#on another note i actually now really like the idea of his head opening up from the middle like that. if anyone else with more maw-drawing

[starzradio]

DOUBLE OR NOTHING

after countless empty promises spilled from his lips, you wanted to believe that he’d show up to your anniversary of all things.

FEATURING: toji fushiguro x wife! reader

CONTENTS: non canon compliant/au, marriage problems, talks of divorce, angst, smut, porn w/out plot rly, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, doggy, missionary against a wall, pet names (ma, princess, etc.)

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: repost bc i need this dilf in my bed rn 😞

"I'll make it home to you by six, mama. Take you out on a nice date, get you some flowers, all that stuff you like. Promise."

The clock was nearing eight o'clock with no signs of Toji coming through the door anytime soon, your own patience starting to run out with every tick. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The sound echoed through your ears since you'd sat down on the leather couch nearly two hours ago, waiting for Toji to fulfill the promise. A promise that he'd made after flaking out on the date planned prior to that one.

And prior to that one. And prior. It'd been more missed dates than actual ones that he'd taken you out by now—you weren't exactly sure why you'd hoped for tonight to be different. Well, you knew exactly why. Today marked three years of being married to one another. You knew that he didn't prioritize date nights with you as much as he should, but you had held some sort of foolish hope that your anniversary would mean something—anything to him.

The divorce papers felt like a dead weight in your hand, much like how your relationship would be the second that you brought it up. It all just seemed so final, seeing the terms laid out that would end years of marriage. Just by the flick of a pen. But the idea was almost like a reprieve, like something that was worth looking forward to. You shook your head, getting up from the couch to set the stack of papers on the kitchen table where Toji wouldn't miss them.

Another half hour of eerie silence and Toji still hadn't come through the door. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep some semblance of hope that he'd even show up at all, much less for your date. You admitted defeat, slipping off your heels and pulling up a throw blanket over yourself. Succumbing to the sleep that was weighing down on your eyelids.

You weren't even sure how much time had passed when you heard the door swing open, the door hitting the wall from the force. The thud of his shoes hitting the tile followed, a grumble leaving Toji's lips. "Fuckin' bastards rigged that race. Robbed me of fifty bucks," he muttered to himself, slipping his coat off before placing it up on the coat rack.

"You're home late," you called out, watching as Toji turned to look at the couch before flicking on one of the living room lights. "Jesus woman, you scared me," he grumbled, a large hand resting by his chest as he looked over in your direction. Toji rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion lingering on his face like a second skin. It was only then that he looked over at you, really looked at you, and what you were wearing.

Ah shit.

Almost as if he wanted to make the situation worse, he'd chosen to go with, "You got all dolled up just to fall asleep on the couch?" You could've sworn you felt your eye twitch at the question. He'd barely opened up his mouth and you were already wishing that he didn't even bother showing up for the night.

Toji knew he was in deep shit with each step he took into the living room, his mind already starting to work overdrive to figure out what he could do for what he'd missed. A date? No, you wouldn't have put on the very expensive pair of Louboutins for just any date. His mind was blanking on anything other than the numbers that he'd lost with earlier in the day. Come on, think.

"No, I got dolled up because I thought I'd be going out with my husband tonight," you retorted dryly, smudges of eyeshadow sticking to your hand when you went to rub at your eyes. You could see Toji's brows furrow, the wheels seeming to turn in his head for once, before a look of realization settled on his features.

"Look, I'm sorry. I got carried away at the casino," one of the many excuses you'd heard before coming back to bite you in the ass. The same excuse that he'd used last month when he forgot about a work party you'd mentioned to him. Which wouldn't have been too bad if it weren't for all the snide comments being whispered in your direction and all the unwarranted marriage advice.

Advice that you ended up forgetting about chugging down two glasses of tequila like water. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. You can pick the place and all that shit." There went another one. He'd really topped himself using the two of them in a row. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, looking over at him in disbelief. "Do you even know what today was? Why I'm so pissed off?"

"It's your birthday?" Toji spoke after a couple seconds, the answer clearly wrong just by the look on his face. You rubbed a hand over your face, standing up from your spot on the couch. "It's our wedding anniversary, Toji," you spoke up before he made another guess that would just piss you off even further, "And I have something I need to talk to you about. It's on the kitchen table."

Underneath the vase filled with wilted flowers—a collection more than anything that you kept around as a reminder that Toji used to care, was a stack of papers. He placed the vase down on the table with more force than necessary upon realizing what the documents were. "A divorce?" The words slipped out of him with such venom, such distaste, like the idea was unfathomable.

Toji slammed the papers down on the table, the salt and pepper shakers trembling before falling over. "Is that really what you want?" He stepped closer to you when you approached the table, his hands instinctively moving to hold your hips. Holding you close to his body. "No, I didn't get married with the intention of getting a divorce. But you've been neglecting this marriage for a couple months now."

"I'll make it up to you now," Toji spoke quickly, like he was afraid of losing you at any moment. Like you'd disappear if he didn't. And as much as you wanted to avoid looking over at him, the task had just become all that much difficult when you had nowhere else to look at. It only took one glance at his face to realize just what he meant by 'making it up to you.'

"You think you're gonna fix months of pushing me aside with just sex?"

"Nah, I know it's gonna take more. But you've been so tired, isn't that right? So tired of tryin' to keep this marriage from falling apart and nobody taking care of you?" His words were like a siren's song when he whispered them in your ear, your traitorous body leaning back to meet the drag of your fingertips. It was almost laughable at how easily your resolve had melted. "Lemme take care of you mama. Promise I'll make you feel good."

"You wanna call me a dick, never wanna see me again? That's fine, just don't deny me one last taste. Please," And while Toji wasn't a man to beg for anything in his life, he found himself saying the words anyways. "Thought this was you making it up to me," and as much as you were willing yourself not to fold, you felt yourself spreading your legs almost instinctively when his finger dragged up your inner thigh.

"Can't it be both?" Toji's teeth nipped at your neck, licking a stripe up the junction of your neck. Practically salivating at the taste of you, of the expensive perfume you'd put on just a mere hours beforehand. "One could say that you're just being selfish," your words quickly died out when Toji started sucking on your pulse point, your own heartbeat betraying you. You'd expected Toji to sass you back, say something about how your body was just so needy against his touch.

But instead, he dropped down to his knees in front of you. The wooden floor underneath his knees almost made him feel bad for all the times he had you in a similar position. Almost. Toji looked up at you, "Selfish only when it comes to you."

Every slow drag of his fingertips across your smooth skin seemed almost reverent— like you were something to worship. You were, he just failed to realize that until now. Until you were almost out the door. "I'm sorry," the first real apology of the night slipped out of his mouth, his lips pressed against your shin. "I'm sorry," he moved up to your knee, repeating the action. Hushed whispers of I'm sorry's and featherlight kisses moving up your legs, stopping only when he gets to your clothed cunt.

"I'm sorry," Toji uttered his last apology against your cunt, his eyes locking onto yours as he applied an open mouthed kiss on your clothed clit. Barely darting his tongue out, swirling it against the nerves that were just begging for one ounce of stimulation. And he was practically reveling in how needy he made you in the span of seconds. Your back arched to rest against the seat behind you, one of your hands going to rest on his head.

Toji's fingers dragged slowly in between your folds, feeling the wet patch already starting to form through the thin lace material. You refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if you did, he'd be able to see just how desperate you were in just a manner of seconds. Even if the bastard probably had a clue already. "You sure your pussy agrees with the divorce?" His voice came out to something akin to a purr, the drag of his fingers slowing down.

Getting you even more worked up than you were already. "Fucking hate you, can't even apologize right," you let out a hiss, your hand going down to his hair. Pulling his head even closer to you despite your previous claim. "Fine, I'll apologize correctly," Toji sounded like you were the one inconveniencing him—to which you were. He wanted to take his time with his meal, have you begging for him to touch you. And normally, he would've.

If he weren't desperate to have your cunt on his face again after weeks, months? of just having his fist to work with. His fist and a used pair of your panties up to his nose like a pervert, hips humping the air in desperation. Imagining that it was your tongue flicking across his leaking tip instead of his thumb, that it was your soft hands in exchange of his rough ones. And as easy as it was for him to get laid—he didn't want to be with anyone that wasn't you.

Toji hadn't tasted someone as sweet as you, heard someone so angelic before, but now he supposed that maybe he'd have to put that theory to the test if you left him after all. Just the idea was maddening. That someone else would be doing the same thing that he's doing to you now, that they'd give you the affection that he should've given.

"Especially sorry to you. Been neglecting you for too long," he hooked his fingers around the side of your panties, pulling them to the side just enough to reveal your slick folds to him. Toji swiped the tip of his finger along your entrance, your slick glistening against the harsh kitchen lighting before he stuck in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, licking away at it like the slut he was.

And like the deprived man that he'd been, Toji's hands went to the lace of your underwear and stretched it out until a loud rip echoed throughout the kitchen. "You always this wet for people you hate? Or is that just for me?" Toji taunted, pushing your tattered panties down to your ankles. Finally leaning in closer to where you were aching for him to touch you. To do something other than just tease you relentlessly.

Toji settled on his knees behind you, spreading your legs open like you were his favorite meal. His tongue swiped up on your dripping cunt, licking up your essence with sheer greed. "Mmph fuck, so good," his words came out muffled, his tongue swiping across your folds before darting inside of your cunt. Your grip on the table tightened, your hips working on their own accord to push back onto his face. Practically suffocating him in your pussy. Not that he minded. By any means.

Toji practically welcomed it, his hands pushing you down onto his face. Getting absorbed in your cunt completely. "A-Ah fuck, Toji!" You could already see the noise complaint hanging on your front door first thing in the morning. But how could you be expected to keep your voice down? Toji spread your folds apart with two fingers as if he were preparing for a feast, his tongue feverishly licking in between.

"Fuckin' soaked already, knew you loved me," The vibration of the low chuckle that followed his words shot currents up your spine, your ass jiggling all that much more in his face. With such a decadent taste coating his taste buds, dying by your pussy would be nothing short of a blissful way to go out. One of the fingers that he'd been using to spread your folds had been pushed inside of your cunt, your walls clenching around him.

Toji's tongue flicked against your clit, swirling the tip around the bud while his finger slowly pushed further inside of you. The loud squelch of your cunt was the only thing that filled the apartment, everything else completely silent. Your fingers dug deeper into his scalp, a low groan leaving his lips. "F-Fuck, Toji Toji," he pushed another thick finger inside, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

"You think y're gonna find someone who can do this?" Toji looked up at you, his fingers curling up to hit that spongy spot inside of you almost perfectly. And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost say that he looked vulnerable while he made the question. Toji's lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it as his fingers worked you closer and closer to your orgasm. You couldn't bring yourself to answer—didn't trust yourself to speak.

"Toji, Toji, gonna cum," you gave him a warning, your jaw falling slack and your lips parting in a o-shape. Soundless moans leaving your lips, feeling that coil in your lower tummy start to tighten up all the much more. With one final pump of his fingers, you were covering his lips with your release. His tongue swiped across his lips, across the scar that he hated, collecting every drop. Savoring what he imagined would be the last taste of you.

"Turn around," It was almost embarrassing how quickly you'd turned around per your soon-to-be ex husband's request.

Toji didn't take more than a couple seconds in unbuttoning his pants and taking them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. Precum dribbled from his annoyingly almost pretty pink tip, dripping onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. His cock slid through your folds like a slip n slide, your previous orgasm coating his tip with every lazy drag. "Toji," your voice bordered on a whine, pushing your hips to try to meet his movements.

"Tell me what you want," Toji clicked his tongue, one of his hands moving to hold your waist. Keeping you completely still until he got what he wanted. You figured there wasn't any harm in whining—you were already fucking the man after you brought up a divorce. There truly wasn't that much more to lose. "Why do I have to ask for it when you're the one apologizing?"

"Because you're the one pushing your hips back against me. All needy 'n shit. So.. beg."

"Want you inside me, Toji. Please."

"Want?"

You let out a huff before correcting yourself, "Need."

"Come on, doll. You can say it nicer than that, right?" Toji's pointer trailed up your torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

So goddamn annoying. You swallowed whatever pride you had left before looking back over at him, "Please, Toji. Need your cock in me. Please."

Toji clicked his tongue, one hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a couple tentative pumps. "Think you can beg better than that. But since I'm feeling nice, I guess I'll let it slide." So much for feeling apologetic. Toji pushed his cock inside of you in one swift motion, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. Even with the fingers that'd been inside of you, nothing could've really prepared you.

"You okay?" Toji dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, whispering the words in your ear. Staying still while your walls tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. "You try taking your cock," you muttered dryly, giving him a nod to start moving. "Why would I do that when you take it so well?" Toji pushed the rest of his cock inside, his hands resting on your hips.

Toji wasn't particularly known for being gentle—the one hospital visit after he'd injured your cervix more than enough proof of that, but he started off slow. Slow, shallow thrusts. Fucking you in a way that he hasn't since your honeymoon. "Toji, you can speed up," you assured him, your words getting cut off with a smack to your ass. "What I'd say about tellin' me what to do?" Ah, there was the mean Toji that you recognized.

"Wouldn't need to tell you what to do if my vibrator wasn't looking more appealing right now."

Famous last words.

The change was almost immediate. Mascara dribbled down your cheeks, the sight of your once composed makeup all ruined making Toji's cock twitch inside of you. "Fucking pretty like this, y'know?" His teeth sunk down on the junction of your shoulder, his teeth grazing across the sensitive flesh. His hips snapped roughly into yours, your breathing growing erratic. "Fuck, Fuck, Toji!"

The coldness of his gold wedding band hit your skin as soon as he went to grip your hips, holding you against him like he needed to be close to you. The two of you had been distant for some time and he hadn't bothered to take off his wedding band once, not even on the rare occasion that he actually did happen to take a job. Toji would never admit it, of course—but he was starved for the feeling of your skin against his own.

To confirm that you were still here after all.

Your hands reached out to grab to whatever you could grab—anything, and of course, it just happened to be the divorce papers sitting on the middle of the table. Practically taunting you as your own signature glared back at you. "This good enough for you, princess?" Toji taunted in your ear, his blunt fingernails digging into your sides. "Mhm, j-just like that," your voice came out in a mewl, all bits of defiance completely out of your system.

"There you go. Nasty fucking girl," Toji all but purred in your ear the moment you started to jerk your hips back to meet his own, your ass bouncing with each one of his thrusts. "Just needed Toji to take care of ya," all you could was nod your head fervently, your grip on the divorce papers tightening. And Toji, of course, took notice. He took the papers from you with one hand, giving them a once-over before passing them back over.

"Come on, since ya wanted it so bad, read me those divorce papers," Toji handed you the stack of papers, pointing to where you'd signed your initials just a couple hours prior. Your hands shook as you held the papers, your vision blurry as you tried to make out the legal jargon in front of you. Even the simplest of words seemed all too complicated to try to make out.

"T-Toji, I can't," your voice cracked, your grip on the papers tightening when his cock reached all that much deeper inside of you. Toji clicked his tongue, peering over your shoulder to read the first sentence from the document. "That's not what it says ma, try again."

"Without all the stuttering too."

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the words in front of you instead of Toji's cock sinking further and further into you. "S-Says that the divorce agreement was made today between us," you clutched the sheets tighter, your eyes almost rolling back when Toji bottomed out inside of you. The tip of his cock dripping precum, your walls fluttering as you tried to get adjusted.

"Mm, yeah, keep goin'," Toji really couldn't care—his focus solely on the way that your cunt stretched out to fit his cock. Leaking around his shaft, loud squelches when he pulled out overplaying whatever shitty soap opera was playing. "And what'd I say about the s-stuttering?" Toji mocked your words, his own hips stuttering mere seconds later while he tried not to get absorbed in your cunt. Not that it was an easy task by any means.

It was hard, especially with the way that you claimed to be over this marriage despite your pussy claiming otherwise. When you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that left you was a moan. "F-Fuck Toji, right there," your eyes shut tightly at the touch of his calloused hand making itself in between your legs, his thumb rubbing at your clit in a speed that felt like it combated his own running abilities.

"That's not what it says, c'mon," Toji grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, turning your head to face the overwhelmingly long divorce papers. You wouldn't finish tonight if he intended for you to read the whole thing, you knew that much. A harsh slap against your swollen clit made the pleasure coursing through your veins mix with pain, a shaky gasp leaving your kiss-swollen lips.

Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, the black ink smearing with each drop that fell from your parted lips. Your walls enveloped every inch of his cock perfectly, your cunt holding his cock in a vice-like grip. "That I won't try to t-take your things," you managed to get out, hoping that it would be good enough. You knew the two of you wouldn't finish today if he made you read the never ending stack of papers. 

"Good enough," Toji sounded like he would've kept it going if he could, but you set them down as quickly as he spoke. It was almost like Toji was trying to remind you of why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place—the man reverent to your cunt and your cunt only. Every grip of your hips kept you closer and closer to his body, almost as a way for Toji to make sure you weren't slipping away.

"Wh—" Before you had the chance to complain about the loss of contact, Toji had already carried you without a smidge of struggle. His hands hooked underneath your plush thighs, hoisting you up against the wall. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his slutty waist, practically clinging onto him like a koala. "There we go, there's that pretty lil face," Toji placed his pointer underneath your chin, taking in the view in front of him.

The glazed over look in your eyes, the sweat beading up on your forehead, the makeup that he'd successfully ruined—everything about you was just so beautiful. How you tried to avoid looking in his direction for too long. "Don't leave me ma, need you in my life," the words were whispered into your ear, his cock pushing back inside of you in one swift motion. Toji's fingers went back to your throbbing clit, his pointer and middle rubbing against it at the perfect speed.

Not too fast, not too slow, and not too rough.

"Don't ask me to do that," you almost sounded pained as you spoke—not from him filling you up, but for the implication of his words. You'd practically babble anything right now, anything for him to keep going. To forget about the reality that awaits the two of you. Toji's lips found yours in an instant, the exchange between the two of you almost depraved. His mouth was feverish in the way that it moved against yours, like he'd never get the chance again.

Your hand went to the back of his head, pushing him closer against you. Letting yourself forget for just a little while longer. A string of saliva connected your lips to his when you pulled away—only to catch air. "I’m close, Toji, so close," you whined against his lips, your release coating his shaft a mere moments later. Toji only used that as lubricant, his movements quicker against your cunt to chase his own release.

"There's no one else for me, I'll stop goin' to t-the casino, stop gettin' into trouble," Toji had been reduced to a babbling the first thing he pulled out of his ass, if only to get you to stay. His head rested against the junction of your neck, basking in the remnants of proximity that he could get. Shaky breaths left his lips with each thrust of his hips, feeling himself getting closer and closer. "You've been saying that since we've been married."

"I mean it this time, I promise," you'd never heard a lie sound so pretty slipping from someone's lips before until now.

He bit down on the side of your neck, hard. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to where you'd probably have to use a tube of concealer to even attempt to cover up the bruising mark. Causing you problems even now. But you'd be lying if the sudden act of possessiveness had your walls clenching against him even tighter, if that was even possible anymore.

His cock was barely moving against the tight grip you held around his shaft, his pace stuttering. "Fuck, fuck, so tight," Toji let out a loud groan, completely at the will of your pussy. He threw his head back, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks in this lighting. Ropes and ropes of cum decorated your cunt, his softening length snug inside of you. Toji ended up pulling out a couple moments later, scooping the drops of cum that leaked down your thighs with his finger.

Toji was shameless in the way that he stuck the finger in his mouth, a low moan leaving his lips at the combined taste of him and you. Before your rationality came back, before you got the chance to even think about regretting this, you leaned in and crashed your lips against his own. Tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss lingered between the two of you more than it needed to, it was less rushed than the prior ones you'd shared.

Like a last taste.

"So, you still want to get that divorce?" Toji knew you would've just babbled whatever for him to keep going, saving the question until now. His movements were almost reluctant as he pulled his pants over his legs once again, making little attempt to fix up his hair. If anything, his fingers only ended up messing the strands even more. Despite knowing the answer deep down, Toji still held out hope. That maybe you'd had some eye-opening moment while he was balls-deep.

You stood up properly, looking over at the ruined sheets on the table before looking back over at him. "I do," you spoke after a couple seconds, grabbing your tattered panties from the floor and smoothing over your dress. Trying to maintain whatever semblance of dignity you had left. Even if it was probably just as tattered up as your underwear at this point.

"Why? You know I love you. You know that you love me. So why should we get separated?" You did know that. But you also weren't sure that he'd ever loved you enough to consider changing. To consider the fact that you needed some sort of affection outside of sex.

"Because you think that somehow every problem between us can be resolved with sex. You say that you want to do better and yet, you never do. It doesn't even feel like you're my husband half of the time," all the bottled up feelings from the past couple months spilled out of you in a manner of seconds. All the bottled up thoughts that maybe you should've told your husband about earlier. Though, you weren't even sure if Toji would've paid it any mind.

And almost as if he'd read your train of thought, "Why didn't you tell me about all this before just hittin' me with divorce papers?"

"Because the few times that I did, you told me to stop bitching. That I shouldn't have anything to complain about with a roof over my head and a fridge full of food," you started off, almost waiting for him to deny what you were saying, "And while I'm not saying that I'm not thankful for those things, I also don't want to feel ungrateful for saying that I miss my husband."

Silence lingered between the two of you, each second that passed by only confirming what the two of you already knew by now. That a divorce wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Toji knew there wasn't left to even attempt fighting for, so he simply just told you, "I'll sign 'em when you get the new ones."

[naughtyneganjdm]

Threads of Desire: A Christmas to Remember - Chapter 4

Summary: After her night with Daryl, Y/N goes into work and discovers that Negan is already there waiting for her, desperate for a conversation. Multiple events lead to the two of them growing closer with Negan starting to realize he was blind to things in the past and it makes him feel guilty.

Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Maggie Greene, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61111030/chapters/157485796

Warnings: Swearing, Cheating, Angst, Smut, Heavy Touching, A moment of non-con, etc.

Notes: I edited this at 2 in the morning. I'm sure I could have done a better job, but it's the best I have for now. In this chapter, there is some non-con in this chapter that could be uncomfortable for some reading. I want to put it out there beforehand.

Waking up this morning was hard. First, it was the hangover. The gnawing, aching migraine that felt miserable. Even opening her eyes was incredibly hard because the light that was filtering into the apartment increased the ache she was feeling. That was the alcohol hitting her back. Then it was the fact she didn’t have an alarm set. So by the time she woke up at Daryl’s place, she had no idea where she was or when it was. It took a while for her to gather herself. And surprisingly? She didn’t give a fuck when she woke up this morning. That wasn’t like her at all. Maybe after last night she decided to say fuck the world and do her own thing because at that moment? Nothing mattered to her.

At some point during the night she had fallen asleep only to wake up with Daryl laying face first into the pillows with his arm loosely hooked around her waist. Being in that position only reminded her how much Daryl actually wanted more out of their friendship. And that’s why she thought sleeping with him was wrong in the first place. But that didn’t stop her. Which really made her feel bad the longer she thought about it.

Daryl was always incredibly shy. It took a lot for her to even get him to say more than a sentence or two when they were hanging out together when they first started spending time together. And originally she had just thought they were friends. When Maggie and Negan slept together and she walked in on it? She was devastated. And she went to Daryl who said the most amazing things to her. They were both drunk and they fell into one another. Daryl had always commented that she should have fell in love with him instead of Negan, but she always thought he was joking at first. But it didn’t take long for her to realize that Daryl did in fact have feelings for her. The only bad thing is that her feelings for Negan had always clouded those that she had for Daryl. The crush on Negan came first. Part of her had wished she met Daryl first because then she wouldn’t have such conflicting feelings about everything.

Getting out of the bed wasn’t that hard. Daryl was a heavy sleeper. So that meant that he wouldn’t wake up when she left. It took her longer to get ready and before she left, she wrote him a note. Running away without saying some kind of goodbye after having sex last night was an absolute no-no in her book. Putting the note on the pillow she slept on last night, she knew that she needed to head out. Even though she would have rather stayed with Daryl to hang out for the rest of the day instead. Being late today was one thing, but if she was exceedingly late she knew she’d never hear the end of it.

But the biggest problem? She didn’t have any clothes at Daryl’s. She had the clothes Daryl gave her and the dress she wore to the event. That meant she had to run to the store to get something nice enough to wear to work.

But because of her being late? That meant no coffee shop stop to pick up Maggie’s favorite drink. It was her having to run straight to work to get done what she needed to. Which was prepare Maggie for her meeting. Check the e-mails. See if there were any messages. Daily chores that Maggie had for her before Maggie even got to work. Then again? She even questioned if she would have gotten Maggie that stupid drink in the first place. From here on out, she really didn’t feel like running to that coffee shop every morning. What was the point in going above and beyond for someone that wasn’t even her friend and made that evidently clear? There was none.

Getting to work, she wished one of the stops she would have made was at a store to pick up some Tylenol. The headache that she had only grew worse with this cold weather and not having something all day was going to suck. There was no questioning that Maggie was going to be furious with her today. Especially since she didn’t go out of her way to get that drink and she showed up a few hours later than she normally did. Maggie would see that as her being rebellious after what she discovered. And she could only picture what she was in for today.

