through your eyes down to see Jay already looking up at you, his jaw locked open awaiting your response. When you nodded, he pulled away from your slicked entrance. A string that marked sinfulness in the changing room connecting his swollen lips to yours. 

His eyes sparkled with a certain ambition to them, his hand at your hip unconsciously flexed deeper into the plush making you let out a whine with your hands chasing to the back of his head to bring him back.

Sunghoon, who was watching everything, pulled his hand away and smirked as you were panting heavily. You snapped a glare towards him but he merely raised his arms up in defense. 

“I asked” He mouth reached the crevice of your ear, his gripping hand slid down past your body, his fingers pinching through the fabric of your undergarment with an evident smirk before slipping through to your stomach until he reached your pelvis, “Does he make you feel good?” His fingers circled at your clit causing your lips to shiver 

“Or would you prefer me?” Sunghoon’s fingers slipped further between your folds, the arousal leaking onto his fingers and palm until it reached the twitching dip 

Your wavering eyes looked between Sunghoon and Jay, both looking at you with a very amiable expression that made your insides twist. But deep down you knew, one wouldn’t be enough. You need both. 

Letting out a shaky breath you weakly grasped at Sunghoon’s wrist and slipped two fingers past your gummy walls that accepted him. He groaned at the fit around his fingers, he hastily looked at you with shock but it was replaced when you softly stroked Jay’s head and brought him back to your pussy.

Both males snuck a gleam towards each other before focusing on their respective roles in your pleasure. Sunghoon pushed your body off the wall before pressing your back to his chest with a deep chuckle rumbling into your mind.

The muscles of his chest pressed harshly against you and a rather hard poke onto your body that you swore you felt a light twitch but unable to focus on that thought any longer when he pushed his fingers knuckles deep into you. Jay connected his mouth onto your swollen clit with a laugh at your loud gasp. 

“C’mon baby you have to be quiet for us” Jay managed to speak out through ever suck onto the bundle of nerves in a haste manner

His tongue lathered around with each pull at his hair that you gave. Eyes screwed shut as your breathing became ragged, focusing on the baring teeths picking at the bud while the fingers that plumped in and out of you. 

Sunghoon curled his fingers in the depths of you, the wet heat that surrounded his fingers slipped his hand full of your arousal. The loud squelch coming from the contact had no chance of disguised. While Jay’s mouth collected the fallen essence of you that slipped through. 

“W-Wait” You weakly told at the sensation growing in the pit of your stomach grew larger by the second 

You could feel the smirk against your skin from the side of your face to all the way down below. “I can feel it. Tightening around me like to keep me buried in you” Sunghoon snickered before stopping his fingers at knuckle length 

Nipping at your bottom lip to conceal your shaky breath when he slowly opens the closed fingers to spread the hollowness of you. Your hand tightly gripped his wrist in a poor attempt but when Jay’s hand placed over your weak hold and you looked at him with wide eyes. 

He pulled away, the bottom half of his face smeared of you. Glistening under the harsh white light from above but it accentuated his profile, of his sharp high nose bridge that smudged with wetness at the tip and the loopy smile on his face and sweat accumulating at his forehead. 

But his soon loopy smile turned into a  grin when your face morphed into a slack jaw and rolled back eyes when he guided Sunghoon’s hand out of you. The tip of his fingers left inside with a small wiggle of them before being shoved back into you. 

“We have to prep you baby. Don’t wanna hurt you” Jay slurred his speech but it went through one ear and out the other as you solely focused on the movements Jay guided through Sunghoon’s fingers 

With each thrust into you each time Sunghoon curled his fingers up to feel the pressure surrounding him. He could feel how you spasmed around his fingers, a clear indication of you nearing your climax. 

He looked at Jay to see the starstruck expression he had on as he watched you pant, trying to keep quiet to not draw attention. His own smirk slightly faltered, he looked down to your soaping self. 

He watched how Jay slowly pulled and pushed his fingers to get you off. While he didn’t mind it necessarily, there was a tightening feeling in his chest. Sunghoon looked up when you threw your head back onto his shoulders, weak moans leaving your swollen lips and it was a sight to see. 

In a rushed manner, he ripped his fingers away from you right when he felt the tight grip holding him in place. You let out guttural pained breath and quietly whined as you lifted your head off his shoulder and when you were going to face him, he pushed your front to the wall. 

Hoisting yourself up with your arms for support, you peer over to see the unexplained flash in his eyes as he watches your exposed lower half. Nervously gulping you attempted to shift into another position but he stopped you with a hand on your lower back.  

“I need you” His pleading eyes looked up to catch yours and quickly nodding your head without much thought and expecting a sudden smirk, you were met with a soft smile from Sunghoon 

A thump fluttered in your chest but your wandering eyes landed when you saw him fiddling with the waistband of his pants. You gulped at the evident imprint inside of them when he pulled down everything in a haste. His leaking tip smacked against his stomach and he saw how your eyes widened at the sight. 

“Think you can take it princess?” He hummed darkly as he inched closer to you, the heat radiating off his body onto your back as hands ghosted around your hips until he slightly pushed them out for him,“I think you can” He poorly laughed, his calloused hands gripped your body, his thumb creasing at your side until the feel of one of them disappeared

Moving your eyes away from Sunghoon, you spotted Jay taking a seat in the far too small bench provided. He folded his arms over his chest, a mischievous hand gesturing as if ordering a silent command. Your eyebrows knitted but all thoughts were wiped out when your leg was hiked up and a stretch pulled your wet wall apart. 

A loud gasp slipped past and your hands grabbed around air as your forehead pressed against the cold wall with a heavy breath. Sunghoon hissed at the welcoming warmth that engulfed his aching cock. “Absolutely perfect. You feel so good” He panted as he pushed himself deeper

“B-Big” You cry, prompting an egotistical laugh from Sunghoon, he snuck a glance back at his friend who took a seat on the unoccupied chair with a hard look he knew too well

Jay is annoyed.

Sunghoon smirked at himself, turning his attention back to you before thrusting up to a hilt as he stuffed you full in one go. He groaned louder than anticipated when the confinement you provided him squeezed him tighter, “Taking me so well princess” He messily planted kisses towards the side of your face

He watched how you clawed at the wall in need, weak breaths shuddering out and unable to hold back the chuckle that slipped by, you shot him a glare but your face dropped when the warmth disappeared from inside, his tip being the only inch left behind before slamming his hips upwards and back into your velvet walls. 

“Sunghoon” You body pressed further up as you weakly called out to him in a gasp 

His hand gripping your waist applied pressure onto your stomach as he settled on a pace for his thrust, “You sound beautiful” He murmured in the shell of your ears, “Hate to know that I’m not the only one that can hear you” His words brought clarity to your mind for a second

The sound of the lewd wetness meeting each other, the obscene noises from your throat and leaving past your swollen lips, his low grunts. However, that thought washed away when your head fell forward, all rationality was thrown out as you focused on how Sunghoon was making you feel. 

In your mind, there was no else besides you or him. Your mouth agape the more his hips met with your back in perfect calculation of his cock ramming in and out of you with a desperate need that showed every so often with a slip of an uneven shove into your pussy. 

You could feel the hard gaze shot your way and you knew it to be Jay but unable to lift your head, you only arched your back further, your arms burning from holding yourself up.

Yet, your neck was suddenly craned up with a squish at your throat. “Already getting tired?” Sunghoon’s biceps wrapped at your neck, the evident pumped bulge hosting your head up. The grip at your hip pulled further down to arch it impossibly more for him before he wrapped his arm across your chest, while the other held your neck. 

Flushing your body closer to his chest, his biceps cranking each speck of oxygen that slipped out of you with each moan, your pitiful wails growing in desperation as he continued his ruthless attempts of molding your pussy just for him. 

A dark laugh left his mouth when he heard your moans stringing along whimpers of his names. “Feel good princess?” You could feel the smugness overflowing from him but when he flexed more for you to feel the pressure pressing harder into your throat 

Left to respond with the only words running through your mind, you clawed at his bicep,“Hoon- Sunghoon” A silent hiss passed his mouth at the scratches left in their wake by you but instead it only fueled the carnal need even more of you 

Your teeth weakly clamped on the bulging flesh that reached close to your mouth. Tears brimmed at your eyes, the muffled noises made him frustrated that he couldn’t hear you, but the sight of your current state, so distraught in pleasure. Sunghoon’s flipped in his chest. 

