#really I just need to get laid and that’s the whole thing it’s not about therpist or praise or anything I just need to get fucked

[wish-i-were-heather]

HATE IS A STRONG WORD ⤵ ROHAN X JAMESON HAWTHORNE

ABOUT: 1766 words

STORY: chapters 40-42 of the brothers hawthorne but... different

WARNINGS: none that i can think of

A/N: forgive me 😔🙏 also im getting really uncreative with the titles and just using quotes from the fic my bad guys

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Avery scolded Jameson as they walked. She was holding him up on one side, her arm around his waist, while Zella had him from the other. The latter had made it very clear that she did not want to be there. 

He only shrugged, which made his whole body hurt.

She rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t have raised your hand to fight.”

“But it worked,” Jameson insisted. “The Proprietor, I got his attention. He watched me, and he told Rohan to stay down. Which means-”

“He let you win,” Avery finished for him, her eyes widening. “Which-”

“Gives me a better chance at an entrance to the game, I know.”

“Do you guys always do this whole finishing each other's sentences thing? It’s weird,” Zella interjected. 

Jameson grinned. “What can I say? Great minds think alike.”

“And this mind says no more fighting strangers in foreign countries,” Avery said firmly. 

He didn’t argue back. His mind was half fuzzy anyway. Everything hurt everywhere- there was blood dripping from his temple, bruises littering his entire form. His nose was also bleeding, and he was certain that he’d broken at least three of his ribs. 

But Jameson tried not to let his mind linger on the pain for too long. He focused on staying upright, feeling grateful that he had the two people keeping him that way. He wanted to do more- he needed to get into the game. And today was the last chance he had. 

For now, though, he let them walk him up to an area curtained off, in the Lust section of the Devil’s Mercy. 

He laid down on one of the grand beds, back against the pillows, and took a deep breath. Which, of course, hurt his ribs. 

“We need to clean you up,” Zella began, surprising him. He didn’t think she cared enough. “The Proprietor wouldn’t appreciate you leaving a trail of blood across the Mercy.”

Jameson closed his eyes and let her and Avery do what they had to do. Antiseptics were used, bandages were applied, and each time someone's hand brushed against his injuries, he tried not to flinch.  

It hurt. 

But soon enough, they were finished. He didn’t open his eyes. Avery propped herself next to him, taking his hand in hers. 

“You’re the most reckless Hawthorne,” she told him gently. 

“Have you met-”

“I’ve met all your brothers, Jamie. Rest assured, you are the most reckless.” 

Jameson didn’t argue, and squeezed her hand. Avery moved forward, sitting closer to him on the bed, but still careful of his injuries. 

Their moment was interrupted. 

“Avery,” Zella blurted impatiently. “May we speak?”

Jameson’s eyes snapped open and he frowned. “What do you need to talk to her about?” But she didn’t look at him. The two women held eye contact for a few moments and Jameson struggled to tell if they were having a silent conversation with their facial expressions or if they were just staring.

But then Avery stood up.

“Heiress…” he practically pouted. 

“You’re fine. Just don’t get into any more fights while I’m gone, yeah?”

She gave him a look that promised she would tell him every detail of their conversation, and squeezed his hand one more time before walking out. Zella, of course, also had to give him one final side eye. 

~~

The room was silent and cold. To him it felt like it had been hours since Avery left, but Jameson knew it really could have only been fifteen minutes. But what was there even to talk about?

He closed his eyes again and tried not to focus on the injuries. He was alone now, no one to distract him from his thoughts and the pain that assaulted him with every breath. 

“You’re bleeding on the sheets.”

Jameson opened his eyes, but fell back when he saw who it was. 

Rohan was standing at the entrance, having pushed aside the curtain and staring at him with a certain look in his eye that Jameson didn’t like. He wasn’t shirtless anymore- an observation that surprised him. Instead, he was back in a suit.  

He didn’t even look like he’d just been in a fight. Any injuries were well concealed. 

Jameson suddenly felt self-conscious about the fact that he was sitting there on the bed alone, his face probably half swollen, and a poorly applied bandage being the only thing covering his top half. But he forced himself to look back at Rohan.

“And you care why?”

“I don’t,” Rohan said. He stepped forward, the curtain falling closed behind him. “But you’re making a bloody mess and I quite enjoy being on the Proprietor’s good side.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with me?”

Rohan eyed the bandages. “I’m the one who injured you. It’s my responsibility to… undo that damage.”

“Aw, how gentlemanly.”

“Shut it.”

He walked to the side of the bed, his eyes never leaving Jameson’s. There was something in his expression, something hidden under the layers of indifference. A look of concern, and some other unidentifiable tension that had been between them since the fight.

“You shouldn't have won,” said Rohan. “You’re in no condition to be in the game.”

Jameson scoffed, though it hurt his chest. “Yet you allowed me the victory.”

“I didn’t want to,” Rohan sighed. “But some things are worth sacrificing.”

“Like your dignity?”

“It’s getting really difficult to want to help you, Hawthorne.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Rohan shook his head as his eyes scanned Jameson’s battered body. Some bruises were his doing, while others were the fight he’d won before. Either way, it was clear that whatever first aid was applied earlier was not enough. And Rohan needed to clean any mess, cover his tracks.

That’s the only reason he was there, of course. 

“The pool of blood you’re sitting in says otherwise,” Rohan noted. Jameson rolled his eyes. 

“If you’re so insistent on fixing me,” he told him. “Then go right ahead. Be my guest, Mr. Factorium.”

He narrowed his eyes, but instead of arguing, Rohan stepped forward. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small case. 

“Are we just carrying around first aid kits now?” Jameson laughed. “Is that normal here?”

“Does it hurt you so much to be prepared?” Rohan asked, opening it and from it taking a roll of gauze.

Rohan set it on the bedside table and turned to face Jameson. Without a word, he reached for the edge of the bandages around his abdomen and began to unwrap them. Jameson inhaled sharply. 

He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected to feel Rohan’s cold hands against his unusually warm skin. He hadn’t expected to uncover all the visibly painful injuries. And he most certainly hadn’t expected to let Rohan essentially rid him of covering his top half. 

Nor had he expected Rohan’s eyes to linger there for just a moment too long. 

“The wound wasn’t properly staunched.” The sound of his voice snapped Jameson back to the present. 

He only managed a small “oh” in response.

Rohan’s hands got to work, doing who knew what. Something to stop the bleeding, but Jameson only felt the touch of his fingertips, Rohan’s skin against his own. Pain was brought back every time he put too much pressure on the injured area, but at least that helped him stay awake. 

Maybe he’d lost too much blood, because this was strange. This was wrong. This was… Rohan. Rohan, who thought he was so much better than everyone else. Rohan, who spoke with that stupid accent. Rohan, who was the most insufferable person. 

Rohan, who made it very clear that he hated him.

And that hatred was very mutual. 

Jameson’s breath suddenly hitched as Rohan pressed a little too hard against his broken ribs. He tried not to react, but keeping his body neutral was impossible. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Rohan muttered, his eyes focused on wrapping him up again. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before throwing yourself into a fight.” 

He managed a shrug. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a second thought in my life.”

“Clearly.”

Jameson opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t escape. Rohan’s hands had moved, now finishing wrapping the fresh gauze around his ribs, careful not to press too hard. The touch was surprisingly gentle and it stunned him more than any punch or tackle ever could. 

“Why are you helping me?” He asked finally. Rohan had said it was because of the Proprietor, but he knew it had to be something more. “You hate me.”

Rohan hesitated for half a second. “Hate is a strong word.”

“Is it?” Jameson pressed, ignoring the pain as Rohan tightened the wrappings to keep them in place.

“I can’t say I hate you. I’ve barely met you. You’re simply… very hard to like.”

Jameson furrowed his brow. “Right. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m doing this,” Rohan explained. “Because I don’t want to get in trouble with his lordship.”

“You say that title like he’s the most important man in the world,” Jameson remarked. 

“I don’t think he’d appreciate you talking negatively towards him,” Rohan warned him.

He shrugged again, but this time it hurt. “Negative attention is better than no attention at all.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m a Hawthorne.”

“Same difference.”

Jameson grinned despite the pain. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You take that however you want,” Rohan sighed. His lips tightened into a line as he finished the bandaging. His hands hovered over it for a moment, before stepping back. “There, you’re all patched up.”

“Appreciated,” Jameson said reluctantly. Rohan nodded, recollecting the items into his strange, pocket-sized first aid kit and slipping it back into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Jameson watched, keeping his eyes on every little movement. 

He nodded and began walking out, back to the closed curtain. A small part of Jameson didn’t… didn’t want him to leave? 

But before walking away, Rohan turned around. 

“Hawthorne?”

“I thought we were on a first name basis, Rohan.”

He ignored that comment. 

“Your nose is horribly swollen. You look like a blobfish.”

Jameson lifted an arm and very clearly flipped off the insufferable Brit. He simply flashed him a snarky smile before turning around and leaving. Jameson sighed, leaning back against the pillows again as his mind wandered, questioning what kind of interaction he’d just had.

Though he was confused by how the Factorium was acting, Jameson couldn’t help but smile.

Rohan was a puzzle, one he had every intention of solving

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 wish-i-were-heather

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl

@emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @maybxlle

@xoxo-vee @elysianwayy77 @midiosaamor @sheisntyou

@averyiconthequeen @blocked-zombieartist

[jjkamochoso]

Hii! I definitely don't wait for you to reopen your requests religiously. Anyways, could I request a Feitan x Female Reader again with the personality like all my previous requests where they return to the base after a mission and she's more tired than usual and mindlessly starts ranting to him. They're probably rooming together wherever the troupe is staying this time around and she's just going through her usual night routine while he sits and watches and she slips in how much more comfortable she is around him than anyone else. Just something sweet and simple about how he's her comfort place! Thank you for your time!! ♡

You always have the cutest requests😭🫶❤️ sorry this took a little bit longer than usual but I thank you for your patience and never ending support!! I hope you love this☺️

Mission: Impossibly Handsome

Fluff

Feitan Portor x female reader

Warnings: none

Your entire body ached as you climbed into the backseat of the getaway car that was waiting for you at the curb, courtesy of Phinks. Your energy was absolutely depleted after the Phantom Troupe's mission that had just finished. Your enemies were formidable opponents this time and your nen abilities were really being pushed to the max up until the final battle. Of course, you and your teammates proved victorious at the end, but the whole ordeal had left you totally exhausted.

"You feeling alright?"

You didn't register that the question was for you until Phinks called out again.

"Y/n? You good?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit tired, is all."

You gave him your signature sweet smile to ease his worries which seemed to work since he nodded in understanding and struck up a conversation with Shalnark who was in the passenger seat. As you laid your head against the window and watched the landscape fly past you from the car that was going much faster than the posted speed limit, you sighed, missing the presence of your favorite person. Feitan wasn't assigned to this mission and your irritation at his absence increased tenfold when you thought about how nice it would be to rest your body against his. Knowing you had a long trip back to the base, you closed your eyes as the roar of the car engine lulled you into a dreamless sleep.

When you felt the car roll to a stop, you knew you had made it back to the house that was currently serving as your base. You bounded out of the vehicle without hesitation, barely noticing how the sky had erupted with endless amounts of stars in the time it had taken your team to go back home. It seemed as if the place had been abandoned with the way all of the lights were off and not a soul was to be found. You checked your phone and noticed the time: 3:37 am; that explained why everyone was quiet. You frowned, putting the phone back in your purse and trudging up the stairs to your room. You opened the door and couldn't help the small smile that appeared when you saw that Feitan was still awake, reading by candlelight in your shared room. He looked so peaceful and handsome with his nose buried in a book and you hoped that image of him would be burned in your mind forever.

"What took so long?" he asked, setting the book on the side table.

"We were really far away and unfortunately up against good fighters," you said, closing the door and starting to take off your shoes. You wobbled a bit as you unbuckled the second one, earning a look of concern from the man.

"You hurt?"

"No. Just worn out," you responded, finally out of your shoes and thankful that you wore socks as your feet touched the cold ground. Feitan watched you in silence as you walked about the room, gathering your things from your bag as you laid out everything you needed in your nightly routine. You were so not in the mood to do all of your skincare, but you knew it would help relax you before bed and you needed all the help with that you could get after such a tumultuous day.

"Turn around, please. I'm changing into my pajamas."

Feitan obliged, covering his eyes with his hands for good measure. That made you giggle for the first time all day and you were grateful for the calming effect Feitan had on you by just being himself.

"You look tired," he commented after you had told him he could turn back around.

"There are certain things you don't say to women, Feitan, and that's on the top of the list," you replied in a huff, putting your plush headband on and going into the bathroom across the hall to wash your face. To your surprise, Feitan followed you in there.

He handed you your washcloth to dry your face. "I no mean to offend."

You took the cloth from him and gently dabbed at your skin, not meeting his curious eyes.

"I know. I'm sorry for being snappy, I...had a really hard day."

You both left the bathroom and sat on the bed to apply the rest of your products and Feitan sat across from you, observing you under his intense gaze. You picked up each bottle and sighed in a defeated sort of way that was so out of the ordinary for you that it actually had him worried. You, however, were starting to feel more and more at ease the longer you were in company of the raven haired man in front of you.

"Everything started going wrong this morning," you finally spoke, piquing Feitan's interest since he knew you would dive into what had been bothering you. "My first pair of shoes I was going to wear broke and then I was almost late since my hair wasn't going the way I wanted it to. And don't even get me started on the huge fight. That was the absolute worst because..."

You continued on and on, your venting session seemingly never ceasing. The more you talked, the less weight was on your shoulders and Feitan noticed how you were were looking happier and more relaxed than when you first came back, which, in turn, made him a lot more at ease knowing you were okay.

"...and so I'm just purely exhausted after all of that. I've never been on a mission so physically and mentally taxing. I'm ready for a break," you told him at the end of your mindless rant, your nightly routine long finished. Everything seemed less daunting when Feitan was around; you barely noticed yourself going through the motions of your various skincare steps that you previously thought to be an impossible task.

"I was so relieved when I learned we were rooming together again," you added as you put all of your things away before succumbing to sleep. "You're the person I feel most comfortable around and I really like spending my time with you. I appreciate you listening to all of my complaining and I'm grateful that we're in each others' lives. Sorry to get all sappy, but I just thought I should tell you that. I don't say it as often as I should."

Feitan was grateful for two more things: that your back was to him and that the room was so dark that you couldn't see the blush he was sporting and probably would be for the rest of the night. You expected to hear lots of teasing for your emotionally charged words but all you got in return from Feitan was a tiny scoff. You smiled to yourself, knowing he took what you said to heart, even if he wouldn't admit it to you (or himself) that he felt the same way about you.

"I glad you okay after mission. You rest now," Feitan eventually said, pulling back the bed's covers for you to get comfy under. He was not a caretaker in any sense of the word so you enjoyed being at the receiving end of his shockingly sweet actions--maybe this was how he was showing you that he was most comfortable around you too. No matter the reason, you easily complied with his wishes as you slid under the sheets, more than ready to get restful sleep next to Feitan. He got comfortable on top of the sheets, sitting up with his back against the headboard as he dived back into his previously discarded book.

"Fei," you whispered a few minutes later.

"Hmm?" he questioned, his eyes not leaving the worn out pages.

"I missed you a lot today," you confessed, your tired, sleep deprived mind letting your mouth run wild without inhibition. You snuggled closer to him in your shared bed, wanting to be as near to the man you loved as possible. "We make a great team. I never want to do anything without you again."

Feitan froze when he felt your cheek rest against the side of his thigh. Judging by your steady breaths, you were now either asleep or close to it, and waking you up to move at that point was much too cruel, even for him. He was unsure how to react in that sort of situation, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying the sight and feeling of you touching him so gently. The sensation tugging at his heartstrings was so very new, and so very foreign, and he didn't know why but he never wanted it to stop. He cautiously brought his pale hand down to your other cheek, a featherlight finger barely caressing your skin.

"I go nowhere unless it with you. I promise."

[pollen]

hii it's been awhile since i've given any updates about what's going on with me but!!! i think we're moving back to oregon at some point. and i'm gonna make grad school happen. i'm so yhappy

[milo-is-rambling]

Anyone else got that praise only feels good coming from people who don’t know you thing or is it just me?

[steviescrystals]

ignore this post i’m just whining again

[lavenderspence]

Bump Relief - S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, pregnant reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Making you comfortable while you're pregnant is his number one priority, so he decides to give JJ's little trick a try

Request: maybe Spencer hearing from JJ or reading somewhere that holding the baby bump relieves the mother and decides to try it on his girlfriend/wife? 

A/N: So a few days ago, I asked for short requests because I was dying to write something short. I sat down to write, and it got a little longer than I anticipated(I have no excuse). It's a known fact I can't write anything short, so I don't know why I try. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I really needed the serotonin I get from posting a fic, so enjoy! 

Requests are open for both Spencer & Hotch🫶

Spencer was twirling a pen between his fingers, deep in thought. All of his thoughts were about you because of course they were. 

He thought about you while he fell in love, proposed, and watched you walk down the aisle towards him. You occupied every waking moment when he wasn’t focused on his work, friends and mother, or hobbies. You were a constant in his life, and have been for years. 

But he’d been thinking about you a lot more in the last 6 months, and especially the last few days. About you, and the little angel.

At 34 weeks pregnant, you were glowing from the inside, just as beautiful as you’d been in your wedding dress. Or that’s what Spencer saw when he looked at you. 

But along with all the beauty of growing your little one came the few negatives, some of which he couldn’t help but notice too. How you hadn’t been wearing your wedding rings since the start of your third trimester. 

Or the light sheen of sweat on your brow just going up the stairs to your apartment. Or even the discomfort at the small of your back from carrying all the weight around. The small winces he heard coming from you, along with the scrunch in your eyes and nose. 

He wanted to take a part of your discomfort and bear it as his own. He’d watched you grow this little bean inside you for months, fight the morning sickness, and the only thing he’d been able to do was hold your hair and rub your back, watching as you suffered through it. 

Or the changes in your body, your clothes not fitting, or sometimes feeling like an outsider in your own skin. He’d been able to offer reassuring words, and kisses laid across your whole body, any point that sparked an insecurity in you - worshiped. 

He’d wake up in the middle of the night to satisfy your weird food cravings, or even the desire to have him as a snack. 

He’d been to every appointment with you - held your hand, wiped your tears, or kissed the crown of your head. You’d heard the heartbeat together, where he’d spoken in your ear, thankful to you for giving him the greatest gift of all to come in a few short months - being a dad. Something he’d wished for, for years, sometimes even thinking he’d never get to experience it. 

But that’s as far as he could help you and god, he wished he could do more. 

He didn’t hear JJ approaching and wasn’t even paying attention when she called his name out softly. And then again, and again. 

Snapping her fingers in front of his face worked like a charm though. 

“Yes?” He asked, after a light shake of his head to clear his thoughts. 

“Where’d you go Spence?” She leaned against his desk, giving his shoulder a small squeeze in support, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” He didn’t look or sound convincing, and watching JJ’s brow arch in question, he sighed, “Well, okay, not everything.” 

“What’s going on? Are Y/N and the baby okay?” She asked a frantic worry in her voice.

“They’re good and healthy,” Spencer confirmed, watching her let a sigh of her own. He decided then and there to seek her advice. She was his friend, and seeing as she’d been a mom twice now, she knew exactly what you were going through. 

“She’s been feeling uncomfortable, carrying the weight of the little bean around,” He smiled, simply mentioning his child softened everything within him, “And I see her trying not to show it that much, but it’s clearly exhausting her even more, and I wish there was something I could do to help, you know?” He sounded so small at that moment, rubbing his wedding band, feeling like he was failing you somehow. 

He knew that wasn’t possible, you told him daily how proud you were of him and everything he did and has done for you, but even now, he couldn’t help but worry sometimes. 

“Well, there’s this one thing that worked wonders for me when I was pregnant with Henry, and Michael too.” She started before she shared her little secret.

You breathed in deep, moving around yet again, and then exhaled a long breath. 

Your couch was one of the most comfortable things in the apartment - at least it had been before you’d started popping. Now it felt more like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever, but you knew that was just your inability to get comfortable - well, anywhere really. 

It was a struggle finding a way to feel good, but not like your baby was sitting on your bladder, or putting more pressure on your back than needed. You had roughly 6 more weeks to go, but you already felt about ready to pop. 

Your bean was grown in size - with a tall daddy like your husband, you weren’t even that surprised. You somehow knew that they’d take even more than his height - you hoped they’d inherit his best characteristics too. His love for learning, his calmness, and most of all his heart. Maybe his hair too - you loved his hair. And his smile. God you simply loved him.

You couldn’t wait for him to get home - the only time you felt like your whole body could relax was whenever he was with you, one hand or both thrown over your bump in a protective manner, talking to you and your baby quietly. 

You tried a few more times to get comfortable, a few different positions - leaning on your left, your right, or even with your back straight, and nothing worked.  

Another deep exhale left you and you simply gave up - lying on your back and praying for no uncomfortable sensations for at least a few minutes. 

Just as you felt your eyes droop - you wanted a few minutes to simply breathe - you felt a little kick to your left. It didn’t hurt, luckily for you, your little one seemed to be a pretty calm, small bundle so it wasn’t often any cry for attention left you rattled.

You did let out a little chuckle, rubbing the spot. As you rubbed at your stomach, small kick after small kick under your hand, you heard a key being inserted into the lock - the door opening and closing, keys rattling on the key hanger next to the door. 

“Sweetheart? Where are my girls?” He asked, as you heard the familiar sounds of him hanging his jacket and satchel, and taking off his shoes. You’d decided the gender would be a surprise, but Spencer insisted that it was a girl - you had a feeling he wanted to be a girl dad. 

You raised a hand, waving in the direction of the door, not wishing to move now, “We’re here, love.”

You didn’t attempt to push yourself up, you just stayed where you were, rubbing your belly and waiting for your husband to make his way over. 

Sure enough, just a few seconds later he was kneeling next to the couch close to your head, moving pieces of hair away from your face.

“Hi.” He whispered before he leaned down and laid a series of small kisses all over your face - one on each cheek, one on your forehead and nose, finishing with a gentle press of his lips against yours. It still made a small shiver run through you, just like it always did.

“Hi.” You returned when he pulled away, watching him as he leaned towards your belly then, kissing just next to where your hands were still sitting. A kick followed his kiss like your baby knew it was his daddy having returned from work. 

“Hi, little love.” It was his little nickname for them, and you loved it. You ran a hand through his hair then, soft and thick to the touch. 

With his hand sitting next to yours, wedding band gleaming in the light, he pulled you into another small kiss. His face was inches away from yours. 

“Can you stand up for a second, love?” He was whispering, content in keeping you three in a small bubble of touch and soft words. 

“Why?” It sounded like a whine, but in your defense, everything felt more comfortable than before now that he was there. 

His eyes softened then, understanding written all over his face, and a small smile on his slightly chapped lips too. 

“Just want to try something JJ suggested. Please? It’s going to feel good, I promise.” He kissed your brown in reassurance, and promise. 

You sighed again, allowing him to pull you up. 

“If I hate this, you have to go get me those super sour lemon candies from the candy store on the other side of town, okay?” You bargained with him. You’ve been craving those since last night, but he’d been going out on a limp for your every whim and you wanted to cool it for a day or two and allow him some time to breathe. 

He smiled softly, hand on your lower back, moving up and down. 

“Okay, sour lemon candy it is.”

“What are we doing again?” 

“Okay, I’m going to settle behind you, and I want you to lean your upper body against me, lay your head on my shoulder,” He instructed, moving behind you, hands on your hips just like he’d told you to do. His scent filled your nostrils, and you moved your head to the side to nuzzle his neck. He kissed your head, “Okay, now relax, and let me do all the work, yeah?” Again, soft, in a whisper. 

“What work -” You started before you felt his hands settle underneath your bump, holding onto it, and allowing the weight to fall on his hands instead of falling on you. You felt light like you were no longer carrying your little bean, but instead, it was safely nestled into his father’s arms. A half sigh-half moan left you, so relieved,  thankful in that moment, to JJ and to your husband. 

“Good?” He asked. Tears gathered in your eyes, so overwhelmed by the reprieve. You nodded, just a tiny bit choked up at that moment. 

“So, so good. Thank you.” You said, one hand moving to cup gently around his, face once again burying into his neck. You couldn’t believe the universe had granted you this man to be by your side for years to come. This dedicated, adorable, kindhearted man, and all his care. 

He rubbed his thumb against your bump, feeling your little girl kick against him, and he kissed your hair, holding you both, doing his very best to help in any way he could. Just like he always would. 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[teamatsumu]

purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

[babyleostuff]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: (sleepy)idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 867

⦗💌 ⦘ sleepy choi seungcheol means many things - dramatic, adorable, and very kissable

“and then he straight up left the room,” seungcheol said and nuzzled his head further up your neck, sighing happily as your nails scratched his scalp in all of the right places. “i swear he’s so dramatic sometimes.” 

you hummed in acknowledgment, and brushed your lips over his forehead. “i know someone who’s even more dramatic than seungkwan, y’know?” you smiled at him, the corner of your lips almost reaching your eyes upon seeing your boyfriend’s adorably confused expression.

god, his big eyes and pouty lips would be the death of you someday. 

“who?” he asked, and laid his head against your shoulder. 

you crooked your eyebrow at him, and shook your head in amusement. “it’s cute how you don’t see it. if i had a penny for everytime you were being dramatic i’d be a millionaire now.” 

“i’m not-” 

“yes you are, baby.” 

seungcheol huffed annoyed and peeled himself off you, taking his warmth with him and leaving you shivering like a leaf. he kneeled next to you, and crossed his arms, looking like an angry five year old. cute. “i’m not. give me one instance when i was being dramatic, hm?”.

“i love you so much, choi seungcheol. you’re so adorable.”

if you had to pick your favourite version of your boyfriend the sleepy version would be top three, no questions asked. the hair that was sticking in all possible directions from your scratches, the doe eyes, glossy with sleep looking at you and begging for a hug, strong body that usually made you weak in your knees clad in a cherry pyjama… 

all of this, and now him kneeling next to you, insisting on his life that he was not being dramatic. 