Last night after they had slept together, Daryl had extensively attempted to get Y/N to reconsider her decision about staying at the company. Daryl wanted her to quit. Listing off all the reasons she didn’t need to be there. And while she appreciated the idea of Daryl letting her live in his apartment for a while, she didn’t want to be a loser. Anything she did, she wanted to do on her own. Which meant keeping her head down and doing what she could here until she could find another job. Daryl promised her safety and assured her she would have a place to stay, but that was a last resort for her. If nothing else worked, moving in with Daryl didn’t seem so bad. It was nice that she had someone who promised that they wouldn’t let anything happen to her. There was just one thing that Daryl couldn’t keep safe. And that was her relationship with Negan’s daughter, Jordyn. Nothing was more important to her than Jordyn. So she didn’t want to piss Maggie off that bad.  

That didn’t mean she forgot everything that happened or the things that she learned. Last night confirmed a lot of things for her. And that would change their friendship moving forward. Because now? She knew that their whole friendship was a sham. It was fake. A steppingstone for Maggie to feel better about herself. So that was something Y/N was going to have to live with too.

Waiting for the elevator today was twice as annoying as normal. Instead of pushing herself in with the large group of people waiting to get up, she just stood in the back until she could get a less busy one. But even the sound of the elevator was increasing the tension in her head. And it made her groan out. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she wished she would have just stayed at Daryl’s. This was stupid. She could have maybe gotten away with one day off from work with Maggie. Made Maggie panic a bit. Because her head was throbbing.

Waiting for everyone to get off the elevator, she was the last to leave. Dragging her feet along, she didn’t lift her head until she almost reached the office. But when she did? She felt her chest aching at the sight. Standing up from the couch in the office once he saw her near was Negan.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath noticing the way that his hazel eyes were locked on her already. It was too fucking early for this and she already felt terrible. With how quickly she rushed out this morning, she could only imagine how awful she must have looked. But him? He looked good. He always looked good. His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a pair of his black, thick framed glasses.

Pausing for a moment as she reached out for the door to the office, she wondered what she would even say. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to him right now. After the mess of things she made last night and what she learned with Maggie cheating, she didn’t even want to see Negan for a long time. It would have been nice if there was someone that could have helped her get Negan out of that office, but she knew that everyone else was busy. And no one would do her any favors.

Lifting her head again she realized that there was a drink carrier with coffees on Maggie’s desk and it made her scoff. Assuming those were for Maggie had her rolling her eyes. Well, today would be like every other day.

“Keep your head down, say nothing,” she coached herself, so badly wanting this whole thing to be over with. If she could have gone back and erased everything she said from Negan’s mind, she wished she could have. Then again? She wished she could have erased what she had seen happen between Guy and Maggie too. That would have made seeing Negan much easier today. Pushing forward, she headed into the office. Opening the door, she stepped inside and it had Negan stepping forward. Shoving his hands into his pockets, it looked like Negan wanted to say something but the color drained from his face. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” he repeated back what she had said, his hazel eyes following her movements when she set the presentation drawings down in the corner of the room on Maggie’s drawing table. Right now? She was avoiding Negan at all costs, moving around the office like he wasn’t even there. Heading over to the desk, she sat down in the chair and saw out of the corner of her eye that Negan was approaching it. “If you’re waiting for Maggie, she’s going to be a little while longer.”

“I’m not waiting for Maggie,” Negan grunted, his brow line creasing when he got to the area beside her. Sitting on the corner of the desk, his eyes were locked on her and he shrugged. “I’m here for you. I went to your apartment this morning, but you weren’t there. So I came here.”

Pausing after logging into Maggie’s computer, she pushed the chair back and her eyes connected with Negan. Leaning back, Negan grabbed the drink that he had gotten for her. Holding it out for her, Negan teased it just beneath her nose, “I got you your favorite. Well, what I think your favorite still is after this long. I got you what your favorite was when the two of us were spending a lot of time together.”

Thinking things over, the realization started to set in. Exhaustion was still eating away at her. Accepting the latte that Negan had gotten for her, she took a sip of it. Giving a nod, she set it beside her and cleared her throat uneasily, “It’s still my favorite.”

“Good,” Negan seemed proud, reaching for the coffee that he had gotten himself. “It means my memory isn’t as shit as I thought it was.”

“Why are you here?” she wondered, clutching tightly to the coffee cup that Negan had gotten for her. “And why would you even bother going to my apartment this morning? Last night was a mess. One we need to forget and just pretend didn’t happen.”

“Because you wouldn’t answer your phone or any of your texts,” Negan explained, shrugging his shoulders, a frown tugging at his handsome features. “How else am I gonna get you to talk to me? This was the only place I knew you would be.”

“I have a lot of work to do Negan,” she stressed to him, going back to look through the e-mails that were on the computer. “If I don’t get through all of these, Maggie is going to be really upset with me. She’s going to want me to have these finished by the time she gets here. Plus I have to prepare her things for her meeting today. Usually I get here much earlier than this, but I slept in this morning and…”

“I think you needed to sleep in this morning,” Negan suggested, tipping his head to the side before taking a sip of his coffee. “Hopefully you got a lot of sleep last night after you ran off on me and scared the shit out of me when you wouldn’t answer your phone. A drunk girl running through the streets of New York so late at night isn’t the best of ideas.”

Thinking about how last night went, she licked her lips and shifted in Maggie’s chair uncomfortably, “I’m a big girl Negan, I can take care of myself. And as for sleep? Not as much sleep as I would have wished to have gotten.”

Elaborating was not part of the plan there.

Pushing his way between her and the computer, Negan made it so she wouldn’t be able to go through the e-mails that she did every morning. Huffing out, she snatched her coffee from the desk again and held onto it. Negan’s eyes were staring down at her and she felt like a child in that moment.

“I think Maggie will cope if you don’t do exactly what she should be doing every morning, not you,” Negan suggested, his jaw flexing when he made it clear that he wasn’t about to let her get to her work. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. I’m here to talk to you and I’m not leaving you alone until we talk today.”

“Negan, there is nothing to say,” she frowned, forcing herself to look away from his hazel eyes. So badly she wanted to tell him everything, but she knew what the outcome would be if she did. Nothing but trouble for her and she couldn’t cause tension that would keep her away from Jordyn. “I was overly emotional last night and I let things get to me. Usually I’m good at keeping my mouth shut. Last night, I wasn’t. Trust me, it’s not going to happen again, so you don’t have to worry.”

“But I’m already worried,” Negan slurred, clicking his tongue against the top of his mouth. “You can’t tell me not to fucking worry when I’m already worried. It’s there. It isn’t leaving me. So fuck the whole don’t worry thing. What I saw and heard yesterday? That’s not something I’m used to. At all. So, I’m pretty fucking worried.”

“You have your own family to worry about,” she reminded him, still having a hard time looking at Negan. Both from what she did in front of him and what she knew about Maggie. “I appreciate that you care enough about me to come and check in on me, but I don’t matter at the end of the day. Especially when it comes to your life.”

“You matter very much to me,” Negan stammered, his raspy voice growing more concerned with the way she was talking about things. “I don’t want you to end up in a place like I was when you had to help me through things. That’s a place I never want to end up back in, but more than anything that’s a place I never want to see someone that I care about end up. It’s a fucked up place.”

“I don’t have time to end up in a place like that,” she assured Negan, taking another sip of the latte that he had gotten for her. Lifting her eyes, she stared up at him. There was genuine concern in his expression and she didn’t even know why. “If I had time to sit to myself and think about all the woes in my life, then yeah. I might end up in a place like that. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately in this case, my job doesn’t allow me the time for that. Is my life miserable? Yeah. Do I hate my job? Yes. I do. Do I think things that I want to so desperately say but then end up not saying them? Yes. But that’s life. We all have to go through things we don’t want to.”

“And I’d like you to talk to me about those things,” Negan explained, sucking at his bottom lip after she rolled her eyes. “Come on, this isn’t like you. The two of us are close and you are trying to push me away so hard.”

Feeling her phone buzzing, she reached for it to take a quick look to see that Daryl had texted her something.

Be fierce today. You’ve got this.

It made her smile that he sent her that. Especially after everything she had gone through.

“For good reasons,” she pushed her seat forward toward the computer tapping at Negan’s hip in attempts to get him to move. “Maggie is going to kill me if her e-mails aren’t checked and finished by the time that she gets here.”

“I want you to take a day off,” Negan announced, curling his fingers firmly around her wrist to give it a firm squeeze. “My mom has Jordyn out for a grandma fun day. So come on. Be a rebel and spend the day with me. Like we used to. We’ll walk around. Maybe go to the Bryant Park Christmas Village. Go to lunch. Find things to do. And then you can come over tonight. Jordyn will be happy to have you there. We’ll play video games, I’ll make you a really nice dinner. We can watch Christmas movies together. Have hot chocolate by the fire. If you’re lucky, I’ll even put those tiny marshmallows in yours.”

“While that sounds amazing Negan, I can’t do that anymore,” she noticed that he wasn’t letting go of her wrist. Setting down her latte, her free hand covered his. A frown tugged at his features with her turning him down. “I have a job. One where it doesn’t allow me to be able to do something like that. I would love to take off with you and spend all day with you. But I’m not that girl that can just drop everything for you anymore. I have bills to pay. Or I lose everything.”

“I think Maggie will understand. She wouldn’t want you being this upset,” Negan thought aloud, but that made Y/N smile and shake her head. “Maggie is your friend and if she knew how you were feeling, I’m sure that she would support what I’m trying to suggest here. No one would want you to be suffering like this.”

“I don’t think that’s at all what Maggie would think,” she stressed to Negan, hooking her fingers with his. Getting him to lower his hand, she nodded toward the computer again. Hinting to him that this was a must that she had to get done.

Sliding over, it was only a moment before the sound of the door being pushed open was heard. Both of them looked to the door to see what appeared to be an overwhelmed Maggie carrying multiple things in her arms. Big glasses covered her eyes and she looked infuriated.

“Shit,” Y/N breathed under her breath. She’d gotten nothing done. The only thing she had done was make sure to bring the presentation that was needed today. Today, she was going to be in for it. And by the time that Maggie finally realized that Negan was sitting there with Y/N? Maggie looked like she could absolutely die right there on the spot.

“Morning,” Negan waved, his eyes following Maggie’s movements when she dropped everything down on the couch. Tugging her sunglasses from her face, Maggie looked between Y/N and Negan. Maggie looked like she could have fainted right then and there. Right now? Y/N was certain that Maggie thought she was telling Negan all about what she had learned the night before.

“Morning,” Maggie slurred her words, letting them linger when she stepped closer to the desk. Lowering down had Negan meeting her halfway in a quick kiss. With Negan kissing her back, Maggie could tell that they were still okay and it seemed like a large amount of weight was lifted from her shoulders. “What are you doing here honey?”

“Well,” Negan paused to consider what he was going to say. Looking back to Y/N, his Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and he shrugged. “Truthfully? Y/N and I were having a conversation last night. Then she remembered something she had to do and hopped out of my car. So I came here this morning to check in on her. And I was hoping to finish that conversation.”

“What about?” Maggie acted like she wasn’t all that interested, her green eyes hooking with Y/N’s. Shaking her head, Y/N let her know the best way that she could that she didn’t tell Negan about what she walked in on last night with Maggie and Guy. Forcing herself to look away from Y/N, Maggie didn’t want it to be clear that they were communicating without really saying anything.

“It’s kind of between the two of us,” Negan alerted Maggie getting an offended breath from Maggie. Hearing that surprised Y/N. Having Negan tell Maggie that she wasn’t allowed to know what they talked about? Well that was shocking. “It was just a conversation between two friends. I’m sorry Mags, but sometimes I think things should stay personal between two people. If she’s comfortable enough to talk to you about things in the future, then that’s on her. But right now? It’s between us.”

“Now I’m suddenly curious,” Maggie looked to Y/N who dramatically shrugged at Negan’s response. Thankfully Negan didn’t mouth vomit everything. Because that would have been bad for her in the end anyways. “Neither one of you keep things from me.”

Both Negan and Y/N laughed immediately at that comment eliciting a frustrated grunt from Maggie, “I guess I trusted you both more than I thought?”

“There are some things you just don’t need to know,” Y/N stressed to Maggie since Maggie had pretty much made her life miserable over the last four plus years. Keeping her personal life from Maggie just seemed like a good idea. While she wished it wasn’t the case, if Maggie knew about some things in her life she was certain that Maggie would ruin them. Just like she did with Negan and this job. “Do you tell me everything?”

“For the most part…” Maggie started, but the glare that Y/N gave her was obviously directed at what they had talked about the night before. “No, I guess you’re right. There are some things that need to be kept to ourselves.”

“Exactly,” Negan snapped his fingers, a big cheesy smile tugging at his handsome features. “I was actually hoping that you would give Y/N a break today and let her take today off so we could go on an adventure.”

“We?” Maggie repeated what she heard nervously, color flooding into her cheeks. “And by we…you mean?”

“Oh, just the two of us,” Negan wiggled his finger between him and Y/N. Hearing that had Maggie in a panic. And it was plastered all over her face. There was a sense of pride from that for Y/N. “I started to think about it, I considered Y/N to be my best friend before I started dating you. Then we got together and I just started to spend all my extra time with you. That’s not really fair to my friend, y’know? I went from really spending every extra moment I had with her, to spending it all with you. I thought it would be cool to do something with her today. Like old times. Y/N does so much for me helping out with Jordyn. I thought it would be nice to give her a day out.”

“I see,” Maggie’s eyes locked with Y/N and, in that moment, Y/N knew that Maggie was furious with the idea that Negan had come up with. “While that sounds nice, and I’m sure she’d love to do that with you, she actually is going to be very busy today.”

“I’m sure you could survive one day without her,” Negan stood up from the desk, walking around it. Locking eyes with Maggie, he was almost pleading with her to let Y/N go with him. “I’m sure you could handle your messages, e-mails and what not for the rest of the day.”

“You didn’t finish the e-mails and messages?” Maggie looked beyond Negan with Y/N lowering her head down to her hand to bury it there. Oh, today was going to be fun. Snapping his fingers again, Negan got Maggie’s attention and had her huffing out. “It’s not just that Negan. You see…”

“Have you told her yet?” a booming voice caused all of them to jump with the door being thrown open. Getting everyone’s attention, Guy took his sunglasses off hooking them to his silky white shirt. Once again, Guy was dressed very fashionably. To add to the white shirt was a pair of white slacks and white loafers. His dark hair was groomed nicely, a small amount of stubble over his face and his brown eyes were locked with Y/N’s. “Why does it look like nothing has been done yet?”

“I haven’t had the time to tell her,” Maggie stammered, searching for the right words. Nervousness flooded Y/N’s veins when Guy moved around the desk toward her. “I was thinking, I’m not really sure that it’s the best idea Guy because…”

“Blasphemy. Anyone who walks through a snowstorm in the middle of the night to assure that your work is here bright and early deserves a chance to experience what it’s like to be in the middle of everything,” Guy hushed Maggie, reaching for Y/N to get her to stand up and step before him. “What you’re wearing is cute, but it’s not going to work for today. I’ve already called a place down the street. They work with me, get me some things last minute. I assumed your size and requested a dress from them. I’m going to need you to go grab it, put it on and rush back here. They are going to have you try it on there in case it doesn’t fit. They’ll have you pick out some shoes to go with it. Help you through the process. And if you want to, grab some jewelry that will go nice with it. I’ll pay for everything.”

“I uh…I’m sorry. But what?” Y/N felt flustered with how quickly Guy was talking along with the way that he spun her around to get a look at her. Warmth was flooding into her face wondering what the hell was going on. “Why?”

“I’m going to have you join us in the meeting today. I just want to see you wearing something more…Vixen?” Guy stressed, waving his hand about while lowering his other hand that was still holding onto hers. “Maggie and I had a conversation about you. Being here for as long as you have been, I’d like to see what you are capable of.”

“I’m just a personal assistant,” she was flustered, but caught the expression that Negan was giving her when she looked beyond Guy’s shoulder. Throwing his thumbs up in the air, Negan gave a dramatic nod. Pointing to his mouth, he gave her a cheesy smile as if to suggest she should smile. Noticing the way that Y/N was looking over his shoulder, Guy looked back and it had Negan swiftly covering his mouth. It looked ridiculous with Negan forcing himself to look somewhere else while using his free hand to stroke down over his jaw. Smirking, Guy had obviously caught onto the fact that Negan was gesturing her to do something but decided not to say anything.

“Are you?” Guy stammered, his dark eyes narrowing when he gave his attention back to Y/N. And really? She didn’t know how to answer that. Obviously she did more than be Maggie’s personal assistant, but her job title was pretty much that alone. How would Guy know now of all times that she did more for Maggie than she should have. Out of frustration, it looked like Maggie tried to focus elsewhere when she moved around the desk to sit down at her computer. “Give me your cell phone.”

“Why?” she wasn’t sure what was happening, but when she dug into her pocket, Guy was quick to snatch it from her. Attempting to open it, Guy huffed and held it out for her so that she could open it for him. Going into her contacts, Guy was quick to put his number in that section. After, he sent himself a text so that way he would have her phone number too. During this whole thing, he kept motioning her to weight, holding up his index finger every so often since she was visibly uncomfortable with him holding her phone. Handing back her cell phone, Guy reached for his and sent her a text that appeared to be an address. “Something tells me that you will surprise me. So head down the street and get the dress I picked out for you. You know what time the meeting is.”

Yelping, she felt Guy pushing her toward the door followed by him smacking firmly at her ass. That wasn’t something she would really let anyone else get away with. But no one else said something, so she just assumed that she would keep her mouth shut in this moment. Grabbing her latte, she moved for her jacket with Guy watching her closely. Waving his hands to motion her to move faster, Guy sat on the corner of Maggie’s desk. By the expression on Maggie’s face? She was furious.

“I’m going to walk with her,” Negan explained moving around Guy to grab his coffee before moving to the couch to pick up his jacket that he had taken off when he got here. Working it up his arms, Negan pointed toward Y/N who was already headed out the door. It looked like Maggie was about to complain, but with Guy there she simply nodded her head and went back to work. Fuck, she was already nervous enough, the last thing Y/N needed right now was having Negan following her. “Hey! Fucking wait for me.”

“Where can I go? You know the elevator takes forever and it’s not like I’ll be able to sneak away before you get to me,” she pointed toward the closed elevator doors, getting a frustrated glance from Negan as he approached. Hitting the down button a few more times, she knew it would do nothing, but there was the hope that she could get this all over with quickly. “I don’t know why you want to follow me. It’s not like I’m going to be able to open up to you about things on our walk over. I’m nervous enough as it is.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous, this is a good thing,” Negan hushed her, adjusting his jacket so that he had it on properly when he stepped in beside her. “You wanted more with this company and it looks like Guy wants to allow you have the opportunity for that.”

“But I’m wondering why,” she frowned, knowing that she couldn’t open up to Negan about what she knew. There were a few reasons that she figured Guy was doing this. One, he wanted her to keep her mouth shut about what she saw with him and Maggie. Two, he wanted to have sex with her because he really seemed to be stressing that idea last night in Maggie’s apartment. Or three, he was going to test her and if she didn’t prove herself to him, he’d fire her. So either way, none of the options were great. Especially since she knew that he wasn’t doing this all of a sudden because he recognized her talents. Where Negan saw this as something good, she saw it as something complicated and worrisome. Being on Guy Vixen’s radar after last night didn’t seem like the best thing in the world.

“Does it matter?” Negan really didn’t understand why she was acting upset about this whole thing. “We were just talking about things last night. How you wanted more. How you didn’t want to be just a personal assistant anymore. This is a good thing. Maybe Maggie and Guy talked about you and how talented you were.”

“I don’t think they talked about me and my talents last night,” she hushed Negan, holding her hand up because she knew what they were doing last night. Talking about her work was not one of those things.

“Why aren’t you happier about this?” Negan pushed, giving her arm a supportive squeeze. “You should be happy here. This is what you wanted. To feel seen. And now you’re being seen. Which is a good thing.”

“I’m not sure I’m happy with the way that I’m getting it,” she muttered, looking back over her shoulder to see through the glass panel walls that Guy and Maggie seemed to be bickering. Without meaning to, Y/N caught Guy’s attention when he realized that she was staring. Flashing her a smile and winking at her, Guy held up his hand to wave. It had a breath catching in her throat when she realized he was being flirty with her. “Truthfully? I think he wants to have sex with me.”

“He wants to…” Negan paused, looking back over his shoulder at the office just in time to see Guy waving at Y/N. Returning the gesture, Y/N waved and then turned on her heel to face the elevator again. Catching himself staring at Guy, Negan felt his face growing hot. “Isn’t he gay?”

“Apparently he’s pansexual,” she repeated what she had heard the night before from Maggie, clearing her throat uneasily. At least she wasn’t the only person to assume that Guy was gay. “That’s why I’m not so sure I deserve this or want this.”

Negan was still staring at Guy by the time the elevator opened. Realizing that it was near closing, Negan stumbled in and cussed to himself, “I doubt that’s the case. You heard him. He was impressed with you walking through a snowstorm to make sure that the work was done. Which…” Negan paused, his thick eyebrows furrowing. “How did he know that you did that?”

Well shit. There he was using his brain in that moment, “Oh,” she paused. Not she needed to think of something good that was honest without lying. Because Negan could always pick up on her lying for the most part. “When I got to Maggie’s apartment last night, she was there. I think Guy had walked her up to her apartment and they were still talking about…things.”

“So Maggie was home?” Negan confirmed leaving her wishing this elevator was a whole lot faster than it was. Everything inside of her was tense and it was so fucking hard even looking at Negan. “I tried calling her last night and she didn’t answer.”

“She was probably angry. The two of us were bickering,” she was quick to respond, but that also wasn’t a lie. Swaying too far from the truth with Negan would be too hard so she was going to be as honest as she could while leaving some details out. “You called her when she was likely distracted and pissed off. You know how I was last night Negan. I was drunk and not in the best of moods. No one would know that better than you.”

“Bickering? The two of you were fighting?” Negan gathered, his head tipping to the side with his right eyebrow arching in curiosity. “In front of Guy?”

“Yeah, kind of. I guess. He wasn’t really in the room we were in when we were having a heated discussion,” she thought back on last night knowing that Guy was mostly in Maggie’s bedroom when they were fighting it out with one another. After all these years being close to Negan, it was hard not just coming out and telling him the truth. In her opinion? He deserved to know everything. But with the threats she was given by Maggie, she knew that it wasn’t her place to tell him. “It was a complicated situation. I stormed out after our fight and maybe the two of them talked about me? Which makes this even worse for me. I don’t know if they talked about me in a good or bad way.”

“Lemme ask you this,” Negan began, stepping in closer to her in the elevator. Sweeping his finger in underneath her chin, he urged her to look up into his hazel eyes. Giving a weak smile, he shrugged his shoulders. “Do you really care how you ended up getting this chance? Maybe now is just your time. You rightfully deserve a moment to shine and experience things. Who cares if Maggie likes it or not. Or how you even got it.”

“Careful. That’s your girlfriend you’re talking about,” she warned, lifting her hand up to curl her fingers around his wrist. Getting him to lower his hand from her face, she felt her chest aching. The last thing he would really want to do is shit talk Maggie and she knew that. Shaking her head, she could feel a lump that was growing at the base of her throat. The sound of the elevator doors opening quieted them. The elevator stopped more times than she would have liked it to. Especially when she had a specific timeline that she had to get through with Guy. But? The one thing it did have was that Negan was incredibly close to her, pressing in near her with the amount of people that were surrounding them. Closing her eyes tightly, the scent of Negan’s cologne surrounded her and it sent chills throughout her body. It was intoxicating. There was something about the way that he smelled that drove her crazy with desire. Forcing herself to act normal, she spoke up in a whisper. “With the two of us? I’ll see you on Saturday. And we can talk then when we are with Jordyn.”

“Saturday is too far away for me,” Negan refused, biting down on his bottom lip. Pressing in closer to her, the warmth of his breath hovered over her ear and it sent chills down her spine. “And really? I want alone time with you. There is only so much we can talk about around Jordyn.”

“Saturday is close enough,” she countered, her heartbeat skipping hearing that he wanted alone time with her. In the past? She would have ate that shit up. Now? Not so much. “Negan, we spent four years with us having zero alone time together. We’ll handle that.”

Reminding him of how their relationship had been over the last few years seemed to infuriate Negan. Her last comment had him rolling his eyes, but it was honest. So she didn’t know why he got so upset about it, “If you want to talk? The two of us will figure something out before Christmas.”

“Yeah, see. That doesn’t work. I told myself the same thing four years ago when the two of us weren’t spending time together. We’ll make time. We’ll find time,” Negan listed off the things that he knew he would say over the last four years, but they never did. People were now starting to listen in on their conversation and it was annoying that they were. “I want to make time for you. We need to make time for each other.”

Thankfully, before she could respond, the doors were opening and people were leaving the elevator. Quickly making her move, she tried to get away from this conversation, but Negan was just as fast in following her, “Why?”

“Why not?” Negan stammered, the lines in his forehead growing. “You’re important to me. That’s why.”

“Thank you?” she stopped, not sure exactly what to say now. There was too much that was going on between them. Things that he didn’t even know and this was starting to get to be too stressful for her. Reaching for her phone, she copied the address and loaded the directions to the place into her phone. Right now, Negan seemed pretty desperate for her attention and she shrugged. “Okay. Why don’t you walk with me to the store? That’s the most free time I’m able to give you right now. It’s only a few blocks away.”