The lack of proper air flow, your mouth filled with the flesh of the pumped muscle, your hands grasping to any form of flesh from Sunghoon as support, and the dizzying feel in your head the more his hold around your neck grew tighter 

His raging tip kissed your insides, each poke into the squishy walls sent you over the edge. The sound of skin smacking on skin filled the cramped room but space grew available as you and Sunghoon’s body melted into one,“Let him how good I’m making you feel” 

Sunghoon gritted through his teeth,“Let Jay over there know who's making you feel this good” He urged your head up to look over to the male that the moment you caught glimpse of

Jay’s head hung to the side, his legs spread open as his hand ran over the enlarged hard on against his sweats while his eyes never looked away from the scene in front of him–of you taking Sunghoon so well. 

“Fuck you just got tighter- You like that? Being watched as you get fucked?” You rapidly nodded your head and showed a loopy when he knocked your head back to his shoulder, the tip of his biceps pressuring your throat while he grinned widely at you 

“Come for me princess” Sunghoon’s voice lulled straight into your ear, “Let go for me” Sunghoon’s hand pressed harder against your stomach making you loudly squeal, no longer caring of holding back when the warming feeling was erupting in your stomach

Sunghoon’s thrust got messier and arrhythmic, faint twitches inside of you while his cock slid past your gummy walls. The pull against your skin became unnerving, lighting your body on fire in your body that only edged him further. Your hands reached up to grip his biceps with each of his slam against your hips without much care. 

When you clenched tightly around him followed by a pitched whine, Sunghoon stilled his hips roughly into you with a guttural groan. He secured his grip around you in an attempt to flush your body even closer to his. The warmth of his cum spilled into your red pinkish spamasing walls, painting them white of him. “Knew you could take me” He chuckled before inching out his cock from you

You loudly sucked in a breath when his hand roughly grabbed at your skin and spread your cheek to the side in order to grasp the sight of your and his cum mixed together and sliding down to your thigh. He smirked at his work but he was brushed off to the side and stumbling over his feet. Snapping his gaze up, he saw Jay’s stoic expression, “Time’s up” Jay spoke before bringing his attention to your heaving self

His eyes narrowed on the sight of the white trail on your thigh. He looked up to see your pleading eyes peering from over your shoulder causing a laugh to come from him. You frowned at the mockery sound but your scowl faltered when you flipped onto your back against the wall.

The sweet smile and shining eyes caught your main focus, different from how Sunghoon was even though you managed to catch the said male in the corner of your eye sitting in the same spot Jay was just sitting on. “Let’s be honest Jay, you won’t be able to fuck her better than me” Sunghoon sneered through a smug grin, resting on his extended arms behind him 

His friend chose to ignore the obvious instigation even though something stuck inside of him and rumbled the held down urge to the surface, Jay’s calloused hands held your jaw, his thumb creased over your cheek, his loving smile never moving from his face, “Why don’t we show him mhm?” 

Your even breathing was suddenly cut off when his fingers glided across your bare legs before the tips of his fingers traced at the leaking smudge, collecting everything onto his fingers, raising the white covered fingers to hover your mouth. His thumb creased at your chin and pulled down on the muscle to crack open your mouth just enough to slip his two fingers into your wet mouth. You visibly cringed at the bitterness on your tongue and he lightly chuckled at your sour expression. “I thought you liked sour stuff?” 

Your hard gaze flared at him which only caused him to slide his fingers further down your mouth and into your throat, “What was that? Can you do what you just did again?” He raised an eyebrow 

The restriction of your throat around his fingers from your throat made him slowly hum, “Bet you can take stuff well in the pretty mouth of yours” Jay twirled his fingers around as his dazed eyes looked from your pursed lips to your wavering eyes

“You don’t actually think he can fuck you better than me, do you?” He asked as he pulled his fingers from your mouth with a loud pop that rung out

The questioned posed an underlying unease, you knew he wanted you to agree to spite Sunghoon, you decided to test your limits instead

Peering over to your side to see Sunghoon’s narrowed eyes awaiting for your answer, the corner of your mouth inched upwards and his thin lips formed into a rising smirk, “Don’t know, he did pretty well” You weakly shrugged your shoulders before looking back at Jay 

Jay huffed a scoff at your reply with a weak shake of his head, his gripped at your chin to keep your gaze on him, “Let’s find out then” It wasn’t a question but rather a statement that shivered goosebumps across your body

Maintaining eye contact with him as he fumbled with his pants with a hurried pace. Forcing your gaze to stay up and not to drop when you heard the wet splat against his skin, your jaw clenched when his hand tapped at your thigh to lift it up, “Take a deep breath for me baby” He groaned when he dipped closer to your ear 

You opened to rebuke at his remark but a strained sound ripped out of you as you felt the pull that parted your folds as he slid his cock in. Your hands flew to his shoulders but it slipped to his broad back in a weak attempt for support, “Ooh, what happened baby?” His tone feigned innocence when he slammed himself deeper into you 

Your fingers dug straight into his shoulder blades with a ripped out moan as you were filled in by the inches, he hissed against your neck at your infliction of holding onto him, “L-Look shit- You’re struggling take me. All that talk for what?” 

Jay felt the warm confinement adjusting to the new stretch you were given in the past 10 minutes after Sunghoon but his heart swelled as he watched your face contort into all kinds of different expressions. Your mouth hanging open as silent noises fell out, your eyes screwed shut and your hands gripped to his back muscles that moved with each shift. 

“Ja-Jay” Broken wanton pleas filled his ears when he pressed himself further into your pussy clenching around his shaft, keeping him in place when he tried to pull away anymore that wasn’t to your satisfaction

“What’s wrong baby?” He strung his words together to form a coherent sentence that slurred roughly in your mind, “Too much for you?”

He weakly chuckled when you failed to respond the moment he hammered his hips up into yours making your mouth fall slack. The twitch of his cock buried deep inside of you that you were nearly able to outline each trace of bulging flesh. Jay’s thrust started off slow but deep, each never daring to pull apart more than an inch from you before pushing it back into you. 

Your wet mewls were like music to his ears that he could never get tired of. His hand hiked your leg higher up to align himself into a new position that had stretched your walls even more. Your fingers grabbed the tank top as he inched out further with each thrust before driving his raging hard on into your welcoming self. 

The stimulation was growing too much yet, when Jay tried to pull out when he heard your sniffles, the worry in him washed away when you grabbed around his neck and smacked his body onto yours, “Knew you can handle it” He praised which sent flutters into your stomach 

Jay’s hand fondled with the flesh of your hips as his thrust grew unrhythmic, the once calculated thrust started slipping into uneven ones and the concealed groans soon became louder and more frequent, “So fucking good to me. Could get used to this forever” Your mind didn’t pick up on the implications on his statement as your wordlessly nodded

Sunghoon on the sidelines instantly picked up on his friend’s chatter and smirked to himself, a weak nod and pursed of his lips together, the mess trickling down your leg from his part before he hooked up to the slacken expression all over your face. His thick eyebrows perked up in interest jotting down to question Jay once they’re back home what he meant by that.

Mewling Jay’s name like a chant felt like a paradise in his mind.”I’m going to- Jay!” Each clench around him sent the coil in his stomach to grow tighter

“Come with me” He pressed your bodies until there was no possibility of space in between, his pace was hard and rough but it made your head thrown back against the wall with a loud gasp mixed with a soft moan when you clamped down on him harshly when you felt the spurts painting your fading white walls pearly white now 

He sucked in a breath when your fingers dug harshly into his back mimicked the hard hold you hand around his cock, “Good girl baby” Jay creased the side of your forehead, wiping away the sweat droplets accumulating at the side of your head

“Like knowing that you were so good for me?” Jay’s eyes sparkled when you shyly looked away from him, the clear contraction around his cock from the words was his clear indicator

He took in the gleam casting over you in a perfect afterglow. The twinge of fingers feather over your forehead as you weakly open your eyes to catch his attention. When your weak smile plastered across your face before flinching when he carefully pulled out. 

Your tiptoed foot and hiked up one was placed onto the ground but your knees buckled underneath the profound balance. Your body leaned forward but to stop your fall was both Jay and Sunghoon. 

Looking between the two males, a gleam of mischief casted over their eyes as they hoisted you upright. A tugging smile rising when they caught sight of the mixed cum sliding down your leg. Sunghoon, the first to move, scooped up the fallen release and spread it across your folds. The wet squelch made him groan when his fingers slid back into your sensitive self. 