“i love you too, but baby,” he whined, dropping his head to your lap, “i’m not dramatic.” 

“sure, then what would you call what you’re doing now?” 

your boyfriend shook his head, making an even bigger mess of his hair. “you’re so mean sometimes,” he said, as he looked up at you. “i don’t like it. give me my girlfriend back.” 

you rolled your eyes at him. that’s exactly what you meant - one look from him, and you were already regretting all of the thighs you said. 

“okay, okay,” you caved in, and maybe that was for the better, because as much as you loved your pouty boyfriend, you appreciated the smile on his face even more. and now with him winning the “argument” he probably wouldn’t stop smiling even in his sleep. 

not dramatic my ass. 

“you’re such a simp,” he giggled, and threw his whole body back on yours, knocking all air out of your lungs. 

if you had at least one percent chance of pushing this big koala off you, you’d immediately send him flying, but there was no way you could move more than his little toe. but, there was another deadly weapon you could use against him. 

“sure, then no cuddles for you tomorrow. and say goodbye to kissing me,” you said, looking him straight in the eye, just to show him how serious you were about it, and with how quickly his smile disappeared from his face, your mission at getting back at your boyfriend was accomplished. 

“no, no,” he said, gripping your waist tighter, “i was just joking.” 

“sure.” 

“no, i’m really sorry, i,” seungcheol, now panicking, gently angled your head downwards, so he could reach your lips, “please don’t be mad,” he said and ghosted his soft lips over yours. “if you’re a simp then i don’t know what to call myself.” 

you rolled your eyes, but… well, that was very much true. “just kiss me, choi seungcheol,” you breathed, and chased his lips as he pulled his head away from you. 

“under one condition.” 

“huh?” you asked, dizzy from the need to be even closer to him. 

“don't call me that,” he stated, and finally crashed his lips against yours, depriving you from the remains of air that you had. 

you always joked that cheol had this amazing ability to put you to sleep just by one kiss, and he always argued that that was insane and impossible, but… maybe it was the warmth of his arms, maybe it was the safety that his embrace provided, maybe it was his smell that screamed “home” - whatever it was, your joke wasn’t that far from the truth. 

you didn’t realise, though, that you seemed to have a similar effect on him, because when you pulled away, your boyfriend's eyes were even sleepier than before, and his permanent pout was poutier than usual. 

“oh, and there’s one more thing that happened during practice today,” he yawned, and rubbed his eyes, “soonyoung and seokmin-,”.

“why don’t you tell me about it tomorrow?” you kissed his brow, as you felt his head getting heavier and heavier on your shoulder. “let’s sleep for now and talk tomorrow, hm?” 

with his last remains of energy seungcheol nodded, and sunk further under the covers, pulling you with him. it didn’t seem that he was feeling particularly big-spoony tonight, so you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, and kissed the top of his head. 

“night, baby,” you whispered into the darkness.

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[bookishdreamer28]

You and Mattheo were laying on the couch inside the common room, with no one else around but just the two of you since you skipped another class today.

Mattheo had your body cradled in his arms, as he softly ran his fingers through your hair. He was watching you in admiration as you read your book and he felt his stomach flipping as you looked up at him to give him one of your tooth-rooting smiles, a warm light reflecting in your eyes. It was still unbelievable to him how he got so lucky to have someone like you, loving him the way you do and making him the happiest he could ever be.

The light from the fireplace was hitting your face just right. So beautiful Mattheo thought to himself as he kept his gaze on you, feeling so hypnotized by you.

No words were needed, because just the way you looked at each other alone, was enough to understand what and how the other was feeling. You moved up a little and captured his lips into a love filled kiss, which Mattheo melt into the kiss and hum with satisfaction. After a while, you pulled away and when you looked at each other, you let out a small laugh which made Mattheo's smiled wider.

"Gosh you're so beautiful" he whispered and kissed you again, with more passion. When you were done with your make out session, you just stayed there, snuggled up closer to each other and enjoyed each other's company.

"You know at some point we should tell them" you murmured against his neck and turned to look at him.

"You kidding? They'll start tormenting us about not telling them and they won't Ever, leave us alone again. And trust me the last thing I want, is to want to have my moments with my gorgeous girl, and having the guys eavesdropping"

He placed a kiss on your forehead and laid back as he looked at you with a smirk. You shook your head as you laughed and laid your head on his chest.

"I love these secret moments together. We don't need anyone else to know. Now that I finally have you, I want to cherish you every minute of the day" you giggled as he laid you now on your back and he got on top of you.

He kissed you hungrily and his hand traveled up to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. You softly moaned as he bite your lip and you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, pressing him closer to your body.

You suddenly heard a weird thudding sound coming from outside and you stopped kissing. He looked at the door and then down ar you.

"Whoever it is they'll leave. I can't stop now" he growled and was about to kiss you again but this time the sound was a bit louder.

"Who ever the fuck is out there you better get lost or else-" The door opened and slammed on the wall by the impact, and two bodies were laying on the ground.

"What. The fuck?" You and Mattheo said and two heads looked up at you.

"Annoying presences? Do you really find us annoying?" Theodore aksed with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, were you eavesdropping the whole time?"

"I wouldn't call it eavesdrop-"

"Oh shut it " Mattheo said to Enzo and then turned to you ready to kiss you again but then he noticed how Theodore and Enzo hadn't left from the room yet.

"You're not going to watch me kiss my girlfriend pricks" Mattheo angrily said to them and the boys hurriedly stood up and just left the room.

"Well that was easy-"

"And just so you're know we're not annoying. Y/N loves me" Enzo's face appeared behind the door and smirked at you.

"Berkshire you have one second-"and before Mattheo could finish the sentence, Enzo was already gone.

You laughed and Mattheo turned his head to you when he heard the joyful sound, smiling too.

"And now, where were we?" He leaned down and started trailing deep kisses along the nape of your neck, making you forget about everything.

💚 🙌

[logansdoll]

I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one

-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.

Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james

I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good

I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.

contingency

running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.

'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'

With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.

Why couldn't he just remember?

He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.

But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.

Something crucial.

"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."

Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.

"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"

Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.

In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this man—confused as to why he seemed so familiar.

"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."

A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.

"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."

"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.

Not knowing was tearing him apart.

Who was (y/n)?

What were you to him?

And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?

All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.

Though, somehow—through his fit of blind frustration—he managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:

CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.

"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.

He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.

'Fuck it.'

Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.

He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.

Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.

Yet he knew he wasn't.

He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.

For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostile—and if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.

Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.

He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.

EXPERIMENT 25-8 a.k.a Weapon X Contingency

Name: (y/n) (l/n) Age: Unknown Sex: Female Height: X" X Weight: X Rank: Class 5 Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found. Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.

"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.

So home-like.

Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.

Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.

And there you were right before him—unconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.

Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.

"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."

"No..."

"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.

He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Well?" you asked, nervous.

"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."

"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.

"I can't..."

"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."

"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.

"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"

Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.

"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.

"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.

"She can't..."

"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."

Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.

"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.

"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."

He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.

"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.

"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"

He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."

"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.

How could he have ever forgotten you?

Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.

Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.

He could remember so clearly now.

You were his world—his reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.

No matter how bad things got—angry, frustrating, or lonely—you were there.

You were his escape, his safety, his peace.

Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.

Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.

With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.

Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.

He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.

After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.

The softness of your cheeks.

The kindness of your eyes.

The plumpness of your lips.

Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.

Logan couldn't find the words.

The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.

"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.

That's right!

James!

His name was James!

"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's me—"

You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.

"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.

Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.

"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"

"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"

He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.

"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.

"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"

Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.

'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'

Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.

"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"

In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.

"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.

"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.

Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.

"She's my wife..."

bonus !!

"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"

[smileysuh]

ghostie

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.  You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy

Sunday 

You pause your movie when your phone rings and you look down at the screen. The number is unknown, and you briefly consider not even answering it. However, you’ve had two job interviews in the past week, and you don’t want to miss any opportunities, so with a sigh, you bring your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny, how’s your night going?”

Definitely not a prospective employer. Your sorority gave you the name Tiny during first year, something to do with the ‘tiny’ shots you always want to take, and only those within the Greek system use it on you. On top of the Greek-specific term of endearment, the man on the other end of the line is using a voice modulator of some sort, and it makes it impossible for you to identify him.

Your curiosity is sparked. 

“Who is this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You sigh, leaning back against your bed and setting your laptop to the side. “I get that Scream is having a comeback, but this whole ‘calling a girl and being mysterious’ thing won’t get you laid anytime soon.”

“Are you sure about that?” You can hear a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.

“If you’re not going to tell me who you are, I’ll hang up.”

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” There’s a pause then, “Let’s just say, a mutual friend gave me your number. They thought we’d hit it off.”

“Whoever this ungendered mutual friend is, I doubt they expected you to call me with a voice modulator and act out a Ghost Face fantasy. I get that Halloween is a week away, but come on… you can’t be serious about this.” 

“I am serious. Come on Tiny, live a little.” 

“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mister Ghost Face.” 

“I’ve got good reason to be, trust me on that.”

You let out a deep sigh, going through your roster of men who might think this sort of thing would be funny. “Yunho? Is this you getting high again?” 

“Wrong frat, but good guess. I didn’t know Alpha Tappa Zeta’s star quarterback was a stoner, thanks for the info, Tiny.” 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself. You hadn’t meant to throw Yunho under the bus like that.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone about his… habits. That would be hypocritical of me.”

You search your mind for the stoners you know. Ones who would have the balls to call you like this. 

“Do you want to take another guess? I’ll give you three chances. You have two more.”

Aside from ATZ, you spend a lot of time with Sigma Veta Tau. Soonyoung is a well-known blunt roller in the fraternity system, but he wouldn’t do a charade like this. He’s very open about hitting on you any time you’re at one of his parties. 

“Jeonghan?” you ask.

“Last guess, Tiny.” 

He doesn’t confirm or deny if you’ve gotten the frat right, but you can’t really see any other SVT members who would fit this mysterious man’s profile. 

Your mind wanders to Nu Chi Theta. They’ve got quite a few weed lovers there, and you’ve been invited into many closed-room smoke sessions with the dirty NCT boys. 

There’s Yuta, and he’d definitely have the gall to entertain a flirtation like this. However, you don’t know of any mutual friends who would ever set you up with him. With another sigh of irritation, you throw out the last name on your shortlist of stoner acquaintances. 

“Hyuck? Please tell me this isn’t you.”

“Close but no cigar.” 

“I don’t like this game.”

“You’re not supposed to like it, but it is entertaining, don’t you think?”

“What’s your angle with all of this?” you question. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, then what’s the point of calling?”

The line is silent for a few moments. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you a little, is that so bad?”

Your heart softens, if only momentarily. “Then grow some balls and ask me out like a real man.”

“Where would be the fun in that?” The mystery man lets out a short chuckle, and your irritation only grows. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?”

“A few times actually.”

“Well, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I haven’t even met you.”

“Yes, you have.”

“God, I’m tired of this. Goodnight.” 

You don’t even wait for an answer, you simply hang up.

Despite trying to get back to your movie, you can’t get the mystery man out of your head. When you go to bed you can’t even sleep, your mind completely full of all the possibilities of who your caller could have been. 

You’ll have to do some digging tomorrow. You can’t not figure out who this guy is- and you know just the fratboy to give you all the details you could need.

Monday

Mark Lee is always fifteen minutes early, even when it comes to an 8am class. You feel like shit after tossing and turning all night, so when you slide into the seat next to him in the back of the class, he gives you a once over and his lips part in shock.

“Are you okay?”

“No, Mark, I’m not okay,” you snap, regretting it a moment later- after all, Mark’s not the one doing this to you. “Someone called me from an unknown number last night. A frat guy, I’m not sure who. He was using this voice modulator-”

“That sounds hella sketchy.”

“Super sketchy,” you agree. 

“I know it’s October and everything, but that’s a weird way to hit on a girl.”

“That’s what I said!” Mark always understands you. “He said a mutual friend gave him my number, thought we’d be cute together or something- whoever it was, I need to strangle them.”

“Is this friend a girl or a guy?”

“Mystery man wouldn’t tell me,” you groan.

“So… this dude could be literally anyone.”

“Not Yunho from Alpha Tappa Zeta, Jeonghan from Sigma Veta Tau, and not your roommate Hyuck. The guy gave me three guesses,” you explain, “the hint is that he’s a stoner.”  

“Lots of frat guys are stoners.”

“Exactly,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat. 

“What are you going to do if he calls you again?” Mark asks. “This kind of feels like stalker behavior.”

“It does,” you admit. “But at the same time, he calls me Tiny, and he says we’ve met before- when I asked what he even got out of the phonecall he said he just wanted to ‘talk to me a little,’ which, I don’t know, for some reason I feel like he’s not a stalker.” 

Mark gives you a look that says ‘You’re crazy,’ and after listening to everything that just spewed out of your own mouth, maybe you kind of agree with him.

 “So if he calls you again…” Mark reasks his earlier question, one you’d chosen to ignore.

But you can’t ignore it now, and you let out a deep breath.

“If he calls again… We’ll see what happens.”

“Tiny-”

“Mark,” you counter, knowing he’s about to chastise you. But you don’t want to hear it. If even he doesn’t have any idea of who your mystery caller could be, you simply can’t give up. If you never find out who this ‘Ghost Face’ dude is, you’ll feel unsolved for the rest of your life and you know it.

“Look, I’ll ask around a little,” Mark concedes.

You let out a squeal of delight, throwing your arms around your closet fratboy friend. He lets out a chuckle, gently squeezing you back. 

Mark’s a good guy. 

If only you were into good guys and not sleazy stoners calling you while getting a hard-on for being Ghost Face.

Monday pt 2

It’s nine o'clock and you’re starting to get tired while you study. You’re in need of a distraction, so when your phone rings with an unknown number, your heart practically jumps into your throat.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny.”

“Wow, Mister Ghost Face,” you laugh, twirling in your spinny chair, “two nights in a row. You must really like me, huh?”

The laugh he lets out sounds genuine, even though his voice is obscured still. For some reason, the noise makes you grin, and you can’t believe you’re actually kind of having fun with this.

“I do like you,” the mystery man confirms. “Tell me about your day.”

“Tell you about my day?” You’re in shock.

“Uh huh.”

“No teasing or nothing? No three guesses about your identity?” 

“I’ll tell you what,” he lets out a sigh, “like you said, Halloween is in a week. If you keep letting me call you until then, I’ll reveal myself when you come to the party.”

“The party?” you repeat. “You make it sound like there’s only one frat party on Halloween.”

“Only one worth going to.”

“Is that so?” He’s so cocky- why does that turn you on? 

“Yup. In fact, I know you agree with me on this, because the past two Halloweens, you’ve come to my frat.” 

Your body freezes. He’s just given you a massive hint-

“So you’re an NCT boy?”

“Wouldn’t call myself a boy, and neither would you if you saw what's in my pants.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, not sure how to even respond to the suggestive comment he’s just made. 

The man on the other end of the line lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’m two blunts deep. I should watch what I say to you, that's why I asked about your day.”

“You don’t have to- watch what you say, I mean.”

“Yeah?” You can almost picture him leaning back in a chair, a large half-chub growing in his pants- “Are you getting horny from a mystery man on your phone? Dirty girl.”

“Dirty guy,” you counter, “trying to entice me by saying your dick is big.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I’m intrigued,” you admit, “but not only because of your cock.”

“It’s a nice cock.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you about my day,” you sidestep. “Had an early class with Mark Lee, you must know Mark.”

“Of course.”

“Well, he has no clue who you could be.”

“You talked about me.” 

You can hear him smiling. 

“I bet you couldn’t even sleep last night. Too busy trying to figure out who I am.”

Okay, maybe he is a bit of a stalker. Or maybe he just knows you well… who the fuck is this guy?

“Stop being so cocky,” you insist.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” 

“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”

“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?” 

“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”

“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”

“Are you really that interested in my day?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”

He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined. 

You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.

“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”

“They were good cupcakes.” 

“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”

“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”

You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.

“Did we talk?”

“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”

Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.

“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.

“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”

This guy makes you feel such conflicting emotions, you’re not sure how to even handle him.

“Look, I was studying when you called-”

“Right, you should get back to that.”

“I should.”

“Sleep tight, Tiny. It’s been nice talking to you.”

Part of you wants to return the sentiment, it feels second nature, but the words stop on your tongue. In all fairness, it hasn’t been particularly nice talking to the mystery Ghost Face guy. 

Instead of saying anything else, you simply hit him with a “Bye,” and you hang up the phone.

However, you don’t get back to studying, you immediately call Mark.

He sounds groggy as he says “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I just got a call from that guy again. He’s definitely one of your frat brothers, and he’s high right now.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Mark sighs. “We sort of uh… all got high at the fire after dinner.”

“Mark Lee!” you screech.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mark groans. “I’ll uh… ask around some more. We’ll figure out who this dude is.”

“And if we don’t… he said he’d tell me who he is at your frat Halloween bash at the end of the week.” 

It’s Monday now, and the party is on Saturday. That means you’ll only have to wait a few days… you can hold out for a few days… can’t you?

Tuesday

You read over the email a third time, but it doesn’t make anything better. The words ‘We regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for the position’ make your eyes begin to well with tears.

Quickly exiting your phone, you grab your things. You refuse to cry in the middle of the library-

The bathroom will have to do the trick, and you hurry to get there, holding back the choked sob that longs to slip out of you.

You’d thought for sure this interview would land you a job on campus. The interview had gone well, or so you’d thought.

You don’t even know why you’re getting so upset about this. 

There’s just something so devastating about rejection. 

You get to the bathroom quickly, shutting yourself into a stall before you allow the tears to fall again. You cradle your face in your hands, allowing the sadness to overwhelm you.

It’s important to have a good cry every now and again, and you definitely need this.

Your cries, however, are interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Wiping at your face, you reach for the device, lifting it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Are you okay?” 

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ghost-” you groan, closing your eyes at the familiar voice-modulated sound.

“You do have time,” he insists. “Tell me what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just saw you running through the library. Looked like you were crying.”

“I wasn’t crying!” you nearly yell. 

“Liar. Come on, Tiny, let Ghostie make you feel better.”

The affectionate-sounding nickname prompts you to wipe your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”

“I was in the library, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Was?”

“I’m gone now, can’t have you figuring out who I am before Halloween.”

“Would it really be so bad if I did?” you question. “It would make me feel better.”

“Look at you, using your bad experience to try to swindle me,” you hear him laugh, and there are more sounds now, as if he’s walking across campus. “Seriously, Tiny, tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you always walk around campus with a voice modulator?”

“It’s an app on my phone babe, now answer my question.” 

“You didn’t ask a question, you commanded me to tell you what happened, and I’m not taking commands right now.”

He sighs. “Will you please tell me what’s making you cry?”

Your lower lip trembles. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing that hurts you is stupid.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“It looked like you needed a friend.”

“You’re not my friend. You’re some guy who got my number and gets hard by pretending to be Ghost Face from Scream.”

“I could be your friend. Could be more than your friend. And I’m not hard right now. Not after seeing you cry.” 

You take a breath. “I applied for a job and I uh… they didn’t hire me.”

“Then they’re stupid.”

“Maybe I’m stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m a girl who’s spent three days talking to a guy who keeps his identity a secret, and for some crazy reason, you’re actually making me feel better. That definitely makes me stupid.”

“No, it makes you soft. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Yeah?” you sniffle. “What else? And don’t say my ass in blue jeans.”

The man chuckles. “You’re soft, and kind. But you’re a fighter too. You’ve got a spark. Don’t even get me started on how smart you are-”

“And how would you know how smart I am?”

“For starters, you’re in the top-scoring sorority on campus,” he points out. “Whenever you come to trivia night, you wipe the floor with all of us. Mark talks constantly about how much you help him with his classes, which brings me to my next point, you care about charity. That’s a great sign of your character.” 

“You do know a lot about me, don’t you, Ghostie?” His words have stopped your tears, and you cradle your phone close to your ear. 

“Still not a stalker though.”

Now he even has you laughing. “Jury’s still out on that one.”

“You sound better already,” he muses. “Mark has a free block right now, I’m sure if you call him he’d take you for ice cream or something to distract you.”

“That’s a good idea,” you admit.

“I’m full of good ideas.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Tiny.”

Tuesday pt 2

“This guy sounds like a full-on stalker,” Mark says for the sixth time as you grab ice cream and sit inside while a storm passes, rain splattering the windows.

“I mean, if he knew your schedule, I’m guessing he’s someone close to you.”

“He’s stalking us both, I don’t like it.”

“But he’s nice.”

“He’s stalking you, Tiny!” 

“He’s not!” you insist. “A lot of people were at the library today… honestly, I think… I think Ghostie is kind of sweet.”

“Ghostie?!” Mark stares at you in shock. “You’re calling him Ghostie now?”

“It’s cute, right?”

“It’s crazy is what it is!” Mark leans back in his seat, frowning. “This is giving me the creeps.”

“Well, it’s spooky season.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t think any of my frat brothers would pull crazy shit like this. They’re mostly pretty chill dudes.”

“So you think he’s lying about being in NCT?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

“I think he’s definitely lying,” Mark confirms.

“Well, agree to disagree.”

Mark studies you for a moment. “Look, the only guy who’s a freak like this is Yuta and he swore up and down to me yesterday that he’s not calling you with a fucking voice modulator.” 

“I don’t think this is Yuta.”

“Because you’re a Ghostie expert now, huh?” He scoffs loudly.

“Yuta’s not really a stoner,” you point out. “And besides, I can’t explain why I know it’s not him, I just have a feeling.”

“Yeah, is that feeling in your pussy by any chance?” 

“Mark Lee!” you gasp, scandalized by his choice of words. 

“Be real with me!” he insists. “You wouldn’t be entertaining this if it wasn’t… I don’t know, turning you on? Are you turned on by stalkers? Is this why you like Halloween so much?”

“Okay, maybe I am turned on, but that doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“It just makes you crazy,” Mark groans, running a hand through his hair. “I swear to God, when the dude reveals himself at the frat party, it better be one of my frat brothers and not a serial killer. And also, I’m going to fight him.”

“Something tells me he’d beat you,” you giggle.

“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad.”

“Says the guy who just called me crazy.” You grin, knowing that you’ve won.

“This whole thing is crazy.”

He has a point about that.

Wednesday

You’ve been waiting all day for a call from Ghostie, and it comes right before you’re about to head to bed. You practically launch yourself at your phone, putting it on speaker and saying “Hello?” as if you don’t know who’s on the other end of the line.

“Hey you, feeling better today?”

“You tell me, mister stalker.”

“I haven’t actually seen you today, it was a bit of a shame if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah?” God, this man has way too much power over you. “And why’s that, Ghostie?”

“Because I’ve been looking at your Instagram, but you’re cuter in person.”

“Do you follow me?” 

“We’re mutuals.” 

You’re mutuals with pretty much the entire NCT frat, it would have been more helpful if he’d said he’s not a follower, although, now that you think of it, that had always been unlikely. 

“Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you, Tiny?”

“Of course.”

“Remember when I was listing your good qualities? Patience wasn’t one of them.” 

“That’s so rude of you,” you say, although, you’re grinning at your phone.

“Here, I’ll make it better. I have an idea for you.”

“Let’s hear it then.” You get comfortable on your bed, wondering what he’s about to say.

“If you want a job, there’s this bar on campus, Skeets. Have you heard of it?”

“Who hasn’t heard of Skeets?” You roll your eyes. 

“They let just about anyone work there. A few of the NCT guys are bartenders, I’m sure they’d put a good word in for you with the hiring manager, he’s also a member of the frat.” 

You haven’t been to Skeets in ages, and you try to remember who you know amongst the staff. “Wait, you’re right- doesn’t Hyuck work there?”

“He does… This is the second time you’ve mentioned him, got something of a crush, Tiny?”

“Would that make you jealous?” you tease.

“I’m not the jealous type,” he states. “But yeah… it would.”

“Don’t get your Ghost Face mask in a knot, I don’t have a crush on Hyuck. In fact, if you turn out to be Hyuck and I find out you lied to me about your identity, I’m going to be really mad.” 

“I’m not Hyuck.”

“Good.” You consider his proposition for a moment. “Do you really think they’d hire me?”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”

“You know, on Sunday, if someone had told me you’d be helping me find a job not three days later, I would have said they were crazy.”

“Guess I like to keep you on your toes.”

“I think you just have a major soft spot for me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I can’t. I promised not to lie to you.” 

God, he makes you so giddy it’s insane. 

“Are you going to come stalk me at Skeets if they give me a job?”

“Goodnight, Tiny.” He’s avoiding the question, and you can hear him grinning through the phone.

“Night, Ghostie.”

It’s the first time he’s the one to hang up on you, and it leaves you wanting more.

Thursday

Ghostie had assured you that Skeets hires just about anyone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety building inside of you as you prepare to take your resume into the bar. 

You even do a Wonderwoman pose outside while waiting for Skeets to open, breathing deeply to psych yourself up while you go over possible interview questions just in case the hiring manager wants a chit-chat today.

“I love working in a team environment,” you say quietly to yourself, closing your eyes and running through responses. “The most important thing is that the guests feel welcome.”

The sound of something dragging across the cement ground has you practically jumping, lids flashing open as your head whips toward the noise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your mantra,” the tall fratboy laughs, setting up the wooden sign with the daily drink menu just in front of the door to the bar.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing thickly. 

The man in front of you is Johnny Suh. He’s two years older than you, and you know him through Mark. When guys join a frat, they’re assigned a ‘Big,’ an elder frat brother to guide them through the process. Johnny is Mark’s big, and he’s always been nice to you whenever you’ve crossed paths.

You would call Johnny an acquaintance, not a friend, but he’s still a friendlier face than you may have expected to see upon your first moments interacting with Skeets staff. 

“You coming inside, Tiny?” Johnny asks.

