#someone asking me for giffing tips really made my night THANK YOU

[ultralightpoe]

Full House lll - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Omg. Me? Staying on schedule? Never.

Word Count: 10112

Warnings: None? Idk.

Part One HERE and Part Two HERE

(Thank you for the gif @psychecreations )

Enjoy!

“When’s the first doctors appointment?” Nancy asks, walking up to where you were currently standing at your jobs wait station. You jump, dropping the order pad you had been scribbling in as you turn to find her leaning on the wall. 

“What? Why are you here?” 

“I was craving chicken and didn’t want to hear Steves kfc imitation. So we decided to come here.” She smiles, rubbing her stomach ever so slightly. “Plus it meant I got to check on you.” 

“Oh I’m fine.” You lie, forcing a smile on your face as she narrows her eyes. 

It’s been 4 days since the Christmas fiasco, and 4 days since you realized Eddie was leaving. You tried to pick yourself back up the day of Christmas but ended up telling everyone that you were really sick and should shut the party down early. They had all gone to Steves and you were truly embarrassed to think of what they might have been saying about you. 

God, did you have to ruin everything you touched? 

“You never answered my question.” 

“Oh? I was just sick. It’s not a serious bug or anything. I just didn’t want to get you guys sick on Christmas. That would have been bad” you lie again, feeling a coiling feeling in your gut. “Why don’t you go sit?” 

“Y/n, girl I love you. But you’re showing.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too. Especially in this waitressing uniform.” It was true. Normally the old school 70s uniform fit you like a glove, falling just to your thighs and it made tips so much easier. Right now? It was on the tighter side…… which made tips even easier because your boobs looked great but you felt terrible about everything. 

“Does he know?” Nancy asks, and you have to stop yourself from telling her or shove off. After a moment of silence she seems to take that for an answer. “Y/n….. Eddie needs to know.” 

“Why? So I can trap someone else?” You laugh bitterly. “That poor guy has already put up with enough of my shit. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go grab tables.” 

You walk past her, not giving her a chance to argue as you completely avoid looking to their tables direction and move to your own section of the floor to greet a new table. 

Pam, one of your favorite regulars, sees you and greets you with a smile. “You never work Friday nights!” 

You always spent Friday nights with Eddie and the girls for movie night. But Eddie ran and you needed to make rent so tonight Max was watching them. 

“Starting now I will be. You want your usual babe?” 

“You know it!.” She giggles. 

-

Steve tried saying bye before they left and you pretended you didn’t see him as you took orders, by the end of the night your feet were killing you and you all but limped inside to where Max was sitting at the table doing college homework with her headphones on. 

Either she didn’t have them loud or she was on edge, your guess being a bit of both, she knows you're there and turns to you when you enter the kitchen. 

“Thank you so much Max.” You mumble, pulling out the tip money you had set aside for her. “I’m sorry I ran late.” 

“No need to pay.” She smiles, pushing the money away. “I like spending time with them.” 

That tight feeling in your stomach is back, digging in as you stare at the redhead. She had been part of the reason you chose Hawkins, Billy had (in one of his rare good moments) described the way Max seemed to blend in and find a home here. He told you about the friends she made and how she managed to grow into a brave person and you wanted that for your own. So, assuming she was gone, you moved out here. Little did you know you find her soon enough along with an entire group of people connected to your ex. 

You had always been told max was dead. 

Max had always been told Billy was dead. 

You didn’t know how she figured you out until Eddie told you about VECNA and Lucas told you about his girlfriends sight for things. 

“I…. I saw the tickets.” She admits, blush traveling her cheeks as you move to make a cup of tea. The cupboard was still broken and you couldn’t bear to look at it. 

“What tickets?” 

“You left your folder out on the table. I saw that you were figuring out where to go.” Max admits and you can’t help but tense. 

“I just….. I don’t want the girls being surrounded by…..” 

“Billy?” 

“Yes…..” you admit, still keeping your back to her as you boil water. “And Eddie. I just don’t want them knowing that he left them. They adore him too much.” 

Coward. Coward. COWARD. 

“I’m not a mom, but I can get your urge to protect them.” Max mumbles. “But what if they end up hating you for taking them away.” 

“Then they have someone to blame. I’d rather them blame me than themselves. It is my fault anyways.” You admit, tears springing into your eyes. “Anyways. Take the money, go have fun.” 

“Do you need me again this week? I saw that you work on New Year’s Eve.” 

“No. You should be going out with your friends.” 

“The boys have a start of the year campaign and El is taking a trip with Hopper. I’m free.” She laughs, trying to break the tension built up. “I’ll be here at 2.” 

You can’t get the words thank you out because of how tight your throat is, so you just mouth them as she grabs the money and passes. 

-

Steve could not stop laughing when he saw Eddie’s face the day he brought the car into the shop, leaning over on his knees to catch his breath as he wheezed out. 

Dylan, the other mechanic, kept looking over to watch the scene unfold as Eddie tried to focus on his friends car. 

“Harrington.” 

“Dude I know- it’s just that your face is so purp-hahaha.” Another fit of laughter and Eddie is debating throwing his drill at him. He was in no shape to be dealing with him today. 

Truth was Eddie had barely gotten a wink of sleep, he couldn’t manage to. Not used to not having you beside him, or not having the girls night light and soft lullabies. It had been 5 days since he saw you and he was beginning to lose his mind and resolve. 

Almost every night he nearly talked himself into going back, then he remembered Motleys broken cries as they carted him off and the way she clung to your hip. The way she screamed for her dad as Eddie attacked him. 

Monster monster monster. 

“Gotta give it to Hargrove. He knows how to punch.” 

“Yeah well, hope he had his fun.” Eddie snaps, leaning back to make sure he adjusted the part correctly. 

“Did you get him back?” 

“I got a few licks in.” Eddie mumbles, feeling guilty about the pride that washes over him as he remembers the way he beat Billy's face in. That was motleys dad. As much as he enjoyed hitting him he probably just scarred the Metalhead for life. 

“Oh a few licks.” Steve scoffs, moving to take a seat on the stool at Eddie’s workstation. “I know how strong you are Munson. You got more than a few licks in.” 

“I shouldn’t have.” 

“Why the hell not?” 

“Because Motley was right there! She’s gonna hate me forever.” Eddie scoffs. 

“Oh you mean more than they already do?” This pulls Eddie’s attention, he had been doing so good about not asking but he was dying to know. What had they said? Were they happy he’s gone? Mad that he fought Billy? 

“What’d they say?” 

“Not much of anything. Nancy knows something is up but your girl is keeping her lips sealed pretty well. I didn’t even know about your fight with jackass until I saw your face.” 

“But you said they were mad.” 

“Yeah man, you missed Christmas and just dipped. Leaves a bad impression.” 

“Oh whatever. They are better off, I just ruin everything.” 

“Oh. My. God.” Steve gasps, looking at Eddie like he’s figured everything out. “You’re self sabotaging!” 

“What?!”

“Yeah! You think you’re the bad guy and so you’re trying to run away which is just making you even more of a bad guy which means my wife can stop threatening to shave your head.” 

“I….. no man you don’t get it.” 

“I do get it. I get it more than anyone else and let me be the first to tell you that you’re being a massive idiot.” He sighs, standing up. “Motley was waiting by that window to spot you that entire day.” 

“S……she was?” 

“Yeah Munson. She was.” 

“I just….. I don’t want to be the one holding them back. I don’t want her to hate me.” 

“Did you ever think that maybe Motley chose you? Like you chose Wayne?” Steve asks, watching Eddie deflate before his eyes before turning to the car. “I’m not paying by the way. Consider my advice enough.” 

“Ass.” 

- 

Eddie spends the day of New Year’s Eve by the phone, fighting the urge to call. 

What would he say? How would he explain? 

No. Don’t call. This is for the better. 

Yes. Call. Just pick the phone just for the chance to hear your voice. 

God damn when did life get so complicated?

“What are you doing?” Wayne asks, watching eddie from his spot on the couch. “Quit wearing down my carpet.” 

The carpet has been worn down since Eddie had moved in, but he chooses not to comment instead he sits by the phone, keeping his pinky on the handle of the plastic and glaring at it. 

“You expecting a call?” 

“No.” Eddie groans, rubbing his chest to try and relieve some of the pain built up. God he missed you guys. “Fuck. I’m gonna go smoke.” 

He rushes to the back porch before Wayne could argue, hearing the old man laugh as he slams the door. 

There is a dog out there when he exits, chewing on a stick found from the trees and sitting right by the fence. Upon looking a little closer he sees that the dog actually seems caught under the fence, like he was trying to sneak in. 

“Jesus.” He murmurs, keeping the joint between his lips as he walks up, socked feet stepping on sticks and stones making him grunt out and try walking on his tippy toes. 

He looks back with a smile, expecting a giggle from one of the girls at his weird walk before he realizes he’s alone. Shit. 

The dog is panting patiently when Eddie comes up, and the man reaches a hand to let him sniff before moving to help. The dog chooses to kiss at his arm, tongue lapping at the skin as Eddie lifts the fence to try and help free him. 

“Why you sneaking in pal?” He grunts, bending the fence. “You hungry?” 

Within moments the dog is out, jumping up and kissing at his face for being rescued. “God. Motley would love you.” 

-

“Shhhhh Ziggy.” Motley whispers to her baby sister, pulling her closer to the corner. The way daddy eddie set up her room was perfect. 

He had put her bed in the center which left a small corner by her nightstand hidden from the door. 

Over the past week she had looked for Daddy Eddie’s number, finding it sprawled under the label emergency numbers where he had written it under Wayne. 

It was so weird that Daddy Eddie called his dad Uncle Wayne. Adults were so confusing. 

Before you had left for your shift that night you made sure to wish Motley a happy new year and made her promise to behave. Little did you know that she had crossed her fingers behind her back. 

The second you were gone she dashed to grab the closest phone, pulling it into her room and hiding it as Max struggled to cook nuggets for dinner. 

Later that night when Auntie Max was reading on the couch Motley tiptoed to Ziggys room before sneaking her sister out of her crib and tip toeing back as Ziggy giggles happily. 

“Sissy…” She giggles, pulling at Motleys cheeks happily. “Zigsy.” 

“No your Ziggy silly. I’m motley.” She corrects as she shuffles with her sister in an awkward half hold half walk carry until they are in the corner. “Okay Ziggy. Sissy needs your help. You remember the plan?” 

“Zigzy!” 

“Oh boy…..”

-

The phone rings late, and Eddie sits up in the couch to lean his upper body to answer it, stressed and annoyed. 

The stray dog lifts their head, huffing at being woken up and tilting to hear, one ear shooting up. “Easy Zeppelin.” 

The dog barks, and Eddie likes to think he enjoyed the name as he picks the phone up. “Munson residence.” 

God it felt weird saying that again.

“DADDY!” Motley whispers, sounding scared. Eddie is instantly up, standing on his feet and swiping at his face to wake up a little more. 

“Motley? What’s wrong baby?”

“Someone’s trying to get in daddy.” 

“Get in where? Where are you?” He’s already reaching for his keys, heart beating through his ears as his hands shake. 

“We’re at home.” She whines. 

“Where’s mommy?” 

“At work!” Fuck. “Okay. Okay. Just hide. Just like daddy told you, remember? If anything happens, hide. You know where Ziggy is?” 

“She’s with me.” 

“Good girl. Get under your bed or in your closet. I’ll be right there.” He mumbles, calling out to Wayne to grab the phone before booking it out of the trailer. 

He gives no time for the van to warm up, tearing out of the trailer park so quickly he’s sure he hit someone’s patio chair, mumbling under his breath a panicked “fuckfuckfuck” 

-

The van is uneven as Eddie pulls in quickly, shifting gears to park so hard it makes a grinding sound before he is swinging the door open and tearing out. His feet hit the gravel before the grass as he rushes to the front door, using his shoulder to shove it open harshly. 

A scream tears out in to the air at his entrance before a book is thrown at him which makes him yell out at whoever is in the house. 

“EDDIE?!” 

“MAXINE?!” He snaps, blinking at her. “What the fuck you doing?” 

“What am I doing?! What are you doing?! You physco!”

“Motley said that someone was trying to break in!” 

“I put Motley to bed an hour ago.” Max grunts, confusion lacing her features. 

“You’re babysitting?” 

“Obviously.” 

“But her car is in the front.”  Eddie felt like he was going crazy. “And since when does she work nights?!” 

“Her car wouldn’t start so she took the bus today.” Max sighs, rolling her eyes. “And she needs extra cash. Probably for the plane tickets to get out of here.”

“Tickets out of….” Before Eddie can process her words any further there is a small pair of eyes looking around the corner drawing his attention. 

Ziggy moves quickly, coming around the corner with a very excited giggle, walking to him as fast as her little feet would allow. “Da-Ed-ay!”

“Hey there baby girl.” He smiles, picking her up and swooping her into his arms to kiss all over her face. It was odd, just how much he missed this and it seemed like she had gotten so much bigger in the 4 days he missed. 

“I swear to god I put her to bed. How did she get out of her crib?!” Max glares, right as the culprit behind it all comes rushing out to run at Eddie. 

“I knew you’d come! I knew it daddy!” She giggles, running at him and throwing her arms around him tightly. “You came back!” 

“Motley?” He starts, brain beginning to process what she was saying. “Did you…. Lie to get me here?” 

“I did!” She smiles, peering up at him with big doe eyes. “I lied daddy! And now you’re here and you can take all my Barbie’s!” 

“If you know lying is bad and you’ll get punished, why did you do it?” He asks, pulling her off before squatting to her level. “Metal head, that was very dangerous-“ 

A gust of air leaves him as her arms wrap around his neck tightly, tears springing from her eyes. “I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.” 

“Motley I’m not mad, that was just dangerous and it scare-“ 

“No! About Billy. I’m sorry daddy.” His heart plummets, his brain racking to figure out what she was talking about. Why was she sorry? 

“No. No I’m sorry.” He sighs, turning to see Max staring at them intently. “Hey max. Think you can take Ziggy for a moment?” 

“Sure thing mop head.” The redhead scoops Ziggy up causing the young toddler to scream and kick, reaching chubby fingers out for Eddie. As much as he wanted to take her back he had to focus on Motley. 

“Come sit.” He nods his head, leading her to the kitchen table sitting in the chair beside hers and angling it so they were facing. “Listen….. Daddy ha- Well I have been feeling really bad about Christmas Eve. I never meant to do that, or to attack your dad in front of you.” 

“But-“ 

“I owe you a big apology for that Motley. And I don’t know what you’re feeling sorry about, pretty girl, but it’s not your fault and you have no reason to be sorry.” He murmurs, swiping the tears that fall from her cheek. “You have done nothing wrong.” 

“I told Billy he couldn’t come for Christmas Daddy!” She blurts, her tears hit against his thumb as he keeps swiping her cheek. “I’m sorry!” 

“No no no. You don’t be sorry.” He moves to pick her up, sitting her on his lap with her face pressed into his chest as he rubs his palm over her hair to try and soothe her. “Let’s just take a deep breath, okay? Then you can tell me what happened.” 

There’s something coiling in his gut at her tears. Pain, anger, sadness. He truly could not tell, but he kept her close and rocked her back and forth to let her cry. When she finally calmed down enough to talk she started telling him. 

“He was really mean daddy. And he kept t-telling me that y-you we’re gonna replace me-“ her body racks with sobs again. “He said you didn’t want me. A-and I was upset! But he w-was mean to you-“ 

“Easy.” He whispers, wiping her cheek once more. “You gotta breathe pretty girl.” 

“He was m-mean. Said mean things about you daddy and mean things ab- I’m sorry! I-“ her sobbing gets worse and Eddie shushes her, choosing to rock her back and forth and keep her in his tight embrace. “And you w-were ma-you were madatme.” 

“No no. I was never mad.” He sighs. “Daddy was never mad at you.” 

“You were.” 

“No, I was just scared. I…. Daddy didn’t want you hating him.” Eddie explains. “I just wanted to give you space. Having 2 dads is confusing. I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

“He hit you.” 

“Did he ever hit you motley?” Eddie asks sternly, squeezing her a bit in comfort. 

“He spanked me.” That feeling in his stomach settled on rage. 

“That’s not fair. And you shouldn’t have had to go through that.” 

“Please don’t leave again.”  As much as he wanted to promise her that he wouldn't, that wasn’t a promise he could make. You probably hated him, and he would have to talk this out with you first. 

“Let’s get you to bed yeah? Daddy will tuck you in.” 

“I want mama.” 

“Well she’s at work.” He mumbles against her hair. 

“Can we go get milkshakes?” 

“I don’t know…..” it was almost 10. Then again it was New Year’s Eve and he didn’t want you taking the bus home so this would give him an excuse to go pick you up. “Only if they have chocolate.” 

“You already know they have chocolate!” She giggles, and he can’t stop the way his heart seems to light up. 

-

It was a busy night, and the smell of the jalapeno nachos all your tables were ordering was making you nauseated and angry. You wanted to throw up, maybe cry, maybe throw up then cry. 

Apparently a town next to Hawkins lost power so a bunch of people were driving to this place to have a good new years which meant you were going to be stuck here forever. You found yourself stressing about the bus’ schedule as you dashed to run food. 

This is what you had been doing when you spotted him. Running a tray of jalapeño nachos to your table, keeping it a safe distance from your nose as you thought about the fact that you might have to walk, and there he was. 

Standing in the doorway, leather jacket and wide eyes, as you caught him looking for you. And he was holding Ziggy. 

What the fuck Maxine?! 

“Y/n get a move on!” Your manager calls and you snap out of it, moving to deliver the tray as the host seats Eddie. 

You hear Motley call out “mommy!” And instantly knew that they would now be sat in your section. Did it make you a bad mother if you admitted you would rather die than face him tonight? 

“Mama!” Your daughter calls, making you look over as she slides in, Eddie sitting right next to her and then you are forced to confront this. You should have learned about birth control. Better yet maybe you should have practiced the art of condoms more.  

Thinking of all the ways you could have prevented this situation as you gaze at your daughters adorable smiling face. God she was beautiful….. still should have used a condom. 

“What a surprise. I could have sworn I left you guys with Max.” You try to smile, avoiding looking at Eddie as Ziggy reaches for you. You grab her gently, bouncing her on your hip and she starts playing with your hair clip. 

“I got daddy!” Motley admits proudly, pointing to Eddie which makes you look at him. Your heart thumping against your chest, adrenaline rushing through you as he stares at you with those god damn brown eyes. 

“Munson.” You greet, turning back to Motley. “Girls, stay in the booth for a moment. Okay? I’m gonna talk to him outside.” 

You walk off after that, leaving Eddie no choice but to follow as he jumps up and runs to catch up. The winter hair hits you, and you immediately wrap your arms around yourself to keep some of the warmth, the crappy waitress outfit doing nothing for you. 

The second you hear your name fall from his lips you whirl, slapping him in the chest to push him back. “What the fuck is the matter with you munson?!” 

“I…. Give me a moment to explain, please.” 

“Explain?! EXPLAIN?!” A bitter laugh splits from your lips. “Look. I get it. My life was a bit too messy and fucked up, I’d run too. But you bringing the girls here is just making it worse. You’re going to get their hopes and it’s gonna crush them.” 

“Too messy? Who said anything about it being too messy?” 

“WHY ELSE WOULD YOU RUN?!” Your voice raises louder than you thought it would, but you don’t back down. “And I don’t appreciate you talking to my daughters without me. Now I gotta tell them-“ 

The words ‘my daughters’ sound wrong, and you can’t fight the disgust that coats you as you trail off, eyes widening as he stares back at you with a set jaw. “I just mean….. I get why you left okay? My life is chaos and you were really nice for staying and pretending like it was fine. But those girls…. They can’t know you left cause of that. I was hoping, as shitty as it sounds, that after a couple years they’d forget. Y’know?” 

You are swiping at your cheeks as tears stream down your face, trying not to look at him. You catch him moving up, his hands outstretched, but you move backwards so he can’t grab you. “Eds. Y-you should just go. Okay? It’ll be fine.” 

“No it won’t-“ 

“It will. I’ll be fine. I won’t be mad-“ then his arms are around you, pulling you in quickly as he shoves your head into his chest and you get to inhale his scent once more. Doing your best not to outright sob. 

“I was the mess.” He blurts. “I was scared, okay? I was scared that Billy was gonna turn everyone against me, and I was scared that I ruined Motleys Christmas.” 

You scoff, trying to pull away, not really believing the excuse. Before you can fully move he wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand moving to your jaw to drag your eyes up to his own. “I was scared. I was a coward.” 

“But-“ 

“No buts. I didn’t leave cause I thought you were a mess, baby I think you’re perfect and your daughters are so fucking precious to me. I…. You really thought I was running cause I couldn’t handle it?” 

“I just-“ 

“Y/n!” Your boss calls from the door, looking exasperated. “You gettin sick again? Need to go? Or you wanna get paid so you can afford maternity leave?” 

You tense again under Eddie’s touch, stomach curling as you try and take a step back while Eddie’s brows knit in confusion before he turns to glare at your boss. “She’s sick.” 

“Fine. Take her home. Just have to transfer tables.” The man snaps, turning to walk back in before Eddie is whirling on you. 

“Am I crazy or did he just say maternity leave?” 

“Eddie….” You sigh, feeling saliva build up as you panic. He watches you, taking a step back just as you lean forward to puke. 

- 

The car ride is silent. Not the serene kind of quiet and more so the anxiety inducing type. 

You had no clue what to say to him at this point. Suddenly everything just seemed to….. silly. You’re reaction and his reaction. You should have just called. Why hadn’t you called? 

No, he should have called. 

You were being a decent person and giving him space and “mama?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?” 

“Ya!” Ziggy yells, making Eddie chuckle under his breath as he leans to turn the heater in the car up. It had been forever since you had ridden in this van, since he deemed it unacceptable to drive the girls around in since it lacked seatbelts or a backseat. Even now everytime he braked he means a hand out to block the girls even with Ziggy in your lap. 

“I don’t know…” 

“Please! Please please.” 

“We will talk about it when we get home.” 

Only there was no talking about it, the second you got home with the girls Motley ran to throw away her to go milkshake cup then dashed to your bed quickly which turned into a screaming fit when you tried to tell her no. 

The word condom just kept circling your mind as you finally just told her to lay down, she did so and Ziggy soon made her appearance to crawl onto the bed. 

Eddie takes off his shoes. Moving to lay with the girls as you turn off one of the lights so the room was dark enough for them to fall asleep, and then you shuffle to the bathroom to shower before bed so you didn’t smell like grease and beer. 

It wasn’t even 10 minutes before you heard the door open and shut softly, you turn already knowing he is heading for the shower and watch as the curtain opens lightly. 

Normally he would jump right in like he belonged there which would make you laugh, tonight he had a questioning gaze, trying not to over step. You give him a small nod and then the curtain is pushed aside and he dives in, still in his shirt and jeans. 

“Edward-“ you warn before his lips are on yours in a searing kiss. He keeps one hand on your jaw to keep your lips connected as his other wraps around your back to keep you close as the water runs over both of you getting his clothes soaked. By the time you pull back he’s already working his way down your neck with kisses as you earn him again “clothes.” 

The hand holding your jaw moves to cover your mouth quickly as he peers at you, giving you a fake angry expression that has you laughing. “Do not wake our kids.” He whispers before stepping back to undress. 

The jeans take a moment to shuck off since they were wet but the second he is free Eddie dives for you again, showing up just how much he missed you. 

-

You sit with him on the floor of the kitchen by the fridge, using the light above the oven as your only source of light while you both snack, keeping cuddled together in nothing but your robes. 

Nothing has been said yet, and you were just fine with that, exhausted and happy that he was there. But he has to ruin it, of course he does. 

“I’m still sorry.” He murmurs, scraping the cream of one side of an Oreo using the empty side. 

“I am too. I think we’re both incredibly stupid right now.” 

“You’re telling me.” He blushes. “I just…. There was a time in my life when I hated Uncle Wayne. I had this image in my mind that he was trying to tear me away from my dad. Fuck I just wanted to be with my dad, I looked up to him whether he beat me or not and- the way I treated Wayne and the way I hated him….. my dad didn’t help, everytime I went back with him my mom and I just ended right back up at Wayne’s with more bruises than last time. And when she passed I was the only one there to inflict it. Wayne for him arrested and I swore my world was ending, swore I would never talk to Wayne again.” 

“You thought that was what was going on with Motley? That she felt like you were tearing her and her dad apart?” 

“Yes and no. I just was trying to prevent that from happening, I didn’t want her to have to experience that choice.” He whispers, picking at the robe. “I just wanted to protect her.” 

“She wanted to protect you too.” You whisper back. “That’s love.” 

“Billy told her that…. That I was gonna try and replace her.” He gulps, and you stop smiling instantly. “And now that you’re pregnant, and as happy as I am because I am so happy, I need to make sure she knows that I’m not trying to replace her.” 

“We’ll make it work.” You mumble, laying your head on his shoulder. “We always do” 

He hums out, laying his head on top of yours and sitting in the silence for a moment before you break it once more. “Where are your rings?” 

“Haven’t worn them since I got arrested.” He answers, holding up his bare hands. “My fingers were too bruised and swollen at first, then I just couldn’t care to put them on.” 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let’s go to bed..” 

“Give me five more minutes.” He whispers, turning his head to kiss your own, keeping his nose pressed into your hair. 

“Why?”

“I just…. I just want to be near you for a little longer.” 

- 

The sun peaks through the curtains, hitting Eddie right in the face which in return makes him groan out, moving the pillow around to try and block it. I’m his attempt to move Ziggy wiggles around, giving a displeased noise that her dad woke her up from sleeping before moving to lay right on his chest. 

Motley does not move an inch, mouth wide open and eyes sealed shut, Eddie has to reach a hand out to poke her and make sure she’s not dead. 

She wrinkles her nose, moving closer and shoving her face in your pillow, staying peacefully asleep. 

You’re sitting at the edge of the bed, and he can only blink at you trying to straighten his eyesight as he watches you zip up your work boots. (For some reason I imagine go go boots with the 70s look. I don’t know guys. I….. I have no clue). 

“You going to work?” He blurts, making you jump. 

“Sorry, yeah. Max will be here soon to watch the girls. We agreed on it last night before I left.” You mumble, moving to grab your apron. 

“I can watch em….” He whispers, staring at you. The way the sun from the window hits you makes you look angelic. 

“Okay.” You smile, moving to kiss Motley and Ziggys heads before you move to walk away. Fully offended Eddie snatches your hand and draws you back, annoyed at the shit eating grin on your face. 

“Baby,” he whines making you let out a small laugh and lean down to kiss his lips before rushing to leave. 

He lays with the girls for a little longer making sure the blanket is covering all three of them before the day truly has to start and he forces himself to get up. Setting Ziggy down without waking her up was a difficult task but he managed, shuffling to the bathroom to change into todays clothes, thankful that he no longer has to wear all the shit clothes he left at Wayne’s when he originally moved out. 

Upon exiting the bathroom he nearly trips over Motley, who had been sitting in front of the door. “What are you doing Metalhead?” 

“You took forever…” she whines, wrapping herself around his calf which makes him smile. “I wanna stay with you.” 

“Okay,” he answers, moving down to peel her off his leg and letting her climb up for a piggy back. “You’re gonna help me make breakfast then.” 

“Waffles?” 

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” He smirks, walking down the hall as the front door opens to reveal Max. 

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” She rushes out, face red from running. “I woke up a little late and-“ 

“It’s no problem. I’m here if you had other things to do.” Eddie offers. “Or you can stay and have some breakfast?” 

“Sounds great. I’m kinda ignoring the rest of the group right now.” She explains, setting her bag down and following them into the kitchen. Eddie gets Max set up at the table, trying to set Motley with her but the girl wiggles and whines so he allows her to stay. 

He listens to Max rant about the group as he moves around to make waffles, enjoying the easy feeling he gets being here. God why did he ever leave home? 

“-And Lucas is just always set out to fight Erica. You’d think he had a crush on Dustin and wanted to date him. You know? I get it, your baby sister starts dating your closest friend. A little weird. But get over it!” 

“I think Uncle Dustin and Auntie Erica are so cute!” Motley adds which makes Eddie chuckle a bit. 

“Lucas is upset because he always thought they were in agreement that Erica was annoying.” He explains, bending down to set Motley down and bring the food to the table. “But it’s been months. Time to move on.” 

“Exactly!” Max sighs right as Ziggy comes pounding in with an angry look.

“Alone….” She whines and Eddie smiles at her. “Aweee did you wake up alone? My poor little baby.” He coos, picking her up and bringing her close to kiss before setting her on his lap to help her eat. He already knew she would not be into the high chair based on the way even Motley was clinging to him. 

Even now, as she used a spoon to shove waffles in her mouth, she kept a hand on his own arm to keep him close. 

“I’m gonna work on mamas car today.” He explains. “I��ll be right outside. So maybe you girls can stay in here and keep Max company.” 

“I wanna stay with you.” Motley whines, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

“No it’s too cold. You stay in here. Okay?” And then Eddie gave her his puppy dog eyes. Oh yeah, can’t beat dads game. 

She groans and looks at Max who smiles in return. “I’ve been practicing my barbie voices just for you.” 

“Fine! But barbie is married to G.I. Joe! Ken is the villain. We’re not arguing about it again.” 

“But isn’t it Barbie and Ken? Wouldn’t Joe be the villain?” 

“Maxine.” Motley warns, slamming her tiny hand on the table. 

“Fine. Got it.” 

-

It didn’t last long. 

Eddie had put on his mechanic suit, trying to keep warm as he took a look at what was going on with your car. 15 minutes in Motley came out wearing her snowsuit and smiling. “Look daddy! I can help!” 

“I thought I said to stay inside-“ a laugh breaks out when she takes off the hood of the snow suit to reveal that she tied a bandana over her head like a hat. “That’s not how you tie it. Come here.” 

He helps her tie it like his, telling her to sit a little closer to the grass as he keeps working, making sure the radio is on a station she would like as he does so. 

By the time you get home she is making snow angels in the snow of the lawn as he curses under his breath. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, making him jump and hit his head on the hood of your car. “Oh! I’m so sorr-“ 

“It’s good. I’m good.” He laughs, letting you fuss over him anyways. He takes his chance to kiss at you before you are pulling back. 

“You are covered in car nastiness-“ 

“You mean grease and oil?” He laughs, keeping you trapped in his arms to rub his cheek on your shoulder. You yell out playfully, still trying to escape as he does so. 

“Does this mean you guys are good?” Steve appears, dustin behind him. “Are you done being mad at me Y/n?”

“I was never mad at you!” Eddie keeps his arms around you as you turn to look at Steve, making sure Motley is good. 

“Yes you were. I waved at you the other night and you completely ignored me.” 

“I didn’t see you wave.” You reply and Eddie can’t help but laugh. 

“I called your name!”

“It was a busy restaurant, how am I supposed to hear everything.” You scoff, pulling from Eddie’s arms and flipping your hair. “Come on Motley. Let’s go inside.” 

“Just admit you saw me wave!” Steve groans, following you to the door before Motley turns to shove him and close the door in his face. “Rude!” 

“Steve, did you just get beat up by a kid?” Dustin laughs. 

“It’s Eddie’s kid. Does that count?” 

“My kids are great!” 

- 

Things took a moment to get back to normal, but that was to be expected. 

Eddie found the folder of all your research on places to go, running his fingers over the math you sprawled across the pages to figure out how you would afford it, he promptly threw it in the trash bins outside. 

Motley stayed glued to Eddie as much as she could, and in the mornings when he had to get up for work she made sure to wake him up and give him a kiss by the door making sure that he swore to come back before she would dash down the hall and lay with you. 

Makeup Christmas happened, except it was only Wayne that was invited and instead of a whole feast you guys ordered a crap ton of Chinese food. 

Wayne came over early, sneaking around the back and coming in through the back door which confused the girls to no end but they were excited to see their grandpa. 

Ziggy also proved that she learned 2 more words by saying “shit grandpa!” All excited and reaching her hands up for him to grab her. 

He howls with laughter, scooping her up and throwing her in the air as she screams in excitement. 

Everyone sits around the tree opening gifts, Wayne on the couch with Ziggy on his lap helping her open the gifts. Eddie sat by the tree, passing them out with Motley right by him and you next to her. 

He pulls out an envelope that has his name sprawled on it and looks at you. 

“I had a plan for Christmas. But I kind of had to redo it. I planned on giving you the stick, but figured since you already know I’d get the ultrasound.” Yoh blush, watching his excitedly tear it open. 

It’s quiet for a moment as everyone watches him admire the photo, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Anything you notice?” You ask, waiting. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, before Wayne snaps his fingers and grabs the photo gently. 

“There’s two.” Wayne grunts before his eyes light up. “You’re having twins!” 

“Obviously….” Eddie mumbles, “we already knew that?” 

“What?” 

“The stick? It had two blue lines? So that means we’re having twin boys? Right?” Eddie mumbles, staring at you like your crazy. 

It’s quiet for a moment as you and Wayne process what he said before you burst into laughter, the girls following even though they had no clue what was going on. 

“Not even close boy!” Wayne cackles as you have to wipe some of the tears from your eyes. 

“Does that mean you’re pregnant mommy?” Motley asks, turning to look at you with wide eyes. Your heart stops, going back to what Eddie had told you. 

“Yes. Mommy is pregnant .” You wait to see her reaction and Eddie finds himself reaching for the gift he had added two days ago. “Motty. I have something for you.” 

He snatches the tiny box, holding it out to her. “It’s a really important gift though. Okay?” 

She nods slowly, taking the box from him and opening it just as slow. Inside held a simple chain necklace, but when she pulled it out it revealed that he had hung his mothers ring on it, the one he normally wore on his right hand by itself. “I was told to give this ring to someone very special. It’s from my own mom.” 

She gasps, turning to him. “You’re giving it to me?!” 

“Well yeah! You’re my oldest kid. My firstborn.” He laughs, moving to help her put it on. Then he snatches another box and hands it to her. “This one is for both you and your sister.” 

She reaches for it and opens it gently, pulling out a heavy chain that has a dog tag connected to it. “Another necklace?” 

“Well…..” Wayne laughs, flipping it to reveal what the dog tag says. 

“Who is Zeppeplin?” 

“Zeppelin, baby.” You correct, already standing up. 

“Who is Zeppelin?” She giggles, which makes Eddie laugh, picking her up by her armpits to make her stand as you go and open the back door. 

The dog, a young little puppy at most, snaps his head to the noise and wags it’s tail excitedly upon seeing you. 

“Come in!” You smile and he bolts from his spot tearing up sticks to get inside. Once he hits the threshold of the house he is everywhere. Sniffing the fridge to the chairs, jumping on his hind legs to clean up the high chair where Ziggy left her banana. After inhaling that he bolts to explore more, completely missing the living room as he bolts down the hall to sniff all the rooms. 

Once Motley sees the flash of fur she screams in excitement, which draws the puppy back and they both just feed off each others excitement. 

She’s jumping up and down, screaming in excitement and the dog starts howling to match her while his butt starts wiggling at how hard he is wagging his tail. 

“I am so excited for Chinese later.” Wayne murmurs, coming to hug you as Eddie tries to calm both the noisemakers down. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

“Of course, you’re grandpa.” You smile, watching Ziggy from his arms just stare intently at the scene before her. “She can’t tell whether to be excited or scared.” 

Wayne laughs, pointing to the dog and trying to help Ziggy see him. 

Later that evening everyone sits around the table, Max with you all, as you pile Chinese food onto the plates. Motley keeps showing Max the necklace she got while Wayne keeps bragging to Eddie about his new Jean jacket. 

Zeppelin chooses to sit by Ziggy, and it’s very clear that the dog has already figured out who will drop the most food. Ziggy giggles every time she drops a piece of broccoli and he catches it. 

“Now we’re gonna have to watch her every time we give her veggies.” Eddie groans. “She’s got an accomplice!” 

“Zeppy and Ziggy!” Motley cheers like their superheroes. 

- 

February rolls around soon enough, and your daughters biggest catastrophe had nothing to do with the restraining order on Billy, or her dads new bike (which she was terrified of). No. Motleys world was ending over valentines cards. 

Eddie had helped her pick them out, little heart shaped cards that you could stick lollipops in, and had sat with her to write in them as you took Ziggy in for a haircut. 

The only one that Motley had not written a card for was Troy, and now the morning of Valentine’s Day she was still panicking. 

“I can’t write love cause then he will want to get married!” She explains and Eddie nods like it’s super serious. “And I can’t write like, because then he will know I have a crush on him!” 

“Glad you can admit it.” He nods and she rolls her eyes. “Here’s an idea! Okay, you ready metal head?” 

“Ready daddy!” 

“You can write ‘from Motley’.” He laughs, watching her face go serious. 

“That’s what I wrote on the others!” 

“Exactly.” He watches as she thinks about it before nodding quickly and writing it down, tossing it in her valentines box and dashing to grab her backpack. 

“She finally figure out Troys?” You ask, shuffling Ziggy in. “It’s been days.” 

“She did. We decided on writing ‘from motley’.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you before leaning down to kiss your stomach then Ziggy. 

“Stevie….” Ziggy giggles, running to the phone. It didn’t take long to figure out that she would be the one to run the phone bill up, even now she spent every morning learning to dial her uncle Steve’s number. She dialed Dustin once but deemed him “poopoo head.” 

“Nuh uh. Come eat pretty girl.” Eddie calls, pointing to her chair. “Zeppelin is waiting.” 

The dog, who just a month ago had been tiny enough to lay under her chair, now sat at full height beside it. Still a puppy, just bigger.  

Ziggy runs, her little pigtails bouncing as Eddie picks her up by the overalls to sit her in the chair. Now trained Ziggy eats his dog food beside her rather than everything she drops, and if somehow someway some of her waffle drops in his bowl then it can’t really be considered his fault. 

“Motley, hurry up baby.” You call. “We gotta go.” 

“You good to pick Wayne up?” Eddie asks, moving to grab his lunch. 

“Yes. I’ll drop Motley off at school and go and grab him.” Wayne had injured his hip, so today you’ll be taking him to the doctors to see what the plan was while Eddie went to work. 