“One more?” Sunghoon’s voice gruffed out, his hands squishing in between the thighs yet when you were going to respond what you thought was for you

Jay beat you to it.

“One more”

[|━|]

Legs limping after another, your walk uncomfortable as you tried to discreetly shift in hopes of ignoring the clumps of cum that spilled out and clung your folds to your dampened underwear. Your face housed a scowl that couldn’t outshine the afterglow that was beaming from you. 

You gulped straightening out your clothing to its previous state before you ran into Jay and Sunghoon when you appeared behind your friend who was doing her set on a leg machine you didn’t know the name of. 

Her gazed looked from her feet up to you before loudly shrieking at your reappearance, “Where were you?! You left your phone behind and I was freaking out when I couldn’t find you!” Your friend worriedly yelled, shaking your shoulders until she jerked back in notice of your poorly fixed disheveled state, heavy pants after each breath and an undeniable ambience surrounding you

“Decided to do some cardio instead”

——

[siriuslywicked]

A Different Kind of Pain

Part One

Description: After losing a gem of a next door neighbor, Jack worries what the new resident will be like. Instead of a young obnoxious college kid, he meets you. Instantly struck by your warm nature (and good looks but he won't admit to that), Jack finds himself drawn to you in a way he hasn't experienced in years.

Tags: reader is a chemistry grad student bc i say so, shameless self insert, fem!reader, trying to avoid too many specific descriptors on readers appearance but i am new to this, reader is shorter than jack, widower!Jack, Jack talks ab therapy, trying to do justice to the fact that Jack is an amputee, but again I am not an expert, just some fluff and feelings, eventual smut, and so mdni 18+

A/N: Thank you all for the encouragement on the first version of this! It has been really really amazing to know people enjoy my ideas and writing and absolutely wild that y'all want more. I really love this idea and have many many plans for these two. I hope to get part two written and out this week. I am thinking around 3-4 parts total, but we shall see. This is starts similar to this post, but I made some changes and expanded quite a bit. I hope you enjoy and please send me asks/dms if you have any suggestions/comments/feedback on anything! I am always open to improving and learning.

gif credit - @iluvseb | divider credit - @cursed-carmine

Part One - 3k

Jack has been living in the left half of a red brick duplex, unit 101A, long enough to see a handful of tenants come and go on the right side, 102A. There was a college kid whose prefrontal cortex was just underdeveloped enough for him to be nothing but a pain in Jack’s ass. Needless to say, not his favorite neighbor. Then there was a young couple who were perfectly lovely until they had to move somewhere with two bedrooms to accommodate an incoming little one (Jack had been sure to give them his number in case they ever needed a friend in the ED). Most recently an older woman, Mrs. McAlister, who had regularly brought Jack all manner of baked goods and leftovers, had moved out and into her daughter's house. 

The unfortunate loss of Mrs. McAlister’s cooking meant that the right half of his duplex (and yes he thought of it as his by this point) was empty. Jack couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread creep in as he watched the last of Mrs. McAlister’s things be packed into a UHaul on Saturday afternoon. Would his new neighbor be another sweet elderly woman? Or would he get stuck with some obnoxious twenty something with no common courtesy? 

Fortunately for Jack, he didn’t have to wait long to find out. Housing got snatched up fast in a city like Pittsburgh, especially housing that was halfway decent and affordable, so it was no surprise that 102A was empty for under 48 hours. 

His first glimpse of the new tenant comes when Jack is arriving back home from a shift, just before 8 am on a Monday. He isn’t surprised to see a moving truck out front, nor is he surprised to see you directing the two movers on where to put furniture and boxes. He can tell you're young, in your twenties is his guess, which immediately sets his nerves on edge. Jack doesn’t think he can handle anymore house parties or loud hookups or trash left out. But you have a quiet, competent air about you that seems to indicate you aren't going to cause a ruckus. You appear to be alone, aside from the movers. He finds himself looking for evidence of a partner, husband, wife, without really meaning to. Forcing himself to not be overly nosy, Jack moves past the two men, now carrying part of a bed frame, and lets himself into 101. 

After a shower and the last of Mrs. McAlister’s roast (bless that woman), Jack is dressed in grey sweats and a black t-shirt, ready for bed. Despite the sleep threatening to overcome him, he finds himself looking out his window to check in on the status of your move. Apparently you had gotten here early, because he can see you handing the movers a wad of cash and sending them on their way. Before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbed his prosthetic and is hurrying to get the damn thing back on so he can step back outside. He may as well catch you as you’re heading back inside, introduce himself, make sure he doesn’t need to be concerned about having another pain in his ass next door. It is the neighborly thing to do after all, he reasons. 

Another moment finds him a couple steps outside his door, clearing his throat to catch your attention from where you’re examining the front facing window of 102. 

“I’m Jack. Abbot. I’m in 101. Figured I should introduce myself, welcome you to the neighborhood and all.” He outstretches his hand, wondering if a handshake is still what people do these days.

Smiling, you shake his hand firmly and give him your name, he lets out a quiet sigh of relief. It is at this moment Jack finally takes you in fully. He was right, he thinks, you must be in your mid twenties, no ring on your finger, and certainly not a pain in his ass. You stand a handful of inches shorter than him, just enough that you have to look up to make eye contact. The smile you are giving him is radiant in a way that makes his stomach feel tight. He can see you’re flushed from the exertion of carrying boxes and helping to move furniture, and your hair has begun to fall from where you had it back. 

But even though you aren’t at your most put together, Jack is left feeling off balance, as he can only see you as the most raw and real kind of beautiful. The kind of beauty that comes with a bright smile, dewy skin, and pink chinks. The kind that has as much to do with physical appearance as it does a person’s character. The kind of beauty that reminds him of his late wife when they first met. Even though he is just meeting you, Jack likes to think his gut is usually right about people, and his gut is telling him that you are exactly the type of kind, caring, intelligent person that spells nothing but trouble for him.

“It’s very nice to meet you Jack! I hope the movers weren’t too much of a disturbance, it seems like a quiet little haven around here.” 

“About as close to a haven as you can get in the city,” he agrees with a small smile. “And don’t mention it, you weren’t a disturbance at all.” 

In the few minutes the two of you spend chatting he finds out you’re a fourth year graduate student, “A PhD in chemistry? You might just be a bigger masochist than me.” You somehow work nearly as many hours as he does, and he finds your work ethic dizzyingly attractive. You moved to the area in the hope of finding somewhere a little quieter, some place where you didn’t feel like people were packed in like sardines. You aren’t from PA, but you have a couple close friends in town and your family tries to visit often. You confirm his suspicions when you tell him you’re single and don’t have any kids or pets so there shouldn’t be any noise waking him up through the night.

“Actually, I’m an attending in the ED, usually on night shift. Sounds like you aren't home much during the day, but-” 

“Don’t worry Jack, I’ll keep it down during the day too. You can always bang on the wall if I’m being to loud,” 

He feels the corners of his mouth twitch up. “Thanks, sweetheart.” It slips before he can catch up to his mouth. Even though he knows he shouldn’t be giving you nicknames, and definitely not that kind, the pink that dusts your cheeks at the term of endearment is enough to make him want to call you nothing else. 

“Uh- listen I’ve gotta get to bed, but let me give you my number in case you need anything.  Neighbor or doctor wise,” he says, shooting you a wink. 

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you doctor.” 

And god, he knows you mean it in a teasing way, but it does nothing to help the steadily growing attraction he feels towards you. He knows he is at least 15 years too old, and far too emotionally unavailable to even entertain the idea of being with you. He knows. But when you smile at him like he’s just offered to hang the moon and stars for you, he really doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

It’s just his number, no harm in you having it, and certainly no reason it has to have any underlying intention behind it. That’s what he tells himself anyway. 

He puts his number in your phone when you hand it to him, putting “Jack Abbot” as the name and “the guy in 101A and doctor at PTMC” in the notes for good measure. You thank him again, giving his hand a squeeze as he returns the phone. You say your goodbyes, and he retreats into his black out curtain and noise machine generated paradise. The last thing he sees before shutting his eyes is a text from an unknown number with your name, just so he can save your number too. 

You are going to be a pain in his ass alright, a kind he didn’t even think to be worried about. 

After your initial introduction, Jack assumes (worries) the two of you won't see much of each other. During your initial meeting, in an effort to reassure him you wouldn’t make too much noise during the day, you had inadvertently given him your schedule: 6:45 am leave for work, 7-5 ish suffer, 5:30 pm arrive home from work. With anyone else he would be glad to know that there would be no one next door to disturb his sleep, but instead he could only focus on the fact that he would rarely, if ever, run into you. 