“Yeah, sorry John, one sec, I just need another deep breath.” You wave your hand at him, turning your back and gulping down air while you hold your bag tight to your front, the resume within practically burning a hole in the leather.

The hot fratboy heads back inside and you finish calming yourself down. 

You can do this. You can get this job.

As you enter the bar that’s just open, you realize there are only a few staff members kicking around so far. Kim Jungwoo is rearranging chairs, and Lee Donghyuck is sitting on a table looking at his phone. Johnny Suh is behind the bar, and you decide you should probably talk to him, so you try to act confident as you walk through the small establishment.

Johnny’s brown eyes raise as you approach, and he offers you a small smile. “Tough day?”

“What?” You blink at him, settling against the bartop.

“You looked kind of off outside, and most people don’t come in to day-drink this early.”

“Oh, uh… I’m not here to day-drink.” You let out a tiny laugh. “Actually, I came to see if you guys were looking to hire new staff members, I brought my resume.”

You reach into your bag to pull out the papers, and you hand them over to Johnny.

His eyes scan the first sheet. “Wow, a cover letter, I’ve actually never seen one of these.”

People don’t apply with cover letters? The idea is kind of shocking to you.

Johnny hardly looks at your resume, setting it down in front of him to address you instead. “What makes you want to work at Skeets?”

“In all honesty, I need a job. I’m dependable, and I’ve got a decent schedule to work in the food service industry. I like working as part of a team, and I’m already friends with a lot of the staff here, so I thought it might be a good fit.”

Johnny nods, assessing you. “Have you bartended before?”

“I’ve got my qualifications to serve alcohol, but I’ve mostly had waitressing jobs,” you admit.

“At Skeets, we all do a bit of everything. Would you be open to learning how to mix drinks?”

“I’d be very open to it,” you nod. 

“Then let’s give it a shot,” Johnny smiles warmly at you. “You’ve got good timing, we actually just had to let go of someone for excessive drinking on the job. I was going to put a wanted ad up today, but looks like that won’t be necessary.”

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, “are you serious? I’m hired?”

“Yeah, why not?” 

You can’t help the squeal of delight that rushes through you, and a massive grin makes its way onto your face. You even jump a little, and Johnny seems to enjoy your excitement, smiling from ear to ear while you celebrate. 

“When can you start?” he asks next.

“I can start tomorrow! I mean, if you need me that soon.”

“Tomorrow is a big night here at Skeets, the Friday before Halloween. We could use the hands, but it will be a busy one, do you think you can handle that?”

You’re quick to nod. “Of course. But I uh… I should let you know, I can’t work Halloween, I promised a friend I’d meet them at your frat for the party.”

“Don’t worry about Saturday,” Johnny assures you. “Sigma Veta Tau has their frat party tonight, so it’s all us NCT guys working, and tomorrow we’ll switch. As much as Seungcheol is a good comanager, I don’t trust him to teach you how to mix drinks on Halloween.”

“So… you’re going to be the main person training me then?” you ask.

“If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” he confirms. 

You can’t help but beam up at the tall frat boy, overjoyed at this turn of events. As cute as Johnny is though, part of you is excited to tell Ghostie about this when he inevitably calls you tonight. 

Your life is definitely a little crazy.

“So, how about you come in tomorrow at seven?” Johnny suggests. “The bar will be open past midnight, but I figure I can show you a few things before it gets busy around ten, and then I can let you go early.”

“I’ll be here at seven.”

“And when it comes to what you’re wearing, we’ll give you a Skeets t-shirt,” he pulls at the black fabric stretched tight across his broad chest. “Other than that, you can wear any color of jeans and some sneakers.”

“Perfect.”

“You’ll be paid for the training shift, I’ll tip you out in cash, and if it goes well, we’ll get your banking details at your next shift after that,” Johnny explains. “I’ve got your number here on your resume, so I’ll be in contact with you on Sunday, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a dream.” You literally can’t stop smiling.

“Tiny’s going to learn to mix,” Johnny says fondly, “Mark’s going to love this.”

You already feel close to Mark’s big, and the opportunity to work with him is a good one. Johnny is one of the more well-known nice guys at the frat. Sure, he’s got a little bit of a dangerous edge to him, just based on his massive stature alone, but he’s generally a big softy bear. 

“Thanks again for this, Johnny,” you beam. “I won’t let you down.”

Thursday pt 2

“Hyuck said our favorite Tiny sorority princess got herself a job today.” 

“Hello to you too, Ghostie.”

“I wanted to cut to the chase and congratulate you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you,” you admit. “So… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” your mystery man says, and you can hear that classic grin of his. “I’m sure you got it on your own merit.”

“Apparently no one’s ever brought a cover letter with their resume before.”

“They must have been impressed.” 

“Hired me on the spot.”

“That’s my girl.” 

Your insides flutter. You like the way it sounds when he calls you his girl. “How about your day, Ghostie? Stalk any new girls?”

He laughs. “Only one girl worth stalking, which, I don’t do, by the way.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“My day was long,” he says finally.

“Yeah, it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking about going to sleep but…”

“But you wanted me to call,” Ghostie finishes your sentence for you.

“When you say it like that it sounds kind of depressing.”

“It’s not depressing, Tiny, it’s cute.”

“Cute?” 

“I like that you’re getting used to me.”

“You know… if you decided not to show up to the Halloween party- if you never called again, I think… I’d wonder who you are the rest of my life.” It’s a moment of vulnerability, and your heart races in your chest while you wait for his response. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tiny,” Ghostie promises. “I’ll find you on Saturday, and not in a stalker way.”

“What costume are you going to be wearing?” 

“If I tell you, you’ll just show up and scour the whole place looking for me.”

“You know me too well, don’t you, Ghostie?”

“What are you going to wear, pretty girl?”

You literally kick your feet at the term of endearment, body buzzing. It takes a moment to collect yourself. “Honestly? I’ve got a Ghost Face mask hanging around somewhere.”

“And here I was being told I’m the one who gets hard pretending to be Ghost Face.” 

“Well… even though I don’t know you, not really, I think I got that one pretty accurate, didn’t I?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I thought you said you were big,” you tease.

“Okay, maybe a lot.”

You bite at your lip. After the great day you’ve had, it’s difficult not to feel flirty. “Are you hard right now, big guy?”

He groans, and even under the voice modulator, something tells you the sounds he makes are sexy as fuck. You can feel your panties getting wet. It’s dirty, but in the best possible way.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.

“You’re being bad, Tiny.”

“Says the guy who’s literally hard right now.”

The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“What if… when we meet, you’re not interested in me?”

Well, this has just taken a turn. How did you go from horny thoughts to insecurity? 

It’s a valid question though, one you should have asked yourself by now, but for some reason you haven’t. You think about it for a few seconds. 

“I feel like… I know it’s been less than a week of talking but, you’re not like any other guy I’ve ever met. And not just because you’re calling with a voice modulator.” You let out a laugh. “You ask how my day is, and you care to hear my answer. You even helped me get a job, which is crazy to think about. For some weird reason, I think when I meet you, the emotional connection is already kind of there, so no matter what you look like, you’ll be more attractive to me.”

“You really think so?” 

“I mean, NCT is known for having hot guys, so I’m not sure who you could be that would turn me off. There are only a few NCT guys I’d say a hard no to at the moment.”

“Yeah? Who?” 

“Well, Doyoung and I have never gotten along, but I know you’re not him because he doesn’t touch weed. I dated Jeno for about a week, and I know enough about him to know I don’t want to do anything with him ever again, and also, that you’re not Jeno because he’d never ask me how my day was going-”

“What an asshole.”

You laugh. “All things considered, Ghostie, I think you’ll do just fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Is this why you’ve been doing the whole voice modulator thing? You’re worried I won’t be interested in you?”

“It’s one of the reasons,” Ghostie admits. “I also worried that if I did hit on you, you might think I was only trying to get you into my bed, which, yeah, it would be nice, but… as perfect as your body is, it’s not the most interesting thing about you.”

What a scrumptious take; A guy calling you up and using anonymity to prove to you that this connection isn’t only about sex. 

Your heart softens.

“Ghostie, you might be one of the sweetest guys I know,” you admit.

“More than your best friend Mark Lee?”

You laugh. “Maybe not, Mark would never do something like this. You’re a bit of a paradox that way, aren’t you?”

“If you say so, Tiny. As much as I’ve liked this talk, I think I should let you sleep. Halloween is two days away and I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to do before then.”

“What if I don’t want you to go just yet?”

“Then I’d remind you that patience is a virtue.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Good thing we have an emotional connection so you’ll forgive me for it. Night, Tiny.”

“Night, Ghostie.” 

Friday 

Your first shift consists of shadowing Johnny. He’s a fabulous teacher. He’s calm, patient, and very encouraging. The first few hours are a breeze, but the bar gets increasingly packed as the night goes on.

It’s a little overwhelming, but Johnny helps keep you steady. He gives you the easy drink orders, things like beer and simple cocktails. While you’re filling a cup from the beer tap, he’s busy mixing five to ten different things into one glass for items on the Halloween special menu.

There’s something sexy about a diligent worker, and his beefy arms are all bulgy and hot in his tight Skeets shirt. You can tell that a lot of girls come up to the bar specifically to order from him. There are two other bartenders, but Johnny’s line is notably the longest.

You’ve had your own share of interested men pop over to say hi. There are very few frat boys here tonight, as there’s a party in full swing in the Greek village, so most of the guys coming up to grab a beer from you are people you don’t know.

Many of them are dressed up in costumes, and it’s interesting to try to guess some of the more obscure clothing choices.

Anytime you see a man in a ghost costume, your mind shifts to your mystery caller. You wonder if he’ll pop by tonight- but other than the men already working with you, no NCT boys walk through the front door. 

No Ghostie.

There’s not one second of reprieve, but staff need breaks, and finally, just before midnight, Johnny pulls you both for a breather. 

“Are you sure the others can keep up while we’re gone?” you ask, looking back at the swamped bartenders.

“They can manage,” he assures you, guiding you through the back staffroom to a door that leads to an alleyway behind the bar. “I know I’ve kept you on longer than I thought, but it’s just been so busy. How are you holding up?”

The cool night air is a drastic difference from the heat and humidity inside, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and enjoying it. “I’m doing alright,” you tell him. “You’re the one making the difficult drinks.”

“I’ve been mixing cocktails for years,” he brushes it off, reaching into his back pocket. 

“Well, it shows.” You watch to see him pull out a rolled joint, and next comes a lighter.

“Want some?” he asks, lifting the joint to slot between his perfect lips. 

“Are we allowed to smoke on the job?” 

“Hyuck was prescribed Vyvanse last year, so he’s practically on coke all shift,” Johnny grins, lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff. “Besides,” he lets out a deep breath of smoke, “in the service industry, sometimes you need a little buffer.”

Skeets really is a chill place if the hiring manager smokes weed on breaks with subordinates. 

“I didn’t realize you were a stoner,” you muse.

“Most of us frat boys are,” Johnny admits, pulling the joint from between his lips. It’s placed casually between two fingers, and his other hand ruffles through his pretty hair. “It’s a nice night.”

“It is,” you nod, looking up at the sky. Stars are twinkling in the dark

“I’m glad you joined the team, not sure we would have been doing so well without your extra set of hands.”

“I’m really grateful to have been given a trial shift,” you smile softly.

“Well, just so you know, it’s more than a trial shift. You’re hired.” He nudges your shoulder gently, and your grin only grows.

“Thank you.”

Johnny takes another drag from his joint. “Sure you don’t want a puff?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“I’m going to let you go home pretty soon after this,” Johnny tells you. “So it won’t affect your performance that much.”

You wonder if this is a test, but… at the same time, you don’t think Johnny’s the type of guy to test you this way. 

You give in, accepting the joint and bringing it to your lips. It’s been a while since you smoked one of these, and your first tiny hit leaves you coughing, passing the joint back to Johnny while you try to catch your breath.

He grins while watching you, and you get the sneaking suspicion that Johnny thinks you’re cute. 

“Thank you,” you say, coughing again.

“You’ve got good manners, don’t ya, Tiny?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that have formed in your eyes from the smoke. 

“Who... who do you usually smoke with?” you ask.

“Why? You a cop?” Johnny jokes.

“No, it’s just uh… God, I could tell you the whole story but you wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” you find yourself laughing. “Just… I didn’t know you smoked, so, I’m wondering if maybe there are a few other guys in your circle who do too.”

Johnny looks you up and down. “Like I said earlier, Tiny, almost all us frat boys partake in mari-ju-ana.”

It’s clear he’s not going to give you any information that could help you figure out who your Ghostie is. You suppose you really will just have to be patient.

In less than twenty-four hours, you’ll be finding out who your mystery caller is, and the suspense is absolutely killing you.

Friday pt 2

It’s twelve thirty when you finally get home, and you’re very tired. But at the same time, you’re awake. You take your time getting ready for bed, ignoring the loud party sounds outside and around the frat village while you wait for a call from Ghostie.

As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call.

He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. 

You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. 

Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut.

You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

You try to self-soothe by assuring yourself you’ll meet him tomorrow, but it doesn’t really help. 

Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, you fall into a blissless sleep.

Saturday 

You’re groggy when you open your eyes, but you still go to check your phone. There’s a missed call notification from an unknown number at three am, and suddenly you’re wide awake, bolting up in bed.

“Hey, Tiny, it’s me.”

As if it could be anyone else.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you last night. I was pretty swamped with Halloween stuff. But if it makes you feel any better, you were definitely on my mind.”

Here you are kicking your feet again.

“Probably won’t get a chance to talk to you until the party, I really do hope you come… in uh… more ways than one.”

God, he makes you wet.

“I get it if you’re a little mad at me for not calling earlier, and I promise to make it up to you when I see you, if you’ll let me.”

He’s so oddly respectful.

“But I get it if you don’t want to do anything at the party. I’ve enjoyed talking with you this week, and if that’s all it’s going to be then I won’t hold it against you. Anyways, goodnight, see you soon.”

Saturday pt 2

You feel cute tonight. You’d taken your Ghost Face mask off almost as soon as entering the frat, but the little black dress you’re wearing is enough to capture a lot of attention. 

Every frat boy that comes up to you makes your heart race, but none of them reveal themselves as your Ghostie. 

You’re actually beginning to get a little frustrated, and after two hours of floating around hoping to find your mystery man, you head with Mark to his room for a break.

Mark’s roommate, Hyuck, is sitting on his bed, bong already out and resting on one thigh while scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you enter, smirking. “Finally, smoking buddies.”

“You texted me like two minutes ago to come up here,” Mark rolls his eyes. “Have some patience.”

“Not in my nature,” Hyuck insists, setting his phone down and reaching for his lighter. “First hit is mine.”

As if you expected anything less. 

You watch him inhale the thick cloud of smoke, holding it for a moment in his lungs before he lets out a deep exhale. “Fucking hell, he groans, that was a good hit.” 

Mark takes the bong and Hyuck falls flat against the bed, closing his eyes and smiling.

“So have you found your stalker yet, Tiny?” Hyuck asks.

Your gaze flashes to Mark. “You told him?”

“He was curious why I was asking for a stoner list,” Mark defends himself. 

“Whoever the dude is, he’s got balls,” Hyuck says wistfully. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Jaehyun pokes his head inside. “Heard we’re smoking?”

“Yeah, come in!” Hyuck waves his hand, still collapsed on his bed.

The door is pushed open wider, and you catch sight of Johnny standing behind Jaehyun. Your new hiring manager flashes you a wink as they enter, and the door is shut firmly behind them. Jaehyun goes to sit with Hyuck, but Johnny approaches you, taking the seat next to you on Mark’s bed. 

“How’s your night going?” Johnny asks.

“She’s waiting for her stalker to come kidnap her and fuck her brains out,” Hyuck says loudly.

“Your stalker?” Johnny laughs.

“Some guy has been calling her all week,” Mark tries to explain.

“It sounds worse than it is,” you insist, feeling the need to defend Ghostie. “He’s only a little perverted.” 

“And you’re into that sort of thing?” Jaehyun questions, cocking his head while Mark takes a puff from the bong and hands it over.

“Not usually,” you admit. “But… this guy is different.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mark groans, collapsing in his desk chair and running an anxious hand through his hair.

“That doesn’t matter,” you insist. 

“Fucking girls, dude,” Hyuck laughs, sitting up and watching Jaehyun smoke from the bong. “You know what we need?”

“More weed?” Mark suggests.

“Yes, but also, shots.” Hyuck’s eyes shift to Johnny. “Not the shit from downstairs. The good stuff.”

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “You want something from my secret stash?”

“The tequila you brought back from Mexico,” Hyuck nods.

Jaehyun lets out a puff of smoke, holding the bong out for Johnny, who shakes his head. 

“You’re not taking a hit?” Jaehyun asks, staring at Johnny in hazy shock.

“Not tonight,” Johnny responds. Then he turns to you. “If neither of us are taking a crack at the bong, how about you come help me grab the tequila?”

“Careful, John,” Hyuck teases, “She’s not interested in you, she only has eyes for this Ghostie dude.”

Mark shoves Hyuck’s knee and Johnny simply grins. “Come on Tiny, you don’t want to get secondhand high on a night like this.”

He’s right about that, and you stand with him, heading to the door. Johnny’s so tall and broad, and you try not to stare at his shoulders, but it’s extremely difficult not to appreciate his large form. 

“What’s your costume?” you ask. 

“Oh, this?” He pulls casually at his black tshirt. “I’m a serial killer, they look like everyone else.”

“Very original,” you laugh, falling into step with the tall fratboy as you make your way down the crowded hall. 

“My room is on the top floor,” he tells you, heading to the stairwell and holding the door open for you. “I like your dress, by the way.”

“Thanks, it goes with this.” You hold up the Ghost Face mask to show it to him, and his grin widens while you climb the stairs.

“You’re gonna have to let me try that on.”

“I’m uh… I’m actually saving it for Ghostie to try,” you admit, feeling a little silly with how loyal you’re being to your mystery caller.

“He’s a lucky guy,” Johnny muses.

“Here’s to hoping it goes well,” you sigh.

Johnny doesn’t respond to your comment, and as you reach the top floor he guides you three rooms down, using a key to unlock the door before he holds it open for you. “After you, Tiny.”

The space is the same size as Hyuck and Mark’s, but it only has one bed. “I didn’t realize they had single rooms here,” you say, looking around. 

“There’s only a few, and I’ve got seniority,” Johnny explains. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the large closet. 

You take in the decorations. It’s unmistakably a frat boy's room, but much cleaner than you’re used to. There’s a gaming station, and a mini fridge that you’d guess is full of beer. A clothing rack shows off some of Johnny’s more sophisticated tastes. 

You’re curious about what else he has in his stash, so you join him by the closet, peeking inside. “We’re looking for tequila right?”

God, he has a whole shelf full of expensive bottles of booze. 

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “Should be in the back here somewhere.”

“Isn’t this tequila?” you ask, pointing to a bottle he’s brushed past.

“Close,” Johnny flashes a grin at you before continuing to rummage, “but no cigar.” 

You freeze. 

It’s been nearly a week since your first interaction with Ghostie, but you remember that interesting turn of phrase like it was yesterday. 

But- it can’t be. 

Johnny can’t be your mystery caller-

Can he?

“Found it,” Johnny announces, pulling an immaculate bottle of tequila out. His gaze lands on you. “You alright, Tiny? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I mean… have I?” 

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…” You swallow thickly. “Are you my Ghostie?”

Johnny meets your gaze with a steady look. “Does it upset you?”

It’s not a clear confirmation, but it’s a confirmation nonetheless. 

You stare at him in absolute shock for a moment. He looks insanely gorgeous tonight, all broad, with his pretty lips- without even knowing what you’re doing, you find yourself throwing your arms around him and burying your face against his chest.

Johnny freezes, obviously startled by the sudden contact, but then he’s wrapping you in a tight embrace. One of his hands finds the back of your head, and he cradles you close.

Neither of you say anything, you simply hold each other while you come to terms with everything. 

He’s so stupid for ever thinking you wouldn’t want him-

You do want him. You want him so bad-

Pulling away from his chest, you tilt your chip up, reaching for his face. You cup his cheek while you move on your tiptoes to press your lips against his.

He appears just as shocked at this movement as when you’d hugged him, but he eases into it all the same, kissing you back gently.

But you don’t want gentle, you want him.

You’re pent up from a week of teasing, and you shift in his embrace, wrapping both arms around the back of his neck while you glide your tongue against his lip. 

Johnny lets out a groan, his mouth opening for you while his hands slip down to tug your waist closer.

The kiss deepens and now it’s your turn to release a moan, pressing your tits closer to his chest. He feels like heaven against you, and his lips are absolutely magic. His tongue glides gently against your own. You can taste beer, but it’s not unpleasant, in fact, it turns you on even more.

You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp-

“Fuck,” Johnny mutters against your mouth.

Then he’s bending down, hands grabbing at your ass and prompting you to jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and he carries you effortlessly, closing the distance to his bed.

Instead of tossing you down, he sits on the mattress and suddenly your knees are digging into his charcoal duvet. You’re on top, fingers in his hair, your tongue licking at his lip, and you’ve never felt so powerful.

It gives you the confidence to wiggle your hips a little, and you’re pleased to find he’s already growing hard in his jeans. God, he feels big- and your pussy throbs at the idea of what you’re going to do to him tonight.

You’re in a dress, and your panty-clad core feels delightful against bulging denim. Johnny’s grabbing at your bare thigh, kneading your flesh, and it makes you moan desperately. Not only is he skilled with his tongue, but his hands seem to know what they’re doing too.

Suddenly he’s grabbing at your hair, tugging you so you arch your head back, giving him access to your throat. His mouth feels amazing as he begins to lick and suck on your neck, finding your sweet spot way too easily-

“Who-” You swallow thickly. “Who gave you my number?”

Johnny laughs against your skin, pulling away to look up at you with dark eyes. “Mark did.”

“Mark?!” You’re in absolute shock now. 

“Gave it to me during finals last year,” Johnny explains. “But… we both had busy summers and…” one of his hands sneaks down to guide your hips, helping you grind against him, “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.” 

“You’re crazy!” 

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “I’m also Mark’s big, and it’s not like you and I have ever been close.”

“But you’ve liked me for a while, haven’t you, Ghostie?” 

He groans at the nickname, looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. “Longer than you know.”

You wish you could say you’ve felt the same- but in all honesty, you have always seen him as Mark’s big. As an older fratboy dad type-

The way he’s acted with you this week has inklings of that protective daddy personality you know and enjoy, but… he’s not been particularly dad-like. He’s shown you a new side of himself, and you’re so fucking happy he did.

“You know, when Mark finds out you’re my stalker he’s going to flip.”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Johnny insists, grinning up at you as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you grind against him harder. 

“God, you even hired me for a job-”

He laughs. “It wasn’t favoritism, you had a cover letter, the bar owner was even impressed.”

“You’re so bad- this whole time you’ve been mind fucking me. I would have never guessed my Ghostie worked at Skeets.”

“Well, I do have a minor in psychology,” he admits. “Figured the best place to hide is in plain sight.”

“You even smoked a joint in front of me and I never guessed-”

“Yeah, I was playing with fire with that one,” Johnny laughs. 

“It’s funny. I was so busy thinking about being loyal to Ghostie that I was trying not to check you out last night.” 

“And I’m so lucky to have you. You wouldn’t even let me put on your Ghost Face mask, so busy saving it for Ghostie.”

“Saving myself too,” you note, grinning down at him.

“Yeah?” 

“We’ve talked every night since Sunday- I haven’t cum in over a week.” 

“Fuck, Tiny,” Johnny groans. “I guess I better help you out then.”

“Really? How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll let you stay on top for a while, let you grind against me until you’re begging for me to tear your dress off.” He pulls at the strap on your shoulder. “Then, I’ll flip you over, get on my knees, and eat you out like the good girl you are, stretching you open with my fingers.”

“And then?”

“When you’re shaking and delirious from cumming, I’ll fuck you right. Bet you’ve never really been fucked right before.”

God, you definitely haven’t. At least- you know you’ve never been fucked the way Johnny is about to fuck you.

“What if I already want you to tear my dress off?” you ask, grinding down against his cock.

Johnny lets out a low groan, grinning at you. “Tiny, you’re nowhere near begging yet.”

“I’m not?” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat before your teeth drag against his earlobe. “Please, Ghostie, I’m already so fucking wet, you wouldn’t believe it-”

He laughs, hand finding your hair again. He tugs you away from his neck, pressing his lips to your own and kissing you hard.

He takes your breath away. His tongue is perfect, licking and tasting- making you moan loudly while you work your hips, swiveling on his denim-covered cock.

“Fuck, Ghostie, you’re so fucking big-”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promises, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing so hard it almost hurts. But the pain is wonderful, and you cry out in ecstasy, working yourself harder against him.

If it wasn’t for his enticing cock, you think you could make out with him like this forever. 

You just want to be naked, so you grab at your dress, intent on lifting it off-

Johnny stops you. “I’ve told you patience is a virtue, haven’t I, Tiny?”

You groan in annoyance. “John, please-”

“Ghostie,” he corrects you.

You don’t even care- you simply grab his hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingertips brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp at the feeling of him, immediately grinding down, looking for relief.

“Fuck-” you moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

He begins to circle your clit through your thong and you’re forced to grab at his shoulder to steady yourself, whimpering loudly. 

“Shit, Tiny, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers.

“I need you,” you gasp, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Please, move my panties to the side-”

Johnny doesn’t question you this time. He pulls your thong away, easily burying two large fingers into your wet, needy core.

Now you’re really gasping. You lean forward, wrapping both arms around his strong shoulders and burying your face against his throat. “Oh my God, Ghostie- don’t stop-”

“You’re going to cum from this, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

You nod desperately, swiveling your hips so your clit can rub against the palm of his hand while his fingers work you open. 

“So good,” you whimper. “So fucking good-”

Johnny groans, curving his fingers and stroking your gspot.

You squeal in his lap, thigh muscles clenching while your pussy begins to throb around the foreign intrusions. You’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Want you to cum for me. Wanna hear your sounds while you drip down my hand.” 