“Okay. And Ziggy is still good to-?” 

“Ziggy and Zeppelin are going to Nancy’s, yes.” You smile. Nancy had just given birth to her third boy, and she liked having Ziggy over because she liked having another girl in the house. 

“Okay. Tell me how it goes?” He asks, leaning to give you one more goodbye kiss as you nod before moving to say bye to Motley. “BYE BEAUTIFUL LADIES!” 

The day had started off so well, you should have known it would only go downhill from there. 

Wayne sat in the passenger seat of your car, irritated and ranting about shitty doctors. “I’m not doing it. You hear me? Just give me some Tylenol and I’ll be fine.” 

“MOMMY!” Ziggy screams, from her spot on her car seat. 

The doctor had told Wayne he needed hip surgery and could not work, which meant that Wayne was pissed and you were panicking about what to do. He couldn’t work which meant he wouldn’t be able to make rent and he would need some help to move around. Then when you got to Steve and Nancy’s she had told you that Ziggy had taken quite a stumble off the table and scratched her chin on the corner of the table. 

It was a mess. 

Both of them were not having a good day and Zeppelin was howling at their ranting and screaming and as much as you loved them you truly debated crashing the car. 

Then you got home to yelling. 

Eddie stood in the living room, still in his work attire with his hands on his hips and his eyes wide. “You’re in rare fucking form today, you know that?!” 

The response to his question is met with a demonic scream from down the hall and you can only assume that Motley was having a bad time as well. 

“I’m not getting a surgery, you hear me Edward?” Wayne snaps, limping to the couch. 

“What the fuck are you on now?” He snaps back, looking at him annoyed as Ziggy rushes past crying. “What the fuck is going on?” 

“It’s apparently a meltdown day.” You sigh, moving to kiss his cheek and go into the kitchen to make a snack for yourself. 

Todays pregnancy craving was potato chips with lime juice and pickles, Eddie watches from the entrance of the kitchen with a smile as you settle at the table and enjoy your snack. 

He moves and takes the seat next to you, following your lead on snacks. 

“Why is Metalhead in ‘rare fucking form’ today?” You giggle, watching his face pinch in annoyance. 

“I pick her up and she gets in the car, right? And then she just starts screaming at me! And I mean screaming. The entire ride home! And from what I gather Vinny didn’t give her a valentines card.” He explains. “God. She was yelling like she was possessed. Then I tried explaining that maybe it was lost and that made it worse.” 

“Did she get one from Troy?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t think she cares either.” He sighs, rubbing his jaw. 

“Okay, we let her ride out the fit in her room. We’ll call Steve later to see what happened.” 

“Sounds great to me.” He smiles. “She scared me a little. Threatened to cut her hair and everything. Then threatened to cut MY hair.” 

A small laugh tears from you as he steals the potato chip in your hand before looking to Wayne’s direction. “They recommend surgery?” 

“It wasn’t a recommendation.” You sigh, grabbing his hand and tracing the tattoo. “I think we need to move the house around.” 

“What?” 

“If Wayne gets surgery he needs to be here. I’ll cut back shifts at the diner and help him out.” You start. “He won’t be able to use the stairs so maybe we can move our room downstairs which would give more room for the twins cribs in our room, but Ziggy has problems with the stairs and she likes coming in to sleep with us cause of the nightmares but-“ 

“Easy. Easy.” Eddie mumbles, turning his hand up quickly to snatch your hand and pull it to his lips. “We’ll figure it out.” 

- 

And so you did. 

Eddie moved the house around, and turned the basement into a bedroom for you guys. Now with more room and your own bathroom down here he could set up the cribs. 

Wayne took your old room, and though the man threw a fit the girls got excited that Grandpa Wayne would be living here now. 

He got the surgery in the beginning of March, and Motley and Vinny were still fighting. 

You spent your days helping Wayne, taking him to pt and helping him move around the house. 

Motley and Vinny got put into separate classes which lead to a whole argument between Steve and Eddie about whose kid was the one to blame. 

Life was a bit of a mess. 

It all came to head at the children's father dance. 

Eddie had dressed in a tux, making sure he looked good as you got Motley ready for the night. With Wayne napping on the couch with Ziggy asleep on his chest drooling (a daily nap these two took) Zeppelin follows at your feet, keeping close to you as you did Motley's hair. 

“How do I look?” Eddie asks from the door of the bathroom. “I have a date tonight and I’m really nervous.”

“Daddy!” Motley giggles, rushing to him in her puffy little skirt, hugging him tightly. 

“Alright you two. Let me get a picture.” You smile, rushing past to find where the camera had gone. By the time you got a picture of them Motley was rushing Eddie out, ready for the dance. 

He struggles to find parking, and ends up finding one right next to Steve’s car, rolling his eyes when he sees Harrington fixing his jacket while Vinny reads in the car. 

“Harrington.” He greets coldly, fixing his leather jacket and moving to open the door for his daughter. 

“Munson.” Steve matches the tone, scoffing at Eddie’s jacket. “Little Munson.” 

“Uncle Steve.” She huffs, fixing her hair. 

“Really? A leather jacket Edward?” 

“You look like you stepped off a Queen music video, Steven.” Eddie snaps, holding out his hand for Motley. Fighting or not they wait at the front of the car for Steve and Vinny. Walking into the dance together. 

“I’m surprised that they even let you in here. Your child is a danger to society.” Steve snaps as they wait in line for tickets. 

“Let’s talk about your kid giving everyone but my sweet Angel a valentines card. That’s barbaric.” Eddie defends, watching Motley wave to her friends. 

“He didn’t want to. And I don’t need to tell him what to do.” Steve blushes, turning to look at something to avoid looking at Eddie. 

“There it is again. You’re acting so fucking suspicious about that card, man.” Eddie points at him, silver rings glinting in the light. “Tell me what you know.” 

“Tickets?” The poor woman asks, interrupting their stand off. 

“Yes please. Four.” 

“No two. I’ll get my tickets.” 

“No I’ll get them” 

“You’re not buying me ,Steven.” 

“He’s buying me.” Motley smiles, snatching the money from Steve’s hands and setting them on the table before grabbing two tickets. “Let’s go get some pop, daddy.” 

Eddie can do nothing but follow, letting the little lady lead the way. 

After about an hour of Motley showing him everything and introducing him to all her friends she abandoned him to hang out with some of the girls in her class, making sure Eddie was okay where he sat at an empty table nursing a can of soda. 

It felt like high school again, watching the way all the other dads surrounded Harrington as the pta moms that decorated huddled together and giggled in the corner. At least the kids were having fun. 

Eddie wished you were here, you would be sitting with him. 

“Jesus. Gary never shuts up.” Steve mumbles, snapping Eddie out of his train of thought. “I got you a slice of pizza.” 

He sets the slice down, giving Eddie a weird smile as he scarfs down his own slice. But eddie wasn’t very hungry, instead he surveyed to check on motley and see her giggling with all her friends as they dance in a circle. 

“Your kid has been sitting alone, you gonna help?” Eddie asks, looking to where Vinny sits reading a book. 

“I tried earlier. He just said something about me embarrassing him more.” Steve sighs. “Then complained that I ruin everything.” 

“What happened? I’ve never seen him alone at a party.” 

“Have I not told you? Your daughter is the popular one. They made her move classes and he was left in their old class struggling to make friends.” Steve mumbles. 

“Why don’t you get one of the many dads following you around to get their kids over there? It feels like I’m in highschool again, waiting for your cronies to shove me in the bathrooms and lock me in again.”

“How long were you in that bathroom, again? Two hours?” 

“Three.” Eddie sighs. “I smoked and set off an alarm so the principal found me.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Wasnt one of your worst. I was fine.” Eddie shrugs. “Sorry about Vinny.” 

“I have faith.” Steve sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I also cannot believe I’m at a daddy daughter dance.” 

“It’s a father kid dance?” 

“They didn’t want the boys feeling left out.” Steve explains. 

“I see.” Eddie smiles, picking at the pizza. 

“He wrote one. You know?” 

“Sorry?” 

“Vinny wrote one. He wrote a valentine for Motley and got her a big chocolate bar. But a girl made fun of him in the parking lot and he panicked.” Steve explains. “Ripped it up and left the chocolate on my car to melt on the seats.” 

“I can clean that.” 

“You can?!” 

“Oh yeah. I got you Harrington.” Eddie laughs right as another dad comes to the table. 

“Howdy gentleman.” He smiles, sitting down. Eddie has to blink to recognize, holy shit that’s Tommy. “Oooo. I’m sitting at the hellfire table. So scary…” 

“Do you have a kid here…?” Steve asks, blinking slowly. 

“Yeah.” He slurs, pointing to the young kid stuffing his face with marshmallows.  “You guys want some whiskey?” 

“Jesus. I smell it from here man.” Steve snaps, standing up. 

“I’m driving. Hard pass.” Eddie laughs, standing with Steve. 

“It’s so weird to me that you two are friends! That shit is like….. mind flowing!” 

“Blowing.” Steve corrects and Eddie sighs. “Damn it Harrington. It was a trap.” 

“Blowing is more for you guys, if you know what I mean.” Tommy laughs and Eddie shakes his head. 

“How did you fall for that Harrington? You made that line.” Eddie grumbles, moving to find Motley. “Hey Metalhead?” 

“Yeah daddy?” She asks, coming up with her cheeks bright red from all the dancing. 

“Have you eaten?” He asks, offering her a bite of his pizza before looking back over to Vinny. “Think you can go help him out?” 

“Yeah. I guess.” She sighs, kissing his cheek and rushing to find Vinny and bring him out to dance. 

By the end of the night Eddie has danced to about every little pop song she wants, and by the time he is bringing her to the car it’s more of a carrying her situation as Steve tries to trip Vinny up. 

“Have a good night Harringtons.” Eddie laughs. 

“Sleep tight Munsons.” 

- 

“Shouldn't you be in bed?” Eddie asks, peering up at you over his book as you shuffle and pace around the room. 

“Shut up.” You grunt, waving your hand at him. Your face is pinched up and Eddie finds himself sitting up and staring at you. 

“What’s going on here?” 

“Edward shut UP!” You snap, pacing back to the wall and holding your hands against it to try and breathe in. “Sorry. Sorry that was mean.” 

“Are you in pain?” He mumbles, standing up and putting on his slippers. 

It was your ninth month, and Eddie was anxious because he had never experienced the pregnancy part of it all before so every kick and movement made him worried. 

“Eddie. Edward. Eds.” You grunt out, and right there something trickles down your leg. 

“Did you just pee?” 

“EDWARD!” 

(Would you guys want me to keep going? I have more ideas {Especially Motley in high school} Feel free to message me if you want me to keep going or if you have any blurbs or requests for them in mind)

TAGLIST:: (Let me know if you want removed)

@mariamayhemrsmunson @bethanyzed @alyisdead

@caseyqdilla @zooboomanfu @avenjames-anderson @hazydespair

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[dawnsedits]

hi! i love your edits and i want to get into gif making. if you could give me some tips on how to start or what stuff you use it would be greatly appreciated!

Thank you!!! I’ll give you some general tips and some links and if you want more details about anything, feel free to send in another ask!

Programs

You’re best off with Photoshop, bc that’s got a lot of tools for coloring and whatnot, and that’s what pretty much every tutorial on this website uses. There’s full Photoshop, which is a monthly subscription, or Photoshop Elements, which is a one-time fee but with fewer tools (and I pay for it, so idk where to download it for free or anything). If you don’t want/can’t get Photoshop, there are websites you can use for free (that’s where I started, don’t remember what it was called tho), but your tools will be limited (which is fine! As I said, it’s where I started, and it was still plenty of fun). The rest of this will generally assume you’re using Photoshop, though some of it applies universally

Getting Footage

This post will tell you a lot more about how and where to download stuff than I ever could. You can also screenrecord YouTube and, for shows, the channel’s website, though this will be limited in the content you can find. 1080p is best for both making high quality gifs and saving space on your computer, though if you’re recording YouTube I recommend finding 4K footage if possible, and 720p will work as well

Making the Gifs

Here’s a post compiling all sorts of resources! It’s got links to tutorials and resource blogs. If you want more, you can go to my main blog (@castieldawnchester, tho when that changes, just check this blog’s title for my current user) and search #resources or #tutorials

Sizing

First off, the most basic of basics: Sizing. A single gif needs to be 540px wide; two gifs in a row need to be 268px; and for three gifs, the outer two need to be 177px, with the middle gif being 178px. The height is pretty much up to you - my two go-to heights are 260px or 225px. (If you want examples: 225px, 260px, 360px, 540px [do not do this one unless you want Really Heckin Big gifs]). With this in mind, crop away!

For headers, however, you’ll want a 16:9 ratio - mine are 640x360.

Sharpening

Once it’s cropped (and only after it’s cropped, it’ll be useless if you try to sharpen it beforehand), you’ll want to sharpen it. Go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen, and these are my settings:

Then add a gaussian blur by going to Filter > Blur > Gaussian Blur. I use a radius of 1px, then set the opacity to 20%. Feel free to adjust both the sharpen and the blur to your personal preferences!

Text

Basic captioning is usually done in Calibri or Arial or a similar font. Bold and italicize it. Add a stroke and a drop shadow (do this by clicking on the text layer, then going up to Layer > Layer Style). I make it size 17, stroke width set to 2, and my drop shadow settings are:

Feel free to adjust any of that to your personal preference!

And the fancy edit text is entirely up to you! Mess around with sizing, colors, opacity, all the different panels under layer style, and the layer blending modes to your heart’s desire. If you can’t find a font you like already installed in Photoshop, you can find more online

Basic Coloring

This tutorial is specifically about curves. A curves layer is only my first of several steps for coloring, but it’s probably the most vital imo

But a thing to remember about coloring tutorials is that everyone colors differently. Some people don’t use curves, for example, and I don’t really use photo filters bc I prefer color balance. It also depends if you want natural coloring, vibrant, pale, black and white, or whatever, and even then, everyone has different styles. My own style is a mishmash of different tutorials and my own preferences (I actually changed it a bit just a few weeks ago). So I recommend looking at a variety of different coloring tutorials, trying them out, and picking out the bits you think make your gifs look the best.

With all that in mind, these are my layers for coloring:

I work from the bottom up. (Ignore that curves copy, it’s a leftover from an action I need to get rid of.) For curves and levels, I just hit auto.

For exposure, I add some exposure to make the gif a little brighter, and some gamma correction to make the blacks pop a little more. For brightness/contrast, I add a little of both. (But be careful with both of these layers - making your gif too bright will ruin the gif’s quality.)

For vibrance, add a little saturation (don’t go too far or you’ll ruin the quality - I tend to stay below +10) and some vibrance. I do this before color balance specifically bc it makes it easier to see what colors need balancing. For that, it’s pretty self-explanatory - if your gif is too yellow, drag the slider over to the blue; if it’s too green, drag it to magenta; etc. The changes to this layer will also be small.

(Coloring is like that, usually, in my experience. Beyond the curves layer, and perhaps the levels layer depending on the scene, it’s basically less is more - the combo of the layers will give the look you want and make a drastic difference, but each individual layer will look like only a tiny change.)

Finally, selective coloring. Selective Color 2 is to adjust for skin tones, and I only use red and yellow. For both, lower the cyan a little bit, and increase red and yellow. Then Selective Color 1 is specifically for the blacks. Go to blacks and increase black by +30, then drop the layer opacity to 30% - this’ll make your gif look a little more HD. Feel free to fidget with this layer!

(If you want me to do a full tutorial with pictures and examples, just ask!)

Fancy Coloring

This can be whatever you want - vibrant, pale, changing the colors, etc. For that, I suggest finding tutorials, bc I won’t really be able to help.

But for effects like this gifset or this one, I use gradient maps and gradients. Mess with the colors, the blending options, and all the little settings to get whatever look you’re going for. (Again, if you want a full tutorial, I can absolutely do that!)

Exporting and Posting

The general speed for gifs is .05, tho I use .04.

The max size is 10mb (though I’ve noticed for headers that they seem to freeze if they’re above 5mb). Keeping it smaller will make it easier for Tumblr to load tho (cause we all know how functional this website is).

And tags!! Are!! Important!! Believe me. Unless you have a billion followers, your gifset will get a mere handful of notes and flop epically on your own. Find gifmakers who track tags, find source blogs, and tag them. There are fandom-specific blogs, character-specific blogs, actor-specific blogs, ship-specific blogs, and blogs for movies/shows/whatever in general - it might take some digging for smaller fandoms, but I guarantee you there’ll be someone you can tag. The first five tags are generally the most important, bc beyond that, there is zero guarantee Tumblr’s lOvElY search function will be able to find your post.

And lastly...

Don’t Get Discouraged

Giffing can be time-consuming, and given the current lack of reblogging on Tumblr, it can be hard to have a post do well. It depends on the fandom too - tiny fandoms, dead fandoms, the super massive fandoms, your post will likely go even more unnoticed than usual.

But if you’re having fun, don’t give up. It’s worth it! You made a thing you like! And you enjoyed doing it! That’s the point! Keep learning, keep growing, keep playing, keep giffing. Someone will always love your content, even if that someone is you.

I’m going to stop now, bc the SPN finale is nigh and I’m ready to die (hehe that rhymed), but as I said, if you want more, go search around on my main blog, or send in some more asks!

[wannabeschyulersister]

the backseat

*takes place in season 4. gif is not mine. credit to owner.*

“Will someone please explain to me how I’m the one who ended up back here with Harrington?” You called out from the very back of the Nancy Wheeler’s car.

“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in the backseat of a car with me?” Steve asked you, “if anything you should be thanking me.”

You rolled your eyes, “You are so full of yourself.”

Steve winked at you while snacking on some chips.

Dustin sat in the middle row with Max and they both couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction between Steve and yourself. You tried to get in the section with them but they both blocked you. Nearly everyone in the car knew that there was something going on romantically.

Except for you and Steve.

It was very evident with how often the two of you bickered about nonsense. Also, the longing stares, the way you’d sort of perk up at the mention of the other’s name.

So, everyone in the party would always try and pair you both up for random things. Oh, someone needs to go and get the pizza for movie night? Steve and (Y/n). Dustin needs someone to help him pick out new shoes? Steve and (Y/n).

You both were oblivious to everything that was going on, of course.

But you didn’t mind always getting stuck with me each other.

“Do you really hate me that much?” Steve asked softly, not wanting the others to hear.

You were surprised that he even asked that question. Is that how you came across to him?

“No, of course not. Why do you think that?” You responded.

Steve shrugged his shoulders a little, “I don’t know. I feel like I annoy you sometimes.”

“Well, you do. People generally annoy me though.”

It made Steve smile a little, “I’m glad I’m not the only one then.”

“Do you hate me?” You countered.

“No way.” Steve answered quite quickly. You both were so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t notice the only sound coming from the front of the car was the radio. Everyone else was waiting to see where the conversation in the back was going.

The looming threat of the Upside Down and Vecna was long forgotten for you. You felt the words you’d always wanted to say to him on the tip of your tongue.

“That’s good to know.”

“Why is that?” Steve leaned over a little closer to you.

“Because.”

“Because….” He trailed off.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

Steve smiled, “Yeah, I am.”

You felt the nerves coursing through your veins. Once you said it, there was no coming back. “It’s good to know because I sort of feel the opposite of hate towards you.”

Robin squealed in the front making everyone look at her. Nancy smacked her lightly on his shoulder, “Robin!”

“Looks like we have an audience.” Steve commented as he scooted closer to you, wanting to just speak to you from now on. He bent down, his hand touching your neck softly, “I sort of feel the opposite of hate towards you, too.”

“Really?” You asked.

Steve nodded, “I think you’re really sweet. I also think that we could be something special.”

You grinned, “I think so too, Harrington. Who would’ve thought all we needed was Nancy’s backseat to get us to this point?”

Steve’s hand rested on your thigh, “My backseat is a lot nicer though.”

“Is that so? I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

[daniveigt]

Every part of you.

Summary: The reader is a painter and after asking the boys a lot they let her do a painting of them.

Pairing: Steven Grant, Marc Spector and Jake Lockley.

Warnings: fluff, some crying, but nothing really sad. It's just love, and more love.

a/n-sooo... I had this idea before going to sleep, scrolling through twitter. I saw this very cute drawing of the three together, but when I went to save the page it updated. I hope it's okay, it's been a while since I wrote. Remembering that English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. hope you like it! Written on my cell phone.

gif credits to the owner!!!

Steven was the first to accept. He didn't even think twice when I brought the idea to him. Every time he had the opportunity to see me painting he was by my side. Always with his eyes attentive to every movement of the brush, to the shades of color and with a compliment on the tip of her tongue and a chamomile tea in his hand.

Marc and Jake... I already knew I would have a job convincing them.

2 days after asking Steven I asked Marc. When Marc was around and I painted he was always in front of me with a cup of coffee in his hand trying to read some book about Egypt that Steven asked him to read and the computer open. Marc could never finish the books, or understand anything about them, but he made that effort for Steven. I stopped my work, painting a landscape from some image I'd seen in one of Steven's books.

"You're looking..." Marc said already with a slight smile on his face. "Can I ask you something?" He looked up from the book and I saw a little apprehension on his face that he tried to mask with confusion. "It's no big deal, I promise." I took a deep breath and with anxiety already coursing through my veins I continued: "I was wondering if I could paint you." Marc's face lights up and suddenly closes: "Baby, are you sure, me? Do you, um, want to...paint me?" His voice dripping with confusion and insecurity: "But of course honey, you're the most beautiful person that my eyes have ever seen, you're my muse. It would be weird if I didn't want to paint you." He took a deep breath, closed the book, took a sip of coffee, closed his eyes, opened them and looked at me so softly that I ended up dropping the brush on the floor and said, "Of course love, whenever you want. Anything for you ."

---

Jake is always sitting at the window behind where I usually paint, with a notebook in his hands writing and scribbling thoughts. Once I saw a poem for me in this notebook. I cried for 30 minutes rereading all the sweet words. If I told someone that my super scary handsome boyfriend writes poems and poetry, they wouldn't believe it.

Not that I would tell anyone about it. Never.

As I finished the same painting of some pyramid I repeated the same question that I asked Marc without a second thought. "Jake, can I paint you?" The sound of the pen on paper stopped immediately and I heard the rustle of clothes in my direction. He hugged me from behind and placed his face on my neck sucking in air and a sense of peace embraced me. "Yes. But only if you come to bed with me, Hermosa." And so without a second thought, I closed my paints, put the brush in the water, wiped my hands and went to bed with him.

---

One week later, on a Thursday night after dinner I started my work. Steven was the first one that I started. He was nervous. I took my paints and canvas into the living room and instructed him to sit in the middle of the couch, sit and relax. I made him some tea and grabbed his favorite book and glasses. He silently thanked, took a sip of his tea and began to read. "Can you read it aloud dear?" I asked as I mixed the paints until I got the right skin tone. He nodded and started. And the sound of his voice lulled me and I started to paint.

4 hours later I was done. Steve asked to see it and I declined. I wasn't finished yet. I kept the painting while he waited in the living room and we went to bed.

-----

On Friday it was Jake's turn. Today was his day to go out and work with the limo. I gave him the same guidance that I gave to Steven. I made him sit on the sofa, on the right side, handed him his notebook and a pen and a glass of water and got to work. 4 hours later I finished. I have to ran from him so he wouldn't see the painting and went to bed with him.

----

Saturday. It was Marc's turn. I started this morning after breakfast. I made him sit on the sofa to the left, handed him the computer, a cup of coffee, glasses and a book and went to my seat. Marc smiled at me, put his glasses on his face and started fiddling with the computer. 3 hours later I had finished it. I warned him and as much as he begged to see it I managed to say no and went to finish the last details and put it to dry. Then I put everything away and sat next to him on the couch.

----

On Sunday the paint was already dry. I took it, put it on the table and put a white cloth over it and went to make breakfast.

Marc's Pov-

Marc woke up looking for her, not understanding where she would be so early on a Sunday morning. He got up, went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and looked at Steven and Jake in his reflection. "Where is she?" Steven asked still trying to understand what was going on. "She must have lost sleep Steven." Jake started to reassure him. Marc finished brushing his teeth, smiled at them and headed for the kitchen, finding you finishing up the food.

"Good morning love" His hoarse voice making her jump and put her hand on her heart in fright. "Marc what are you doing awake? It was supposed to be breakfast in bed." I smiled seeing her face turn towards me with a slight frown. I immediately came forward and hugged her, "I missed you." "Go sit down dear, I have a surprise for you on the table, but please don't open it yet." With a kiss on her cheek I pulled away and headed towards the table, only now noticing the large rectangle covered by a cloth on top of the table.

"What is it?" Steven asked, looking up from the reflection in Gus's aquarium glass. "We'll have to wait and see buddy." I replied and she came towards me with a plate and a cup of coffee in her hand. Putting it on the table I pulled her into my lap and kissed her. "Hey." "Hey. You didn't peek did you?" she asked with a smile on her face. "No, I swear." I said taking a piece of bread off the plate smiling brightly at her. "Great, I want to see your reaction and the boys' too." She got up and walked towards the object on the table. "What do you mean the boys too?" I asked. Jake and Steven wondered the same thing in their reflection. "You'll see." She said handing me the object still with the cloth in it. "Please, if you don't like it let me know. Do you promise?" Her face was lined with nervousness and her hands were shaking slightly as I took the object from her hand. "Love, anything that comes from you I will like. And the boys think the same." Her face lit up momentarily and she motioned with her hands for me to continue and remove the wrapping paper.

The shock I got when I took the wrapping off came right away. My breath hitched and I heard Jake and Steven's hitch too. My hands started to shake and my eyes started to blur. By this time Steven was already crying and Jake was strangely silent. But I didn't turn to look at them. It was a painting. The painting she said she wanted to do of me and the boys. I did not expect it. When she asked each of us if she could paint us I thought she was going to do something simple, just one.

In the picture in front of me I could see our living room, with Steven's books in the background, the windows overlooking London. The table in the back filled with more books and papers with notes. And on the couch the 3 of us. Me, Steven and Jake. Steven was in the middle, reading a book, glasses on the end of his nose and his hair a mess. Jake was on the right, writing in his notebook with his hand in his hair and his legs on the coffee table. Squinted eyes trying to understand what he wrote. And I, on the left side with the computer leaning on my legs with a slight smile in my hand. I was shaking so hard, trying not to cry.

"Let me take over Marc." Jake said and I allowed it. "Hermosa, I-I, we don't even know what to say." I lifted my eyes to meet hers and was greeted with tears in her eyes and a small smile. "I-I, just wanted to show you guys with my eyes, I hope I did a good job." A small tear rolled down my cheek and Steven took the body and all the other tears came down. "Honey, it's, it's… amazing. I, I, love you. We love you. I, just come here, please." She sat on my lap and hugged me tight. Then Marc took over the body. "Thanks."

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

[theringers]

champion - max verstappen

summary: i don’t think this fic needs any explanation

i hope y’all enjoy this fic, i know i’ve been mia but ….. this happened so as always feedback is appreciated & as always…. this is unedited lmao

as a warning: this is a creative work and i will not tolerate any argument or discourse about the championship. i am a max fan and i am happy he won. and still disgusted with the fia. take your discourse elsewhere or you will be blocked

gif cred to @norstappen pls lmk if you want me to remove it xoxo

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, oral sex, unprotected sex (no protection mentioned idk??? use ur imagination and use a condom irl pls) this is SMUT! do not read if you are not comfortable with smut/fanfic/rpf

You watched in awe as you boyfriend shook the hands of strangers over and over. He was beaming, and everyone who shook his hand felt the same. They were beyond excited and couldn’t believe they were finally here.

The music boomed and the alcohol was flowing. You leaned on the bar, finally giving up, but knowing this was his moment. He deserved this championship and there were so many people to celebrate with. You couldn’t blame him for being busy, but you were dying treat your boyfriend like the champion he was.

You sipped your glass and flagged the bartender for another. It was going to be a long night. "You must be so proud," said a stranger, waiting for her drink.

"I really am." You felt your heart ache for how genuinely proud you were of him. Seeing him on the podium with the words champion behind him made everything worth it. Max started to make his way through the crowd over to you with a huge smile on his face. You were so proud of how hard he worked for his championship. All the hours he put in on the simulator, in the gym, at the factory, all paid off.

The alcohol was causing Max to squeeze his eyes shut in excitement as he walked over to you. "Hi," he said, resting his drunk head on your shoulder. You kissed his forehead, puckering your lips at the sweat forming on his skin.

"Having fun?" You asked him.

He giggled and leaned in to your body for support. "I'd be having more fun if it was just me and you, but this is okay too." He took a big swig of his drink. "Plus this isn't just for me. It's for the team, too."

Another familiar red bull polo approached them. "Congratulations, Max. You were incredible."

He stood up straight next to my side and smiled at the man, shaking his hand and ultimately being pulled in for a hug. "Thank you, and thanks for all the work you put in this year man." They clinked glasses and the man walked off. You weren't sure if you were ever going to get more than a second alone with him tonight.

As soon as the bartender set your drink down, Max grabbed your other hand and pulled you away. He tip-toed around the club floor, trying to fly under the radar. Apparently, the alcohol made him think that if he tip-toed, he wouldn't be seen. He quickly pulled you into an empty hallway before someone else could interrupt and pushed you against the wall.

You let your head fall back trying to hide your smile. He took this as an opportunity to attack your neck with wet, sloppy kisses. You didn't even care. He was desperate for contact, and he was the damn champion. He could do whatever he wanted. His hand gripped your side, fingers pushing the seam of your shirt up to expose your sides. His fingers felt like lit matches on your skin.

"Max! Uh-" A voice shouted, causing him to pull away from your neck. Sergio stood with two shot glasses in his hand, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry."

You laughed. "Don't even worry about it." Max took a deep breath and grabbed the second glass and you smacked his ass, pushing him away once again to celebrate with his teammate, who he could not have done this without.

Before turning the corner, he scurried back and pulled you in close to him. The scent of alcohol was strong on his hot breath. “Everyone’s pissing me off tonight, not letting me celebrate with you.” He kissed your cheek softly. “I’ll get you alone tonight eventually. Just you wait.” He tugged at your earlobe and giggled softly before walking off to find Checo again.

You walked back to your seat at the bar, because even being alone watching Max from a distance was incredible just to see the joy on his face.

It was a long night and celebrations were finally over. You sat in the back of the car, fingers intertwined with his as you drove back to the hotel. The sun was rising, and you couldn't wait to shut the curtains and be with Max.

He didn't waste a second before his polo was off and tossed across the room. You skipped over to him and wrapped your arms around him. He held you tight, like it was the hug he'd been needing all night. "You're a fucking world champion, Max."

"It still doesn't feel real," he whispered into your ear.

You pulled back slightly from him and smirked. "I'll take that as a challenge." Your fingers pushed him lightly, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. His eyes followed your every move.

You slowly unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his legs as he watched intently, trailing his tongue over his lip.

You dropped to your knees and ran your hands over his muscular thighs. He moaned at the contact.

"Baby, I've been dying for you all night. Don't tease me."

You drunkenly giggled at him and moved your finger between his skin and the elastic band of his boxers. You looked up at him through your long lashes with a devilish grin on your face. Teasing him was one of your favorite things, but he was right. Now wasn't the time - not after he spent the day racing his heart out and the night drinking himself silly. You yanked on the stretchy elastic and pulled the fabric down his thighs, painstakingly slow and with a smirk on your face.

He propped himself up on his elbows and you laughed silently to yourself, wondering how he was able to hold himself up after everything he consumed.

His hard cock sprung out of his boxers and rested against his toned abdomen. His first reaction was to reach for himself and begin stroking, which was not on your agenda. You pulled his hand away and shook your head. "Champions don't pleasure themselves."

He rolled his eyes at your words and let his head fall back in pleasure. You began working at his shaft, the skin soft and ready for your mouth. You'd been waiting all day to get him undressed and under your grasp. As soon as he saw the checkered flag, you were ready to peel off every layer of fabric on his body. If it were any other race, you would've had your way hours ago. Watching him sweaty and covered in champagne made you want to take a hot shower and clean him up, but he wouldn't let you. Celebrate with the team first, and then celebrate alone with each other all night, he said.

Faint breaths spun around the room and you gripped his cock tighter, causing an involuntary thrust of his hips towards you. He was so fucking needy, but was too intoxicated to beg. His actions spoke louder than his words.

You took him in your mouth in one swift motion, choking as he hit the back of your throat. Max moaned, and it was music to your ears. If only everyone was as lucky as you are to hear those intimate noises made in his most vulnerable moments. Normally, you would stop to catch your breath, but you pushed down further.

His sounds of pleasure were reassurance that you were doing exactly as you should - and then some. You hollowed your cheeks and tightened around him, causing an animalistic moan to bounce off the walls. Your internal temperature shot up every time he opened his mouth and let his sweet sounds out, not to mention the moisture rapidly forming between your legs.

You lifted your head and opened your eyes, only to see him staring right at you with a look on his face that only meant you're in for it. You nodded up at him, motioning to move back against the headboard of the bed, and he did as you said.

Tossing aside the remainder of your clothes, you crawled across the mattress and swung your leg over his lap. You adjusted yourself around him and rested your hands on his shoulders. You smiled at him before moving your hips back and forth. He gripped your sides before letting you take over. He had trouble letting go and handing control over to you, but it felt damn good.

He rested his hands behind his head and admired how good you looked on top of him. His eyes were full of lust and desire, but he couldn’t help but smile. He won. On track, yes, but look at you, he thought. Your tits bounced in his face as he sat back an soaked in the feeling.

“Fuck,” he groaned, grabbing your body and pulling you in closer. You continued to bounce on his lap with his arms wrapped around your body tight. “It didn’t hit me until now, but I sure do feel like a world champion.”

You laughed as he lifted you up, rolling around the sheets until his body was heavy on top of yours. You couldn’t help but smile at each other and laugh, staring into each other’s eyes. It would never feel real.

You rested your hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble start to grow. He smiled and leaned into your hand while thrusting slow and passionately. His exhaustion was showing.

He picked up his pace and you looped your legs around his back to increase contact. He groaned and pulled your upper body into him, his large hand resting flat on your back as he held you close to his chest.

You felt his thrusts get sloppy and you held him tight. He exhaled and whispered. “Who needs a trophy when I have you?”

taglist: @honeybadger03 @ggaslyp1 @enchantestuff @ohpuckyeah @pg10ln4 @yugyeomcutie

if you were on my taglist and changed your blog name please let me know i cannot keep up lolol

[rcksmith]

Lust — Kaz Brekker

Gif by @kitsyoung

Request: “Hey. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you would consider writing a Kaz piece with the smut prompts 76, 1 & 33. Obviously with your au rules. If it’s too much I completely understand tho”

“7, 17, 36, and 73 from the smut list for Kaz Brekker please? If not, no worries! 💖 Thank you!”

“Holy shit that last kaz brekker smut- AMAZING. Was wondering if you could write another smut with smut prompt #6? Of course if this bothers you just ignore it. Thank you so much 🥰”

Smut prompts:

1. “You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat.”

6. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

17. “after that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy”

33. “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”

36. "If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.“

73. “You know, you look real pretty when you cry.”

76. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nsfw, jealous, mention of fight.

Word count: 5k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

Thank you so much for the requests and for all affection 💖 I decided to compile these requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. I hope you like it and good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

There is a theory that always, somewhere, there will be a person capable of making you lose your breath, and your reasoning, whenever he appears on the scene. Someone who robs you of your breath, your heartbeat, your ability to think clearly and your control to keep your hands not shaking.

And Kaz Brekker would always be that person for you.

From the first time you laid eyes on him, it's been a feeling of dying and going to heaven. Except that Heaven was, in reality, a hot, burning hell. Where your greatest punishment was being forced to watch his tall figure, who exuded masculinity by every inch, walking in front of you like a Renaissance painting very superb.

Nothing that Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Picasso created has bordered on the personification of beauty that he was.

Kaz was beautiful in a very mysterious, dangerous and chilling way. You would describe his aura as the height of midnight in an enigmatic city, his hair the color of the core of sin and his features as lines that the god Ares would have drawn. Everything about him reeked of the fog of suspense stories, with a touch of lust.

All the looks he directed at you were caustic, flickering and intense as a candle flame, reverberating through your veins like angry eels and always make the room feeling charged with electricity, like the ground after the fall of a lightning. Everything between the two of you seemed to be filled with something fiery and arcane. From the gazes, the rubbing of shoulders, the times when the skins touched. Everything was a compilation of sensations that make you catch your breath whenever Kaz Brekker appeared.

He was your kryptonite. In all senses.

And that was exasperating in the extreme, at staggering levels. You felt your center of your sex vibrate whenever he directed you that voice whit baritone intonation and predatory looks, whenever the button-down shirts were tight enough for you to revel in the contours of his body, or sometimes when he wore the cane to signal or stopper something. This was the worst of them. His cane.

Have you lost count of how many times Kaz stopped you as counting money, by putting the tip of the cane over your hands, or stopped you from going somewhere by blocking your path with the cane, lifting the object horizontally in front of your belly. And every time you felt your legs tremble, your breath fade and a very dirty part of your brain whisper that you wanted him to use that object in you in more fun ways.

Your body was so responsive that there were times when you knew, with every fiber of your soul, that Kaz was able to read the paths in which your thoughts wandered. He lowered his gaze to you, in that breathless connection that promised to contain the most nefarious paths of sin, and maliciously curved the left corner of his lips in an arrogant, oblique expression. At such times, you could feel in your soul the words he did not say:

I know the perverted things that you are thinking.

And the truth was, he really knew. Kaz memorized every change in your breathing, every blush on your cheeks, every trembling of your hands, every your trembling look whit a frightened girl who had been caught thinking of something impure. He knew how your body was responsive, needy. And he himself had to control himself not to push you over the desk in his office and fuck you like an aggressive animal, bringing all your perverted thoughts to life.

It wasn't his physical reactions that kept him from taking action, but an even more visseral reaction than the pulsing desire he felt for you. Mine. The primal, determined, burning sensation of possession. That it ran through his veins like hot, bubbling lava. The desire was familiar, but this statement, not. Like the jealousy he felt for you, he quickly recognized the danger he was in.