His assumption proved to be correct for the first two weeks of your time in 102A, only seeing you on occasion as he left for work. But, about halfway through week three, Jack wakes up earlier than normal. By the time 5:30 pm rolls around and he’s supposed to be on call for another 13.5  hours, he feels himself starting to get restless. It’s a nice day outside with a high of 75 and a low of 52, the sun has set enough to cast an orange glow on the city, but not enough that it’s going to be dark soon, and Jack has a rare burst of energy. His therapist has been telling him some sunshine goes a long way, and he didn’t spend all that money on the fucking sports prosethic to not use it. 

By 5:42 pm Jack is in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, sports prosthetic on. He makes it about two steps out his front door, still adjusting the stupid prosthetic, when he senses he isn't alone. Straightening up, he realizes you’ve just come out of your front door as well. His gaze travels upwards from your feet as he makes his way to his full height. You’re dressed similar to himself in athletic shorts with a matching jacket, and he has to force himself to not linger on the exposed skin of your legs. When he does meet your eyes, he finds you smiling at him in a way that suggests you caught his little slip up, but are too polite to mention it. 

“Hey Jack! Are you heading out for an evening run? Well- I guess it would technically be morning for you, sorry,” You laugh at yourself lightly, cheeks coloring only the slightest bit. Whether it’s from embarrassment at the slip up or something else he can’t be sure. 

Either way, he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I still consider this to be evening. I am a proud night lurker, there is no part of me that wants to be waking up before 3 pm.” A small fit of giggles overtakes you, and he feels his smile turn into something more genuine. 

“But no, not much of a runner,” he gestures to his right leg where the prosthetic is on display. “I’m on call tonight and can’t do much besides hang out here, figured a walk might do me some good.” 

To your credit, your expression only falters slightly when you take in his leg, quickly recovering to match his eye contact as you listen. You nod, humming warmly in agreement, still keeping your eyes locked on his. “I have to agree. I’m also not much of a runner but I try to walk after lab most days. I think it’s a great way to reset after a long day.” 

“Sounds like you’re the evening walk expert then?” 

“Something like that,” you joke back. 

Jack knows that the conversation is winding down, it’s time for him to wish you a good walk and find a reason to hang back until you go on your way. Wait to see which direction you turn before beginning to walk in the opposite way. But Jack also knows that you’ve been looking at him with an attentiveness that, while he gives freely, is rarely if ever matched. If there were ever a sign of not wanting a conversation to end, he thinks the way you’re looking at him is surely it. 

Fuck it. 

“Well, I’m new to this whole walking for fun thing, maybe you could show me the best route to take?” 

Your eyes brighten, “Of course! I mean, obviously I’m new to the area, but I think I’ve found a good path. It’s about 30 minutes, if that’s good with you?” 

“Of course, lead the way,” he gestures forward with his hand, indicating for you to lead the way, leaning forward slightly as he does so. If you notice the way he stumbles forward slightly as his weight shifts on an unfamiliar right foot, you don’t say anything. But Jack swears he you’re biting the inside of your cheek to fight off a grin as you walk down the steps. 

Fucking sports prosthetic. 

The walk is… nice. Nicer than Jack expected. He can hear the birds chirping in the trees that are awkwardly implanted in the sidewalk. He can hear the sounds of the city too (sirens, honking, a plane overhead) but they’re less pronounced than normal. The two of you walk side by side as you lead him through parts of his neighborhood he’s never really taken the time to look at. You point out a café that apparently ‘makes a mean oat milk latte.’ 

“I hate to fulfill the old white guy stereotype, but I only drink my coffee black.” Self-deprecation as a form of self-defence, the oldest trick in the book. 

“As horrifying as that information is,” you begin, closing your eyes and placing a hand on your chest, “I also can get behind a black coffee, so if you’re calling yourself old you’re gonna have to call me old too.” You smile at him and make eye contact for only a moment before breaking looking at the pavement a few feet ahead of you.

“Besides, you have got to be the sexiest ‘old guy’ I’ve ever seen so I’d be wearing that badge proudly if I were you.” You put your hands up in mock defensiveness and accentuate your point with air quotes. 

He really isn’t sure what to do with himself besides laugh. Looking at you now, he could tell that even if you were uncertain, you were not the type of woman to let him get away with putting himself down. Nothing to do but admit defeat. 

“I think I’ll be quite happy with that title.” 

By the time the duplex is coming back into view Jack has learned that you’ve been walking everyday for years after a suggestion from a therapist. He’s learned that you “actually thought about going to medical school, but turns out biology and me don’t get along.” He’s also relearned more about chemistry than he ever hoped he would have to after asking the simple question “What does your lab research?” 

He had told you his own therapist had suggested he ‘get his ass outside’ more often, and that maybe the shrink was right more often than he wanted to give the guy credit for. He also shared one of his gorrier work stories and had been impressed when you were hanging on to his every word rather than going green. More importantly, he had only let himself spend about 3 minutes total looking at the way the sunlight caught your hair, or the way it framed your face as it fell from the loose bun you had it in, or at your lips as you spoke rather than your face, or at the necklace laying against the soft place where your neck met your collar bones. Just 3 minutes, not bad at all, practically a record. 

As you approach the front steps you hesitate, and he feels it too, he thinks. The uncertainty of where the two of you stand with one another. Jack knows where he stands, and he has a feeling he knows where you do too, he hadn’t been the only one with a staring problem. But even if Jack thinks he knows, he doesn’t really know. 

“Thank you for sharing your route with me, I think I was right to call you the walk expert.” He shoots you a trademark Abbot smirk, trying to put a lid on whatever feelings may or may not have been simmering during the past 30 minutes. 

“Anytime Jack, it was nice to have some company.” The smile you give him in return is softer, warmer than his own. For not the first time, and certainly not the last, he feels torn about how to approach you. He knows this feeling, he’s felt it before and it landed him in a world of heartbreak and pain. It was a place he’s worked hard to move on from, and thank god he can see now that while yes feelings, raw and vulnerable, can end in pain they are also what make life worth living. 

He isn’t sure where the two of you stand, after all you’ve barely started to get to know each other. However, he is sure that he wants to at least give himself the chance to find out, no matter how scary or stupid a choice it might be.  

“Well… maybe we could do this again sometime? I know my therapist would throw a fucking party if he got word of me not only being out in daylight but also socializing outside of work.” 

“I’d love that,” you smile wider now, staring at your feet briefly and rocking back on your heels slightly before looking back up at him. “I’ll be here a little after 5:30 pretty much everyday, join me whenever you like. Okay?” 

“Okay,” he feels his own expression melt into something so sickly sweet his cheeks hurt. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“Goodnight, Jack.”

[millers-angel]

beach trip

dbf!joel miller x virgin!reader

summary: back home for the summer, a getaway to a beach resort takes an unexpected turn when you cross a line with Joel—your dad’s best friend. warnings: age gap, kind of mean joel, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), size kink (?, innocence kink, pet names, fluff at the end. wc: 7.7k

read the second part here!<3

You're back from college just for the summer, and Dad had the great idea to plan a little getaway—a few days at a beach resort. Sun, sand, and overpriced cocktails. It sounded nice. Relaxing, even.

You’d already been home for a few days, not doing much. Helping Dad with a few things for work when he asked, watering the plants out front in the warm afternoon sun, taking long walks just to pass the time. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly exciting either. So when he mentioned the trip, you figured—why not?

That is, until Dad dropped the bomb: he had invited Joel Miller.

Yeah. That Joel Miller. His best friend. The man who has lived across the street for as long as you can remember. The same Joel Miller you've spent years exchanging sarcastic remarks with, toeing the line between playful and downright rude, though neither of you has ever seemed to mind.

He's always been quick with a dry remark, and you've never been one to back down. If he calls you a pain in the ass, you call him old and grumpy. If you roll your eyes at something he says, he just smirks and shakes his head like you're some bratty kid he barely tolerates. It's been the same for years.

But now, thanks to Dad's brilliant idea, you're stuck in a beach resort with him for the next few days. And if the way Joel had looked at you when Dad announced the trip was any indication, he wasn't exactly thrilled about it either.

The sun was beating down, the scent of salt thick in the air as you stretched out on the lounge chair by the pool. The resort was nice, you'd give your dad that much. Fancy as hell, the kind of place that served cocktails in coconuts and had a little island bar just across the pool.