Fuck, he’s way too sexy, voice all low and seductive. He’s breathing hard, and you can tell you’re turning him on just from riding his fingers-

“Come on, Tiny, who’s my good girl?”

“I am-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you straight on. 

You moan loudly, burying your face against Johnny’s neck. You’re panting against his skin, wiggling your hips while his fingers continue inside of you, driving you absolutely insane. Waves of pleasure are overtaking your form, and your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy that Johnny provides for you.

“That’s it,” Johnny encourages you. “So fucking good for me.”

You’re shaking on his lap by the time your high is over, and you press wet kisses to his throat, earning groans from your Ghostie. 

You reach down for your dress, lifting it up and off your body. Johnny pulls back, watching you with dark eyes. He takes his fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to his lips to clean. But he’s not done there, as you toss the fabric to the floor, Johnny offers you his digits next. 

You lock eyes with him for a moment before leaning forward and accepting, taking his wet fingers into your mouth and helping suck them clean. You groa at the taste of yourself. Johnny watches the motion, his free hand finding your hip and forcing you to grind down against his cock. 

“You’re so hot, Tiny,” he says, removing his fingers from your lips.

“Wait till you see me naked,” you grin, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra. 

It falls away easily, and Johnny’s large hands cup your breasts almost immediately. His head dips, eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. “Fuck, how does a girl get this perfect?”

“How does a guy get a massive cock like yours?” you counter, rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans. 

“Touche,” he chuckles, leaning down to lick your nipple. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to show more affection to your chest, which he’s more than happy to do. His large hand cups your right breast while he worships your other with his mouth, suckling on your nipple. His teeth drag gently against the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, rocking your hips all the while.

“As much as I’d love to keep sucking on your tits,” Johnny sighs, lips moving up your throat again, “I’d rather be between your legs.”

“Ghostie, do whatever you want to me,” you instruct, feeling delightfully submissive.

“You got it, Tiny.” 

In one easy motion, he flips you so your back is on the bed. Johnny pulls away from you, sinking to his knees at the edge of the mattress before grabbing you and tugging you closer. He tears his own shirt off, giving you a great view of muscles that make you even wetter. Then he grabs your panties, sliding them down your legs so you’re completely bare for him now.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, he simply licks his lips and dives into you. His tongue parts your folds, dipping inside to taste your walls while your legs shake around his head. “Fuck, Ghostie-”

You reach down to grab his hair, applying enough pressure to his head to let him know you’re enjoying what he’s doing… if he can’t already tell from your desperately needy moans. 

His lips move to suction on your clit and a squeal escapes you, your back arching slightly at the sensation. 

You’re sensitive from having cum already, sensitive from having not cum all week only to be getting this much attention now. But you’re also probably sensitive because this is Johnny, because there’s been a build-up that’s left you ready to pop, and he seems intent on making you pop multiple times for him.

“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensing with effort as his skilled tongue works you up again. 

Johnny groans against your pussy and it’s one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to you. Your grip on his hair tightens, your core throbbing with pleasure already.

When he adds two fingers into your dripping hole, you know you’re not going to last, but you don’t think he wants you to.

In fact, you’d bet that Johnny himself is just about ready to explode. You can’t believe he doesn’t have his cock out yet- can’t believe he’s so intent on making you cum twice before getting any satisfaction for himself.

“Fuck, Ghostie-” You want to tell him how close you are to cumming, but you can hardly get the words out between your moans. “I’m- holy shit-”

Johnny finger fucks you even harder, his mouth focusing on your clit, and you’re pretty sure he’s understood your garbled attempt to warn him, pretty sure he wants you to cum.

You allow yourself to find your release, your back arching again as you tug on Johnny’s hair, keeping his face between your legs. You grind down slightly, your body chasing your orgasm as it surges through you like fire in your veins.

Johnny lets out a low groan again, and your entire body twitches at the extra stimulation. You’re gasping now. Nothing has ever felt this good-

To his credit, Johnny tries to help you through your entire orgasm, but he pulls away before you’re truly finished. You can feel him panting against your pussy, and when you open your eyes to look down at him, you find Johnny staring at you with the horniest expression you’ve ever seen on a man.

“Ghostie-” you whimper, shifting against his duvet. 

“Condoms,” he says, pulling his fingers out of your core and standing up.

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him quickly, making him freeze. “And if we’re both clean-”

Johnny practically moans at the idea, looking down at your body. “Does my Tiny want to be filled up all nice and good?”

Now it’s your turn to groan, and you nod, licking your lips. You sit up next, feeling your skin heat at the words you want to say, “I also… I wanna suck you off first.”

Johnny approaches the bed again, towering over you. It’s hard to focus on his eyes when his abs and strong biceps and veiny forearms are drawing your attention, but when he cups your jaw it makes things easier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You pretty much stalked me for a week,” you tease, grinning.

Your Ghostie lets out a laugh. He doesn’t bother to check you on the word ‘stalking’ this time, even though he’s always been adamant that’s not what he was up to. It’s nice to have this little win, and as a reward for him biting his tongue, you reach out to undo his belt.

As the buckle unclasps and you move to his zipper, there’s a loud banging on the door.

Johnny looks over his shoulder and you can hear Hyuck screaming “Tequila!” 

The frat boy in front of you lifts his finger to his lips, a shushing motion, and then he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. You bet he’s going to text Hyuck some lie about not being in the room, but you’re too horny to slow down.

You get his jeans undone and you bundle your hands up in all the fabric, roughly tugging them down.

Johnny lets out a groan when his large cock slaps up against his abdomen, and he moves his phone to the side to give himself a better view, holding it with one hand while raising a brow at you.

You’re on your knees at the foot of the bed now while Johnny stands there, and you steady yourself, grabbing the base of his cock. With one last wink at Ghostie, you lean forward, kitten licking his length from balls to tip.

The man above you quickly types in the text, then tosses his phone to the side, his large hand coming down to cup your cheek. You take this as a sign to accept him into your mouth, so you do exactly that.

He’s so large and thick- you haven’t sucked cock in a while, and you’ve never sucked a cock as big as his. You know you can take your time, Johnny’s always been patient with you. 

You start by paying attention to the head, swirling your tongue around him and getting used to his size. Your eyes close, mind focused completely on your task. You’re already drooling from this, and you can feel your saliva dripping down his shaft. You smooth your thumb along the new trail of spit, helping lube your hand so you can begin to pump his cock.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, tightening his grip in your hair.

You try to sink your mouth further onto his cock, but it’s difficult. He’s just so huge-

Your pussy throbs knowing that soon, this monster dick is going to be inside of you-

Without any lube that you’ve seen so far, you want to make him as slicked up as possible, and it helps that you’re drooling from how sexy all of this is.

His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, powering through the uncomfortable feeling as you glide your tongue along his shaft. You’re not a quitter.

“Holy fuck, Tiny-” Johnny praises you. “You don’t have to try to take more than you can handle-”

But you want to. You want to pleasure him the way he’s pleasured you, and his words only prompt you to suck harder, earning more groans from the man above you.

“You’re so good at this,” he continues his words of encouragement, and they do help you take him deeper. His voice is smooth, sexy, and thankfully not modulated in any way. 

You’ve never realized how nice John’s voice really is. 

You apply more pressure with your hand, pumping him faster-

“Okay, okay-” Johnny tugs gently on your hair, prompting you to pull off of his cock and blink up at him in confusion. “I have to fuck you now. I’m done waiting.” 

You let out a tiny mewl, nodding. 

Johnny kicks off his jeans completely, pressing a knee onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you, and then he’s grabbing your body. In one easy motion, he tosses you a few feet up the mattress, so your head can land against the pillows.

God, he makes you feel truly Tiny- it’s one of the sexiest things ever.

He takes his place between your legs next, lips finding yours. One of his hands cups your cheek, and the kiss deepens, his tongue invading your mouth while your arms wrap around his strong shoulders.

You can feel his cock sliding between your pussy lips, and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how much drool you’ve left on him. 

“Please-” you whimper. You can’t wait another moment either, you have to know what he feels like. You reach your hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock so you can line him up with you properly. “Ghostie, I can’t-”

He kisses you, cutting you off. Something tells you Johnny understands, and the moment you have him properly situated, he begins to push into you.

You gasp against his lips, letting go of his cock so you can grab his shoulders. He’d worked you open with his fingers two times over, but nothing compares to this. You can feel your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth, and it leaves you practically brain-dead.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Johnny tells you, lips moving to your throat so he can suck on your sweet spot while he continues to burry into your hot, wet core.

You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, closing your eyes while the feeling of him overtakes you. You’ve never moaned like this before, never felt anything like Johnny-

He groans loudly against your skin, gently thrusting, coating his cock in your juices to make things easier-

The moment his hips hit flush to yours, his full cock buried inside of you, you both gasp. Johnny grabs at your hands, interlocking your fingers and pinning them to the pillows on either side of your head.

“Fuck, you’re so big, you’re so-” You can’t even think, especially not when he takes another test thrust.

His cock drags against your inner walls and you cry out, body tingling. 

“You take me so well, Tiny,” he praises you, mouth still hot on your throat. “The perfect fit.” 

You can’t speak, not now, but you can squeeze his hands and tilt your head to the side, kissing his cheek. Johnny takes the cue to bring his lips back to yours, and you’re immediately lost in yet another breathtaking makeout session.

He’s moving slow, fucking into you at a gentle pace, allowing your body to get used to his massive size. 

But you’re feeling particularly desperate, and greedy. “More.” 

“More?” He laughs. “You sure about that?”

You nod, eager to be decimated by him. “Please, ruin me-”

Johnny groans, letting go of one of your hands so he can press his palm flat to the bed, giving himself more leverage. He begins to fuck you faster, and each meeting of his cock to your core has you whimpering like a whore in heat.

“You make the cutest fucking sounds,” Johnny breathes.

Only he - with his cock making you feral - would call your noises of pleasure cute.

He’s so stupidly endearing.

“Fuck, Tiny, you’re dripping- making this too fucking easy for me.” 

It’s absolutely embarrassing how wet you are. He’s gliding into you with no issues now, and each movement is like heaven. The head of his cock hits a spot deep in your stomach- you can’t help but reach down, pressing your palm to your abdomen-

You can feel him rearranging your guts, and you both groan when you apply a bit of pressure.

“Deep, huh?” Johnny lets out a moaned chuckle. 

“So deep-” you agree, words slightly garbled. 

“I’ve just started with you and you can hardly speak,” Johnny muses. “Wonder what’s gonna happen when I make you cum again.”

You cry out desperately, removing your hand from your stomach so you can claw at his hair, bringing his lips back to your own.

You’re tired of thinking- all you want to do is experience this, experience him, at your fullest- and boy, are you fucking full.

Johnny lets go of your other hand, reaching for your thigh. He adjusts it higher on his hip and suddenly he’s driving into you even deeper.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you gasp loudly against his lips. Johnny traces his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him smirking.

You love that he’s enjoying this- enjoying watching you come completely undone for him.

“You know,” he says, “if you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long.”

You don’t even care. You know this isn’t the only time you’ll be fucking this man- and after cumming twice already, your body is near its limit of pleasure, if that’s even possible. In fact, there’s something very sexy about making a man cum quicker than he’s used to, and your pussy clenches at the thought. 

“Fuck,” Johnny groans again. “Can I flip you over?”

At this point, you’ll agree to any request, and you nod quickly, biting at your lip.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls away from you. His cock slips out of your core and you whine at  the loss, only for his two large hands to grab your waist and manually turn you onto your stomach. Then he adjusts your hips, pulling you up into doggy position.

“If you need to scream, use the pillows,” Johnny warns you, lining up with your pussy again.

The first thrust has you doing exactly that. You bury your face into the pillow, letting out a loud cry as his cock hits deeper than before. 

This position might just kill you, but you don’t care.

His hands feel so good- so large and warm and steady on your hips as he finds an even rougher pace.

You can hear your ass smacking loudly against his front with each thrust and it only adds to your arousal. 

Bunching your hands up in his duvet, you do your best not to be so loud that the whole frat will hear you. But it’s so difficult not to just melt under him- 

You can feel your eyes welling with pleasure-fueled tears, and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck, you like this position, don’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Ghostie!” you gasp, nodding while his cock continues to make you feel like absolute heaven.

“You look fucking perfect like this,” he tells you. “Face down, ass up. Pretty soon you’ll be begging for me to fill you up even more.”

His words flip a switch inside of you. “God, yes, please-” you cry out. “I want it so bad-”

“Want what?”

“Want your cum,” you whimper. “Wanna be so full-”

Johnny groans, grabbing rough fistfuls of your ass while he fucks you even harder. 

“I need it, Ghostie, I need it-” You’re crying now, and Johnny notices.

He bends over your back, bracing an arm across your chest so he can lift you onto your knees. He cups your jaw, thumb stroking through a tear track. “Holy shit, Tiny,” he moans, mouth hot against your shoulder. 

“Please, Ghostie, please-” you whimper, lower lip trembling-

You’re so close-

Johnny lets go of your jaw, and his hand slips down your front. You jolt when his fingers make contact with your clit, wriggling in his grasp.

“I’m almost there, Tiny,” he admits. “Watching you cum will tip me over the edge- you’ll be good and cum for me, right?”

All you can do is nod. Words are gone. Your mind is blank except for the pleasure that’s coursing through you.

Your noises are getting pitchier, and Johnny works you all the way to your peak. You gasp loudly as you topple over the edge, core clamping down hard on his cock.

Your legs feel like jelly, and Johnny releases you, allowing you to fall to the bed while your orgasm ravages your form. You’re clawing at the sheets, burying your face in his bed to muffle your screams-

His hands are bruising on your hips, and you hear him let out a loud groan. You can feel him filling you up, his motions faltering ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your shoulders and it’s added stimulus that makes you twitch, so completely overwhelmed that it almost feels like you’re about to black out.

But you don’t want to miss a second of this. His groans of pleasure keep you in the moment even as your mind is in a sex daze. 

Johnny rides you through your high, thrusts slowing until he comes to a stop behind you. 

You’re both breathing heavily now, and Johnny stays still for a moment, enjoying the last of your orgasm aftershocks. Then he flattens his chest to your back, hand falling to the bed next to  your own. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. 

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and it makes Johnny groan as your core clenches again.

He kisses your shoulder, lips oddly tender in comparison to the way he just blew your back out. 

“Ghostie-” you whimper, wanting to collapse on his bed from exhaustion. 

“Stay still, I’ll get something to clean you up,” he assures you, pressing one last kiss to your skin before straightening from your back. 

You miss his warmth as soon as he’s gone, and you especially miss his cock when it slides out of you. 

You feel him get off the bed, and a moment later, something begins to drip down your inner thighs. He really filled you up, and it makes you twitch. You reach a hand between your legs, cupping your core and rolling onto your back on his bed, trying to breathe properly.

Johnny is back a second later, and you can feel his gaze on you.

“Spread these thighs for me, Tiny,” he says gently, touching your knee. 

You open your eyes, and then you open your legs. 

Johnny moves your hand out of the way, letting out a groan. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is-” he tells you, wiping your core clean of his cum. 

You still don’t have it within yourself to speak, you can only watch him toss the tissue in the garbage before you’re making grabby hands at him.

Johnny laughs. He sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the headboard before scooping you into his lap. He’s so fucking big, and he makes you feel safe cuddled in his arms, your cheek pressed to his chest.

His heart is still racing, and it makes you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’s so affected by this.

Johnny’s fingers begin to thread through your hair, and he simply holds you while you come out of subspace. 

The party is still in full swing outside, and it’s an interesting feeling to have such a private moment with Johnny in the middle of a frat on Halloween. 

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you ask finally.

Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly. 

You pull away from his chest, looking up at him. His hand moves to cup your face and you press your lips to his. It’s a much gentler kiss than he’d given you mid-fuck, and it eases your racing heart. 

“Ghostie?”

“Yeah, Tiny?” 

“I like you a lot.”

He lets out another chuckle. “I like you too.”

“We’ll do this again sometime, right?”

“Of course, Tiny.” His hand smooths up and down your back. “I’d also like to take you on dates, if you’ll let me.”

“I’d like that,” you nod, relaxing against his chest again. “And… and when you call me, no more voice modulator.”

“No?”

“I like your voice, your real voice.” God, you’re feeling so soft and mushy for him.

“I like your voice too.” For a second, it’s a sweet moment, and then Johnny continues, “Liked listening to your whimpers.”

He’s such a frat boy, but you kind of love him for it. “Did you like my tears too?”

“Only if they’re for a good reason,” Johnny says. “If anyone else ever makes you cry, I’ll have to fuck them up.”

“My protective Ghostie,” you grin, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“As much as I’d love to stay cuddling you forever, I should probably bring the boys some tequila,” Johnny sighs.

“The boys,” you echo. “I feel like I’ve just fucked Mark and Hyuck’s dad.”

“Do you have a daddy kink, Tiny?”

“For you, I have any kink you want,” you laugh. 

“I like the sound of that.”

“Just… kiss me again?” you ask. “We can bring tequila after.”

“Are you sure you want to come with? You can stay here and I’ll come back-”

“We should…” you lick your lips, “we should be social.”

“I just fucked your brains out and you want to go be social?” Johnny grins. “Maybe I didn’t work you over well enough.”

“You worked me over perfect,” you laugh, grabbing at his jaw so you can press your lips to his.

Johnny melts into the kiss, and there’s something in it that feels like coming home. You’ve never felt this safe with a guy before, and it’s kind of starting to scare you.

If you were to stay here- you think you might even fall in love with Johnny… that is, if you haven’t already.

You pull away from your Ghostie, letting out a sigh. 

Getting out of his lap isn’t fun, and your legs are wobbly as you stand next to the bed, but Johnny’s hands go to your hips to steady you.

When he stands, he towers over you, and you’re overcome by your thirst for him all over again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. 

It’s so easy to get lost in making out with Johnny, but you have to tear yourself away, nodding, “Tequila.”

“Tequila,” he echoes. “Can you stand by yourself?”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, but it still hurts when he lets you go. 

Johnny pulls on some sweatpants while you find your dress-

“You’re not putting that back on,” Johnny tells you, moving to his closet. “Let me give you some clothes.”

“Are you trying to announce to Mark and Hyuck that we’ve fucked?” you laugh, accepting the large t-shirt he throws your way.

“Trust me, Tiny, they’ll know.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“After this, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, and something tells me you won’t be able to either.” Johnny pulls on a hoodie, grabbing the tequila and turning to you. “I know you, remember?” 

You grin, pulling on the pair of black boxer shorts he’d also sent your way. “Maybe a little too well.” 

“Or not well enough,” Johnny suggests, approaching you again.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Only for you,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you again. “You look cute in my clothes.”

“Do I look like I just got fucked senseless?”

“Definitely.” 

“Mark’s going to hate you,” you laugh.

“He’ll get over it,” Johnny brushes it off, reaching for your hand. “Ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“You can still stay here if you want.”

“No, let’s face this now.” You need to be firm, need to get out of this love den before you find yourself even more loved up.

The two of you head to his door and Johnny holds it open for you. 

In the time you’ve been fucking, it looks like a lot of people have dispersed from the party, so walking through the hallway isn’t exactly a walk of shame. However, when you get down the stairs to Mark’s floor, you realize you still have to pull up your big girl panties to face him.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you tell Johnny, “I’ll meet you in Mark’s.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?”

“To the bathroom?” you laugh. “I think I’m good.”

With one last kiss, you make your way to the frat bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s important to go pee after sex, for UTI reasons, your sorority big sister has drilled that into you since first year. When you’re done, you head to the sink, daring a look at yourself in the dirty mirror.

You look fucked, but you also look happy. 

In fact, you can’t stop smiling. 

After washing your hands, you dab some water on your throat, hoping it will calm you down. Once you feel good and ready, you exit the bathroom.

Mark’s door is open when you get to his room, and you poke your head inside. 

Jaehyun and Hyuck are on one bed, Mark and Johnny on the other, and they’re all lifting shots to their mouths. As you step inside, Mark’s gaze shifts to you. He takes in your new outfit and his eyes widen, then he spits out his shot, coughing loudly. 

Johnny’s hand finds Mark’s back while he practically coughs up a lung, and then Mark is leaping to his feet. “What-” His eyes dart between you and Johnny, and you can see the realization there. 

“Jesus, Mark, learn how to handle a shot,” Hyuck scoffs.

Mark doesn’t even entertain Hyuck, he simply turns to his big, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny’s chest. “You’re Ghostie!?”

Johnny stands up. “You’re the one who gave me her number last year.”

“I what?!” Mark’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head now.

Hyuck and Jaehyun exchange a look, and Hyuck reaches for the tequila to pour another shot.

“Mark, it could be worse-” you say, trying to de-escalate the situation while stepping further into the room.

“How could it be worse!?” Mark bellows. “My Big is a stalker!”

“He’s not a stalker,” you defend Johnny, coming to join your tall new lover, your hand reaching for his.

“You’re her new boss!” Mark insists.

“Hyuck fucked our last bar manager,” Johnny points out.

“Guilty,” Hyuck smirks over the rim of his new shot.

Mark’s still not having any of this situation. “This is fucked up.”

“Mark, I’ve told you a million times, it’s spooky season.” You can’t help but giggle. This has been such a turn of events, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You better not hurt her,” Mark says next, trying to meet Johnny’s gaze even while substantially shorter. 

“I won’t,” Johnny promises. 

“This is just-” Mark shakes his head. “Fuck this, I need to sleep.”

“We can move the party to my room,” Jaehyun says, already grabbing the bottle of tequila while Hyuck reaches for his bong.

It’s clear Mark’s done talking, and he collapses onto his bed face first like a tantruming toddler. You’ll discuss this with him another day, but you know now is probably not the time to push him to accept that his Big has a whole different side to him that Mark’s never seen. 

As you leave the room with Hyuck, Johnny and Jaehyun, Hyuck elbows you in the side. “I always knew you’d end up with one of us.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, gaze shifting to Johnny and Jaehyun who walk a few feet ahead of you.

“Once an NCT girl, always an NCT girl,” Hyuck nods. “And between us…” he leans closer, “Johnny is a good one.”

Your Ghostie looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. “He is,” you agree. “Hey, John?”

“Yes, Tiny?” He stops at the door to the stairwell, holding it open and allowing you to catch up.

“I changed my mind, I think I am done with the party tonight.”

“Yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Gonna come back to my room?”

“If you invite me.”

“Tiny, my room has an open-door policy for you now.”

“Is that so?” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Uh huh,” Johnny grins. “And free cuddles, anytime you want them.”

“I like the sound of that,” you confess. 

“Just get married already!” Hyuck shouts back at the two of you as he climbs the stairs with Jaehyun. 

You and Johnny can only laugh at Hyuck. Your willpower is completely gone, and you allow your Ghostie to take you back to his room. 

He cuddles you close as the party dies down outside, and you find yourself slipping into the best sleep of your life on Halloween night with your Ghostie by your side.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Halloween is my favourite Holiday, and there's something about Johnny and horror genre that makes me go feral

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🔮 preview. There’s no way he should be this fucking sexy. You’re outside in the cold, parkas on, a Santa hat on his head, a joint between his lips,  both your jeans down to your knees, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s about to fuck you against a wall with his massive cock- you’ve decided that Johnny as a whole is simply illegal.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism in an alley, weed use, slight temperature play, big dick Johnny, quickie, cum kink/filling panties with cum while at work, praise, dirty talk, size kink, hand over mouth silencing, choking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, pretty girl, good girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 275

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

You’ve been dating Johnny for a month and a half and you still can’t get enough of him. Whenever you pop over to the frat, it’s not long before one of you is dragging the other to his room. There’s never been sexual chemistry like there is for you and your Ghostie.

You’d never thought your biggest hurdle in the workplace would be refraining from jumping your bar manager, but here you are, every shift, practically drooling over him. Each brush of his hands across your body as he moves behind you to grab something makes you want to tear his clothes off, and your patience is at an all-time low. 

With Christmas fast approaching, the bar scene has substantially dwindled, and it’s making you even more needy. When Skeets only has a handful of customers, you fill drink orders while thinking about sucking on Johnny’s cock. 

It doesn’t help that he’s started wearing a Santa hat- why does it make him even sexier?

As Johnny smiles and makes casual conversation with a pair of girls sitting at the bar, you do your best to calm yourself. At the end of the night, you’ll be the one in Johnny’s bed, you just have to get to closing.

You notice in the periphery of your vision that the girls are finishing up with their drinks. Johnny excuses himself to grab the card reader, and as he slips past your ass, you feel his hard cock in his jeans. It’s difficult to stifle a moan, and you do so by biting on your lip. 

He loves teasing you, especially while you’re at work, and it drives you absolutely mental.

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[sleep-drunk-kitten]

pairing: Sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, fluff, established relationship

content warnings: emotional neglect, some swearing, hoon is kinda a workaholic ig?, I don't think there's anything that really needs warnings other than this is sad but lmk if I miss anything!

summary: your boyfriend comes home late after promising to be home on time for once, only to find that you're nowhere in sight...

notes: this is another one that I'm not sure how to feel about ;-; but I hope you guys enjoy it TwT fun fact, the whole thing was inspired by an rp that I did with an ai where the robot somehow managed to call me by another person's name while cuddling XD

I'm making a general taglist for my fics so if anyone would like to be added please either send an ask or a DM ^w^

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

  The white noise of your favorite movie buzzes through your living room, conversation and dialogue that you’d learned by heart filling the cold space with a false sense of familiarity. You sit cross-legged with your back pressed into the arm of the L-shaped couch in front of the tv, resting your chin on a plushie held close to your chest, looking not at the flickering screen to your right, but at the clock hanging in your kitchen–the only room in the house with the lights on. 

  9:17 pm, it reads. Roughly three hours and seventeen minutes since your boyfriend would typically get home from work. 

  Three hours and seventeen minutes since you’d been waiting on a barstool by the kitchen island where you both usually took your meals. 

  A tiramisu cake and a bouquet of flowers laid out in front of you. 