If Kaz touched you…he knew he would never be able to let you go.

Mine. A statement that resonated spontaneously whenever he saw you, a testament to the reactions the two of you triggered in each other. However, not even the awareness of the dangerous game that was between you was able to dispel the climate of provocative sensuality that pulsed in the places whenever the two of you were together.

It was like playing with a powerful drug. One slip and he would be addicted forever.

On days like this, when Kaz had just come out of an exasperating meeting with Peka, a businessman and mobster who was always looking for ways to try and bring Kaz down, his already bad temper turned to terrible. He felt compelled to break something, drink a whole bottle of the best English whiskey in that club, and punch someone. Kaz felt the anger pulse through his veins, in a pure and perfect way.

He left the office, turning off his cell phone so he wouldn't be disturbed and descending the stairs to the center of his Crow Club, mind buzzing and anger seeping in his blood. He needed to unwind, maybe get into the car and head home. Maybe actually drink that whiskey bottle. Maybe both.

Kaz was about to take another step down, running a gloved hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes, when his gaze met your figure. And that was when the already terrible temper rose to the very badly.

Normally, a vision like that would have just bothered him, a compulsion to do something. But that day, Kaz was at the height of his angriest feelings. And seeing you, bold as a goddess in that little black dress, next to Jesper at the gambling table and flirting with a guy to your left, did things with every last bit of patience and self-control he had.

His eyes never left you as he took another step, running his hand through his hair again to contain the unruly strands. You were laughing, downing another drink and placing a card on the table. You turn back to the man to your left, your eyelashes fluttered gracefully in a promise to allow him to guide your rein tonight.

But there would be no goddamn rein for that fucking guy to guide.

Kaz gripped his cane tightly, descending the other short stairs and advancing toward your with dangerous, determined, and angry steps.

"...in this part of the year, criminal law cases drop a lot." The damn guy was telling you, his boring blond hair falling over his blue eyes in a way Kaz found annoying.

To fucking hell with that blond-haired Dande.

“Y/n, Jesper!” Kaz tapped the end of his cane on the table, stopping the cards under the polished wooden end.

Everyone at the table looked at him startled, their actions frozen. He saw you swallow hard, a soft tremor sigh in your shoulders.

Good!

“Shouldn't you be at the door?” Kaz turned to Jesper, his eyes sparks with annoyance.

“Right now, Boss.” He stood up, giving you a strained smile and heading towards the door.

“Kaz…” You started, voice softly intoxicated.

You knew you weren't supposed to be at the gambling table, let alone so late at night and drunk, even if Jesper was by your side. You had the ability to win every play, in any game, and that ended up not only driving the others away, but leaving the men, already drunk and irrational, aggressive and with an extremely bruised ego. And they almost always wanted to retaliate physically. As much as there were security guards and cameras everywhere to keep something bad from happening, Kaz couldn't stand the thought of someone hurting you. Not even blinking insultingly in your direction.

He sent you an icy, sharp, steady look. A clear warning for you to stop there any excuse you were about to give. To be careful with the next words you would say. You swallowed hard, looking away and getting up from the table. Slightly wobbly from the drink, you fished your coat from the chair next to you, giving a strained, apologetic smile to the guy you'd been flirting with so far.

“I better go home and call an uber and…” You started, but Kaz cut your sentence.

“I'll driver you.”

His tone exuded annoyance and impatience, giving no opening to any objections, demonstrating that he was in no mood for games. Much less defiance of his orders. You knew him too well to recognize that that night had pulled his nerves beyond what he could handle, the strain and irritation in his eyes told you something had happened beyond what you knew. His jaw, straight and strong as glass, was clenched tightly, his night-colored hair was disheveled in an overwhelmingly attractive way, and his black robes sinfully marred every line of his body.

You should have become wary of the dangerous energy that he exuded through every pore at that moment. However, to your inebriated and excited brain, Kaz Brekker has never looked so fucking hot! Your underbelly vibrated in response to the personification of sin that Kaz was, your heart racing at alarming levels as you followed him out, walking over to his car.

Like every piece of Brekker's clothing, his car was sleek black, with big black wheels, tinted glass and dark leather seats. Hades' chariot. You felt your breath catch when Kaz opened the passenger door for you, his eyes avoiding yours, his jaw still clenched and dangerous energy exhaling through every fiber of his tall, lean body.

Holy Mother of God, this man was a perdition!

Kaz contained an instinctive desire to go back inside and tell that aspiring Dande that you weren't available. Instead, he closed the door when you got in and turned around in the car, closing his own and squeezing the steering wheel harder than he would have liked.

Midnight height light streamed in through the darkened car windows and gently illuminated the curve of your cheek, highlighting your skin that Kaz might have named the color of the gods. So much attention was too seductive. Emotions and reactions still bubbled through each his vein like scandant water, mingling with months of frustrated desires and burning sexual tension.

At that moment, jealousy laced him. Mine. Amazing and at the same time propelled by dangerous strength, Kaz tried to trap that feeling back into the dungeon of his soul. He controlled his fury, yet he couldn't completely tame. Annoyance turned to anger. Starting driving the car forward, Kaz tried to think of anything but how you looked like the Goddess Aphrodite on that dark bench. Splendid as a heat ray in a winter day.

“Kaz…” You started, that gentle, repentant tone that stirred every spark in his soul.

He hated how his name on your lips sounded so sensual, so right and so delicious. He would give everything he had to hear you moan his name.

“Don't start” he warned, now not because of latent annoyance, but because he didn't know if he could stop himself if he heard your voice.

However, you didn't make things any easier for him.

"You don't have to be so angry." You go "I wasn't even using all my intellect on the game, I wasn't trying to win."

Kaz didn't even know if that was the core of the problem anymore. Was he angry that you went to a table where it was dangerous? Yes. But the waters were much deeper than that, much more dangerous. The way your smile, sweet and sensual, was directed at that guy, reeled in Kaz's mind, impregnated with the plague. He felt the blood burn in his veins just remembering how melted you looked for that man. And as much as he couldn't blame you, because you were free and single, the primal, irrational part of him screamed so much louder now.

Mine.

“This does not matter anymore.” It was the only thing he managed to say, the very sensations drowning him.

“And it wasn't even that dangerous.” But unlike him, you were obliterating the burning emotions that Kaz exuded. “There were only a few players drunker than a door, and Jesper was on my side, and also James, who was very charming and...”

Kaz almost lost direction, making the car bounce smoothly. He staked his eyes at you, puzzled and bubbling.

“James?”

“Yeah, the blond guy who…”

"I don't want to know, Y/n." He cut you off "I don't want to hear about the guys you allow to drool around you like mangy dogs."

The distilled rage was impossible to contain, and before Kaz knew it, the words were out. He turned forward again, his hands tighter on the steering wheel.

“Wait…” Your tone was slightly smug, and the way you rubbed one thigh against the other was impossible for Kaz to miss.

The grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“You are jealous?” Your intonation dropped to a low, sensual, provocative level.

Suddenly, Kaz's entire body became very aware of your body inches away. He could feel the heat that you radiated and the lyrical, sweet and sinful scent of your perfume flooded all his senses. The air grew thin, puffy and stuffy, and if it had been December cold outside, Kaz would still feel the height of summer in that car. Flashes of excitement and danger rippled through the car, and the brief silence grew even more charged with sexual tension and lustful anticipation that stirred every fiber of Kaz's being.

He made the mistake of looking at you again, and your softly mischievous smile that promised a lifetime of satisfied desires only served to incite his madness. Kaz had never understood how a man could want a woman so badly that he acted irrationally and carelessly. But now he understood. And when he realized you tried to stifle a sensual sigh from the way he was looking at you, his body won the fight against his mind and Kaz stopped abruptly the car at the red traffic light.

The sexual tension between you had become unbearable. In one moment, Kaz was fighting the series of overwhelming and disturbing emotions that dominated his entire being, and in the next moment, he had taken your mouth with his in a fiery, fierce, animal kiss. Stealing all the air from both of you, his thoughts, and his sanity.

He held your face firmly in his hands, his fingers going down to the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, turning everything into something more caustic and desperate. Yours hands went to his arms, moving up to his shoulders and cupping the sides of his neck, pulling him closer. Kaz's tongue inched into your mouth without waiting for permission, conquering and claiming every fiber of your body, of your soul, in a continued of kisses you couldn't tell where one ended and another began.

The moan of satisfaction you let out gave him a lust and desire unlike anything Brekker had ever felt. Like hot, addictive honey down in his throat. He was still gripped by jealousy, annoyance and possessiveness. With the desire for you pulsing in his body just like his heartbeat.

Kaz pulled back millimetrically, his blue eyes overshadowed by the heat of the moment, his lips red and swollen from the sinful kisses he gave you. At that moment, Kaz Brekker looked like an angry young God, and you've never felt more attracted to someone in your life than you are now.

You looked at him, panting and needy, wishing with all your might that he repeat the same actions. And you knew he realized that. Perfectly. You saw the spark of male satisfaction ignite in his eyes as he absorbed your desire. He was so close... so very close, and you couldn't stand the enormous anxiety for a caress, a kiss, anything.

His cocky smile intensified as you put more pressure in your touch his skin, your fingers trailing down his neck and back to his shoulders, silently pleading for him to do something with you. Anything he wanted.

Kaz lowered his one gloved hand to your jaw, thumb and forefinger squeezing your chin and making you look at him directly, you staring into the deep, shrewd blue of his eyes. He pulled you closer by the grip on your chin, the husky, erotic words hitting your lips like a promise of sin as he said:

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don't forget who you belong to.”

It was impossible to control the loud, needy sigh that escaped, your center throbbing in despair and wetting the thin cloth of your panties. You wanted he to touch you more, pull your body against his until there was not a single sigh left, claim your soul and your body as his. You had parted your lips to say something, most likely a plea for him to continue, but the traffic light turned green and Kaz took his hands off you, straightening up on the bench and putting the car move.

In the absence of his warmth, his body, you felt cold, empty and frozen. As if Kaz were your sun and you were Icarus. Feeling the compulsion to need to get closer, complete its magnitude and bask in his rays. Every cell in your body begged for him, in needy and submissive requests, telling you to accept anything he told you, that he gave you, as long as it touched you.

“If I knew that to make you kiss me I would have to flirt with someone else, I would have done it a long time ago.” You teased, a satisfied, malicious smile on your lips.

Kaz looked at you in annoyance. In a clear warning that you should never more do that again.

"If you wanted me to kiss you like the brat you are, you just needed to have asked." He countered your game to the full.

"But if I want more than that?" But just as he knew how to play, so did you.

You swiped the tip of your tongue across your lips, kicking off your shoes and pulling your legs over the dashboard of the car, exposing your nearly bare thighs through the thin black fabric of your dress. Your actions instantly caught Kaz's eyes, and his grip on the steering wheel grew stronger and his breathing heavier.

The air inside the car became more ardent, burn, charged with eroticism and lust that left both of you breathless. An electrifying energy coursed through their bodies, as if they had been struck by a bolt of fire. You wanted him in a way you never thought you could want anyone.

Kaz took a deep breath, and looked at you with dangerous predator eyes as he said:

"If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

The words made your body tremble. But if Kaz was trying to dissuade you, that was the last thing he should have told you. Instead of taming the fire inside you, it threw gasoline into the aggressive fire. You pressed your thighs together, your body sensitive to his words filled with burning promise.

In five minutes of insane courage, you took your feet off the dashboard, leaned toward Kaz, and brushed his neck with your lips. In slow, burning, hot kisses, you traced a path to the pulse in his neck, opening your lips slightly to brush your tongue over that pulse point.

“Please.” You beg.

Kaz's moan was low, but loud enough in your mind. You were being his undoing and you knew it. Suddenly, the car veered to the right and came to an abrupt stop. You would have lost your balance if Kaz's hands hadn't clung to your waist, pulling you in one movement to his left thigh, pressing your soaked core into the black fabric of his pants.

You gasped loudly, or he, or both. And in the next moment, his mouth was on yours again. The kiss was more aggressive, possessive, angry and ardent. Kaz kissed you as if he wanted to decree you his, proclaim his possession. You didn't see when he removed his gloves, but the touch of his skin with on your thighs was all you could think of.

“Kaz…” You moaned into his mouth, and the grip on your thighs moved up to your hip, digging his fingers into your thin dress-covered skin with such force it was sure to leave marks tomorrow. "Please."

You knew what you were begging for, but the moment Kaz forced your waist to move against his thigh, rubbing your pulsing core against his thigh, you forgot even your own name. And Kaz knew it. Then, like dominant man who wanted to see you surrendered to him that he was, his mouth went to your ear as he whispered:

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Kaz wiggled his thigh against you, making your clit roll against the soggy fabric of your panties.

You moaned loudly, your hands tightening on his shirt, your face hiding in his chest as an overwhelming, aching pleasure invaded your system. It felt good, but unbearable for being so little, churning something in your belly that made you despair for more.

"Y-yes." You whimpered, rolling your hips on his thigh.

Kaz's bare hand crept up the slit between your thighs, your dress already balled up at the top of your waist, and dipped his fingers into the juncture of your pussy and his thigh, pulling your panties to the side and making you feel the fabric of his dark pants against your wet, hot flesh. You moaned louder, your grip on his shirt tighter and your hips rocked harder for have any friction.

“Do you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are? Is that what you've wanted all this time?” His words, husky and strong, in that intense, dominant intonation, sent all your self-control to hell.

"Yes." You sobbed. “I-I need you."

But his hand in your panties went up to your chin, and he forced you to look him in the eye once more. The electric intensity of that look turned you on even more, making you gasp as his thigh still rocked against your throbbing clit.

“After that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy” It was very hard to think with all the stimuli he was giving you, but the thunderous blue eyes warned you to pay attention to his words “Do you think you deserve me to fuck you?”

His gaze invaded you so deep and so warm and intense that you wondered if he was trying to leave a burning imprint on your soul. All over your body, overwhelming desires resonated, and you gave in to the compulsion to roll his thigh further, whimpering from the pressure on your clit.

"I'm s-so sorry." You whimpered, eyes pleading with he "It won't happen again."

"Won't happen what?" He tightened his grip on your chin, not painfully, but firmly to get your attention.

"It won't happen again, Sir."

The reward for your obedience came in an aggressive, hungry kiss, his hand in your chin dropping for your hip and wiggle his thigh at your needy pussy.

"Do you want to cum?" He teased you.

"Yes, S-sir."

"The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

Then, as if to reiterate his statement, his mouth clutte to yours once more, his thigh swayed with more vigor and his bare hands moved up to the neckline of your dress.

His warm palms and long fingers lowered the straps of your dress and released your braless breasts, your nipples hard with pleasure and your breasts swollen with arousal.

Your moan was muffled by Kaz's, and he just released your mouth to lower his lips to your left breast, capturing the innocent nipple with his mouth and rolling his tongue across your flesh. You moaned louder, your waist twisting desperately against his thigh as your hands tangled in the strands of his black hair.

Kaz delighted in every inch of you, his hands going back to your waist as his mouth attacked your other breast, leaving a trail of hot saliva on his tight, needy nipples. Brekker was consumed by a fierce hunger and need, so overpowering that he pressed his fingers to your skin as if you were his last meal. He'd wanted for so long to do all that, to dive into your body like a starving man, savoring every inch of your warm skin.

Letting out a loud, delighted moan, Kaz increased his thigh movements as he suckled on your nipple, feeling flung to hell heaven as you squealed softly and collapsed onto his thigh, smearing his black fabric with your hot cum. But Kaz couldn't care less about the fucking pants. His cock hard and rigid as a sword hilt throbbed desperately, commanding him to sink into the heat of your slippery walls.

"This is much better than I dreamin." You whimpered softly, your face still buried in his neck, your waist wiggling slyly in his thigh.

"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" He teased you, taking his hands to your panties away from the center of your pussy and pulling them between your legs, tucking them in his pants pocket.

You nodded, your mouth dipping into his neck in broken kisses as your hands went to his pants belt, trying to get rid of any barrier between the two of you as quickly as possible.

"Please, please." You begged, flustered as Kaz stopped your hip movements with his hands "I need to feel you inside me."

Your plea was sated with an arrogant kiss as Kaz reached for his pants, pulling the fabric of the boxer together and letting pop out his dick throbbing, pulsing and his swollen head, brushing in your pussy with lazy strides.

"S-sir!" You cried, trying to earn more.

"Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you."

The strong, long arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your chest against his chest as Kaz guided his dick to the entrance to your pussy, with one hand. He play whit you, pressing his head into your entrance just enough to make you feel the pressure, recoiling when you swayed frantically for more. The painful pleasure sent tears to your eyes, and you sobbed loudly as you were just toy in his hands.

A few hot tears ran down your face as you whimpered, helpless in his arms to get what you wanted.

"You know, you look real pretty when you cry." Kaz pressed his mouth to yours.

In that second, he completely sank his dick into you, swallowing your loud scream as the thickness of it widened you and hit the bottom of the well. The grip of his arm around you tightened, and Kaz lifted you and brought you let down badly, drown his dick even more deeply inside your hot, wet, desperate walls.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, his mouth leaving yours, but not pulling away enough and letting you feel his hard breath hit your lips.

You followed his thrusts, bouncing your waist up and down hard and letting his dick beat frantically inside you, robbing you of your breath and your ability to think. Your moans mingled with his, the pornographic sounds of their bodies crashing together were loud and you thanked God the car windows were black and the street was deserted.

"So fucking good slut!" Kaz growled against your lips, one hand leaving your body to snake down to your throat, maintaining a firm, dominant grip.

You moaned his name and his title between loud moans and broken sobs. Yours hands closed around the shirt off his shoulders and the waist shimmied between the thrusts, making sure his dick was completely inside you.

“You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat!” Kaz tightened his grip on yoir neck, watching you tilt your head back and expose your entire body to the delight of his eyes.

He growled louder, spurred on by that sinful sight, and increased the rhythm that pounded inside you, filling every inch of you and sinking down as anatomically as possible. Kaz felt possessed by a wild beast, insatiable and euphoric, and each thrust he gave you was more force he inflicted on you, marking you as his.

Kaz pulled your neck to him, pressing your mouth to his as he growled against your lips: “Mine.”

You nodded frantically, the apex bursting in a burst of pleasure as his dick came out and sank in hard, desperate, urgent strokes.

“Yours”

You promised, kissing him urgently and swallowing a low cry as his dick shuddered inside you, flooding you with the hot liquid until your walls overflowed, giving you a feeling of being incredibly full. You whimpered into his mouth, exchanging a sloppy kiss as Kaz gave you a few more thrusts, making sure his cum would fill your every inch, not letting you dare waste a drop.

“Mine” he repeated through the kiss.

so, the weather??? HAHAHA, anyway friends, i hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget consult the rules if you want to request for some Kaz smut. Love u. O

[stripper-patrick]

Next Lifetime 💫Michael B. Jordan pt 1.

Warnings: smut, fluff, kids, sneaky link turned into family, angst, crying, 18+, NSFW gifs, series

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Michael B. Jordan x black plus sized reader (Azina/Z)

<4 years ago>

I’m throwing my ass back to the music just enjoying myself during this time. I’ve had at least 4 shots and I’m feeling all of them.

I feel someone press up behind me and it’s my best friend Michael whose clearly off the Henny just as much as I am. He grinds against me and as I’m working my hips I feel his dick stiffen. A boldness surged through me, or maybe that’s the liquor, and I stand up turning to him sealing a kiss. I’ve always wanted him no doubt I just never knew how to tell him. I guess being drunk is the best way. His hands grab at my waist then snake to my ass. His sweet Hennessy flavored lips are getting me even more drunk but with lust this time. The glisten of his plump lips being out the diamonds in his grill set plastered perfectly on his teeth.

“Let’s go to my house” I nod agreeing with his request and he grabs my hand leading me outside. He hails down a cab and opens the door letting me get on first. He smacks my butt on the way in and I giggle.

“322 Barron Street please” it’s about a 15 minute ride from here.

The driver begins his route and Michael starts kissing my neck and his hand slips down my shorts. My panties are beyond soaked and now he’s rubbing my clit making me whine.

His hand wraps around my throat whispering on my ear “stay quiet ma” he rubs again and as soon as the driver turns the corner into Michael’s loft I’m bussing all over his fingers biting the bottom of my lip trying to stay quiet.

He wraps his hand around my mouth flicking my clit faster making me shake harder. He pulls out his coated fingers placing them in my mouth. I suck off my own sweet juices and he grabs my by the throat kissing me tasting myself off my tongue. The driver clears his throat and we stop giggling and getting out. He tips the driver and walks past me opening the door. As soon as he gets the door open my pants are already unbuckled and halfway off.

“Damn hold on mamas” he slurs. We finally make it up to his nicely decorated bedroom and I’m pushed backwards flying back first on the bed. Michael comes on top of me and I flip us over grinding down on his already rock hard dick. He grabs a handful of behind moaning in my mouth. I move down to his neck where I kiss it sloppily. We stop kissing for a moment and I remove my shirt while he does the same. I move down pulling down his boxers and pants in one motion wasting no time swirling my tongue on the tip of his leaking dick. A low moan fills the room and I wrap my lips around the entire tip and push my head down letting it hit the back of my throat. I let it get wet then go back up to sucking on the tip while my right hand jerks the base and my left hand cups his balls. I come off with a string of saliva and I use my palm to rub on the top directly allowing the slick saliva to give him pleasure. His stomach caves and a loud moan erupts from Michael as he looks down holding vicious eye contact with me.

“Fuck Z” I continue going to town until he grabs me by the throat pulling me up to his mouth. Michael’s tongue roams my mouth fighting for dominance as he pulls me on top of him. I grab his throbbing dick pushing it inside of my aching pussy feeling him expand my walls gracefully. He leans back laying his head on the pillow as I gasp sinking down on him until our hips meet. I place my hands on his chest and sit on my feet rocking my hips along his shaft. His eyes flutter shut as I work my magic swirling my hips in a sloppy drunken circle. He bites his lip while one hand grabs the back of my head pulling my sweaty forehead to his. The other hand grabs a handful of my ass pulling me down. His dick fills my pussy completely making me gasp. Without missing a second Keith grabs both sides of my head keeping deadly eye contact with me and thrusts his hips beating my pussy from below. I let out a mewl holding his biceps while digging my acrylics into them. I bite my lip as he obliterates hot spots I didn’t even know were there.

My entire body feels like it’s on fire as after he thrusts he gives it aches and caves for more. “You like that? You like being daddy’s lil bitch” he moans pounding me out. Michael moves his hands wrapping his hand around my throat pulling me further and growling in my ear. I try to push away as the pleasure is starting to overwhelm me and he holds me by my hips keeping me right where he wants me. The only that can be heard in the room is the slushing sound of my wetness, the clapping of my ass and his balls slapping against my ass. My legs shake already as he continues. My pussy soaks everything underneath me as I let out a struggled moan cumming harder than I’ve ever came with any other man before. Michael pulls out pushing me up onto his face while jerking himself off in the process. He wraps his hands around my hips tasting the beautiful mess he made. My body jerks and my hand instinctively moves to his head as I roll my body on his tongue. He moans at my taste sucking and lapping on my clit. I smile getting off his face and back on his dick bucking my hips wildly. Michael guides my hips keeping himself as deep as possible. He begins thrusting up again at a fast pace making my eyes roll to the back of my head. He growls again giving me a fair warning that he’s about to cum. Without thinking I scream “cum inside this pussy daddy”

I’m aching from his blows. I sit up and keep bouncing at the same pace as he holds my hips tensing up. His seed spills inside of me and I watch his arch his back when I clench my pussy creating a suction. He moans pressing into my hips more.

Michael sits up kissing me and giving me a hard spank to my right ass cheek. His dick throbs inside of me as our mixtures leaks out dripping past his balls and onto the sheets. Drunkenly I lay on top of him giving him lazy kisses. Time and liquor consumes us and before I know it we’re both asleep in each other’s arms.

…

I wake up with a headache the size of the room. I feel like if I move too fast I’ll throw up. I feel someone warmth next to me and I pause. Who did I go home with last night? What happened? I’m aching between my legs but my conscience tells me not to be scared. I look behind me seeing Michael fast asleep. I sigh in comfort knowing I’m safe. He stirs in his sleep opening his eyes and he sees me. “Morning”

“Morning” I move my legs and notice they’re weak. I pull back the covers and we’re both completely naked. Oh shit. I jump up to the best of my ability and he sits up too

“Mike what did we do last night”

“Well using my context clues we had sex” he says rubbing his eyes

“Michael do you not see an issue with that? You have a girlfriend”

“I know but I mean if I’m being honest I’ve always had feelings for you Z and clearly you feel the same way” he states. I grab my underwear shaking my head.

“Mike that’s not the point you knew we shouldn’t have acted on it especially since you’re in a relationship. This could absolutely ruin our friendship. Lemme ask you this what if we go get together and break up then what you know I’m not friends with my exes. If you can be cool with your ex y’all were never in love or still are in love. There’s no in between” he looks at me with his head hanging low. He knows exactly where I’m coming from. “I’m not tryna lose you as a person in general” Mike goes in the bathroom brushing his teeth and peeing.

I collect my clothes putting them back on and Mike throws on some basketball shorts and a t-shirt he grabs some slides and his car keys . Luckily my car is already at home since Michael and his girl Lori picked me up.

“Z I’m sorry. I know things went too far but I’m glad we at least know how we feel about each other” he says “and I don’t regret what happened last night” I nod and get in his car. He gets in the drivers seat taking off and taking me home.

…..

Lori decided to have a pool party today to celebrate Mike for his birthday. Of course he invited me and being his best friend I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Plus it’s at his new house and I’ve never seen it before. Granite we haven’t talked much or seen each other at all since our ordeal a couple weeks ago. In fact this is the first time I’ve actually seen him since that day.

I walk through their beautiful house with a bottle of champagne in my hand. I see Lori in the kitchen. Honestly me and her have never really been that close. I never really cared for her but I was always cordial with her. “Hey Lori I brought this for y’all” she looks at me taking the champagne without even saying thank you. Bougie bitch. Don’t get me wrong I’m bougie too but best believe I’m as humble and as thankful as they come. I guess that’s why me and Mike are best friends. We’re the same.

I roll my eyes and my heels click outside where I see a bunch of people lounging in the pool and on the sides with drinks in their hand. My other best friend Lamia greets me with open arms. Her perfume makes me nauseous and dizzy “Hey girl” she smiles

“Hey” I say trying to hold my breakfast down.

“Mike is over there. Have you and him talked since then?” As soon as I got home that day I got ready for work and told Lamia what happened. I shrug my shoulders as an answer.

“Only small talk and I’ve low key been trying to avoid him just so the awkward tension doesn’t arise” I say

“Makes sense” Michael begins walking over and I stride a little further away until he catches me.

“Hey ladies” he hugs lamia and I’m next. I smell his cologne and melt. “you want a drink Z” I shake my head

“I don’t feel too hot right now so I’ll stick with water for the day” he nods eyes lingering on me for longer than a second. Lori comes out running his bare back and our contact is broken. While Lori begins talking to him I slip away downing the rest of my water. The nausea is finally gone and I sit on the lounge chair going on my phone. I put on my sunglasses shielding my eyes.

While I’m relaxing in the sun I notice Michael keeps staring at me. I see the small bulge in his shorts and I can’t help but bite my lip, mouth water at the taste of his dick down my throat.

A mid-height dark skin man starts walking my way and I see he has a pearly white smile similar to Michael’s. I get a better glimpse of his face. His name is Jayson. I’ve heard about him before. I heard he’s a player and he sleeps with anything that moves.

He sits next to my feet flashing his smile at me. I sit up with a small smile on my face. “Hey I’m Jayson Mikes friend”

“Yea I know. I’m Z”

“What’s that short for”

“Azina” he smiles scooting closer. I glance up seeing Mikes eyes never leaving me.

“That’s beautiful. Fitting for a beautiful woman” he bites his lip. I take a deep breath and take my sunglasses off. I stare directly into Michael’s eyes and he’s fuming. Dimples are prominent in his cheeks, nose flared, biceps flexed from how tense he is. Jayson moves even closer and that’s when Michael comes over.

“Hey Jay what y’all talking about?” He interjects with his nose held high. A small rage burns in my stomach at how he completely ruined my chance at something. Even if I was just playing Jaysons game right back at him.

“Her name. It’s pretty”

“Oh yea the two ‘A’s in her name stands for aggravated assault. She’s crazy man she beat niggas” he laughs. He’s not fully wrong “but she’s my kinda crazy. Speaking of Azina can I speak to you privately please? Jay you don’t mind right? Course not be right back” before I even have a chance to protest he grabs my wrist and my panties are soaked by the time we enter the glass double doors of his house that Lori happens to be staying in. Just hearing him call my name rather than my nickname has me wanting to be on my knees on this cold marble floor.

“What the hell is your issue?” I ask yanking my arm away. He grabs me again taking me upstairs through the neatly decorated white hallway. We get into his gold coated marble bathroom where he locks the door. I lean against the counter and he folds his arms “why have you been avoiding me”

“I-“

“And don’t lie to me” he asserts his dominance making my clit throb. Silence and heavy thick sexual tension fill the air and I look down at my long pink acrylic nails. He steps closer sealing any space between me and him. His large hand wraps around my throat making me bite my lip “you like seeing me get all jealous? Shit makes you wet mama?”

“Yes” I whimper. And just like that I’m putty in his hands. He pulls me up to his plump lips placing a wet kiss on them. Michael pulls off my duster of a swimsuit coverup. His large hands play with my breasts and my hand moved to his hard on. He’s rock solid now. His hand moves from my breast to my bikini bottoms rubbing my clit. My hips hunk and my hands move to his bicep as his plump lips kiss my neck. My body jerks as his thick fingers slide into my hole with ease. He begins pressing my g-spot like a button making me lose my breath. Michael moves up to my ear whispering “you’re mine”

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them dry turning me around some I’m facing the huge mirror above the sink. I grab the ledge bracing myself as he rolls my bottoms down spanking me in the process. I spread my cheeks feel his warm hard dick press inside of me. He fills me up and holds my hips bouncing me back to meet his thrusts. His breaths become heavy and ragged and my mouth drops open but nothing comes out.

Michael is pressing right on my g-spot making me lose my breath. “Daddy” I whimper.

“That’s my girl take all this shit. You wanna flirt with other niggas ima show you who you belong to” he wraps his hand around my throat quickening his pace. My eyes squeeze shut and my moans get louder. The sounds of our moans and my ass clapping fills the room but we have to keep it quiet so no one comes up here and finds us.

“You like when daddy fill you up bitch?”

“Yes I love it so much” my legs begin shaking as my orgasm approaches fast like a train. He gets close to my ear still pounding me out against the marble counter.

“Look at me when I make you cum” I bite my lip and his grip tightens on my neck. I open my eyes to the best of my ability as my entire body seizes in front of him. My body is on fire and he chuckles biting his lip “you look so fucking pretty taking all this dick like a good little whore”

I whimper jerking around and he pulls out watching my body tense up and convulse. He smacks my already shaking ass. Michael turns me around again putting me on the counter and he gets on one knee licking my pussy. He slurps you the mess he made moaning at the taste. I watch as he pulls my pussy lips back making sure to get as much of my clit as possible. My body writhes from still being sensitive and I grab the back of his head pushing him further in me. I pull off my bikini top rubbing my nipples while grinding on his face. My head falls back and he gives small licks making me even crazier than before. Michael comes up kissing my lips. I can taste myself on his tongue. He taps his dick on my clit before inserting himself again. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he wastes no time taking me to Poundtown.

His short nails claw down my back and he buries his head in my neck. “That’s it daddy right there” my nails take through his short waves as his hips ripple through me. My moans uncontrollably get louder and he covers my mouth pounding me harder “can’t scream now can you baby?” I whimper eyes rolling to the back of my head as I squirt on his dick “that’s what I want fuck I’m bout to cum” his growls get louder and he kisses me moaning. His body shakes when he leaks inside of me. My nails scrape down his back and he empties his load inside of me.

He stays inside of me staring deep into my eyes. I can’t help this feeling anymore but I need to for the sake of our friendship. Michael’s catches me in a kiss and for a split second I ignore my feelings and kiss him back. As if he were really mine. That thought stops me from going any further “I’m sorry for avoiding you”

“I understand mamas” he kisses me again and pull out grabbing a towel he wipes off my pussy and leans down placing a kiss on my clit making me gasp. I chuckle getting off the counter with his help. My legs shake and I laugh. I grab my clothes putting them back on and making sure I look like I did before I came up here.

“Mike” I hear Lori call from downstairs. To the best of my ability I walk to the door but before I open it Michael grabs my arm kissing me again. This one was more passion than lust. I smile pulling away and open the door. To see Lori coming in. I turn around and turn him around quickly “so this is the master bathroom?” I look at him

“Yea it’s marble counters and the gold trim it’s my favorite and there’s the waterfall shower in there” we walk towards the shower acting like he was explaining me the layout of the bathroom the whole time. I hear loris heels click in the bathroom “baby the boys are looking for you at the pool” he turns around nodding

“Ard come on Z” We walk past Lori and her eyes linger on us.

Me and Mike walk outside and he can’t stop staring at me. He stands at the front of the bar with a microphone “I wanna thank every one for coming out. I wanna thank Lori for putting this together couldn’t have done this without you babe” that word ‘babe’ leaves a stinging mark on my heart as Lori steps up beside her man. She kisses him and then looks at me. I walk backwards dipping out from the crowd. I go inside and grab the champagne I brought. This bottle wasn’t cheap so if they won’t drink it I will. I pour myself a glass and start sipping it. Michael comes in and once again it’s just us alone.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry. Look Michael as much as we both want it us being together might never happen simply because you and Lori are a thing and y’all are basically destined for marriage”

“Now you know I’ve been about you and only you for a while”

“I can’t tell cause I’m still single and you’re in a relationship” I sigh “I’m leaving this house is beautiful but you need to figure out what you really want” I extend my arms and give him a hug. He plants a kiss on my neck Mumbling the words I’m sorry again.

I grab my champagne and leave the house with a heavy heart and a cloudy mind. That nauseous feeling is back.

[mayraki]

✧ the hotel room - bucky barnes

-> violadvis’ gif

summary: after an awful night with your family the only thing you want to feel is bucky’s body against yours.

masterlist

check out my bucky barnes x oc series let’s play fire with fire

warnings: family members being mean. fights between reader and family. oral (f. receiving), cowgirl, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy). if there’s anything else, please, let me know. +18!!

“Did you order the pizza, baby?” You asked the second you walked into the living room. Bucky was sitting on the couch while his fingers were moving around the TV controller, touching every single button to get the movie going. You smiled at his confused face as you sat down next to him, waiting for his answer.

“I can handle a phone or putting a channel on, but a movie?” He said still with his eyes glued to the TV and all the options it was showing as his fingers were pressing more buttons. “I can’t seem to understand it.”

You let out a tiny laugh before taking the controller from his hand to press the button that said ‘back’ and then, when the movie list came back to the screen, you clicked another button to soon see the movie slowly loading to start. “There.”

“You just did that with two buttons, two!” He rested his back on the back of the couch frustrated. “I’ve been sitting here for like fifteen minutes. And yes, I order the pizza. It should come any minute now.”

You let out a tiny smile as your head went towards his chest to rest on it. “To be fair, I haven’t teached you yet how to put a movie on, so is alright if you can’t. It’s hard for you, Buck.”

“I just wanted everything to be ready for you, doll.” He said softly while his cold metal arm was now around your shoulder and his fingers were caressing your cheek, making you feel the coldness of them in your skin.

You locked eyes with him to get closer and leave a little kiss on his lips. Feeling his warm lips you let out a tiny smile enjoying the feeling of it against yours. He grabbed your cheek with his right hand to pull you even closer to him, even if there was no place left. “I think we have a couple of minutes left before the pizza gets here, doll.” Bucky said softly against your lips.

As his eyes were glued to yours, you could noticed the desire in them. You couldn’t blame him, since yours had the same thing in them. “Really?” You asked as a grin escaped your lips. “And what to do think we should do in those minutes we have?”

Without giving you an answer, he let out a smile and quickly, with his strong metal arm, managed to grab your waist and pulled you up to gently place you on his lap, while your two legs ended between his waist. Soon grabbing his cheeks with your hands, you pulled him in for another simple yet hot kiss. You could feel his hands on your waist grabbing them with strength, but then they quickly moved towards your back to touch the skin under your shirt. So, with slow moves you felt how his fingers started to trace your lower back while pulling your shirt up.

While the hotness in your body was growing and the kiss between you and Bucky was getting quicker, without giving him the chance to do something else you started to move your hips slowly against his pants. His hand quickly stopped to break the kiss and look at you with lust in his eyes. “Fuck, doll.” He said almost in a whisper gaining a smile from your lips. But the moment you were about to unite your lips with his once again, the doorbell rang, making you let out a sigh as your head rested on his shoulder.

“I guess it was less than a couple of minutes.” He said the moment you moved from his lap and ended right by his side. He got up while letting the biggest sigh and then walked towards the door as your eyes were following him, admiring every little detail of his body. “Thank you so much, have a good one.” He said with a little smile after giving the delivery guy the money and some tips. Instead of closing the door once the guy was gone, he looked down and stayed put for a second before kneeling down to grab something off the floor. Curious, you lifted your body over the back of the couch to have more sight on him and the floor, so noticing a couple of papers on his hand, you furrowed your eyebrows confused.

“What is that?”

He turned around and closed the door behind him. “I don’t know.” He said confused as he was walking towards the tiny table in front of the couch to leave the pizza on top of it. “Is like some sort of invitation.”

“What? Let me see.” The moment he sat down he handed you the paper. Quickly grabbing it you read the first word on top of the paper thinking that it was some sort of mistake, but as soon as your eyes were finished with that tiny title, your heart sinked to your stomach. “Oh my fucking God.”

“What?” Bucky asked going back to you since he was opening the box of pizza while you were reading. “What is it?”

You closed your eyes letting out a long sigh not wanting to read what was left on the paper. But the moment you felt the invitation leaving your hand, you opened them again.