"Want a cocktail, sweetheart?" your dad asked, already pushing himself up from his seat.

"Yeah, something fruity," you replied, lazily adjusting your sunglasses.

He nodded, making his way toward the island bar, leaving you alone—well, almost.

Joel was still there, sitting in the chair beside you, one arm slung over the back, legs stretched out like he owned the damn place. You could feel his eyes on you before you even looked. A slow, deliberate gaze, sweeping over your body in a way that made heat rise up your neck. He didn't even try to be subtle about it.

Your bikini wasn't anything crazy, but that didn't stop his eyes from trailing along the curve of your hips, how the slopes of your breasts pump over the bra, the length of your legs, lingering just a little too long in places he had no business looking.

You huffed out a laugh, tilting your head toward him. "Close your mouth, Miller. You'll let the flies in."

Joel's gaze flicked up to yours, unbothered, amused even. A smirk pulled at his lips as he dragged his tongue along his teeth. "Hell," he muttered, shaking his head. "When did you grow up?"

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the way he said it—low, gruff, like he was realizing it for the first time.

"Go get in the pool, old man," you teased, sinking further into your chair. "Before you get heatstroke."

Joel just chuckled, but you caught the way his gaze dipped again before he looked away, like he wasn't quite done looking yet.

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, warming your skin as you lounged back on the chair, toes buried in the hot sand. The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, mixed with the distant laughter of resort guests. A few feet ahead, your dad and Joel were waist-deep in the ocean, letting the waves push them around like kids.

You had no interest in joining them. The water looked nice, sure, but you were perfectly content where you were—stretched out, the salty breeze cooling the heat clinging to your skin.

That was, until your dad decided otherwise.

"Come on, sweetheart," he called, waving you over. "The water's perfect!"

"I'm fine," you replied, lifting your sunglasses just enough to glare at him.

But your dad wasn't having it. He waded closer to shore, hands on his hips like he was about to give you a whole speech on making the most of the trip. "Just for a bit," he pushed, eyes glinting with challenge. "Don't tell me you came all the way here just to sunbathe."

You sighed, knowing there was no getting out of it. With a dramatic groan, you stood, stretching just enough to feel Joel's eyes flicker toward you. If he had been watching before, he sure as hell was now.

The moment your feet hit the water, you shivered. It was cooler than you expected, the waves gentle at first—until they weren't.

A swell came up fast, knocking you off balance. You barely had time to react before the water dragged you under, flipping you over itself like a rag doll. You sputtered as you resurfaced, coughing up saltwater while your dad laughed at your misery.

Joel, on the other hand, wasn't laughing—at least, not in the same way. He was watching. Closely. The way the water clung to your skin, the way the wet sand stuck to your thighs, your stomach, the soft curve of your ass before the next wave washed it away.

You felt his stare even before you met his gaze. Dark, unreadable, something flickering in those brown eyes that made your stomach twist.

"Enjoying the show, Miller?" you teased, brushing wet hair from your face.

Joel just smirked, slow and lazy, eyes dragging over you one last time before he glanced away. "Just surprised you didn't drown," he shot back. "Thought I'd have to come save you."

You rolled your eyes, kicking up a splash of water in his direction. "Keep dreaming."

But as you turned away, you could still feel his gaze lingering, heavy and deliberate.

Dinner was nice. The three of you sat at one of the resort's restaurants, the warm glow of candlelight flickering against the polished wood of the table. The food was good, the conversation easy—your dad did most of the talking, as usual.

Joel was quieter than normal, but not in a bad way. He just... watched. Not in a creepy way, not at all, just with that same quiet intensity he always carried. Like he was trying to figure something out, intrigued in a way he wasn't used to. His eyes lingered, scanning your face, the curve of your wrist as you lifted your glass, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear.

You tried not to let it get to you.

After dinner, as the plates were being cleared, your dad leaned back in his chair, giving you a pointed look. "You going out to the bar or anything tonight?"

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"You should," he said, nodding as if he had just made up your mind for you. "It'd be good for you. Get your mind off all that college stress, let loose a little."

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. "You're not wrong," you admitted. "Maybe I will."

Your dad seemed satisfied with that answer, and soon after, the three of you parted ways for the night.

Back in your room, you hesitated.

The truth was, you weren't exactly the kind of person who let loose easily. You had always been more on the reserved side, quiet, the kind of person who didn't make friends easily. College hadn't changed that. Sure, you had acquaintances, classmates you talked to in passing, but you weren't the type to go out partying every weekend, to dance on tables or laugh too loud in crowded bars.

But tonight... tonight you wanted to try.

You took a deep breath and started getting ready.

A simple dress, short but not vulgar, hugging your body in all the right ways. Nothing too much, nothing over the top—just enough to feel different, to feel good.

The bar was livelier than you expected. Warm lighting, the low hum of conversation mixing with the soft melody of live music playing in the background. Groups of people filled the space, laughing, clinking glasses, bodies swaying near the small dance floor.

You hesitated at the entrance, suddenly hyperaware of how alone you were.

It wasn't like you expected to know anyone, but standing there, watching clusters of friends and couples, you felt out of place. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe you should just turn around, head back to your room, and pretend you never even—

No.

You squared your shoulders and walked toward the bar, slipping onto an empty stool.

The bartender greeted you with an easy smile. "What can I get you?"

"Um," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "A margarita, please."

A few minutes later, a glass was placed in front of you. You thanked him, wrapping your fingers around the cool surface, but when you lifted it to take a sip, you hesitated.

Drinking alone felt... weird.

You glanced around, watching people chatting in groups, leaning into each other with familiarity. No one else seemed to be alone. It made you shrink into yourself a little, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Still, you took a sip.

You were halfway through your drink when someone slid into the empty seat beside you.

"Can I get a whiskey?" the man asked the bartender before turning his attention to you.

You tensed slightly as his gaze swept over you, taking you in. He was tall, dark-haired, dressed in a loose button-up that clung to his frame just enough to suggest he took care of himself.

"You here alone?" he asked, voice smooth, casual.

You hesitated, fingers tightening slightly around your glass. "Yeah."

He nodded, ordering his drink before looking back at you. "First night here?"

You shook your head. "Got here earlier."

His lips quirked in an easy smile. "That so? Well, I'm glad I ran into you."

The conversation flowed easily, helped by the soft buzz of alcohol warming your veins. He asked about you—what you were studying, how long you were back for—and you answered, telling him about college, about coming home for the summer. He listened with genuine interest, nodding along as he sipped his drink. In return, he told you about his job, something business-related, though you were too distracted by the way his voice dipped, the way his fingers toyed with the rim of his glass, to really focus on the details.

At some point, he ordered you another drink. You hesitated, just for a second, but then nodded, letting yourself relax just a little more.

You weren't used to this—being approached, being the center of someone's attention—but it was... nice. Different.

And when he extended a hand, his eyes warm with invitation, you didn't think twice before taking it.

The music was low, sultry, a slow rhythm that thrummed through your chest as he led you to the dance floor. You moved together easily, the alcohol making you lighter, more willing. His hands found your waist, firm but not forceful, pulling you in just a little closer. The heat of his palms burned through the thin fabric of your dress, and you swallowed hard, suddenly aware of just how close your bodies were.

You weren't sure how you felt about it.

It wasn't bad. It was just... new. A little overwhelming.

But you didn't pull away.

You let him guide you, let yourself sway with the music, let his hands settle comfortably at your hips.

And then—

A presence. Heavy. Familiar.

Joel.

"Hey, kid."

Joel's voice cut through the music, deep and unmistakable.

You stiffened instantly.

The man holding your waist paused, his grip loosening slightly as both of you turned toward the source of interruption. And there he was—Joel, standing at the edge of the dance floor, arms crossed over his broad chest, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

His smirk deepened. "Just checkin' in on you. Didn't know this was a kid's space."

Heat rushed to your face.

"I'm not a kid," you snapped, pulling your arms from around your dance partner's shoulders, but Joel wasn't even looking at you anymore.

Instead, his attention had shifted to the man standing beside you, his expression unreadable. The man—whose name you had already forgotten—cleared his throat, glancing between the two of you. "Uh, you know him?"

You opened your mouth, ready to brush it off, but Joel beat you to it.

"Oh, yeah," he said, voice filled with amusement. "She's like my little shadow, been followin' me around since always, annoying me you know, likes actin' all mean, but we all know it's because she craves attention."