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  So much waiting. 

  After an hour or so, you’d gently slid the cake back into its box, distracting yourself with the task of putting the flowers into a vase before they could wilt. 

  ‘He’s late again,’ you think sleepily, eyes struggling to stay focused on the clock, ’he promised he wouldn’t be tonight.’

  Your vision blurs as the long hand hits 12, eyelids too heavy to keep open, mind wandering to the conversation you’d shared with Sunghoon that morning. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

  “What time will you be home from work today?” you asked sleepily, sitting up in your nest of blankets, having woken up to find that he was already in the process of pulling his socks on, careful not to wake you. 

  “I don’t know, Love, you know how crazy things have been with this update, I might be late again,” he said absently, looking around for his glasses. “Where the fuck did I put them?”

  He runs a hand through his hair frustratedly, leg bouncing in agitation. It made your heart ache slightly in your chest, disappointment, guilt, and worry mixing confusedly in your stomach. 

  You loved Sunghoon, more than almost anything else in your life, he was the man you’d chosen as your partner, who you’d decided to stand by through thick and thin. But ever since the game company he worked for had started work on a new update, you’d been seeing less and less of him. Always coming home late, tired and stressed, mind wandering and absent even when he was sitting right in front of you. You understood, you really did. Between the two of you he was the one with the bigger income, the burden of taking care of you, of making sure that the two of you could build a future together, was on his shoulders. And it was a responsibility that he did not take lightly. 

  But still. 

  In moments like that, where you slid off your bed to fetch his glasses off the nightstand–blanket wrapped securely round your shoulders to fend off the cold that permeated your apartment since the heating had started to malfunction–moving round the bed to stand in front of him… you couldn’t help but feel like he was breaking your heart. Just a little. 

  It was in the way he only met your eyes briefly when he took them from you before standing and gathering the rest of his things, sighing in what could’ve been frustration or relief, it was hard to tell. 

  It was the way he didn’t stop the flow of movement steadily taking him away from you and towards the office till you called his name twice, stopping in his tracks and fixing you with a look that, though probably unintentional, made you want to bury yourself under your mountain of plushies and hide. 

  “I’m going to be late, (y/n), what is it?”

  You winced. You couldn’t help it. Unaccustomed to hearing him say your name with so little emotion. “Just… could you come back on time tonight?” your voice is barely more than a whisper, tapering off into silence the longer you force your eyes to meet his. “Unless you can’t of course! I’m not saying you have to do anything, I understand that you’re busy and you can’t really dictate when or how things get done but just that it would be nice if you could be home on time tonight since-”

  “Okay.”

  “Huh?” 

  “I’ll make it home on time tonight.” 

  His voice was softer than it had been a moment ago, giving you the courage you needed to meet his eyes. They were still heavy with worry, brows drawn together to dig a permanent crease into the middle of his forehead, but they weren’t quite as cold or distant. He was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time in what felt like forever. 

  It wasn’t much, you knew that. But it was still enough to ease the knot building in your throat. Enough to bring a small smile to your face as you nodded. “Mnm! Okay, I’ll see you tonight then.”

   “Mnm, alright,” he said, a small, slightly strained smile coming to rest on his own lips.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

  The apartment was almost completely dark when the lock to the front door chimed, alerting the darkness that someone had arrived. The figure that stepped through was slumped over, backpack sliding off one shoulder with his jacket, shoes abandoned haphazardly. 

  It took a moment for Sunghoon’s mind to catch up to his body, for it to fully sink into his bones that he was home. That he was home and it was nearly 11 pm. Home and the tv and kitchen light were both on, white letters onscreen asking the room if anyone was still watching Netflix. 

  Something in the kitchen caught his eye, a handmade vase his sister had given you for your birthday set out on the kitchen island, filled to the brim with pink, white, and purple flowers he did not recognise. 

  ’Oh’

  It was his birthday. 

  That’s why you’d asked him to come home on time. 

  Sunghoon groaned, face twisting with what could only be described as pain as he quickly set his bag down by the front door and made his way to your shared bedroom. You were usually asleep by this time, unable to pull all-nighters the way you used to back when you were in high school, always out like a light by no later than 10:30 every night. 

  ’But she still stays up every night waiting for you,’ a voice in his head hisses.

  ’I know… fuck I know she does,’ his own voice replies, panic setting in when he finds your room empty, the bed neatly made, not even a dent to show that you’d been laying in it while working on your laptop during the day. 

  ’She’s not here… are you surprised? How long did you expect her to wait?’ the voice whispers, a chill cascading down his spine.

  The panic sets in with more vigor, wrapping round his throat and sending his tired mind into overdrive as he checks the bathroom, your home office, and finally the dark living room. Fear telling him that this was it. 

  He’d really gone and done it now. 

  He wasn’t a complete fool. He knew the moment you stood in the middle of your bedroom floor instead of closing the distance between you and wrapping your arms around his waist, choosing instead to clutch your favorite duvet like a lifeline, wincing when you heard his voice, all because you wanted to ask him to come home… he knew right then that he’d been an absolute idiot. 

  He’d meant to come home early, to be there to make it up to you, to apologise properly, tell you that he’d take some time off as soon as the update was done and dusted. 

  But he didn’t. He let work sweep him up again. Drowning in error messages and buggy code till the sky outside his office windows was filled with the flickering lights of the city at night. 

  And now… now you weren’t there. 

  He’d left you alone. 

  He’d left you alone too long and you were gone. 

  You were gone. 

  You were gone and-

  ’Oh.’

  There you were. 

  The relief when Sunghoon sees you–curled up on the couch, partially hidden by a small pile of blankets and stuffed animals–is immediate.

  He doesn’t really register the way he sighs your name, shoulders relaxing, body melting into the floor the moment he’s in front of you, hand brushing a few messy strands of hair out of your face. The need to feel the warmth of your skin, to confirm that you really are there in front of him more an instinct than a conscious decision. 

  You mumble something in your sleep, tilting your face away from his cold fingertips, eyes fluttering open. “Hoon… hi baby… welcome home,” you say tiredly, shifting under your blankets in an attempt to pull yourself up. 

  Sunghoon feels his heart crack in his chest. Why were you smiling at him? You should've been angry. You should've pushed him away, demanded to know why he was back so late, why he'd been neglecting you in the first place. 

  “Baby? My love… why are you crying?” you ask, reaching for him through the haze of sleep still clinging to your limbs. 

  Choking back a sob, he leans closer, tucking his head under your chin and doing his best to wrap an arm around you from his place on the carpeted floor. “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head, though the tears soaking into your sternum say otherwise, “just missed you…”

  Your vision blurs at his words, a thread of steadily building tension and worry that had been constricting your heart for the past few weeks snapping. “Oh…” your voice shakes slightly, lungs shuddering as your breaths begin to feel lighter, “I’m right here you goose, what’re you crying for?” 

  “Who says I’m crying,” he says, hoarse with tears. 

  “Right right,” you laugh despite the dampness now soaking through your own cheeks, “because my baby never cries, huh?” 

  “Never,” he sniffles, nuzzling closer.

  You stay like that for a while, eventually urging him to sit more comfortably on the couch, allowing you to settle yourself on his lap, his arms still wrapped firmly round your waist, hands occasionally kneading whatever part of you he was in contact with as if he needed to assure himself that you were there, solid and real. 

  He waits until he feels your heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm, trying his best to calm down so his own can match yours, beat for beat. The way it–in his opinion–should. 

  But it wouldn’t, there were words lodged in his throat, and every time he tried to get them out he felt that same panic wash over him, sending his heart into a frenzy. 

  You could feel like beating against your cheek, could sense that there was something he wasn’t saying from the way his grip on you would tighten almost imperceptibly, stiffening as if he was bracing himself for something. A part of you wanted to push him, prompt him and ask what was going through his head, why you’d woken up to the sight of him crying in the dim light of your living room. And you would’ve if he hadn’t beat you to it. 

  “I’m sorry, (y/n).”

  “What do you mean? For being late? I know you can’t help it, Hoon, it’s not some-”

  “No! I mean yes, I’m sorry for being late tonight but… I mean… I mean for everything… for not being… here, with you, like this… as often as I should be, I’m sorry,” he says, the hands at your sides nervously fidgeting with the fabric at your hips, nervously looking between your face and the static tv screen behind you. 

  Sunghoon had never been good with words. You’d learned early on in your relationship that he preferred to show how he felt through his actions. Yet here he was, fumbling through an apology because… because… 

  “My love… did you think I’d left?” you ask, gently cupping his face with one hand, urging him to look at you. 

  Puffy red eyes still wet with tears, messy unkempt hair from running his hands through it all day, tired and probably as emotionally spent as you’d ever seen him and still… still he was the most beautiful person in the world to you. He nodded, hiding his face in your chest again, hands stilling. 

  “Well,” you sigh, resting your chin on top of his head and running a hand through the hair at the back of his head, combing through it in a way he swears only you can, “at least you know you’ve got things you need to make up for…”

  “I know… I forgot for a while… but I know…”

  “That’s okay then,” you breathe, leaning back to kiss his forehead. “But Sunghoon… baby… darling… the love of my life… my little pookie bear… “ you both giggle a little at the pet names, “You know I’d never leave you over something like this right? I was sad, and hurt, and I still expect you to make it up to me by never doing this again but… I still love you, it only hurts because I love you… I’m not going anywhere.”

  Sunghoon pauses for a moment, letting your words sink in. You think that when he looks up, lips slightly parted, it’s to say something in response, but you really should’ve known better. 

  Slowly, giving you enough time to pull away should you choose to, his breath mingling with yours before he steals it away with a soft, lingering kiss. Neither of you is in any rush to take things further. 

  It feels like a small eternity before he pulls away, like time stills for you both, but then he’s pressing his lips to your jaw, butterfly kisses tickling you down to your pulse point, making you giggle so you almost miss it when he says, “I love you too… so much…” 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

  It isn’t until the next day when you’re shuffling into your home office dressed in one of his oversized jerseys, complaining about a meeting that he remembers the flowers he’d seen on the kitchen island.

  Pulling out his phone, he makes good use of his detective skills (and google lens), remembering all the times you’d spoken to him about the language of flowers, and the meanings behind certain blooms. 

  He wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or cry once he’d figured it out, opting to dig through the cabinets for a pack of waffle mix to fix you some breakfast instead. He had a lot of apologies to make…

Baby’s Breath: pure everlasting love

Pink Camellias: longing for you

Forget-me-nots: true love memories, do not forget me

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor II

Summary: It feels like you and Harry are looking for different things. You aren't cut out for casual and Harry doesn't have time to focus on a relationship. But feelings are complicated and Harry doesn't even know what he wants until he realizes he can't stop thinking about you.

A/N: Here she is! The final part! I hope y'all enjoy! Part I Here

Word Count: 13.375

Warning: smut, angst, fluff, praise kink, size kink (kind of)

. .

It was another round of disappointment with Gunther after the 2nd time. Not only because he was so unenthusiastic and he wouldn’t return the favor (still), but because you really couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. About how good it had been with him.

As you were going down on Gunther you kept sucking him in and it just didn’t feel the same. He smelled different, and not necessarily bad but it wasn’t as pleasant as it could have been. He’d definitely sprayed some kind of cologne on and you could taste the bitterness of it on your tongue. And he was kind of rough with you. Pressed the back of your head down and grunted once or twice. You even attempted to run your finger over the spot Harry showed you and he got all squicked out by it thinking you were trying to put it in his butthole. And that reaction had totally ruined the moment for you.

Just like the first time, you left his dorm and walked back to yours alone in the dark with nothing but your thoughts and a touch of disgust. You considered reaching out to Harry. He did mention to you that you could call him anytime. And you were left fully unsatisfied by Gunther. There was no part of you that didn’t believe Harry could satisfy you every which way.

You figured you’d call it quits with Gunther after that and maybe you’d contact Harry again. But to your surprise, he contacted you first.

H: How did it go with Gunther?

You were working on a paper at your desk when you saw his message. Of course, you stopped everything to respond.

Not great. He did cum, though. So I guess that’s good! lol

H: Did you also cum?

You swallowed and bit your lip as you felt your cheeks heat up at that question.

No.

It took a bit for him to respond. You weren’t sure if he was in the middle of something or if he didn’t have anything more to say, or maybe it was that he was thinking of how to word his response. And by then you had a hard time getting back into working on your paper so you called it quits for the day and decided to shower.

You kept wondering what was on Harry’s mind. Wondered if you should follow up with him. Ask him to see you again. And when you got out of your shower you had planned out a whole message to type out to him. You’d ask him for another lesson and see if he had any time. You’d be kind of putting yourself out there but Harry had been so nice and it was so good with him you hadn’t stopped thinking about that night.

But there was already a message from Harry waiting for you when you picked up your phone.

H: I think you should come over again. You didn’t get what you needed from him and I’ll happily make up for it. Show you what it’s supposed to be like.

You laid your phone down on your sink counter and grinned, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Because yes! Yes, you’d go to his and let him take care of you. God, you’d love to give him another blow job too.

Only if you want. When were you thinking?

His response came faster than you expected.

H: Are you free tonight? Say 6 or so?

You weren’t technically free. You needed to finish your paper but fuck it. Harry would be worth a rushed final product.

That works for me : )

You met him at Maud’s like the first time. Only this time you bought his tea and a sandwich for him. He told you it wasn’t necessary but you felt like it was the least you could do. You walked back to his apartment together and told him about your paper that was due and he talked about his thesis. Harry was an interesting person. He wasn’t just eye candy, he had real depth. And he was kind.

“So why don’t you have a T.V.?” You asked as you sat on his couch and he plopped down next to you, drawing his arm over your shoulder.

“No time really. I’m telling you, I am almost always studying and doing coursework. Used to have one but it was too much of a distraction.”

You laughed, “And this isn’t a distraction?” You motioned your hand between yourself and Harry.

He shifted his seating and his hand moved from your shoulder to the side of your neck as he gently pulled at you, “Oh it’s a distraction all right. But this is the kind that’s worth it. Television has never been worth missing out on a good study sesh,” he laughed and you laid your palm on his chest.

“Well, I hope it’s worth it. Don’t feel like I’m all that amazing. Kind of ju–“

Your words were abruptly cut off with his mouth over yours. You let out a surprised squeak and Harry laughed against your lips, “Sorry… just want you, Y/n…”

You were a goner. You had never felt so sexy in your life as in that moment. Harry seemed quite ravenous and you didn’t know if it was because he was just horny in general or if it was because of you but the way he was licking at your mouth and touching your hip and moaning it felt a lot like he was simply into you. At least that’s what you were going to believe.

He got you into his bed again, your pants and sweater on the floor as he kissed your tummy. Your head was spinning, “Your lesson today,” he spoke between soft pecks over your skin, “Is to see how special you are. How you deserve to feel good. To be with someone who’s going to worship you…”

He hadn’t even touched your clit and it was already throbbing under your cotton panties. The man knew just what to say and you couldn’t help but melt into his mattress and moan his name.

You didn’t have much experience. But you knew one thing and that was that Harry was really really good. He pulled an orgasm from you like an expert, fingers tucked deep into your pussy with his tongue and lips sliding expertly over your sensitive clit. You could hardly even remember getting your clothes off but you didn’t forget his words as he pushed your thighs apart and nosed at your pussy, “So sweet, honey,” he looked up at you, “Can I call you honey?”

Honey. You didn’t mind. Of course not. He could call you whatever he wanted.

And when you finally came down from your orgasm, you shivered as he kept sucking on your clit. You tried pushing at his forehead and he hardly budged as he lifted his mouth from your pussy, “Relax. One more okay? Give me one more, honey?”

Fuck. You were not sure how you were going to survive this man.

When you were panting and sweating after your second orgasm Harry laid next to you and kissed your neck and told you how sweet and perfect you were. You tried returning the favor but he just shook his head and pulled your hand away from his obvious erection to kiss your knuckles, “This wasn’t about me tonight. Just for you, okay? I’m fine. Took care of myself before you came over anyway.”

“But you’re hard…”

“And I promise you that I’m fine. You deserve to be taken care of, Y/n. Don’t like how you’ve been neglected. Want you to just get what you need tonight.”

You stayed at Harry’s for another couple of hours. Just talking and laughing. It was like you two had always known one another. You learned a little about his childhood and you told him about yours. He was sweet and easy to talk to and you loved how he kept holding your hand and pinching your bottom lip as you’d talk. And when it was time to go he called you an Uber again, to which you protested, telling him that was unnecessary.

“It’s absolutely necessary. Don’t want anything to happen to you and this way I can watch the route and make sure you get where you need to go.”

It was like you were another person for the next week and a half. You were feeling quite confident and you ignored Gunther’s text to “hang out”. Harry made you feel like you deserved more. Even if you’d never have anything serious with Harry, he sure made you feel special.

But one night when you and your roommate were hanging out at a sorority house, you overheard something that made your stomach turn.

“You stayed the whole night?”

“Yep. He asked me to. Fucked me so good I almost couldn’t walk and he’s just so nice… I kind of thought he’d have me leave but he said he wanted to make sure I was okay.”

“What’s he like?”

“Well, everything about him is just…” the girl grinned and bit her lip with that dreamy, faraway look in her eye, “He’s so hot up close too. His body… holy shit, you should see this man’s body! But his dick… when I felt that thing inside of me, I was a dickmatized. He’s big and it’s just… perfect. But it’s not just that he’s got a big cock, he’s like… super nice and just knows how to orchestrate the whole experience. Talked me through it all, it was so sexy, and he knows what he’s doing.”

“And you’re gonna ask for another session?”

The girl nods, “Oh yeah. I already did. Well, the morning when I left he fucked me again and then ate me out and told me to call him if I ever needed anything. So I obviously called him…”

Harry wasn’t your boyfriend. He was a single man who had a reputation. He was known for this very thing. So why did it bother you? Why did it make you feel nauseated and jealous? You didn’t even get to have full-on sex with him. It was just oral sex both times, but it felt like you missed out in a way, not having the opportunity to have him like that. But perhaps it was better that you hadn’t had actual sex. Because your wandering thoughts and feelings were betraying your good senses. Images in your brain of you and Harry being a couple were silly. That was never going to happen. Maybe continuing to see Harry would be a bad idea after all. You were already feeling things for him that you shouldn’t be.

And, so, when Gunther called you again the day after you heard that story you decided to answer the call and give him yet another chance. He asked for another “date”. But this time you told him you wanted to actually go out somewhere first. Like on a real date. Maybe a change of scenery would be nice. Maybe the third time would be the charm, as they say. Perhaps if you gave him one more shot he’d redeem himself. Maybe you’d finally get what you were looking for all along.

So there you both were on a Saturday night at the bar with house music playing. You were readying yourself for another round of disappointment and being left unsatisfied when he refused to dance with you. The bar you two had gone to had a DJ every Saturday night and you thought it could be fun to have a couple of drinks, eat some bar food, and dance a bit. But Gunther didn’t want to get up off his stool and he went way beyond just a couple of drinks. You weren’t sure how many he had at that point but it had become clear that he just wanted to drink and get back to his room so he could get his dick sucked and send you on your way.

This time, however, there would be no blow job. You had already decided on Ubering back to your dorm alone afterward. You just had to figure out how to break it to Gunther first.

.           .

Harry had been wondering about you since the last time he saw you. The nervous pretty girl who wound up being quite the breath of fresh air for him. He didn’t expect you to call him for another session but he kind of hoped you would. Or at least just a text to hang out. The last night he had you at his place he felt like you were an old friend. A hot friend who he wanted to bang, but a friend, someone he felt comfortable with who he could talk to all night. He was surprised at how easily the conversation flowed with you. And so it was kind of disappointing when you didn’t reach out to him again. He felt like maybe you weren’t that into him.

He even wound up having to cancel on someone he’d made plans with. He wasn’t sure he was ready to look at anyone else naked. He needed time to get his head on straight. Which just meant he was concerned he’d be thinking about you while he was with someone else. And that was something he refused to do with anyone; think about one person while being with another.

And now it was almost two weeks later and he was still thinking about you. Kept wanting to text you to ask how you were. To see if you wanted to just hang out. He figured if you wanted more you’d reach out. He didn’t want to assume you felt whatever it was he felt. He wasn’t even quite sure what he was feeling.

So when his friend invited him to go out for a few drinks he thought it would be a good opportunity to get his mind off of you so he decided why not? He didn’t often go out to drink. He didn’t have time for it, truth be told. But his buddy wanted to celebrate landing a big job and Harry said he could only hang out for a couple of hours because he had to be up early the following morning to study but he could use a couple of hours away from schoolwork to let loose a bit.

The bar was packed and the room was loud with music and an open dancefloor where people were dancing and flirting. He figured he’d go out and dance for a song or two after a couple of beers and then call it a night. As he was on his second pint he gazed around at the tables with girls in their short dresses and guys trying their hardest to impress and that’s when he spotted you. He felt his heart float up into his throat and then he narrowed in his sight to see who you were with. Gunther.

Harry had looked up this Gunther guy. He was easy to find. He was following you on Instagram and being that there weren’t many called Gunther he knew right away it was him. Why did he look him up? It was just another thing that had Harry a bit perplexed. Being someone on the path to becoming a sex therapist, one would think Harry had more of an idea of what was going on in his own head. But maybe it was more just a matter of whether or not he was ready to admit what he was feeling.

You appeared bored. Annoyed maybe. You had your chin propped in your hand and you were swirling your drink with a straw. Your eyes were focused on the dance floor and Gunther was looking a bit tipsy. He was staring at his phone. If Harry were there with you he��d have his whole attention on you. He wouldn’t even be thinking about his phone. Hell, he had his whole attention on you now and he wasn’t even there with you.

He wondered what it was you saw in Gunther. He knew the man wasn’t doing it for you. He could just see it in your posture. If you had been well fucked, or at least satisfied on some level, and given the attention you deserved your demeanor would have been different. Harry could do that for you. He’d seen how you responded to a good orgasm and how relaxed and confident you got when you were satisfied.

When he saw you sip the last of your drink and say something to your date, who didn’t even so much as give you a glance, you got up and made your way to the dancefloor when the new song came on.

Watching you sway and dance alone had Harry’s heart rhythm increasing. Your dress was riding up your legs and you had your arms raised and your eyes closed. It was clear you were just trying to enjoy your time whether or not Gunther was. He was glad you were dancing and doing your own thing.

“Who’s the girl?” Harry’s friend asked as two more guys joined them at the table.

“Y/n. A friend.”

“I bet. You gonna go be her friend again tonight?” Paul’s elbow teasingly poked at Harry’s arm.

Harry nodded, “You know what? Maybe I will. Looks like she could use some company.”

Leaving his beer behind at the table with his mates Harry scanned his eyes back towards Gunther who was still enmeshed in whatever was on his cell phone’s screen. He couldn’t believe the guy wasn’t watching you dance. You were a sight.

Harry wound his way through the crowd before he got close enough that he could get your attention. But your eyes were still closed as you sensually moved your hips and swayed to the beat. He began to dance, only a few feet in front of you as he watched you move and feel the music. He stepped in closer, glimpsing down over the skin on your neck and up to how your lips were slightly parted, a bit of sweat building at your brow line.

And when you finally opened your eyes to see the very man you’d had on your mind it came as quite the surprise. You blinked your lashes at him as he grinned down at you, “Harry?”

Your smile stretched over your face as you continued letting the music guide your movements and he took your hand, gently pulling you closer to breach the space between you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you gazed up at him like you were in a dream. Was he really here? “What are you doing here?”

He laughed and moved his hand to your hip, “Came out with some friends,” he glanced toward the table where Gunther was still laser-focused on his phone, “I see you’ve come with someone as well.”

You followed his gaze and then looked back up at him, “Yeah. Was trying to give him one more shot.”

Harry’s big hand had a firm grip on your hip as you both moved away from the sight of Gunther, still dancing, “One more shot? You think he’s worth it?”

Shaking your head you laid your palm over his chest, “I don’t know. Just wanted to see.”

Harry let out a laugh and shook his head, “You think he’s gonna satisfy you? Or you think you’ll be left wanting once again?”

You felt your face warm up as you shook your head no and shrugged.

“Then why are you here with him, Y/n?”

You shrugged again and looked down at the collar of his shirt, “Just wanted to see if a night out would make it better.”

Harry pulled his free hand around the back of your hip and ducked his head down to your line of sight, “And look at him over there. Not paying you the attention you deserve. If it were me I’d be out here dancing with you and showing you off to everyone.”

You laughed, that smile he was searching for back on your face again, “You are technically out here dancing with me.”

“See? I say what I mean. You’re too special to waste your night with him. You planning on leaving here with him after?”

“Don’t think so. I mean look at him… he doesn’t care if I’m here or not. He probably just wants his blow job and he’s suffering through all this just to get his balls drained,” you laughed and covered your mouth with your free hand. You didn’t know what’d gotten into you saying that but you didn’t regret it when Harry let out a loud guffaw.

“It’s cause you’re so good, Y/n,” Harry ran his hand up your spine to wrap his fingers along the back of your neck, and he ducked his mouth close to your ear to speak, “You know that right? How good you are? Got me all flustered right now thinking about it. Don’t go back with him. He’s not worth it.”

Your eyes fluttered when you felt his warm breath on your ear and down your neck. You loved what he was saying to you but you also knew he was probably just being nice. Like he was to everyone. Like he had been to that girl he let stay over after you. While you were pining over him he was fucking another.

Not that you had any right to be jealous. There were no strings in this relationship.

“I think I’ll just get an Uber back to my place. That’s what I was planning anyway,” you turned in to respond to him.

Harry moved you to the rhythm slowly and the feel of his hands on you was exciting. But you didn’t want to get caught up in how it all felt because you knew you’d just get attached to him. He was so nice and so good and being with him had you feeling like you were special to him. Though, you knew the truth. You were just like everyone else.

Except that every time you looked into his eyes it was deep and there was a well of emotion or something that couldn’t just mean nothing. But maybe that was just you being the silly optimist that you were.