“Yeah. I’d like that,” Negan stammered, moving closer beside her when she started heading for the door. “I would prefer more than just this, but I’ll take what I can get right now.”

There was a silence between them. He’d never been this desperate for her attention, “So…when is your meeting?”

“In two hours,” she educated him, not sure on the exact time. “I’m still trying to determine what he even wants me there for.”

Wincing out, the windchill that surrounded them when they stepped outside the building was extreme. It was cold causing her to pull her jacket in closer to her body, but even that wasn’t doing much for her. Attempting to warm up in the best way that she could, she took a sip of the latte that Negan had gotten for her.

“Thanks again for the drink,” she did want to show him that she appreciated the gesture. Hell, all she wanted from Negan was his attention for four years. Right now? He was giving it to her and proving that he still knew her enough to get her the drink that she actually liked. “It was a very nice gesture.”

“Of course. I’m sorry I haven’t done it more often. I should have gotten you shit when I brought things for Maggie,” Negan acknowledged, bobbing his head about. “You know what it’s like. You get with someone and your brain gets unilaterally focused on that person. Making you a fucking idiot.”

Just nodding, she didn’t want to comment on that one. She’d been a fucking moron for over eight years at this point with how in love she had been with Negan. So she understood that statement more than he would ever know.

“I uh…” Negan began, his words coming out unsure. Finishing off his drink, Negan was quick to throw it away before stepping back beside her. “I do kind of want to talk to you about something we talked about last night.”

“I was drunk Negan. We don’t need to talk about last night,” she stressed to him, hating that it happened to begin with. More than anything she wanted to pretend that last night didn’t happen. “I made a fool of myself in front of you and I’m very embarrassed about it. So I’m sorry for that happening.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me. At all,” Negan refused to accept her apology, his face scrunching up. “I feel like I should have been aware of these things. You meant so much to me for so long and I just…I had to have someone smack me so to fucking speak to realize what I wasn’t doing right as a friend. I needed you to wake my ass up.”

Silence followed. So much could have been said, but she didn’t know how to respond. They were almost to the store, but Negan held his hand out to stop her from continuing. Turning to face her, Negan grasped at her shoulders and gave her an empathetic look.

“I don’t think you are stupid, pathetic or undesirable,” Negan blurt out in response to some of the things she said last night. And it made her want to die on the inside that he was bringing this back up. Dropping her head down, her heart kickstarted in her chest when he brought up the one thing that she wished he would have forgotten.

“I can’t do this right now,” she pulled away from him, her face growing hotter with embarrassment. The store wasn’t too much further away. Hopefully when they got there she would be able to get away from Negan and he would just take the hint.

“You need to hear it,” Negan grunted from behind her trying to catch up with her noticing that she was desperate to escape him. “Please. I don’t think you are any of those things. I think you’re the most amazing woman that I know.”

“Oh, come on Negan,” she abruptly stopped walking, turning to face him with an angered expression. “Stop with the lies. You don’t have to keep lying to me in order to make me feel better about things. Because lying doesn’t help. I’ve had enough of that.”

“I’m not lying to you,” Negan defended himself, his voice growing raspier with him trying to get her to listen to him. “I do think you are the most amazing woman I know. You took a broken person and you made them open their eyes to what was important. Showed me that life was worth living. And what you’ve done for Jordyn…? No one would do that shit. I don’t know how you could assume I would think any of those things about you.”

Giving her a rather pathetic expression with his big, hazel eyes had her frowning, “Negan, you laughed at the idea of me asking you why you never made a move on me. I think that was more than enough proof of how you made me feel last night. I felt stupid. And undesirable. And pathetic. So, there’s that.”

“But it wasn’t…” Negan dropped his head back with a groan when she left him in front of the store by walking away. Following her into the store, Negan stood back to allow her to speak to someone about Guy sending her over.  Once Guy Vixen’s name was dropped, the employees were eager to work with her dragging her throughout the store, asking her questions about what she liked and her clothing sizes. “Y/N?”

“Negan,” she looked over her shoulder to see that he was still following her. Leaving him on the street she felt like was a sufficient enough end to their discussion. “This is not a good time.”

“I realize that, but…” Negan paused when the employee pulled out the dress that Guy had gotten for her. They had Y/N look it over before handing it over to her explaining that when she got it on, they would be able to help her with anything that didn’t look right. Heading over toward the area they had people try on the clothes, Negan felt his throat tensing up when they were alone. Y/N was gazing upon herself in one of the mirrors, holding the dress up to her body attempting to determine if she would look good in it or not. “Did you want me to make a move on you in the past?”

All the color drained from Y/N’s face and he could see it with her reflection in the mirror. Gazing over her shoulder, there was a sense of misery in her eyes and it had him shrugging his shoulders, “Did you?”

Instead of saying anything, she turned on her heel and let out an extended breath. Holding the dress in her arms, her lips parted, but she stopped herself several times from saying anything to him at all, “I think it’s too late to be asking questions like that. Don’t you?”

That shocked him. It wasn’t the answer that he was expecting from her. And she simply just stood there, shaking her head when she thought of what to say next, “If you would have wanted to make a move, you would have.”

“Not necessarily,” Negan interrupted her, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. There was that annoyed smirk again where she definitely thought he was lying just to blow smoke in order to make her feel better. But he held his hand up trying to make it known that he was being honest. “Y/N, you were my student. All four of those years. You heard my view on the whole professor and student thing when we were talking about what Shane was doing. Having a relationship with your student was an abuse of power and…”

“Right, I was just your student,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing with Negan standing before her speechless. Now she felt the tension and the anger coming back. The only problem? She couldn’t use the alcohol as an excuse with the snark she was undoubtedly about to give him. “Was it normal for a student and their professor to flirt like we did? Or how about me taking care of your daughter? What about us laying in your bed for hours talking to each other? I think we were way past a student and professor relationship.”

“So you did want me to make a move on you?” Negan pushed, his jaw flexing with an emotion she couldn’t quite read. Looking around, Negan noticed that the store was empty except for a few stray employees that weren’t paying attention. “Why didn’t you say anything to me? I kept flirting with you. And you said nothing. I genuinely thought you just wanted to be friends.”

“Oh, come on Negan. Please don’t blame me for this. Every woman wants to be romanced by the man that they are interested in. But they don’t want to scream it from the rooftops that they want you to like them,” she chuckled having Negan’s long eyelashes fluttering. “I flirted back with you. And there were times where I felt like you were going to kiss me, but then it always just felt like a tease. You didn’t want it and I understand that.”

“I was your professor,” he reminded her with a bit of color flooding into his face.

“Negan,” she held her hand up knowing that this discussion was a waste of time. Pointing toward the fitting room, she could barely even look him in the eyes right now. “I’m going to get changed. Please just leave.”

“Y/N…” Negan breathed out her name. He didn’t know what to say. And she didn’t want to hear it really.

Turning on her heel, she went into the changing room and left Negan out there. It wasn’t the time or place for this. It was too much. Getting emotional right now wasn’t in the playing cards. It couldn’t happen. Not with the first chance that Guy was actually giving her.

Setting her things down, she pulled her jacket off and tossed it to the corner of the room. Getting her shirt up over the lengths of her body, she tossed the material aside toward the rest of her things. Gasping out, she heard the sound of the door behind her being pushed opened. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that it was Negan that was moving into her fitting room with her.

“Negan!” she felt her face getting hot, reaching for the shirt that she had tossed in attempts to cover herself up with it. Then again, she didn’t know why she was bothering. It wasn’t helping all that much. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m not leaving until we talk about things,” Negan whispered, closing the door behind him. Leaning back against it, his hazel eyes locked on hers with her covering her chest. A smirk tugged at his handsome features and he tipped his head to the side. “You’ve seen me naked Y/N.”

“Not by choice,” she half laughed with Negan folding his arms in front of his chest. Thankfully this changing room was big enough for them to be separated, but still. If someone noticed him coming into the room she wasn’t sure how the store would handle it. “I saw you naked because you were fucking the person that was living in the same apartment as me. And she liked to flaunt off your big dick in my face just to rub it in that you were hers.”

“You think it’s big?” Negan grunted, a wicked smirk tugging at his features. God, of course that was the only thing he heard in her statement.

“You’re such a man,” she rolled her eyes, sighing loudly before she tossed the material of her shirt aside. At this point, she didn’t even care that he saw her in her bra. “You already know the answer to that question. You just want to hear me say it’s big so you can get arrogant about things.”

“I didn’t realize you were looking,” Negan stressed, bobbing his head back and forth. “Does that mean you liked what you saw?”

“You were walking naked around the apartment all the time,” she was flustered with him, reminding him of what it was like when she lived with Maggie in their apartment together. “Kind of hard to miss. And don’t even start with that.”

“Fine, you don’t want to talk about that. We don’t have to. But, I still don’t think it’s fair that you get to see me naked and it’s no big deal. Whereas I just want to talk to you while you change and suddenly you have so many issues,” Negan argued, throwing his hand about seeing something change in her eyes. Nodding, she started to work open her pants after kicking out of her shoes. “I want to know why you didn’t talk to me about things back then.”

“Would you have cared?” she pushed down the material of her pants causing Negan to let out a tense breath. Folding her clothes up, she closed the distance between the two of them and shrugged. Standing before Negan in her bra and panties was not exactly something she had on her bingo card for today. “Because I don’t think you would have given a fuck. I was right there for the taking and you didn’t do a fucking thing.”

“I just…” Negan swallowed down hard, dropping his head to look between the two of them. Gazing at her breasts, Negan’s breathing grew broken and she laughed. Forcing himself to look up, Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced. Licking at his lips, Negan felt the warmth of her body close to his. “What?”

“I’m just starting to realize that my breasts are more impressive than I thought,” she explained considering the fact that Guy turned into an absolute mess last night over them. And both Negan along with Shane said something. “Or maybe men are just predictable.”

“We are, but that’s not what this is about,” Negan stammered, his lips parting when she stepped slowly away from him. Since he knew she was about to get dressed, he didn’t know if it would be inappropriate or not to continue to be this way. “Do you want me to turn around?”

“Do you want to turn around? You’re the one that barged in here complaining about how it wasn’t fair that I’ve seen you naked,” she reminded him of what he had just said to her, having his dimples becoming more prominent with the smirk he was giving her. “I guess I’m just having a hard time believing that it took you eight years to realize how I felt about you.”

“I was married for two of them. A mess for one of them,” Negan reminded her with her nodding her head about dramatically.

“And dating my best friend for four of them,” she finished up for him, sucking in a sharp breath of air. “And the sad thing is that I would have done fucking anything for you. I pretty much have when you really think about it.”

“What are you doing?” Negan stammered, biting down on his bottom lip when she reached behind her for the hook in her bra. The material loosened and his long eyelashes fluttered with his eyes lowering down.

“I need the bra off in order to wear the dress Negan,” she claimed, still keeping the material loose at her arms. Even though it was undone, she was still managing to cover her breasts. “If you would like to leave, you can turn around right now and wait for me to be done.”

Standing his ground, Negan lifted his head. The vein at the side of his neck slightly bulged while staring out at her. Snickering, she shrugged her shoulders and let the material drop down. Allowing her breasts to be revealed to him had him inhaling loudly. The reaction was almost immediate with his lips parting.

“If you’re going to stay in here, I could probably use your help getting the dress on,” she explained to him pointing over toward the dress. Standing before him in just her panties was bold. Likely the wrong thing to do, but he was the one that wasn’t leaving and she was on a schedule here. After all the embarrassment she went through over the last day or so? Right now, she didn’t seem to have a care in the world that she was just about naked in front of Negan except for her panties.

“Yeah,” Negan simply said, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip again. Stepping before the mirror in the dressing room, she started to gaze upon the dress. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Negan had taken his jacket off and put it on one of the hangers. Instead of staying where he was, Negan moved toward her. Each step was slow with her straightening up her posture. Going to look back, she stopped when Negan’s arm loosely hooked around her torso. Faintly his hand skimmed in over her lower abdomen having her let out a tremoring breath. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful Y/N.”

She wanted to say something smart. But nothing came out.

The tips of his fingers were rough when they made further contact with the area right below her navel. Now the warmth of him behind her grew closer. Closing her eyes tightly, she knew that she was trembling beneath Negan’s touch with him caressing up over her ribcage and across her abdomen. Forcing her eyes open, she saw Negan’s eyes locked on her reactions in the mirror. There was something in his hazel eyes that showed an awe for her. Negan’s lips were parted, his breathing loud in her ear. Easing his touch up higher, he dragged his palm flat across her abdomen right beneath her breasts.

Dropping his head forward, Negan nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck taking in the scent of her. With a moan, she felt his hand drag back across her chest with the roughness of his palm now caressing over her breasts.

Kissing at her jawline faintly, Negan growled against her flesh with his index finger circling one of her nipples, “You are so beautiful.”

“Negan,” her head dropped back against his shoulder as he dragged his palm across to the other breast to cup it tenderly in his hand. Whimpering, she didn’t know how to respond. Had she never waken up and this was still a dream? It felt all so real, but at the same time? After how long her feelings festered for Negan, this just felt like something her brain would have come up with to help make last night better.

Testing the flesh in his grasp, a growl fell from his lips with him pressing another kiss over her jawline. Pinching at her nipple, he followed it up with circling it teasing at her flesh with his rough fingertips. Quiet cries escaped from her parted lips. In a way, they were both still being quiet since they were in public. Pushing his hand down between the valley of her breasts, Negan lifted his eyes to watch her expressions.

Sliding his hand down the middle of her abdomen toward the top of her panties, Negan pushed his hand beneath the material hearing her whimpering out his name. It drew a fire throughout his body with her left hand reaching around the hook slightly around the back of his neck. Stroking her fingers through his hair, her body trembled when he palmed in over her mound.

Waiting for her to deny him, Negan buried his nose further against the side of her neck. Caressing over her most intimate area, Negan let out a raspy moan with her hips pressing back and her ass rubbing up against him. It was the most gifting thing she could have asked for from him. Only in her dreams had she heard him like this, and those were nothing in comparison.

“Fuck,” he rumbled, kissing at her neck. With her free hand, she reached around her. Flattening her palm out over the front of his pants, she caressed at his body through the material. Bouncing his hips forward into her touch, Negan’s index finger dragged a line over the length of her sex. On trembling legs, she purred and tried not to shake too much.

Working his pants open as best as she could, she dipped her hand beneath the material of Negan’s pants. Their breathing was uneven, with both of them shaking. The roughness from Negan’s short beard tickled at her skin and once she palmed over Negan’s warm flesh, she could feel his fingertips circling her clitoris. With her touch, Negan was rewarding her with tiny moans. The warmth of him felt incredible against her hand with him slightly bucking up toward her touch. Each passing second had Negan’s caress over her body growing harder and she was doing her best to stand steady on her feet.

“Fuck…” Negan’s voice was raspy with her fingers curling around his girthy length, working to jerk him off to the best of her ability in the position that they were in. Panting, Negan licked his lips and his eyes met hers again in the mirror. Dragging his bottom lip across her jawline, Negan hissed out along with her grasp tightening around his body.

“How’s it going in there?” the employee’s voice called out having Y/N pulling her hand from Negan’s pants causing a muted groan to fall from him. Reaching for Negan’s wrist, she stopped his touch with him still cuddling his head in against the side of her neck. “Do you need some help?”

“No, I’m fine,” she declared, fighting like hell to keep it together after the way they had been touching each other. Listening carefully, she made sure that the person was gone. Still locked in on the moment, Negan’s caress started back up. There was something that drew attention to the lust in his eyes. “Negan…fuck, Negan stop.”

Yanking his hand from her panties, she stumbled forward. Bracing her arms against the mirror, she dropped her head forward and tried to get her body to calm down. Licking her lips, she felt an ache inside of her. All of her desperately wanted to continue, but she knew it would lead to nothing good.

“We can’t do this,” she finally blurt out, looking over her shoulder at Negan. Both of their breathing was still uneven. The bulge at the center of Negan’s pants drew her attention and she immediately regretted that she stopped this, but knew it was for the best. “You don’t want this.”

“I just…” Negan lifted his hand to drag it down over the front of his face in a moment of confusion. Falling back into the corner of the room, Negan’s eyes grew wide with him cussing under his breath to himself. Starting to work back together his pants allowed her time to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she lied. It really wasn’t fine, but what could she tell him? Working on the dress, she had some issues, but was surprised that Negan was helping to get the dress over her body. Even though they both had realized what they had done, Negan’s fingers were slow with caressing at her bare shoulders and then over her back. Dragging the zipper up, Negan’s eyes locked with hers. There was a rose color to his cheeks. It looked like he wanted to say something, but nothing was coming out. “Thank you.”

Taking a step back to look at herself in the mirror, she realized that it was tight fitting in some areas, but she assumed those were the areas that Guy wanted her to be focused on.

“What just happened…” Negan began, dragging his thumb out across his bottom lip.

“It was nothing,” she interrupted him, not wanting him to overthink this whole thing. “I had been working you up since last night. It was a moment of heated tension, and it didn’t go anywhere. Don’t worry about it. You were feeling guilty about everything…”

“But I wasn’t,” Negan defended himself, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. A defeated sound followed with her phone going off. Grabbing it, she looked to see that it was Guy asking where she was. “I think we need to talk about us.”

“There is no us in the terms of us needing to talk about it,” she suggested, taking another look at the dress in the mirror. “Do I look okay? Because I have to rush to this meeting.”

Right now, she was breathless. It was going to be hard to think about anything other than this moment while she was in that meeting. Facing Maggie would be hard, but it was undoubtedly a moment she would have to get over. There was a reason they were stopped and they probably should have never done it to begin with.

“You look beautiful,” Negan assured her, reaching for his jacket as she gathered her things. Dropping his hands down at his sides, Negan licked his lips and let out a long exhale. “You wanted me to touch you like that, right?”

“Did you want to touch me like that?” she was quick to respond, pulling her jacket on after shoving her clothes in the bag that she had with her.

“I mean…” Negan lowered his head to look down to the very obvious bulge that was still in his jeans. There was a severe ache from the lack of his release and she was the one that stopped him. Not the other way around. “Obviously.”

“Why now and not four years ago?” she stammered with Negan attempting to think of an answer, but the sound of her phone going off was heard again. Rolling her eyes, she dropped her head back in defeat realizing this would go nowhere. “I have to leave Negan.”

Stepping forward, he huffed with her holding out her hand to keep a distance between the two of them, “I have a feeling that later you are going to regret this. Especially after you have time to think about this. So, I’m just going to leave Negan. I have to go.”

And with that, she was quick to leave the dressing room. Checking to make sure everything was okay with the store, she was eager to get back to the office. That meant she took whatever shoes they gave her, put on the jewelry they handed over and she barely even looked at herself. Moving faster than she would have liked to in the shoes that she had put on. In the snow, it made it hard to walk, but she was doing her best.

By the time she got up the elevator, Guy was sitting on the corner of someone’s desk motioning her to move quickly, “What took you so long?”

“I just wanted to make sure that I looked perfect,” she was out of breath both from what happened with Negan and rushing here.

“Open the jacket,” Guy demanded with her doing as he asked. Giving an approving nod, he waved her forward. “I want you to be relaxed. I want you to do what feels right and where we go from there…we’ll see.”

----

“You’re really quiet tonight,” a voice pulled Negan’s attention from what he was doing. Lifting his head, Negan’s eyes followed Maggie’s movements after she had just gotten out of his bathroom after a shower. She was stroking the towel she had through her hair and Negan shifted on the bed uncomfortably.

For the last hour or so Negan had been going through photos that he had on his phone. Y/N was right. Once he started thinking about the things that happened earlier, he started feeling guilty. He had been with Maggie for four years. Not once had he ever considered cheating on Maggie. After he had a tough relationship with Lucille during some of their hardships, Negan swore he would never cheat on someone again. Yet, he got pretty close to it and he was certain that Maggie would have considered it cheating.

“I’m not quiet,” Negan stammered, trying to keep things normal between them. “Just tired.”

“You’re a big mouth Negan,” Maggie pointed out, looking back over her shoulder at Negan. Tipping his head from side to side, Negan got more comfortable on the bed before looking to his phone again. “What has your head buried in that phone tonight?”

“I was just looking at some photos,” Negan explained letting out a long sigh. Truthfully? He was looking at photos he had taken during the years involving Y/N. “Around this time of the year, I get sentimental. Especially after losing Lucille near the holidays.”

“That’s sweet,” Maggie frowned, setting the towel she had been using to dry her hair off on his dresser. Tensing up, Negan’s hazel eyes focused on that towel. He hated when she did things like that, but she had gotten mad at him so many times in the past for correcting her that he was doing his best to hold it in. Making sure that the towel that was around her body was still hooked together firmly, Maggie lowered down on the bed to sit beside Negan. “So what was the conversation about with Y/N that you were desperate to talk to her?”

“I told you…” Negan exhaled loudly, setting his phone aside when Maggie’s fingers pushed at the bottom of his shirt. Getting it to the center of his chest, Maggie started palming across his lower abdomen eliciting a sigh from him. Sliding in closer, her fingers danced across his flesh until reaching his pajama pants. Pushing her hand beneath the material had Negan’s eyes slamming shut tightly when her fingers made contact with his manhood. “There are some things you need to keep to yourself.”

“I’m not allowed to be curious? My best friend and my boyfriend are deep in conversation and I’m not allowed to know what about?” Maggie bit down on her bottom lip, taking her time to tease at Negan’s flesh.

“You can be curious, but that doesn’t mean that I have to tell you,” Negan looked to the time to make sure that Jordyn would be asleep. It had been a few hours since she had gone to bed, so Negan assumed it would be okay for them to do something like this. Maggie’s grip grew with Negan’s comment causing him to groan out. “Why are you so desperate to know?”

“Well what am I supposed to think when the two of you keep secrets from me?” she wondered, adjusting her wet hair over her shoulder. Each caress over Negan’s body had him growing harder in her grasp which was a good sign for her.

“We’re good friends Maggie,” Negan stressed to her, his breathing growing louder with her caress becoming faster. Between broken breaths, Negan licked at his lips appreciating the touch. “I knew her before I knew you.  And we’re close…”

“Not that close,” Maggie countered, her brow line creasing. There was a silence that filled the air while she considered her next comment. “Maybe before you were dating me the two of you were close. Since then, she’s really only around for Jordyn.”

“And that’s my fault because I should have been a better friend,” Negan insisted, his lower abdomen sinking in with a sharp inhale of a breath. “I should have put equal amounts of time into both you and her.”

“Gee, thanks,” Maggie snorted working her hand harder over Negan’s throbbing erection. Hearing that didn’t make her happy because she liked being the center of Negan’s world beyond his daughter.

“You know what I mean,” Negan rolled his eyes, dropping his head back with a moan. Licking his lips, his eyes slammed shut when Maggie started to tug at the material of his pants to get them down in the front allowing her more room to touch him. “Maggie?”

“Mhmm?” her eyes were focused on what she was doing in pumping her hand over his length.

“What was it about me that you liked?” Negan wondered, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. It was something he had been considering lately. An amused rumble escaped her with her movements slowing down. “What drew you to me?”

“You were hot?” Maggie was blunt, a tiny laugh following. “Have you looked at yourself lately Negan? You were this tall, dark and handsome type. With a killer smile and those dimples. Who wouldn’t be interested in you?”

“That’s it?” Negan winced when her movements stopped all together. It had his hips bouncing up toward her grasp, but she didn’t continue.

“What else would it be?” she inquired, her eyebrow arching in a moment of confusion.

“I didn’t know if there was some ulterior motive,” Negan whined when Maggie pulled her hand away from his aching flesh.

“What kind of motive?” Maggie looked suspicious now that Negan was questioning why she hooked up with him in the first place. “I thought you were hot. So I let you know and we fucked. What more is there to say?”

“I…I don’t know,” Negan let his words linger. There were a lot of thoughts he had been having since the other night. Things he really shouldn’t have been thinking about, but he was. “What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“What’s with the deep conversation all of a sudden?” she laughed, curling her fingers back around his girthy length having his hips arch up toward her touch. “Usually we talk about our day and either fuck or go to sleep. Our relationship has never really been built on much more.”

“That’s all you think our relationship is?” Negan confirmed, sucking in a sharp breath of air and dropping his head back.

“What do you want from this Negan? Do you want me to keep jerking you off? Do you want me to have sex with you? Or…?” Maggie seemed frustrated, her green eyes narrowing. Pulling her hand from Negan’s member had it smacking up against his lower abdomen with him wincing. “You’re not acting like you.”

“How am I supposed to act?” Negan scoffed with his cock aching after getting it harder for the second time today with no release.

“I don’t know Negan, I’m in a towel stroking your dick and you’re looking for some kind of deep conversation from me,” she retorted, standing up from the bed and snatching the towel that she had left on the dresser. “Maybe you should be taking the towel off of me and fucking me.”

“So sex is the primary thing you want from me?” Negan doubled down on his question which had her laughing at him.

Tossing the towel in the hamper, she threw her hands up and nodded, “I mean having sex is what we do best. Right?”

“Is it?” Negan had a bit of attitude in the way he was responding to her. “If we’re going to be a couple for the rest of our lives, don’t you think we should have some kind of something fucking deeper between us? Where we can actually talk about the things that are on our mind.”