Your stomach plummeted.

The man blinked in surprise before—before laughing.

It wasn't cruel, but it didn't matter. The damage was done.

You could feel the humiliation creeping up your spine, burning your skin from the inside out. You took a step back, suddenly desperate for space.

"Unbelievable," you muttered under your breath, turning on your heel.

You didn't bother looking back as you weaved through the crowd, ignoring the way Joel's eyes followed you, ignoring the way your chest felt too tight, ignoring everything except the overwhelming need to get out of there.

The warm night air did little to cool the heat burning under your skin as you pushed through the bar's entrance, stepping outside with quick, angry strides. The music still thumped behind you, muffled by the thick walls, but it didn't drown out the sound of footsteps following close behind.

"Where the hell are you goin'?" Joel's voice was steady, but there was something else there—something unreadable.

You didn't stop.

"Back to my room," you muttered, jaw tight.

"C'mon, don't be dramatic. Just get back inside," he said, voice lighter, like he wasn't taking any of this seriously, like he thought this was just another game you were playing.

That was it.

"Fuck off, Joel."

You turned on him, eyes burning, fists clenched at your sides.

His smirk faltered. "Jesus, alright. No need to throw a tantrum."

You scoffed, shaking your head, turning to leave—but before you could take another step, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

"Let me go," you said, voice low and sharp, barely restrained.

He didn't.

Instead, he tugged you just enough to make you stumble back toward him. "You pissed 'cause I ruined your little date?"

You let out a humorless laugh. "Are you fucking serious?"

Joel tilted his head, watching you carefully. "Ain't that what this is about?"

Something about the way he said it—so casual, so certain—made something inside you snap.

"No, Joel," you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip. "It's about you humiliating me. It's about you treating me like I'm still some little kid when I'm not, or the things you think about me—that I'm annoying." Your voice cracked on the last word, and you hated it, hated the way he looked at you then. "So congratulations, okay? You got your little joke, you made me look like a fool. Are you happy now?"

Joel's expression shifted, something like regret flickering across his face, but you didn't stick around to let him respond.

You turned and walked away, shoulders squared, swallowing down the lump in your throat before it could turn into something worse.

The room felt too quiet, too empty when you stepped inside. You kicked off your heels, the soft thud of them against the floor the only sound as you crossed to the bed.

This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

You had spent so much time getting ready, standing in front of the mirror, second-guessing every detail. You'd told yourself you were doing it for you, that you wanted to go out and have fun, to feel good for once—but now, sitting at the edge of the bed, the dress that once made you feel beautiful now felt like a cruel joke.

Joel thought you were annoying. A little shadow that followed him around, desperate for attention.

Was that how everyone saw you?

Is that why you barely had any friends in college? Why it was always so hard to fit in?

The thought stung worse than it should have.

You blinked hard, but it didn't stop the tears from spilling over, slipping down your cheeks as you reached behind yourself, tugging down the zipper of your dress. It pooled at your feet, forgotten as you wiped your face quickly, sniffling as you reached for the oversized T-shirt draped over a chair. It was your dad's—soft and worn, far too big on you, but comforting in a way nothing else was right now.

Pulling it over your head, you made your way to the balcony, arms wrapping around yourself as you stepped into the humid night air. The sound of the waves filled your ears, the scent of salt thick in the breeze. It should have been peaceful. It should have calmed you.

But it didn't.

Because no matter how hard you tried, you could still hear Joel's voice in your head.

A soft knock at the door made you flinch.

Your dad? No, he's probably asleep by now, you know him well.

Another knock.

You turned, padding back inside, wiping at your face one last time before pulling open the door—

Joel.

Your stomach twisted.

He opened his mouth, but before he could get a single word out, you slammed the door in his face.

"Open the door," Joel's voice came from the other side, low and steady.

You pressed your forehead against the cool wood, eyes squeezing shut. "Go away, Joel."

"Come on, kid—"

"Fuck off," you snapped, voice sharp with the lingering sting of humiliation.

A pause. A sigh. Then—"I'm sorry."

You huffed, arms tightening around yourself. "Yeah, well. Great. Now you can leave."

"I need to say it to your face."

You hesitated.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with him right now, but you also knew Joel—knew he wouldn't leave until he got what he wanted.

Jaw tight, you unlocked the door and yanked it open.

He was standing there, hands on his hips, looking... not as smug as usual. That only irritated you more.

"Can I come in?" he asked, gaze flickering over you, taking in the oversized shirt, the bare legs.

"No."

Joel exhaled through his nose—and then walked past you anyway.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shutting the door behind him.

"I just wanna talk," he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to calm you. "That's it."

You folded your arms over your chest, biting the inside of your cheek.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I didn't know the damn date was that important to you."

A scoff left your lips before you could stop it. "You're a fucking idiot."

He scoffed back. "I'm trying to apologize. You're upset to me and I get it, I didn't think it was something... so serious, you know? Like you wanted to get laid—"

Joel's words hit you like a slap.

Your body tensed, nails digging into your palms as you glared at him. "Get out."

He blinked, looking genuinely confused by your reaction. "What? Why?"

"Because you're an asshole, that's why."

He exhaled, rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm just saying—it's not a big deal. It happens to everyone. You're young, you're supposed to have fun, I get it, it's normal, it's—"

"Not your problem," you cut him off, voice sharp.

Joel's lips twitched, like he was amused by something.

You clenched your fists. "Change that stupid look on your face and leave."

He tilted his head slightly, studying you, and then—"It's 'cause you're a virgin, isn't it?"

Your entire body went hot.

The words burrowed under your skin, setting your nerves on fire. "That's not your business," you shot back too quickly, too defensively.

His eyes darkened, the amusement flickering with something else. "Huh. All this time in college, and you never—?"

Your throat tightened. "You don't know anything about me."

He chuckled. "That explains a lot."

Your glare sharpened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Just that... only a virgin acts like this all the time. All bratty and wound up, like you're just beggin' for someone to—"

"Get out." you shouted, shoving at his chest, face burning with embarrassment and fury.

Joel barely stumbled back at your shove, his body solid as a wall. But before you could push him again, before you could do anything else, his hands found your wrists, firm but not rough, and in a swift motion, he guided you backward.

Your knees hit the edge of the bed. You tried to step away, to free yourself, but he only pressed forward, until you had no choice but to sit.

You didn't say anything. He was right, but you feel a little embarrassed about it, you're all grown up and still a virgin.

Joel exhaled, his grip on your wrists loosening, but he didn't step away. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and unreadable. "That guy," he started, voice low, "he wasn't lookin' at you like a person. He was lookin' at you like a piece of meat. And he was touchin' you the same way."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Don't lecture me, Joel. Just accept that you were an asshole and move on."

His jaw clenched, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Fine," he said. "I was an asshole. And I'm sorry." His fingers twitched against your skin, as if debating whether to let go or hold on tighter. "But I wasn't tryin' to ruin your night—I just didn't want anything bad to happen to you."

You exhaled sharply, frustration curling in your stomach. "I'm not some naive little girl, Joel. I can handle myself."

Something flickered in his expression, something you couldn't quite place, but whatever it was made heat rise to your cheeks. "You're not naive?" he murmured, almost like he was testing the words. His thumb brushed against the inside of your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine. "Could've fooled me."

Your eyes narrowed, and you tried to jerk your hands away, but he didn't let you. "You're such a—"

His lips crashed against yours before you could finish, swallowing whatever insult was on your tongue. You gasped into his mouth, but he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, his hands finally releasing your wrists only to slide down your arms, gripping your waist. The heat between you both ignited in an instant, like a match striking dry tinder, and before you knew it, you were falling back against the bed, Joel following you down.

His weight pressed against you, solid and warm, his knee slotting between your thighs as his mouth moved hungrily over yours. He kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment—like he had been holding back for far too long and had finally given in. Your fingers found the fabric of his shirt, fisting it as you arched slightly beneath him, breath hitching when his lips trailed down your jaw, your neck.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he muttered against your skin, his voice rough, thick with something you couldn't quite name.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Then maybe you should stop," you murmured back, though your fingers betrayed you, gripping him tighter instead of pushing him away.

Joel pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His thumb dragged along your lower lip, eyes darting between your mouth and your eyes.

"Don't think I can," he admitted.

"You don't even like me," you mumbled, embarrassed.