“The future Mr. and Mrs.” Bucky started reading. “Join us for an engagement party honoring. George and Kimberly.” As soon as he finished he turned to you with his eyebrow furrowed, confused like the first time he saw it. “Do you know these people?”

You slowly nodded tilting your head to the left while your eyes were slowly wondering around the invitation. “George. That’s my little brother.” You pointed at his name in the paper which made Bucky turn to it once again, but then soon went back to you.

“Your brother is engaged?”

“Apparently. I didn’t even know he was with someone.” You shook your head. “But I think me going is not an option. So you can throw it away.” You got closer to the pizza and grabbed a piece. Ready to grab the controller to play the movie, you took your free hand towards it but when you noticed Bucky still reading the invitation, you looked at him. “What?”

“Why aren’t you going?” He asked locking eyes with you. “I mean, I know the story you have with your parents and all, but he’s your brother.”

“I’ll call him later and celebrate it with him and his fiancé alone, I’m not putting up with my parents and my stupid family. Buck, I’m not discussing this, so, c’mon, let’s play the movie.”

After you grabbed the controller and started the movie, Bucky let out a low ‘alright’ and proceeded to grab a piece of pizza to enjoy the movie with you.

After that day, you definitely forgot about the invitation and the party. You moved on by living your life like you did years ago. With your work, your tiny apartment, new friends, and then soon, with your boyfriend Bucky Barnes. Your mind was busy to even give it a tiny second of thought, either way, you already made a decision. You weren’t going.

But even though you tried, the moment that you saw the invitation once again on the tiny table in front of the couch the next night, you stared it for too long as the memories were slowly going back to your mind.

The tears, the screams, the loud fights, the fake relationship to please people. You remembered those days to be the worst years of your life. You being pressured to be someone else just to be the rich happy family your mother always wanted it to be. Your dad with his incredible obsession with his work, that at some point you didn’t even see him for weeks. And then, when he was home, he was either drinking or watching a football game, not even giving five seconds of a attention to the five year old little kid trying to show him a drawing that they made. Then, it came your older brother. He was a nightmare. People always talk about having a older brother as something so fun and memorable, but not with yours. Nothing about him you wanted to remember. Making your childhood a living nightmare, calling you names, breaking your toys, insulting you as you two were growing up but then pretending to be the innocent little boy for mommy when she walked by. He was the spoiled brat you tried to escape since you started to think for yourself.

The only one that managed to make your days better was your little brother, George, the only one you remain with a little relationship the moment you left the house. He was the one more similar to you. Not wanting to be fake just to please the rich families around you, liking to just be chill and watch movies instead of going to fancy parties like your mother insisted. He was your best friend growing up. Even if he was like your twin, he had at least something that went with the family, he liked to work with your dad. That was the only thing that made him survive all those years back in the house. But you didn’t have anything. It broke your heart to leave him when you did, but it had to be done for you to be better and enjoy your life.

So, when you got the chance to leave them, you did. As soon as you turned 18, you grabbed every little saving you had from your job and rented the tiniest apartment you could afford. And from then, you built a family and a life of your own, trying to leave every ugly memory you had from them on the past.

You weren’t going.

You repeated as you sat down on the couch to rest and feel your body relax as it was trying to release everything bad from the day. But when you closed your eyes, the sensation of your phone vibrating in your back pocket made you opened them again. Knowing that it was almost dinner time and Bucky always called you around that time, without reading the name in your screen you answered the call to later bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You said with a smile.

“Hi big sis.” You heard the voice of your little brother on the other side of the phone making you sit up straight as a surprised smile came out of your lips. “Nice to hear you again.”

“Georgie. What- what are you doing calling me?”

“I wanted to say hi, you know, since you’re my big sister and all.” Hearing his voice filled your chest with happiness as the memories of him and you playing around appeared on your mind. You two were just kids... but not anymore.

“You sound like a man, G.” You heard a little laugh coming from him.

“Yeah, well, it got deeper. Hey, I wanted to ask you something. Did you got the invitation for-?”

“Yeah, I did.” You nodded. “Why didn’t you told me you were seeing someone?”

“Y/n, I can ask you the same thing.”

You let out a tiny laugh. “Touché.”

“So...” You could notice the hesitation on his voice. He wanted to ask you something and was looking for the courage to do it. Deep down you knew what it was, but still waited for him to ask it. “Are you coming?”

You let out a tiny sigh and closed your eyes feeling your stomach turn. You hated feeling like that, like you would disappoint your little brother. But you didn’t want to go. “I’m sorry, Georgie. It’s just-”

“You don’t want to see mom, dad or the rest of the family, I get it. I do, believe me.” The hurt on his voice made your heart shatter into pieces. “But- I would love to see you there, Y/n.”

“I know, I know. I suck. But what if I just take you two to a fancy dinner. Just the three of us a week after the party. My treat.”

You let out a tiny proud smile because of your idea, maybe that was going to fix everything, but the moment your heard a sigh coming from his mouth, the smile quickly disappeared. “I would love that, but we leave to Mexico a day after the party because half of her family lives there.”

“How about after?”

“We leave for a year.”

“A year?” You asked softly disappointed. You let your back rest on the back of the couch as you closed your eyes once again. The moment you were about to open your mouth, the front door opening cut you off. Bucky walk into the apartment holding bags of food and a little smile on his face.

You turned away from him as you heard your brother speak again. “Can you come, Y/n?” He asked with the same tone you did seconds ago. As soon as a little sigh came out of your mouth Bucky sat down by your side and left a gentle kiss on your cheek. But noticing the strange look on your face, soon furrowed his eyebrows and mouthed ‘who’s that?’ but you didn’t answered, you just stayed silent not knowing what to say next. “I would love for her to know my big sister, I know she would like you, a lot. And I know you would too.”

“I love you too much, you know that?” You said after letting out a long sigh.

“Is that a yes?” He asked excited. Noticing this, you let out a little smile and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m going.”

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m gonna see you. This is amazing. I love you sis!” As soon as a laugh came out of your mouth Bucky took his right hand and placed it on your thigh to gently caress it. You did the same and took your hand towards his, resting it on top to wrap your fingers together. “Maybe you can bring that boyfriend of yours, too.”

“Oh,” you locked eyes with him with the intention to say that he wasn’t available, not wanting him to deal with your family, but instead you shrugged your shoulders and let out a softly: “Maybe.”

The moment you ended the call Bucky got closer to your face with a little smile still placed on his lips. He looked down to yours as you bit your lower lip, looking straight to the desire on his eyes. “Hi.” He let out almost on a whisper.

“Hi.”

He ended the space and united his lips with yours to feel that warm sensation against your skin. His hand now on your cheek made the kiss even deeper but before it could lead to something else, he broke the kiss and without moving further away from you, asked: “Alright, who is the person you love too much and where are you going?”

You let out a tiny laugh hearing his jealousy tone but with a little bit of joke in it. Grabbing his cheek to caress it with your thumb you looked down to his lips but quickly went back to his eyes, melting under his sight immediately. “My little brother, and I guess I’m going to the engagement party.”

“You are? I thought you said you didn’t want to.”

“I’m going because of my brother, that’s it.” He nodded before giving you another simple kiss on your lips before getting up to get the food he brought. As you were following his every move with your eyes, you bit your lower lip wondering if you should tell him about what George told you.

Inviting Bucky to the party meant him finally meeting your entire family. Meeting the people that once made you feel miserable and have the worst years of your life. Who knows what could happen? Maybe nothing, maybe a lot. But you did know one thing, if you were going to deal with your family the entire night you definitely needed Bucky by your side.

>>>

“This sucks.” You said letting your head rest on the back of your sit by Bucky’s side as he was driving the car. You felt his hand touch your thigh which lead you to slightly tilt your head towards him.

“You looo beautiful tonigh, doll.” He said softly giving you a quick look. Inevitable, you let out a smile as your were biting your lower lip. The way this man made you feel was incredible, making you feel the best of things even on the worst moments. “It’s gonna go fast, I promise.”

“I hope so.” As soon as you said those words the giant hotel building covered in bright lights appeared in front of you. Fancy people walking up the big and long stair while smiles where plastered on their faces. Some women even had white gloves on their hands, the men were wearing expensive suits, that made you smell the old and extra fancy perfume from your car.

Bucky handed the keys to the man working as the valet and then quickly walked closer to you while you were getting out of the car. The dark green dress you were wearing quickly fall towards your knees the moment your feet touched the ground. It started to move along the wind as well as your hair making you feel a little bit chilly, but the moment Bucky touched your waist to start walking and you felt his body next to yours, it all immediately started to fade away.

As you were slowly walking the steps up to the front door you could feel your heart beating faster. Even if you didn’t want to feel nervous to not make the night worst, seeing all those people being fancy like you remembered when you were a kid made you bring all those awful memories back. You let out a long breath the second you noticed you were next to step into the building.

Unintentionally, as you were waiting you looked inside the hotel to check if anyone you recognised was in your sight. But luckily, nobody that you knew was there. Just old rich people talking and having drinks in the reception.

“I didn’t know your family was this rich.” Bucky said softly by your side while his eyes were wondering around the big hotel. You nodded but before you could let anything out it was your time to say your name to enter the party.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You said with a little smile to the man with a suit standing outside the front door and it didn’t took him long to find your name and nodding with a smile. Seeing him move to the side you started walking towards the inside, but not before receiving a key from the man you talked to seconds earlier. “A key?” You asked confused the moment it touched your hand but it was too late to ask since he had already moved on to the next in line.

As yours and Bucky’s eyes were wondering around the room, you slightly opened your mouth surprised at what they were seeing. It was as fancy and expensive as those parties you attended with your family when you were young. But your surroundings didn’t seem to matter to you, all you could think about was you reuniting with your family. It made your heart beat faster as your fingers couldn’t stop playing around with themselves. Turning around your rings, pulling them on and off leaving heavy breaths as your eyes were still following the people around you.

Noticing this, Bucky grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, making you turn around to face him and unite his lips with yours. As soon as you felt his warmth against you the speed of you heart started to slow down as well as the air coming in and out of your nose. You let out a tiny smile the moment he took his right hand and placed it against your cheek to slowly caress it with his thumb. “Ready to go in?” He asked softly and you nodded, after letting out a tiny sigh and realising this was it.

“Y/n!” You heard a male voice calling your name but as soon as you turned around a couple of arms wrapped your body with them, making you soon recognise your little brother.

“Gergie.” You said softly letting your chin rest on his shoulder. “You know how to throw a party, baby brother.”

“Oh, c’mon.” He said once he broke the hug. “You know it wasn’t me who did all of this.” You nodded but then quickly turn to Bucky who was standing by your side with a little smile. As you were getting ready to present him, George spoke before you. “And this is the boyfriend, am I right?” George took his hand to shake Bucky’s while he just nodded with a smile.

“James Barnes, you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky, alright.” George did a quick look to you as a grin came out of his lips but before he could let out a word a girl called his name. “Oh, that’s Kimberly. She needs me. Y/n, I’ll introduce you two later so don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t.” You said with a smile, even if the first thing you wanted to do was ran as fast as you could from that party.

>>>

Since the moment you sat down on your table next to Bucky and some old random people, the only thing that you did was eat and have a laugh with Bucky. He knew that you were ready to have an awful night, he knew your story and how bad it was, so he made the mental note to make it a good night for you. Kissing you, making you laugh, remembering embarrassing moments or just stupid things you two did together. At one point it felt like you two were just in a bar having a normal date together.

Even if that helped, you still felt the looks of the people around you on him and you. People that you used to know as a kid or just because you had a similar face as your family, making them wonder who you were.

Soon later, George went looking for you with the intention to introduce you to his future wife. Even if you expected her to be the rich woman your mother would want his son to marry, she was the opposite of that. She was one of the sweetest girls ever, with her beautiful smile that would light the room and with her funny personality she did made you laugh a couple of times since you started talking to her. George was happy, you did noticed that. He was excited and proud the moment you fell into a conversation with Kimberly about a movie you two liked, seeing his sister and his fiancé like each other was all he wanted and it made him fall into a more deep whole of happiness. And that, was all that mattered to you. After spending 20 minutes talking to each other, Kimberly was needed to be somewhere else and, after saying goodbye with a smile, left you and George alone.

“She’s sweet, G.” You said the moment you noticed your little brother waiting for your reaction. “You better now fuck it up.”

He let out a tiny laugh before shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” He did a quick look towards your table to see Bucky having a nice conversation with the old lady by his side. “You better don’t fuck that up, either.”

“Uh, uh,” you shook your head “I’m the big sister here, I say what you do and don’t.” You said jokingly gaining a laugh coming out his mouth. “I haven’t seen... mom. Or dad, yet.”

“They’re around.” George said with his eyes wondering around the room but once he came back to you, he let out a tiny smile.

“I know they’re around, but thanks to you and your fiancé for inviting like a thousand people so is not as easy and I thought it would be.” You said leading George to let out a tiny laugh as he was shaking his head.

“You’ve met Kim so you can go if you want, seeing you happy and hanging out with my girl is what I wanted for tonight. But, if you want to stay, the key they gave you on the entrance is for your room. You can use it when the party is over if you stay until late.”

You nodded. “Damn. You did take this party seriously.”

“It was Kim, her idea.” You nodded already knowing the answer. Soon your laugh joined George’s as he was getting closer to hug your body tightly. But just like before, he was needed somewhere else.

“I think Mrs. Harrison is flirting with your boyfriend.” He said before letting out a big a smile and turning around leaving you confused. But once you turned around to see your boyfriend and noticed the old lady he was talking to earlier was now closer and was trying to touch his strong metal arm.

Biting your lower lip trying to not let out laugh you started to walk towards them as you eyes were glued to Bucky trying to be as friendly as possible to the old lady flirting with him.

“Going somewhere, little sis?” You heard a voice behind you making you stop quickly.

“Michael.” You said annoyed before turning around to lock eyes with the tall man in front of you.

“Nice to see you, Y/n.” He said with an arrogant smile as his hand was holding a glass of champagne.

“I would say the same, Michael...” you said with a smile “but that would be a lie.”

“Mom and dad know you’re here.” He said ignoring your comment completely. “You know?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Good for them.”

The arrogant smile still on his face made you feel disgusted. He was standing like he was the best thing on the world and wanted to show it. But the only thing he had was dad’s money, nothing more. “You’re stupid for leaving all of this, Y/n.”

“I’m happy, Michael, believe it or not some people just don’t need millions to be happy.”

“You? Happy? With that-” he pointed behind you towards Bucky “man? He looks like a man that you just picked from the street and took him here. C’mon, y/n, you can’t be serious.”

You let out a tiny fake laugh and walked closer to him to make it very clear for him: “You’re just a little bitch, Michael. And if you’re just insecure about your love life because you could never make a girl happy like ‘that man’ does, just say that.” Even if he tried his hardest to now show that your words hit him, you definitely knew and let out a tiny smile before turning around to walk towards your table, but before you could, Bucky was already behind you.

“Is everything alright?” He asked softly with his eyes glued to Michael behind you. Nodding, you grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the dance floor where some people started dancing as soon as the music became louder.

Wanting to feel Bucky’s body against yours, you pulled him closer as soon as you where surrounded by people dancing. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he grabbed your waist and moved your hips along the music. You smiled to yourself since you noticed the little dance lessons you used to gave him for modern music paid off since his hands were moving your body like a professional.

Grabbing your hand to turn you around, he wrapped his fingers with yours and spin you around to finally grab your cheek and unite his lips with yours in a simple kiss. Playing with your lips he moved them around making the kiss even more deeper while your bodies were feeling the music. He grabbed your waist with his two hands as a little laugh escaped your lips the moment you broke the kiss. Everything bad you felt moments ago was gone, and your chest was nothing but filled with electricity and warmth.

After that song came another one and another one, making you and Bucky dance for at least five songs without a break. But as soon as you felt your throat getting dry you pointed towards the table and Bucky nodded without taking his hand of your waist ready to lead you to the drinks.

“I’ll get you something.” He said loudly enough against your ear before giving it a little kiss and with a smile, leaving you behind.

As your eyes were following him back away, you gently bit your lower lip enjoying your sight. His arm on that shirt looked extremely good so you found yourself not blaming the old lady wanting to touch them before. His back was wide and it was fit, it could be seen through the shirt. Your eyes slowly went to his hand making you remember all those times he picked you up to lead you the bed and do all those things you loved so much.

He was all yours. And that single thought, made your insides go wild.

“You seem happy, dear.” As soon as you heard those words and that voice your breathing unintentionally cut short and your heart sinked to your stomach. Not wanting to turn around you closed your eyes hoping that it was just your imagination playing games with you, but that voice spoke again. “Y/n, I’m talking to you.”

“Mom.” You said the moment you turned around to lock eyes with those dark eyes. She had a little smile on her red lips while her hand was holding a glass of whiskey. That old dress made her waist look thinner and her legs to seem longer. Like she always liked.

“It was nice seeing you dance with that man, you know, like you do in the night club.” You immediately took the word ‘nice’ as sarcasm for the way she said it, making you let out a tiny fake smile trying to eat every bad word your brain wanted you to scream. “But he looks like a good man, Y/n.” You furrowed your eyebrows confused at her nice words, but then when she opened her mouth once again, you went back to normal. “Never thought you were going to end up with someone like him, to be honest. Always thought you were gonna end up running away with someone covered in tattoos and with no future whatsoever.”

“Someone who’s covered in tattoos doesn’t mean that they don’t have a future, mom.”

“Ah, there it is.” She said nodding. “You, never agreeing with me.” You rolled your eyes getting up from the table to leave her behind not wanting to face her, but then her voice stopped you. “You got a job, Y/n?”

“Yes I do, mother.”

“A good one? Do they pay you good?”

“Yes-”

“And your place, is it big?”

“Big enough for one.”

“Oh,” she said quickly to then soften her tone “so you don’t live with this man.”

“No- what is this? Some sort of interrogation?” You asked loudly gaining a couple of eyes on you. Noticing this, your mom looked around angry at the way you behaved that walked closer to you and grabbed your arm to pull you aside. “Mom, what are you doing?!”

“Lower our voice, would you?!” She asked in a loud whisper while looking around and letting out fake smiles to the people around you two to let them know everything was alright.

“Oh, so that’s why.” You said while looking at her and a loud laugh came out of your lips. “You still don’t want to break that perfect family fake shit you built when I was a kid, got it.”

“Watch your language!” She quickly turned to you and pointed her index fingers in your face. “You broke our family the moment you ran away. The only one to blame here is you.”

“Me? I broke it? What about you wanting me and my little brother to be something we’re not? You literally built something fake! All because you wanted to be the perfect family and make everyone envy you! You didn’t give a shit if any of us were hurting.” As you felt the anger and pain grow inside your body, not wanting to make a scene and ruin the party for your brother you closed your eyes to let a big breath out.

“You could never understand what I did for you when you were growing up, the way you treat me-! Disgusting!” She said in a loud whisper. “You’re so ungrateful. I gave you everything you wanted and now-”

“Everything I wanted? Back then the only thing I wanted was for you to be there for me. But the only thing you cared about was you and your perfect little family. But I didn’t give a shit so you started to treat me like you didn’t care at all-”

“Please! I did care.”

“Throwing money at my face wasn’t going to make me do all the things you wanted. I’m not Micheal.” You felt your throat hurting but at that point, you couldn’t stop. “I just wanted for you to be my mother, to care, to caress my hair and tell me everything was gonna be alright. But you didn’t.” You got closer to her face and felt the air coming out of your mouth mixing with hers. You could noticed the anger in her eyes but just like she always did, she would bottle them up and save them, showing nothing but fake happiness and wealth. “You treated me like I was just trash. And, oh boy, I know how much you don’t like trash.” Since there was no words coming out of her mouth you knew that you were hitting the part that annoyed her the most. Not being able to control you and having you in the palm of her hand. “Remember what you said to me? The moment that I left the house? You screamed at me: When you fail don’t you ever come back because this door won’t be open for you.” You felt a tear coming down your cheek as you were getting ready to say your last words. “See me now, mom? I didn’t fail. Are you disappointed?”

Slowly shaking your head you turn to the side looking for Bucky and once you noticed him waiting for your drink, you stepped aside ready to leave your mom behind, but once again, her voice stopped you. “He’s gonna leave you, you know?” She said softly yet intimidating. You stared at Bucky as the tight nod became even stronger in your chest. “A man like that won’t stay with a girl like you.”

Without hesitating, you turned around to face her and say with the same exact tone as her: “If he does, don’t wait for me to come home and run into your arms.”

As quickly as your feet allowed you, you turned around and made your way towards Bucky, who was now holding your drink with a little smile on his lips. But at soon as he noticed the sadness plastered all over your face and the little tear dripping down your cheek, his eyes were now covered in worry as he was getting closer and closer to you. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Can we just get out of here?” You asked softly grabbing his arm and he quickly nodded by letting the drink aside and wrapping his fingers with you ready to walk out the door.

Now in the reception, as you were walking away from the party you noticed all the people making line while waiting their cars. Not wanting to wait, you stopped as an idea came to your head. Bucky gave you a strange look the moment you turned to the side and started to walk up the stairs towards the room. The moment you grabbed the key from the pocket of your dress and read the number ‘14’ to look at your designated room and get away from everyone else once and for all.

“What are we doing here, Y/n?” Bucky asked confused by your side but you didn’t respond as you were still focused on finding your room. The moment you arrived at some dark corner and saw the little ‘14’ in the door, you quickly opened the door with the key and walked inside the room dragging Bucky with you.

“Fucking finally.” You said sitting on the bed and covering your face with your hands annoyed. Ignoring how confused Bucky was, he got closer to you and sat by your side to gently caress your shoulder with his right hand. You uncovered you face the moment you felt his lips leaving a simple kiss on your cheek. Letting out a little smile you touched your forehead with his and let your breathing mix with his, enjoying the little hot breath of his against your skin.

“What happened, doll?” He asked softly.

“My family, that happened. She just- sucks.”

Taking your head towards his chest, you rested against it while his chin was resting on top of your head still with his fingers caressing the side of your shoulder. Letting out a breath to relax your chest you closed your eyes and felt the hot air coming out of your mouth. “We can stay here if you want.” Bucky said almost in a whisper after a couple of seconds in silence.

You looked up to wonder your eyes around the room. It was definitely fancy. Something that you weren’t used to. The moment your eyes stopped at the tiny fridge and you noticed the five different types of beer sitting in there you tiled your head and for the first time after a long time you let out a genuine little smile. “Yeah, we can stay here for tonight. I want to break my dad’s wallet.” Bucky confused followed your body as you got up and walked towards the fridge to take out two beers. You waved them gaining a little laugh from him, and that unintentionally, made the tight nod you had in your chest to slowly get undone.

>>>

“I can’t believe my dad rented an entire hotel to make an engagement party. I mean, look at this-” you said getting up from the bed to sit down on top of the dresser “I can use this as a seat!” Bucky let out a little laugh as his eyes were staring at you. Once you looked up at him, you felt a little tingle in your stomach making you bite your lower lip.

The way that he was laying on the bed with just a simple black shirt on and his pants, his hand under his head making his arm look even more strong than it already was. As soon as your eyes noticed the slight piece of stomach of his since his shirt was a little bit lift up, your mind started to go wild without a warning. Imagining your fingers against his stomach, tracing his abs up and down slowly while his hands were gently touching your thighs making you weak like he always did. Your legs between his waist feeling him under you, filling your bodies with lust and desire as the minutes were passing. And before you could think of something else, you started to feel your skin getting warmer.

“Come here.” You said almost in a whisper pointing with your head towards your body. Bucky let out a tiny smile before getting up from the bed and slowly walk to your body that was still sitting on top of the dresser. Opening your arms you instantly wrapped them around his neck the moment he arrived in front of you. Resting your head on his shoulder you started to feel his perfume entering your nose, and wanting to feel it even more deeper, you took your nose and gently pressed it against his neck. Noticing this, Bucky started to caress your thigh on top of the dress you were wearing after taking a little step closer to you body and feel the warmth your body was giving him.

The poor light surrounded the room didn’t let you have a good look at him even though he was close, but you knew since the moment you stared at those pink and thick lips you knew that you wanted them against yours. So, without waiting another second grabbing his cheek with your hand you pulled him closer and ended the space between you two.

Immediately feeling his soft lips against yours, you opened your legs wide to let his body between them and deepen the kiss even more. You wanted to feel the electricity running through your veins, so grabbing his other cheek with your other hand, you pulled him even closer against you to feel every single angle of his lips on yours. The kiss was happening in a slow speed but even if it was, you could feel the hotness of it.

The way his lips was playing with yours it looked like it was the first time you two had kiss, wanting to remember every single detail of the other so taking the time to experience and taste each other. But the moment you felt his tongue touching you, you opened your mouth even wider to let it twist with yours. His soft and quick tongue made its way to yours and started to control it up and down slowly, making your heart sink to your stomach as the butterflies were going wild inside of you.

Every time he moved his fingers against your thigh the more you wanted to feel them between your legs. You could feel it tingling under your dress and underwear, feeling the wetness starting slowly inside. Taking your right hand you grabbed the one that he had on your thigh to take it towards your underwear. Breaking the kiss, he slightly moved backwards with his eyes locked in with yours, seeing the little sparkle in them as you let out a tiny smile. “Fuck me, Bucky. I want you to fuck me right now.”

He let out a long breath making you feel the hot air hitting your face. There was nothing else that you wanted to experience more than him inside of you, fingers, his dick, anything of him would be enough. Maybe it was the anger that you had inside of you for fighting your mother that it was making you feel that way so quickly, or maybe those last words that she let out to you... you didn’t know. All you knew is that you wanted Bucky to press his body against yours and fuck you right on that moment.

Gently grabbing your cheek he pulled in to give you another kiss, but then quickly broke it to look you in the eyes and see the lust in them. You could feel the sweat starting to come out of your forehead as he slowly started to trace your underwear up and down. Letting out a little breath of enjoyment, you grabbed his arm to feel it move against you. “Fuck, Bucky.” You said in a whisper making you shiver and let your head rest on the wall behind you. Embracing every movement he was making you opened your legs wider and let out yet another long breath.

As your chest felt heavier you let go of his arm and placed them beside your body to lean your back backwards and not arche it in the wrong way in the process. His fingers were still slowly tracing your underwear up and down while his other hand was slowly caressing your thigh. But once you opened your eyes you felt his hand gently tracing your skin and stopped once it arrived in your waist. The coldness of it could be felt even if you had your dress still on, but according to Bucky and his hand, it wasn’t going to be in your body much longer.

“Lift your waist for me, doll.” He said softly making you feel shivers down your body. Without questioning it, you pushed your body upwards with your hands to let Bucky, with a quick move, take off your underwear and leave your dress up to your stomach, softly resting on your waist and dresser under you.

Without giving you a time to take a breath, Bucky took his fingers and quickly touched your folds to trace them up and down gently. His index finger was making tiny circles while it was going downwards towards your orifice. But once there, he didn’t sink it in like you expected, instead, he joined with his middle finger the message he was doing to your folds. Making you want for more, he didn’t speed it either. “Bucky-” you whispered almost begging for him to touch you more deeper. He knew what you wanted, but he had the need to treat you like a princess and take time to make the final line even better.

“What, doll?” He asked looking at you waiting for your eyes. But you didn’t open them, the enjoyment of his fingers against you was making you fall into so much lust and desire that you didn’t even noticed them being closed. “Open your eyes, doll. I want to see how much you want me in your eyes.”

As he told you, you slowly let your eyes see the man that you had in front of you. Once you did, a little smile escaped his lips and without making you wait another second, took his thumb and started to caress your clit gently, doing tiny circles, rubbing it side to side, left and right, every movement possible.

“Shit-” you said as soon as you felt his thumb gaining speed but he took it down immediately, making you feel your folds warmer and tighter between your legs. He loved to see you under his touch, messy and letting out breaths or words you couldn’t control. He adored it. So taking his sweet time with you wasn’t news for you.

The air getting hotter around you made you feel your little hairs getting stick to your skin as the seconds were passing and Bucky was still focused on your folds and clit. Switching fingers, he took his middle and index finger towards your clit and quickly regain the speed not wanting you to lose everything you were feeling under his touch. Now, having his thumb free he slowly rubbed your orifice which lead you to let out a tiny smile.

“What? You want me inside of you, doll?” He asked softly but with a little bit of cheekiness on his voice. Biting your lower lip as a smile was coming out, you were ready to pull him in for a kiss, but before you could lift your hand up feeling his thumb inside of you made you stop and let out a tiny moan. Getting closer to you he paused right before your lips and whispered softly: “You better we quiet, we don’t want the people in the room next to us hearing what we’re doing.”

“Fuck them, Buck. Fuck all of them.” You answered softly before ending the space between you two to give him a little kiss. Wanting to take control of it, you made the rhythm slow and moved your lips with decision. But you in control didn’t last long since the moment Bucky started to move his thumb inside of you, you pulled away breaking the kiss to close your eyes with strength. Even if it was as simple as his thumb, his movements were the thing that got you weak against him. He started to make slow circles as he was getting in and out of you. Moving his arm up and down you grabbed it once again to feel it move and make your body even hotter because of it. As he was moving you could feel the tight nod becoming stronger in your lower stomach. Making little tingles as you arched your back feeling all of his fingers speed their rhythm. But bofore you could reach that wanted orgasm, he stopped and took his fingers off you.

With your heavy breathing you locked eyes with him as he was letting out a little smile. Taking you hand to his cheek you pulled him closer and united his lips with yours to feel his skin against yours like you wanted. Slowly after leaving your lips, he went down to your neck and left little kisses on it while your skin shivered under his hot breath. Arriving at your chest, he soon grabbed your dress and quickly pulled it up your body, leaving you with naked in front of him. His eyes took their liberty to admire your bare body as your eyes were still glued to his face. The fascination he had while watching your body made the butterflies in your stomach to fly uncontrollably as well as a little laugh escaping your lips. Hearing this, Bucky locked eyes with you and let out a tiny smile. “You’re so damn beautiful, Y/n.” He said softly but he didn’t give you a kiss like before, instead, he went down to your lower stomach and started to leave gentle kisses on it.

His movements there didn’t last long since he quickly moved towards your folds and clit to press kisses in them as well. Locking eyes with you, he took out his tongue and waited for you to let out a long breath before licking your innner lips with it. Arriving at your clit, with the tip of his tongue started to trace it around slowly making you let out a simple low moan. Slowly speeding up, you could feel once again the warmth against your folds and lower stomach. The tingle sensation made you let out another moan and quickly look towards Bucky to see his tongue moving uncontrollably against your clit.

“Please, Buck, don’t stop.” You whispered grabbing his hair and wrapping your fingers with it. Your legs started to slightly shake between his head and without being able to control it, you lifted your thighs and widen them more to feel him against you even more deeper. You could feel the wetness of your walls dripping inside of you, and that was soon handled by his middle and ring finger quickly sinking into you. Seconds after you could feel your walls pounding as his fingers were moving every single way possible. Your clit was almost reaching that wanted point the moment with his free hand grabbed your inner thigh to widen your folds even bigger to help his tongue and make you finish. Seeing the lust in your face Bucky speeded his tongue as much as he could in your clit as well as his fingers inside of you.

Closing your eyes as soon as you felt your body melting and getting weaker under his touch, the warmth inside and out between your legs made you let out a softly moan as the orgasm was slowly fading away. Your chest was quickly moving as air was coming in and out of your mouth. The moment you felt your hand that was resting on his head lift up, you opened your eyes to see Bucky heading towards your neck to leave a simple kiss in it. Soon he moved towards your lips and stopped right in front of them while his eyes were glued to yours.

“You’re so good to me, Bucky.” You said as a little smile escaped your lips. He grabbed your waist and pulled your body closer to yours making you widen your legs between his body. While your breathing was now going back to normal, Bucky was now gently caressing your naked body up and down as your hot breath was mixing with his. Grabbing one of his cheeks to give him another kiss, you wrapped your legs around his waist and took your other hand towards his chest to slowly caress it down until it reached his belt. Slower making it undone, once it was lose, you quickly pulled it and dropped it on the floor making a loud noise in the process.

Reaching down to his crotch area you massaged it gaining a little smile escaping from his lips. Soon enough, a little bulge appeared against your hand. “That fast, huh?” You asked cheekily once you broke the kiss.

“It’s all you, doll. All you.”

Uniting your lips with his once again, you lifted your waist the moment you felt his hand going towards your ass to lift it up and walk towards the bed. Surprisingly, instead of going towards the comfy mix of pillows on top of the bed, with his strong body placed yours on the floor making you feel the coldness of it immediately. But you didn’t mind, wherever he wanted you be, you were going to be there.

Without breaking the kiss you took your hands towards his pants and clumsily pulled it down towards his knees. With a quick move he had no longer clothes and was as naked as you on the floor. Since he was kneeled down in front of you, a little smile escaped your lips as his big erection was all your eyes could see. Biting your lower lip you locked eyes with him and noticed the desire to touch you in them, he got closer to your face making you feel his dick against your folds. Letting out a long breath of enjoyment you close your eyes embracing every movement he was doing. With his arms by your side he pulled in for another kiss but soon took his right arm to grab his dick and slowly sink into your vagina and feel that incredible sensation he always gave you between your walls.

“Fuck.” He whimpered while slowly entering with his dick. Once fully inside, he dropped his hand by your side and flexed down to unite his lips with yours again. He slightly dropped his body on top of yours for you to feel his V area against you. Taking your hand to the side of his stomach, you started to slowly caress it while his body was still on top of you waiting for you to get used to his dick inside you. But knowing that it didn’t took you long, since you’ve felt it before, he started to grind against you making you let out a moan in the process.

His skin rubbing your clit gently made you shiver under his body and grab his ass with your other hand to feel it move. “You look so good under me, doll.” He said with his heavy breathing against your lips. You took off your tongue and touched his lips as the hotness of his and your body was raising.

Feeling his dick fill your body with lust the more he moved inside of you, you bit your lower lip avoiding the loud moan wanting to come out. Stopping with the grinding, he slowed down and took off his dick off of you to gently rest it against your folds. Catching your breath you took your hand and started to brush his hair with your fingers while he was still holding his body with his hands beside your head.

Not wanting to waste time, you grabbed his dick and gently started to rub your fingers against his tip. He smiled and let out a breath. “You’re such a horny girl.” He whispered before giving you a kiss.

“It’s all your fault- I have to take care of my needs.” The second you were finished with your sentence you wrapped your legs around his waist and with your whole strength, pulled your body upward to hug his shoulder with one arm as your body swing to the side and end up right on top of him. Surprised at your move, Bucky let out a big horny smile to soon take his eyes towards your body. His metal hand started to play with one of your breast as you grabbed his dick and started to rub it with your hand up and down. “Fuck..” he whimpered closing his eyes. Not giving him a chance to take a breath you moved your hips towards his waist and quickly sink his dick inside of you.

Digging your fingers on his chest to help your movements you started to grind against his dick and let out a tiny smile seeing him getting weak under you. With quick hand, he grabbed your ass and started riding him with you. Taking control of the rhythm he started to move you faster as little moans were starting to come out of his mouth. Wanting to feel them against your ear you reached down and placed your head in his shoulder. Shivering under his breath you touched your chest to his while feeling his dick making your walls pound once again. You could feel your lower stomach shaking as his hands were moving you quicker on top of his.

Taking your lips towards him you placed a little kiss on them and without moving, you started to move your ass up and down making his dick go in and out of you. “Shit- Y/n, don’t stop.” He said in a whisper making you melt while your breathing was getting heavier and your legs were getting tired.

Saving you from your legs not working anymore, Bucky grabbed your waist and with a quick move, changed positions. Once again, you found yourself under his body while his dick was going in and out. Not ending with the rhythm and your bodies starting to feel tense, he placed his hands beside your head as the noise of his body hitting yours hit your ears, making you feel even hotter.

You grabbed his chin to pull him closer to your face and look at those blue eyes and the lust in them as he was reaching that wanted organsm. With your other hand, you took your fingers towards your clit and stated to rub it to feel the combination of him inside of you and your clit, wanting you to shatter when the end came.

He started to grunt as he was strongly and deeply sinking into you. “C’mon, Buck, cum for me baby.” You whispered with a heavy breathing feeling your walls strongly pounding and your clit letting out a slight tingle feeling.

Now the room was filled with your moans, his grunts and his body hitting yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist as soon you felt your clit shattering against your fingers. You could see the lust on his eyes as he let out a moan, feeling your insides getting filled with his cum you grabbed his cheeks and gave him a kiss as you and him could feel the orgasm slowly getting away from your bodies.

The moment he dropped his body in top of yours you started to caress the side of his stomach as his and your breathing was trying to go back to normal, while your body was processing what just happened. “Fuck- Y/n.” He let out gaining a little laugh from your mouth.

“Fuck indeed.” You grabbed his cheek so your thumb could trace it and his lips and you eyes were wondering around his eyes, loving every second of it.

He moved a piece of hair hanging out over your face and pulled it away to grab your cheek as well and worship your face. “I love you, Y/n.” He said softly against your lips making your butterflies go crazy.

As soon as he let out those words you unintentionally remembered your mom’s words making you feel a tigh nod in your chest. You didn’t want to believe her, you knew that Bucky loved you and wanted you by his side, but the thought of him not being around you and being with someone else was going around your mind. So, with the lowest tone possible, you closed your eyes as soon as you touched your forehead with his. “Don’t ever leave me, Bucky.”

Hearing those words, he left a kiss on the side of your lips and whispered softly: “Never, doll.” Making you melt under his voice, once again.

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Good little girl

*gif is not mine*

Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 4.9k

Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!

You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.

“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.

“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”

“Mom!” you gasped.

Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.

You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.

“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.

While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.

He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.

“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”

“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.

“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.

You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.

Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.

“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”

You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”

She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”

“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.

He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.

But you wondered... did he love you?

The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.

But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.

While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.

But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.

“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”

“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.

“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”

“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”

You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.

***

You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.

“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.

“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”

He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”

“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”

“You know I would,” he smiled.

You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.

He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.

“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.

He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.

You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.

But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.

“What is it, honey?” he asked.

“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.

“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.

“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.

And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.

“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”

“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.

“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”

“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.”

***

“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.

You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.