“Baby,” Maggie began, crawling onto the bed. Moving in over him, she lowered down to start pressing kisses at his lower abdomen. Then down over to his hip where the v-line was. “You’re not a deep person. You cuss. You joke. And we fuck. The only deep you like is being balls deep. Fucking is what you’re good at. Being someone who wants to connect on an emotional level is not you. We got together because you wanted to fuck me. Not because you wanted to connect on an emotional level. If that’s what you wanted, you would have hooked up with Y/N. Not me.”

“Hey,” Negan stopped her, his head tipping to the side. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Come on Negan,” she half laughed, hovering her mouth over Negan’s length. Her green eyes were locked on his, an amused expression over her features. “You had to know that Y/N was head over heels in love with you. You had four years of an opportunity to make your move on her. You didn’t want her, you wanted me. She was the one you could make an emotional connection with. I was the one that you could fuck senseless. You picked me.”

Hearing Maggie say that aloud had Negan pulling up into a seated position with his back leaning against the headboard, “Oh come on. Don’t pretend like you didn’t know. You think some girl is just going to start being mommy to your child because she’s good and kindhearted? You knew she was in love with you. And you made it very clear that you didn’t care.”

“I didn’t know how she felt about me back then,” Negan denied that he was the way that Maggie was insisting that he was. “The first two years I was married and then the next two…”

“What is this going to do?” she got on her knees, irritation flooding her veins. “You’re not about to convince me. She’s not here, so her feelings aren’t going to be hurt. I know for a fact that she was head over heels in love with you. I was her best friend after all. I heard it all the time how in love with you she was. How you were the most perfect man. How she connected with you better than anyone. How the two of you would talk for hours and hours. You weren’t looking for an emotional bond. You were looking for a sexual one. Because I know she let you know how desperate she was for you to like her. Considering every outfit. Doing everything just to impress you. The girl even considered going into film just because of you.”

“You knew how she felt and you started dating me?” Negan breathed out, a sudden surge of guilt flooding through is veins. Now he was understanding why Y/N was talking about things the way she was over the last few days. These were real feelings that even Maggie seemed to be confirming for him right now.

Rolling her eyes, Maggie started kissing up over Negan’s abdomen toward the center of his chest, “You knew how she felt and you started dating me. It’s pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it? You took advantage of her kindness because you weren’t attracted to her. I took advantage of you because you were hot and she was doing nothing to make her move on you. Or maybe she was and you just didn’t want to. Either way, we’re bad people Negan.”

Lifting his hips up, Negan started to pull his pants back over his body. Moving out from underneath Maggie had her releasing an annoyed rumble, “Please don’t act like you’re above this. You’re a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

“You sound proud of it,” Negan stressed to her and she threw her hand up in the air. “Hurting your best friend makes you happy?”

“She had her time to make her move on you. I saw you and I knew that I had to have you because you were hot. She had four years. Nothing. I had two weeks and I had you immediately,” Maggie reminded Negan getting to her knees on the bed before him. Tugging at the towel that she was wearing, she allowed it to drop down onto the bed. “You didn’t want a deep, emotional relationship with someone you bonded with. You wanted someone that you could fuck that made you feel good.”

Leaning back against the dresser, Negan huffed loudly while considering what she was saying, “Why don’t you just grab a condom and fuck me. Get this aggression out. I know you like to play the good guy with things, but we both know you’re a shitty person Negan. So just be you and stop pretending to be this person that we both know you’re not.”

Waiting, Maggie wiggled her finger at Negan with a wicked smirk tugging at her pretty features. Turning, she lowered down onto her hands and knees. Pressing her hands against the bed, she put her face down and her ass up to tease him.

“So do what you do best Negan. Shut up and fuck me,” she demanded hearing Negan’s breathing growing louder. With a wince, Maggie heard Negan move forward swiftly and he grabbed her hips firmly. Purring out, she felt Negan’s hand placing at the back of her neck to get her to press her face further into the bed. “That’s it…”

“No,” Negan growled releasing her and moving away from the bed. Groaning out, she sat up in the bed and pulled her towel back on when she stood from the bed. “I’m more than just a fuck. And I refuse to believe I’m some kind of prick that used a girl to take care of my daughter…”

“What did you do then Negan?” she watched him drop onto the chair at the corner of the room beside the light that was there. Digging into his pants that he had taken off earlier, Negan pulled out a cigarette and she huffed. “You made a girl fall in love with you and then you fucked her best friend. At least own up to it. Realize that’s who you are and you can’t change it. Being a single parent at the time was too hard for you, so you found the first sucker you could get. And with how much she loved you? It was easy.”

“You weren’t around, you don’t know,” Negan growled putting his cigarette between his lips. Cussing out, Negan couldn’t get the lighter to light his cigarette. Stealing it from him, Maggie managed to get his cigarette lit. With a glare, Negan inhaled sharply and winced when he pulled the cigarette away with a big exhale of smoke. “I could barely get out of bed. I was ready to fucking die. And she saved my life. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be here anymore. My daughter wouldn’t have either one of her parents.”

“Okay, so now that you know she was in love with you. What are you going to do? Leave me for her?” Maggie pushed, wondering if her comment was going to backfire on her. There seemed to be a lot of emotions that Negan was feeling right now and it wasn’t how she thought he would be responding to things. “After four years are you just going to dump me to be with her?”

“Obviously not,” Negan winced with Maggie crawling in over him. Dropping his head back, Negan didn’t fight Maggie when she started working his cock through the opening of his pajama pants. Closing his eyes, Negan groaned when Maggie lowered down in over him taking him into her. Hooking her fingers into his dark hair, Maggie forced him to look at her and he pulled his cigarette from his lips. “I wouldn’t throw away a four-year relationship over…”

“Nothing?” Maggie finished for him causing him to grunt. Taking her time to roll her hips in over Negan, she heard his breathing uneven and he still looked mad. “Now that we’re on that point, I do think that she may be too involved in our lives.”

Burying her head against the side of Negan’s neck, Maggie moaned out against his flesh, “She acts like she is Jordyn’s mother…and she’s not.”

Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan felt Maggie tugging at the hair at the back of his head while her movements grew stronger over him, “It’s time you let her get her hopes up and know that she’s not welcome in this family. She’s just our friend. Nothing more.”

“Stop,” Negan demanded, sucking in a sharp breath of air. Groaning out, Maggie started to firmly bounce her hips back against him having Negan tossing his cigarette in the ashtray. Grasping at her hips, Negan growled with her forcing his arms back against the chair. “I said stop, damn it.”

“You don’t want me to stop,” she asserted, her moans vibrating against Negan’s ear. Bouncing her hips back against his length had his winces flooding the area surrounding them. “You’re mine Negan. You know that.”

Nipping at Negan’s earlobe, Maggie forced his wrists further back against the chair with Negan’s breaths growing louder, “It’s my pussy you wanted to fuck. And it’s been that way for four years.”

Hooking her fingers around Negan’s wrists with her right hand, she lowered her left and grabbed a firm hold of Negan’s jaw. Forcing him to look at her, Maggie pressed her forehead to his with the wet sounds their bodies made filling the air, “You’re mine. And she’s just going to have to deal with it.”

“Fuck…” Negan winced, his heart hammering in his chest with the way she was moving over him. Even if he was fighting it, it was hard. After being denied an orgasm twice today, his body was desperate to have one. But mentally? He didn’t want this. Not after she just accused him of being a massive piece of shit that purposely hurt someone he cared about. “Get off me.”

“Let it happen Negan,” she purred against the side of his neck, riding him harder. By the sounds of his moans, she knew that he was close so she was working extra hard to get what she wanted.

With a roar, Negan managed to get his hands unhooked from her grasp. Forcing her hips from him just in time, the first line of Negan’s cum spread out across his lower abdomen. Groaning out, Negan dropped his head back with his breathing uneven as his cock twitched through the rest of his release.

“Being greedy tonight, fine,” Maggie got up from the chair and reached for her towel to put it back on. Tossing Negan the tissues had him hissing out.

“She’s the closest thing to a mother my daughter has,” Negan finally responded to what Maggie had said earlier, working to clean himself up. “I’m not going to take that away from Jordyn. One thing has been constant in her life other than me and that’s Y/N. She may not be Jordyn’s biological mother, but I will never separate the two of them.”

“Whatever then,” Maggie knew it was no use to keep bothering with the situation since Negan seemed to be so sensitive over it. “But you’re just dragging her along. I’m sure she’s really happy being the mother to your child without you going balls deep and pumping her full of your cum.”

“Mature Maggie,” Negan threw the tissues in the garbage, working himself back into his pants.

“Like you’re mature at all,” she countered as she got dressed in something to wear. Huffing out, she pressed back her hair and realized that Negan was having a hard time even looking at her. “You could have at least let me make myself come. It’s not really all that fair to let you orgasm, but I don’t get one.”

“Oh, so now you want to have unprotected sex with me?” Negan countered with an angered expression. “You were the one always so insistent that you didn’t want me to come in you because you didn’t want to get pregnant. You don’t want my babies Maggie. You said that yourself.”

“I’m on the pill Negan,” she reminded him getting a huff in response. “I’m just not ready for children yet. I want them, but I’d like to be more comfortable in my career by the time that we have them. And being married to you might be a thing to think about if you want children.”

“Oh, so now you’re comfortable with being married to me?” Negan responded, standing up from the chair that he was seated in. Resting his hands at his hips, Negan was visibly starting to get angrier. “Two years ago when I asked you to marry me, you told me no. You don’t even want to fucking move in with me.”

“I wasn’t ready then,” she stressed to him with Negan rolling his eyes and moving back to the bed to drop down onto it. “Now I might be.”

“You weren’t when I asked the first time, but now you might be,” Negan snickered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “I think you should help Y/N get further ahead in your company. Being your personal assistant isn’t really a job that was made for her.”

“Wow, that was a quick change of subject. Talking about our relationship to going back to Y/N,” Maggie frowned, dropping down on the bed beside Negan. Yanking the blankets out beneath him had him huffing angrily. “I would never do that because she sucks at her job. She’s lucky that I gave her a job in the first place. Guy wouldn’t even see her originally.”

“She sucks at her job?” Negan repeated what Maggie had said, the muscles in his throat flexing with her blurting that out. “Something tells me that’s not true because I was there when Guy demanded her be in the meeting today. If someone was bad at their job, I don’t think they would be being asked to be part of that meeting.”

“Oh, he only wants to fuck her,” Maggie rolled her eyes, turning away from Negan and getting comfortable in the bed. That was the second time he heard that today. Y/N had thought the same thing earlier.

“Does that mean she did a bad job during the meeting today?” Negan inquired, waving his hand about in the air in attempts to get Maggie to tell him about things. Earlier he had texted Y/N, but she had never gotten back to him. And that did upset him. Especially after everything that happened between them.

“She’s your good friend. Why don’t you go call her and find out yourself?” Maggie snorted cuddling her head further into the pillow. Hearing the way Maggie was talking, Negan was starting to understand why Y/N was having the feelings that she was toward Maggie.

“She asked me to help her get a job in the film industry you know,” Negan blurt out having Maggie push up onto her hands to look over at Negan. There seemed to be a sense of panic flooding her features with Negan admitting that to her. “Told me that she was unhappy working for you.”

“And what did you tell her?” Maggie looked like she was going to get sick with Negan letting her in on the information that he likely should have kept to himself.

“I told her that I didn’t have contacts like I did before,” Negan explained with Maggie rolling her eyes and letting out a laugh.

“Well that’s bullshit,” she almost found amusement in Negan lying to Y/N about that. “They are constantly begging you to come back and work with them,” Maggie reminded Negan, pulling herself up into a seated position. “See, you don’t think she would be a good enough employee either.”

“I panicked. Especially after how much you bitch about her,” Negan was honest with Maggie throwing his hands up in the air. For years she would come home and complain to him about Y/N and how awful she was. For a while his mind actually started to believe it in terms of her career. “I told her that in order to make that happen, I would have to put myself on the line and…”

“Good boy,” Maggie outstretched her hand to pat Negan on the chest eliciting a defeated breath from him. “She’s where she belongs Negan. Don’t feel bad. You made the right decision. As soon as Guy fucks her, he’s not going to be interested anymore. And she’ll fall back into place.”

“You told me that she was a bad worker. You’ve been saying that for years,” Negan recalled all the things that Maggie had been telling him since they were together. “I know her better than that, but I just allowed myself to believe you because…”

“Oh shut up Negan,” she rolled her eyes lowering down onto the bed again to get comfortable. “You made your decision. If you didn’t believe me and you thought that she would be good you would have gotten her the job. Instead you told her no. Which good for you for standing up for yourself. It’s what she deserves. To be put in her place. Her egos way too big.”

“So Guy really does want to have sex with her?” Negan brought up what Maggie had said with Maggie snorting under her breath. “Y/N said the same thing. Said that today wasn’t something to be excited about because she just thought Guy wanted to have sex with her.”

“And he will,” Maggie slurred, dropping her head down further into the pillow. “Guy gets what he wants and if she wants to keep working at Vixen, she will do whatever he wants. And she’ll probably enjoy it. He’s a hot guy. It’ll be the biggest thing to happen to her. So…”

Huffing out, Negan dropped his head back again and looked up at the ceiling. Today had been a rough day and he had a headache. There were so many feelings and emotions he was going through and he didn’t even know where to begin in dealing with them.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976​ @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan

@smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan

@redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted

@akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03

@sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf

@promiscuousbarnes @lanadelnegan @peachihellcat @dilfsandmartinis

[mrskomireid]

Christmas Lights & Nutmeg Cookies

summary: christmas fluff ♡

warnings: none

a/n: anyone who knows me also knows that i pretty much only write angst, so i decided to try my hand at something lighter 😽

word count: 866

------------

The soft glow of the Christmas lights Spencer had been struggling to untangle days before bathed your apartment in a warm, golden light. The scent of the gingerbread you’d baked hours before still lingered in the air before you both moved on to the next task, sugar cookies. While simplistic enough that they weren’t really a challenge, Spencer was going all in for his first year hosting the BAU Christmas get-together.

He offered you a bite of his latest batch, after determining the last 3 weren’t quite right. “Did I do good?” He asked as the sweetness melted on your tongue.

“That’s perfect, keep that recipe.” You responded.

“It’s the nutmeg,” He declared proudly, “For a batch of 36 I used half a teaspoon, it's subtle but it makes all the difference.”

“You know, I wasn’t so sure that Christmas cookies were something that could be scientifically perfected but of course, it's you that managed to prove me wrong.” A slight laugh escaped you at the idea that he’d spent hours treating a sugar cookie recipe like it was String Theory.

He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t worry, I’ll credit you on my genius recipe too.” He moved over to the dining table, sitting cross-legged on the chair, tucking his long legs beneath him, “Now let’s hope I don't mess the batch up with bad icing skills.”

You sigh a little at the mess left by Spencer’s repeated attempts at baking, knowing that he won’t clean it himself. He’s perfect, really, but his one downfall is the mess he unconsciously leaves in his wake. You get to work scrubbing bowls and mixer whisks as he meticulously pipes icing onto a reindeer-shaped cookie.

“I think I cracked the code,” He said, his brows furrowed in concentration. “The key is steady pressure, not too much at once. That way the antlers don’t look… asymmetrical.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you spotted the shabby icing job he’d done on a few other cookies, you walked over to him, drying your hands with the handtowel. “Took you a few tries but it looks like you’ve got the hang of it now.” You look at the one he’s finishing, “Spence, that reindeer looks amazing. You might’ve missed your calling as a pastry chef.”

He gave you a sheepish smile, his cheeks flushing slightly, “I think the team would tease me relentlessly if I moonlighted at a bakery. But, you know, this is actually therapeutic…especially when you have a partner cleaning up after you.”

“I told you it’s calming!” You teased, nudging his shoulder lightly. “And you said baking wasn’t your thing.”

He reached for another cookie, this one shaped like a star, and began decorating it with such diligent precision that was so very Spencer. You sit in the chair next to him, content to watch him work for a moment. There was something so endearing about seeing him in this setting, this domesticity was a huge contrast to the rest of his life.

“Alright,” You said, standing up and holding your hand out to him, “baking break. Time for a movie.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, though he tried to feign nonchalance. “Do you already have one picked out?”

“I’ve never watched it before but it's a classic…” You say, grinning, knowing how he loves anything that’s referred to as a classic. The opening notes of It’s a Wonderful Life filled the room, and Spencer's expression softened.

“Fantastic choice,” He muttered, setting his finished cookie and the piping bag aside.

You both nestle into the couch, and you place a fluffy blanket over the two of you. Spencer shifted his weight slightly and gently grabbed your hand under the blanket. His warmth was comforting and couldn’t resist the urge to rest your head on his shoulder, he reacted in turn and rested his head on top of yours. His sweater smelled faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, the result of the baking spree he’d just indulged in.

As the movie played, his fingers absentmindedly traced circles on the back of your hand. You found yourself focusing on him and his presence more than the screen, admiring the way the glittering lights on the Christmas tree reflected in his hazel eyes. When George Bailey’s troubles began to develop, Spencer leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Did you know Jimmy Stewart was nervous during the filming of this scene? It was one of his first roles after returning from World War II.”

You smiled, finding it adorable how his mind was always finding facts and stories to tell you, “I didn’t know that, thanks for the tidbit, Dr. Reid.” He chuckled slightly, his breath warm against your cheek.

As the movie neared its ending, you found yourself unable to concentrate on anything but the feeling of being wrapped up with Spencer, the soft rumble in his chest as he laughed, and how it warmed the room. You both hear a soft patter against the window and turn to look out of it, seeing snow falling, blanketing the world outside in a crisp white sheet. And inside, everything felt alive with Christmas magic- laughter, love, and sugar cookies.

[you-shiny-thing]

I wanted to draw Oberon and asked for ideas, and a salt lick was among those ideas. Thus, the saga

The tragedy of a deer being unable to lick the salt cube, for he lacks a tongue :( He can only witness it, and watch as his comrades enjoy it.

The sorrow, the despair the forbidden fruit salt can inflict on one frame

And finally, due to popular demand, he has been given a maw with which to lick. And all is well in the woods again.

[mrsbarnesblog]

Tattoo

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader

Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.

Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘

“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 

“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 

You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 

“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 

But you were so wrong. 

As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 

“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.

"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 

Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 

Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 

Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 

He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 

He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 

“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 

And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 

You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.

You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 

“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 

“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 

Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.

You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 

To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 

“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 

“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 

“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”

Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.

“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.

“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”

“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 

"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 

Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 

“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 

“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 

“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 

The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 

You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 

“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 

“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 

“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”

“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 

“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.

“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 

“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 

Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 

You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 

“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.

“No!”

“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 

“I can do it myself!” 

You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 

Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 

“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.

Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 

He was good at it. 

No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 

“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.

You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 

God, he must be big. 

Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 

“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.

“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.

"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 

Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 

Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 

“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 

“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 

“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"

Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 

“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 

“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”

“Loosers.” 

“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”

“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.

“Okay.”

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.

With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 

Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 

Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 

"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 

You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 

The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 

You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 

You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 

“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 

"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 

“I do.” 

Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 

Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 

Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 

Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 

“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 

With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 

“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  

“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 

“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 

“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 

When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 

He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 

Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 

“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.

“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 

“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”

“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 

“Good fucking girl.” 

Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 

You both felt how close you were. 

Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.

“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 

“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.

Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…

“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 

“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 

“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 

“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you. 

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

-----------------------------

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile. 

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that. 

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

------------------------------

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely. 

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now. 

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns." 

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now. 

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day. 

-----------------------------

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

--------------------------------

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[theemporium]

[4.9k] things start to feel real as luke’s rookie season in the nhl officially begins. but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought. and maybe those good vibes will follow him off the ice too. (smut)

series masterlist

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“You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.”

Your smile widened as you pulled the door open further, letting the boy shuffle inside with a small wince at the bright sun shining through your windows. The hood of his jumper was thrown over his head, his curls a mess and his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he stole from Jack’s room after he woke up. 

It wasn’t the best state for you to see him but, truthfully, that was not his biggest concern at the moment. 

A few months away from college and he almost forgot what a bad influence his friends could be when it came to drinking. There was a vague memory somewhere around the fifth round of shots where Luke was pretty sure Nico tried to get them to drink some water, but it was pointless when Ethan found another bottle of tequila and insisted they had to drink it before it went to waste.

And, to Luke’s drunken mind, that sounded like the most logical solution. 

He was honestly surprised the three of them had managed to wake up early enough to catch the plane back to Michigan. They had woken him up to say goodbye, muttering something about afternoon practice and other things that Luke vaguely remembered before he fell back asleep for a few hours. 

Luke was pretty sure he was still drunk when he woke up a second time to the sound of Jack blasting music in the kitchen. 

Somewhere between his annoying brother and the lingering anxiety that followed with the hangover as result of the night before, Luke found himself at a local bakery to grab some goods before he stopped over at your place, not even thinking to message you beforehand (if he even knew where his phone was). 

“But you don’t smell shit so that’s a plus,” you noted as you shut the door behind him before taking pity on his state, dragging the curtains shut again whilst Luke muttered his thanks under his breath.

“I think I bought half the bakery,” Luke admitted with a sheepish expression as he extended the bag towards you. “I asked for every cherry based thing they owned, which surprisingly isn’t much.” He paused for a moment. “Maybe I should have tried another bakery.”

You laughed, brows raised in question. “I’m surprised you can stomach anything right now.”

“Oh, I can’t,” Luke said, his nose scrunching up in disgust like the idea made him feel nauseous. It did, if he was being honest. It was bad enough he almost threw up after Jack made him chug some water. “These were…well, they were the start of an apology.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“For…abandoning you in my room after everything,” he continued, his cheeks heating up. Because apparently no matter how much he drank the night before, he remembered well enough that he was a bit of a dick with how he ran off with his friends. “It was a shitty move. And it was shitty for me to make you hide under the bed.”

“That did throw me off,” you admitted, though there was a slight teasing tilt to your voice. “Although, your bed was surprisingly clean under there. No plates growing mould or other questionable diseases.”

Luke scoffed a little. “I’m not a slob.”

You shot him a look.

“I’m not that much of a slob,” Luke corrected, grumbling under his breath before he let out a sigh. “You know, you are making this apology a lot harder than I imagined it being.”

“Probably doesn’t help that you’re hungover as fuck,” you teased, but you took the baked good from him. You peaked inside, noting just how much he had actually bought and something warm twisted in your stomach. “You really didn’t have to. It wasn’t that big of a deal, Luke.”

“But it was to me,” he murmured, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I…I shouldn’t have done that. Like, don’t get me wrong, I love my friends. And I know they wouldn’t judge me but…”

“Hey,” you stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch him. “It’s fine, I promise. This was a part you hid from them for so long and it freaked you out. I get it.”

“I’m not embarrassed by you,” he blurted out, because apparently he has no filter or control over the words leaving his mouth. “Just in case you thought that. Because I’m not. The boys would probably love you but like—”

“You just don’t want them asking questions,” you finished for him, watching as the boy shyly nodded his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself but thank you, anyways. And thank you for the pastries.” 

“Right,” he cleared his throat, nodding a little. “Well, I–”

“Go lay down,” you said, a smile growing on your face when his shoulders slumped in relief. “I wasn’t lying when I said you looked like shit. The fact you are even awake before noon is shocking, to be honest.”

“Thank you,” he sighed in relief as he made his way towards your couch, his feet shuffling against the floor. “If I had to go back and listen to Jack blast his obnoxious playlists, I would have died.”

You snorted. “Aw, baby is facing his first, proper hangover outside of cheap college vodka.”

He pulled his sunglasses off to glare at you. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Lie down,” you prompted as you gently pushed him a step forward. “We can nap on the couch. I’ll even show you the trick to hangovers.”

He raised his brows. “It’s not gonna be some weird shit like drinking raw egg yolks, is it?” 

“I was going to offer head scratches but if you want raw eggs—”

“No!”

You grinned. “That’s what I thought.” 

…

The thing about playing with the team during playoffs was that, as amazing as it was, they did get knocked out and the whole thing felt fairly short-lived.

Don’t get him wrong, it was still a surreal experience. Hockey had been a constant in his life, something that always felt familiar and welcoming no matter where he was. It had felt as recognisable and comforting to him as his family was. 

But to know he had made it? To know he was skating and playing and wearing the jersey of an NHL team? 

It brought a new thrill to hockey he had never expected, but basked in, nonetheless. It added an extra layer, an extra kick that college hockey could never compete with. It made him feel like everything was worth it, that everything worked out and his dreams aligned with the stars and—fuck, he was making his debut in the National Hockey League. 

But as fast as it came, it went. 

And then summer happened. 

And he was distracted by long nights in Michigan summer heat and cool beers and boat rides that made him feel like nothing else existed beyond the lakehouse. It felt like he was just a normal guy, spending the summer break with his brothers and his friends and pretending like life was always this easy. 

It was his last thread to normalcy before his life fully changed. 

And then he was moving to Jersey, his belongings packed into boxes and cases as he moved in with Jack for the first time since his brother was drafted. He spent days being paraded around his new city, trying to feel familiar in the unfamiliar apartment, trying to bond with a team that had been together long before his arrival. 

It was confusing and exciting and baffling and scary. Every emotion a person could experience, Luke had felt tenfold since he had started preseason training. He felt like he was stumbling through a life that wasn’t his, trying to catch up and get a hold of himself. 

Then, in a blink of an eye, he was about to step out for his first official game of his rookie year in the NHL. 