“Can’t believe he didn’t give you anything,” his gaze seared over your face, “Can’t believe he wouldn’t want to.”

You felt his hand gently squeeze the back of your neck and his heart was pumping healthily under your palm. He ducked down again, his voice vibrating off the shell of your ear and the heat of his body enveloping yours, “He’s missing out because you’re so sweet. Feel lucky I got to taste you and he never has. Might sound selfish but I hope you don’t let him.”

You panted when his lips grazed over your earlobe and then he planted a hot kiss to the skin just underneath, “Let me have you again. Come back to mine and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Want to taste you and feel, Y/n. Missed you…”

Your brain was blurry as he smudged his lips down your neck. Your skin pricked in delight at the cool air that hit every damp spot left behind by his mouth.

“What the fuck?”

Your little bubble burst when you heard Gunther’s voice. Harry kept his arm around your low back, continuing to hold you close.

“Dude… what is this?”

“It’s… Gunther this is Har–“

“I don’t care who he is. Why is he dancing with you and kissing you?”

“That’s a good question,” Harry responded, “You should have been out here with her but you were too interested in your phone to notice that someone else was enjoying her company and paying attention to her like she deserves.”

Gunther laughed and stumbled forward, trying to pry Harry’s hand from your waist, “Come on…”

“Go home, Gunther,” Harry moved you behind his back and stood tall to look down on your date.

Gunther looked at you, dumbfounded, “Is this guy for real?”

You nodded and grabbed onto Harry’s arm, “Yeah. You should leave and get some rest. I think you’ve had too much to drink. I’m sorry–“

“Don’t apologize to him. He should have been acting like your date.”

“So, you’re not coming back to my room with me? My roommate’s out all night, Y/n…”

Shaking your head you stepped next to Harry, “No. I’m not. I think I’m just gonna go home myself–“

Harry looked down at you, “You sure you want to go home?”

“Fine. This was a lame date, anyway,” Gunther laughed and pointed at you, “Don’t call me again.”

Rolling your eyes as your date walked off you looked back up at Harry who was still looking down at you with a confused expression, “You really don’t want to come with me?”

You swallowed and let go of his arm, “It’s not that… It’s just kind of complicated and a mess of things I don’t want to explain…”

Harry took your hand, “Try me.”

You shook your head as you both moved away from the crowd of swaying bodies, “This isn’t a therapy session, Harry. I have real feelings and I’m not cut out for casual like some people.”

He followed you toward your table where you had left your purse. You wanted to make sure you got it before anyone else did.

“What does that mean, Y/n? Talk to me.”

When you pulled your purse over your shoulder you shrugged as you looked up at him, “Come on Harry. You know what I mean. You and I are in different leagues. You are having fun and sleeping with all these people, which you’re totally allowed to do! And I barely have any experience and was even so desperate that I went out with Gunther again in hopes of some kind of connection–“

“Hey,” Harry softly grabbed your face and let the pads of his thumbs graze over your cheekbones, “You and me have a connection. And there are no leagues, Y/n… that’s something made up.”

You puffed out a laugh but you really wanted to melt into him, at his soft touch, “But we’re looking for different things, Harry. And that’s fine, really… I should go…” You began to walk toward the exit and Harry followed you out the doors.

The silence and the darkness outside were only tempered by the streetlights with the noise of a car passing and the bass of the music coming from inside the bar you’d just walked out of.

“I hope you don’t think I took your company for granted, Y/n. I really, genuinely like you. Haven’t stopped thinking about you since our last night together.”

You nodded with a faint smile, “That’s nice to hear. I know you’re a super nice guy, Harry. And I hope this doesn’t sound rude or anything… but it’s just hard for me to really believe you were thinking much of me afterward. I imagine you stay booked and busy.”

Harry’s brows stitched together, “Booked and busy? I don’t just have lots of girls over all the time, Y/n. I am a busy man though. I’m in my coursework program and working on my thesis. I’m not just fucking around all the time. Haven’t had anyone over since you, actually.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “No? What about a pretty blond who stayed the night with you? I’m guessing it was last week?”

He shook his head, “Had no one over last week.”

“Really?” You looked down at the concrete sidewalk and wondered if you’d gotten it wrong. You swore it sounded like she had just seen him the way she was talking.

Harry pulled your hand into his, “You’re the last girl I had over. Was supposed to see someone the other day but I canceled. Wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

You sighed, “I mean… obviously you can do what you want and see who you please. I’m just… my point is that I’m worried about getting attached. You’re good at casual and I’m not. So… seeing you again might be fine for you but for me, it holds so much more meaning. It’s just how I’m programmed. I can’t help it.”

He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know why that little confession had his heart twisting, “I see. So you wouldn’t want to see me again then?”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t want to. I think you’re fun and we had a really good time but I don’t know if I can handle being one of the many. When I overheard someone talking about sleeping with you…” you shook your head, “I was sick to my stomach even though I have no right to feel that way. Does that make sense? And I’m not like saying,” you gestured your arms about, “… that I’m already attached or anything. It’s just I am not cut out for being with someone who’s also sleeping with others. So it’s better to cut our losses. My losses… before I actually get hurt.”

Harry could understand that. He’d dealt with this before. Girls getting jealous of other girls. And so then at that point, it was time to part ways as amicably as possible. Because Harry was a single man and not ready for commitments like that. His only commitments were finishing his thesis, getting his doctorate, and working toward opening his own practice one day. That was where his heart was. Not with any one girl who might come along. Perhaps one day he’d settle down. After he met all his life’s goals first.

But looking at you and your pretty eyes, the ones that had him in a trance, the ones he couldn’t stop thinking about that had him canceling on another girl… well he was quite torn. He didn’t know what he was feeling exactly. All he knew was that he had a plan, a path he’d forged and would continue on until he got what he wanted. And never in that plan did he imagine meeting someone along the way who could disrupt any part of that.

“I wish you’d reconsider.”

You shook your head as you looked at his soft green irises, wondering if that would be the last time you’d get to see them up close. You wanted to repeat his words to him. I wish you’d reconsider. Because that’s what it would take. You couldn’t do casual and you’d drive yourself mad knowing he was sleeping with others. There was nothing wrong with Harry. In fact he was quite astonishing and impressive. But that would only make the eventual parting even worse for you and so you figured it was better this way. It would be nice to have him again but you’d just be falling deeper into that hole. You knew yourself all too well.

Your Uber had arrived and you smiled up at Harry, “I can’t. I found myself thinking about you too much and just imagining how it’d be if we did more… I’d really be a mess. But truly, you’ve been so great, Harry. I wish you all the best.”

You climbed into the back of the black Toyota and Harry thought he should stop you. He thought he should climb in after you and tell you that you were making a mistake. That he really didn’t know what he was doing but he couldn’t just let you leave like that. He could figure it out if he did it with you.

But God, what was he thinking? Why would he do that? He didn’t know you well enough to be making such big decisions that could derail the very rigid plans he’d already made for himself. So he let you go. He watched as the car took you down the street until you were out of sight completely and he felt like something was missing. For the first time ever there was a pit in his gut, an obstruction that had him faltering. Had he just fucked up? Or had he done something that was for the better?

He honestly didn’t know.

.           .           .

The university you attended was like a small town. Thousands of people attended classes and milled about the campus every day. And despite how many people there were gossip was quickly and easily spread. It shouldn’t have surprised you because if there was one thing a college girly was good at, it was gossiping and learning more details about gossip they heard. And who happened to be one of the most talked about grad students on campus? To your utter dismay, the name of one of the most popular and attractive guys at university was Harry Styles. You’d never paid much attention to it before you met him. But now every time his name came up you were all ears.

Now you didn’t go believing all the things you heard in general. Most gossip was easy enough to ignore or brush off as inconsequential or probably a downright lie. But your ears did perk up when you were at a frat party and you heard Harry’s name mentioned. And the only reason you even heard it was because your roommate was chatting with a girl who was talking about him.

“Yeah, I guess Harry’s been seeing people but not doing anything with them. Like he brings them to his place or whatever and then he just freezes and apologizes but Lora said, and I’m just saying what I heard from her, that he really liked some chick and she didn’t want to see him again and he can’t get over her or something?”

“That’s interesting. I heard he canceled on someone a month ago- Amy’s friend who hung out with him once. So maybe this has been going on since then?”

Your roommate turned to look at you, narrowing her eyes and you knew what she was thinking. But even if the part about him being upset over some “chick” was true, certainly that had nothing to do with you.

“I heard the same thing,” another girl chimed in, “My brother is in a class with him and he said Harry’s been kind of down I guess.”

“Your brother takes note of his mood?” One of the girls laughed.

“Oh yeah. Only because I ask about him. When I found out he had a class with Harry I was like tell me everything!” She laughed.

You had a feeling that most of what you were hearing was false. Harry was so confident and just having a good time you couldn’t imagine he’d freeze up around anyone like that.

As the night went on, the frat house became packed with people. Dancing bodies, music, drugs, alcohol, hookups… You were there for the dancing and alcohol part. Your roommate had her eye on the debate team champ, Alex, and was hoping to get lucky finally (they’d been kind of playing a cat-and-mouse game that she was ready to finish once and for all).

You kept your drink in hand the whole time. Only refilling when necessary and trying not to get too wasted. That was never cute and it was also dangerous. But you loved dancing and letting loose with others who were just as bad at dancing as you were. It was fun to not worry about what you looked like because no one really cared.

Except that when you heard Gunther’s voice from behind you and felt his sticky hand on your arm you wanted to vomit, “Look so good, Y/n…”

He was drunk. His voice was slurred and you were annoyed at his presence. You pulled away from him but being the nice girl you were you smiled and made small talk for a bit as you kept moving your hips to the music.

“Come back to my room again tonight. Miss this mouth,” he plucked at your lip and you swatted his hand away, the smile on your face dropping instantly. No more nice girl.

“No thanks.” You turned to leave the area where everyone was dancing to get away but he followed behind.

“Oh, come on. You love sucking me off. You’re so good at it too.”

Finally. A compliment. But of course, it was too little too late and certainly not the time nor the place for such words. Besides, you were no longer attracted to him, and no matter what angle he tried it wasn’t going to work.

“Go away, Gunther!” You suddenly snapped at him and he stopped mid-stride and looked at you like you had two heads with horns.

He lifted his hands in surrender, “Okay. Fine. Jesus.”

You turned to make your way to the kitchen for a refill when you saw something that made your heart drop and your stomach bubble in gross shock. It was Harry Styles dancing slowly behind some cute girl, his arms wrapped around her front, leaning down to her shorter height and he was kissing the side of her neck.

Your Harry. The one who had you all gooey and giddy after that “session”. The one who kissed your neck not that long ago. You wished he was dancing behind you like that. You wished you hadn’t been so sensitive and that you could throw caution to the wind and not care that he was sleeping with others. You wished you could have just given in that night at the bar and gone back to his… But you said no to him. And now here he was with someone else.

You gulped and turned to go to the bathroom instead, Gunther still eyeing you up from the spot where you’d left him.

You stayed in the bathroom for a bit. Not wanting to go out and see Harry and the cute brunette dancing. You knew she was in for a treat later on. But that should have been you. Pouting at yourself in the mirror you felt ridiculous. You knew what it was with Harry. That he was a free and single man and could do as he pleased. You really had no right to feel upset over what you’d seen. He’d done nothing wrong.

Dumping out the last bit of your drink in the sink you figured maybe it was just time to leave. You didn’t want to have to deal with Gunther nor did you feel like seeing Harry all over someone else. Perhaps tonight was just not going to be your night.

As you opened the bathroom door a figure stood in the way and your immediate thought was that Gunther had followed you but as you trailed your eyes upward it was clear the man was taller and you didn’t miss the nail polish on his fingers when he gripped the door. Everything stopped. The music, the air around your body, your heart…

“Y/n…” That deep voice spoke your name like it belonged on his tongue.

You looked up at him, removing your hand from the doorknob, and gave him a confused smile, “Hi Harry. What are you doing?”

He seemed off. Not drunk but maybe not quite sober either? You weren’t sure what to make of his behavior as he pulled the door open and stepped into the bathroom, closing it behind himself.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stepped in toward you, your bottom hitting the edge of the porcelain sink, “Nothing makes sense lately. Just want to go back to how things were but I can’t. S’like I’ve got some kind of block. Something’s missing…”

You shook your head, not really understanding what he was talking about as he continued.

“I don’t know what’s going on in my head. Are you really still with Gunther?” He looked hurt. Wounded almost.

“No. After that night at the bar, I haven’t talked to him. He just happened to be here.” “You were dancing with him.”

“Well, not really. I was dancing and then he came up behind me. I was just being nice talking to him but then he said something and…” you scoffed, “Why does it matter? You were dancing with someone else. And you were all over her. You should be out there with her enjoying yourself, Harry.”

“Can’t. Haven’t been able to enjoy anyone. Don’t want to anymore. Every time I do this now I just… can’t.”

“But you were. You were kissing her neck, having fun. Looked quite cozied up to her, Harry. I imagine she’s waiting for you to return right now.”

“I mean I can’t lie to myself anymore. I’ve been kidding myself. I can never go through with it. I don’t want her. That was just a show. When I saw you with him… it’s dumb. I don’t know what I’m doing, Y/n.”

You sighed and scanned his face. He did seem down, “So why are you here in the bathroom with me? Did you want to talk to me? Is there something I can do?”

Truly you were racking your brain trying to figure out why he was there and why he was telling you everything he was. Now you weren’t a dumb girl, but you would never have assumed what he was about to tell you in his next breath.

“Yes. There is something…” he swallowed, his soft green irises fixed on your mouth, “Can you kiss me? Just once more. I just need to see something with you. Is that okay?”

You felt dizzy. Felt confused. Felt your breaths shallow as he looked back into your eyes, “What? I don’t understand. Why?”

Harry softly brushed his knuckles against yours, “Because I can’t stop thinking about you and every time I try to see someone I just see you. And it’s driving me mad and I don’t understand it really but I just need to know something and I think if I could kiss you maybe it would help clear up the fog in my brain.”

“The fog…” you whispered the words back to him and felt his fingertips against yours. And it was suddenly clear to you what he was saying. You were the one who had him all messed up. The “chick” he couldn’t get over. You didn’t know how it was possible or why but it was and he was begging you with his eyes and his fingertips. The heat of him standing only inches away from you was beckoning you to give in.  

When you wound your fingers through his and gently pulled him closer, your lashes fluttering up at him, you saw a light in his eyes, a sparkle of something like wonder and hope and relief. The strange nervous, tense energy you spotted when he first walked into the bathroom with you was suddenly gone.

He brought a hand up to your face, his long fingers curving around to the back of your neck, “It’s okay? I can kiss you, Y/n?”

“Yes. It’s okay, Harry.”

Closing his eyes, a shaky breath fell from his mouth as he relieved his lungs of the pressure in his chest and you braced yourself for his lips on yours but it wasn’t at all what you expected. It wasn’t rushed or filled with filth and lust. It wasn’t slobbery with an excited tongue finding its way into your mouth or teeth colliding in haste.

No. It was filled with warmth and it was soft, slow. He pressed his lips to yours and ran his thumb gently over your cheekbone, inhaling deeply. He squeezed your hand and lulled his lips up and down to the edge of your mouth and delicately swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. The warmth created embers as you parted your lips and ran your tongue against his and your heart lobbed in your chest at the emotion and the meaning you felt pouring from him.

He refused to rush the kiss, slowly opening and closing his lips against and around yours, softly licking and breathing and touching your face and your hand. And when you let out a small whimper the embers caught on fire and his hips were against yours and the fingers at the back of your neck held your face against his as he worshipped your mouth and you felt his nose nudge into yours before he gasped and spoke, keeping his eyes closed, “It’s you. It’s what I want. All I want. I knew it.”

You blinked your eyes open and cupped his jaw, “Harry… what do you mean?”

With his eyes still shut he sighed, “I just mean it’s you that I can’t move on from. I can’t describe it right now but you’ve done something to me and I need more of it.”

In most circumstances, those words would be music to your ears. But you were terrified of getting hurt. Terrified that he was just confused and if you entertained whatever this was he’d realize it wasn’t all that deep and he’d go back to his “tutoring”. Because he had said that when he first got into the bathroom with you. That he just wanted things to go back to how they were. And if you were just a means to an end, well, you didn’t want to be part of that, for your own sake.

“So you’re hoping that now things can go back to how they were before me? Yeah?”

Harry’s eyes opened and he looked down at you, shaking his head, “No. They can’t. I can’t. That kiss, Y/n… Was exactly what I thought. Can we get out of here? Go somewhere and talk?”

He was convincing. How could he not be? His irises were brighter and greener than they were before you kissed him and the thumb he smoothed over your jaw and to your earlobe had you melting, relenting. So you nodded to him and said your goodbyes to the two friends you arrived at the party with, following him outside, keeping your hand in his the whole time.

Your dorm room was closer so you decided to go there and it was like you were walking through a scene in some surreal movie that you couldn’t wait to find out what the ending was going to be. But before you could even get to your dorm, Harry had you against the wall at the art building, and the rush and the lust that you hadn’t quite gotten earlier in the bathroom was suddenly burning all around you.

Wet lips and hasty, shaky hands, hips pasted together away from the streetlamp that illuminated the sidewalk only feet from you… A heart-racing blur. Nipped lips and stifled moans, heaving chests…

And then a hurry to get to your building and find your way up to your room before the dizzy haze of Harry enveloped you again and it was all-consuming. You couldn’t peel yourself away from him and his lips found your neck and your skin and you pushed your hand under his shirt to touch his warm chest.

But he parted from you with a gasp, his chest rising and falling so rapidly his lungs were likely struggling to keep up.

“I’m sorry. That… Y/n I just really really like you.”

Pulling your hand from his chest you nodded at him and shifted on your bed so you could sit to your bottom next to him, “I like you too, Harry.” Obviously.

He ran a hand through his hair and nodded as he looked down at his lap and then dragged your hand over his thigh, sliding his fingers between yours, “I mean I want to be with you. I can’t even think about anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”

You watched as Harry drew his fingers over your knuckles and between your digits then pressed his palm against yours.

“But… so you don’t want to like have what you had before? Like all the girls and the… you know,” you breathed out a laugh that was full of nerves, “The sessions? Weren’t you just having fun?”

He shook his head and turned to look at you, “It was fun. But it wound up just being kind of empty after a bit. Didn’t really get what I was looking for. I mean at first, I didn’t even know what I was looking for. But you know how you said you gave Gunther one last shot because you were hoping for some kind of connection?”

You nodded as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering where he was going with all of it. Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“I realized that’s what I was looking for. And you… Y/n there’s just this thing with you. I never connected with someone like that before. I never felt so… I can’t like describe…” he paused as he collected his thoughts, “Breathless? Or like… achy here,” he lifted a hand to his chest over his heart, “It’s this stinging dread, just a hopeless feeling. I never cared if someone didn’t want to see me again. But I cared a lot when you didn’t want to. It hurt.”

Those were the kinds of feelings you felt when you liked someone who didn’t like you back. It was that exact description that you were worried about with Harry. You were worried you’d feel all that and then he’d be with someone else the next week. It was for fear of that very thing. But he was feeling it. That devastation.

“I understand exactly. That’s why I didn’t want to see you again. Because I was worried I’d start to feel that too. And it hurts so much that it was easier to part ways before it got to that point. So I get it.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore. With anyone else. I’m done. And I’m so close to what I want… my degree. So I thought it was too much to focus on just one person but I think I was wrong. It’s a lot of work having people come and go. Maybe it’s better to just have someone I can trust and someone who’s there for me. Just one person who I feel a real connection with.”

You swallowed the lump down your throat and your tummy was in knots. It truly did feel like you were in a surreal movie scene all dreamy and untidy with bursts of vivid colors and soft stringed music slowly intensifying as the minutes drew on.

“Would you want that with me? To see what happens? I’m not saying it would be like a fairytale or anything but like… just a normal relationship. Get to figure out what this is between us and learn about each other. Just the two of us.”

“So, me and you?”

“Yeah. Me and you. Not something casual. I’d only want to see you.”

You hadn’t imagined your night going in this direction and it still felt like you were about to have a director enter your room and yell cut! It didn’t quite feel real but it was. Harry was sitting next to you on your bed with his hypnotizing bright green eyes on you, caressing your fingers and your palm with his.

“Okay. Yeah,” you breathed out your words and Harry’s pink lips turned upward in a boyish smile complete with adorable dimples and you couldn’t help but return the expression but it only lasted for a second or two before his lips were pressed against yours again.

Everything about him was intoxicating. His body against yours, his hands on your face and squeezing your hip as he laid you both down in your small bed. You wrapped your arms around him as he ran his tongue over the seam of your lips and it turned into something dirty and desperate, your hands grabbing at him and his fingers trailing under your shirt.

He squeezed at your bum, your jeans blocking him from feeling you unencumbered and then he parted from the kiss, his hair all wild and strewn about from your fingers, “Can we do this here? Is your roommate coming back?”

You looked at the clock on the table at the side of the room and it was well past 2 in the morning. You honestly weren’t sure if she was coming back but you knew she had hopes of going back to Alex’s place. But you also didn’t care. At least not in that moment with Harry right there with you, his scent all over your body, his jeans unzipped, and his shoes somewhere in your room.

“I don’t know. She might be out all night. Just… If she comes back we’ll cover up,” you laughed. You had once again lost your mind. Harry seemed to have you in some lusty trance you couldn’t break. Didn’t want to break.

Harry ducked down to kiss your neck as he fit himself between your legs, the bed squeaking under the sudden shift of weight. You could feel his open pants against your hip. You’d gotten a bit carried away when you were making out and undid them for him, to which he laughed but didn’t stop you. And now, that convenient thing was seductively calling to you as you reached your hand down to push at his pants.

“In a hurry are we?” He looked down at your hand and then at your face.

“Not really. I don’t know. I just want… you.”

Harry’s lids were heavy as he blinked his eyes, “Well you can have me. Whatever you want.”

He pressed the tip of his nose to yours before smearing his mouth against your lips and your fingers were back in his hair once again. Slow and luxurious. Hasty and filthy… Harry kissed you like he didn’t know which way was best. But you were getting fired up from the way he was doing it. You didn’t care, you just wanted it. Wanted his mouth and his tongue, his hands and his body, his moans and his hair between your fingers.

You were hot. Molten underneath him. Your panties were ruined and you were sure he knew what he was doing. Your mind wandered to where you’d put your condoms and then you felt his hands on your hip as he slowly began to slide your shirt upward.

He sat back, plucking at the front of his pants, and then put his hands back on your waist, “Can I get this off? All of it?”

You nodded and grinned with your lip bitten into your mouth as Harry got rid of your t-shirt and then unbuttoned your pants, “You too. Can we get your clothes off too?” You spoke as you lifted your hips and let him peel your jeans down your legs.

Harry grinned at you, “Absolutely. You already did part of the work here anyway,” he laughed as he gestured toward his unzipped pants.

Harry was left in his boxer briefs when the last thing you had to get rid of was your light blue panties. But Harry seemed quite transfixed by the wet spot on the fabric over your pussy. You were so wet the whole of the crotch was clinging to you, outlining what was underneath and Harry slid his thumb over the top of the material and parted his lip before looking up your face, “Fuck.”

You panted softly when he bumped into your clit and pressed over the slick spot, “Does that feel good, Y/n?”

You nodded, “Yeah. That feels good…”

“So warm and wet for me,” he drew his hand up to the elastic waistband and pulled it downward, “Gonna take a closer look. S’that alright?”

You were full of nothing but yes as you knocked your head up and down affirmatively and bounced your gaze from his eyes to where he was disrobing the last bit of material covering you.

He pushed out a quick succession of what sounded like a breathy whistle as he took you in with his eyes, his fingertips holding the soft, mushy part of your inner thighs so you stayed spread, “Fuck. Fuck, honey…” he licked his lips and looked up at you as he ran his thumb through your folds, “Can I have some of this again? Taste…”

He sounded almost as delirious as you felt. Taste… eat… suck… fuck… whatever he wanted. You nodded, “Yes, Harry.”

He leaned over your body, pressing his chest against yours, and kissed your mouth before dragging his lips down your neck and to your tits, stopping to suck and lick each one before he drew his hot mouth downward, sponging kisses over your tummy and to your hips.

Your legs were brought up to drape over his shoulders as he held onto your thighs and then watched you as he licked up from your gushy hole to your clit.

The sounds that fell from your mouth were pitiful. You had an ache that needed to be relieved and it seemed only Harry could do it. Every swipe of his tongue through your crease had you slipping toward the edge of the earth, “Harry…”

You did your best to keep your eyes on his, knowing that’s what he liked but you couldn’t help throwing your head back every time he sucked your clit and rolled it under his tongue. He was better than your clit sucker. He was better than anything or anyone else.

“Mmmm…” your attempt at stifling your moans only goaded Harry even more. He drew his lips over your clit and slid them side to side and the pressure that was building in your tummy had you shaking.

“Will you…” you gasped and pulled at his hair, “Can we have sex?”

You had an immediate urge. A need to feel him closer. Wanted him inside of you right then.

Harry lifted his face from your pussy and licked his lips, “You sure? You’ve had sex before, yeah?”

You laughed and let go of his curls with a nod, “Just with one person. I’m not very good.”

“I’m sure you’re amazing, Y/n,” he sat back, gently placing your legs down and you pushed yourself to sit up.

“I don’t know,” you grinned at him and ran your foot over his thigh, “Maybe you could give me a proper lesson. Think I need tutoring.”

Harry wrapped his palm around your ankle and shot a cheeky eyebrow up, “Oh you need tutoring, do you? Well, you didn’t sign up for a lesson with me. Think you’re just gonna get a freebie?” He laughed.

You shrugged as he lifted himself and began to pull his boxer briefs down his hips. Your eyes focused on his big cock. You couldn’t wait to see what’d feel like inside of you. You were positive he’d be gentle and give it to you good.

“So what are you saying? You charge for your services now?”

Harry pursed his lips to the side and smoothed his hands up your calves, “Teaching is hard work, Y/n.”