Joel's thumb lingered on your lip, his gaze heavy, but the moment your words left your mouth, something in his expression shifted. A flicker of regret, of something deeper, flashed in his eyes.

"That's not true," he murmured, his voice softer now, rough around the edges but sincere. "What I said in the bar—it was bullshit. I don't think you're annoying. I love it when you mess with me, when you push my buttons." He exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening against your waist. "I just... I lost it when I saw him touching you. That's all."

Your brows furrowed, something twisting in your chest at his words. "You humiliated me," you said, voice quiet but firm. "For no reason. You hurt my feelings over something stupid."

Joel shut his eyes briefly, exhaling like he was trying to steady himself. When he looked at you again, there was nothing playful left—just raw honesty. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to. It—it was just a damn impulse, alright? You drive me crazy. I haven't stopped thinkin' about you since you came back, and then I saw his hands on you, and I—" He cut himself off, his fingers dragging along the bare skin of your thigh, slow and deliberate.

A shiver ran through you, heat pooling in your stomach. You hated how easily he could pull you back in, how one touch had your breath catching. His palm slid higher, pushing the hem of your dress up just slightly, his calloused fingers warm against your skin.

Your heart pounded. "That's not fair," you whispered.

Joel's lips curved slightly, just a ghost of a smirk, but his eyes stayed dark. "Probably not." His thumb brushed along the sensitive inside of your thigh, watching the way you reacted, the way your lips parted just slightly. "But I'm done pretendin' I don't want you."

His words sent a jolt of heat through you, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He was too close, his breath fanning against your cheek, his fingers still moving—slow, teasing.

"Say somethin'," he murmured, his forehead nearly touching yours now. "Tell me to stop."

But you didn't.

His hand is way too far—far enough to feel you're wearing nothing but panties under the shirt. You licked your lips once he moved his hand to your belly.

"Have you ever been touched, sweet girl?"

You swallowed. "I don't think this is appropriate,"

Joel hummed low in his throat, his hand pressing just a little firmer against your stomach, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin. His lips hovered near your jaw, his breath fanning over your skin as he spoke.

"Why?" he murmured. "'Cause you're a virgin?"

You swallowed hard, gripping at his wrist as if that would stop the way your body responded to him. "Because my dad is your friend," you whispered, your voice unsteady.

Joel let out a quiet chuckle, deep and knowing. His nose brushed against the curve of your jaw, his lips barely grazing the sensitive skin beneath your ear. "Mm," he mused, his fingers slipping lower, teasing just above the waistband of your panties. "That ain't stoppin' you."

Your breath hitched.

He tilted his head, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of your neck, then another. His beard scratched against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "You haven't told me to stop," he murmured against your throat, his voice smooth, coaxing.

Your fingers curled against his arm, your pulse hammering in your ears. You should tell him to stop. You should push him away. But you didn't.

His hand lowered to your belly, going down to play with the waistband of your panties, then teasing his finger on your mound, sending shivers all over your body, getting you even more wet.

"Is it okay if I touch you here?"

Even if every part of your brain was telling you that you should stop before this goes further, you nodded like a fool, looking for his mouth again.

His fingers made they way under your panties. He could felt the smooth skin, probably never touched before because... he could feel how wet you were and—

"So you're really a virgin," he said amused, breaking the kiss, your lips still lingered by a string of drool. "Virgins get wet so easily."

You bite your lip. "Is that a problem? Cause if so, you should stop."

Joel chuckled, low and deep, his lips ghosting over yours. "Stop?" he murmured, his hand slipping just a little lower, teasing. "Darlin', I've been fightin' the urge to touch you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Now that I have you like this... I ain't goin' anywhere."

He spreaded your legs, played with your panty til your crotch. "Then why do you make it sound so embarrassing?" you asked sheepishly.

He finally reached your slit, you gasped, you were a bit scared. Are you gonna fuck for the first time with your dad's best friend? Would it hurt? Would it be weird after? A lot is going through your mind, but he cleared all your thoughts.

He pressed his lips against yours as he drawed circles on your clit, he could feel how needy and swollen it was, you must've been aching. You muffled a whimper against his lips, which he found really hot.

Instinctively you grinded your hips, just seeking for more pleasure. Your fingers curled on his hair, clutching it. He loves to feel how you writhe beneath him, his fingers exploring your folds, until they found your hole.

He didn't went rough, he was slow, deliberate, slowly stretching you out with his fingers—thick and strong. You couldn't help to moan, breaking the kiss. It was the first time you get this far with someone, lust runs in your veins.

Joel grins at the sound of your moan, enjoying the way you're falling apart under his touch.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. "Let go. Let me hear you."

He continues to move his fingers, adding a second one to stretch you even further, his movements still slow and deliberate but with a hint of impatience.

"You're so tight for me, babygirl"

"Oh, God," you whimpered.

Joel's fingers are slick with your juices as he moves them in and out of you, his movements growing more urgent with each thrust.

Your skin is so smooth and soft, but you're also so hot and tight. He can feel every muscle in your body clenching around him, trying to pull him in deeper. It's driving him crazy, making him want to take you even more.

He leans down and kisses your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin as he whispers in your ear. "You've been touched like this before?"

You shook your head. "No."

He smirked, he knew it. You were a pain in the ass, you loved getting on his nerves, you loved getting in his head because deep down you wanted him like this.

He stopped working his fingers in you, to get rid of your panties, with no warning, he just threw the garment somewhere in the room, changing positions to toss your calves over his shouders, holding your hips.

Your hand instinctively covered your slit, you were embarrassed, after all, he was someone you knew, someone who is close to your dad, someone who—

"Don't hide from me, angel," he said taking your hands to his lips. "I wanna taste you."

"Joel—" you swallowed. "I'm—"

"You don't need to be shy with me,"

He drew your hands away, just to see how flushed, swollen and needy your pussy was. Glistening in your own juices.

His gaze made you squirm, made you feel all your blood rushing to your cheeks. It wasn't bad—it was the opposite. It was dark and deep, like he was starving and had just laid eyes on a feast laid out before him.

You could feel his breath, his lips barely touching your folds. He wanted to feel every part of you, never thought he would have his best friend's daughter laid in front of him like this, showing all her vulnerability to him.

Joel's tongue darts out to lick his lips, his gaze fixated on your body. He moves his mouth lower, kissing and sucking on your inner thighs, leaving a trail of marks behind.

"Don't be a tease, Joel," you whined.

Joel grins against your skin, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he says, his voice a mixture of amusement and desire.

He moves his mouth to your clit, sucking on it hard as his fingers continue to move inside you, curling and rubbing against your sensitive spot.

It was heaven. The way his tongue swirled on you, the way he knew exactly how to do it, the way his fingers kept working on you, taking you to the edge.

Joel's tongue is like a snake, moving slowly but firmly, tasting every inch of you. He licks and nibbles at your folds, exploring every curve and contour, savoring the taste of your juices. His tongue is slick and warm, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

You were biting your lip, trying to muffle your moans but failing miserably. You were curling your toes, so close to the orgasm.

"Joel, please—" you yelped.

Joel lifts his head for a moment, his lips glistening with your juices. "I know you are, angel," he says, his voice low and rough. "You're close. I can feel it. Just let go, let yourself fall apart for me, babygirl."

He dives back in, this time, he's gonna taste you directly from the source. His tongue plunging into your core, searching for that sweet spot that will push you over the edge.

Joel's tongue continues to move inside you, thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm. He moves his hands to your thighs, holding you in place as he feasts on you.

"You taste like heaven," he repeats, his voice strained with pleasure.

He flicks his tongue against your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Enough to make you come.

Writhing, your legs shaking because it was too much. You let yourself fall apart, panting, moaning, saying his name.

He pressed his lips on your thighs, then slowly pulled your calves from his shoulders.

You were just recovering, but he just took off his jeans, you were amused, biting your lip, but once you saw his bulge, your gaze changed.

Surprised and... a little scared. It was too big, it will defenitely hurt, also, now that you see that this is going serious, you don't have condoms, but you want to do it.

You sit on your knees to help him getting rid of his shirt and his boxers. You adored his body, you've seen it before, but not like this, so... raw. His cock was dripping precum, it was swollen, his base hairy... you were eager to touch him.

Your gaze was sticked to his cock, the way he held it. "Can I touch it?" you asked sheepishly looking at him through your lashes.