And, for some stupid reason, he was far more nervous than he had been for the playoff games. 

There wasn’t a pressure on him during the playoffs, not really. People were letting mistakes slide, willing to look over things because it was his first time stepping foot onto the ice for an NHL team. He knew he technically had that luxury now too, that he was a rookie and he was allowed to use this year to find his footing.

But it was hard to remember he was a rookie when everyone and everything kept reminding him he was the third Hughes brother. He wasn’t just a normal rookie or young kid starting out their career in the big leagues. He was the third brother to try and live up to an insane standard his brothers have set, he had to prove he wasn’t a bust who only got here because of his name. 

Luke felt more than ever that he had to prove he belonged, that he deserved to have his spot and his place in the team. That he was more than just his surname and the connotations it brought.

He had to prove—

cherry🍒: break a leg or whatever they say in hockey

cherry🍒: actually wait

cherry🍒: don’t break a leg, that would be pretty shit for you

cherry🍒: feel like it would be pretty useful to skate with two unbroken legs

cherry🍒: what i am trying to say is good luck! 

And, in a silly way, he knew it was stupid. He shouldn’t need to hear someone else say something, to try and reassure him. Jack had tried a few times to prompt the conversation as game day approached. A few of the other guys had tried too. Hell, even Quinn had called him to try and give him a pep talk.

But, in the nicest way he could put it, it felt meaningless when it came from people he felt like needed to say it. 

They needed to believe in him. 

You didn’t. 

Fuck, you didn’t even know a single thing about the sport. You didn’t understand the significance of his last name in the sport. You didn’t understand just how intense the next year of his life was about to be. You didn’t understand a single thing that the other people in his life had been trying to reassure him over. 

And, for some reason that was beyond Luke’s own understanding, that was what he needed.

He needed that unwavering, unbreakable faith from someone who didn’t have to support him. You weren’t his family. You weren’t his teammate. You weren’t a fan. You had no reason to lie to him, to sugarcoat your words and fluff away his worries. You had no reason to believe in him other than the fact you just did. 

And it was what he needed.

It was what he needed minutes before the game was due to start, the clock ticking to puck drop and his eyes lingering on your messages before he had to get up and head out to the ice.

He needed you. 

…

They won the first game of the season. 

And then, because the person in the league who was organising the game schedule decided they wanted to try and test them this early on, they played their second game the next night. 

And they won that one too.

It was surreal, to be fucking frank. It was a kind of buzz that Luke had never experienced before, not in hockey at least. 

Winning was always great, regardless of what age or what league you were playing in. Truthfully, he didn’t think anything would beat the thrill college hockey gave him. His attachment to the boys on his team, the adrenaline of the win pumping through him as he basked in the cheering crowd. 

He thought that was his peak. He thought that was the best it would ever get. 

And then he joined the NHL. 

There was something about wearing the jersey, about knowing that they had thousands of fans watching the game. There was something about skating straight towards his big brother and feeling Jack scream in his ear as they were crowded by the other boys. There was something about knowing this had been his dream since he was a kid, to know he was now living it out. 

It was the perfect way to kick off their season—to kick off his rookie season—and Luke genuinely didn’t think he could sit down for longer than two seconds if someone asked him to. His body was bone-tired, he needed decent rest because professional hockey was no joke and his body was still not used to the jump from college hockey.

But he was buzzing. He was practically vibrating with how excited he was. He felt like he could do anything at that moment.

The locker room was buzzing with talks about how to celebrate. Most of them were tired—happy but fucking tired. The younger group wanted to head out to a bar, the older ones wanted to try to be responsible for the sake of practice in the morning. Nico was somewhere in the middle, trying to be diplomatic and find a solution that worked for everyone.

But honestly, Luke didn’t want to stand in a bar where he would either have to sneak drinks or stay sober. And he didn’t particularly want to get drunk in the first place. And he didn’t want to just head home with Jack when his body felt like it could start bouncing off the walls. 

He had this ever present, insistent buzz itching beneath his skin and he had a million and one ideas on how to scratch it. 

Truthfully, everything was a blur. He didn’t remember the post-game interviews or whatever chirps were being thrown his way in the locker room. He didn’t remember what fuck-ass excuse he gave Jack as he clambered into the backseat of an Uber. He didn’t even remember ordering the Uber in the first place. 

He just knew it led him to your doorstep, knocking on your door somewhere past eleven when he hadn’t even stopped to think if you’d be awake or not. He just knew he wanted to see you. 

It was almost a shock when the door swung open a couple of seconds after he knocked. 

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your team, winner?” You teased, leaning against the door as you spoke. Though, you didn’t look all that bothered with Luke showing up this late to your place unannounced. 

But his brain was still moving a million miles an hour and he knew—somewhere amongst the chaos of his thoughts—that he should have said hello, or apologised for randomly showing up, or for banging on your door when you could have been asleep.

But the only thing he managed to blurt out was, “I want to make you come.” 

You blinked. And again. And then one more time. 

And he thought his racing heart was going to explode in his chest before you pulled the door open wider, an invitation for him to step inside as you muttered something about your nosy neighbours overhearing the whole conversation and eavesdropping. 

Luke stood aimlessly in your entrance hallway, watching as you spun to quickly close the door behind him before turning on your heel to face him. You leaned back against the door, making his chest tighten in some kind of way at the way you smiled at him.

“Feeling confident after your big win, huh?” You grinned, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands, and he couldn’t help but find the act oddly endearing. “Does this mean you’re, like, first place or something?”

Luke didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on his face. “Yeah, we basically won the whole thing. Everyone has just forfeited from the championship.” 

“You know, you joke but if it wasn’t for the fact I can see you trying not to laugh at me, I would have believed you,” you said to him before pushing off the door, taking a few steps closer to him. “You never answered my question though. Did the win make you feel more confident?” 

“Maybe,” he swallowed, his fingers itching to just reach out for you the second you were at arm’s length from him. “It’s just…you always do stuff for me. I wanna do stuff for you too. But like, it’s okay if you don’t want—”

“Don’t do that,” you interrupted.

He frowned a little.

“Don’t second guess your own confidence,” you corrected yourself as you stopped just a step or two away from him. “Be sure of yourself. It’s hot.”

“Mhm,” Luke nodded, though it didn’t sound all that self-assured. 

“Remember, just like hockey. You practice and then you play. We’ve been doing the exact same.” And weirdly enough, your words were comforting. “Have some faith in yourself, Luke.” 

“Right. Just like hockey,” he murmured, glancing at the small distance between the two of you.

“Just like hockey,” you repeated with a small nod.

And, just like hockey, Luke let himself act before he over thought his actions too much. Hockey was about acting fast and thinking later. It was about acting on your instincts and trusting your teammate would be on the other side of the puck. It was about letting every move, every hit, every shot to be nothing but one hundred percent. It was about taking the chance before it was gone.

Luke took a step forward, closing the distance between you two as his hands reached to cup your face before he kissed you. You let out a noise of surprise that sounded from the back of your throat before you sunk into it, letting your hands rest against his stomach as he took control.

It was intoxicating, in a way you had never experienced with Luke before. Most of the time, he was happy to let you take control. He got this cute but hopeless look on his face when he didn’t know where to put his hands. He was happy to just sit back and let you tell him exactly just how you wanted to be touched, kissed, held. 

But this was different. It was overwhelming. It was suffocating in the best way possible. Feeling his body tower over you, feeling his large palms holding you just where he wanted you as his tongue slid into your mouth. Feeling the way Luke acted when he didn’t think, when he didn’t get in his own head, when he just let his body act the way it wanted to. 

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before his hands dropped from your face, fingers wrapping around your thighs with a stuttered ‘jump’ whispered against your lips before he lifted you with the ease only a professional athlete could achieve.

He barely pulled away as he walked deeper into your apartment, the layout practically memorised in his head considering the fact he spent just as much time here as he did in his own apartment. His arms were locked on you, not letting you slip a bit as he wandered into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed with a gentleness that made your stomach dip. 

“Show off,” you murmured as you glanced up at him, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt.

He lazily grinned down at you. “I can be impressive sometimes.” 

“Yeah?” Your lips twitched upwards as you shuffled back until you were sat further up the bed. You reached for the hem of your hoodie, pulling it over your head and tossing the clothing off to the side. “Come show me how impressive you can be, Hughes.” 

He swallowed, eyes darting over your figure before he slowly began making his way onto the bed. “You’re sure?” 

“You were the one who came knocking on my door, saying you wanted to make me come,” you teased. 

“Yeah but,” Luke paused for a second as his gaze caught yours. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it because I want to.” He flashed you an awkward but sweet smile. “Consent is sexy, you know?” 

You snorted, but you grinned back at him. “You have my consent to make me come, Luke.”

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I just…I want you to enjoy it but I don’t…”

“Breathe,” you murmured in a softer voice, reaching up to gently squeeze his cheeks to catch his attention. “I’m still here, you’re not doing this alone. Just like hockey, remember? Think of me as your teammate.”

His face instantly scrunched up. “I really don’t want to be thinking about any of my teammates right now.”

You snorted, despite yourself. 

“Yeah, okay, maybe not my finest choice of words. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not doing this alone. Sex is a ‘two way street’, ‘it takes two to tango’ kinda thing, Luke,” you spoke as you reached down to guide his hands to the waistband of your leggings. “We’re doing this together.” 

“Together,” he murmured with a nod.

“Just like hockey,” you said to him again, seeing a hint of his earlier confidence shine in his eyes as his fingers hooked the waistband of your leggings before pulling them down your legs. 

He tugged them over your feet before throwing them off to the side, where your hoodie still laid. He didn’t even hesitate before he ripped his own shirt off over his head, in some weird mixed statement so you weren’t the only one who was half-naked—and because he felt his whole body running far warmer than he thought was normal. 

“Foreplay is important. It’s like warm-ups, it’s necessary and preferred and makes the game easier, as well as more enjoyable,” you said, your voice a little lower than before as you gently guided one of his hands from your waist downwards. “It makes her feel good. It makes you feel good. It’s sexy.” 

“Sexy,” he noted with a nod, though his eyes were transfixed on you. 

Luke gulped a little as his fingers rested along the elastic waistband of your panties. His heart was racing in his chest and blood was roaring in his ears and it was a little hard to focus on the words you were saying when his dick was twitching in his sweatpants.

“Just gotta know where to touch her,” you whispered, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers lightly skimmed over your clothed cunt. You choked out a gasp as you pressed a slow, deliberate circle over your clit. 

He didn’t think even a meteor crashing into your bedroom could make him tear his eyes away from you right now.

“Try.”

Luke’s brows raised a little as you stared at him expectantly. 

“C’mon, winner,” your lips twitched upwards. “Just like hockey.”

Just like hockey.

Luke slowly ran his hand over your waist, feeling the cotton fabric of your panties under his touch. He kept his eyes locked on your cunt, trying to ignore the way his hand was shaking as he ran his fingers along the fabric. 

A soft sigh left your lips and his eyes snapped up to look at your face, to watch your expressions closely to see what you reacted to. His thumb pressed down experimentally and your nose twitched a little.

“A little higher.”

He listened. 

“Firm but gentle.”

He listened.

“Fuck, just like that, Luke.” 

He listened.

“A little faster.” 

Luke listened. 

He listened as you guided him. He listened until there was a small wet spot on the front of your panties. He listened until you were panting and telling him to pull them down your legs. He listened as he gently glided his fingers between your folds, watching with dark eyes as his fingers glinted with your release. 

“I get it,” he muttered out at some point, his thumb pressing down on your swollen clit as your hips bucked up against his touch. “The noises. Why you like them.” He gulped a little as his eyes glanced up at you. “You sound pretty when you’re moaning, Cherry.”

“Shit,” your eyes fluttered shut as you reached down to grip his wrist. “Just…fuck, I need to feel you inside me.”

His cheeks burned hot. 

“Just,” you panted, chewing down on your bottom lip until it was red and a little swollen. “Slow, okay?”

He gulped. “You sure?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “You wanna make me come?”

He nodded.

“Then yeah, I’m sure,” you murmured, brows furrowed together as you felt him glide his fingers through your folds until they were completely covered. 

And, if Luke was being so completely honest, he could have come in his pants from the sight alone. It was like at the last possible moment, his brain remembered to look up as he slowly slide one finger inside you and, fuck, he was glad he did.

He felt entranced. He felt mesmerised. He felt like he was stuck in some sort of hypnosis and he couldn’t look away. 

He wanted to burn this moment in his memory so he could never, never forget it. He wanted to memorise the way your eyes fluttered shut. He wanted to memorise the way you felt squeezing around him, like you didn’t want him to ever leave. He wanted to memorise the way your lips parted with a silent scream as he slid another finger inside you, as he curled his fingers, as you bucked your hips. 

He wanted to remember every single fucking moment until the day he died.

“A little faster,” you breathed out, your head thrown back on your pillow as he followed your instructions. “Shit, yes. Like that. Fuck.”

“Good?” Luke murmured, his whole body feeling like it was on fire and his dick straining against his boxers but, fuck, he couldn’t care less when his attention was on you.

“Good,” you confirmed with a nod as one hand gripped the sheets, the other reaching down to give your clit some attention. “So good, Luke.” 

Something in his stomach flipped at your words. 

If someone asked Luke Hughes how the last forty-eight hours of his life had been, he would tell them it had been fucking amazing. 

And if they asked him what the best moment was, he should probably answer that he has too many to choose from. That maybe it was the fact he officially started his rookie year in the National Hockey League. That maybe it was the fact he won not one, but two NHL games. That maybe it was the fact they won them one after the other. That maybe it was the fact he did all of the above whilst sharing the ice with his big brother.

But, in all fucking honesty, Luke would have chosen this moment. 

He would have chosen the sight of you writhing and squirming beneath him. He would have chosen the sight of you panting and moaning and begging. He would have chosen the sight of you coming on his fingers, your back arching off the bed and his name a whimper on your lips. He would have chosen the sleepy smile you gave him as your body twitched as he pulled his fingers out, already missing the feeling of you clenched around him. He would have chosen the look of pure lust and desire in your eyes as you watched him slide his fingers in his mouth, his body moving before his brain caught up as he sucked the taste of you off his fingers. 

He would have chosen this moment. And maybe that realisation would be a lot more alarming and head-spinning in a couple of hours, but right now it was a passing thought before he slumped down on the bed next to you.

“Luke?” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re a good student,” you murmured, feeling a smile on your lips as he let out a small huff of laughter. “A little more practice and I think you could have a good business going for you if the hockey thing doesn’t work out.”

He shook his head. “I think my skating skills are still better than my sex skills, but the confidence you have in me is appreciated.”

“Hm, true,” you said as you nudged his arm, lifting it up before you curled into his side. Luke didn’t say anything but wrap his arm around you to pull you closer. “You do skate very fast.” 

“Those two videos really told you everything you needed to know, huh?” He teased, his words light-hearted and joking and warm. 

“No, the games you just played told me that,” you corrected.

Luke froze, his mind replaying the words in his head like he wasn’t sure he heard you right the first time. “You watched my games?”

“Yeah,” you answered like it was obvious. “You said they were the start of the important ones, the ones that counted. I mean, I didn’t understand half of it and I spent a significant amount confused but,” you paused to shrug. “I wanted to support you.”

His chest tightened and it was a little harder to breathe, but he didn’t really want to let you go just yet.

“You didn’t have to,” he eventually choked out.

“I wanted to,” you answered before continuing. “Who knows, maybe I’m your good luck charm.” 

He knew you were joking. He could hear as much in your voice. But it still made his heart clench a little at the thought.

“Guess you gotta watch every game then.” 

“Guess you gotta teach me the game so I understand it then.” 

His arm tightened around you, his face burned red and his heart skipped a beat or two. But he still managed to mutter out, “Deal, Cherry.”

.

[jasmines-library]

Remus Lupin whose sense of smell heightens around the full moon. You come to him and you’re stinking of Sirius. Obviously, he’s really jealous, especially around this time, and he’s clutching you to his side, rubbing his scent all over you, basically claiming his territory.

Lunar Possession

(Art not mine, found on Pinterest. Cred to original owner)

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Note: When I say I dropped EVERYTHING the second this came into my inbox...

Warnings: Pre-full moon remus angst, possessive-ish (?) remus

Word Count: 1.7k

⛧ MARAUDERS MASTERLIST⛧

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Remus Lupin was not in a good mood. He was antsy. With the full moon so close, everything put him on edge: His ears seemed to twitch at the smallest shift in the floorboards and his nose seemed to smell every person that passed his dormitory door on their way to and from the common room. It made his stomach churn, like a boat being tossed about on the sea. It made his head pound in a steady rhythm that made it hard to focus on anything else beside the tedious beat. It was followed by a tightness too; pressing harshly against his temples. 

Remus thought he should be used to it by now. He had been dealing with the effects of the full moon for practically as long as he could remember, but he would never truly get used to it. Having you and Sirius by his side always helped though. Remus wouldn’t ever dare admit it out loud, he spent far too much time trying to convince the two of you that he was dangerous and not to be trusted, but you and Sirius calmed his nerves. You made the transformation just that bit more bearable.

He would forever remember the day that you revealed your animagus form to him. Remus could hardly find the words to express how he felt. Never before in his life had he had someone care for him the way that you and Sirius did. James too. He was scared at first,  Remus didn’t know how his friends were going to react when he told them about his lycanthropy. Almost certainly he had expected you to run and to never speak to him again. But that night you did the opposite and held him close. And Remus had never felt more loved and accepted. Now, of course he was cautious at first. Angry. Scared. But slowly the three of you had talked him into realising it was a good idea: He was coming home after each transformation with fewer injuries and seemed to be managing much easier with your help. Of course, seeing the scratches and cuts appear on his friends bodies each night made him grimace and try to convince you to stop. He was supposed to protect you and, instead, he was allowing you to get hurt. But you stayed. And Remus was impossibly grateful for that. 

Remus groaned as another ache shot through his body, and he turned tugging the blanket closer to him. The moon made him feel the need to hold you close all of the time. He yearned for the smell of your shampoo and the coolness of your skin flush against his. When the moon made him get like this Remus often found himself missing class. All of the people just made his nerves sizzle. Unfortunately, your boyfriend's condition did not mean that you also got a free pass to skip class. Or Sirius for that matter. So, instead of having you close, Remus lay curled up in his bed as his bones ached, waiting antagonisingly for you to return. 

When you finally pushed the door open quietly as to stop it creaking, you were clinging onto Sirius’ arm. You arm was looped between his and you leaned your head against the crook of his shoulder. The two of you had been like that all day, he could tell. 

You and Sirius had had a busy day to say the least. Not only had potions class run over, but you also had homework that you needed to catch up on during your lunch break. Not that you actually got much done with Sirius around. Sirius was an observer. He could tell from the way you held your shoulders higher than usual and walked with heavier steps that you were stressed. So he did all he could to help you relax a little. Knowing that you were also worried about your boyfriend, he placed gentle kisses to your forehead whilst you worked, or stole them from your lips in the corridor. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his chest to try and expel the tension from your body. Your boyfriend's efforts seemed to have helped because by the time the bell finally rang and the doors spilled open to reveal the flood of students, you were feeling much better. Especially because you could now fill the empty space that Remus’ absence had created. 

“Rem?” Your voice was quiet and tender, near a whisper in case he was asleep, or was finding everything too loud.

He peeked his head out from under the blanket, his hair tousled from hours of restlessness. You smiled at him brightly. It was enough for him to return it, and lift his sour mood.

“Hey, Dove.” he greeted, shuffling out of bed to greet you. He couldn’t help but eye his boyfriend who stood with his hand placed tenderly on your lower back. Remus’ fingers twitched. “Good day?”

You hummed, slipping off your shoes and making your way over him to wrap him up in your embrace. You knew it had likely been a tough day for him. “Better now you’re here.”

As you took another step closer to him and away from Sirius the tender moment between the two of you was interrupted. At first, Remus had thought it was because he was standing right next to you. That his nose was getting confused, another side effect of the moon, but now you were standing right beside him across the room from your other partner, Remus knew that he was not mistaken. You stank entirely of Sirius: warm, musky, rich, honey-like and a little earthy. It was complemented by the faint smell of cigarette smoke and leather from his jacket. Normally, the boy would savour the smell of his partner, but you smelt so much like him that it completely drowned out everything about your scent. Something possessive inside him seemed to switch on. 

Remus snatched you up immediately, pressing you so tight to his chest that you thought he was going to smother you. He couldn’t help the glare he sent to his boyfriend over the top of your head. Glowering, he pressed a kiss to your head as his fingers reached to fiddle with the hem of your jumper, trying to inch it upward.

You pulled away and frowned at him. Sirius also bore a similar expression. “Moony?”

“You smell of him.” It was a simple statement that came out almost as a growl in his voice. 

“Who?”

Remus gestured to Sirius, who had moved to sit on the edge of his bed, with a nod of his head. When he spoke, his tone was filled with something Remus did not possess often. Jealousy.  “Sirius.” 

Sirius furrowed his brows, before realisation crossed his face and he gave you a look. Remus was feeling left out. He had been feeling rotten all day and now he was being left with a constant reminder of how you and Sirius had been spending the day clinging onto each other instead of him. To make matters worse, the moon was making him possessive: he needed to state what was his. 

“Take it off.” Remus’ voice was demanding, but you could hear the need hidden deep behind it. “Please.”

You nodded, your hands slipping over him as you helped him to remove your jumper. Remus tossed it to Sirius and pulled you back to him. Although the jumper was gone, which had helped a little, he could still smell his boyfriend all over you. Understanding this from the way Remus shifted antstily, being the loving boyfriend that he is, Sirius moved to Remus’ trunk to pull out one of his jumpers for you to wear. Before he could reach it however, Remus snapped. 

“Don’t touch them.” Remus moved toward his trunk and took a sweater before a very startled Sirius could react. Siri nodded slowly, taking a step back and raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. When after seeing you slip it on, the boy released a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. It was better, but his mind still screamed at him: mineminemine.

“You alright Moons?” Sirius asked hesitantly, unsure or not whether to approach or not. Remus was still holding you close to him, peppering you with kisses, though he seemed to be less tense now.

He hummed, twisting toward his boyfriend but still not letting you go. This time his expression held much less venom than it had before “Sorry…” He started “I don’t know what came over me.”

Sirius took his chance to move toward him. Instinctively, Moony turned you away, but instead of trying to move you as he thought Sirius would, his boyfriend placed an arm on his shoulder. “It’s alright Rem. I understand.”

Remus tucked your head beneath his chin as your hand wandered to his own to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “Still. I guess I thought I could handle being alone today… but it was all just a bit much. And seeing her come in here smelling of you…”

“Shh” Siri hushed, smoothing Remus’ hair. “You want to lay down?”

Remus nodded. “Is that okay with you, Dove?” He asked.

“Of course.” You smiled. Taking Remus’ hand you moved over to the bed, shifting the covers out of the way so you could climb beneath them. Remus followed, tucking you close to his body once more, and then Sirius lay on the other side of Remus, resting his head on his shoulder. 

Remus relaxed into the mattress as you ran lazy circles over the palm of the hand he was using to keep you in place. He pressed his lips to your head.

“I love you.” He murmured. “I’m so glad I can call you mine.”

“And we are glad to be yours.” Siri told him. 

“Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry if I overreacted…”

“Never.” You said. “Anything for our Moony.”

Remus pulled you closer to him. You had a feeling you weren’t going to be moving anytime soon.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

MARAUDERS TAGS:

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[onyourhyuck]

Fix Me Softly. | L.DH

— Prologue: “Open wide pretty girl will ya?”

— Summary: Your best friend has the most dirtiest thoughts about you and he isn’t shy about sharing them with you.

— Genre: Himbo Haechan. Haechan’s literally the most perverted person in this fic. There’s just something about unhinged Haechan who’s a sex maniac tbh. Switch!hyuck. DUB-CON. Oral (fem receiving) and throat fucking (male receiving). Unprotected sex. Haechan is obsessed with y/n thighs. Face riding. Pinning. Cum-play. Hickeys. Possessive Haechan.

— Notes: Sex Obsessed Haechan >>>

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There’s one person you won’t ever understand.

That person being your best friend Haechan.

He was like someone out of another world, when he’s with you Haechan knows zero boundaries. He knows zero social cues. When you are around him Haechan is almost like a wild-animal.

“God you’re so pretty when you study. I want to kiss you so bad Y/n.” He wasn’t shy at all even though he’s meant to be doing this working assignment with you in your bedroom, he was too distracted by your serious face watching the laptop.

You’re trying your best to not give out a reaction considering that Haechan actually enjoys having you hear his dirty thoughts about you all the freaking time. Every minute you guys are together there was not a single moment where he doesn’t tell you how much he wants to fuck you.

You frown looking over at him. “Did you finish your assignment yet or are you here to disturb me?”

Seeing Haechan watching you so intensely it’s almost as if he was already imagining himself wanking off to you while he sees your serious face. He loves it when you scold him too.

Haechan pouts a bit. “No I didn’t finish the assignment. You’re too distracting.”

You sigh. “I told you if you won’t take this seriously I won’t invite you back to my bedroom.”

“But I want you so bad, you can’t do this to me. Please just one kiss and I’ll focus that’s all it takes for me to focus on our college assignment.”

You’re in disbelief at your best friend. Haechan has always had this thing about you. He enjoys your presence and your company. You’re attractive and he just so happens to be attracted to his best friend. Haechan doesn’t even want to hide it how much he is attracted to you.