But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...

So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.

“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.

You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.

The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.

“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.

“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”

“Hmm....”

You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.

You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.

Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?

Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?

“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re always working.” You complained.

“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”

“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”

“And why is that?”

You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.

“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.

“Um... I must’ve forgot.”

So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.

“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”

***

You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.

You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.

He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.

“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.

He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.

He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.

“Very well,” he nodded.

With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.

You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.

You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.

His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.

“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.

Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.

***

“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.

“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.

You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.

You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?

“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

***

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.

This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...

A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.

Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?

“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”

He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.

He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.

Until he saw... that.

He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.

“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”

“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”

Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.

He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.

“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.

He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.

He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.

“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” he scoffed.

You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.

“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.

His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”

“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”

You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”

“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”

“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”

“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”

“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.

He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.

He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.

“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”

Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.

“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.

“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.

“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.

With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...

You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.

“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.

You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.

“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.

You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.

“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.

“No!” you whined.

“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”

“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”

“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.

“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.

You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.

Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.

“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.

He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”

You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.

Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.

You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.

He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.

You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”

“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.

“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.

Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”

“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.

You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.

“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.

“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”

“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”

***

Three days later

“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.

He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.

You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.

You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.

“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.

He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.

“I’ll be all alone then.”

“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.

“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.

“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”

“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

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[s-brant]

Angels Roll Their Eyes (2/2)

(gif: @toesure) (PART ONE)

Summary: Hurricane Agatha approaches Kildare Island during the aftermath of the eventful Fourth of July party. JJ and Y/N are determined to continue avoiding each other after what happened at the party, but John B has other plans for them.

Warnings: Smut, strong language, angst, implied physical abuse, depictions of anxiety/panic attacks, and sickeningly sweet fluff.

Word Count: 24k

A/N: Here we goooo! To celebrate the trailer dropping today, here’s part two to Devils Roll The Dice. If you haven’t read the first part, I suggest you read it and come back so this makes sense. This one has all the drama and spice, so buckle up! Thank you for the love and support on the first part. Let me know if you enjoyed this and have fun, cause I had a blast writing it.

Hurricane Agatha.

It was the first thing she heard about as soon as she woke up yesterday to the sound of her phone blaring with an obnoxious tone that reminds her of waking up too early in the morning for work or school.

Her sleepy eyes couldn't make out who was calling, so she pressed the button to answer and lifted the phone to hear her mom's voice squawking through the speaker at her about the hurricane projected to hit the island in the middle of the night tonight.

The problem is, her parents are out of town this week, leaving her all alone to prep the house and endure the storm alone. And for someone who flinches whenever she thinks she hears the sound of thunder in the sky, that is the worst it can get.

It's a fear her friends are conscious of. One time when they were out on the HMS Pogue, a quick summer storm started to drift overhead and it took all of her self control to not fall into a blind panic when thunder began to rumble above. John B was already steering them back in the direction of the Chateau but she knew it would do nothing to calm her nerves until she was back inside of the house.

The anxiety was starting to become too overwhelming when JJ sat down beside her and threw his arm over her shoulder. It was their first month of knowing one another, so the casual friendly gesture made her jump at first and turn her head to look at him, but he acted like everything was normal.

The next person to notice was John B. With JJ currently out of commission, the only person she thought to call to help her prep the house for the incoming storm was him. Since they never got hurricanes up where she used to live her whole life, she needed someone who's been through a couple to help her while her parents weren't home.

That's how she ended up here. Sweating bullets in the front yard of her house as she unloads the contents of the van with John B was not how she envisioned her Saturday night to go, but she's glad she has someone who's willing to help.

In the past five months of being with the Pogues, she's learned that it's lovely to have friends. She never used to have any before she moved, so in situations like this or when she got so drunk at the party, she never would've had anyone to be there for her. It's quiet moments of kindness and companionship like this that make her realize how much better life has been on the other side of uprooting everything to move here—self-inflicted boy drama and all.

The sandbag on her shoulder sends a growing ache through her back muscles with every step she takes to follow him up the length of unpaved dirt path up to her front door. As usual, he makes it look way easier than it is, and it almost makes her want to laugh at how different they are.

Most of her new friends are effortless, naturally picking up anything they decide to try at while she is inept by comparison. It's part of what attracted her to JJ in the first place. He may have his insecurities the same way every other individual does, but in her eyes, he has nothing to be insecure of. Even when he wipes out on a wave and appears out of the water with sand clumped in his salt-kissed strands of blonde hair, he manages to make it look cool.

"What are you smiling about?"

John B's laughter makes her look up from where she concentrated on the dirt path to see him looking back at her. He stands at the entrance to her house with the rest of the sandbags they carried up placed meticulously in front of the door to prevent water from entering the house. They did the same thing with the back door an hour ago.

Is she smiling? She hadn't even realized her expression changed from one of exhaustion and fear at the dark clouds closing in above to a grin, so her face instantly drops in guilt. After running out on JJ for the second time two days ago to go to work, any mention of him from their friends has left her drowning in shame.

She can't recall the bulk of her memories from the night of the Fourth of July party, but she fills in the gaps between those flashes of memory with what their friends told her about it.

Thanks to her overindulgence, there are holes poked in the fabric of her memory.

It jumps from her last fully sober moment of seeing JJ across the room with the kook girl to dancing clumsily with Kie to the floral scent of her makeup wipes that she can't attach a specific visual image to.

Then, she can remember waking up with a start in the middle of the night to throw up in a pot beside the bed while he held back her hair. Before John B explained it, she was quite confused after waking up about how she somehow got from being jealous over JJ flirting with another girl to waking up in the same bed as him.

She grunts as she plops the last sandbag down into place and decides to take a seat on the steps leading up to the door.

"It wasn't anything special," Y/N says and watches him come down to sit next to her, "I was just thinking about taking something so I can pass out and avoid having a panic attack over this stupid storm."

Unlike JJ, she isn't that skilled of a liar. It's obvious to anyone who knows her well when she does it based on the way her eye contact begins to drift away and her voice raises in pitch when she speaks. She's too honest with her friends to handle keeping secrets from them, which is why it's been so difficult for her with everything that has happened recently. Not only does she lie to the Pogues, she also avoids them by association in the process of trying to avoid JJ.

Regardless of how obvious her bluffing is, John B doesn't call her out on it. Instead, he focuses on a different part of what she said.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone? I know your parents are out of town till next week..." he trails off into concerned silence.

The tip of her sneaker hangs off of the edge of the bottom step and absentmindedly digs a line into the dirt as she takes in his question.

Being alone when she's prone to panicking is a recipe for disaster. Anxiety and loneliness have a relationship similar to that of a weapon and ammunition. It takes very little for her to fall down the rabbit hole of obsessive thinking and break down into a hyperventilating, fearful mess, especially when no one else is there to tug her out of those dark thoughts.

Most of the time, the people who help her with that are her parents. If they're home during one of these episodes, she'll come stumbling downstairs to them from her room for help, and they'll do everything they can to bring her down from hysterics. Her friends, on the other hand, have yet to witness her have one of those moments.

"Having people with me helps, you know? But it is what it is, I'll just try to cope the best I can and hope for the best."

He nods, and though he's a portrait of understanding, she wonders if he finds it as juvenile and stupid as she does.

Logically, she knows that this anxiety is something many people experience. She understands that it's something that is mostly out of her control but can't help but tear herself apart over it.

She thinks to herself, What kind of weirdo can't sit inside during a thunderstorm or hurricane without losing their shit? Why am I not the one in control of my own mind when this happens?

Do her friends think similar things? Do they think it's as pathetic as she does, or is she just paranoid that they pick her flaws apart as much as she does? And, of course, she wonders what JJ would think if he saw her panic like that. He may have seen her start to become anxious on the HMS Pogue, but he hasn't seen her panic panic before, not in the way that her parents have, and she wonders if he'd think less of her for it.

Right when she's about to change the topic and steer him away from a chance to think of how ridiculous she's being about the approaching hurricane, he says something that makes her look back over at him.

"Then come spend the night at the Chateau. I can distract you. We can play board games and shit."

"Really?" she asks.

The idea of anyone wanting to waste an entire night playing board games and possibly signing themselves up for having to talk her down from a panic attack makes her heart melt.

"Yeah, why not? You need a friend tonight. You know any of us would do anything for you. You're like my little sister, dude, we'd all probably hack off a limb if we thought it'd help you. Especially JJ."

John B's last second name-drop is designed specifically for where he wants this conversation to go. Underneath the need to get his friends back to normal, he does feel a little guilty for having to do this. She thinks he's only offering to let her stay with him to help her—and he is, even if there weren't a rift between her and JJ, he'd still offer—but he has a different reason.

"Right," she says softly. "Speaking of which...is he gonna be there tonight?"

With how often he escapes his house to spend a night or two in temporary safety at the Chateau, it's not an unfounded assumption. He and John B spend more time together than any of them because of this, and when she goes over to hang out, she knows that he and JJ often come as a package deal.

He tries to play it cool and not give up anything that could make her suspicious of him, looking off at the van parked in the driveway as he takes a second to collect his thoughts. It's never easy for him to deceive people he cares about, even if it's for their own good. It wasn't easy when he invited JJ to spend the night a few hours ago with the knowledge that he'd soon invite Y/N too either, but he managed.

As always, Pope is the brains behind this operation. He was the one to suggest inviting them both over to wait out Agatha together when the three of them put their heads together to come up with a solution to their oblivious friends' drama. After JJ stormed out of the house the morning after the party, they knew they had to do something about it. This was what it came to.

"Nah. I offered but he said he's staying at home until this whole thing blows over."

He isn't sure why she buys into it.

She knows JJ well enough to know that he would literally rather eat glass than be trapped in a confined space with his dad for an entire day. Perhaps it's only because it's what she wants to believe. She wants to believe that she won't have to see him again tonight after everything that happened. How can she handle having to tell him why got so drunk that night and made an ass of herself? She can't bear to tell him all of that unnecessary drama started because she was jealous.

What right does she have to feel that way? He isn't hers. They aren't together, and she thinks it's quite obvious that he doesn't want a relationship out of whatever it is they have together. It was one night. She has no right to be mad at him for flirting with other girls because of it.

"Then I'll definitely be taking you up on that offer. Thank you," she says.

The old wooden stairs make a squealing sound when she stands to make her way inside to gather her things for the night, but the feeling of a warm hand gripping her forearm stops her mid-step. Her eyes follow down the length of her arm back to where he sits, glancing at her with this knowing look in his eyes that makes her want to turn and hide.

"When are you gonna talk things out with him, Y/N?" he asks. "He misses you."

Since the party, no one has had the courage to burst her bubble of pretending not to care until now, but now that someone has, all of her bottled up emotions stir inside of her at a simple concept she hadn't considered yet.

JJ misses her.

For the first time since they began this stupid game of cat and mouse, she is confronted with how desperately she misses him back. So consumed with the task of concealing everything that happened and trying to avoid him, she hadn't acknowledged that all she ever really wants is to be with him lately.

She misses his jokes and the way he looks at her when she giggles at them. She misses his smile when they play fight on the HMS Pogue. She even misses when he dangles her over the edge of the boat as a means to end the wrestling match, making her squirm in his strong hold as he threatens to toss her overboard.

But what she misses most of all is how he never lets her fall in. It's something about the way he looks at her as he pulls her back onboard, how time itself seems to stop in the moment between when he's still holding her and when she feels her feet touch the deck again.

Then, they'll suddenly want nothing to do with each other for the next half hour.

JJ will make himself busy forgetting the way her hands felt holding onto his shoulders for dear life, burning the memory of her palm prints into his skin for the next few hours. And she'll try her hardest to forget that charming smile and the feeling of his arms around her. But it won't work, not really, and when they're both laying down to sleep at night, they'll have one thing keeping them awake.

She takes a second to internalize what he said and avoid exposing the effect it has on her to hear it before asking, "Did he tell you that?"

The sky overhead grows darker and darker by the second, but she has yet to notice it due to the topic of their conversation. With JJ involved, her attention shrinks to a tunnel leading only to him. There's no room for anything else but the audacious idea planted in the back of her mind that he might miss her as much as she misses him.

"No, he didn't," John B admits, and right when she's about to say more in response, he cuts her off, "but hear me out. I've known him since we were kids, so I can tell when things aren't right with him, and ever since your relationship with him got complicated, I picked up on some weird vibes."

Y/N doesn't give anything away with how she reacts. He can't tell if she's about to bolt like JJ did or stay to talk and open up to him. All she does is cross her arms over her chest and lean back against the railing.

"Weird in what way?"

"Weird in a way that makes me think you two have to talk it out before you ruin your friendship. I've never seen him act this way over a girl."

That doesn't surprise her. He has a reputation for chasing after any girl available to him, something the Pogues have gently teased him about, and it factors into why she doesn't want to have this dreaded conversation with him. She doesn't want to sit there and listen to him tell her that she was just another one of those girls to him.

Going for broke and being honest about what he thinks of their situation is a better strategy for trying to get her to talk to JJ than the other way around. John B can look back on what happened the morning after the party and see where they went wrong in their approach of trying to get him to talk, but she's less unpredictable and turbulent than he is. The fact that she's hearing him out is enough proof of their differences.

She sighs.

"I know we need to talk sooner or later, but it's hard, you know? I'm so embarrassed of how everything went down at the party, even though I was too fucked up to remember most of it, and I just—" There's a brief second that lapses between when she stops and when she starts again where he can almost see her working through it in her head. "I don't wanna get hurt."

John B's face falls at the mention of the party and her feelings surrounding it.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed of. You drank too much but who cares? The only person who should be embarrassed about that night is the guy that tried to take advantage of you."

That part is the most fuzzy in her mind.

She can remember what led up to it and the moment she saw JJ pull him away from her, but she can't remember anything about the interaction itself. It wasn't as if he did anything to her—not yet—but the thought of it alone makes her skin crawl because she's seen that before. She's been the JJ in that situation, pulling a wasted Touron away from someone who thought nobody would be looking out for other people at the party, and she knows how quickly those situations can escalate past "harmless" flirting.

The sound of JJ shouting at Tyler echoes in her mind as she reaches for any remaining memories left from the party. He said it right after he punched him, when he was starting to rush forward to follow him onto the ground and pin him there.

"If I see you near my girl again, you're fucking dead! You got that?"

She doesn't remember realizing that he called her that at the moment. She was confused and upset and all she wanted to do was stop him from getting himself in trouble, so she pulled him away from hitting Tyler again without realizing what he said. And even now, she tries to avoid acknowledging it. She reasons with herself, telling herself that he was pissed off and didn't mean it, because if he did, why hasn't he told her how he feels yet?

Y/N looks up and sees how dark the converging clouds have gotten in the time since they began working on prepping the house for the hurricane, so her next words are shakier than usual.

"I guess you're right." She pushes off of her spot against the railing. "But can we not talk about JJ tonight? I kind of wanna hang out and forget about the rest of the stuff I've got going on right now."

This makes him feel a pang of guilt inside of him for the ulterior motive he's kept hidden from her for the duration of the conversation, but he knows it's for the best. Even if her and JJ's inevitable conversation goes in the wrong direction and they don't end up mending fences, it's better that they let it out sooner than later. If they wait any longer, it'll make it worse, and he knows that they're stubborn enough to keep this childish game going for another week or so.

So, he keeps her in the dark for now and offers a kind, "Sure, that's cool with me," despite knowing how messy the night will soon become.

A smile pokes at the edges of her mouth, making the sides of her eyes crinkle, and she extends a hand to help him up from where he sits.

"Now," she says as they make their way inside the house for her to pack a bag, "are you ready to get absolutely crushed in Monopoly?"

It started to rain before they left her house, and by the time they pull into the driveway of the Chateau, it's pouring down on them with violent winds whipping droplets at their faces hard enough to hurt.

The rapid pace of her pulse beats with such an intensity, she can feel it in her head. They shouldn't have taken so much time at her place before heading over here. While she was packing, they talked and dilly-dallied the whole time, and now they pay the price for it.

If she knew that it would start this soon into the night, she probably would've hurried things along sooner, but it's too late. She's already starting to feel that tightness in her chest and each breath of air feels less satisfying with every inhale. It's not so bad that she loses complete control of herself, but it's getting there, and she can't express how badly she doesn't want to lose her shit in front of John B.

The passenger side door is slammed shut by the force of the wind behind her, the noise becoming swallowed up in the rest of the budding storm, and she stifles a sound of surprise that escapes her in reaction to it. They're lucky they made it here in the first place. Any later in the night and they probably would've had to take refuge at her place until it blew over.

She decides to focus on how the edges of her white sneakers are swallowed up by the muddy earth on her way through the front yard to distract herself. It stains them a deep brown color and simultaneously washes them clean from the rain coming down from above, which she'd probably be annoyed about if she weren't such a nervous wreck. But, because she's too busy keeping her backpack raised over her head to shield herself from the rain on her way up to the front door, it's not high up on her list of priorities.

Since both the screen door and the door behind it are unlocked, she doesn't hesitate to come bursting into the house as she usually does.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, feeling that telltale tension in her chest and shoulders, and laughs at the sight of John B running in as she kicks off her shoes. His t-shirt is speckled with rainwater, and his hair is saturated enough with it to stick to the sides of his face after he crosses the threshold into the Chateau.

The sound of her laughter makes JJ's heart stop from where he stands in the kitchen.

"There was an umbrella right on the dashboard, why didn't you take—"

Her heart might as well have stopped just as abruptly as the sentence she was in the middle of saying when she turned and saw him standing there.

Maybe they're both a tad too dramatic, but it takes a full few seconds for them to stop staring at each other in surprise. He looks like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide with surprise like he was caught doing something he shouldn't even though all he was doing was grabbing a beer from the fridge.

It's been two days since they last saw each other. For him, the last glimpse he got of her was when he peeked through the blinds to see her pedaling away on her bike to go to work, but hers was somewhat different.

The last time she saw him, he was asleep. Their legs were tangled together underneath the sheets and his face was smushed against her chest, allowing her to feel the soft puffs of his exhales on her skin every few seconds. It's a wonder that she managed to slip away unnoticed once she remembered she had work that morning. He was holding her closely, so closely that she found it hard to discern where she ended and he began in the dazed, hungover headspace she woke up in.

It's when the conversation she had with John B on the front steps of her house comes back to the forefront of her mind that she puts together what's happening right now. Now that they're here, it's far too late to leave. With how aggressively the wind and rain batter the area surrounding the house, it's obvious that they're not going anywhere.

It seems to click with them at the same time, because JJ turns to look at him only a half second after she does.

Y/N says, completely serious, "If you did what I think you did, I'm gonna kill you."

Before either of them can think of doing anything, John B shoots out from the doorway and runs past her in the direction of the hallway where his bedroom is.

"Gotta catch me first!"

They both chase him, JJ hopping over the back of the couch to run after him, but they end up coming to a screeching halt at the shut door right when they hear the lock turn and click.

Neither of them knows what they were planning to do when they caught him, cause it isn't like they'd hurt him, but they bang on the door nonetheless. The sound is drowned out by the sound of the wind and rain pounding the outside walls of the house, picking up speed, and for a second she wants to kick the door open.

She shouts, "John B! Open this door!"

The last thing she wanted tonight was to be trapped in a house with the one person she didn't want to see. Doesn't John B realize how embarrassing it is for her to be around him when she knows that he's gonna reject her? He may have said something about JJ never acting so weird over a girl before, but he's wrong. There's no way JJ actually wants her...right?

"I can't hear you, this storm's kinda loud!" he yells back at them through the locked door. "Maybe try again later!"

Neither of them wants to acknowledge the other. In fact, they don't even want to look at each other right now, so all they can do to stop themselves from acknowledging the elephant in the room is continue trying to get answers out of John B. What does he think that locking them together in the Chateau for the night will accomplish other than make them ignore their own drama and team up to plot their revenge on him?

Though he's significantly less angry than she is, JJ pulls the doorknob enough to make the door whine on its hinges and pleads with their friend, "This isn't funny, John B. Open the door."

"Not until you guys stop being immature and talk to each other."

She furrows her brows at him even though he can't see her, saying, "It's none of your business. You can't just trap us here cause you think you know what's best for us."

The sound of thunder rumbling above the house makes her flinch, hand shooting out to latch onto JJ's arm on an instinct she couldn't consciously resist. Feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her palm and the fingers clutched around his wrist sends shocks of familiar electricity up her body. Touching him always makes her feel hyperaware of herself, leaving her to wonder if he can sense her pulse picking up or notice how her breathing pattern turns uneven.

With that being said, it's safe to say that the night they spent together took that sensation of electricity and hyperawareness to a height it hadn't reached before.

That time, it wasn't a brush of their hands or an arm over her shoulder, it was the epitome of physical closeness. She couldn't handle it. He was so sickeningly sweet with her, yet, at the same time, he knew all of the right times to be commanding and in control too. There were awkward moments at first, sure, but once they became comfortable with each other, it was game over.

And whenever they've touched since, she hasn't been able to get those memories off of her mind. It's less prevalent now, since she's only holding onto him out of fear, but it's still there underneath it all—the unfiltered desperation of the lust in his eyes, the low noises that escaped his parted lips, and the strong pair of hands that pinned her hips down on the mattress to give him the leverage to really give it to her at the intensity she begged for.

It's pathetically easy for her to be sucked right back into the vortex of emotions, memories, and fears that haunt her whenever they touch, but he brings her back out of it just as easily when he speaks.

"You okay?"

John B was as good as forgotten by him as soon as he felt her jolt next to him and grab onto his wrist like she was hanging from a ravine and he was the only thing preventing her from falling. It makes him feel like a fool, but even when they're ignoring each other, the urge to comfort and protect her from anything that displeases her never disappears. He'd literally fistfight Zeus if it meant there'd be less thunder to scare her.

If he weren't hiding behind a locked door to avoid their wrath, JB would probably be calling him a simp right about now.

The concern on his face is so pure and unaffected by any of the chaos that surrounds them, both physical and emotional, that it makes her stomach turn with a sick feeling. God, he really does care about her. Why does that scare her? Why doesn't she want to believe that he cares? Why is she so set on believing that he wanted nothing more than a quick fuck from her?

Her eyes turn down to see their connected hands, realizing all in one moment what she did and pulling her hand away as if she were burned.

"I—Yeah," she stops, looking up at him, then back to the closed bedroom door, "I'm fine. You know how it is, it's just the storm."

They're both left with no choice but to face the music after days of avoidance that had no good reason behind it other than the respective doubts and fears they have. Yet even now that they're standing here, unsure of what comes next, they're hesitant to say or do anything that might disrupt the illusion they've created in the week and a half since they first ruined their friendship for good.

It feels as though the tension that has been boiling between them is coming close to turning explosive and all it will take is one tremor of their self-control for it to spill over.

Every feeling they have feels so contradictory. They want to but they also don't. They almost do it, then hesitate and decide to ignore each other for days. At the party, this tug of war game was at its peak for JJ when she was telling him about her jealousy and cuddling up to him, but he couldn't do it then, not when she was drunk. And by the time he had a whole night to think it over and see her biking away, he didn't want to risk it.

She looks away from him, hoping that "out of sight, out of mind" may ring true for once, and says to John B through the door, "Whatever, have fun. I won't hold JJ back when you finally come out of there though."

He won't actually do anything to him, maybe just a non-serious fight that'll end with her walking in on them rolling around on the floor trying to wrestle each other, but she likes to fuck with him anyway. For the dick move he just pulled, she thinks he can withstand a little teasing.

Without anything else to say, Y/N turns and walks off to make herself useful elsewhere—anything to distract from the buzzing, anxious energy that surrounds her from both the hurricane and being forced to confront JJ. She tries to play it cool though she is anything but at the moment, allowing herself to grimace once her back is turned to the blonde boy still standing against the wall in the hallway.

Maybe if she keeps pushing this false sense of normalcy, it'll work. It worked when they both started pretending things never happened between them initially after they had sex, so who's to say it can't work now?

All they have to do is get through the next 12-24 hours without talking and all will be well. Right?

They tried.

They truly tried to get through the night without inciting chaos within the Chateau, but, for these two idiots, not inciting chaos is a task easier said than done. Not only was John B much more stubborn with staying in his room than either of them bargained for, he didn't even attempt to speak to them for the first five hours and they were left with nothing to do but find new ways to avoid talking to each other.

It was simple in the beginning.

She went off on her own and sat with her headphones in to drown out the sounds of the storm.

With her eyes fluttered shut to block out anything but the sound of The Cure blasting into her ears, there was no reason for her to have to worry about anything once her nerves began to settle. Since the songs drowned out any sound and all she could see was darkness behind her closed eyelids, she was able to drift away with the distraction of the music.

The thing is, after a while, she started to see pieces of him in every song she skipped to. She made it a full minute into Just Like Heaven before a supercut of her most treasured memories of him began appearing in her head. Fade Into You? Skipped as soon as the first dreamy lyric flooded in through the tangled cords of the headphones. Cloud 9? Forty seconds in. By the time Dirty Little Secret came on, she decided that her playlist was mocking her.

The headphones were out of her ears, hastily wrapped up, and stowed away in the small pocket of her overnight bag before the chorus of the song could hit. Thankfully for her, JJ wasn't looking when she ripped the headphones out and put them away in a huff, so by the time he turned to see her again, she was laying down on the couch to "nap"—meaning she laid awake for another hour and cursed John B for making her endure this.

While she was daydreaming of a John B voodoo doll, JJ was worried about her.

Yes, the topic of their relationship/friendship/situationship/whatever-the-fuck-it-is was bombarding him against his will every five seconds, but not without him coming back to his concern for her. A small sound of thunder on an otherwise perfect day was enough to make her zone out and start getting antsy that day on the boat, so he didn't want to know how bad it could get during a time like this.

He tried to play it cool, and, in all honesty, his remaining scraps of sanity lasted a lot longer than hers. Four and a half hours passed, then, as the storm began to do its worst on their town, the power flickered out and left them in complete darkness. At that point, John B was passed out in his bedroom, so he didn't care nor notice when they had to find a few candles and stumble through the dark.

Somewhere along the way, having to search through the dark house for candles to light and place around the living room led them here...he isn't quite sure how.

JJ can hardly open his eyes enough to see through the rain that pounds against him the second he runs after her through the back door. The wind is so aggressive and unrelenting, it almost sends him stumbling a few steps when he follows her blurry figure a few paces behind where she tries to flee the house in a panic.

"Get back inside!" he shouts as he picks up his speed to catch up, "Y/N!"

The part of him that isn't focused on the pure physicality of trying to see and move through the stormy weather is utterly overwhelmed with fear. Not for himself but for her. She's deathly afraid of mild storms, let alone hurricanes, and yet she ran through the back door when he tried comforting her through an anxiety attack. One would think that she wouldn't want to go directly into the thing she fears the most, but what sent her running for the hills wasn't the panic itself, it was him.

It's hard for her to think rationally in this state, but all she knows is that he was there, he was saying all the right things and holding her, and she couldn't do it. The fear began to blend to one centered around both him and the storm. The hours of useless distractions and ruminating in her thoughts built up to this point of contention, then it snapped.

Between the thunder, his voice, and the voice in the back of her head that was urging her to confess her feelings and do as John B advised them to, it became too much. Maybe it was the most idiotic split-second decision she made without any regard for logic or reason or her safety, but she bailed. For the third time, she couldn't handle the pressure and ran from him.

The only difference is that he couldn't let her leave this time.

He gasps for air against the streams of water flowing down his face, soaking his hair and making it hang in his eyes to obstruct his view more than the weather already has. It happened so fast, neither of them are wearing shoes. His feet sink into the muddy yard with every stride he takes in his frantic pursuit of her and it frustrates him no end because of how it slows him down.

There's endless dangerous possibilities with her being out here. She could be knocked over into the marsh by the wind, or stuck and hurt by a piece of debris—merely thinking about it makes him call out her name louder in the hopes that it'll wake her from her panicked trance.

After trudging through the mud all the way to the edge of the yard, he finally manages to get to her.

"What are you doing?" JJ shouts, turning her around and grabbing onto both of her arms as if one gust of wind would sweep her away if he didn't, "You're gonna get hurt!"

Stumbling backwards in the direction of the screened-in porch that surrounds the back door, he uses their difference in strength to tug her away in the direction she came out in. The rain makes it difficult to keep a firm grasp on her, and she almost slips away a couple of times when the wind picks up enough to make him too unsteady to hold on.

His arms slip around her waist for a better grasp on her the closer they come to reaching the house. The last thing he wants is to almost get her back inside and lose her at the last second. She isn't thinking rationally right now with the panic she feels taking full control of her responses. He knows firsthand how it feels to be thrown headfirst into a panic attack, he's been in her shoes before and knows better than anyone the lengths your irrational mind will go to if it means survival. And for whatever reason, her response is flight, not fight.

The door to the screen porch takes all of his effort to open against the power of the wind blowing it back against the house.

He grits his teeth as he forces it open, one arm secured around her midsection, and helps her in before he slips inside too. The second he lets go of the door, it's sent slamming back into place and rattling in the frame behind them, but he doesn't spend anymore time on it other than the few seconds it takes to lock it. As soon as it clicks with him that they're safe—most importantly, that she's safe—he whips around to face her with a cold rage flowing through his veins.

"What the fuck?"

She stands in front of him with water pouring off of her in rapid drops onto the rug, and there are no thoughts in her head outside of the ones telling her to leave. Her tears blend in with the droplets of rain so seamlessly that he wouldn't know she's crying if not for the sound of it.

In between her rapid breaths and sobs, she yells back at him, "I was scared, okay?"

"Why'd you run out into the storm if you—"

"I wasn't afraid of the storm, I was afraid of you!"

The silence that follows is louder than anything they've experienced. Nothing can rival it, not the thunder, the rain, or anything can drown it out while he stares at her in shock. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he reaches for something, anything, he can say in response to that, but there's nothing. For once, he is absolutely speechless.

Things got awkward between them in the initial aftermath of last week, but not like this. There was never an instance where he felt like there was nothing left for him to say to her to fill the uncomfortable silence that always brought forth memories of them together until now. Until she said the last thing he wanted or expected to hear.

His anger subsides as he picks over what he did in his head for anything that could've made her feel unsafe.

Before it evolved into him chasing after her through the hurricane, he noticed how terrible it had gotten for her when he lit the first candle. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her chest began to rise and fall faster with each second that passed. He could see it on her face that things were getting worse, but, now that he thinks of it, it got worse once he reached out to put his hand on her shoulder.

It felt like a dream sequence in his head, so hazy and faraway now that it's over, and he was so stunned by what she was doing, he didn't run after her until a few seconds later. There was a delay in which he stood there in surprise and tried to process what the hell just happened to no avail. Though it wasn't very long, he remembers it feeling like eternity tucked into the cramped space of four seconds.

JJ's voice is softer than she's ever heard it, asking into the void of the near-darkness that encloses them, "What'd I do?" And it breaks her heart in half to hear him sound so concerned, so terrified of the idea that he did something to hurt her when all he did was try to help. "I never meant to scare you, I swear. I know how bad it can get sometimes, and I know we haven't been talking but I'd never try to hurt you if that's what you thought..."

His thoughts run rampant with the possibilities of what she was thinking at the time, and he realizes that he can't stand the idea of her thinking anything badly of him. He never cares about what people think, but, fuck, he loathes the idea of her having any ill feelings toward him.

Y/N immediately starts shaking her head, her face scrunching with the emotion and incessant tears.

"I know you'd never hurt me. I was scared because..." she stops herself mid sentence, catching it right when she was about to admit the one thing she promised herself she wouldn't.

But the need to say it doesn't go away this time. Usually, once she catches herself she comes to her senses and realizes how foolish it would've been to confess, but this time is different. This time, the urge to speak her mind and tell him everything sticks around. The words left unsaid creep up her throat, thrashing and begging to let out after months of being pushed aside.

The look in her eyes is strangely reminiscent of the way she looked at him the night they hooked up, almost yearning in its nature, and he couldn't be more confused. She's scared of him, but she's looking at him like she did when she was two seconds away from jumping his bones. And if he didn't do anything wrong, why was she afraid enough to face her worst fear in order to avoid him?

"Because what?" he asks.

That frustration from when they first stepped into the porch hasn't vanished, it only took a backseat once she said she was afraid of him, not the storm, and he can feel it stirring up again. He's tired of not having answers. He's tired of mixed signals and loneliness and unrequited love. Most of all, he's tired of her running away all the time. At this point, he questions whether or not it's worth it to expose his feelings to her and suffer the consequences.

John B was right. This isn't healthy for them, nor is it healthy for them to put their friends through this along with them, and it might be better to not be friends than to stay this way forever. At least that way they wouldn't be wishing for answers that would never come for the rest of their time together.

She decides at this moment that this has to be said before it gets worse, before she runs away again like a scared, immature child and ruins everything.

"Because," she has to shout over the lightning that cracks down on the earth down the street, something she would be trembling in fear over if she weren't so focused on him, "I've been in love with you for a couple months and it scares me more than anything, even this stupid fucking storm! And I've tried so hard to ignore it because I know you don't feel the same way, but you touched me and I just"—a soft cry escapes her—"I couldn't do it anymore."

There it is.

After months of ruminating over it and hiding everything, he knows, and her immediate feeling after she says it isn't what she thought it would be. She expected trepidation and regret, but what she finds on the other side isn't either of those, it's relief. Her dad often tells her when she's nervous about something that the anticipation is worse than the thing itself, and that has never been as true her as it is now.

However, some of the nerves return with the time that passes after she spoke in complete silence. Much like the delayed reaction he had to her running out of the house, it isn't as long as it feels to her. It's a short span of time that it takes for her words to process with him, but it feels like an eternity that he stands there with his head facing the floor in quiet contemplation.

Her heart sinks.

This means he doesn't feel the same way, doesn't it? If he were the one telling her he loved her, she likely would've leaped into his arms and said it back, but he stays where he is.

Then, after what feels like forever, she thinks she sees him start to smile and feels like she's losing her mind. It's quite dark out here, so there's only a limited amount of light to allow her to see his features, but there's no doubting it when a flash of lightning floods the porch with a split-second of harsh light.

Oh God, why is he smiling? What does it mean?

Much to her frustration, the first thing he says after her confession isn't much help in making her understand his feelings either.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?"

Why? The voice in the back of her mind asks incredulously. Is he seriously asking why? He ignored me too. He didn't want to talk about it either, so what else was I supposed to do?

Maybe she was undeniably worse when it came to the avoidance and lack of communication, but he could've reached out to her too. They both could've. Instead, they spent day after day waiting for the other to make the move and pushed the tension further and further until it finally broke. Now she's waiting for him to hurry up and reject her so she can move on with her life.

She shivers from the wind blowing at her wet skin through the screens separating them from the outside world, crossing her arms over her body to hug herself. His eyes follow her movements down to the breaths that are slowly evening out without her realizing it. It turns out that confessing your love for the guy you've been crushing on since the day you met him is a hell of a distraction.

"I thought you wouldn't wanna hear me being all emotional and shit over a one time thing. You've literally never had an actual relationship before. And that's fine," she rambles, "I'll be okay eventually, but that's not who you are and there isn't a problem with that. I just caught feelings when I shouldn't have."

In her defense, she isn't making baseless assumptions about him, he hasn't had a relationship before. His love life hasn't ever really revolved around love itself, it was mostly comprised of random chicks he'd meet at parties or at the beach during the summertime when tourists come to visit the island. Out of all of them, he's the last one the Pogues would expect to fall in love with someone and commit to a relationship, but then...

He looks over at her with a swell of emotion within him that he's never felt before. It wasn't like he hadn't known before now. He did. He even said it out loud to himself that morning after the party, but this is when it feels the most real. Now that she's said it to him, he doesn't feel so stupid for toying with the four letter word in the back of his mind for the entirety of the past week.

In all honesty, he was the last person he would've expected to fall in love with someone this quickly too. He thought he knew himself better than this. He thought he could keep himself hidden away and not let anyone close enough to see him—the real him, faults and feelings and vulnerability included—but she proved him wrong. In walked Y/N with her pretty smile, teeny bikini bottoms, and oddly strong opinions on Ratatouille, and he stood no chance.

This sudden crescendo of emotion only continues to grow when he watches her shiver, soaked to the skin, across from him and decides that he never wants to deny himself of her again. Those feelings of inadequacy that forced him to question his relationship with her may not have gone away, not by a long shot, but they can't stop him anymore. Nothing can.

Like a light flickering to life in this swirling, stormy darkness, she hears JJ's voice asking her, "What if it is who I am?"

It was said so softly, she nearly lost it beneath the rain and wind. But it was not said with a lack of certainty, which is why she questions if she heard him correctly. He sounded so sure of himself that it feels too good to be true. After his reaction, or lack thereof, to her telling him she loved him, she accepted what was coming and this was not it.

"What?"

He doesn't miss a beat.

"You heard me." There's a pause. "Maybe I needed to meet the right girl."

There is no way he's saying what she thinks he's saying because if he is...if he is then that means the tears and frustration have all been for nothing because he loves her back. But if he loves her, then what was with the kook girl? Was it to make her jealous, or is she misinterpreting him right now and he was flirting with that girl because he doesn't have real feelings for her?

"JJ..." she trails off, looking down and thinking to herself how thankful she is that it's too dark for him to fully see how nervous he made her, "don't do that."

Partly, he should feel offended that she'd think he'd toy with her feelings like that, but he isn't. He's too busy wondering what on earth made this poor girl so insecure to think that someone has to be joking to confess their love to her. It makes him wonder if anyone wronged her before she moved here, and he feels that switch of impulsive anger inside of him flip at the thought.

But that anger has nowhere to go, so it shifts into something different—a need to spend every waking moment of the rest of their time together proving to her that she doesn't have to be so afraid. Does it make him a hypocrite? Probably. It wasn't too long ago that he was telling the Pogues how much he didn't deserve to be with her, but he doesn't see himself the same way he sees her. In his head, he has reasons to believe he doesn't deserve her love, but how could she ever think that herself?

He steps closer to her, the movement something so natural and unconscious to him that he doesn't recognize he does it until he hears her breath hitch in the back of her throat. They were already close enough to reach out and touch each other if they wanted to, yet now it's the kind of closeness that wipes the slate of her mind clean with nothing else but the thought of him there to stay.