“I bet. How about just one last lesson? For me?” You bit your lip, rounding your eyes at him.

“Fine. Just for you.”

“Condoms are in the top drawer,” you pointed to your dresser, “Never been opened.”

He began to move off your bed but then paused, “Never opened?”

“Well, the guy I slept with had his own and we only did it twice so I’ve never used the ones I bought.”

You watched him walk to your dresser to find the unopened box of Trojans. Harry was so fit and masculine and his ass was gorgeous. He was a work of art from behind but when he turned and walked toward you he was angelic. His toned abs and strong thighs, skin littered with tattoos and bits of hair on his pecs, his handsome face, and of course, the heavy, thick organ between his legs, swollen and hard. Just for you.

He kneed up to you on the bed and handed you the wrapper with the condom, “Ever put a condom on a penis before?” He asked as he stroked himself

You shook your head and tore the wrapper open. When you had the rubber in your palm Harry flipped it over, “This side goes on my tip.”

You brought the condom to his tip and looked up at him as you began to roll the rubber downward but he stopped you, “That’s good. But first, pinch the top here, like this,” he brought your fingers to the top of the rubber and pulled at it away from his crown, “Just gives a little space for movement and for my come.”

You gulped at the image in your brain of the condom being filled with his come after orgasm. His shaft was wide and long as the rubber was rolled down as far as it could reach.

You looked up at his face and he was watching you closely with a soft smile, “Very good.”

Harry scooted himself between your legs, his knees butting against the back of your thighs as he smeared his fingers through your folds, “We’ll go slow. I want to make sure everything feels good. When you had sex before, did you come?

You shook your head no.

“And how did you do it? Was he on top?”

You nodded, “Yeah, he was on top of me. It was kind of quick. Both times. I lied and told him I came.”

“Okay. Did he keep your clit stimulated?” He asked as he thumbed at your clit, mushing into it to drive the point home.

You gasped softly, “No. Never touched it.”

“Not even once? What about foreplay?” He circled your bud and the slickness from your pussy began to coat his fingers.

“We just made out and he fingered me and I did get wet. But he never touched… ohhh….” Harry slid two long fingers into your entrance and you looked down to view the spectacle.

His hand was wet with your arousal as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly, “So you’ve just had a string of bad lovers. I’m gonna do my best to make up for it.”

You sighed as he dragged the pads of his fingers along your front wall before pushing them back into his knuckles, “You’re so wet and ready. You deserve to feel good, Y/n. Deserve to have someone care for you.”

You ticked your hips upward slightly and Harry pumped into you a bit harder, the gushy noises of your pussy getting fingered sounded dirty but so good.

When he pulled his fingers from you he held the base of his shaft in his palm and smoothed his free hand up your tummy, “We’ll start off with you on your back. I’m going to go in gently. Okay?”

You nodded and shot your eyes down to his cock and then back up to his face.

“There you go, just keep your eyes on me. Tell me if anything is uncomfortable.”

Harry pulled at your hand and brought your fingertips over your mound, “Rub your clit the way that feels best for you. Okay?”

“Mmhmm…” you nodded and slid your fingers over your nub as you kept your eyes on his.

The initial stretch of your slick muscle around his thick head had you gasping. He inhaled through his teeth and pressed in slowly, “Your body is so turned on. That feels all right, yeah?”

“Yes… feels good.”

“Yeah? Feels good for me too.” He was breathy as he sunk into you and then pulled back a few inches, looking down at where your bodies were connected, half his cock buried inside of you.

And it surprised you how thick he was and how much of him you felt. You’d always heard you don’t feel much when there’s a penis inside of you but Harry’s penis was definitely working into you and spreading your insides apart.

With your fingers delicately running over your bud you moaned, “Oh god… Harry…”

He gripped your thighs and pulled you closer before shifting himself over you, “We’re gonna make sure it feels so good okay? You’re kind of shallow and I can feel the resistance at this spot here,” he rutted in and you gasped, “Like that… depends on where you are in your cycle could be shallower or more space, but I’m only gonna push in as far as is comfortable for you.”

He had his hand on your cheek as he spoke, “Still feels okay right now?”

You nodded, “Yes. You can go deeper. Wanna feel it.”

Harry groaned softly and pressed his lips to yours. You had to pull your hand away from your clit because his pelvis was taking the place of where your fingers were. When he plunged himself in further you felt a delicious pinch and you panted into his mouth.

“Don’t want to hit your cervix. Usually, it’s not comfortable. I’m getting in there pretty deep, though. You okay?”

“Please… it’s okay.” You did want to feel it. Wanted to have him stuff you full and make you ache and burn and wince in pain. The dildo you used always hit your cervix and you didn’t mind the way it felt. Some days you liked it more than others, depending on how horny you were. And in that moment, you’d never been hornier. You wanted to feel him ruin you.

Harry let out a breathy laugh and pushed himself up so he could look into your eyes, “You want to feel it, honey?”

Nodding your head you felt him spread you apart and fuck into you with one deep rut. Your body bounced upward and you gasped.

He stilled his hips and stayed buried inside of you, his hand on your cheek, “That’s it right there, Y/n. Can’t get it in any further. You like that?”

It was obvious you did. The look on your face told him as much. Your eyes were fluttering and your mouth dropped open as you lifted into him, mushing your clit against his solid pelvis, “Mmm yeah…”

Harry swallowed as he watched your features soften then and scrunch with every thrust. He smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip and you licked at the pad of his digit before you wrapped your lips around it and he was in awe of how filthy you really were when he felt your nails dig into his back.

“S’hurt, honey? At all?”

You moaned around his thumb, your eyes blinking up at him, and nodded before hitching your leg up over his hip to indicate you still wanted more, pushing him in closer with the heel of your foot.

So you wanted it to hurt. At least a little anyway. Harry wasn’t going in hard and he wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until he learned exactly what you liked and what your body needed first. But every time he bottomed out you grunted and sucked on his thumb harder and he was losing it.

“Fuck… you’re so hot, Y/n. Look at you with your lips wrapped around my thumb. You just needed something to suck on, didn’t you? And you feel so good around me. So wet and warm, honey…”

You’d never had a man’s fingers in your mouth. You had no idea what you were doing but when Harry slid his thumb over your bottom lip it just came naturally to you. To pull it into your mouth and it was… god it was taking you over the edge. And he seemed to like it as you swiped your tongue around his skin.

But better yet? His cock. You were so full and it was so incredible to have him like that. The other guy you slept with was fine. But now you’d never want “fine” again. Not after this. Not with the way Harry was pulling himself back and then rocking into you, every plunge better than the last. He didn’t pound into you or try to race to the end. He wanted to make it good for you.

He began to pant deeply, his gasps lined with moans as his thrusts became clumsy and he stilled his hips before pulling his thumb from your mouth, “Let’s get you on top. Okay? Wanna watch you ride me and let you take control. Bet you’re gonna be good at it, aren’t you?” His irises scanned your face as he spoke, his thumb at your cheekbone dragging upward.

“I don’t know? I hope so…” you breathed as he nudged himself upward, deeper, “I do wanna be good for you.”

Harry moaned, “Yeah? You are good for me, honey. My favorite. You don’t even realize how good you are but I’m gonna keep telling you til you believe it. Okay?”

Your eyes were heavy and your body was hot. You nodded and let out a breathy, “Okay…”

“That’s right. Now we’ll have you get on top. Wanna watch my pretty girl get herself off on my cock.”

You felt him slide out of you and you looked down at his long condom-covered dick, coated in your juice. Everything smelled of sex as he dipped down and kissed your mouth before climbing next to you and lying down. He pulled at your hips, bringing you over his lap as you placed your palms on his chest and settled your pussy down at the base of his shaft. You wrapped your palm around him and slid it up and down to feel the rigidness of him. He was so hard and thick it made your mouth water.

With his fingers still at your hips he squeezed gently, “Depending on your angle it’s gonna feel very deep. Sometimes it can ache a little bit because I’ll be tucked up into your cervix,” he moved one hand toward the front of your low tummy, “But you can control how deep I get. Can even tilt your pelvis downward which will give your clit more stimulation. Might make it easier for you to come.”

You looked between your legs as you lifted your hips and rocked forward so you could press your entrance over his cock but then you felt his hand on your chin, directing your sight back to him, “Keep your eyes on me. Want to see your face while you’re pushing me inside of your pretty cunt, okay?”

You nodded and began to push yourself down. He fit inside of you so nicely. All snug and warm, packed inside of your guts. Every inch you took you could feel stretching your wall apart.

Keeping your eyes on his you raised your hips upward and then sunk down further to adjust, letting out a puff of breath as your lips parted until your bum was seated on his lap, his cock stuffing you to the brim.

Harry moaned, “Yes. Good fucking girl,” he made sure to praise you as much as he could because he noted how your eyes lit up every time he did it. Pulling at your hips, he brought your pelvis downward, “This is kind of like the starting position. You only need to grind and rub upward, don’t even have to lift off of me. Just slide in toward my belly button,” he pulled at you, causing you to drag upward on his cock but keeping your clit down against his pelvis, “See? Feels good cause you can keep your clit stimulated this way too. Let’s do this for a bit. Just get used to the motion here and do what feels good.”

It was easier than you thought. Your knees and shins were pressed into the mattress along the sides of Harry’s hips as you slid yourself upward. You’d always imagined it being some crazy acrobatic feat where you sat like a frog and bounced up and down like a pornstar. But this? This you could do. And it felt so intimate. Your palms were pressed into his chest, his hands moved down to your ass as he assisted you along his shaft and then back along to his base.

“Tell me how it feels, honey. The look on your face says you like it but want to make sure…”

You rocked your hips, gripping around him and pulling upward with your eyes on his, “It’s… god… it feels so good, Harry…”

“Feels good for me too. Love this angle,” he moved a hand up to your breasts and palmed at your nipples as you continued fucking yourself on him.

When you’d gotten into the movements and found a rhythm you could hear the wetness coming from your pussy every time you slid up and down his cock.

Harry continued smoothing his hand over your tits, “If you really want to feel me deep, lean back a bit.”

Pushing yourself to sit upright you adjusted your hips and the new angle had him deeper than he was before. You hissed as you swiveled your hips and Harry grunted, running his hand back down to your low tummy, “How’s that feel?”

“It’s kind of achy, but feels really good,” you spoke softly, looking into his eyes as you shifted your pelvis.

“God you’re taking me so well, honey… Look so gorgeous on top of me, pretty tits in my face, fucking yourself on my cock... making yourself feel good.”

Everything felt good. You were sure it was because of Harry. All the nice things he was saying had your head spinning and your heart thrashing.

He knew of course that you didn’t need instructions. You might not have had as much experience as he did but sex was something that came naturally for most. And you were so into it and your innate eroticism was shining through your more reserved demeanor.

Harry began to thrust upward, rocking into you, sticking himself in deep. He had one hand caressing your tits and the other pressed into your tummy. You weren’t sure why he was touching your tummy but when he thrust upward into you sharply you cried out and he pressed harder, “Fuck! You’ve got me so deep inside of you, honey. You wanna feel this?”

You reached your hand down to where his was, your hips writhing over him as he punched himself upward and you gasped when you felt the bulge in your tummy under your palm. He did it again and moaned with you, “Oh my god!”

You could feel his cock pressing through you when you put enough pressure on your tummy with your hand.

“Come here,” Harry wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and pulled you down, making you tilt toward him and smeared his lips against yours. The angle where you could rub your clit on his pelvis was the best. It felt so good and you began to rock yourself over him with whimpers into his mouth.

Harry smiled into the kiss, “Bet you’ve humped your pillow before. So you know how to do this. Sliding over my cock so perfectly, Y/n.”

You pushed your palms into his chest and rolled down over him, hips pasted to his. Your orgasm was already beginning to build and singe in your body as you nodded.

His hands were on your hips as he let you take control and ride him how you wanted, “I knew it. Already have experience with this position, yeah? You wanna come, honey? You gonna fuck yourself on my cock til you’re seeing stars?”

You moaned and nodded with your lips parted.

“That’s right. You already know what to do. Now hump it like a good girl. Show me how you do it, honey…”

Harry’s words were so sweet and yet filled with filth. You loved the way he spoke to you with such care but he could turn it so dirty in a heartbeat. Likening you riding his cock to humping your pillow somehow just pushed you over the edge. And you definitely saw stars as your face twisted up and you choked out his name, “Haaarrry! Harry! Yes!! Ohhhh…”

Your pulsing insides encased Harry’s cock and he let you take what you needed as he moaned and watched your tits bounce and sway with every rock of your hips until his balls were squeezing tight and his throbbing cock couldn’t resist the way you gripped around him.

You didn’t hear Harry’s grunts or his breathy moans as he pumped into you. You didn’t see his face contort in pleasure as he kept his eyes focused on you, the pretty girl coming on his cock. You didn’t take note of how when he’d fully emptied himself into his condom he was still watching you in awe as you were breathlessly panting over him, still coming around him, milking every last bit of him out into the rubber that separated your wet cunt from his thick shaft.

You didn’t notice any of that until you finally caught your breath and felt your body tremble as you looked down at him and felt his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips and saw his heavy eyes watching you. You were going to apologize about how you forgot to look at him when you were coming but he pulled you down over his chest and held you against himself. You could feel his heart beating in his chest and his lungs filling with air on every inhale.

He smoothed his hand down your back and to your bottom, “You okay?”

You puffed out a laugh against his chest. It was funny because obviously you were more than okay. You’d just come so hard your ears were ringing and your vision had nearly gone black just before. Your entire body was limp and wobbly over him as he caressed your bottom and your back.

“Fuck, honey. You came so hard. Did so good.”

You sighed and smiled to yourself as you pushed your hands into his hair, “I did?”

“Mmm… so good, Y/n. Deserve an award for that one.” He chuckled and you could feel the vibrations in his chest against yours.

Smoothing a hand down to his pec you lifted your head to look at him and laughed, “What kind of an award?”  

Harry slid his hand up to your face, “One of those gold star stickers teachers use. I think I’ve got a pack of them actually. Could put it on your t-shirt so everyone knows how good you are.”

The filthy grin on his face had you giggling, “You do not have a pack of gold stars. Do you?”

His smirk widened, “I do actually. And I know a girl who loves being praised who I can use them all on. Maybe we’ll even get you an ice cream.”

You shook your head with a smile on your face, “What if I want kitten stickers instead?” You teased.

Harry inhaled and turned his gaze to look at the ceiling before looking back at you, “Actually… I think I have kitten stickers.”

You laughed, making Harry laugh with you.

“Okay then. Tomorrow you owe me some kitten stickers and ice cream.” You would be asking him later why he had stickers in the first place.

Harry softly pinched at your bum, a lazy grin on his face, “Your roommate’s not gonna freak out if she comes back and I’m here?”

“Nah. I don’t see why she would. Long as you’re not naked.”

Harry chuckled, “And you don’t mind if I stay here either?”

“I’d like it if you stayed.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

“Good,” you bit your lip and trailed your fingers over the sparrow tattoos at his clavicle as you gazed into his eyes full of affection.

“Then tomorrow you get kitten stickers and ice cream for being such a good girl.”

“And maybe a little bit more of you too? Since I was so good?”

“Just a little bit more is all you want?”

You laughed through your nose, “Okay a lot more of you then.”

“Okay, it’s settled. Kitten stickers, ice cream, and a whole lot of me.”

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[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[purple-babygirl]

yours to hurt, yours to love

Pairing: (dom)!Bucky Barnes x (sub)!f!reader

Word count: 8,050

Summary: They had a deal. She would surrender her control; he would take it. Love had no place in such a relationship, did it?

Warnings: 18+ Content: friends with benefits, blowjobs, lots of cum, cum eating, cum in pussy, unprotected vaginal intercourse (don't do that), mentions of cheating, angst, crying, dom x sub dynamics including a sir kink and the use of puppy as a petname, BDSM features including begging, following orders/instructions, mentions of ropes, being tied/suspended, mentions of edging and overstimulation and the use of toys, ass whipping with a belt, mention and use of a safeword, chocking, two insecure idiots being in love, metal arm kink, fingering, rubbing of cock on pussy, multiple orgasms, aftercare. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: this is a self-indulgent fic I wrote simply because I wanted to read and now it's finally done so I'm sharing it with you, babies:"💜💜 I just started at a new job and it's very tiring and energy and time consuming so I thought I'd post something before I get swept up in the real world of numbers and targets and not being broke. I really hope you like this one and I love you all with every bit of me💜

~

As most one-night stands start, they had met at a bar.

She was sitting all alone with her palm hugging a beer bottle, her face carrying the saddest look. She had turned down every guy that had tried to approach her that evening.

Bucky had been watching her all night, lost in deep thought as she barely raised the warming bottle to her lips, the melancholic look marring her features never leaving.

She had only smiled once that night, and it was for Bucky.

She was snapped out of thought when a louder song abruptly came on, startling her back to reality and that was when she saw him.

The most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on had his eyes on her from the other side of the crowded nightclub, and she found herself smiling at him.

He quickly turned his gaze away, suddenly shy that he was staring.

She wanted to ignore the man, telling herself she had a lot on her plate already, that it would likely be a mistake to go talk to him; that she needed to keep her distance from men for a while at least. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore him.

Even with his back to her, his presence was too strong to simply be ignored.

So she disregarded her minds’ screams and went to talk to him.

Bucky almost chocked on his drink when he saw that it was her who had approached him, but he managed to compose himself.

“Were you ever planning on talking to me?” She teased with a smile as she sat down next to him at the bar.

And just like that, they were talking.

They talked about anything and everything, the deepest things as well as the silliest.

She was so easy to be around and she actually made the man laugh.

She had no idea, but Bucky didn’t think he had even cracked a smile in weeks.

Before she could decide what was right and what wasn’t, she had her lips on his, and before he could overthink it, Bucky was taking her back to his place.

It has been a long time since the man had had the chance to like someone, and he liked her even more when she didn’t make him feel bad about himself that night.

The metal arm didn’t faze her.

She didn’t ask intrusive questions or even let her gaze linger. She treated it just like his other arm, wrapping both around her back as she straddled Bucky on his couch, making out with him like she has been waiting for him her whole life.

But that wasn’t the only reason Bucky appreciated her so much that night.

She had gotten on her knees for him, both of them fully naked at that point, her boobs swaying lightly as her hand pumped his hard cock, lubing him up with his pre-cum.

Her hands were magic and he didn’t want to tell her that he was too close to exploding just from her soft hand palming his tip.

She had barely gotten Bucky in her mouth when he had started cumming all over her.

The sight of his fists clutching the couch, mouth open as groans left his chest while copious amounts of cum covered her mouth, chin, neck and boobs had her wetness dripping down her bare thighs.

When he was back on earth again and his vision was no longer black, Bucky started apologizing profusely when he realized what had happened.

He had come way too fast. All over her. Without her getting to finish even once. He didn’t even get to touch her down there.

Bucky thought she was definitely going to leave.

“It’s okay,” she said with a kind smile as her clean hand caressed up and down one of his thighs, “I don’t mind.”

And before Bucky could explain that it has been a long time for him, she was collecting his cum off her skin with her fingers and slipping them into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with the man and almost giving his old heart an attack.

Bucky stared with parted lips, cock already hardening again, as she shut her eyes and moaned over the taste of him.

She had managed to eat every bit of cum that had gotten on her face and neck before Bucky unfroze and lost it.

He grabbed his shirt and hastily wiped her chest clean of his cum before eagerly carrying her to his bed.

He thought her surprised giggle as she called him a “caveman” had to be the sweetest sound he had ever heard until he pushed his cock in her and her wail of his name echoed throughout the quiet bedroom.

Bucky was hooked on the sight of her, the taste of her, the smell of her, and the feel of her.

Her walls were hugging his cock so tight that he thought he wouldn’t be able to get the rest of it inside. Her hands were scratching at his back as she tried to adjust to his size with a silent scream on her face.

“Relax,” Bucky had told her softly.

It was a simple word, but it was the most exhilarating thing when she had immediately listened, her pussy muscles relaxing for him at once, thighs spreading wider to accommodate him better.

Bucky was amazed by her ability to listen to instructions; it awakened an unmatched feeling inside of him.

Once he was buried to the hilt inside of her, Bucky wanted to see what else he could make her do; how much she might obey, so he stayed still.

“I’m ready, you can move.” She had nodded to him, thinking he was waiting on her.

But that wasn’t why Bucky wasn’t moving. He knew she was ready, her juices were ruining his sheets for heaven’s sake.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough…”

He was just giving it a try, and if she didn’t go along with it he would still give her what she wanted—

“Please,” she begged, eyes pleading as she wiggled her hips, “please fuck me, Bucky.”

Fuck.

Bucky couldn’t think much after that, his body moving of its own volition as he pulled out and slammed back inside her pussy.

It was one thrust. One single thrust had her arching her back and shouting out his name.

He completely broke down, fucking her with abandon, just wanting to hear more of her; feel deeper inside of her.

The bedpost slammed against the wall repeatedly as she screamed with every hit of Bucky’s cock to her g-spot.

The way she was scratching his back, whining, wailing and writhing under him as he pounded her into his bed should’ve and could’ve been enough for Bucky, but he couldn’t help but want more.

“Open your eyes,” he gave her another command, knowing it might be hard for her to manage that one with how deep he was giving it to her.

But her eyes were instantly on him, fighting to stay open as his fat cock filled her up again and again.

“Keep looking at me,” Bucky had told her, his right hand coming up to wrap around her neck.

He was slow and gentle, just waiting for her to stop him or refuse what he was doing.

But she had managed to surprise him again because instead, her hand had come up to his, fully wrapping his palm around her throat before showing Bucky the right amount of pressure to apply.

Fuck, she had to be an angel sent specifically to him from heaven. It seemed like whatever god was up there had finally had mercy on him.

She wasn’t only okay with Bucky’s hand being on her neck, she was showing him how to choke her as his cock fucked her raw within an inch of her life too.

Bucky felt his thrusts stutter as he almost came at the sight of her: mouth open with nothing but his name coming out of it, throat held in his palm and eyes battling to stay open as they rolled back in her head, her pussy chocking his cock.

And when he thought she couldn’t get anymore perfect, she started screaming out a request, “can I please cum? Please, Bucky!”

She was asking his permission to let herself feel the pleasure he was so willingly giving her.

Bucky felt high as he groaned, “cum”, and watched her hand hastily come down to rub her clit once, twice before she fell apart around his cock.

Her thighs involuntarily clasped around Bucky as they shook with the rest of her body, her orgasm hitting her like a thousand trains, making her back bow.

Bucky’s hand tightened around her throat the slightest bit as he felt her pussy shutter around his cock and felt himself get closer to his own release, thrusts becoming erratic.

“Please cum inside me, Bucky. Fill me up with your cum, need it,” she pled and the man could only take so much.

Bucky came and he came hard, proving the cum he had painted her body with earlier to be just a sample of what his cock really had to offer.

When they could both breathe normally again, she found herself in his arms, pitching him an idea, too satisfied and full of cum to stop herself and rethink.

And to her happiness, Bucky actually agreed.

~

When they first started that type of deal, she said she didn’t want a relationship.

Bucky respected that and he was okay with it because although he liked her very much, he knew he wasn’t the relationship type himself. He didn’t believe himself fit for romantic relationships. He thought he was too messed up for such stuff.

And she was just like him.

She didn’t know how to be loved; didn’t know how to receive love. She didn’t think she deserved it. She didn’t think she was worth it. Never thought of herself as beautiful enough or attractive enough or lovable enough.

So the dynamic they came up with was their best option.

They were going to be friends with benefits. Except, the benefits were much more extreme than the usual, vanilla sex that would come to mind. So friends with benefits with a fun twist.

After being manipulated for so long, Bucky wanted nothing but to be in charge of his life, body and mind; to be in a position of power where he had the upper hand.

She, on the other hand, needed her freewill to be taken away from her. Being as responsible as she was in her everyday life, she would get too exhausted; drained. She wanted decisions to be made for her as she only obeyed and conformed. She wanted to be used until her head held no thoughts of her deadlines or tasks.

She wanted choking and spanking and bondage. She wanted domination.

Bucky needed to feel in control, and she needed to give up control.

Take mine, she said, take my control away and make it yours.

It was a perfect match. They had clearly communicated their boundaries, wants and needs. They had established their roles, likes and dislikes. And they had agreed on a few simple rules:

It was strictly sex; only sex.

No kissing on the lips no matter what.

No cuddling afterwards even if aftercare took place.

No strings attached.

The safe word meant they stopped; no questions asked.

Bucky wasn’t exactly on board with number 2 because he knew what her lips felt like on his and he wanted more of that. But she said it would only complicate things; that it might get feelings involved and they couldn’t have that.

So he agreed. He really just wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.

And they had almost done it all in 6 months. She had let Bucky tie her down, spank her, choke her, use toys on her, edge her, overstimulate her, fuck her in every position known to humans and on every service that could take their weight and Bucky’s pace.

But deep down, Bucky knew that she still needed more even if she had claimed otherwise.

He knew that she was frequently going on dates in between their sessions, desperately searching for the one that would manage to sweep her off her feet and magically change the way she looked at herself with his unconditional love.

So when she sat with him that one day and told him she wanted to stop what they were doing because she wanted to commit to her new boyfriend, Bucky wasn’t surprised. He was heartbroken, but not surprised.

And so he let her go.

He didn’t want to. He never wanted to. But Bucky knew that he couldn’t give her what she wanted, and so he was going to let her have it with someone else. He needed her like the air he breathed, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand in her way.

Bucky was addicted to her, yes, but he wasn’t going to be selfish and get in the way of her possible happiness with that new boyfriend whoever he was. He just hoped that that new man deserved her.

~

The real surprise came when Bucky opened his door one day and she was standing there looking like an abandoned puppy three months after their last meeting.

Three months without her that have been torture. Three months during which Bucky couldn’t bear the mere idea of bringing another woman to his bed. Three months of replaying their intense scenes in his head with his hand down his pants.