Sometimes he would lean to kiss you and you would move your head to push him away. Sometimes in class he wants to touch your thigh so badly so he does it and you slap his hand away.

“I really have the urge to take off my jeans and have you take my cock in your mouth right now…” he whispers, as if this was a very casual thing to say to a friend right now.

At times you’re the one rejecting him and telling him to keep his annoying thoughts away because he feels like you don’t believe him when he says how much he wants to fuck you. How much he wants to take a taste of your pussy or the fact that he actually wants to kiss your tempting little pretty lips.

“You’re such a pervert.” You mutter mockingly while he leans in to kiss you on your mouth but you move your face away.

He whines when you moved away from his lips just about when he was going to touch them.

Haechan curls his fingers on your sleeve that you’re wearing. You glare at him now that you see how much he was giving you those puppies eyes.

“Ahh Y/n please one kiss won’t hurt you.”

You can’t believe him but sometimes you really do have the urge to shut him up by kissing him so he could just do the work.

“Shut up and do your work already.” You huff. How do you fix your best friend? You have no idea how to fix Haechan at all.

Haechan draws shapes on your arms with his fingers while watching you. The black hair with white stripes in them make him look edgy but in a way the edgy clothes and style he has makes him attractive. You do admit your friend here was very attractive and he probably has many pros to himself.

But the only side thing is that Haechan wants to have your mouth stuffed full of his meat in your mouth and you’re unstable to process that image in your head.

The fingers with black nail polish on them softly tan down from your forearm to your thighs now to draw shapes on there.

You stare at him while he keeps the eye contact back. For a moment you’re just watching each other in complete silence.

He wasn’t doing his work, and you’re rocking with the fact that there won’t be any work done between you guys at all.

“Please Y/n one kiss… I’m begging you.”

Haechan whispers to your ears with his soft whining voice sounding almost like whimpers that makes your skin crawl.

You’re tempted to just do it so you can get on with the college work honestly.

You glare forward with your hand reaching out grabbing a hold of his chin and slowly lean in kissing him roughly for a second or two. You pull away and leave your hand on his chin. You saw the boy gasp and how much he enjoyed it he was moaning by a single touch of your hand on his skin, and a single small kiss took half of his breath away.

Haechan was craving more now that he knows how your lips feel on his. He leans closer and takes a longer kiss on your mouth without you noticing. You’re now kissing Haechan, trapped in a kiss he puts on your body while crawling on top of you with his running hands down to your waist.

The laptop was pushed aside and you’re kissing him back feeling your senses shut you down. Haechan’s tongue roams across your own walls while he was kissing you. Exploring your sweet lingering mouth that he’s been fantasying about for so long.

It feels so artful to have you spread out on your bed in your dorm room with clothes coming off so gracefully leaving your figure looking empty until Haechan pressed forward his heart-shape mouth dangerously trailing down to your dainty collarbones, upwards your neck leaving marks on your tidy skin. It made you look like a toy in his eyes, but you’re now his toy to be played with. You belong to him now, because the sight of those love bites were a bright reddish colour spreading right up and down your throat angle.

Adding the adept hands between your thighs, he squeezed your inner thigh before rubbing it up and down. The small caresses has your fuzzy mind overflowing out a cracking hole out of nowhere, and the area on your panties were soaking by the time he was gazing you with such a high maintenance look behind those eyes, that tell you you’re not going anywhere.

So clean and cunning. The growing shaft in those tights jeans of his was hardening by the sight of your open legs where he ran down a single finger down to your clothed clit.

You moan on the outside, despite trying to mentally keep your own noises away from reality. You’re here staring Haechan down as he admires your leakage patch on your panties.

“Oh Y/n…you’re so wet for me. I always knew you wanted me but you were playing hard to get. You’re such a minx.” He coos with a growling tease.

Looking at your dumbfounded expression when he said this. Haechan leans down to your ears kissing it. “You’re such a whore, I knew you were lying to me. Rejecting me all this time.” His hands squeeze your hips as he lifts you up on the bed a little.

You mumble a few trails of sighs when Haechan suddenly swapped your positions with you on his lap while he was leaning back casually. Expression on his face tells you he wants something from you and you’re bound to give it to him. It was a fact and not a choice here, and your stomach had this strange fluttering knot deep inside telling you to do it.

He leers mockingly. “Why don’t you let me have a taste of your pussy, Y/n?”

Brushing over his hands on your thighs up and down as you shiver when hearing his words, your voice comes out so tiny and small compared to Haechan’s voice and his intimidating eyes. The black eyeliner on the waterline makes his black eyes so much more magnetic and the black painted fingertips brushing down the skin on your thighs, you could dissolve like crazy from how good his touches feel.

The question was rather sounding like a statement more than an actual question.

You knew deep down the rhetoric answer for him when he moved up to your ass behind groping it pulling your body up only a bit so your thighs welcome the sight of your pussy above him. Haechan pushed aside the wet patch on your panties on the side and then, a grounding slithering wetness of a warm wetness covers your womanhood. Haechan is almost like a starved maniac, coating your cunt with his warm saliva with extreme motions. Circling down the tip of his tongue inside your walls only to pull away and press down even more force of his lips on your own tempting lips down below.

It was wet and sloppy just like how Haechan liked it. He loves hearing your body jolt with each movements because you don’t know what else to expect from the eccentric sex maniac underneath you eating you out.

You don’t know what he will do next, but all you can think about was how skilled Haechan was at eating you out while you’re pressing your thighs on the sides of his face and shoulders. Your toes were curling up with each stroke of his gliding tongue.

He growls against your mound while tightly digging the fingernails in your thick thighs.

“Roll your hips for me baby, please.” It sounded so desperate when Haechan rasps out below your sensitive parts.

It was a demand too. Springing the hips backwards and forward around in all sorts of motion you’re realising the increasing pleasure of your own body, driving down a road. The boy underneath you was nothing more than just a hungry wild animal growling against your wet slit running down his chin.

You’re releasing out your moans without a single thought able to be processed; it’s like every single braincell you had was now no longer existing.

Knot in your stomach was heavy, like a threatening ticking bomb ready to combust.

Haechan loves how you are riding his face now to your own pace that became extremely fast when the pleasure you felt became so much more intense than the high you’ve received from him previously. Dragging down the black painted fingernails on your thighs you’re grunting when you feel Haechan sucking on your clit. Abusing it.

Pressuring on your clit sucking on it with his plum heart-shape lips, as well as vibrating his grunting noises that he can’t contain. You taste absolutely heavenly to not comment on.

He fantasise too much about you. Too long he waited for this moment you’d give in to his shenanigans. It’s been far too long.

One point in his life Haechan was convinced that he cannot be fixed by anyone. The obsession he has with you wasn’t something ordinary.

But here you are Fixing Him Softly by letting him have a taste of you, letting him eat you out like the silly whore you are. Oh how the tables have turned. You ended up rejecting him for so long only to end up in this vulnerable position.

“That’s right, you’re about to cum aren’t you?” Haechan affirms with a domineering tone that creates goosebumps on your skin.

You’re nodding your head. “Fuck— Yes…! I’m right there…”

“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you gasp.

Undertook by the coming heat happening in between your spreading legs you are nipping at your bottom lip as broken incomplete moans break out. Haechan sucks on the sensitive side part of your pussy finally eager to taste your running juices that are dripping all the way down his chin and neckline. You’re holding your own hanging mouth as the heat on your face creates this flush, as if you were sick. You’re unable to see or breathe for a long moment or two. It leaves behind this scorching ember burning in your stomach.

Quicker strokes pull out of you as Haechan was groaning when your thighs tenderly pushed and squeeze around his face, while he rubs down his hand on your bare back.

“Such a filthy slut, that’s right take all of it.” He said with heavy groans coming out as if he held his breath in when the taste of his tongue remains. “Mmm, I love this perfect pussy of yours.”

He was so drunk on you. Drunk of your taste.

The growing number in his pants was due to take place when he looks back at your feverish face. You look so intoxicated, as if he made you this way.

Grabbing on your body the hands creep at your back while the place changes. You’re moving when you see him standing up over the bed dropping down the thick layer of jeans down, along with the boxers. He saw your eyes widen immediately when you saw the shaft spring up looking so wide and big.

Eyes lurches down to his cock threatening you by standing up against his perfectly flat and tone stomach. The beautiful tan on his body makes you salivate and drool. You cannot hold back when your eyes crawl higher up to take a look at Haechan who was smirking.

He purrs. “Open wide pretty girl will ya?” Brushing his fingers under your chin stroking it, you shiver as you feel your cheeks heat up.

You weren’t expecting the sight of him to be this ethereal.

Your voice comes out hushed. “Mm Haechan…” As the round ball shaped tip pressed by your mouth. He purposely teased your mouth by making his large tip poke but not go in your mouth at all.

The tip pulls at your lower lip and you whine when he was now deciding to be such a tease.

“Hurry up.” You demand with your stern eyes, loving that you’re now getting more demanding and less shy.

“Nuhuh baby, i give commands here.”

Haechan wants to see what you’d do if he continued to be as bratty as he is now. You’re waiting for him to give you the next move but he was staying still.

Biting his bottom lip when you glare at him. There’s no way you’ll let him boss you around when you’re this needy to have a taste of him now.

Pulling your palm over the shaft you grab it forward pushing the very fine thickly round shaped tip inside your warming mouth. Haechan wasn’t expecting you to be this quick with your reflexes. He didn’t see this coming. To watch you take slight control of the situation by pulling his entire length inside your mouth. You let him overfill your space.

It feels so damn good though.

He bit his bottom lip, raspy husked speaking out as his hands brushed your hair into a messy half-tried ponytail. “Goddamn baby…didn’t know you had that in you.”

Shifting between teasing you and sounding so heavenly under you. Haechan was enjoying the sight of your head bopping up and down — you took him so seriously and perfectly in your small mouth. Despite the large size, you managed to reach down to his very end.

You make him limp with each stroke your tongue rolls against wrapping your saliva and own slipping tongue like a blanket on his cock.

Stuffing you full but you don’t seem to mind when Haechan was moaning vocally.

He was very open about you knowing every— and you mean every trailing dirty thought he has in his brain right now.

“Shit. You look so much better with my cock stuffing you full. I bet you love this don’t you?” His tongue licks his bottom lip. “Am I right?”

Brushing fingers in the messy ponytail behind your head so he could see the full show you put on while your kitten licks turn to strokes.

You moan a sweet hum against the shaft as you’re trailing down your lips even more.

The tension only grows as you’re sucking him so much Haechan can barely stay still. You’re making him physical weak on the knees and he can’t stay still when you’re practically sucking him dry.

Haechan thrusts forward the hips. Whenever it got so much you’re dragging down his cock into your throat so the thick mushroom tip was banging the back of your mouth, as you deep throat him, Haechan couldn’t help but want more deep ness and he became greedy.

Hips thrust even more and more into your face making all sorts of gagging sounds come out while Haechan’s black hair with soft white streaks became messy hanging down his eyes while the dark gaze was watching you take everything he gave.

Fucking your mouth was always a dream come true for him and now that he was experiencing what fantasy he craves,

He can’t get enough now.

“Oh…oh mmfgh y/n you’re doing so well right now, give me more… please give me more. Please.. fuck,”

Crying out for you. Haechan’s eyes go dim and he was breaking every soft whine escaping those shattering lips.

“I need you to milk my cock dry until i can’t cum anymore.”

You knew that he meant every word underline in bright red. He was being serious. Haechan wants you to suck his own very soul out of him.

Who were you to say no to Haechan when he was begging you so nicely? You feel some empowering dominance over you now when you see the boy shaking from the overstimulating electricity running down his spine and overtaking the very burning ball feeling in his stomach.

Flickering your tongue down his cock once more, Haechan’s head sputters. It feels like a raging headache has split his head into two. The overfilling sensation of cumming inside your mouth as the final push results in Haechan’s knees becoming jelly.

Haechan wails. “Cumming… ah fuck, fuck. I love your mouth so much.. so good,” He breathes heavily.

Detaching your jawline pulling away from the cock in your mouth, it slips out with a watery liquid that tastes between sweet and salty. You can’t put your tongue on what he tastes like. But it was definitely rewarding.

Especially when you see the tired exhaustion on his face.

It tells you everything. You made him have the biggest orgasm he could ever imagine. Haechan gasps when he sits down with a sluggish head on the pillows and you turn your head towards him.

You definitely fixed him. Made him much calmer.

“You still have your assignment to finish.”

You remind him with a strict gaze.

Haechan closed his eyes grumbling. “I know, I know. I’ll finish it in a minute just give me a second — geez Y/n you just sucked me into the next century and you mention the assignment!”

“Okay? Don’t act like you didn’t tell me to do that.”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.

[cheqorb]

Sotto Voce.

Gaslighting everyone into believing you’re a really shit footballer because seeing people be impressed by your sheer lack of skill is more fun than being a genius.

FEAT. Bastard München ensemble

NOTES. uhhaua cross posted on ao3 (same user) but ajyway, thought this idea was funny and because of this lingering feeling of sadness i haha managed to Complete this?? Gosh im beside myself with worry!!

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

Isagi thinks he might be seeing things. Maybe all the relentless training in Blue Lock has finally caught up to him, leading him into a football-induced delirium, because he can’t quite comprehend what he’s looking at right now.

You’re moving across the field with a fluidity he’s only seen in pro-level players, doing tricks and turns he’s pretty sure aren’t even in his playbook. You glide past the defence, controlling the ball with a finesse that’s nearly supernatural — hell, he thinks even someone of Rin’s calibre would be breaking a sweat to try and keep up.

And you look bored while doing it. Eyes half-lidded, posture almost lazy, as if this is just another walk in the park and not you showing off world-class football technique.

Isagi’s mind races to make sense of this. You’d always been, well, normal to him.

Sometimes you’d play in a match, most other times you’d sit out on the sidelines. And he’s usually pretty sharp about these things, so it must’ve been because you just… didn’t stand out.

Yet here you are, pulling off flawless plays with little more than a mild yawn, as if winning against the top players here would barely register on your radar. Maybe it’s just luck, some freakish one-off, right?

… Nope. You just drilled another perfect goal into the top corner of the net.

He snaps out of his thoughts only when you suddenly stop mid-play, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, there’s a flicker of panic in your gaze and he opens his mouth, not even sure what he’s about to say.

“Y/N-”

You’re stomping towards him before he can even process the whole thing, your pace quicker and more full of menace than he’s used to seeing on you. You stop just short of him, tilt your head slightly, and in the calmest voice, say, “You saw nothing.”

He tries to stammer out something, but you leave soon afterwards.

────

Tripping over the ball is harder than it looks, but after enough practice, you’ve perfected the art of falling in a normal fashion. To most people, it’s convincing. Prior to a few days ago, you’d say all people but there’s a certain someone who entertains himself by boring holes into the back of your skull with an intense, unblinking stare.

You can feel it. Isagi waiting for you to slip up.

Actually slip up, instead of the falls you’ve gotten so good at imitating. It’s detestable, honestly. You’re trying to keep things as they’ve always been, and he just wants to come in and mess with the status quo!

Luckily for you, Igaguri’s too much of an idiot to harbour the same suspicions. Right now he’s too busy practically doubling over with laughter on the floor. The guy is probably thrilled to finally see someone playing the fool even more than he does. And as much as he’s a pain, he’s also the kind of person who makes perfect cover — play the role of an idiot, laugh it off with him, and everyone’s none the wiser.

So, in spite of your (what most would call) vindictive description of him, you do believe that some sort of strange pleasure is to be gained from surrounding yourself with people like him. Though perhaps that also makes you a terrible person.

The feeling is nothing like the rationale that Noa preaches about so often. It’s an undeniable truth in your heart.

Which is why you avoid the people who actually know what they’re doing on the field like the plague.

Yukimiya, on the other hand, is way too polite to laugh outright. He at least has the common sense to stifle it, reaching out a hand to help you off the ground with a quiet charm that makes people swoon. No wonder he’s a model.

Now, the imaginary audience in your mind might be wondering why you’re talking with a guy like him? Your answer: he’s not as notable ever since he patched things up with Isagi. He’s now the kind of person you can talk to without raising any brows. Again, it sounds harsh but you see it in a positive light. He’s becoming just the kind of person you adore most!

“Try and keep a close eye for stuff on the ground, alright?”

You flash him a grin, nodding. “You know me, just a total klutz all the time,” you reply as your usual happy-go-lucky self, making sure to project just loud enough for Isagi to hear.

And out of the corner of your eye, you catch that familiar look of suspicion deepening.

────

The silence that follows is brutal. Hiori and Kurona exchange a look that’s way too long for Isagi’s comfort. After finishing whatever telepathic debate they have with each other, they both stare back at him like he’s just pitched the most psychotic theory imaginable (which isn’t entirely untrue).

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he mutters, deflating a bit.

Hiori’s quick to reply, but Isagi is aware of the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “It’s not that we don’t believe you. But, ya have to admit, it’s strange to hear Y/N… of all people, doing something like that.”

That’s code for what the fuck are you talking about, Isagi concludes with a grimace, his eyes shifting to Kurona hopefully.

“Crazy. Crazy.”

Kurona’s tone is deadpan, his gaze distant as if he’s trying not to laugh. Great.

Isagi sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Maybe he is the one who’s going crazy here. It shouldn’t even bother him this much. It’s not like you’re particularly close! If anything, he can barely remember a conversation between the two of you that went beyond asking if you’d seen so and so.

And, judging by the responses he’s getting from both of his teammates, neither of them can figure out why he’s fixated on this either.

────

Noa is going on and on about practice drills, how to follow his instructions precisely, something about rationality and technique, blah, blah, blah. You stifle a yawn. If this is what being in one of the top clubs means, you should’ve begged Ego to be in Barcha instead. At least Lavinho would’ve been fun.

You hear his coaching style isn’t by any means phenomenal if you’re trying to improve your skills, but good thing you’re not planning on doing anything of the sort!

And just when you think you might actually pass out from boredom, you see Isagi walking over. Again. He’s approaching with that same cautious look, but it’s not enough to make him think twice about bothering you apparently. That’s also something that bugs you, he’s never a quitter.

You flash him an oblivious smile. “Oh, Isagi! Whatcha up to? Need anything from little ol’ me?”

You lay it on thick, voice dripping with cheerful innocence. His jaw tightens, and for a second, you swear you can see a flicker of annoyance on his face. That’s new. Your words have the opposite effect than what you had originally intended.

“Listen, I know what I saw, alright? You’re not fooling anyone.”

He launches into a whole spiel about how he’s seen you pull off moves that only high-level players can pull off, how he doesn’t care if it’s part of some large game you’re playing, how you should be using your skill to distinguish yourself.

…You really don’t give a shit, and in regards to his comments, you personally disagree! What’s the fun in doing all of that?

You tilt your head, pretending to think it over with wide, guileless eyes. Sure, you’re a little flattered he’s this invested in uncovering your “secret,” but the other 99% of you is totally unhappy.

When he finally wraps up his little speech, you just give him a half-hearted shrug with a smugness that he doesn’t miss.

“And who’s going to believe you?”

────

Kaiser likes to think of Isagi as predictable, average — someone who might fancy himself a hero but is ultimately just another small-time player waiting to be crushed. It’s almost laughable how seriously he takes himself. In fact, the only thing remotely worth mentioning about him recently is this bizarre fixation he seems to have developed on you.

He’s overheard your exchanges, and in short, they’re pathetic.

Isagi rambles on about how you’re hiding something, clinging to that delusion like it’s going to benefit him somehow. The psychology-lover inside him finds it almost fascinating in how utterly absurd it sounds.

So, when Kaiser spots you chatting with the ever despairing Grim (laughing so hard you have to hold back tears), he figures it wouldn’t be wrong to call you at least a little insane. Part of him wonders what humour could be found in the man’s deplorable monologues.

He figures he might as well join in on the entertainment. You’re far from his usual company, but you’ll do. For now. Moseying on over, his signature smirk is already in place.

He’s rewarded by the way your eyes immediately narrow in irritation, a look he’s all too familiar with and thoroughly enjoys on anyone really. Grim, blissfully unaware of what he’s leaving you to, heads off, and now it’s just you and Kaiser.

Leaning in closer, he asks, “What little secret of yours has got under Yoichi’s skin so badly?”

Kaiser waits, watching for the faintest flicker of reaction but you stay silent. How boring.

But! Not one to give up easily, he continues with a more direct jab, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. The one where he acts like he knows everything there is to know about everyone. “That you’re really skilled, and this whole clueless act of yours is just a cheap facade?”

He raises a brow, as if daring you to admit it. To his delight, you lift your head, finally meeting his gaze albeit with an uncomfortably polite smile.

“I was just surprised you’re interested in something like that. But, Isagi’s a total liar. Isn’t he just so annoying? I can’t stand people who just don’t know when to give up, and I’m sure you agree.”

It’s not often someone catches him off-guard, and though he recovers quickly, the flicker of surprise is still there. Kaiser also sees opportunity however. He could work with this.

“Well, if you’re not a fan of Yoichi then feel free to join my side then,” he drawls, offering the position like it’s a dream come true. In his world, he’s already the star; what better way to elevate himself than to recruit someone.

“Ah, no. You’re both terrible.”

He can’t tell what’s worse; you lumping him together with Isagi, or the fact that you immediately walk off without giving him a chance to get the last word in.

────

“It’s like asking me if I prefer cat shit or dog shit. It’s still shit, and there’s no point in picking one over the other.”

You toss the comparison out to Kiyora, of all people — a bit of a waste since he just stares blankly at you, not saying a word. Pretty cute, actually, in a clueless sort of way.

The reality is that, at the moment, if you want a shot at the regulars, you’re supposed to cosy up to either Isagi or Kaiser. And as for everyone else? They’re can either fuck off or pray for a miracle.

Of course, you couldn’t care less about making the regulars. But every now and then, you forget there are people around you who do care, people with actual ambitions. Which is why you pause when you catch sight of Hiori and Kurona.

“Oh, Hiori and Kurona,” you point out the obvious.

They both glance your way, casual and relaxed, which gives you the impression that Isagi hasn’t roped them into his latest paranoid theories. Yet.

“Are ya heading back to training already?” Hiori asks, his soft voice and accent making it sound more like an invitation than a question. There’s a kindness to it that’s almost unsettling here in Blue Lock, but you return his smile with one of your own nevertheless.

Kiyora gives a small nod. “Yeah,” he says, brief and to the point.

You’re half-considering some excuse to slip away and do your own thing, but there’s something about the way Hiori is looking at you that draws your attention. Unlike Isagi, he’s way better at hiding it, but you can still feel his curiosity prickle under your skin.

You give him a lazy smile, leaning into the idea. “I’m already so tired from this morning’s training,” you lie, exaggerating just enough. “Honestly, going to bed early sounds great right about now.”

Morning training was barely enough to get you sweating, just a couple of warm-up drills for the afternoon matches. You doubt they have any clue what you’re talking about, which is exactly how you want it.

There’s a quiet pause, and then Hiori breaks it with a gentle but firm nudge. “Well, if yer looking to get on the regulars consistently, training more could be worth a shot.”

You force a smile that probably looks more akin to a grimace. This is exactly why you don’t like smart people. They poke and prod until your story frays at the edges. He definitely asked that on purpose! With a heavy sigh, you end up walking with them toward the pitch, despite every nerve in you screaming to veer off.

You can’t help but wonder if this is a test.

[buuniebaby]

receiving and giving head 👅👅

IN THE BACKSEAT - PT1

showing how greatful you are for the way your boyfriend cares about you.

notes: I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH. before I left I had an idea based on this ask + another ask to make a fic about hamzah giving u head, receiving, and giving him a handjob, and I was gonna make them 3 lil short blurbs but i kinda got carried away and decided to just make 3 fics.

contains: kinda dubious consent, road head, the sloppiest toppy you’ve ever seen

wc: 2k 🎀

it’s not uncommon for your boyfriend to get sick of being indoors. it’s almost like an itch, driving him to get out, move, go do something to keep him from bed-rotting.

it’s a feeling becoming far too familiar this morning, creeping up into hamzah’s head because he’s just so suffocated by the house around him. his bed doesn’t feel comforting anymore, just messy and overwhelming. it stresses him out.

the feeling starts to get visible when you watch as he starts doing that thing where he bounces his leg up and down as fast as he can.

“you good?” you ask, looking up at him from your side of the bed. you’ve known him for long enough to know that something’s up - now you just need to go through the 3-4 things that could actually be wrong and figure out what’s bothering him.

“just.. bored.” he says, shrugging to himself. it’s a surface level response, not letting you in as deep as you’d like to be, but it gives you all the information you need.

“y’wanna go for a drive?” you ask, first solution coming to mind. it shocks him for a second, how you’ve come up with the perfect solution given nothing to work with, before he remembers that you know him better than anyone. of course you can guess that he’s restless.

“how did you-“ he says, cutting himself off because he really doesn’t need to argue with you. “yeah, I do.”

“I’ll go with you.” you say, shrugging the blanket you were nicely tucked into off of you in one swift movement. he jerks a little, noticing the way you seemed comfortable under the covers.

“you don’t have to-“ he stutters, but you’ve already made your way out of the bed to get ready.