He starts to say, "I'm not fucking with you, dude, I'm being serious—"

"Then prove it."

Oh.

The sound of his unfinished sentence lingers on the tip of his tongue as he blinks away his surprise at what she said, though it was less of a statement and more of a challenge. What the challenge is, he isn't too sure, but he thinks there could be a couple of meanings there.

The fire in her eyes when she looked up at him is one he recognizes very well, it stars in one too many of his daydreams that center around their secret night together. She rose to the occasion without fail and matched his chaos every time, and that steely-eyed stare is reminiscent of it.

Yet, the sexual undertone isn't the only part of it to be discovered. There's a clear meaning there for him to actually prove it, to put his money where his mouth is, grow a pair, and tell her how he feels with no room for confusion. No more miscommunication, running away, or insecurity getting between them, just a clear cut confession like hers.

His hand runs through his hair to sweep it out of his eyes and keep the wet strands from dripping down his face. It helps him see her a little better too, grounding him to the moment and calming him at the dimmed sight of her expectant, wide eyed gaze.

There were a million versions of this whenever he let himself imagine admitting it. He only let himself picture it on the worst days, days like the one two days ago when he went home to his dad, ending the night by cleaning his own cuts and inspecting his own bruises in his locked bedroom. He did it to distract himself from wanting to storm out of the room and finally kill the son of a bitch after years of suffering in silence.

JJ closed his eyes, shaking with anger, and dreamed of how he'd tell her. There were versions with long speeches that were far too sappy to exist outside of the realm of his imagination. There were versions with him burying the words between friendly jokes to play down the extent of his feelings too, but he thought it worked best in its simplest form.

So he puts it as simply as it gets, lips fighting a soft smile as he crosses the space between them and rushes in to kiss her. It's charged with an accumulation of the pent up love, anger, and sexual desire that has been repressed until now, resulting in something utterly explosive.

He stops for a second to whisper, "I love you too," into her parted lips, and she finally lets herself go at the sound of those words.

Forget that they've only known each other for five months, when you know you know. This is the real deal. This is the kind of feeling that possesses every accessible inch of her heart and she'd never be open enough to admit that to anyone but him at the moment, but neither of them minds that. It's such a new, rapidly developing feeling that they want to protect it and keep it close to them for the time being.

His arms twine around her waist, tugging her the last bit forward and leaving no space between their bodies this time. The sudden movement draws a sharp gasp from the back of her throat and sends her hands out to brace themselves on his shoulders. The sound of the gasp that disappears into their connected mouths only fuels him on more. It makes him more eager with how he touches her with his hands drifting down the plane of her back, one of which playfully slipping beneath the hem of her soaked shirt in a way that makes her smile into the kiss.

He knows exactly what he does to her. He can sense it in the small reactions that would often go overlooked if it were someone less familiar with her.

It's easy to tell by the way she completely surrenders herself to him, letting out these soft little noises she doesn't even realize she's making when he takes control of the interaction and kisses her like he's starved for it. In a way, he is starving for affection and attention from her. He never knew it was something he needed so badly until he got it, and now he never wants to go without having her again.

That's why it doesn't surprise him when she starts getting antsy after a moment or two, especially after keeping away from him for days.

Her hands run down the length of his chest over the soaked t-shirt, taking a quiet victory in how his stomach flinches inward in response to her exploring touch, and she could swear his next exhale trembles as she continues lower. Never once does she break the kiss, which, by the way, has gone past the point of being passionate and straight to downright needy, but her concentration does falter. The perfectly paced rhythm of her mouth moving with his is interrupted when she touches him over the fabric of his shorts.

Those plushy soft lips go on an exploration of their own too. Leaving him with the first opportunity to catch his breath in minutes, she dips her head beneath the sharp edge of jaw in pursuit of the sweet spot she remembers reducing him to a grabby, moaning mess the last time they did this. It doesn't take her long, not if the tightening of his arms around her and the satisfied hum of a moan she feels vibrate beneath her mouth has anything to say for it.

He loses himself in it for a second or two...okay, fine, maybe ten.

The separate sensations combined spark a flame inside of him that burns so hopelessly for whatever she'll give him. His mind sends him images of them together, both real memories from their first time together and imagined fantasies he only let himself visit in his dreams, and he realizes how thinly spread his self control has become lately.

First, it's the thought of her from last week, thoughts of her gasping, writhing, and begging beneath him that makes his cock throb under the teasing contact of her hand through his shorts. But then he's brought elsewhere. Then, though he hasn't thought of it since the day after the party, he thinks of the mix of jealousy and anger he felt when he saw Tyler with her.

He remembers being sane one moment and charging across the room like a madman the next. He remembers how it felt to watch another person's hands slip under her dress, how it felt to see someone else try to kiss her the way he had, and this raw wound of a memory is all it takes to spur him into action.

It happens so quickly, she doesn't even notice what's happening until he has her scooped up in his arms with her legs around his waist. She doesn't even have the chance to voice her surprise or crack a joke at the expense of his neediness before he reconnects their paused kiss with enough force to make her teeth ache in the collision.

JJ's rings are colder than ice, digging into the flesh of her thighs as he holds them with a tight grip and blindly takes the few steps necessary to reach the back entrance of the house. His wet handprint smudges on one of the cracked-open glass doors and sends droplets of water dribbling down the surface. The teardrop of rain zig-zags at the swinging motion of the door on their way in, only changing course again when he nudges it shut behind him a little too loudly.

"Wh"—her question is cut off by him laying her down on the rug-covered floor in between the couch and coffee table—"What if John B wakes up?"

His first thought was to bring her into the spare bedroom, but then he realized that it shares a wall with John B. Then, he considered the pull out couch but realized that would be louder than the room adjacent to their friend's. His only conclusion was this.

It isn't nearly as romantic as either of them would've pictured, but they're not exactly picky either. They're so desperate for it, they'd likely do it on the porch in the middle of a hurricane if there weren't another option. And in their own weird way, they make it romantic.

There's no one else she'd rather risk rug burn for, and that is the peak of romance.

"John B sleeps like a fuckin' rock," JJ says, "and it's own his fault for trapping us here anyway."

He follows her down onto the floor without a second thought, not even looking up to see if they woke their friend with the sound of the door shutting behind them.

Hovered above her, he looks particularly captivating in the flickering candlelight. The fire burning in one of the three-wick candles they scoured the bathroom cabinets for brings out the warm hues in his blonde hair and highlights every edge of the angular face that looks down at her. The porch was far too dark for her to see him in all of his near-perfection, but this is enough for her to notice a multitude of things.

His slicked back, wet hair allows her to see his features better and the way he looks at her...it's enough to make anyone feel red in the face. How hadn't she see it before? She knows it was denial, but, somehow, she used to overlook the small hints along the way like how he looks at her like she's the only thing that makes sense to him. For the first time in a while, she allows herself to embrace the idea of being loved without looking for something to justify her fears surrounding it.

The sound of her voice brings him out of the mesmerized trance he fell under at the sight of her.

"I've missed you," she says softly, "like a lot."

The sweet admission slows him down for a second, making him stop to ignore the distracting desire that she sparked to life a moment ago and take the time to cherish this moment of rare serenity with her.

It's a wonder that she hasn't even acknowledged the storm raging on outside since they've come back in. It's all thanks to him, of course, since she's been too focused on everything happening between them, but it surprises him. It makes a sense of pride flare up in him on her behalf for being capable of forgetting something she fears so much.

But, on the other hand, it reminds him of how distraught she was right before their conversation/argument on the porch shifted from her panic to the topic of their relationship, and he can't help but hesitate a little.

"I missed you too." The hand he isn't using to support himself above her cups her face, his thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. "Are you okay though? You were just crying and I don't wanna make you—"

"Yes."

It was so said so quickly, there was zero hesitation. It's not that it doesn't surprise him that she's as eager as he is after what started to happen out on the porch, but it does make his eyes widen a little. His mouth curls with a slight grin. It's the kind that never fails to make her stomach fluttering and light with butterflies.

"You don't have to worry about me. I'm okay, and I promise I'll let you know if I'm not," Y/N clarifies.

"Okay."

There's a short moment where all they do is look at each other with a complete loss for words to convey what they feel right now. It isn't as awkward as it would've been prior to tonight. Before they confessed their feelings, they wouldn't have been able to look at one another for any longer than a few seconds without needing to walk away to break the tension. Now, things have changed. They don't feel the need to conceal how much they care anymore.

They're still the same bickering duo they've always been with the added fun of being head over heels. She never used to understand how some people could let their feelings for another person drive them crazy, but it's done more than make her crazy this past week. It made her jealous, obsessive, and somehow happy too, and no one has ever made her feel so many varying emotions in her life.

Her fingertips graze the stretch of skin between where his cargo shorts sit on his hips and his shirt rides up the side of his torso, and he swallows thickly at the feeling.

"Do I make you nervous?" she asks.

Her lilting, smooth voice is enough to soothe any nerves he could possibly have. It's as if hearing her ask that paired with the hand teasing the waistband of his shorts pulled him back to the place he'd been before when she was teasing him over his clothes.

He answers honestly, his head going fuzzy with the crushing desire that courses through him, "Not as nervous as I make you," and closes the space between them again.

The cheeky comment doesn't go unnoticed by her, not one bit. It makes her face heat up in embarrassment that is purely instinct after having to hide her feelings from her for so long. Maybe after they've been together for longer, it won't make her blush every time he acknowledges the effect he has on her out loud, but that day isn't today. Today, she goes hot in the face from a sole second of his attention, let alone this.

JJ lets his hand climb up the length of her torso as they kiss as if they have all the time in the world, as if their best friend isn't sleeping less than twenty feet away from them, until it flattens at the base of her neck. It doesn't curl around her neck and squeeze, nor does it do anything but remind her how much she loves the feeling of him touching her, the large palm of his hand simply stays draped over her throat to flaunt his ability to sway her nerves.

She's pretty sure if it were anyone else, it wouldn't work, but he's JJ for fuck's sake, and the quiet display of dominance sends an exhilarating little thrill rumbling through her. It isn't anything over the top or exaggerated like some people would do in an attempt to stake a claim over the person they love, just a simple gesture that they both know the meaning of.

She's his. After five months of friendship, two months of silent pining, and a week of sexually confused hell, she's his, and he'll never let her forget it.

The wind rattles the windows over the couch with its force and she notices that his hips grind into hers at the sudden sound. Even in the midst of such a heated moment, it's downright cute how he still makes an effort to distract her from what she fears. And, boy, does it work.

Their panting breaths in the brief seconds they allow themselves to break away from each other are the only sounds audible in the small living room. The storm drowns it all out for now, including the noises that start to leave them from the steadily building pleasure of their bodies moving together.

She can feel how hard he is through the layers that separate them with every absentminded thrust that brushes the fabric of her panties up against her clit each time. It leaves her breathless and wondering, despite already knowing, what it'll feel like when he finally slips inside of her again.

They both fantasized about it in the time they spent apart. Neither of them would dare deny it, least of all JJ. It actually became frustrating after a while because she started to become the only scenario he could conjure to get himself off when he had a rare moment of privacy. His fantasies, all stemming from the night that was so perfect, he began to question the reality of it, linger in his head.

The best part of his fantasies were the parts of them based in truth, and if he knows anything about her when she's in this state, it's that she's needy. Her tongue swipes along his bottom lip in a silent urging to let her deepen the kiss, and he complies without a second to spare, willing to entertain her every whim so long as she keeps being so good for him.

He revels in her muffled squeak of a moan when he presses down on the sides of her throat at the precise moment his hips grind down to meet hers. She can't keep herself still for any longer than a half-second, always meeting his movements halfway and unknowingly doing another thing that will be the death of him.

She leads his shirt up his body without having to second guess herself, knowing that he's always on the same wavelength as her no matter what. This was how it was the last time too. Anything she did, he was already one step ahead, and tonight isn't much different. By the time her hands ball up the dripping cotton fabric, JJ is lifting the hand off of her neck to reach for the neckline of the shirt and help tug it off.

There's a sense of urgency in everything they do. Charged up with frustration and jealousy that brewed within the days they spent apart, there's nothing to stop them from reducing themselves to a pair of panting, impatient lovers too consumed in each other to care about the outside world.

The sopping wet fabric is thrown beyond her line of sight and lands on the hardwood floor with a 'thwack' that accompanies their cacophony of moans and gasps, and she whimpers at the sight of him. It may have to do with the fact that he's guiding their bodies together at a cadence and pressure perfect enough to make her legs tremble, but seeing him like this does nothing but aid the sensation.

Golden skin glistening under the candlelight, tendrils of half-dry blonde hair falling into his face with the lazy effort of his movements, and a stray raindrop that squeezed from the wet shirt dripping down his chest...she's not gonna make it out of tonight alive, is she? In her memory, she knew he was a sight to see in the midst of a heated moment, but, fuck, memories do not hold up beside the real experience of it.

Y/N is so caught up in his seemingly endless beauty, she doesn't notice him peeling her damp denim shorts off of her hips until they're halfway down her legs, and the only reason she does notice is because he must shift his position to do it. Suddenly, the budding feeling that stirred from their needy antics is plucked away and left to ache for more in the absence of him between her thighs.

Her middle and index fingers hook around the front of his necklace to pull him back down to her, but he doesn't budge at first. He's too busy trying to rid her of her shirt to care.

It was too much of a distraction while they kissed for him to resist slipping it off of her when he got the chance to. Much to his frustration when he first realized they were trapped with each other, she's braless underneath, and it's only worse now that the t-shirt is soaked to her skin and clinging to every delicate curve.

Once the clothing gives way to the canvas of her bare skin, he submits to her urgency and follows her down by the fingers hooked around his necklace without any qualms.

As soon as they resume, it's as if they never stopped to begin with, and they start to realize how seamlessly they fit together as the seconds elapse. Neither of them are actively thinking about it while he dips his hand into the front of her panties, but it is in their subconscious.

It's a revelation of sorts, an ah-ha moment where it hits them both in a sweeping realization that it was obvious from the day they met. They should've known sooner, they should've dropped their pride and admitted it as soon as the first inklings of desire began to pop up, but they didn't. Instead, it washes over them now and they let the current take them away together.

Her mouth falls open against his cheek at the feeling of his fingers swiping through the arousal that pools in her underwear for him, dragging the wetness over his fingertips and spreading it up to brush fleetingly against her clit. It's a split-second of a touch that it makes her hips lift up off the floor on their own accord to seek out more. It makes her dig her nails into the skin stretching over his taut shoulder muscles in a wordless plea for more that he doesn't indulge her in at first.

He makes her earn it from him without having to say a single word. He touches her, but he doesn't touch where she wants or ease his fingers into her to satisfy the need she feels yet. It's a blessing and a curse that he manages to turn her on to such an extent. He does it for her like nothing else can, so much so that she's noticed a distinct difference in how it feels when she's alone versus when they're together. When she's alone, it can tend to feel like active effort, but when she's with him, it's as natural as the urge to breathe.

His smirk is felt against her skin the entire time she begs for it through the revealing actions of her body—her hips jerking up toward him, her chest pressing tightly to his, and the sound of her murmuring, "Please," in a breathy tone that could stop his heart.

"Tell me what you want," JJ says, every word constrained and tight in a way that tells her he's a lot less composed than he lets on, and "accidentally" swipes his thumb over her clit again. "Talk to me, baby."

She almost forgot in their time apart how much of an effect he has on her, but this is the best reminder of that she could possibly imagine. If she could, she would find a way to bottle the feeling he gives her and keep it with her forever so that, no matter what happens between them, she'll never have the misfortune of forgetting him.

What he said simultaneously melts her heart and frustrates her to no end because he knows! He knows damn well what she wants from him and won't give it to her unless she asks for it, and she hates herself for loving it. She hates herself for enjoying the flushed-face embarrassment it brings to her cheeks to be so open with him about what she needs.

She swallows the lump in her throat and tries to focus through the clouded landscape of her head to speak to him. It's hard to concentrate when he's above her like this, touching her, calling her pet names, and looking at her like that.

With his lips worshiping the sensitive skin along her neck, she finds it hard to choke out the words, "I want you," into the humid air that has infiltrated the house.

It's not a lie. Anything regarding her wanting him or any related feeling is no longer something she can hide anymore, but they both know it isn't exactly what he wanted. No matter how it took his breath away to hear her say it, he was seeking something more specific. He was aiming to make her ask, maybe even beg, for it. They're both too impatient to wait and based on how wet his fingertips are from barely dipping into her, he can tell she's as eager as he is.

It's been thirteen days too long since the last time they allowed themselves to meet this way, and neither of them wants to let it happen again.

She was nearly trembling with the urge to go to him whenever they were together in the company of their friends, unable to think about anything except for how badly she wanted him. All the while, he appeared so unbothered, especially on the night of the party when he flirted with someone else, that she didn't even believe he felt the same way back. Thankfully for her, she couldn't have been more wrong.

He clicks his tongue and says, still teasing her with light touches that never linger in one place for too long, "That wasn't very specific."

Part of her should know that he's about to do something based on how he withdraws his head from its cherished place in the crook of her neck, but she's too caught up in the anticipation and seeing his face for the first time in a minute to think about it. How dare he look so good? She could cry in frustration, although she might actually already be tearing up a little with the rush of neediness hitting her in its full force.

Never has she felt so turned on by so little physical contact before. It usually takes longer for her to get to this point, whether it be alone or in the past with previous partners, yet all it took was being kissed, touched, and being given his undivided attention and now...She realizes she's in trouble. He has her in an emotional and sexual chokehold at this point, and she fears that no one can compare.

"I want—" her voice is snuffed out in an instant when he eases two fingers into her, "Oh!"

So that's why he pulled away from her neck to look at her.

It was worth abandoning the mark forming on her neck just to see the expression on her face shift. She gets this cute look when anything overwhelming starts to happen where her brows scrunch a little to create a soft wrinkle between them as her mouth drops open in a moan. And after ten steady minutes of doing nothing but some over the clothes action and painstaking teasing, this is as overwhelming as it gets without it crossing the line to being too much.

It never occurred to her how much larger his fingers are compared to hers until now. This type of pleasure is like an itch only someone else can scratch to her, she feels virtually nothing when she does it to herself, but when he does it, it's like an explosive being set off inside of her. Especially with the thumb that sneaks up to circle her clit without stopping to tease her again, she is putty in his hands at this point.

Every smooth stroke of his fingers into her reaches a spot she can never quite find on her own, and she can feel the cold bite of rings when they're buried into her to the knuckle.

It's a surprise every time, even when she knows to expect it. Like a delightful chill running up through her body and down her spine exactly how it's intended to. It strikes an idea in her head for when he eventually pulls them out of her, conjuring the image of her sucking them clean for him just for the sake of imagining what it'll do to him.

With that idea tucked away in the back of her mind, he's the center of her world right now. All she breathes, thinks, and feels is him. Whether it be the sight of him, or the feelings he's giving her, or even the taste of his kiss that still lingers on her tongue, it connects to one common thread.

"What were you saying?" JJ asks, and she wants to wipe that smirk right off his face.

It's virtually impossible for her to piece together a coherent thought, let alone a sentence detailing every filthy idea she has for him, but she tries. It takes another moment or two of her succumbing to the rapid incline of pleasure that he gives her, watching her in wonder through any greedy buck of her hips or gasping inhale that makes her head loll back onto the floor.

At first, what she wanted to say was that she wanted him to touch her, to do anything more than the fleeting touches he gave before. Now, she wants more than that. Now that she's drawn in closer to the eventual high that's to come, she doesn't want it to happen like this. She wants to feel closer to him than this, wants to feel him throb inside of her and fuck her with all of the urgency and desperation that has accumulated in their time apart.

That's why her hands start to grab at the belt loops of his shorts to tug him closer by them, meeting his gaze through the hazy bliss of his fingers pumping into her. It's not enough.

"Please"—she keeps pulling him closer to her, so close that there's hardly any space left to cross, and he revels in her desperation—"just fuck me already..."

Internally, JJ is losing his shit.

Though this was what he wanted, what he coaxed out of her with the teasing and the pretend sense of a nonchalant attitude on his part, it hits him harder than he expected it to to hear her say it. It's not necessarily the act of begging itself either, it's the fact that she's the one doing it. She may have been jealous of the girl at the party, but she had nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest.

Before her, he never thought he'd fall for someone this way. It's not like he had a hatred for love or anything, he understood the appeal, it simply wasn't his thing.

He was perfectly content with his only form of companionship being his friends. Then, she came along and changed it. So to hear her say something like that isn't just breathtaking, it's the kind of thing that makes his heart ache for her. It hits him precisely where she wanted it to, and he has never felt as consumed with love the way he does now.

JJ can do nothing to stop himself from pouncing on her at this point, like some animalistic form of himself has worn down the restraint he used to keep himself at bay.

The loss she feels when his fingers slip away from her is an emptiness she mourns at first before she realizes what's happening. He pulls away slightly to reach down between them for the front of his shorts, and their hands clash as they both frantically try to undo them together. The rings adorning his fingers glisten when they catch the light and remind her of the thought that popped into her head when she first felt their coldness against her skin.

That idea paired with the promise of what they're trying to accomplish in their uncoordinated attempt to get the rest of their clothes off makes her want to press her thighs together. Her hands abandon the task of undoing his shorts for the sake of ridding herself of the last layer that separates her from him.

Her most embarrassing old pair of brightly colored panties, courtesy of past Y/N's questionable decision to trust her mom to buy some on her behalf, are hardly a sight to behold. They're the kind that come in a value pack from Walmart, vibrant blue with the word, "Tuesday," printed on the front of them, and she could hide her face into the rug in shame if she weren't so determined to get them off. Of all the days to wear the day of the week undies her mom accidentally got her, of course she chose today.

By the time she reaches for the waistband, he has pushed his shorts and underwear down his thighs and comes back to her with just as much excitement as he left with, but when he helps her tug her panties down her legs, he laughs. Apparently, he had also been too eager to touch her to notice what was written on them before.

"Cute," he breathes out through a laugh, then adds as the cotton fabric slips over her knees, "Pretty sure it's not Tuesday though."

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll—"

He cuts her off, "Whatever you wanna threaten me with won't work, chances are I'm gonna be into it."

Her eyes are alight with a certain fire he's had yet to fully lure out of her. Even her voice is slightly more airy and seductive as a result of it.

"Promise?"

JJ grins down at her as he finally tosses her panties aside with the rest of their clothes, "Cross my heart, pretty girl."

His hands grip her thighs and tug her down the  rug to him with a quick jolt that snaps them out of the playful nature of their back and forth teasing. No matter how lighthearted of an interruption it was, the mini-conversation might as well have never existed for how easily they fall back into it again.

She watches with her forehead pressed against his as he strokes himself a few times, then drags his tip, messy with precome, through her wet heat. And though she watches it happen, her body still arches into his when he lines up with her and sinks his hips forward.

She anticipated it, but she still gasps and digs her nails into his biceps at the sensation of him pushing into her. Neither of them bothers to worry about the obvious lack of a condom—it was discussed the first time around when he offered and she told him it was okay. He's often the one to silence the alarm on her phone warning her in its title to, "Take your birth control or else, bitch," while she searches her bag for it anyway, so he trusts her.

Both of them prefer it this way enough to risk the  minuscule failure rate of the pill anyway. It's more intimate, closer, and they can both feel the warmth of each other in a way that would've been somewhat muted with an added layer between them. It makes the feeling of him entering her all the more gratifying as she tenses up around him in reaction, drawing a groan from where his parted lips brush against hers.

She lifts her head off of the floor as much as she can to capture his mouth with her own and stifle the sonorous sound despite the storm doing a better job of it.

It seems that every blast of wind and roll of thunder is in their favor tonight, so much so that he isn't even worried about getting walked in on. It's not a thought in his head at this point, the only thought he's capable of having is this. Forgive him for being shortsighted, but he doesn't give a shit if John B notices or hears what's happening when he's buried inside of her so deeply.

His hips are flush with the backs of her thighs in a matter of seconds, and right when he pauses to give her a breather, he feels her shake her head ever so slightly against where their faces are pressed together.

The touch of her hands on his hips is not timid by any means, it's commanding. Her palm prints singe an indelible claim into the surface of his skin as she guides him to start moving without a second spared to dwindle the discomfort of him filling her up. It's less like a pain and more of a pressure blooming from the insistent presence of him, not so overwhelming that it's painful, but it's an effort to breathe evenly and the only thing that'll ease this transitional moment is to continue.

At first, their bodies start to rock together lazily as though on autopilot. They'd hardly be conscious of the fact that they're doing anything if not for the initial sensations of heady ecstasy that flash like the sparks of a lighter in response to their movements. As soon as he felt her hands coax him into action, he sighed happily and surrendered himself to the instinct of wanting to move.

The merging of their bodies is less of the aggressive rutting motions they'll surely succumb to once their current pace is no longer satisfying, but that doesn't make it any less intense. She's partly sure that this is one of the most vulnerable moments either of them has ever had when it comes to sex, and it wouldn't work if it weren't them together. No other person could consume her the way he does, taking up every unoccupied space of her soul until there's nothing left but the silent begging of her heart for him.

Their kiss is messy when it breaks to allow them the chance to suck down a couple breaths of air, saliva shining on his lips in between the seconds it takes them to come crashing back together.

It's loving enough to rot her teeth with its sweetness, a slow but impossibly deep grinding of their hips together that continually presses the tip of him into that sweet spot inside of her, but it takes a turn.

Not only do her hands shift from his hips up to the sides of his waist to get a firmer hold on him, the kiss starts to become vigorous, almost hungry, in search of something more. The dreamlike sequence of the first moment or so they spent slowly fucking under the warm hues of candlelight starts to unravel to reveal the baser instincts that guide them forward.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he whispers the praise into her mouth.

As soon as the words are said, he can feel the effect it has on her. The hands braced on his waist pull his body closer to her at the same moment that she involuntarily squeezes down around him, making the smooth drag of his cock against the velvet-soft heat of her walls even tighter than he thought possible.

The sudden feeling of it makes his first returning thrust much harder than the last. He jerks forward into her with none of the restraint he's retained for the past few moments, and her reaction is nothing short of perfection, at least from his perspective. He watches her throw her head back in a moan, hips bucking to him in pursuit of more, and feels the tips of her fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into the unmarred skin along his waist.

"JJ!" she gasps in surprise, and if her initial reaction weren't enough to spur him on in a frenzied state of desire, this is.

He almost forgot how intense it had been the first time. Their confessions of love preceding this made them both somewhat softer and sweeter in their approach when they started, but he knows how she likes it.

Nobody would expect it from her. He's another story entirely, especially considering how much John B and Pope know about him, but her? He didn't have any in depth conversations about it with either of them, so none of their friends know how dirty she is.

But when you start to tease it out of her, she's got a side to her that makes his blood run hot. Considering how polite she is, he sure as hell didn't see it coming. For fuck's sake, she's the kind of person who'll apologize to a chair if she bumps into it. With that in mind he never thought she'd be the type to demand such things of him.

Just like that, with one moan of his name, it's like she flipped a switch in him that they forgot was there in the first place. It'll never stop surprising him how little it takes to get him going when he's with her, and he doesn't see that changing no matter how long they spend together in the future. Just a touch from her is all it takes, so it's needless to say that the sound of her calling out his name was more than enough.

Those slow, deep movements he made to sink into her again and again have turned rapid and rough, but still controlled enough to have a semblance of precision to them, hitting in all the right places.

"I bet," JJ speaks lowly, "that you want John B to walk out and see us right now."

She doesn't want to admit how much of an instantaneous effect those words have on her, but the feeling of her clenching around him as she bites back a moan completely betrays her. Partly, she worries that he'll take that the wrong way and think it has something to do with John B when it has nothing to do with him at all, but he doesn't. For the spare second of thought she's allowed to have before her mind goes hazy again, she notes how much more eager he is on the upstroke of the next thrust.

Noticing how right he was in his assumption about her liking the risk of getting caught jumpstarts his heart and makes everything he does rougher. She can sense that he's starting to lose control over himself and is acting on instinct alone.

It makes her much more sensitive to everything he does, and all she can do is cling to him and enjoy it as she takes in everything he says and does. It's hard to pick one thing to focus on between the switch up in pace and what he said.

"You want John B to know you like getting fucked like a slut, don't you?"

She could get off on the sound of his voice alone. Hearing him say stuff like that kills her, it makes the swirling bliss that builds in the pit of her abdomen with every thrust he gives her triple in its extremity.

Her legs are tightly wound around his hips to keep him as near to her as possible, her hands sliding up around his waist to keep a steady grasp on him while he pounds into her. The rug scratches at her back enough to make it sting alongside the immense pleasure building in her, but she doesn't care. When blended with the good sensations, the pain underscores the addictive feeling of him inside of her, fucking her exactly how she asked him too.

Looking up at him when he's like this is simply unreal. There's no other way of describing it in her eyes except for that. He's so stunning, she's inclined to believe that he isn't even real as a means of explaining it. This shouldn't be real. It should be one of her daydreams while she steals covert stares at him as they hang out with the Pogues, but it isn't. She can't wrap her head around it.

Those strands of hair that were damp from the rain are mostly dry as they fall into his eyes with the force of his movements. The sight of him alone, set aside from the rest of it, is enough to make her writhe beneath him and claw at his back in tandem with another thrust that sends her jolting against the rug.

He takes one of his hands up from where they both held her hips for leverage to weave his fingers into the roots of her hair.

He demands between the panting breaths and moans that flood the limited space between them, tugging on her hair, "Answer me."

She instantly blurts out the words, "I want him to see us." The feeling of him tilting her head back by the fistful of hair he has wrapped up in his hand is her persistent reminder to concentrate enough to continue, and she bites down on her lip to contain a moan before speaking again, "I want him to know..."

Her cheeks burn with the mere thought of it, let alone saying it out loud. He's the only person she'd ever let in on this intimate side of her, the side that makes her crazy when she hears him say stuff like this. The reason she feels so comfortable doing this with him is that she knows he understands her. It's as if he can read her mind without even having to try, knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

It wouldn't matter if the topic of their exhibitionism were any other Pogue or a stranger, it isn't about who it is, it's about the thrill attached to the concept of almost getting seen during such a heated moment. In all actuality, John B is probably snoring face down into his pillow right now with no care for what's happening out here, but he knows what it does to her when they push the boundaries of decency this way. It's the same rush he gets from stealing random, useless things every so often, it's the thrill of getting away with something.

The hand tangled up in the roots of her hair sneaks down between their colliding bodies to rub her clit, and her mouth drops open to take in a shaky breath.

The sight of her beneath him is undoing in and of itself. Head tilted enough to expose her neck to him, chest rising and falling rapidly with her breaths, and breasts bouncing gently with the momentum of their actions—seeing her this way makes his thrusts ramp up into more of a frenzied, uncontainable pace rather than one with the same control and cadence as before. But it's mostly the eye contact that kills him. She doesn't dare to shut her eyes the entire time, as if she can sense that he'll tell her to look at him again the second she does.

"You want him to know what?" he asks, and she knows he won't let her get away with not saying it.

She whines, utterly helpless to the climax starting to build inside of her, "Please."

What she's pleading for, she isn't quite sure, but he can tell by how she's acting that she's starting to get closer, and he wants nothing more than to tease her with the impending chance of her orgasm.

"If you wanna come, you're gonna have to do a lot better than that."

Just like that, he withdraws his hand from between them and leaves her desperate, blindly grasping for the peak she was so close to reaching, she could almost feel it already.

With JJ rocking into her at a relaxed, slower rhythm, the pleasure hasn't disappeared completely. It's there, but she can sense the feeling of her orgasm receding as quickly as it had creeped up on her as soon as he slips his hand out from between them.

It's instantly clear to him how desperate she is as all of her previous shyness surrounding having to admit this to him out loud withers away in seconds. She isn't beneath begging again at this point. He could tell her to crawl across the floor to him and she'd happily do it for the chance of touching him. It's pathetic but true. As much as she has him wrapped around her finger, he has done the same to her and she isn't afraid to admit it anymore.

Her hips jerk toward him in search of the familiar frenzy they were in before that sent her to the brink of climax, but he is impressively stubborn. Despite the fact that it physically pains him to dial it back again, he tries to keep the signs of his own frustration at bay. She knew what she had to say to get what she wants, so he'll only cave when she does.

This time around, she doesn't give a fuck about how badly she blushes or the voice in the back of her mind telling her she should keep this side of her to herself. This time, the one thing she needs to do to prompt her to open her mouth and speak the dirty words he asked her less than a moment ago is look at him. One second of staring up at him and here she is, driven mad enough to say or do anything to get him to pick up where they left off.

She says between the soft noises and breaths coming from them both, clinging to him through every slow but deep thrust that sends sparks ricocheting through her body, "I want John B to know I like getting fucked like slut." Her voice is breathless, and he hangs off of each word as she pauses, looking up at him with a challenging attitude swirling in those pretty eyes. "So stop being a tease and fuck me like one."

His jaw clenches at the bratty statement, one he's too far gone to resist at this point, and right when he's about to respond to her, she speaks again.

"Either that," she says, and a deceptively sweet smile crosses her kiss-swollen lips, "or I can go ask him to—"

She doesn't even get the chance to voice the rest of that thought before he's set into motion.

The hands on her hips flip her over with such casual strength, all she can do is yelp in surprise at the sudden movement that blurs the living room in her peripheral version until she lands with her hands and knees pressing into the rug. He was so swift in pulling out of her and tossing her onto her front like she was nothing more than a rag doll, she hardly had the time to take a breath before she ended up here.

There's hardly any time between when he pulled out to flip her over and when he returns to her again, but it feels like an eternity for them. The few second transition might as well be a few years as she feels his hands guiding her body where he wants it, pushing down on her back until it arches just so, and falls down onto her arms. But as soon as she gets situated, she feels a pair of hands yanking her arms away from where they were braced against the floor and put them behind her back.

It's only then, when he has an unflinching grasp on where he keeps her wrists behind her back with one of his hands, that she is met with the relief of him sinking into her again.

Y/N's jaw goes slack, and she cries out into the rug that her cheek is pressed into as he gives her no chance to adjust or catch her breath before resuming the brutal pace they kept a moment ago. Mentioning anyone else but him doing this to her was the quickest way to get him to snap, so it's safe to say that she's getting what she wanted. After all, she did what he asked, it's fair that she gets rewarded for it.

Amidst the sounds of the storm waging war on the landscape outside of the house, the one thing she can hear over the buzzing pleasure that drowns out her senses is the sinful blend of sounds they create together. It's the sound of their bodies merging, his name falling from her lips, and the curses he makes under his breath that never fail to drive her a little wild.

The hand that isn't holding her arms behind her slides down the length of her curved back until it wraps around her throat to pin her down, and her reaction is everything he could ask for. Seeing her rock back against him to meet him halfway makes his grip on her wrists tighten enough to turn his knuckles white.

Her hair is spread in endless directions in a fan around her head, and he can only see one side of her face from where he kneels behind her, but that glimpse is more than enough. Brows scrunched in pleasure, mouth dropped open in a gape as soft 'uh's and 'ah's escape her on the upstroke of each thrust—she's a mess right now. A beautiful, perfect mess.

"Oh God, JJ," she moans between her rapid breaths and the strong hand constricting her neck, "I'm so close. Please, just let me come."

It took virtually nothing for her to be pushed right back to the edge of the peak she was at less than a minute ago. It took a mere half-minute of this and she's once again reduced to incoherent pleas for more and shaking with no control over herself. Her legs tremble with the effort to keep herself up in this position, and she isn't even the one doing most of the work. In all fairness, this change in position has made the intensity triple. It's deeper this way, and with how harshly he slams into her, it's as though she can feel it in the base of her abdomen.

It's the enjoyable type of pain, however, not the bad type. It'll surely end up with her being sore tomorrow, but she can't hide how much she loves the painful pleasure of how rough it's getting. Being denied an orgasm when she was so, so close to it was initially disappointing too, but it was worth it. If the build up to what would've been her climax before was a spark, this is a flourishing fire spreading through her with no chance of smothering the flames.

He lets go of her throat and taps the side of her jaw in a silent request that she picks up immediately, letting her lips fall open to suck his fingers into her mouth without a second of hesitation.

The taste of her arousal on them is faint, but still there, and it occurs to her that she thought about this earlier before things evolved into chaos. Her tongue swirls around the tips of his fingers as he starts to pull them away in what feels like the blink of an eye to her, leaving him to remember what it felt like when her lips were once wrapped around a more sensitive part of him a week and a half ago.

The one other time he let himself remember it was when they were on the boat with the Pogues, yet that wasn't really of his own volition. It was hot out, so Kiara bought ice pops for them and his mind wandered far from where it should've stayed.

Shining with her saliva, his fingers are pulled from her lips with a soft 'pop' in pursuit of that sensitive collection of nerves at the apex of her thighs. She just needs is a little push to go over the edge, and when he slips his hand down her body to rub tight circles onto her clit, she loses whatever remnants of control over herself she had left.

The steady rhythm of her hips moving back against him falters as she is overwhelmed with the separate sensations culminating into one and giving her the push she needs to come. Her entire body tenses up in anticipation, and since she's pinned to the floor with her hands behind her back, she can only lay there and savor the feeling as it hits her.

After what felt like ages of having it build and build within her, then having it taken away to start the process over again, finally being given a release is a relief beyond any she's felt before.

It's so consuming, it takes away her ability to think of anything outside of how it feels to dissolve into the shockwaves of euphoria rushing through her. Every pulsing wave is prolonged by him, not even through the peak of it does he let up on his precise touches and unforgiving thrusts into her that turn a typical orgasm into the most intense thing she's ever felt.

She's melting in his arms through it all, and as if the change in position didn't make it worse, her involuntary spasms leave him hanging on by a thread.

JJ collapses onto her, barely having the chance to keep himself propped up on his arms as he lets go of her wrists and falls forward onto her sweat-slick back.

The heat of his panting exhales raises goosebumps in its wake where his face is buried into the curve of her neck, and he whines at the impossibly tight feeling of her squeezing around his cock through the end of her climax. Those sounds he doesn't realize he's making have her writhing through the aftershocks, answering with a sound of her own that almost makes him come instantly.