Oh how he missed seeing her choke on his cock. He missed her begging for him to touch her, to relieve her heavy shoulders of everything they had to carry. He missed seeing her come for him so hard that tears would start rolling down her face.

But now she was here, and she didn’t look okay. And it made Bucky realize that he has mostly missed her being her.

“I need you, Buck,” she whispered and he instantly opened the door wider for her.

Bucky let her inside and she climbed on his lap the second he sat down. He held her in his arms on his couch for as long as she needed, internally aching to know what had gotten her looking so dejected.

He knew it had to do with the new man in her life and he could only calm himself down by imagining his fist slamming against the faceless man’s nose.

“What did he do?” Bucky finally broke the silence, making her pull her face from his neck and look at him.

God, she looked so hurt, so broken.

He wished he could fix it, but how could he when he himself needed fixing?

“If I ask you for a favor, would you do it for me?” Her faint voice asked instead, pulling away from their hug.

“You know I will,” Bucky replied without reluctance.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He would do anything for her. He would kill again for her, burn down whole cities and cross oceans on his bare feet for her if she asked him to.

She got up from Bucky’s lap, getting down on her knees before the couch just like the first night he had brought her home, “I want you to punish me, Bucky.”

“What?”

Where did that come from? She wanted to start a session? Now? In that state?

“I want you to spank me. Punish me.” She repeated calmly.

“Doll, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Bucky tried to remind her, wanting her to know that whatever that man did to ruin his relationship with her wasn’t her fault.

And he wasn’t seriously about to give her a spanking when she looked like that, so small and worn out and wounded.

“Please, Bucky.”

Damn, she begged so sweetly. But he just couldn’t.

Bucky never thought he would say no to a scene with her, especially a passionate one, but he couldn’t hurt her even more than she looked to be hurting.

That was not what they did this for.

“Doll, get up. Sit down and talk to me,” Bucky said softly, trying to lift her up by the shoulders.

“Buck, you said you’d do it.” A sad frown settled upon her delicate face with a look that Bucky knew well.

She was getting more heartbroken at his rejection. She really did want this. She needed it and she could only come to Bucky for it. How could he keep turning her down?

“Okay, doll. How many?” Bucky asked despite himself, rubbing his palms together.

“Not with your hands,” she said with a smile, getting up and walking inside the bedroom to his closet.

Bucky carded a hand through his long hair as he waited for her to come back with whatever item she was choosing, knowing this was going to be the hardest time he has ever had to cause her pain, even if it was pain she wanted and asked for.

“With this.” She left the belt she brought on Bucky’s lap as she got back to her place by his feet.

“Doll, this is the thickest belt I own,” Bucky told her, wanting to intimidate her into changing her mind.

He needed her to change her mind. He couldn’t hit her with that thing. Not today. Probably not ever.

“I know.” She nodded with the same sure smile.

“Doll, why?” Bucky touched her cheek tenderly, desperate to understand.

If she would just talk to him, he would do his best to fix it. He probably couldn’t, but he was ready to try.

“Please, Bucky. For me, I need this.” She, again, avoided answering his questions.

“This is gonna hurt, doll,” Bucky warned, examining the belt in his lap.

Damn, it was heavy.

“I know. That’s the point.” She nodded in acceptance, “I need it to hurt.”

“Doll.”

“C’mon, Buck, we’ve done this before. You’ve had me dangling from your ceiling for god’s sake!”

He remembered that day. It was a week after she had gotten promoted and everything was becoming too much for her.

She had Bucky suspend her upside down from his ceiling as he spanked her rear raw before getting her down and fucking her into oblivion until all she could worry about was if she would be able to take another orgasm.

She looked even sadder today, and she was asking for far less.

Maybe he could give her what she wanted.

“How many?” Bucky asked again with a clenched jaw, seeing that there was no way he was going to change her mind.

“As many as it takes for me to cry,” she replied and her answer sent a pang into Bucky’s chest.

So that was it. She needed to cry and she couldn’t. She just needed to cry; to give release to her pent-up tears.

Bucky knew that crying was something that she struggled with. He knew that one of the things she loved about what they did was the fact that she could cry during it all; during a spanking, an edging or even an intense orgasm.

But couldn’t it be done any other way this time? Maybe he could make her watch a sad movie or something?

“Doll, if it’s about you crying—”

“Bucky, please,” she stopped him, shaking her head with determination, “please give me this. I need it.”

If she could, she would have cried to get him to say yes faster.

Bucky sighed, glancing at her one final time before asking, “do you remember your safe word?”

“Red.” She smiled gratefully, adrenaline already pumping through her blood in anticipation.

Bucky slipped the hairband on his wrist down to his fingers, pulling his hair in a low bun before taking his shirt off, leaving himself in his white tank top.

Keeping his eyes on hers, he ordered: “strip and get on the bed, puppy. You know your position.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She jumped up, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“What was that?” Bucky’s tone was deeper and his eyes darker.

It has started.

“Thank you, sir,” she quickly corrected herself.

“Go.”

One nod of his head and she was running to the bedroom to do as she was told.

As she took her clothes off, folding them piece by piece and leaving them on the chair in the corner of Bucky’s bedroom, he was outside readying himself for what he was about to do to her.

Bucky had pledged months ago that he would give her anything she needed or wanted during their sessions.

Leaving her fulfilled made him feel fulfilled and the first time he had his bare cock in her, Bucky knew he was wrapped around her littlest finger. It seemed like he was the one in control of those meet ups but control was actually always in her hands.

Now, if what she needed was a spanking to make her cry, Bucky knew how to give it to her, but he didn’t want to. He knew this belt was going to hurt a lot and he wished she would’ve chosen something less bad.

But a deal was a deal and he couldn’t back out now that he knew she was waiting naked on his bed.

She heard Bucky’s heavy steps coming closer and tried to regulate her breathing, reminding herself that she wanted this, that she begged for this, that she deserved this.

She trusted Bucky with her life, not just her body. She knew he was going to stop the minute she said her safe word and that made her a little calmer.

“You ready, puppy?” Bucky asked, gliding the tip of the belt across her bare ass from one cheek to the other.

She shivered, fixing her gaze on Bucky’s bedpost as she whispered, “yes, sir.”

And just like that came the first spank.

But it didn’t hurt, not like she had expected, not at all.

Bucky was going easy on her; too easy.

She didn’t like it.

“Harder, please,” she begged, lowering her head and sticking her ass out.

“Doll—”

“Bucky, please, you promised,” she pled, her voice thick with frustration at her inability to get what she needed from the one person who could give it to her.

Another spank came, a little stronger than the first, but still not enough.

“Did your arm get rusty in those three months?” She threw angrily, raising her eyes to glare at Bucky, “hit me like a man!”

Bucky knew she was just trying to rile him up, make him angry enough so that he would actually hurt her and even though he didn’t want to, he decided he would finally give her what she came for.

“Fine,” Bucky growled, pushing her face into his pillows by the hair and she immediately gave him a full view of her lower half, ass in the air and thighs spread.

He wasn’t going to be able to look at her face as he hurt her this time.

Bucky took a deep breath before finally giving her a real whip and she gasped at the force of it, “is that what you wanted, puppy?”

“Getting close,” she moaned, her words muffled into the pillows as she wiggled her ass for him.

Another similar spank hit her and then another and another until suddenly her body was getting hotter and her butt sorer.

She needed more. Just a little more to break the dam and get suffocating thoughts and burning tears out.

“More, please, sir,” she begged, voice so desperate that it had Bucky swallowing.

He gave an experimental whip on her thighs and she let out a startled scream.

“What’s your color?” Bucky asked at once, hesitant that he might have actually hurt her.

“Green.” Came her reply as she looked up to Bucky, “green, sir, please.”

She was begging for more of this.

Bucky recomposed himself and spanked her thighs with the belt again and she wailed out a “yes, thank you, sir!”, urging him on.

For the first time ever, however, Bucky was not enjoying this. He was not enjoying causing her pain and he was not enjoying knowing that he was supposed to make her cry by the end of it all.

His whips got faster and harder as his thoughts ran wild with worry, just wanting to get this over with as her moans and cries egged him on.

“Color?”

“Green!” She would answer every time he checked in with her.

Pictures of her boyfriend in bed with another woman flashed throw her mind and she stuck her ass out more, hiding her ashamed face in Bucky’s pillows. He let her touch him the way only she was supposed to touch him. He made her shout out in pleasure the way she never did with him. He made her scream his name; the name that was supposed to only roll off her tongue during intimate times.

Her mind kept replaying it all, making her squirm and stick her butt out further. She wanted it all to stop.

She needed this. She deserved this. She was stupid.

“Thank you, sir,” she muttered, a lump finally forming in her throat.

It seemed like whatever had happened this time, had been so bad that the normal amount of whips weren’t enough to get her mind off of it. She was still her, well out of sub space and still very much aware of the ache in her heart.

She needed that ache to move somewhere else, preferably to her ass.

“More, sir, please.”

Bucky’s shoulder started to slightly ache as he kept whipping her, again and again, just wanting it to be over so he could comfort her after as he heard her sniffles, and finally, with a particularly harsh spank on her lower thighs she screamed out, “red!”.

Bucky’s arm stopped immediately, dropping the belt on the floor as he listened as her soft cries get louder.

She burrowed her face in his pillow and let it all out, sobs wracking her entire body as she cried her bleeding heart out.

“Doll,” he whispered, regret filling him at the sight of her body trembling with each wail she let out of her chest.

He looked at her lower body and her ass and thighs were a crime scene, her skin painted in angry red welts all over.

“Please, leave me alone, Buck,” she wept, her face still hidden in his pillow.

“Let me take care of you, doll—”

“No, no. Just leave me,” she pleaded without turning to him.

“At least let me put something on your skin—”

“Please just leave me alone. Please, Bucky,” she sobbed harder, her fingers clutching the side of the pillow as she let her tears flow.

Bucky reluctantly left the room, giving her the space she asked for as guilt ate away at his heart.

He shouldn’t have listened to her. He shouldn’t have done that to her.

It was only when he sat down on the couch outside that he had realized how hard he had actually whipped her. His right shoulder ached, a few strands of his hair were out of place and sweat had forced by his hairline. All the realization did was make him feel more terrible about himself.

He knew he has done it before so many times, but this time was different.

She came to him hurt emotionally and instead of helping her feel better, he ended up hurting her physically too.

She did ask for it, but he could have said no. He could’ve insisted on not doing it.

The sound of her cries seemed never-ending and was absolutely heart-wrenching to listen to. Bucky could all but cover his ears to prevent it from reaching him as he beat himself up for causing it all again and again.

She winced as she sat up on the messy bed, hand on her naked chest as she tried to calm herself down, still hiccupping while her cries slowed down.

God, she had needed this so bad. She had needed it for days and she was so grateful for Bucky for giving it to her.

Being able to cry and let everything out was a blessing that people didn’t appreciate enough; one she was kind of deprived of and had to do a lot to get to enjoy.

When her heartbeat was somewhat slower and her tears have ceased, she slowly pulled herself down the bed and on her wobbly feet.

She looked out to the living room from the bedroom door to see Bucky back on the couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands and she knew he was blaming himself.

So she wiped her tears as much as she could and went back inside. She opened the drawer she knew too well and pulled out the Calendula cream Bucky had bought specifically for her.

She carefully walked to Bucky. She didn’t want him to feel guilty so she made sure not to wince as she took her steps.

She had wanted this. She had asked for it because she had needed it and he only helped her. She wasn’t going to let him berate himself for that.

She left the cream on the coffee table and gently removed Bucky’s hands from his face, guiding him to rest his back on the couch so she could sit herself back across his lap.

Bucky stopped her, standing up to take his pants off so that the material wouldn’t rub against her sensitive skin.

She smiled, her heart lurching at his gentleness and thoughtfulness.

He let her manipulate him into position, closely watching her red-rimmed eyes and swollen nose and lips as she made herself as comfortable as possible on his lap, the new lashes covering her behind out of his sight for now.

Bucky hugged her close, his hands stroking up and down her bare back as she pushed her nose in its place in the crook of his neck, “thank you.” She breathed gratefully.

Bucky only patted her back, pulling her closer in reply. He knew she meant her thanks, but he was still mad at himself for doing it.

She pulled back and let him take her in for a second before leaning in, making Bucky swallow.

“Now fuck me,” she whispered on his lips, grinding down on his covered cock despite the pain it gave her every time she rubbed her inflamed skin on Bucky’s boxers.

“Doll, I think you’ve had enough for today,” Bucky sighed, softly trying to get her off of him.

“Please, just once. I won’t ask for anything else.” She pleaded, her hands clutching the material of Bucky’s tank top, not wanting to leave his lap.

She didn’t want to be away from him. She just got here.

“Doll, give me the cream so I can take care of you,” he demanded, trying to maintain a stern tone so she would listen.

“You can take care of me this way too!” She whined, needy and desperate as she ground herself harder, smiling when she found him hard beneath her.

“I can’t, doll. I can’t. You’re hurt.” Bucky shook his head, gently pushing her to the side and getting up before she could straddle him again.

“Please, Buck,” she croaked out, on the verge of crying again as she grabbed onto his waist, “please don’t walk away.”

“Do you promise not to try anything if I sit back down?” He asked although he knew the answer.

“But I need you!” Anguished tears rolled down her flushed cheeks, “just one orgasm. Please, just one.”

Her constant begging was making Bucky’s cock leak inside his briefs, hard as a rock as he tried his best not to give in.

He had missed her so damn much, but this wasn’t right.

“Doll, come on, quit it. You’re hurt—”

“I haven’t cum in three months.” She cut him off, sniffling as more tears left her eyes, “he— he couldn’t— please.” She begged yet again, her hands cravingly clawing at Bucky’s tank top, wanting him to be close again.

“What?!” Bucky sat back down, wiping her tears away as he took her back into his arms.

She nodded in shame as she cast her eyes down, burrowing her face in his shoulder, “he couldn’t make me cum”.

“Not even with his mouth?”

“Especially not with his mouth,” she muttered, hating the memory of a different man touching her.

“And you didn’t get yourself off?”

She shook her head, still embarrassed as she hid from him.

“Why not?!”

“Couldn’t touch myself without your permission.” She looked up to him, her teary eyes sincere.

Bucky let himself just look at her for a beat longer.

She was with another man that she supposedly wanted to be committed to, but she still followed Bucky’s rules during that relationship.

“I can make you cum, doll,” Bucky said, his gaze darkening, “but I have one condition.”

“Anything,” she whispered, desperate for his touch, his lips, his cock.

She had missed Bucky beyond compare.

“Allow me to break a rule.”

“What—”

“I need to kiss you, baby.”

She smiled, her heart relieved despite its fluttering as she answered by pressing her lips to Bucky’s.

He laid her on her back on his couch, careful not to rub himself against her lower region as he devoured her lips. Bucky sighed on her lips, the first taste always the best.

He hasn’t tasted those lips in nine months, since their very first time together. He remembered them tasting of beer back then, but today it was chocolate lacing her tongue.

It was Bucky’s turn to be desperate as he ate up her whimpers, his tongue dancing with hers as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to gobble her up, get as close to her as possible, taste every inch and swallow every whine.

He realized he couldn’t get as close as he wanted without his boxers scratching the welts on her sore skin.

Bucky pulled away for a second, leaving her to chase his mouth as he chuckled.

She whined, making grabby hands at him.

When he was done taking his boxers off, he got back on top of her, tenderly pushing her legs to her chest to keep them from bumping against the couch before slotting himself between her open legs as his mouth found its way back to hers.

“I can’t believe I let you take this away from me for so long,” he groaned, biting down on her lower lip.

She moaned in reply, pushing her hips up so she could get his cock to stroke against her.

She couldn’t believe she had deprived herself of those kisses either because she knew that she had fallen for the man anyways.

One swipe had Bucky hissing as he felt how wet she was under him. He has needed her for so long, not letting himself find any kind of relief with another woman in her absence.

“Do you want my fingers, doll?”

“No, no, gimme your cock, Bucky, please,” she pleaded, squirming on her back on the couch, pushing her hips up.

“I can’t do that, baby. You know it. It would be too much,” he sighed, his thumb stroking her cheek.

“Bucky, please. I can take it. I’ve taken worse!”

“I can’t. I can’t hurt you anymore, doll.” Bucky admitted, his hand sliding her hair behind her ear.

“Bucky,” she whined and his eyes gave her a firm look, making her shut up at once.

“It’s either my fingers or you get nothing, puppy. What do you want?”

“Your fingers, sir,” she replied obediently, pulling her legs further against her chest to give him all the access he would need.

“That’s a good puppy.” Bucky smiled, thumb circling her swollen clit.

“Please,” she breathed, already throwing her head back at the simple touch.

Bucky chuckled, though he was internally fuming at the fact that she was with a ‘man’ who didn’t make her cum for three whole months, “ready for the first one, puppy?”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly.

Bucky carefully slipped two of his metal fingers inside of her dripping cunt, groaning at the tightness he has missed so much, “I know this hand’s your favorite”.

“I thought you said one!” She moaned in surprise, pushing down on his fingers still.

“I meant first orgasm, puppy,” Bucky laughed, scissoring his fingers inside of her, opening her up exactly like he knew she liked.

And when he curled his fingers just right? She was wailing out the yes’s and thank you’s like it was the last time she would ever get fingered in her life.

“Fuck, baby, squeezing my fingers so hard already,” Bucky groaned, the tips of his vibranium fingers nudging her sweet spot with every indulging thrust, massaging and abusing until he saw her thighs quiver with her first orgasm.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed as Bucky let her come down from her high, fingers slowing down their movements without leaving her leaking pussy.

“Thank me when we’re done, doll.” He smirked, twisting his fingers inside of her.

Bucky got them out for a second only to slip back three fingers instead of two, feeling her cunt hungrily swallow them as she cried out at the delicious stretch.

He bit his lip, shaking his head as he got to business, “fuck, I’ve missed you so much”.

~

“How we feeling, puppy?” Bucky asked her as he saw her legs tense again.

“So good, so so good, sir. Thank you,” she sobbed in pleasure, feeling her thighs shake for the fifth time that afternoon.

“You’re such a good puppy, cumming so hard for me,” Bucky groaned, feeling the pull of her pussy as he tried to take his fingers out, moving them on her clit instead, “keep cumming baby”.

“I can’t take anymore. Please, I can’t.” She shook her head as she tried to squirm away from Bucky’s skilled fingers.

“Okay, okay,” Bucky chuckled, raising one hand up in surrender as his other went into his mouth.

She was gasping for air as she let her legs go, grimacing when her ass touched the couch. She raised her thighs back up, opening them when Bucky hovered over her body for another kiss.

His cock swiped against her sensitive pussy, making her clench when she felt how hard he was. Bucky was so hard it must be getting painful by now.

“Bucky, I can do one more,” she said against his lips.

“Oh you getting greedy on me, puppy?” Bucky smiled, instantly complying as he brought his hand down between their bodies.

She shivered at the mere tracing of his fingers on her pussy lips, “not with your fingers.”

“Come on now, baby, I thought we’ve already talked about this,” Bucky said, ready to pull away from her body.

“You don’t have to put it inside.” She held onto his waist with all her might, “just rub it on me. I can take that.”

“Baby,” Bucky hesitated, his resolve getting weaker as he imagined the feeling of her silky, drenched pussy under his cock.

“Please, Bucky, just rub it on my pussy. Use me. Make yourself cum.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Bucky whispered, getting hold of his cock.

He swiped the tip between the lips of her cunt, moaning lewdly at the feeling he had missed for months.

She was so wet, so sensitive and so soft.

Bucky was never one to cum fast; not after his very first time with her. But she looked so good under him, already fucked out of her mind. She felt even better and he could only handle so much.

He couldn’t believe she was going to make him cum this quick just by letting him nudge her pussy with the tip of his cock.

“Fuck, baby, this beautiful pussy’s gonna make me bust and I didn’t even get to fuck her!” Bucky groaned, feeling his abs get taut as he tried to hold off his orgasm for as long as physically possible.

He didn’t know where to look; she looked gorgeous everywhere and it was making it harder for him not to cum right then and then.

“I’m cumming,” she gave a shout before shaking underneath him for the sixth time.

“Fuck, yes, cum for me, doll.” Bucky groaned, squeezing at his base to hold his orgasm off.

“Slip the tip inside me, Buck,” she begged, still catching her breath and writhing underneath him needily as if he hadn’t just given her five mind-blowing orgasms on his fingers.

He shook his head, trying to focus on not cumming.

“Please, Bucky, just the tip.”

“Shit, don’t say stuff like that.” Bucky’s head tipped back as he closed his eyes for a second to keep from staring into her imploring ones.

“Please, Bucky. Give me your cum. I missed being filled up of your cum so much.” She begged further, “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I never doubted you, puppy.” Bucky opened his eyes, pressing his lips to hers at once.

“Then give it to me,” she moaned on his lips, holding his face close to hers by the cheek, “give me all of your cum, Bucky. Fill me up until I’m leaking all over myself and your couch.”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t hold back anymore. You wanna be filled up? I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, popping the fat tip of his cock inside her pussy.

She arched her back for Bucky, desperate to feel more of him, “thank you.”

She missed this cock stretching her to her limits so bad. She missed its girth and its veins and the hot cum it paints her walls with.

Bucky could all but let go at the first clench of her pussy, feeling his cum shoot inside of her until it had filled her up to the brim.

He watched her sigh in satisfaction, a smile spreading on her sweet face as Bucky’s hot load filled up her pulsating cunt.

Bucky reluctantly slipped out of her, watching his cum leak out of her ruined pussy, “oh thank you, doll.”

She couldn’t keep her thighs off the couch anymore, body limp and exhausted. She hissed once again when her raw skin touched the rough couch but didn’t pull her legs back up.

Bucky sighed, kissing her forehead lovingly before going to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her up.

He tried to be gentle as he moved around her skin, wiping away the cum and the sweat. He went to leave the cloth in the bathroom and when he came back, she was tiredly perching herself on his lap.

Bucky smiled, taking the calendula cream from the coffee table to finally rub some against her marked butt and thighs. Aftercare was the most important part and he wasn’t about to forego it.

“How the hell did he fail at making you cum?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask as his palm rubbed circles on her sore skin.

“I guess it was me and my unorgasmable pussy.” She chuckled, making Bucky even madder at the man.

He had caused her to think there was something wrong with her and her body?

“Seems pretty orgasmable to me, doll. He’s the one with a broken penis.” Bucky grunted, focusing on keeping his touch gentle on her skin.

“Could make the other girl cum just fine, so not that broken.” She mumbled into her forearms as she rested her chin on them, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

“What?”

Now Bucky really was angry.

“He cheated on me.”

Her voice was so sad, so shattered.

“Doll,”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if there was even something to say to make this better.

“Yeah, found them together in his bed and everything. They do try to cover up with the white bed sheet just like the movies.” She chuckled again.

She was making jokes, trying to make light of her pain like she always would, but Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Doll, I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole.”

“It’s fine, really. Doesn’t come as a surprise to me that I wasn’t enough for him.”

“It isn’t fine and you are enough. You’re everything.”

“Bucky, you don’t have to—”

“Be my girl.”

“What?” Her head whipped back so fast, thinking she must have imagined the words.

“Forget about the rules and the deal and forget about our fears. Be my girl, doll,” Bucky repeated.

“Buck, I—”

“I know I’m messed up beyond repair, but if there’s one thing I can’t mess up, it’s loving you, doll. And if I suck at it, let me die trying my best for you.”

“Why’d you have to go and talk about dying now!” She sat back up, not waiting for her skin to fully absorb the cream as she straddled him again.

Her body was hot all over as she took it his words; words she had imagined him saying while standing alone in the shower so many times before that she’d lost count.

“Be my girl.” Bucky smiled, “let me love you like you deserve, doll.”

“You—”

“Yes. I love you,” Bucky admitted, shrugging, his blunt nails clawing at the small of her back nervously.

“You love me love me?”

“I love you love you.” His palms flattened against the small of her back as he nodded with a bigger smile.

“I love you love you!” She exclaimed angrily, “why didn’t you say anything!” She punched Bucky’s chest.

“Ow!” Bucky laughed, holding her hand midway before she could hit him again, “I didn’t think I deserved you.” He kissed her fist.

The gesture left her quiet as a smile formed on her face despite herself.

She cupped Bucky’s cheek and kissed his lips softly, “you’re an idiot.”

“Still think I don’t deserve you, doll. But I can’t pretend like I’m not madly in love with you anymore.”

He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, shocked.

“Bucky, what are you talking about? If anything, I don’t deserve you!”

“Baby, you deserve the whole world.”

“I don’t want the whole world!” She threw her hands in the air, “just one idiot who would hold me on his lap after a good spanking,” she mumbled shyly, making Bucky laugh.

“This one idiot is all yours if you’d have him, doll.” Bucky’s smile was for once reaching his eyes as he brought her in for another kiss.

“I love you,” she repeated, throwing her body around his, holding him tight, fearing it might be a dream.

“I love you too, baby. I don’t deserve you but fuck I love you so much it keeps me up at night like a teenager,” he confessed in her hair, his big hand pressing her closer to him.

“Stop saying that.” She looked him in the eyes, “you deserve everything good in this whole universe and then some. I just hope I could be enough.”

“Could be enough— doll, you’re enough. You’re just right. The exact amount. You’re it. You’re the best for me and the only one I want.”

She didn’t know what to say to that so she put her lips on Bucky’s again and let the kiss demolish her fears and insecurities.

She was in Bucky’s arms and she was enough. She was safe and loved.

This was Bucky. Bucky, who was never intimidated by her professional success. Bucky, who has met her at her worst. Bucky, who has never done her wrong. Bucky, who has gotten to see the real, raw her and never turned away.

It was in that very moment that she realized that running away from Bucky to find love with other men was the worst crime she had committed against herself because now the mere idea of being out of this man’s arms and heart was too illogical and incredulous to even consider.

“I love you,” Bucky repeated on her lips as they caught their breaths.

And she could see it all in his loving, blue eyes as they adored every inch of her face: she was home and she was never getting lost again.

~

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