“want to. it’s fine.” you mutter as you walk to the bathroom. “plus, i’m hungry. this is like, the perfect opportunity to force you to take me through a drive thru.”

not much time passes before you’re hamzah’s passenger princess, dropping to the side of your boyfriend and cranking the seat back to whatever makes you comfortable. as if it’s an instinct, one of his hands creeps it’s way to your thigh, slowly rubbing the flesh. you’ve noticed that physical touch seems to comfort him, even if it’s as small as just having a hand on you.

you tap your fingers on the dash in a rhythmic pattern as he drives, subconsciously trying to pass the time. he looks over at you, noticing your restlessness, and shooting a quick smile at you before focusing himself back onto the road. it makes your heart thump a little harder for a second, and you melt back into your seat.

“have to go to the gas station,” he mumbles, eyes still locked in on the road. “pick up some stuff.“ all you can do is just reply with a soft “mhmm,” knowing from his tone that he’s probably got a lot on his mind.

it’s not long before he’s pulling into a parking lot, tapping your thigh with his hand before he pulls it away to open the door. “be right back, love you.” he mutters; a small comment, but it means the world to you. it’s the way he goes out of his way to make sure you’re safe, knowing he’s not going to be gone long - it’s a sweet gesture.

you’re finding yourself staring out the window into space for a few minutes, before you flinch at the sound of the door opening again. suddenly, you’re melting into your seat again - this time, with a warm smile.

there hamzah is, few things in hand - most notably, an arizona tea can in your favorite flavor. something you didn’t even have to ask for, but he still thought of. your stomach flips and it hits you;

he really cares.

he shoves himself back into his seat, nonchalantly handing you the tea and cracking open an energy drink for himself. you just keep staring at him while he gets comfortable, a adoring glare in your eyes. he doesn’t notice it until he buckles his seatbelt and looks over at you, doing a double take when he realizes how intensely you’re staring.

“what?” he chuckles, searching your face.

“you’re so sweet.” you say, a mix between a smile and a frown on your face forming as you hold your drink in your hands. he looks back at you like you’re crazy.

“it’s just like, a drink-“ he replies back, confused at your demeanor. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t get it.” you sigh, lovingly. “like, I didn’t even have to ask. you just.. thought of me.” you duck your head, softly smiling while rubbing your fingers together.

“i guess.” he replies back as the engine of your car revs, still not understanding why you’re so amused by a simple act. “just wanted to see you smile.”

you think you can feel yourself melting.

he places his hand back on your thigh again as he gets back on the road, and you come to a realization.

you want to give this man the sloppiest, most earth-shattering head he’ll ever experience.

“hamzahhh..” you mumble, looking up at him with those big, glossy eyes, because you know it’ll get it to him. he looks over at you, staggering his attention between your face and the road. he lets out a little “hm?” in response to the sound of his name, making sure you’re okay.

this time, you move a hand over to his thigh, gently tracing the fabric of his shorts with your fingers while you contemplate your next move. his thighs are so fucking beefy and bulky and you think your panties are completely soaked.

“can i-“ you start, cutting yourself off when you realize what you’re about to say. you decide to move your hands a little higher before you say what’s on your mind, ever-so-slightly palming him through his shorts. he lets out a small whine, eyes losing focus on the road.

“what are you-“ he cuts himself off, nearly gasping at the impetuous feeling of your hands creeping up on him. you can tell he’s trying to keep himself from giving in to your touch.

“i wanna suck your dick like, so bad right now.”

hamzah grips the steering wheel as tight as he possibly can.

“yeah- t-that’s- yeah. okay.” he manages to get out, gasping for air. his hips rock upwards, pressing himself into your hands. “fuck- please.”

you give yourself a sly smile, celebrating your success as you reach a hand into his pants. you have to pull his shirt up a little for full access, revealing the hair of his happy trail peeking out - a sight that always gets you going. he’s already letting out a breathy moan the second your hand comes in contact with his cock, pulling it out of his boxers.

“love you s’much hamzah.” you mumble, voice drunken with bliss as you watch him grow in your hand. there’s already precum dribbling over the tip, which you swipe away with your thumb, causing him to shiver and choke on his breath a bit.

as you start to move your hands up and down the length in front of you, a tension builds. you can tell he’s struggling to focus on the road, taking desperate peeks down at the sight below him. you click your tongue.

“keep your eyes on the road, baby.” you say, making eye contact with him as you fingers wrap around his cock.

hamzah thinks he might have just died then and there.

he grumbles as he follows your orders, sweating as he locks his eyes on the road in front of him. it’s almost a little funny, knowing how desperate he is to see the scene below him. you giggle at his obedience before you flip your hair over your shoulder, mouth sinking onto his cock.

“fuck-“ hamzah jolts, feeling your lips drag across his length. “you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.” he lets out, shuddering.

you let out a laugh around his cock, and he decides he can’t take it anymore. eyes still locked on the road, he moves a hand down from the steering wheel and gathers your hair with it. before you know it, he’s created a makeshift ponytail in his hand, tugging at it and pushing your head down.

you gag a little, his cock being shoved down your throat from the mixture of him pushing your head and thrusting his hips upwards. it’s uncomfortable, but watching him take control like this is so euphoric to you - it cancels out.

you hollow your cheeks, letting out a content hum when you feel your nose make contact with the bushy hair around his cock, buried as deep as it possibly can be inside the warmth of your mouth. hamzah isn’t that mean though, so he uses his grip on your hair to pull you off for a breath.

you use your break to gather the saliva in your mouth from the intrusion of his dick, spitting it straight onto his cock, and using your hand to jerk him off with your self-made lubricant. he stays verbal, moaning as the grip on your hair gets tighter.

“didn’t know you were this much of a fucking slut.”

huh.

you like that-

you like that a lot.

his words motivate you to take control, sinking your head back down onto his cock. he moans, then lets out a low chuckle.

“y’like that, huh?” he asks, taking a glance down as he watches you nod, dick still shoved down your throat.

“such a fucking- god,” he stops himself, rocking his hips against your mouth. “such a whore, can’t have her lips off of my fucking cock for five f-fucking seconds. has to suck me off in the car, couldn’t wait until we got home-“ he rambles as his hips buck into your lips.

“fuck- baby.”

you can feel tears building up in the corners of your eyes as you continue working your tongue around his cock while it stays warm in the deep cavern of your throat. you’re shocked at how hamzah hasn’t given up and just crashed the car at this point, from the way his hips slam up into you, silently begging for stimulation.

“gonna fucking cum- shit.” he warns, struggling to get his words out. it only makes you bob your head up and down his shaft faster - he takes it as a silent invitation.

Before you can process what’s happening, there’s a twitch followed by a warmth hitting the back of your throat. it makes you gag a bit before you’re able to regain control and swallow, pulling off.

you’re immediately met with the sight of a disheveled hamzah, sweaty and fucked-out, blankly staring at the road in front of you. it’s not until you process that you’re on the road, which immediately moves your eyes to the speedometer, going a solid 20 above the speed limit.

“hamzah, holy shit, slow down.” you giggle. he needs to take a breather before he slowly nods and complies, slowing the car.

the next thing you notice is the way his cock is still out in the open, covered in a mix of cum and slobber. you wipe your mouth on your sleeve and then carefully shove his half-hard cock back into his pants; it elicits a small shiver from the boy. it’s kind of cute like this, watching him so fucked out of his mind he can barely communicate.

he fixes his posture as he begins to come back to life, rubbing his furrowed brow with one of his hands.

“holy fuck, baby.” he trails off. it’s what he says next in that blissed-out tone that really gets you.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

now that you’ve cleaned up after him, your only responsibility is to make sure he feels comforted. you rest your head on his shoulder from the passenger seat, snuggling up to his lax arm while watching him drive.

“remind me to buy you shit more often.”

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕤𝕚𝕩

around the rink

bestfriend!joe x fem!reader

summary: the one where you go ice-skating with your best friend for his birthday 🤍 (and a surprise?)

warnings: none really… just cutesy ;)

word count: 2k.

note: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY JOEY B!! i thought you guys might like a cute cozy bestie joe fic! 🫶🏻 i listened to dorothea by taylor swift, here with me by d4vd, p.s i love you by paul partohap, and night changes by one direction (hehe also bc of the mv) :)

okay guys. it’s edited and parts have been reworked. i kept a lot of the jokes about girls in because this is fiction, and they are just jokes and banter. love you.

you slide your spare key into joe’s front door lock as quietly as you can, turning it gently and slowly pushing the door open. you step inside softly, toeing off your shoes and placing the small gift bag on the coffee table before heading down the hall.

when you texted joe last night to ask if you could come over he said it’d be fine but you assumed joe would still be asleep when you got here. as you made it further and further down the hallway you began to regret not calling him to let him know you were here. ‘what if he has a girl over. fuck.’ you thought, almost turning around and heading back outside to call him.

before you could take another step his bedroom door opened, and joe screamed with a bit of fright as he didn’t expect you to be standing there. “JESUS CHRIST, Y/N!”

you screamed back at him, you were spooked easily if someone else was. joe leapt forward slightly and enveloped you in his arms, your face pressed into his bare chest. you’d only just realized he was shirtless and…. ‘play it cool. play it cool.’ you told yourself.

“what are you doing over so early? i wasn’t expecting you til noon.” he asks, craning his neck down to look at you.

“well, i was actually about to go back outside and call because i quickly realized that just coming in could have been a bad idea since it’s so early. do you— is someone else here? i can go and come back?” you ask sheepishly, wringing your hands together.

“yeah, i have three girls in my room right now.” he tells you stone-faced. your eyes widen for a moment before you realize he’s just messing with you. joe laughs out loud before releasing you from his embrace and rubbing your shoulder.

“nobody’s here, goof. you’d know if i was seeing someone.” that part was true, you and joe shared everything with each other given that you’d been friends for so long. you hadn’t seen him in a while, but you always made time to call and talk to each other, so every detail of your lives were still shared.

“true,” you echoed, but your mind was still racing. “but like, it’s your birthday. you could’ve been rocking out to jeremih in there, you get me? like birthday sexin’ it up. nasty.” you shudder.

joe laughs at you again before running a hand through his hair. “shut up. i’m glad to see you, even if it is early as fuck.” he says softly, throwing an arm over your shoulder and walking toward the kitchen with you in tow.

joe opens the fridge as soon as he’s standing in front of it, grabbing out a jug of orange juice. he pops the top off and begins chugging it straight from the bottle.

“that’s so fucking nasty, joe!” you scold him, your face crinkled up in disgust. “nobody else lives here or drinks outta this. shut uppppp. you sound like my mom.” he replies.

you roll your eyes at him and walk to the living room to grab the gift bag you brought with you. joe meets you in the doorway, and you can see the excitement glaze over his eyes as he sees the bag in your hands.

“you got me a gift? you didn’t have to.” he assures you, his voice soft as a smile creeps across his face.

“i wanted to. it’s not much, but i thought you’d like it.”

he takes the bag from you slowly and pulls out the tissue paper, crumpling it up and throwing it to the floor. you shake your head and laugh at him as you pick it up, but you keep your eyes on joe as he pulls the gift from the bag.

you got him an ornament for his tree, which you were shocked to see he’d put up since he was currently living alone. you figured robin might’ve had something to do with that. the ornament was shaped like a snowflake, and it held one of your favorite photos of you and joe. it was one that another mutual friend took of you while you were out at dinner one night.

in the picture, your mouth was full of ramen noodles, the chopsticks still to your mouth as the noodles hung out of your lips mid-slurp. joe was next to you, his face turned toward yours as he pretended to go for a bite of the side of your head. your eyes were crinkled up and joe was visibly holding in a laugh. it was one of your favorites and you knew joe loved it too.

“this is… i love it!” he says, walking over and immediately placing it on the tree, front and center. he had a few other ornaments littered around, but he put this right in the middle. “that’s one of my favorite photos of us. thank you.” he says kindly, walking over to you. joe reaches out to wrap you in a hug.

“happy birthday joe!” you say, squeezing him back. he holds you close for a moment, and you love the embrace, you’ve missed him a lot. he missed you a lot, too.

you stay there for a few moments, holding each other, but the next thing you know is joe’s grabbing the back of your head and shoving your face in his armpit. you scream and punch him in the chest as he backs off and then runs away laughing.

“you’re so gross! what is wrong with you!” you shout down the hallway, chasing after him. he runs in his room and plops down on the bed, and you follow him. you jump onto his bed too and fall back against the pillows, both of you catching your breath from laughing.

joe finally regains his composure and rolls over to face you. “so, do you have plans today? or did you wanna hangout?”

you smirk at him. “i figured we could hang out. i have a surprise for you later.” you wink.

joe doesn’t question it, he’s learned to never question you or your antics. the two of you lie in his bed for a while, catching up and goofing around with each other before deciding to order take-out and watch a few movies.

your bellies are soon stuffed and the movies are lulling you both into a quiet, comfortable slumber. you don’t mind falling asleep beside joe, you’ve done it before on many drunken nights and even through a few fucked up heartbreaks. his soft snores fill the room and soon after you’re knocked out too, off somewhere in la-la-land.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

when you wake you check the time on your phone, 5:45pm. you let out a loud sigh of relief when you realize you didn’t sleep too long, and you and joe could still make your evening plans.

you shake joe awake, gently at first, but with more force when he doesn’t budge. “joseph lee, wake the hell up!” you shout, rolling over on top of him. he keeps his eyes closed but he smiles at you, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

you suddenly feel a little flustered, but when joe opens his eyes you try to play it cool. joe looks a little nervous too, but you aren’t sure why.

you hop off the side of the bed quickly, grabbing joe by the hand and pulling him up. “put on a hoodie and some shoes, we gotta go!” you say excitedly, running toward the living room to slip your shoes back on.

joe meets you in the living room, his body clad in an old high-school football sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. you smile softly at him before taking his hand and leading him out the door. he locked his front door as you unlocked your car doors, sliding into the drivers seat quickly.

joe opened your passenger door and leaned his head in. “oh hell nah, you’re not driving me around. get out.” he protests.

“yes i am, joseph. i’m not telling you what or where the surprise is. get your ass in the car.”

joe groans in frustration and reluctantly slides into the car, buckling his seatbelt with a noticeable attitude. “you’re such a grump.” you laugh, reaching over to shove his shoulder.

you put the car in reverse and back out of his driveway quickly. the drive is short, so you don’t bother turning any music on. joe keeps his eyes trained forward. he’s pretending to be mad, but you know he isn’t. he’s probably more nervous for where you’re taking him than anything else.

when you arrive you park and turn the car off, anxious for joe’s reaction. you’ve brought him to an ice-skating rink. he looks at you with wide eyes.

“you brought me ice-skating? i’m too valuable to the team, y/n. what if i get hurt?”

your smile drops, realizing you didn’t think this through. “fuck. just like dance moms when maddie couldn’t skate.” you said, turning to face away from joe.

“i’m teasing bub. we’ll be fine. i’m sure it’ll be fun.”

you shoot him a dirty look as you both exit the car. “i tried to get it as secluded as possible. i reserved a time and told the owners about it so… hopefully nobody will bother us.” you tell him as you both walk to the entrance. “if they do you can just flash ‘em that rbf and they’ll probably hit the road.” he laughs.

you and joe grab your skates and lace up, super careful when you take the blade covers off as you get to the ice rink. neither of you are pros at skating, but you both aren’t horrible either. you take it slow at first, doing a few laps before being confident enough to try and skate with joe.

you’re both laughing as you lock hands, gaining speed as you circle the rink together. there aren’t many people there, and the people who are don’t bother you at all.

“want me to spin you?” joe asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “do i look like kristi yamaguchi to you? hell no.” you say, giving him a stern look to stamp your point. joe continues laughing as you both skate a few more laps around the rink.

when you’re finished, you both quickly come off the ice to change your shoes, carefully putting the blade covers back on before turning your skates in. the cold winter air bites at your noses and ears since the rink is mostly outside, so you and joe order travel cups of hot chocolate, yours with extra marshmallows. he races you back to the car.

you get in quickly and start the engine, turning the heat up as high as it’ll go before sipping at your hot drink. the warm liquid seeps through you and you’re thankful that the cup in your hands is warming your frigid fingers. joe smiles at you softly before taking a sip of his drink, and then places his cup in one of your cupholders.

“did you have fun?” you ask him, you’re starting to feel nervous. he licks his lips before answering, and he seems nervous again too. you aren’t sure why.

“i had so much fun. you made my birthday so special.” he says, reaching across the console to take one of your hands. you have to put your cup down too, but you extend your hand to joe after.

his thumb rubs soothing circles into the back of your hand. his eyes meet yours in a fleeting gaze. you start feeling even more nervous.

“joe… is something wrong?” you ask, concerned at his sudden behavior.

“no, i was just wondering if i could…” he trails off, still not meeting your gaze. you know he’s looking from his peripherals. you cock your head to the side in question before he turns to look at you again.

it happens quickly. one moment you’re making innocent eye contact with him, the next he’s leaned across the console, his hand gently cupping your face as he presses his lips to yours. your brain has completely turned itself off. your eyes are wide in disbelief. you have to force yourself to calm down, to focus on this moment.

you close your eyes, kissing joe back with fervor. ‘holy shit. your best friend is kissing you. and you’re okay with it?’

joe pulls away slowly, keeping his eyes trained on yours to gauge your reaction. “thank you for today. it was so special.” he says. you nod your head yes, unable to form words. joe grips your hand, squeezing it softly before sitting back in his seat and facing forward.

the drive home was the same as the drive there, quiet. full of silent words and emotions that needed to be shared. but where should you start?

photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori

[maxlarens]

ok so i had an idea for the rb photographer fic if you're up for it

first of all im like in love w ur fics i love em all

and nextly, listen to this..

charles isn't single but manwhore carlos probably is?

he flirts w our photographer and makes max jealous?? roped in by danny ofc to get them together?? what do you think??

anyway have a great day! <33333

UM OKAY THANK YOU! max x rbphotographer!reader are literally everything to me and i am SOO thrilled to have gotten this request. very in character for daniel to get everyone involved in scheming even tho max has told him not to😭 love it so much😇😇 hope u enjoy and i am SOOOO sorry this took so long xx

MV: tonight (i wish i was your boy)

pairing(s): max verstappen x redbull photographer!reader

word count: 1.9k+

Max likes to think he’s not a jealous person.

Max likes to think that— but it doesn’t mean it’s true. Daniel would and has, argued that Max is an abnormally jealous person. In the sense that Max doesn’t like to share. Doesn’t like other people playing with his toys. Not that he thinks of you (or Daniel) as his toy— that’s absurd. He’s a jealous person, not some territorial asshole with an anger problem. (Okay, sometimes he has an anger problem. He’s been working on it. It hardly crops up anymore, but he’s not territorial).

He is, again, bad at sharing, and also uniquely used to getting what he wants.

It’s not because he’s got a crush on you. Despite what Daniel would like to assume. It’s just that you’re meant to be his friend. You’re here with him, because of him. He’s meant to be able to hover around you all night, getting carried away as he tries to explain something meaningless while you give him that half-grin that you don’t even realise you’re doing most of the time. He’s the one who’s supposed to be putting his hand on your back, and leaning in to ask if you’d like another drink—

Not Carlos.

Definitely not Carlos.

(Well, at least it’s not Charles).

Instead, Max is standing next to an overeager Lando at the DJ deck, gripping his drink so hard that he’s mildly concerned the glass will shatter to pieces in his hand. Actually, that’s not such a bad idea to get your attention. Maybe if that happens you’ll stop looking at Carlos Sainz Jr with big googly eyes and you’ll come nurse his hand or whatever it is you’re supposed to do in pathetic little fantasies like the one he’s entertaining. You’re not really the nursing type though, you’re more prone to start freaking out and calling everyone on the Red Bull team to tell them that Max has irreparably damaged his hand.

Max stops entertaining that particular fantasy.

Daniel’s not here, he’s gone home to Australia for a few weeks and skipped out on this weird little grid (+ friends) party that Charles is throwing. This is good and this is bad for Max. On one hand Daniel is not here to rib him about his half-admitted crush on you, on the other hand Daniel is not here to distract him from his half-admitted crush on you. There’s Lando of course, who can be just as good in the distraction department, but it’s not quite the same. 

Lando doesn’t quite know about the raging crush, which is probably for the better. He’s been around when Lando’s tried to set up Oscar before and that was an absolute unmitigated disaster.

“Hey man,” speaking of Oscar, “You good?”

Max frowns and then half turns to look at Oscar who’s now hovering next to Lando with a fruity little drink in hand, “Yeah mate,” he answers, confused.

Oscar gets this weird little micro expression on his face that Max wouldn’t usually take any note of— his forehead creases, he raises a disbelieving eyebrow— but the skepticism grates at Max a little, leaves him wondering.

“Why?”, he caves.

Oscar shakes his head, shrugs, “You're kind of staring down Carlos."

Max's mouth falls open, just a little. He is not. His eyes flit to Lando unconsciously for confirmation before he has a chance to defend himself against what are frankly untrue allegations from Oscar. But Lando is already shrugging, making a face that says he has been.

Fuck. Max frowns. And doesn't say anything.

Better to stay quiet and look moody than to admit anything to these two. Total menaces. Well, no that's Lando. Oscar might be helpful. Still, Max isn't going to admit anything. Daniel and apparently Charles knowing about it is more than enough.

Their hushed conversation behind him fades into the background as Max turns again to look at you and Carlos— and alright he gets it now. There's definitely a different kind of set to his jaw, a scowl on his lips as he watches Carlos put his hand on your shoulder.

There is something in his gut. Something sick. The feeling he gets when he's on track and the car starts sliding, the wheels locking up. When hears the va-rum of a car go by, sees something that isn't wide open space in front of him. Something like panic starts to climb up his throat. He knows he shouldn't be this bothered by you and another person, but he can't get rid of this voice in the back of his head that says you might like Carlos more than him. That you might stop hanging around Max, texting him at all hours of the day with photos of your food or random questions, waiting for him in the garage after sessions and not just because you've got to take pictures of him, and going out for food on 'friend dates' as you've taken to calling them.

If you and Carlos... okay no, Max doesn't even want to think about it.

He starts walking over, trying to smooth his face into something less intimidating as he goes. He turns it into a strained, mouth-closed smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He directs it at Carlos.

There's a glint in Carlos' eyes that Max doesn't like the look of.

"Hi Max," he says, flashing his white teeth, he gestures to you, "I was just getting to know your lovely friend here."

Alright. Max understands instantly. This has Daniel's name written all fucking over it. Max's fake smile falls, turning into a flat look that he levels at Carlos. He's trying not to scowl because he doesn't want you to catch on to anything, but it's not easy. His phone is burning a hole in his pocket, he doesn't care if it's the middle of the night in Australia right now, he's itching to call Danny and ask him what the fuck he is thinking pulling something like this from 14,000 kilometers away?

"Mm," Max hums, unimpressed, unable to fake pleasantries even for your sake, "Great."

You look at him, eyebrows raised a little incredulously at his tone. There's slight amusement there too, he thinks, as he returns your look. You squint a little, as if to say, don't give me that look, Max Verstappen. He can feel himself smiling, the corner of his mouth lifting with ease even though the object of his anger still has his stupid hand on your shoulder.

He can't help himself when he reaches for your elbow, asks, "D'you wanna get a drink?"

You bite down on the edge of your smile, "Sure, Maxie."

You turn and say something to Carlos that he doesn't listen to. Partly because he doesn't care, partly because the sound of you saying Maxie is playing on a loop in his head, like it always does whenever you use the nickname. Which is more often than not. God, he loves it. Maxie Maxie Maxie. It sounds so syrupy sweet coming from your mouth. Smothered in affection. You're the only person, bar his mum and sister that he lets use it. Daniel sometimes, but Daniel would say it regardless, the menace that he is.

"Max," you say, hand on his bicep, thumb smoothing back and forth there, "Where'd you go?"

Max blinks. Carlos is gone now.

"Hm, no, nowhere," you frown, so he says, "Just a bit tired."

This seems to satisfy you. You slip an arm into the crook of his, linking them together as you tug him to the bar. You order him a G&T and yourself a glass of wine before the two of you head out onto the balcony where it's far quieter. Less people, less chatter. Max prefers it like this, with no one there to get in the way of your attention on him, his on you. He thinks you prefer it too.

He hopes you do at least.

You sip your wine, Max’s eyes linger on the line of your neck, the way your fingers curl around the glass, how your eyes glitter in the early afternoon sun.

“What was that earlier?”, you gesture inside, raising your eyebrows again, “With Carlos?”

Max laughs nervously without meaning to, “Uh, what do you mean?”

The ‘something sick’ is back in his gut again. He hopes you buy his nonchalance, but doesn’t feel confident you will. You know him too well. That’s his fault.

You sigh, “I mean the dick measuring contest, Maxie.”

Maxie. Maxie.

Then he finally registers your words around the loop of your voice in his head, he guffaws, almost choking on his drink, “The dick measuring contest!?”

“Yes,” you hiss, leaning forward on your stool, “Yes, Max. I’m not an idiot, you were getting territorial.”

Max blinks. Max feels red creeping up his neck. Max feels butterflies and maybe a chainsaw in his stomach.

“Wha—”, he tries again, “I—”

His mouth doesn’t appear to be working. Maybe because he’s not sure what on earth he’s supposed to say. What do you even mean? Are you trying to say that you know he was jealous of Carlos? That you know he has feelings for you? Or are you just referencing the fact that he’s weirdly territorial of his friends sometimes? What is he supposed to say in response to any of it? He can’t figure it out for the life of him.