For that reason, he makes the decision to pull out and flip her onto her back.

At this point, she's so dazed and fucked out that she doesn't register any of it until she notices the hollow absence of him inside of her, but it doesn't matter when his face appears through the partial darkness above her.

Despite how sensitive she is right now, the sight of him makes her hands reach out blindly to pull him closer again. They're frantic in their need to get back to one another, grasping and clawing until he finds his way back to her in less than a second, hiking her legs up around his waist with a touch that is somehow demanding and tender at the same time.

It's only when he's inside of her again that it occurs to her why he rolled her onto her back again, and it makes her want to kiss him until her lips turn numb. It may be undeniably hotter to pin someone down and fuck them hoarse, but, no, that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be able to look at her, to see her face, and the thought of that has her biting back a sudden confession of love. She isn't sure why she doesn't say it right away, since it isn't like they haven't already done it, but she keeps it to herself for a second first.

It's different now. It's not less passionate or frenetic. It isn't as if he isn't being as rough with her as he was before, but they can both sense a shift in the energy between them as soon as he reenters her. It's less about the pursuit of pleasure and more about the feelings they've kept hidden away for so long. It's a simultaneous realization that hits them a little late after they initially confessed their feelings for each other: this is reality. It's real, and when she touches him this time, he isn't going to disappear if she opens her eyes.

The realization of what happened tonight had yet to hit them until right this second, but now that it has, they move forward with a sense of sentimentality that remained partly dormant before.

If there's anything JJ dislikes, it's being vulnerable. The idea of letting someone in to see every part of him, including the parts he doesn't want to see of himself, has always terrified him after years of being made to believe he's undeserving, yet he isn't uncomfortable right now. Somehow, he feels safe with her. Sex has never been something so emotional for him until now, until her, and he doesn't want it differently.

Their bodies are drawn in close, her arms thrown around his neck, and he's so close, he can feel the muscles leading down past his lower abdomen contract with the inevitable approach of his orgasm. She can sense it too in how he acts.

When he gets close, he becomes clingier and lets his feelings get the better of him. His hands squeeze at her hips, sliding up her sides and back down to hike one of her legs up high around his waist to press deeper into her. He can't bear to allow his touch to stay in one place for too long before exploring another part of her, wanting to memorize the delicate intricacies of her body in its entirety.

It's as if she can read his mind too, cause even when she's sensitive enough to gasp when he pushes her thigh to her chest and throws his remaining energy into fucking her at a satisfying pace, she understands what he needs. She knows to reach up and run her fingers through his hair, to tug on it gently until the light strands are taut from his scalp. She knows to lift her head off of the floor enough to trail tender kisses along his face, his jaw, his neck—anywhere she can access.

"Come for me," she says into a kiss placed on the edge of his cheekbone, reeling in overstimulation as she jolts with his quickening thrusts, "I want to watch you..."

Hearing those words, paired with the kisses and fingers pulling on his hair, does it for him. It doesn't take more for his hips to falter and jerk forward into her a final few times before he comes.

Their foreheads press together as they cling to one another for stability, though it's mostly JJ clinging to her while she watches in adoration, and she has to bite her lip to contain a moan at how it feels. The aftershocks of her orgasm have yet to fade as the feeling of pulsing warmth inside of her makes them stronger, reigniting the fire she felt a moment ago if only for a second.

There's a closeness to this situation that they hadn't felt the last time, and they know it has everything to do with what was said before this happened. The sex itself feels like a dream sequence in her mind now that she's coming down from it with him, moving together slowly and gently beneath the candlelight until they ride out the ends of their highs. It was like they were put under a trance by each other, and now that it's over, the first thoughts that come to mind are of what comes next.

It's not the sole topic on their minds though. They're more focused on catching their breath from where they lay, tangled up together, on the living room floor. As soon as the very last of his orgasm faded from him, he fell onto her without a single ounce of energy left to spare. He's careful not to crush her, but, for the most part, he relaxes on top of her and lets his head rest on her heaving chest.

Strong arms slip down to loop around her waist, and she sure that she couldn't get him to release her if she wanted to, which she doesn't.

But they can't stay like this, not for any longer than a few moments anyway, since they don't know how if John B might wake up and come out of the safety of his bedroom after hours of leaving them to their own devices. JJ was right. He's out cold, but for as much as it turned them on in the heat of the moment, neither of them finds getting caught by him as hot with the clarity of their rational minds coming back to them.

He's the one to break the silence.

"As much as I wanna stay like this, we should probably move in case John B wakes up."

The sound of his voice settles in her with the effects of a sedative. It calms her more than anything else could, especially with the added comfort of him cuddling her so closely. One of her hands strokes through his hair and pushes the damp tendrils of sunshine away from his face as he cranes his neck to look up at her. And, for fuck's sake, what else is she to do except admire him?

His cheeks are dusted pink in a way they often are when he spends too much time outside without one of his hats shielding his face, and she thinks he's never looked better.

Ever since they became friends, she's had this theory about him. In the unrealistic landscape of her overactive imagination, JJ didn't come to this world the way the rest of them did. To her, it seems impossible that someone so good, even in his worst moments, could've come from someone like his dad.

So, in idle moments where she would watch him on a day out with the Pogues or daydream about him, she decided that he's the sun.

She imagines he was created in those breathtaking but brief moments where the sun meets the horizon atop the ocean and washes the sky with a vast array of colors. She likes to think he's the incarnation of it. Golden, warm, and bright for everyone but himself, he keeps the world light for her and their friends without intending to.

Some days are warmer than others too. Some days, the light is dimmed by another bruise beneath his clothes or a bad run-in with some kooks, but today is not like that. This moment is eighty-five and sunny with a balmy breeze. Looking at him right now feels like basking in the sun, and she'd burn here forever if he let her.

Without realizing she zoned out, she jolts when he pinches her arm to rouse her from her ridiculous thoughts. He has this dopey half-smile on his face that nearly draws her back into them again.

"You know what they say," he says, "if you take a picture..."

Her soft laughter invades the room, filling his heart with this light, fluttery feeling that always finds him when she's near. His smile grows as she playfully shoves him and reaches above their heads for her wet shirt to cover up with just in case. Odds are, their friend isn't waking up at the exact moment before they seclude themselves to the spare room and get dressed, but she doesn't wanna take that chance.

"I wasn't staring."

She was totally staring. But who could blame her? When someone looks at a person the way he looks at her, how could they ever stay away?

"Whatever you say."

JJ keeps smiling to himself while he pulls his underwear and shorts up his legs and waits for her to be decent enough to sneak past John B's bedroom to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

The clothes are soaked through with rainwater, so they feel quite uncomfortable to slip back on, but they merely redress enough to be covered. She stole his shirt to avoid putting her shorts back on, the hem of the grey tee hanging right at the tops of her thighs when she walks. As soon as she slips her panties back on and picks up the rest of their cold, wet clothes, that's the cue he needs to scoop her up and take her away.

Y/N curses under her breath in surprise at feeling her feet being plucked off the ground, but she relaxes again once she's settled in his arms, realizing that it was just him who snuck up behind her and lifted her into his arms.

She doesn't say anything on the way to the bathroom. Instead, she lays her head on his shoulder in exhaustion and finds herself staring at the mark she left behind on his neck.

It's a deep, purplish red against the backdrop of his tan skin...the Pogues will surely notice the next time they see him. And while it will make her blush, it won't make her scared as it once would've. There may be a lingering sense of doubt and insecurity within her, but she wants this with him. Even if it means being teased by their friends or dealing with the jealousy of watching kook girls and tourons at parties hit on him, she wants this.

By the time the shower is spraying the rainwater from her hair and washing her clean of sweat sticking to her skin, she realizes that he isn't saying anything either, but she doesn't think it's out of any awkwardness or miscommunication. There's truly nothing to say, at least for now.

Though they didn't have the chance to talk in depth about everything yet, neither of them thinks of that right now. All they know is that they're together, whether it be officially or not, and it feels good. For once, something in his life feels right, and he lets himself enjoy it in silence.

The shower is a cramped space when shared between them and the wet clothes they have draped over the back edge of the tub, but they make it work. It's not like they mind anyway.

They bump into one another whenever they do so much as breathe, and the white walls echo the sounds of her giggling when he tries to tickle her. She leans her head back against his chest and lets out a laugh with shampoo dripping down the front of her face, and he'll be damned if he ever heard a sound as intoxicating as that.

It's a little weird. He's never been as soft and loving with a person before, and he has already felt overwhelmed in the lulls of quiet between them when he's given the chance to think about it.

When she washes his hair for him, insisting that she must return the favor after he so kindly washed hers, he was struck with the same mixture of wanting to simultaneously lean into and pull away from her that he felt the night of the party.

The warmth of the water loosens his sore muscles, washing suds of the green apple scented shampoo over his shoulders and down, down, down until it circles the drain beside his feet. All the while, her fingertips are delicately tracing over a healing bruise on his torso. Those pretty lips of hers are painted in a suppressed frown that she can't hide from him.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asks.

His instant reaction is to fake a smile, to brush it off and distract her as he usually does, yet he doesn't. He forces himself to remain neutral and not push her away.

"Happens all the time," he murmurs, shrugging and averting his eyes to reach for the soap off on the ledge.

The hands holding either side of his waist tighten as he tries to turn, pulling him back to her with more strength than he knew to anticipate from her. Their chests gently collide back together beneath the stream of water, and she can feel his breathing catch for a second or so in response.

The fact that their relationship has changed doesn't change how she handles this aspect of his life. Their new confessions don't have an impact on the part of his life he never wants to let anyone see, so she isn't going to force him to talk about it because they're trying out this whole relationship thing now. He has hard boundaries that she knows not to push sometimes. That's the way it is, and it might change as they grow closer but she knows to accept it for the moment.

As soon as he hears what she has to say next, he could crumble in relief at the realization that their new dynamic doesn't change anything.

"I didn't necessarily mean...that...I meant generally, you know? It's just that—" she sighs, "you shrink away a little when I hold you, and I wondered if I was making you uncomfortable."

Before she could finish the sentence, JJ was already thinking of what to say to prove her wrong, because that's not it. That's not what it is, and if she thinks she's done anything wrong, he'll do anything to convince her otherwise because it isn't her. It's him.

It's his dad lingering in the darker trenches of his mind, commanding his fear and attention so that even when he isn't physically present, he's still here. Part of why he denied wanting her was because he knew these types of things would arise in the beginning, that there would be difficult adjustments to make and conversations to be had, and he didn't want her to leave him as soon as she was faced with one of these things.

He shakes his head.

"You didn't do anything."

The feeing of her chest rising and falling with his begins to steady him after a moment of allowing the initial hesitation to dissolve. His internal reaction to her touch is the mental incarnation of a flinch. It's him waiting for the other shoe to drop and expecting her to do something, to hurt him, before his mind catches up with his heart. But once he realizes everything's okay, he loves it.

"It's kinda embarrassing, but I guess when you touch me, I'm expecting something else," he says softly, scared that if he speaks too loudly, everyone in the world will know how weak he feels.

She should've figured, but hearing him say it is different than wondering what the reasoning behind it is. Hearing him admit it after months of strict avoidance on the topic is a sucker punch to the gut.

Both times they had sex, he was too distracted and thoughtless to get caught up in that part of himself, but it's when the bliss of the afterglow disappears that it creeps back in. That's why he could always handle touch when it came in that context. It was his way of obtaining what he wanted without having to face this side of it—a temporary fix to a greater web of issues.

But there's nothing temporary about her. He doesn't want her to leave him, not without him resisting the urge to beg her on his knees to stay and at least remain his friend, so there's no choice but to face these momentary challenges head on.

She pauses for a second, thinking, then says, "You don't have to be embarrassed about it, I get it. We'll just have to take it day by day then. We can take it slow, and you'll let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?"

It's hard not to be shocked by how well she's taking it. A lot of people probably wouldn't feel too great after someone they love tells them they expect to be hit whenever they touch them, yet she's taking it in stride.

Things are back to normal as soon as she sees the grin on his face.

"So, you're saying you're gonna be trying not to throw yourself at me all the time?" JJ asks, then clicks his tongue as though in thought. "I give you a week. Tops."

Her eyes go wide as she looks at him. She holds her hand over her heart as she pretends to be scandalized by such an accusation, but they know it's true. They both can't keep their hands off of one another, which is why it confuses him. How can he want to reject and enjoy her touch at the same time? Sure, the discomfort disappears after the first split-second, but the fact that it happens in the first place annoys him to no end.

She rolls her eyes and tries to hide the fact that she's giggling as she reaches for the soap.

"You're a little shit, you know that?"

He doesn't miss a beat, saying back, "Yeah but I'm your little shit, so I feel like that says more about you than it does me."

While he's too busy rinsing the rest of the shampoo out of his hair, she smiles to herself at what he said.

Hers.

Nobody has ever been hers before, or proclaimed themselves as belonging to her as proudly and casually as he just did, and her heart melts over the sweet sentiment he didn't think twice about.

Less than a day ago, she was agonizing over her relationship with him and trying to ignore how powerful those feelings for him were, and now they're here. She no longer has to steal glances when he looks away or hide how jealous she feels when other girls flirt with him. To finally let the tension disappear is an immense weight off of her shoulders.

The rest of the shower is as quiet as the start of it was, and that comfortable silence continues through from when they're drying off and redressing to when they hit the mattress in the spare bedroom with tired sighs.

After the day they had, the mere suggestion of sleep is enough to make them start yawning, so being able to slip beneath the sheets and rest their heads almost sings her to sleep instantly.

Their bodies are laying in the exact outlines of where they laid the night of the party, the only difference this time being their mindsets. This time around, they aren't holding themselves back from anything, and it's most evident in the little things. Like how she doesn't turn around to shield her face from him, instead laying with her head propped on the other end of his favorite pillow.

They're so close, their noses brush if they make any slight movements, and this would be enough for him to submit to the urge to drift into sleep if not for the fact that he feels her jolt when thunder rumbles loudly outside of the window.

Much like his own fears being pushed to the side amidst their desire for each other, her anxiety about the storm wasn't on her mind until they laid down to sleep.

She was so wrapped up in him and everything that happened between them that she didn't have the time to think again until now, until she hears the violent patter of rain against the roof and feels her stomach drop at the sound of the thunder. Suddenly, she's not the one reassuring him about his fearful reactions, it's the other way around.

His warm hand takes hers, snatching it up as though he's worried it'll disappear if he doesn't take it quickly enough, and she lets him. Her eyes flutter shut with the release of a slow, deep breath, and she lets the presence of his hand in hers bring her back to earth.

JJ asks into the darkness, "Can I take you out on a real date?" After a beat of silence, the comforting sound of his voice returns to her. "Not that this isn't fun, but I think you deserve a little more effort than John B's living room floor."

A short-lived chuckle escapes her—a win as far as he's concerned. It's difficult to lure her head from the clouds when she gets this way, and it isn't like he has much experience with calming her during these moments either, but that sounded good to him. It sounded like she wasn't thinking about the increased pace of her heart or the howling wind outside.

He was planning on asking anyway. However fitting of a first night together this was, he wants to take her out for real sometime soon. He doesn't have much money for it, like at all, but they can come up with something special together, even if it's similar to the same shit they usually do together. As long as it's time alone together, they don't necessarily care if it's a perfectly traditional first date.

The tip of his thumb rubs comforting circles onto the back of her hand in the brief time it takes her to respond, stroking the soft skin as if to tell her that everything's okay. It seems to say, I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you. And it might make her crazy, but she believes him. JJ could take her back out into the eye of the hurricane at this very moment and she'd still believe his unspoken promise of not letting her into harm's way.

"Of course," she says, then pauses, and the sound of her sleepy voice hardly reaches his ears when she speaks again, "...I'm sorry I avoided you for the past few days. I was scared to tell you how I felt but I shouldn't have left that morning."

The memory of waking up in his arms is fresh in the forefront of her mind, so much so that she can remember the way his breath felt where it exhaled in warm puffs onto her skin.

In the first few moments of consciousness, it was peaceful.

She laid awake for a minute or two to count his breaths and soak in the comfort of being cuddled up next to him, wishing she could stay there for hours. It wasn't until another moment passed that it clicked with her where she was and what was going on between them recently, and that was what prompted her to slip away from the bed to get ready for her day at work.

It was the second time in a row that she left him in that bed with nothing to wake up to but the cold absence of her body between the sheets he slept under, and he can't deny that it's part of why he holds onto her hand so tightly tonight. Even though she's promised him otherwise, he can't help but think she'll be gone by the time he wakes up. At this point, he's struggling to stay conscious. She can see those pretty eyes drooping more and more by the second, yet the hand holding hers doesn't loosen its grip.

He takes a deep breath and scoots closer to her, keeping his one hand in hers while the other arm drapes itself over her waist, and he can feel her relax into the touch.

"It's okay," he says.

It's easier for him to adjust to so much physical contact when he's the one initiating. He knows that's why she only reached out to hold his hand. If she had it her way, she would've already been cuddling with him as soon as they laid down, but he likes that she gives him the space to initiate it. In the ways it counts the most, she cares about him more than anyone else has.

The touch in itself is his way of accepting her apology. However, truth be told, he already forgave her for it before knowing his love was reciprocated could be a possibility.

Right when she's about to fall asleep, the screen door slamming open and shut with the wind on the back porch makes her whip her head around to look over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. It seems like every time he successfully distracts her from it, the storm finds new ways of reminding her of what's happening outside of the safety of the Chateau.

There's the sound of a barely audible, sharp inhale, then her whispering into the dark room as she looks at the closed door, "I can't believe I went out into that. What the fuck was I thinking?"

It's beginning to close in on her again; the sounds of the storm, the sense of being trapped no matter how safe they truly are, and the rising tidal wave of anxiety that picks up speed the more she tries to will it to stop. This is the part where she tries to relieve it in some way, usually by smoking weed to sleep or going to one of her parents so they can help her through it, but she can't help herself right now.

Debris was being picked and tossed around in the wind like it weighed nothing when she was out there, she could've been knocked into the marsh or struck by a piece of debris.

How could she be so stupid?

Not only could she have hurt herself, she could've hurt JJ knowing that he'd likely follow her out into the storm to bring her back inside, and the thought of him being hurt makes the tension in her chest heavier. Her breathing picks up speed, the anxiety starting to snowball out of control when—

"Hey, look at me," JJ says, reaching up to turn her head to face him, and she damn near crumbles in relief at feeling his hand cup her cheek. It doesn't make it all disappear, but it provides a momentary comfort that she doesn't take for granted. "You're safe here. You know damn well I'll do anything to protect you. I mean, shit, dude, if I have to go out there and tell that rain to fuck off, I will."

This draws out a laugh from her, chest stuttering with the happy sound through the tears glistening in her eyes, and he never wants to stop hearing it. His thumb swipes away the first teardrop that falls before it can slip over the apples of her cheeks. I'm Her quiet cries and shaky breaths continue for a while after the laughter disappears. For a second or two, he watches with his thumb still wiping her tears away and hopes that it'll be enough to comfort her, but it can't do it completely.

He pulls away from her to get up from the bed with an idea popping into his mind, but upon hearing her whine at the loss of contact with him, he pauses to say, "I'll be back quick, don't worry."

The remaining humorous side of her left wonders if he's actually gonna go tell the rain to fuck off, but he's just opening the bedroom door to trot out into the living room.

A candle burning on the coffee table illuminates the space for him, guiding him straight to the forgotten backpack she left slumped against the arm of the couch hours before their relationship was changed for the better. It takes him an instant to get there and back with the bag in hand, and he's digging through it for a second before climbing back into bed with her.

If anyone else rifled through her bag, sifted through her personal belongings, and dug her phone out of it, she'd probably be annoyed, but she never is with him. She's inherently protective of her things, but JJ can do whatever he wants and it has always been that way. It should've been the first warning of what was to come.

He pulls the sheet back over his body and scoots up close to her, trying to resist the urge to retreat at first when he maneuvers her to lay with her head on his shoulder. It should trigger the flight or fight response that often alarms in his head, but he's able to push it away.

She's so vulnerable right now, so gentle and in need of the warmth of another person that he isn't as intimidated. It's not that she couldn't hurt him if she wanted to right now, she could, but he knows her. He knows that the last thing she'd ever want to do is hurt him, so he has to remind himself of that and give himself the permission to enjoy the physical intimacy of her touch. The part of him that questions if he even deserves it can't reach him now, not when he's so focused on her.

"Thumb?" he asks with the phone held out expectantly.

The screen is less than two inches from her face, so she has to push it back slightly, but she flattens her thumb to the button without further hesitation.

When he unwraps the pair of headphones from around the palm of his hand and plugs them into the charging port, she realizes why he left in the first place.

When she was facing away from him, eyes shut and headphones in to distract herself with music earlier, he was stealing glances at her every so often. He tried to keep away from her for the most part. It was difficult though, especially knowing what she said about being jealous the night of the party and knowing how scared she was of the hurricane. He couldn't help but keep an eye on her, for both his own selfish needs and his worry for her.

He keeps an arm tucked around her, pressing her body into his while he pops one of the headphones into her ear and the other into his. The thing is, her eyes aren't trained on the screen like his are once he starts looking through her vast collection of not-so-legally acquired music for a song that suits both of their tastes, they're trained on him.

Their taste in music tends to diverge in certain ways and overlap in others, so there's always a fifty/fifty shot of him liking what she plays when she's the one picking the music. That is why he smiles to himself and halts the endless scrolling in its tracks to hover his thumb over one song.

He obviously heard it before she played it that one time, but it's different for him now. They were riding together in the backseat of the Twinkie on the way to the beach with John B, Kie, and Pope when they let her take her turn to play a song.

That's how it is with them, the driver goes first, then it goes to the front seat passenger, and so on and so on until they make their way back to the beginning of the rotation. It was her turn when she picked this song, and it could've been the song, or the sunset shining through the window, but he felt as though his heart exploded when he looked at her in the middle of it.

He remembers feeling confused, confused as to why he couldn't catch his breath and why he suddenly adored the song he only heard casually a couple of times.

It was her. It was everything about her. The soft hum of her voice murmuring the lyrics, too shy to actually sing them in the presence of anyone else, was too delicate for the others to appreciate over the sounds of the van. He heard it though. He clung to it and admired her, so unashamed in his staring that he didn't realize he was doing it. It wasn't until she noticed that he stopped.

"Do I still have ice cream on my face or something?"

Her fingers came up to wipe at the corner over her mouth, and the action sent him turning his attention away quicker than he knew he could move, pulling the lighter out of his pocket to fiddle with as he mumbled, "Yeah, but you got it off now."

The cheery melody of Just Like Heaven bursts out of each headphone into their ears.

How did he know? How is he constantly reading her mind without realizing it?

This was her first song on the couch that she couldn't stand to sit through without thinking, naturally, of him when confronted with the topic of love. Somehow, it's like he knew that, and instead of feeling exposed and scared he'll know her feelings like before, she feels loved.

She is never skipping this song again.

"Go to sleep," he murmurs, clicking the screen off and resting it on his stomach.

It takes him a short thirty seconds to fall into an easy, calm pattern of breathing that tells her he isn't asleep, but soon will be. But she's fighting her sleepiness to continue looking at him. His eyes are fluttered shut, hair messy on the pillow, and she'd want to reach up to kiss him if he weren't trying to fall asleep.

Instead, she settles for matching her quickened breaths to the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand and shuts her eyes along with him.

By the time the song reaches its end, she thinks he's asleep, but she still whispers, "Thank you," and feels his arm squeeze around her body in response.

The next songs fade into white noise at this point for her, drowning out the storm to the point where she begins to forget it's happening out there.

Maybe they can be each other's safe place when things get rough. After all, he handled this wonderfully considering his lack of experience with her anxiety and she never pushes him on his plethora of unsorted issues, even when she wants so badly to be the one to initiate the touch.

She never makes him think she pities him, or wants to "fix" him like so many partners with savior complexes who will never try to understand how it feels often do in these situations. With each other, maybe it doesn't have to be so complicated anymore, even when they have those inevitable arguments here or there.

The last thing he does before allowing himself to be dragged under is brush his lips on her forehead in a tender kiss. And when he eventually wakes to the rising sun shining through the windows in the aftermath of the violent hurricane, she's still there.

Tag List: @jjjmaybank, @its-simply-fanfiction, @naughtydild0swaggins.

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

can you please write an imagine for nigari?? he have a love/hate relationship with a girl where they throw shades to each other but they always have the other's back during games, and one day a guy flirts with her at the beach and he gets mad

I’d love to. Thanks for requesting! 😉

A Bullet Between The Eyes | Suguru Niragi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. OC’s)

Summary: Niragi and you have a bickering relationship with each other. One night a guy tries to buy you a drink, not noticing the psychotic man standing nearby.

Warning: a lot of swearing, smoking, violence, threatening

Word Count: 2.6k

*reader is female

Niragi gif credit

Music was blaring through the speakers at the highest volume possible and made your ears almost bleed. You swore you could feel the bass in your bones, shaking them against each other to the beat. You had become immune to the deafening dubstep music and the annoying yells of everyone in the large crowd. People were pushed up close and personal to one another, grinding against each other like a pack of horny animals. It made you sick.

You leant against the neon-lighted bar that was fixated about twenty metres from the dance floor. You watched as people pushed each other into the pool nearby as you took a large puff from your cigarette. You had never smoked before being thrown into this horrific world, but the stress and worry brought you to consider the damaging habit.

“Bunch of idiots,” you muttered angrily under your breath. “How the fuck are they having fun? Do they not realize their brutal fates are waiting to creep up on them?”

Your close friend Sara sat in the stool beside you. She glanced at you and then in the direction you were staring. “I mean, I guess that’s why they’re having fun. They only have such a short life ahead of them,” she responded, turning back to the bar and taking a swig of her drink.

“I mean to be honest Y/N, I’m surprised you’re not letting loose of your cold attitude and having fun,” Sara stated over her shoulder to you.

You broke your gaze from everyone else and looked at her from the side. “Why is that?” you asked, curious as to what she meant.

She looked at you and smirked. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve seen you,” she chuckled.

“Huh?”

“You and that militant. You’ve been getting awfully close to the psychopath. When did it all start?” she sneered.

You pulled a confused expression before realizing what she was referring to. “Oh you mean Niragi,” you said, “We just help each other out at games, it increases our chance of surviving.” You brushed off her accusation and took another puff of your cigarette.

“Sorry if I’m being nosy, but it’s just strange,” Sara assured. “In the months I’ve been here, I’ve never seen Niragi warm up to someone. He’s always remained the same unempathetic, abusive bastard that I’ve always known.”

You stared at her side profile, not being too sure what to say.

You wouldn’t say that you had a good relationship with Niragi, considering the fact that he really did know how to push your buttons. If anything he was your enemy. But for some reason when you two were placed into the same groups to complete a game, you work together and against the others.

It was like he completely changed his persona from a cold-hearted prick to an overly protective (still a prick) figure. It gave you whiplash at times.

You let out a small chuckle and smirked at Sara. “And how would working with Niragi make me want to go and dance more Sara?” you questioned, going back to the topic you started at.

Sara turned herself around fully and stared you down right in the eyes. “All I’m saying is, if you’re looking for a quick way to die, keep sticking around Niragi. You know how he is Y/N, and when he gets the chance, he’ll put a bullet between your eyes with that rifle of his.”

She stood up off her stool and strutted towards the pool with her drink in her hand, probably to have some fun herself, considering the games were beginning in the next couple of hours. No one knew which night would be their last.

Your eyes followed her figure as she walked away. “Huh, maybe she’s just jealous,” you muttered.

You turned around and leaned over the bar, asking the bartender to make you a drink. The blonde girl nodded and got to mixing it for you. You sat in the seat that Sara previously was and let out a big sigh. You honestly were getting tired of the constant parties every single night, it was starting to get old.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, your mind kept bringing you back to what Sara was saying about Niragi and you. Was it really getting that obvious? Were other people noticing?

The bartender slid the drink towards you and you thanked her. You lifted the cold drink to your lips and tipped your head back, taking a big amount into your body. You wanted to be at least slightly intoxicated when the games start. It always helped ease your anxiety.

As your head began to feel heavier and your limbs became a bit numb, you noticed that the usual warm chatter that surrounded the neon bar had dissolved, almost to silence. You were confused, whipping your head around to see the cause.

You felt your face drop into a scowl as you noticed the familiar face that you hated so much. Niragi’s black and white button up turned turquoise from the lighting, and his eyes which were a deep dark black as he peered around the bar looking for something. You locked eyes with the all too familiar rifle that hung on his shoulders effortlessly, obviously just there for show. 

You pointed that out to him one time which ended with your back against a hallway wall and the barrel of the rifle pressed harshly against your temple with Niragi’s disgusting spit in your eye. “You still think it’s for show?” he hissed.

He tried so desperately to get you to be scared of him at The Beach. Why in the hell did that brutal and bully personality of his fade at the games?

You swiveled back around in your seat, facing your back towards the frightening man.

‘Why can’t he just fuck off,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Why do I have to run into him everyday.’ It was becoming a bit suspicious, the amount of times you would catch Niragi around the corner of a room you’re in. He would always play it off as by chance but you’ve begun to think otherwise.

A hand slowly placed itself on your bare lower back and someone leaned in close to your ear. “Hey there sweetheart, I’ve been looking for you all night. A little birdie told me you would be here,” you heard Niragi purr into your ear.

You cringed at his sickening sweet tone and turned away from him. You could smell the slight tang of metallic blood on him. He’d probably ‘took care’ of someone some time earlier.

“What the fuck do you want Niragi,” you growled, not looking him in the eye. Niragi chuckled at your tone.

“That’s not a very nice hello. I thought you would’ve warmed up to me by now. You seem to put an awful lot of trust in me at games.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and pinched your earlobe gently between his thumb and index finger. You rolled your eyes into the back of your head in annoyance and slapped his hand away from your face.

“Piss off. If you’ve come here just to get on my nerves then you can beat it.” you spat at him harshly. He seemed taken back by your bold movements.

“Are you sure you want to speak to me that way? I might just leave you to die if you’re rude enough to me.” he snickered, keeping that smug smirk on his face that made you want to bash him over the head.

“So be it then, at least when I’m dead I won’t have to deal with your annoying ass.” You stuffed the rest of your cigarette into a tray on the table and stood up out of your seat to face the tall man head on.

He towered over you, that annoying and insolent smile never leaving his tanned face. Just his face alone created a rage in you that was indescribable.

“I don’t need some psychotic man with a machine gun to protect me Niragi. I am fine on my own. If anything, I could beat your cocky ass with my bare hands alone.”

“Well you seem awfully confident. Keep that same attitude when I have you cornered during a game, you might have to prove yourself right in order to survive.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s however you want to take it sweetie. A threat or a head-start.”

You frowned up at the man, not knowing how to respond. You walked back to the seat and grabbed your jacket that hung off it. “Have fun by yourself you prick. Why don’t you choose a fucking personality and stop switching between the two. You give me bloody whiplash.” You spat down at his feet, narrowly missing his shoe and marched away from him towards the pool to look for Sara.

You didn’t want to put up with his bullshit that night. You weren’t in the mood to start a verbal war with him, especially in front of everyone.

You found Sara sitting on the edge of the pool. There weren’t a lot of people around her, as everyone was either at the bar or on the dance floor.

You placed your hand gently on her shoulder and sat down next to her with your feet in the heated pool. It was a kind of awkward silence for a few moments before Sara spoke up.

“Sorry about before, I shouldn’t have assumed anything,” she started, looking into your eyes. “I understand that it must be hard for you, being the object of a psychotic man’s desires.” She said empathetically.

You appreciated her concern, as there were times where you were honestly scared for your life around Niragi. He really wasn’t the best person to be around, but you had already known that before you got closer with him. You never thought he would become as annoying and insistent as he had.

“I’m just worried about you. He’s a manipulative and untrustworthy person and I would hate to come back from a game one day to see your body with a bullet through your head.”

You stared into the water thinking about Sara’s words. “I know, I would hate that as well. I don’t trust him like that Sara. I would never put my own life in his hands, because I know he would hurt me with no remorse whatsoever.”

You both sat in silence for a bit with Sara leaning her head onto your shoulder. You wanted to spend this nice time together before leaving, just in case anything was to happen.

“I better go,” she announced after a while. She stood up and placed her hand on the top of your head. “Good luck Y/N. Make sure you don’t die out there. If anyone can survive, it’s you.”

You smiled at her words and looked up at her. “You too Sara. Love you.”

She said it back and then trudged off into the direction of the entrance to the hotel.

You wanted to be alone with your thoughts for a bit, but that didn’t last long when a tipsy young man with brown hair decided to plop himself right next to you, a little too close to just be friendly.

“Hey love! You’re looking awfully gorgeous tonight,” he beamed, placing an arm around your shoulder. You were taken back by his boldness, not knowing how to react.

“Oh, thanks I guess? I mean I’m dressed the same as I always am,” you said trying to keep the conversation light.

“Hmm really? Well I guess you’re just always gorgeous then,” he giggled and leaned closer to you.

You started to panic a little bit. This boy was a bit too flirty for his own good.

“Hey! Do you want to maybe come get a drink with me at the bar?” he asked in a cheery tone. You looked at him in shock and shook your head quickly. “No it’s fine really! I just had one so I don’t feel like another.” you insisted, laughing awkwardly.

“No really it’s fine! Actually you know what, I’ll grab it for you. You just wait here and I’ll be back soon,” he said with a big smile on his face. It seemed very contradicting to his pushy behaviour.

You started to get annoyed. “Please, it’s fine. I was just about to leave anyway,” you lied.

The young man still pushed. You found it quite pathetic really. Was he really that desperate?

Before you could even say anything else, you suddenly saw the man fly sideways and land in the pool. Your mouth fell open in shock and you watched as he came back to the surface gasping for air. “What the fuck? Who was that?!” he yelled out frustratingly. Everyone around the pool had gone silent to see what the commotion was.

You looked back to the side of the pool to see none other than Niragi himself who had a proud smile on his face. “It was me you little bitch.” The young man’s eyes widened in fear.

“Are you sure you want to go flirting around with a militant’s woman? You might just be looking to get your head blown off!” Niragi cackled psychotically. “Go find your own toy to play with.”

Niragi aimed his rifle towards the man and everyone surrounding the pool panicked and ducked down. The man screamed in fear and started yelling to do anything that might spare his life.

“My deepest apologies Niragi! I didn’t know she was with you! I promise I’ll stay away from her from now on!”

You felt somewhat belittled. How dare he apologize to Niragi but not you. You were the one that got harassed.

Niragi let out a giggle and pulled the trigger of his rifle. The deafening sound rang in your ears and you watched as the bullet narrowly missed the young man’s head by an inch, creating a splash in the water next to him.

Niragi kneeled down with an evil smile on his face and harshly gripped the boy by his hair to lift him closer to his face. “If you ever touch her again, I won’t hesitate to put multiple bullets between those annoying ass eyes of yours. You understand?” He growled.

“Yes! I understand sir! I promise!” the boy cried desperately.

Niragi let go of his hair and watched as he swam to the left of him to scramble out of the pool and sprint away from him towards the dance floor. Probably to hide among other people so if Niragi changed his mind about sparing him he would be harder to find.

You breathed heavily in shock, not believing what you just witnessed.

“What the fuck was that?!” you yelled at Niragi. He looked down at you with an emotionless expression.

“Huh?”

“That was so over dramatic! Niragi I don’t know if you know this, but we’re not together! We’re not even friends! You can’t go around threatening anyone who lays eyes on me!”

Niragi rolled his eyes and kneeled down to get closer to your face. “Look, that idiotic boy was just trying to get into your pants. He didn’t want anything else from you. I just did you a favor, you should be thanking me!” he exclaimed.

You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance. “I was very aware of that fact Niragi, but I had it under control!”

“Did you really Y/N? Because from the way you were shaking it didn’t seem like you did.”

You stared into his deep, evil eyes. For once, you actually felt small underneath his gaze.

“Whatever, I’m going back to my room.” You stood up from your position and scurried away from the scene. As much as you hated to admit it, you were partly grateful to Niragi from saving you from that situation. You would never admit it to him though. You just wish he didn’t do it with so much aggression.

“Would you like me to walk you back-”

“Niragi! Fuck off!”

Author’s Note: Sorry this one took a while anon. I really hope it’s what you wanted!

[pies-writes-and-more]

just friends

word count: 5,393

pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Fem!Reader

warnings: literally all fluff. maybe some swearing lol 

a/n: this literally was supposed to be a short fluffy drabble and turned into a full on fic haha. I wrote a lot of this while I was half asleep so please excuse any spelling mistakes haha. I hope you guys like it! 💕 gif below isn’t mind, creds to the original creator!

haikyuu masterlist

Your window was only open slightly, meant for allowing the cool air to flow in, while also aiding for a certain somebody’s quick escape if it came down to that.

The Fukurōdani Academy Group Summer Camp started tomorrow. Well. Today, if you count the fact that it was already 2AM.

It had originally been 11PM. 3 hours ago, Akaashi Keiji had crawled up the side of your house and tapped his knuckles ever so softly on your window. It had freaked you out for a second until he texted you “Lemme in”, to which you then moved to the window to greet him with a confused look.

“Akaashi, if my parents hear you-” you started, glancing over your shoulder and hoping they hadn’t somehow managed to get to your bedroom door without you noticing.

“Then stay quiet and help me in,” he shrugged, slowly plopping into your room and smiling down at you. “How’s your evening?”

You just stared at him, “Akaashi, it’s late!” You hissed as he crawled into your bed and got comfortable like he was meant to be there. “What’re you doing awake anyways? Don’t you have to be up early for your training camp?”

Akaashi just gave a hum and a nod, patting the other side of the bed he wasn’t currently occupying and giving you a smile. You rolled your eyes and tucked yourself in next to him. It didn’t matter that the two of you were slightly squished, if anything your bed actually felt comfier this way.

Without any more questions, you and Akaashi laid there for hours, whispering as the time ticked by. Your legs slowly tangled together under the sheets and you fit in his side as if you were made to be there.