His cock twitched in response. "Yeah, you can touch me,"

You swallowed and the tip of your finger barely touched his tip... it wasn't even entirely when he made you lay back in bed. He couldn't take it, you were almost too innocent, the way your first thought was to touch the tip and not fist him, the way your finger looked so small. He won't last long if you keep doing that.

"That's unfair—" you knitted your brows.

"I'm sorry, angel. You will touch me tomorrow, but right now I need to fuck you."

Your cheeks burned and your knees were still together. He laid his hands on them but you talked before he could spread them.

"Joel, I don't have any condoms,"

He chuckled. "Me neither,"

"What should we do?" your face almost screamed panic, it was really sweet and also, of course you had a point, but his mind only worked for pleasure right now.

"You want us to stop?" you shook your head. "Okay, then trust me, I'll pull out on time,"

"But it's still risky—"

"Jesus," he finally spreaded you open. "I ain't gonna hurt you, I promise,"

You nodded, trusting blindly in him.. because right now, you could only think about your own pleasure too.

He teased his tip all over your slit, mixing your juices, rubbing his cock against your slit, feeling how small it felt. He didn't want to hurt you, he knew you'd feel fucking good to fuck.

"Take your shirt off," he growled.

You didn't need to be told twice, you tugged the piece of fabric over your head, revealing your bare breasts to him. He had imagined them before, how your nipples would be, back in the pool, in the beach, they were covered just by a rectangle but they were hiding so much.

He went inside slowly. Your hands grasped to his arms, whining and made a face of pain. He knew it would hurt but he knows you'll feel good in a couple of seconds.

Once he was finally inside, he didn't move for a couple of seconds—you felt them like an eternity. You were choking him, you were warm, soft... tight, it was too much.

"Please—" you whimpered.

He locked his gaze on yours and thrusted. It hurt, and it kept hurting until it didn't, until all the pain was replaced with pleasure and lust.

He was being as gentle as possible. You wrapped his torso, sticking him even closer to you.

His weight all over you but you could only plea for more. Your walls throbbed and so did his cock. It felt good. Joel was making you squirm, losing your mind over him.

Moaning, clawing your nails on his back, he's sure you're gonna leave marks, scratches, but he couldn't care less.

"You're taking it so good," he groaned.

You hummed something incoherent in response, couldn't even mouth a word.

"So tight," his head found its way to the crook of your neck. "Such a good girl,"

He nudged your g-spot, thrusting and nibbling your neck, leaving little marks, feeling your intoxicating scent.

The way you moaned his name, softly and needy, made him lost his mind.

You whined. "Joel, don't—" your eyes roll involuntarily. "I'm gonna—"

"Yeah, that's it, come for me," he cooed on your ear.

And you needed less. You followed his order, losing yourself, reaching your second orgasm. Your walls choked him, he never felt anything tighter before. You were milking him... and he would've shot his load inside you, God knows he would've.

But he couldn't take the risk. He pulled out with a loud pop sound of juices.

He jerked off until his cum was costing your slit. It was so much he felt like a teen.

Your body was still trembling, weak from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn't regret a thing. Every nerve felt alive, sensitive to even the faintest touch of the sheets beneath you.

Joel stood up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. A moment later, he returned, a warm cloth in hand.

He was gentle as he cleaned you, careful, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary. You appreciated that—the quiet care in his actions, the way he wasn't rushing to leave.

You expected him to grab his things and go, to put some distance between you now that it was over. But to your surprise, Joel didn't move toward the door. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, then slipped under the covers beside you, his warmth seeping into your skin as he pulled the blanket over both of you.

You turned your head, meeting his gaze in the dim light. "I really enjoyed it," you admitted, your voice soft, a little shy.

Joel let out a low hum, his hand finding your waist beneath the sheets. "Me too," he murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. "More than you think."

His words settled deep inside you, warm and reassuring. You let yourself relax, curling into his side, and when he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, you leaned into the touch.

For the first time that night, you didn't overthink. You just let yourself be held.

Joel let out a slow breath, his fingers still tracing idle circles against your waist. You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice quieter now, softer.

"I'm sorry," you murmured.

His brows furrowed. "For what?"

You swallowed, fingers playing with the edge of the sheet. "For being... I don't know, a little much sometimes. I know I can be stubborn, or—" you let out a small, nervous laugh—"annoying, like you said."

Joel shook his head immediately. "Don’t say that," he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "Drives me crazy when you push my buttons, yeah, but that don’t mean I don’t like it." His voice dipped lower, rougher. "I like it too damn much."

You blinked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

He exhaled, his thumb running along your ribs. "I’m sorry for makin’ you feel like you were a bother. You never were. Never will be."

A comfortable silence settled between you, warm and easy, interrupted only by the rhythmic crash of the waves outside. You traced lazy patterns over his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart before finally speaking again.

"So..." you hesitated, biting your lip. "Are we gonna do it again?"

Joel huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Sweetheart," he said, amused, "you damn near killed me. Need a minute before you wear me out completely."

You laughed, lightly smacking his arm, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as he pulled you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

"Not now. I know old men usually take—"

He laughed, hard, delighted. "Old man? This old man just made you have two orgasms in a row."

You rolled your eyes, but still could feel your cheeks warm. "I was talking about doing it tomorrow? Maybe? I mean, I would like to get better, learn new things,"

Joel smirked, shifting onto his side so he could look at you properly. His fingers brushed over your hip, lazy and warm. "Oh, now look at you," he murmured, voice dipping into something teasing. "All shy all of a sudden."

Your face burned. "I’m not shy," you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

"Mm-hmm." His thumb traced slow circles against your skin. "So let me get this straight—you’re askin’ me to teach you a few things?"

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, low and knowing. You swallowed hard, lips parting, but the words seemed to stick in your throat.

Joel grinned, leaning in just enough that his lips brushed your ear. "That’s real cute, sweetheart," he murmured. "But you gotta use your words."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Forget I said anything."

His chuckle rumbled against your skin as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "Oh, no. I heard you loud and clear," he mused, his breath warm against your skin. "And don’t you worry—I’ll make sure you learn real good."

You sighed, utterly spent, and rolled onto your stomach, your body sinking into the mattress. The exhaustion tugged at you almost instantly, a deep, pleasant heaviness settling into your limbs. Your eyes fluttered shut, the thought drifted lazily through your mind—maybe tomorrow, you could sneak into his room. The idea made your lips curve slightly before sleep pulled you under and within moments, your breathing evened out, soft and steady.

Joel propped himself up on one elbow, watching you. His fingers ghosted over the curve of your back, barely touching, just tracing the shape of you beneath the sheets. The room was quiet, save for the distant sound of waves crashing outside, but inside his head—inside his chest—everything was loud.

He should feel guilty. Hell, maybe he did, a little. Not because he regretted it—because he didn’t. Not even for a second. But because it was you. His best friend's daughter. And not only had he slept with you, but he'd been your first. That should’ve weighed on him more, should’ve made him hesitate, should’ve made him pull away before any of this happened.

But looking at you now—peaceful, lips slightly parted as you breathed, hair splayed out over the pillow—any guilt that tried to surface didn’t stand a chance.

Because you were beautiful. And, God knows, you drove him crazy.

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling quietly.

He was in trouble. 

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the resort’s dining area, casting a warm glow over the table set with fresh fruit, toast, and steaming cups of coffee. The soft hum of conversation filled the space, blending with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.

You sat across from Joel, the cool tile of the floor smooth beneath your bare foot as you stretched out, pressing lightly against his leg beneath the table. A small, teasing touch.

Joel didn’t react at first. Just sipped his coffee, gaze flicking up to meet yours over the rim of his cup. But when you dragged your foot higher, brushing along his calf, the muscle in his jaw ticked.

Your lips curled slightly, feigning innocence as you reached for a piece of fruit, taking a slow bite.

"You’re in a good mood this morning," your dad commented, flipping through the resort’s activity pamphlet. "Had fun last night?"

Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around your fork.

Joel cleared his throat, setting his mug down a little too carefully.

You forced yourself to nod, hoping the heat in your face wasn’t too obvious. "Yeah," you said, voice just a little too high. "I had a really good time."

Joel let out the smallest chuckle, shaking his head as he reached for the butter.

"Glad to hear it," your dad said, turning a page. "This trip’s all about relaxing. You deserve to enjoy yourself, sweetheart."

You nodded, glancing at Joel, at the way he was watching you now—something dark, something knowing.

"And," your dad added, stretching back in his chair. "Summer’s just getting started."

Your stomach fluttered. If only dad knew...

Yeah. Summer had just begun.