Then you’re blushing you’re blushing and you’re saying, “You don’t have to worry, Max. You’re my favourite person here.”

Okay, alright, what the fuck does that mean? God. Max hates this. If you were any other girl he’d have asked you out literally years ago. But because you’re you and you’re his best friend besides Daniel, he can’t ask you out. He has to smother his feelings into something platonic because he cannot bear the idea of losing you.

Despite his better judgment telling him not to, Max asks, “Really?”

You hum, “Really, really.”

It happens in slow motion, it must. Or at least that’s how Max replays it in his head every night before he goes to sleep. You reach forward and put your hand over his, fingers on his wrist, thumb drawing a pattern on his upturned palm.

Then you say, in a way that he can’t figure out for the life of him, “Love you, Maxie.”

Chills run down the length of his spine, that chainsaw starts up again in his stomach. Love you, Maxie. He feels sick— like he might word vomit the entirety of his feelings for you right there and then. Instead, he forces himself to smile. Closed-mouth, eyes crinkled.

“Mm, yeah, love you,” he says back, his voice cracking as he tries to make it sound normal and platonic and not wracked with nerves.

You smile, warm, beaming and showing your teeth, like he’s made your day infinitely better by just saying those words. As if you’ve not just made his stomach churn and his heart take leaps and bounds in his chest. As if he’s not going to think about the way you’d said it every second of every day. As if he won’t dream of you saying it in every other context imaginable.

You pat his hand twice, then pull it back to take hold of your drink again. Smiling as if you’ve not ruined him for anyone else for good.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Hi hi hii! I hope all is well with you :3 I really enjoy your Boothill fics, they bring me so much joy! If it's possible, could I request something?

I've had this idea in my mind about mechanic!reader overworking themselves, not eating, sleeping, or hydrating as they should be as they can forget to tend to their own needs at times...(sadly you can't solely sustain yourself on candy and sugar)

Then Boothill comes to visit them and finds mechanic!reader in an exhausted state, basically forcing them to eat actual food and rest up.

a/n: 1.8k w.count - cw!!: mentions of being awake a long time and not eating!!

boothill just finished up two different jobs he was on, one solo and another pitching in to help a pal that was conveniently in the area. after such hard and capable work, he figures he's owed a quick pass by your shop. that, and something in the back of his head was nagging at him to swing by- and it wasn't because of his neuro-chip.

stepping through the shop's entrance, the door pushes open and the bell above the door chimes. before he can open his jaw and call out to you, searching you out in the premise, he instead starts yelling in shocked noises.

from above, a small mass of something emerges from the shadows of the ceiling. the exposed pipes that line the walls are the perfect place for something small, like critters or rodents, to trek and hide on.

the cowboy half expected a racoon or something to land on his head. what he didn't expect was the feeling of metal bashing into his face instead of a mass of fur and talons.

"son of a-!" he almost fully curses. taking two steps back in lieu of the 'attack', he raises his hand and grabs the metal clinging onto his face and hair. "get offa' me!" he hisses.

the sound of familiar beeps has him using his grip a bit more carefully. working on cooling down his insides that had been fired up into a friendzy, boothill successfully pulls ore off of his face to look at him properly.

"the hell do you think you're doin', eh lil fella?" the little assistant robot that usually stuck to you like glue flails in the air as boothill holds him between his finger and thumb by the sides of his rectangular head.

the expression the robot has on its face was accompanied by it's flinging arms and legs: [＞﹏＜]!!

"ey, ey, ey, lil dude, chill out."

boothill marches to the desk that acts less like a reception desk and more like a display counter. setting ore down, its flailing stops but the squeezed expression stays put. the cyborg bend at the waist, laying one of his arms over the counter to get- more or less- eyelevel with the little helper with the other going to his hip.

"okay, what's the problem. where's your fixer?" boothill asks. its a joke between the two of you that you act more like ore's guardian than owner. so, in regard to your identity, to ore you became his 'fixer'. ore points one of its metal coated arms behind him and one of its legs stomps. "in that back?" ore nods. "alright, let's go check on 'em shall we?"

ore, instead of taking a ride on boothill's shoulder or being carried in his palm, hops from the counter and rushes around through the doorways that you always keep propped open during shop hours. boothill struts his way through the shop, leisurely following the fella.

as he makes his way through the shop, boothill finally notes the lack of noise he's so used to hearing. no knocking on metal, or drilling of tools. no hint of work, not even your murmuring echoed through the building. it was just quiet.

well now he's just starting to worry.

adding a half-step to his stride, boothill follows the beeping provided from ore and finds himself coming through the cracked doors of your far back work room.

ore is already up on your desk thanks to your installation of small metal-sheeted pullies you made for it. its standing by your head that rests on your arms, folded over your desktop. both of its arms push against your skull, fretting in digital sounds.

walking in, boothill makes his way to your back, placing a gentle touch to the space between your shoulders. his free hand pushes against your desktop, leaning over to try and see if your face was peeking out of your arm pillow situation at all. you were out like a light, but you should be sleeping in bed.

"ey, sugar," boothill softly calls. his hand rubs against your back, rustling your shirt to try gently coaxing you awake. it gets him no where. "hey," he tries again. with a bit of a harsher shake of your shoulder, you bolt upwards. with a gasp from both you and boothill, ore stumbles backward onto its metal backend from the force in which you eject him from your skull. you whip your head back and forth, blinking wearily and rapidly before you finally register boothill's arrival.

"the hell, when did you get here?" your voice is groggy and rushed, and if the ranger hadn't just jostled you awake from your desk, he'd find it pretty cute.

"does it matter? why the hell you sleepin' at your desk? you have a bed."

"what? oh, no, it's fine." you rub your palms into your eyes, blinking back the black splotches it causes when you pull them away. "i just dozed off in the middle of something."

"uh huh." boothill is unconvienced. "you wouldn't be neglectin' your needs just for some work, now would yah?"

"what? no. no, i'm fine. perfectly healthy."

"i didn't ask if you were healthy." you don't offer him anything more and he sighs. shifting his weight, he puts on hand on his hip. "ore," he beckons the robot and it answers with a beep. "when's the last time your fixer here took care of themself?" there's a spinning dial on his digital screened face before a number pops up.

[21 hours ago !!]

boothill's jaw drops in disbelief.

your jaw drops in betrayal.

you jump from your stool, palms against your worktable while ore's 'face' lights up with exclamation points [!!!!!] before scampering away from your ire.

"are you serious right now?" boothill bites as you look over your shoulder at him. his arms are crossed, and a frown settles on his lips. it's rare you're on the receiving end of a scolding since it's usually you telling him off for being reckless or the like when he comes in for repairs. you kind of hate it to be honest.

"it's fineee," you draw out, huffing as you run your hand over your face. you have a headache, and standing up so quickly didn't help.

boothill clicks his tongue. clearly you were in no mood to listen. it dawns on him that ore's little attack from the entrance was probably him trying to persuade potential clientele away so you could rest. but seeing boothill come through the doors, the robot instead took his arrival as his saving grace.

boothill is a hardened galaxy ranger. but he also happens to be a big softie too.

"have it your way," the cowboy shrugs before pushing you away from your workstation by your shoulder. getting just enough distance between you and your job, he bends at his knees, hooks one of his arms around your side and hoists you up. you find yourself face first against his back with his tattered, red scarf brushing your cheek.

you feel and hear the contraptions and hinges in his body hiss and work to accomodate your weight over his shoulder.

"boothill!" you push your palms against the dip of his back, pushing your body up as much as you can as he starts carting you off.

"ore, be a lil' helper and grab your fixer something to put in their stomach. one of them small shakes or somethin' will do." ore, with its marching orders, obeys and dashes off once again. you almost regret that you programmed ore to obey boothill too.

in truth, boothill would prefer food in your stomach, but ore is about 2 fists tall. a prepackaged supplement from your fridge will have to suffice.

you don't fight him as much as he expected as he marches to your room where he rolls you off his shoulder and onto your mattress. landing with a soft thud, you dont have time to recover before he's throwing a pillow from the floor at your face.

"umph! hey, quit it!" you hiss, pushing the pillow aside. the ranger takes a seat at the foot of your bed as you shuffle to sit up and bring your legs in so he doesn't crush them. his knees are perched apart and his arms crossed. he watches the door, saying nothing, waiting for ore to come in. "are you really upset about this?"

"do i seem happy?" he shoots back.

"you dont need to get lippy with me," you bite as he rolls his eyes.

"i apparently do. not taking care of yourself properly? you can't be doing that, sugar." his scolding tone softens the more he talks. seeing how high strung he is about this, you feel almost guilty. you start picking at the fabric of your shirt.

ore soon brings you in something to consume that's better than nothing at all and helps sooth the post-sleep irritation in your throat. you didn't realize how scratchy it felt until you were forced to.

you're not sure when it happens, but at some point boothill has you laying down properly in your bed with a new change of clothes. and not too much later, you're sleeping before you could even try to fight back.

ore takes the empty container that was once full of your meal substitute and trots off to discard of it. boothill sits at the edge of your bed, where he's been planted the whole time. the cowboy observes you from a lean, his elbows resting on his metal knees.

you're breathing easy, which is good, but he still grimaces at the tiredness gathered under your closed, relaxed eyes. with your face washed of muck and soot, he can see your fatigue clearer.

boothill groans quietly, lowering his head as one of his hands comes to brush the hair off the side of his face and ruffle the strands together, definitely knotting it up. when he brings his hand back down, he winces when some strands pull from his scalp- his whole head is sensitive, so he should've known better.

when it seems like you're down for the count and won't wake up the moment he leaves you alone, boothill stands from your bed. the blanket is rumpled from where he's been sitting, and the impression of his presence is visible to his one good eye. oddly, it's comforting.

lifting his hat, he swings it down off his head and sets it gently on your bed side table that's littered with all sorts of odd and ends. along with a barely working alarm clock that has one of the digital numbers flickering in and out. you'll have to rewire that soon. he leaves it with you as he dismisses himself to let you rest.

beyond your bedroom, ore beeps and bops with noises as boothill sits at the reception desk. his legs crossed at the ankles and propped up on the desk with his arms crossed as he... talks? with ore.

any customer that walks in is met with a mean glare and a harsh 'get out' before he's shooing them out the door.

his nine-mililmeter is only on the desk next to him for some.... extra incentive.

a/n pt.2: i tried incorporating a few of ore's expressions with emoticons. is that lame? too cheesy? who knows. i love that little robot tho. [anyways sorry this rq took so long anon hnnnnng]

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr. Gaiman (sorry for the ramble in advance),

Hope you're doing well. I don't usually use tumblr, but every time I open it up you're here so I figure I'd drop a note. I'm a writer, but I've always had a really hard time actually WRITING instead of just thinking about it. I've had this world and its characters plaguing my head for years now, and it's only gotten worse with age, so recently I doubled down and decided it was gonna get done—one way or the other.

I recently read a passage in a book about writing that said, in essence, your first book doesn't really matter all that much if you plan to be an author. As an autistic lad, I (naturally) took this very literally and was upset at the thought. Sure, your first work is probably going to be your weakest—duh, because by the time book two rolls around you'll have had time to have faced any criticisms from your first, you'll have learned more as you write, and about the world too. But for your first book to not matter at all, no matter how passionate you are about it—I found myself wondering, "Well, what's the point at all, then?" You put in all that work, you learn plot devices, you breathe life into your characters and watch 'em toddle around, and for what? For it to just be a stepping stone? It felt intensely personal of it just being cast aside like that, and I haven't even written the damn thing yet!

MasterClass had a Father's Day sale, so I figured "why not" and went ahead and got a subscription. First thing I did was run to your class, and although I've only watched the first two parts—I want to thank you for restoring my motivation. Truth is, I think the reason that message in the writing book upset me so much is because I'm terrified of writing this damn book. I've woven so many pieces of myself into it, despite it very much being, in your words, a lie (and about a boy that lies all the time, no less), but the grief that I feel and all the complicated feelings about forgiveness are all there and very real, despite its fantastical elements. So much of it really IS more than I'm comfortable sharing with people, and the idea of baring all that out and being told it didn't matter at all? Absolutely devastating. At the end of the line? The book might actually suck. I might rewrite it, I might trash it, I might completely forget about it ten years from now, or I might sell ten copies on Amazon to family and friends and then move on with my life. It's not stepping on a yellow jacket nest in the woods, but it's still terrifying. I still can't even fathom the idea of letting anyone actually read it until I've obsessed over it for another four years, and even then! But I'll write it anyways.

Thank you.

You are so welcome!

[writingsbytee]

HIDDEN

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: NSFW; minors do not interact; mentions of domestic violence; self hate; angst; Terry is hard to read in the beginning.

SUMMARY: You’re running away from an abusive ex when you meet Terry working in one of his clubs.

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn; 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I took this idea and kind of ran with it. Let me know if you guys like it! I want this to be a series but only if you guys like it. I’m going to try switching POV’s; let me know if you guys like it or if it’s hard to follow.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper out. That fucking asshole shredded my passport. My expired ID will have to do for now. I’m running around the house trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake the sleeping monster who’s my soon to be ex. My phone vibrates in my back pocket, 

LEXI: Parked a block down, lights off.

ME: Give me 3 minutes.

I liked the message and continued to pack, I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I’d been with Rafa (ex boyfriend) for about a year before the motherfucker put his hands on me. I believed him when he said it was an accident. I looked at his tear stained face and heard the crack in his voice and thought ‘he loves me he won’t hurt me again’. Here I am two weeks later with a black eye, split lip, and I’m pretty sure some broken ribs

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I peek behind me making sure Rafa is still asleep. When I saw that he was, I let out a breath I was holding. I may or may not have slipped some crushed sleeping pills into Rafa’s evening whiskey, ensuring I wouldn’t be interrupted fleeing from his ass. Reaching under the bed, I grab my suitcase that’s pre-packed with everything I need (besides my passport) and head towards the door. 

Before my hand reaches the door handle, I look behind me at Rafa. His features relaxed in this state he doesn’t look nearly as menacing as he did two hours ago when he was beating the brakes off me. Freedom was right in front of me yet, here I was close to tears dying to crawl back in bed with him. I shook my head and took a deep breath. Turning away from Rafa, my trembling hand reached forward to grab the door. 

“Just do it Daphne,” I whisper to myself. With another breath I pulled the door open to what used to be our bedroom and walked out.  I’m doing this for me, saving my life. As dramatic as it sounds I have to get out of this relationship before it kills me. 

“Girl, it’s about time you got in this car! I thought I was going to have to come in that bitch swinging,” my half-sister Lexi said. I threw my bags in the backseat before getting in the passenger side and buckling up. (Lexi's cast pic)

“I got stage fright all of sudden. I didn’t think I’d be able to go through with it, actually leaving him. I uprooted my whole life to be with him and here I am back where I started.” I said on the verge of tears. 

Lexi took a deep breath before turning to me, “ Look Daph, I know what it’s like to be so in love with the potential of a man you’re blinded by who he really is. Rafa didn’t give a fuck about you, he proved that when he put his hands on you. Look in the mirror Daph! I love you sis, and I’m going to support you no matter what, but believe me when I say this. You took your life back today.” My eyes blur with tears as I reach across the center console to pull my sister into a hug. 

“Oh stop it before I start crying,” Lexi lets out a watery laugh before letting me go. We release our embrace and Lexi starts her SUV up, and we drive away. I don’t glance back, ready to leave this life behind me.

2 Hours Later…

“Welcome to your new home!” Lexi sings as we pull up to her apartment complex. I chuckle as we grab my things and head up to her place. 

“The second bedroom has a bathroom right across the hall. I cleaned both of them out so you can make room for all your things. I got you a key fob from the front desk and I already added your name on the lease, but don’t worry about the rent,” Lexi says as she shows me around her spacious luxury apartment. 

I spin, crushing my sister in a bear hug, “I can’t thank you enough for this Lex, I’ll start looking for a job first thing tomorrow. I have enough money saved up to get me through the next few months, so I can help with rent if you need me to.”

Lexi playfully rolls her eyes, “Daphne I love you but please shut up. You’d do this for me in a heartbeat. You’ve always taken care of me, now let me return the favor. Plus I already found you a job.” Lexi and I found each out about each other in middle school and we’ve been inseparable ever since. 

I let out a deep sigh before nodding, “I love you too Lex. Now where’s this so-called job?” I ask, raising a brow. 

Lexi makes her way towards my room, motioning for me to follow her, “You’ll work at the club with me. One of the servers got fired and we’re really short. I put in a good word with my boss Terry, he just wants to meet you first.”

Lexi works at a high end gentlemen's club named ‘Fuse’. When she told me about it I was a bit apprehensive but, beggars can’t be choosers. I figured I can work there, save up for my own place and then go from there.

“Lexi, how am I supposed to meet your boss looking like this? I’ll scare his ass off,” I say motioning to my face. 

“Don’t you think I thought about that? He’s coming here, think of it as an impromptu interview. He’s discreet and won’t ask questions. Sis if you don’t want to do this…,” Lexi trails off. 

I shake my head, “No, No, it’s fine I’m sorry. What time should I be ready?” 

Lexi squeals before jumping into my arms, “I know you’re nervous but Terry’s assured me that we’re working the exact same schedule until you get your footing. If you decide at any time that the club isn’t for you, you can leave.”

I hug my sister back, enduring the sharp pain that comes from my rib cage. the weight of today is finally taking its toll on me, “I think I’m going to freshen up and lay down,” I say, detaching myself from our embrace. Lexi nods before showing me where the towels and things are, and then she leaves me to it. Taking a deep breath I cut the bathroom light on and looked in the mirror.

I gasp out a sob as I take in my features. My bright brown eyes look dull and lifeless, well the one that opens anyway. My lip looks worse than what it is. There’s a slight bruise on my right cheek. The worst is yet to come when I lift my shirt taking a look at my torso. 

“Oh my god,” I sob. I’m a nurse by trade so bruises, cuts, and blood don’t really affect me. But, seeing them on me is doing something crazy to my mind. I deal with cases like this all the time, vowing I’ll never be that woman. And here I am, that woman. I get in the shower on auto pilot. Not enjoying the art of getting clean like I usually do but just trying to get everything done. Once clean I moisturize and make my way into my new room. I don’t know how long I lay there and wait for sleep to take me. 

My alarm startles me awake, I groan and roll over reaching for my phone. Pressing the silence button, I begin to rub my eyes. I groan and roll into a sitting position, my face feeling even more sore than it did yesterday. Making my way to the bathroom, I flip the lights and turn the shower on. My mind reels as it tries to process the last 24 hours. 

Rafa hasn’t tried to contact me, not that he could. I blocked him on everything but, still the silence is alarming. I never told him where Lexi lives, so there’s no way he could know that I’m here. Pushing all thoughts of Rafa out of my mind for now, I start getting ready for my day. After doing my extensive body and skincare routine I threw on a hoodie and leggings. I decided not to cover up my bruises for the moment. Now that it’s the next day everything just looks ugly and swollen anyway. 

After finishing my morning routine I head out to the living room to find Lexi. I can hear her talking quietly to someone, I assume she’s just on the phone. When I round the corner at the end of the hallway I stop in my tracks. There’s a literal adonis manspreading on our sofa. Well over six feet this man is sitting on our sofa looking almost too big for it. God he was fine, I’m in no space to get involved right now but I can appreciate a fine ass man. Hearing my entrance, his eyes shot towards me stopping in my tracks.

“Oh! Daphne you’re awake! Perfect,” Lexi said from somewhere in the kitchen.  Seconds go by and I see her appear with a tray with three cups of coffee on it.

“This is Terry, remember I told you about him yesterday?” Lexi says with a nervous smile on her face. I nod looking back and forth between the two. My gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on Terry. He’s looking up at me with a curious frown on his face like he’s trying to figure me out, and I’m doing the same thing.

I push my shoulders back and walk towards him outstretching my hand, “Hi Terry, I’m Daphne sorry, if I’d known you were here I would have made myself look a little more presentable.”

Terry’s shaking his head before I can finish my sentence, “It’s all good, I was in the area and figured I’d just pop by and meet my new bartender. 

My eyes widen, “Just like that? I’ve got the job? What’s the catch?” 

Terry chuckles before crossing one leg over the other, “Lexi’s right, nothing gets past you. She told me you used to be a flight nurse, so I was hoping you could help me out from time to time.”

My brow furrows, “I’m not going to have to do anything illegal am I?”

Terry takes a deep breath leaning back, his gorgeous eyes assessing me, “We’ll keep that need to know. I won’t knowingly compromise your position or have you do anything that will put your license in jeopardy.”

I go over the details in my head. Could I really do something like this? It was clear to me that Terry was some sort of crime boss. He’s sitting so comfortably in our home like he owns the place (I wouldn’t be surprised if he did). He’s got money but doesn’t want to show it, based on the Rolex and Prada shoes he’s sporting.

“What if I say no?” I say, crossing my arms. 

Terry chuckles and leans forward, “Then I guess you’ll need to go job hunting sweetheart.”

I roll my eyes and look over to Lexi, she mouths ‘say yes’. I contemplate in my mind, I’ve always played it safe until now. I went to nursing school because my mom wanted me to have a “stable income”. I went out with Rafa because he was a “safe” choice yeah, that worked out real nice. I’ve always gone with the safest option, not wanting to disappoint anyone. With recent events plaguing my brain I nod my head. 

“Sure, what the hell. I’ll do what I can within reason,” I say to Terry. 

Terry nods before standing, “Great, I’ll see you both next week, and Daphne all my bartenders wear black. Cover up the bruises but keep the makeup to a minimum.” I nod mindlessly at the things he said.  Standing at his full stature, Terry is muscular, a few tattoos here and there and a face to die for. I was getting starstruck by my damn boss, which cannot happen. He exudes power, commanding each room he walks into, his height and size have nothing to do with it. It’s his aura he just gives off the vibe that he doesn’t take any shit. 

Terry nods to both of us, “Ladies,” he said, and then he was out the door. 

I sigh deeply and lean against the doorway, “Jeez Lexi you didn’t tell me your boss was finer than baby hair.”

Lexi laughs heartily, “Girl, it wouldn’t have mattered. Terry’s like a forcefield, he lets no one in.” I chuckle lightly and roll my eyes, making my way towards the sofa. I plop down and grab the coffee Lexi made. 

“So tell me about the club. What should I expect?” I ask while sipping my coffee.

Lexi settles in next to me, cutting on the TV, “It’s a high end strip club / gentlemen's lounge, so we have lots of politicians, upper level business men, basically anyone who can afford the fifteen hundred dollar membership fee. You and I will work the bar, as long as you show a little cleavage and laugh at their shitty jokes they’ll tip you well and leave you alone for the most part. You don’t have to worry about guys getting handsy, Terry used to be a Marine, so a few of his buddies from back in the day are working security.”

I nod following along, “Does Terry usually show up a lot?” I ask.

“Well, it is his club. So yeah he’s there most of the time in his office. He usually only comes out if there’s a problem,” Lexi said. 

“Hmm,” I reply with a nod. This was definitely going to be an interesting experience.

A WEEK LATER

“Daph! Come on! We’re going to be late!” Lexi yells upstairs. I sighed looking over at myself in the mirror, a simple black activewear jacket and leggings (link). My eye is almost healed, nothing a little concealer can't fix. I’m still favoring my right side because my ribs are still pretty sore.  I spray myself with my sparkling lychee perfume, grab my tote and head downstairs to meet my bratty ass sister. 

“Keep your panties on Lex I’m coming!” I shout as I look for my asics. Once I finally find them I meet Lexi at the door plastering on a fake smile.

“I’m sorry. Are you ready to go now?”,I ask with fake enthusiasm. Lexi just rolls her eyes and opens the door to lead us out. We head to her SUV and make our way to Terry’s club.

“Okay, so what should I expect?” I ask Lexi.

“Well it’s a Thursday night so it won’t be too busy but it’s a good thing you wore those shoes. We’ll be paired together so I’ll make drinks and you’ll take them out. Table one starts to the right of the door, and then they’re numbered clockwise,” Lexi said, adjusting the heat settings in the car. 

“I mean it sounds easy enough. I just haven’t worked in a club since nursing school. I might be a little rusty,” I say, getting self conscious. Lexi reassures me as we begin heading towards downtown. 

TERRY

This can’t be the sister Lexi was talking about, this is going to be a problem. She’s beautiful, fucking astonishing. I can’t even see the bruises, probably makeup which she doesn’t need.  She exudes a softness that has no business being involved with me and my business. I sweep my eyes over her before landing on hers. Lexi told me her piece of dickhead boyfriend beat the shit out of her. She doesn’t look bad, but her limp tells me otherwise. A part of me wants to find the sorry motherfucker and break his knees, but I’m acting too irrational over a woman I just met.

I’ve been watching Lexi show her the ropes from my loft office. She seems to know what she’s doing catching on pretty quickly. I adjust myself for the second time as she bends down to pick up something. 

“Ass fat as fuck,” I mumble watching it sway in her leggings. She drops off a tray of drinks at the police commissioner’s table and I watch as every set of eyes drop to her ass as she turns and walks away. She might be a problem

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Ok I didn’t want to get too deep in this in case y’all don’t like it. So please please like and comment if you want more. I’m so grateful for you guys I hope you all have a happy holiday season! Stay safe bookies <3

Until next time, 

TEE <3

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