“What’re you thinking about?” Akaashi asked suddenly, his voice coated with fatigue, eyes lazily opening to look over at you and your pensive expression. It had been so long between topics, you had actually started to think he had fallen asleep.

“What do you mean?” You smiled back at him, your fingers still tracing along the lines on his palm like you had been for the past 10 minutes.

“You’re too quiet to be not thinking. And you’re obviously not sleeping. So what’re you thinking about?” Akaashi explained, interlacing your hands together for a moment. Just to see how they fit.

“Why did you come?” You questioned after a moment, turning to really look him in the eyes this time. Akaashi had such a soft demeanour about him tonight, a gentleness that you hardly ever saw when he and Bokuto were getting up to their usual mischief. But he was always kind and sweet to you, always took a moment of his day to tuck your hair behind your ear, or pluck a piece of fluff off your shoulder. Always put his plans on pause to ask you about your day, texted you about life and school and plans for the future.

His future included nationals. Playing in front of crowds and cameras, screaming fans and loud cheers. His future included volleyball. But you always wondered if there was room for you in that future too.

Akaashi paused, watching your eyes and for a moment, you could’ve sworn he had looked at your lips, a flicker of something different crossing his eyes. “I needed to see you.”

He said it so casually. As if this was normal. As if it was normal for a guy to crawl into a girl’s bedroom and lay in her bed like they were already married.

“I see you practically every day when we’re at school,” you pointed out, brushing a piece of hair from his eyes and trying to determine what he was really thinking because lord knows you could never tell.

Akaashi just stared some more at you, eyes slowly blinking from exhaustion. “I’ll be busy the next few weeks. With volleyball. And I know you’ve got plans for the summer too. I just... wanted to see you before I got all busy. I wanted to just be here with you and pretend like i could come back here.”

“You could,” you added quickly, maybe a bit too quickly, because then he looked at you with surprise. “I like it when you come by,” you admitted to him quietly, sitting up slightly in your bed. “I’m going to miss you while you’re all busy this summer.”

“I can make time,” Akaashi said hurriedly, his teeth tugging on his lips as he sat up with you. “For you. I can make time.”

You look at him with a smile, his thumb grazing over your hand again as he interlaced your fingers together once more. The two of you sat there, both wanting to ask the hovering question that sat buried in your throats.

What are we?

We’re friends, you’d always insist to your friends.

But friends don’t come crawling into your room at the middle of the night to hold you and hold your hand.

We’re just friends, Akaashi had told the team before with flushed cheeks.

But no friend of Akaashi’s had ever made him so nervous, Bokuto pointed out. And friends don’t stare at each other across the room the way you two do.

What are we?

“You should go,” you pointed out as you felt the tensions rising, glancing at the clock. It was almost 3:30AM now. Maybe it was sleep exhaustion or maybe you were just tired of never knowing what you were to Akaashi, but you knew if you didn’t get him out of your room now, you might end up spilling your guts to him.

Had she felt me try to get the courage to confess? Akaashi wondered as he gathered his things, moving to leave from the window again. But not before he wrapped you up into another hug, pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Do friends give forehead kisses?

“I’ll miss you,” he stated as he started to climb out the window.

“It’s not like you’re going across the world,” you teased with an awkward sort of laugh. “I’ll come see you guys maybe. When you’re not too busy.”

It could’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to lighten up at this idea. He nodded and pulled his backpack off for a moment to pull a hoodie from it. “To keep you warm when I’m not around,” he told you as he handed it to you. So casual. Like this was just something friends do.

“T-Thanks,” you tried to hide your smile, tried to hide the fact that you wanted to squeal out like a little girl. You held onto the hoodie as he gave you another little wave and crawled out of your house. You held it tighter as he landed on the ground, looking up at you and smiling at you like you were his romantic interest.

Do friends look at each other like that?

When he disappeared from view, you held the hoodie to your chest, smiling as you smelt his cologne or body wash or whatever the hell it was that made Akaashi smell like Akaashi. You crawled back into bed after closing your window tightly and turning off the lights, still gripping onto the hoodie he had left with you.

Do friends miss each other almost immediately after they’re gone? A few days later and there was Akaashi crawling through your window again. You heard the knock on the glass and found him with a tired smile on his face.

“Are you just going to keep visiting me in the middle of the night?” You asked with a giggle, watching him flop into your bed and open his arms asking you to join him.

“I have to look at sweaty annoying boys all day. What’s wrong with seeing a pretty girl every now and then?” He asked as you crawled in. Do friends say things like that to each other?

“Aw it can’t be all that bad,” you insisted, avoiding his eyes as you tried to wave off the compliment. “Bokuto is rather nice to look at.”

Akaashi huffed a bit, tickling your sides briefly until you reminded him in a harsh whisper that your parents were asleep. “Stop thinking about another boy while I’m here with you,” he stuck his tongue out at you playfully.

“Sorry I’ll stick to thinking about them when you’re not around,” you teased, making him poke at your side some more.

Did friends get jealous that easily?

“Why did you come?” You asked him after a while, tracing soft lines with your finger tips down his cheek and jawline, as if carefully measuring out a masterpiece because that’s exactly what he was. “Is the training camp really that bad?”

“Nah it’s alright. It’s fun getting to play with some new teams. Bokuto gets all excited about showing off his skills,” Akaashi responded softly, his eyes closing slowly as the two of you spoke.

“Aren’t you sore? From all your games?”

“Extremely. I’m not going to feel my legs tomorrow that’s for sure.”

“You shouldn’t have walked all this way then, idiot. You’re going to tire out your legs even more.”

“It’s worth it if I get to see you,” his voice was so quiet you weren’t even sure he actually said it. You looked up at him and found his eyes open again, watching you as if gauging your reaction.

Did friends make you feel like your heart would beat out of your chest? Do friends walk all the way to your house in the middle of the night after exercising all day?

What are we?

You wanted to ask, the words forming at your lips. The question was begging to be answered, pleading at your vocal cords to produce some sort of sound.

But what if you were reading into things?

What if friends really do all the things you wondered about? What if you weren’t exactly friends but weren’t anything more either? What if Akaashi saw you as a placeholder. A warm body to be everything a girlfriend could be until he found someone actually worthy.

What if you really were just friends?

Akaashi left a few moments later, groaning softly as he stretched and giving you another exhausted smile as he insisted he’d be back some other time. He traded sweaters with you, pulling out a brand new one for you from his bag and taking the one he had left earlier.

“I’m okay with this one Akaashi, why are you giving me another?” You asked confusedly.

He shrugged and you could’ve sworn there was a blush on his cheeks, “Just cause.”

He wrapped you up in a hug, pressed another kiss to your forehead and slipped out the window. Then spent the whole walk back shaking his head at himself for not saying what he wanted to say.

“Because I like how my clothes smell like you after you wear them,” he spoke aloud into the quiet night. “Because I wanted a part of me to always be with you. Because I don’t want you thinking about Bokuto, I want you thinking about me. Because I wanted to walk all this way to tell you how I felt and I chickened out again.”

The reasons piled into his head and he angrily kicked at some rocks as he walked. Why was it so much easier to think of why when he walked away?

“Because I want to know what we are,” he whispered to himself, stopping his footsteps and staring at the sky for a moment before walking further from you.

More days passed and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed when you didn’t hear from Akaashi as much. He was busy. You were busy. Everyone was busy, you told yourself. It’s not like he forgot about you. Or that he decided to ghost you.

It’s not like he found someone else. It was a volleyball training camp, who could he have found?

You wanted to tell yourself that there wasn’t anyone else and even if there was, it’s not like you had a claim to him anyway. You and Akaashi were just friends.

But you still waited for him every night, looking out the window in hopes he’d come.

Finally you heard a little tap at your window, and there was Akaashi with another tired grin. He seemed like he was glowing more than usual. He seemed bigger, more toned under his jacket.

“I missed you,” you told him shyly and the two of you curled back under the sheets together again.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, pressing his lips briefly against your forehead. “I got all caught up in training and even after the day is gone, everyone still wants to practice. Even that blond boy from Karasuno seems like he’s getting into it.”

You smiled and nodded, thinking about the few texts that Akaashi seemed to get out to you when he wasn’t so busy, “I’m sure everyone’s training hard for Nationals.”

Akaashi nodded and smiled, shifting so he was lying on his back and staring at your ceiling, “It’s getting really close. We got to be the best we can be.”

“You’re already really good. But I know you guys will win it all,” you beamed up at him excitedly. It was one of your favourite things, watching them play. And these National games always came with such excitement.

“Only if you’re there cheering us on,” Akaashi glanced at you, as if he had asked if you were coming and waiting for you to confirm.

“Of course,” you nodded up at him. “I wanna watch my boys beat everyone! Wipe the floor with them!”

Akaashi smirked and held onto you a little tighter, fingers dancing along your skin gently.

Did friends send tingles up your spine when they touched you? Because you hadn’t noticed it with anyone else but him.

“I can’t stay long tonight, love,” he whispered to you softly after an hour of whispered conversations passed. “I told Bokuto I’d wake up early with him and get some more practice.”

You nodded understandingly, though your heart felt a little as he started to move, “After your camp, maybe we can start doing all those summer things you wanted to do. When you’re not practicing of course.”

Akaashi chuckled and nodded, “Sure. Ice cream, find a beach, go swimming, whoop your ass in a water balloon fight,” he listed off.

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder back as you insisted that he was definitely going to lose a water balloon fight.

His hands grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into another hug. This time a bit tighter, like he was scared you were fading away, “I’m sorry I can’t stay,” he murmured to you, pulling away slightly to look down at you. “But I promise I’ll come see you soon.”

Why did everything he say always seemed like something a boyfriend would say? Do friends say things like that?

“I know you’re busy, Akaashi, don’t worry,” you told him with a small shrug, staring at your hands nervously.

“Y/N...”

There was something in his tone... something so foreign. You looked up at him and saw nervousness in his eyes, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands.

“Yea?”

Akaashi cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes glancing between yours and your hands.

“I- We...” he started.

What are we?

Three words.

Or maybe he should ask what you wanted you two to be?

Is that too much? Is that too pushy?

What if you didn’t think there needed to be anything more to this relationship? What if he was overthinking it? What if this was just for fun and you really were into Bokuto?

“Are you okay, Akaashi?” You asked after a moment of him stuttering.

“Yeah... we’ll do all those things and more,” he finally managed out, his eyes avoiding yours more now. “Promise.”

You nodded slowly, wishing he would keep holding your hand as you two moved away from each other. He traded sweaters with you again, pressed another kiss to your forehead, and disappeared into the night.

You spent the night wondering what he had started saying. Why was he so nervous tonight? What was it about tonight that made him so awkward? You hadn’t seen Akaashi nervous in a lot of situations. He was always so calm, but not tonight for some reason. Could it be that he was nervous… just like you were? Could it actually be that you two were something other than just friends?

It was the last day of the summer training camp and the smell of cooking meat made Akaashi’s mouth water. He looked around him, carefully calculating exactly what kind of meats he wanted to grab off of the barbecues. He and Komi chatted with Tsukishima briefly about their baby Ace’s tantrums, Akaashi smirking to himself as he watched his idiotic best friend going around with Hinata, drooling over the lunch. 

“When Bokuto told me to swing by for lunch, this isn’t quite what I expected.”

There was a little lurch in Akaashi’s chest, hearing that voice. He swung around to see you standing there, Suzumeda giving you a little wave after she had shown you to where the team was. “Glad you could swing by! It’s not every day we get to hang out with Akaashi’s friend,” she snickered, a teasing tone in the way she said friend. 

You and Akaashi both just looked at her funny before turning back to each other, a smile on your face, “Did you miss me?”

Akaashi just gave you a little smirk, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you into a hug, “Obviously.” He smiled down at you. “Sorry, did you say Bokuto told you to come?” He asked suddenly, looking around to find a wide smiled owl looking Bokuto behind him.

“I just thought that you’d actually smile a bit if she came by!” Bokuto insisted with a laugh, hands on his hips all proud-like. “Good to see you, Y/N! Must be nice to come by and hang out with Akaashi huh?”

You smiled up at him and moved to pat his head affectionately, “Of course! But I like coming to see you too, Bokuto,” you teased.

Bokuto’s smirk seemed different this time as he gave Akaashi a wink, “Sure but there’s nothing wrong with being here solely for Akaashi so you two have some time together,” he grinn, poking your nose playfully.

Before you could ask him what he meant, questioning his word choices and teasing sort of tone, Bokuto got called across the field, eagerly grabbing a plate with the food.

“Are you hungry?” Akaashi asked, nodding towards the gloriously smelling food. You nodded but stayed at his side, finding the massive groups of boys a little daunting. “I’ll get you something then, you can stay around here.”

“Thank you,” you squeezed his arm gently and he just gave you one of those kind soft smiles before disappearing into the crowd.

“Come on! She’s super sweet, you’ll love her!” Suzumeda was saying, dragging a bunch of girls in your direction. You blinked in surprise, Shirofuku giving you a wave as she also made her way over.

“How you doing, Y/N?” Shirofuku wrapped her arms around you excitedly, squeezing you into a hug. “You should’ve come with us! You could’ve been a big help keeping these boys in line.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m not quite sure I could do what you guys do,” you insisted shyly, smiling at the other girls who were smiling at you. “Hiya! I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you offered to the new faces.

Soon, you met all the managers from the other schools and it didn’t take long for you all to be laughing and joking about the various attitudes and characters your teams all had.

“Aren’t you hungry, Y/N?” Kiyoko asked suddenly, noting the lack of food in your hand. “We have lots, and I’m sure some of these boys don’t need to have 7 helpings!”

You nodded and glanced behind your shoulder, finding Akaashi yelling at Bokuto for trying to steal all the meat. “Akaashi already said he’d grab me a plate. Figure it’s better than me getting lost in that group,” you pointed out and turned your eyes back to the girls. 

They were all sharing grins with each other, Suzumeda giggling, “Aren’t they adorable?”

You blinked in surprise as they laughed some more, tilting your head, “Who?”

“You!” Ōtaki laughed. “I don’t know Akaashi much but Shirofuku and Suzumeda told me you two really bring the best out of each other.”

You paused a bit more and the Fukurodani girls noted your hesitation, “Sorry, was it supposed to be a secret?” Shirofuku asked with wide eyes. “Leave it to Bokuto to go spilling everyone’s secrets!”

Your eyebrows furrowed more as you glanced between the girls, “I’m so confused. What secret?”

“That you and Akaashi were dating! We heard he snuck away between days here at the summer camp to go see you and that he finally confessed!” Suzumeda explained, her smile getting more and more stiff as you seemed more and more confused.

“Akaashi and I are just friends,” you insisted nervously, heart pounding against your chest. “W-Why would Bokuto tell people that?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, we didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that! I thought it was pretty obvious you two liked each other,” Kiyoko admitted, the rest of the girls apologizing profusely. You shook your hands in front of each other, insisting that it wasn’t their fault that Bokuto was being dumb again, your face heating up from embarrassment.

You wondered just how many other people Bokuto had been whispering this news to, but it didn’t take long for you to find out. You excused yourself from the girls, saying you were going to find Akaashi and your food, but really just feeling way too embarrassed to look them in the eye.

You met with a few Karasuno third years, Daichi grinning as he told you that Akaashi had mentioned you before and said nothing but good things.

“It’s really great to finally meet you!” Sugawara had chimed in. “Bokuto told us about your new relationship so congratulations! I have to say, Akaashi seems like he’s smiling more that you’re around.”

You quickly insisted to them as well that you and Akaashi were in fact not dating and that you weren’t quite sure why Bokuto had gone round telling otherwise. The third years apologized on their behalf, sheepishly walking back to their team as you excused yourself yet again.

Even some of the Furkurodani boys grinned at you and gave you a thumbs up, thanking you for making Akaashi smile every now and then. As much as you wanted to take credit for those smiles, you weren’t quite sure how to awkwardly tell them that you and their setter were just. friends.

Did Bokuto not realize that you and Akaashi were just friends? Why was he torturing you like this? It’s not like he didn’t know you were constantly staring at his best friend. You wanted to slip away, hide in a corner, because now it felt like everyone was looking at you differently. You were no longer just a friend of the Fukurodani boys, now you were Akaashi’s girlfriend. You wanted that title more than anything, but not like this. And what would he say when he found out? He’d probably kill Bokuto for insinuating that the two of you were dating because you two were just friends. Just. Friends. And nothing more.

You finally managed to find Akaashi, who was giving a weird look to some of the Karasuno boys, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “-who told you that?” He asked, a slight hint of surprise in his voice.

“Bokuto!” A small redhead grinned widely, catching your eye and his eyes widening, “Your boyfriend is so cool!” He yelled at you before stuffing his face with more food.

Akaashi whirled around to see you, both of you sharing a look of what the hell is going on? “I’m going to kill him,” he huffed as he walked over to you, handing you a plate of food. “I’m sorry I took so long but I piled enough on there for the two of us. But… everyone keeps asking me… questions.”

“About… us?” You asked slowly and he just shifted in his stance, nodding slowly. “Me too. Bokuto seems to have a big mouth for things that don’t exist.”

Don’t exist, the words rang in Akaashi’s head as he tried to remind himself that as much as he wanted, you two weren’t dating. He wasn’t sure why Bokuto had it in his mind that you were, or that he could go telling literally everyone around, but he would kill him first and ask questions later.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto yelled, as if he felt you two thinking about him and magically appeared behind you two. “How’s the happy couple!?”

“Bokuto, what did you do?” You groaned, not at all hungry anymore even though the food on the plate still smelled incredible.

“Do?” He asked, tilting his head as Akaashi groaned. “Why do you two look so stressed? It’s a BBQ!”

“Bokuto, you idiot. Why does everyone think we’re dating?” Akaashi asked him, flicking his upperclassman in the head. “What did you do?”

“Aren’t you?” Bokuto asked with a furrowed brow, looking between you two. “I thought all those nights Akaashi snuck away, I thought he finally got up the courage to tell you how he feels,” he told you, an oblivious and concerned look in his eyes. “Did he not tell you?”

“N-No,” you managed to get out, your face feeling hot again. What would it take to just forget all of this happened? To forget that Bokuto just insinuated that Akaashi has feelings for you? It had to be a lie right? Akaashi was going to insist that he didn’t have feelings for you and that you two were just friends. You didn’t want to hear it - you’d give anything to just slip away and forget this whole day ever happened. 

“Bokuto, I hadn’t told her yet,” Akaashi sighed instead, shaking his head. 

“You chickened out again?” Bokuto gaped, patting his friend’s shoulder in comfort. “It’s okay, I’m sure it’ll go great when you finally tell her!” He insisted, as if you weren’t standing right there.

“Tell me what?” You asked quietly, watching Akaashi’s somewhat strained expression. Why did he seem so nervous? What did Bokuto mean when he said Akaashi chickened out again? You didn’t want to believe that all of this meant what you thought it meant because getting your hopes up was terrifying. But you stared at him anyways, waiting for someone to explain to you like you were a child. 

Bokuto just grinned, looking between you two as if watching a film and waiting for the ending. “Go on, tell her!” Bokuto insisted to his friend, nudging him towards you.

Akaashi had a flush on his cheeks and he was starting to avoid your eyes. His weight shifted back and forth on his feet as he played with his fingers, sighing quietly, “I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone, Y/N,” he admitted softly.

Your heart was pounding in your ears. This couldn’t be happening now, could it? You were just friends, you were just friends, you were just friends. The words had been repeating in your head ever since Akaashi had first snuck into your room. You two were only friends - there was nothing more. You had to believe that. Because if there was something more, it meant leaving your heart open to be broken. What if he only liked you because you were available? What if he didn’t really see anything in you? What if he moved away after high school and the two of you drifted apart? Losing a friend hurts, but if you two took the next step and then you lost your friend and a lover? It would be devastating. 

“Stop overthinking,” Akaashi stated after a moment, his eyes finally catching yours and seeing that telltale sign that you were spiraling mentally. He took the plate from your hands, setting it on a nearby table so you weren’t holding it for forever. “I like you. I’ve always liked you. I wanted to tell you that night before the summer camp. And every other time that I came to see you. I’ve been wanting to tell you since that day we spent at the park and you kept picking flowers for me. You don’t make me feel like I need to be anything more than me.” Akaashi swallowed hard as he watched your eyes, feeling a little light headed as the words spilled from his lips. “I know we’re friends. But I don’t want to be just friends anymore, Y/N…”

“You don’t?” You asked softly, biting down on your inner cheek nervously. Was this really happening? Your hands were trembling at your sides, looking up at Akaashi like everyone else had disappeared (though you could still feel Bokuto squirming and squealing beside you, watching the interaction). 

Akaashi just gave you that same smile he always did, taking one of your hands and giving it a squeeze, “I’m tired of always telling people that we’re just friends. I don’t want just any friend in my sweaters and I don’t go climbing into people’s rooms in the middle of the night just because they’re a friend.”

“You did what?” Bokuto gasped, eyes widening but immediately shushing when Akaashi sent him a little glare for interrupting. 

Akaashi took another breath and just shook his head slightly, “I want us to be more than friends, Y/N. So maybe if you’re okay with it, we can start telling people that Bokuto isn’t a liar and that… you are my girlfriend?”

You looked around the space, expecting the sky to be falling or some imaginary creature to randomly show up. Because this had to be a dream right?

“You’re not dreaming, dummy,” Akaashi laughed, seeing the panic in your eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. But I needed this off my chest,” he explained, starting to let go of your hand. You watched as a flash of disappointment crossed his eyes before you grabbed his hand again, squeezing.

“Of course I want to,” you breathed out shakily. “I just… always thought you wanted to be just friends. But I’ve always wanted something more with you.”

Akaashi’s face broke out into the biggest grin you’d ever seen before, pulling you into a tighter hug than he’s ever given you before, actually forcing a breath from your lungs.

“Don’t kill her before your first date!” Bokuto screeched, trying to pry Akaashi’s arms from around you. “God, that took you guys forever! I gotta go tell everyone that I’m not a liar now!” Bokuto beamed, rushing away from the new couple to shout it from the top of his lungs that his best friend finally had a girlfriend.

Akaashi laughed a bit and shook his head, watching his idiotic friend bounce around. “You should eat,” he pointed out after your hug was interrupted by the sound of your stomach growling.

You nodded and smiled up at him, “Only if you eat with me.”

“Of course. Can’t leave my girlfriend to eat on her own now, can I?” He teased, a smile on his face as he realized how easy and natural it seemed to call you that. The two of you walked around before finding a spot to eat, mingling with those around you.

You watched as Akaashi talked to people, so calm and almost unaffected by everything that just happened. But then he’d look at you with a smile, open his mouth for you to feed him and take your hand in his, and you felt like you were falling for him all over again. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself later thinking about how many people you were going to have to hear “I KNEW IT” from. Because maybe you and Akaashi were just a little bit more than friends.

Okay fine, a lot more.

haikyuu taglist:

@al0ehas​ @aurumk​ @neko-chii1​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​ @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @trashy-simp​ @jeppiet​ @tobi-momo​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @livy384​ @babyshoyo​ @jesssobs​ @b-bakana​

[theweasleysredhair]

Distracted [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 2628

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Fred Weasley is hot and boy, does he know it.

WARNINGS: it’s a lil spicy, read with caution. a couple of saucy comments, just the usual with fred idk.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i am really feeling fred atm, so here’s an extremely self-indulgent freddie thirst fic for all my lovelies who are also irrevocably in love with him - enjoy!

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Fred Weasley knew just how to get under your skin. It was a skill he had, a talent of knowing exactly what to do to get you hot and bothered, especially when you weren’t expecting it. It was especially frustrating when you couldn’t do anything about it, considering you were stuck in limbo between being friends and being more, and whilst you liked the lingering stares and longing touches, you couldn’t help but want more with him.

You had hoped he would’ve asked you to the Yule Ball last year - in fact, everyone was insistent that he would - but then he’d asked Angelina instead, which was hard to watch - George had laughed with his brother, but had grabbed your hand under the table in comfort - and made you doubt Fred actually returned your feelings at all.

Despite this, you’d actually ended up going to the ball with an extremely cute Durmstrang boy yourself, so you weren’t completely complaining, and of course, Fred had actually ended the night with you in his arms, dancing to the musical stylings of The Weird Sisters. It was also the night of your first - and only - kiss with Fred, under the stars in the Courtyard, in front of the fountain.

It was perfect, and you thought maybe things would change between you, maybe you’d be more, however when he didn’t act any different, never mentioned it again, you decided to keep quiet about it too.

In fact, you’d been pretty good at keeping your feelings under wrap since then. Of course, everyone knew how you felt - or at the very least, suspected - but no one said a word (besides Hermione, who you’d confessed everything to after she’d asked about it, knowing she wouldn’t say a word but also that she wouldn’t stop asking until she knew the truth).

And you were fine. Everything was fine. Until you got invited to the Burrow a few weeks before summer ended, and when you’d arrived after a month or so of not seeing Fred, you’d felt winded at his first smile of greeting, and felt your heart beating out of your chest when he’d pulled you into a hug, holding you against him as you buried your face into the jumper he was wearing at the time.

His hair had been cut since you’d last seen him on the Hogwarts Express, and whilst you’d liked the long hair - had enjoyed the way it had felt as you ran your hands through it that one time you’d kissed him - you couldn’t help how attracted you were to him with shorter hair, constantly feeling the urge to tug at it whenever you saw him.

He looked especially good when his hair was all tousled, windswept - exactly like it was as you watched him sitting on his broomstick outside as he waited for his siblings to be ready to play a last practise game of Quidditch before you’d all be leaving for 12 Grimmauld Place before the school year started back up again.

You were sat at a table in the kitchen underneath the large window overlooking the garden, giving you a perfect view of the sunshine and your friends playing Quidditch. Also a perfect view of Fred wearing a tight t shirt, holding his beater’s bat behind his neck, resting it on his shoulder blades as he showed off his biceps and laughed as Ron nearly fell off his broom due to a particularly sharp dig from Ginny’s elbow.

They’d asked if you or Hermione wanted to join, however you knew you wouldn’t be much use playing Quidditch when Fred was being as distracting as his was, and besides, you had a Herbology project to work on. Hermione had also elected not to play, not having much of an interest in playing Quidditch, and instead resided in her room with a book she’d borrowed from Molly.

You glanced out of the window as the boys flew up on their broomsticks, letting the quaffle, snitch and bludgers fly out, immediately beginning to play. You’d always loved watching Quidditch at Hogwarts, cheering for your house and the excitement and thrills that came with it. There was always an added element when you knew that Fred was playing too.

He was a good beater - possibly the best in Hogwarts, tied with George - his actions fluid as he flew around the air with ease, practicing new strategies and working on his skills after a school year of being unable to play due to the Triwizard Tournament taking over.

You watched his arms clench as he hit the bludgers away, his hands grasping the bat in a way you wanted him to grasp you. Something about the way he flew around and hit the bludgers so easily made you sigh contently as you set your quill to one side, forgetting about your project.

The exercise coupled with the midday August heat meant practise didn’t last too long - much to your dismay - but enough to make Fred sweaty, clearly breathing heavily as he jumped off his broom and grabbed a water of bottle he’d discarded to one side before playing.

He downed nearly half the bottle, before wafting his t shirt a little to cool himself down, then suddenly, as if someone had taken one of your daydreams and brought it to life, he lifted the bottle and tipped it over his head, the water cascading down his hair and face.

You watched as if it were in slow motion, the water drenching his already tight-fitting t shirt, the fabric clinging to the outline of his abs as he closed his eyes and let the water cool him down.

His biceps clenched as he brought his arm back down again, and you were once again brought to the attention of his hands gripping the bottle, gaze following along his forearms as you stared at the veins protruding.

Your mouth dropped a little, heart pounding as you watched water droplets fall down his face and collarbone, as he opened his eyes and ran a hand through his now wet hair sticking to his forehead, trying to mess it up a little more.

He then pulled up the bottom of his t shirt to wring out the excess water, exposing his abdomen and suddenly you forgot how to function, barely being able to breathe as you took in the sight.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked as she entered the kitchen and wandered by your table, noticing your faraway look and the fact you hadn’t actually started your project yet. She grabbed some leftover food from the counter and turned to look at you.

“Fred Weasley is what’s wrong,” you grumbled, turning away from watching him reluctantly, “He’s infuriating... ly good looking.”

Hermione shook her head with a soft smile, “I really don’t know what you see in him.”

Thoughts of Fred wearing a wet t shirt danced through your mind as you swallowed harshly. “I don’t know either,” you lied.

“Well, let me know if you want any help with your project - I’ve finished mine,” Hermione offered as she headed out of the kitchen. You called out a “Thank you!” to her retreating form as your attention was pulled back to the eldest twin outside.

He was laughing at something someone had said, before he began making his way towards the back door, which so happened to be near where you were sitting.

Your heart was pounding as he entered the room, you averting your gaze from him as you pretended you were looking at anything but him.

“Like what you saw?” His voice suddenly rang out through the room. You looked over at him - it taking all your effort to not stare at the way his shirt was clinging to him - and cleared your throat, blinking up at him innocently.

“Excuse me?”

“Noticed you watching me outside, especially at the end. Darling, do you find me pouring water down myself attractive?” Fred replied with a cheeky grin shot in your direction, before heading over to a high cabinet and grabbing a glass out, filling it from the tap.

“I didn’t even notice,” you shook your head adamantly, sneakily staring at the way his drenched t shirt accentuated the way the muscles in his back moved.

Fred’s smug expression as he turned around told you he didn’t believe you in the slightest, “Are you sure? Because it definitely seemed like you were enjoying the view.”

“Don’t be daft, I’ve been here working on my Herbology project,” you gestured to the parchment in front of you, gulping as you realised you still hadn’t actually written a word down, much less even opened your textbook.

Fred smirked as he noticed this, bringing his glass of water to his lips slowly as he took a sip, “You do realise windows work two ways, right love?”

And indeed, this had been a fact you’d forgotten, in your distracted haze. You felt your heart beating faster as you hoped - prayed - he was just playing around and didn’t actually look up to see you ogling him from the window. How embarrassing.

“I am aware of that, yes,” you nearly stuttered, hoping you came across nonchalantly but knowing by the grin widening on his face that you’d failed.

“So you know I could see you checking me out, right? All your staring,“ he teased, running a hand through his wet hair and making you forget where you were for a moment.

“I wasn’t staring at you,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “I was staring at George.”

“Oh yeah? If that’s true, what colour shirt was George wearing?”

You knew he knew he had you with that, as your mind went blank. Because truthfully, the only person you’d been staring at was, in fact, Fred, and you hated that he was extremely aware of that.

“Green?” You guessed, hoping your guess was miraculously correct. Watching as Fred grinned at you knowingly, you knew immediately you’d gotten it wrong.

“Red,” he corrected and you sighed helplessly.

You stood up to face him properly, pushing your hair back out of your face as you looked up at him. Fred’s eyes travelled down your frame for a few seconds, him absent-mindedly biting his lip at the sight of you.

He blinked, taking in the sight of you wearing denim shorts, fitted to your thighs - thighs he wanted wrapped around him - and his breath caught in his throat as he realised the light coloured shirt you were wearing, knotted at your waist and showing a slither of your stomach, was in fact his.

He found himself distracted, vaguely aware that you were speaking to - or rather, ranting at - him, as he stared at you, before zoning back in just as he heard you say, “I mean, what would you do if I suddenly grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over me?”

Images began flying through his head. There were a lot of things he would do, most of which involved him pressed against you and his hands all over you, preferably with you moaning his name.

“Maybe you should do it and find out,” he said completely seriously, wanting nothing more than to watch as you poured water down yourself.

You rolled your eyes, albeit feeling a tad flustered, “Can you just... change your shirt please.”

“Why, is something distracting you, love?” He asked almost innocently, tilting his head to one side - almost as if in concern, however his cocky grin told you that he knew exactly what he was doing.

You gulped, not being able to stop your eyes from wandering down to his clenched abs, covered by the wet material of his t shirt yet not leaving much to the imagination. He, of course, noticed this and saw an opportunity to tease you even more.

“Well, if you really want me out of this shirt...” he sighed playfully and shook his head with a smile, before placing his glass down and grabbing the bottom of his shirt, and pulling it - slowly - off of him.

You watched as the fabric pulled from his skin, knowing he was doing it on purpose yet not being able to turn away, your mouth dropping a little as he exposed his toned torso, shorts hanging low on his hips.

You felt your mouth go dry, eyes widening a little, both mentally cursing and proposing to him just from this sight alone.

He pulled the shirt over his head and ran a hand through his hair again, and you fought the urge to dramatically collapse back into the chair behind you as he smirked at you.

This boy was going to be the death of you.

“Fred,” you spoke warningly, forcing yourself to look back up to his eyes - which, unfortunately for you, were just as distracting.

“Y/n,” he replied with a cheeky grin, leaning back against the counter, his hands gripping onto the counter sides, making the veins in his forearms pop out, and you swore you lost the ability to breathe in that moment.

“I mean it.”

“What? I’m not doing anything,” he pretended to be innocent, “It’s too hot to wear a t shirt at the moment.”

“You’re too hot,” you mumbled under your breath, then cleared your throat, hoping he didn’t quite catch what you said. When he didn’t react, you assumed he hadn’t and continued on, “You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re insufferable.”

Fred stepped closer to you, enjoying the way your breath hitched as his hand reached out to hold your waist. He then leant forward, his face centimetres from yours, a smirk gracing his lips as his tongue darted out across his bottom lip, “You know you love me.”

“Oh do I now?” You moved a little closer, looking up into his eyes as he moved his lips subconsciously towards yours. “Yeah,” he confirmed, nodding a little, eyes half-lidded, “You do.”

He paused for a moment, his free hand reaching to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as he cupped your jaw, “And I love you.”

“Do you?” You whispered as his lips brushed against yours gently.

“Course I do,” he mumbled, looking at you softly before pressing his lips properly against yours, the hand on your waist squeezing a little before moving to rest against the small of your back, pushing you towards him to ensure there was no space left between you.

His lips moved against yours roughly, his tongue licking into your mouth as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down towards you. His hands guided themselves to hold the back of your thighs, just under your bum, and you only just heard the “Jump.” that he’d muttered against you, before you did as he said.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and he sat you on the table beside your long-forgotten project, him leaning you back on said table ever so slightly as he gripped your hips. One of your hands moved to lay flat on his bare chest, the other running through his still-damp hair and tugging a little just as you’d imagined.

He pulled away, breathing heavily as he continued to press kisses to your lips, moving down your jaw and towards your neck.

“Still want me to put a shirt back on?” He grinned against your skin. “Nah,” you bit your lip as he kissed just under your ear, before moving to grab his hands in yours, jumping off the table and pulling him towards the stairs, aiming to head towards his bedroom,

“I’d rather just take mine off instead.”

[svnriseblvdd]

Stargazing | Regulus Black

Author: @svnriseblvdd

Words: 1,948

Warnings: none

Summary: In which you love Astronomy, but can't grasp it for the life of you, so your best friend offers to help while the two of you battle feelings on an unintentionally romantic evening.

GIF NOT MINE!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No matter how much you tried, you'd never excelled in Astronomy. Perhaps because it was the middle of the night and you didn't function in the way the lesson required at such an hour. You wanted to be good at it, you wanted to process what you needed for the lesson. It just didn't work that way.

Your best friend, however, was most successful in Astronomy. He understood the planets and the stars in a way you never could. He was, after all, named after one.

He may also have been one of the reasons you found it so difficult to excel in the lesson. It was much too difficult to focus completely on the information when someone so unbelievable, unfairly, handsome was sat just next to you, practically glowing with handsomeness in the light of the moon and stars.

Even now, as you sat trying to study for the subject, you couldn't stop your eyes from wandering over to the absolutely gorgeous specimen who was your very best friend. You'd had a crush on him as long as you could remember. The day you met was the day you wrote home and declared proudly to your parents that you'd found your soulmate, and the search was over.

You dropped your hands into your book with a sigh. "It's just really unfair, because I love the class, I'm just horrible at it. If it wasn't at midnight, I'd be fine."

"Yes, but stars and planets are pretty much only visible at night. Midnight is the best time to see them all," Regulus pointed out.

"How do you succeed so well in it?" You inquired.

"Natural talent." He shrugged.

"Could you pass some of that onto me?"

"That's not how it works," he chuckled.

You sighed, placing your head in the pages of the book too. "Well, you're intelligent. Make it work that way."

"Thank you, but I'm not quite that gifted." He reached over placing a hand atop yours. You lifted your head slightly, meeting his eyes. "Would you like to see them?"

"The stars?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, the trees. Of course the stars, Merlin's beard, Y/N."

"Give me a break, I'm tired."

"Okay, maybe tomorrow night then, alright?"

"Yeah. Okay."

He smiled, tapping his fingers against your own. "We'll have to sneak out, you know that, right?"

"Ooh, Regulus Black, sneaking out? What have I done to you?"

"You have corrupted me, cruel, cruel woman."

"No, you were too easy to corrupt. You were so innocent. You made it so difficult to resist."

"I'm glad you find me so irresistible."

"That's Sirius' doing, that is. That sweet talk. If I didn't know any better, I'd believe you truly were flirting."

Regulus cleared his throat, eyebrows furrowing. "We should carry on studying. The runes aren't going to learn themselves."

You frowned. The subject change was so quick, too quick. "Yeah. Of course." You looked up at him as his eyes fell back to his ancient runes dictionary. He was trying to ignore the feel of your stare upon him, it was obvious.

~~~

The next morning, you walked into the Great Hall, and looked around. You spotted the Marauders, and made your way over to them, sitting on the bench by Sirius. "Ah, Y/L/N. Surprised to see you away from my brother," he commented.

"Whatever. I need your advice." Sirius smiled smugly. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Sirius. This one time. That's it. Besides, it's on something I'd consider you lot an expert on. Probably the only thing I consider any of you an expert in, really. I need tips for sneaking out and avoiding Filch and that blasted cat."

"Why do you need tips on sneaking out?" James asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"Regulus and I are going stargazing tonight," you replied. "I need to know how to avoid being caught."

"You're going stargazing with my brother?" Sirius inquired. "That's a bit romantic isn't it?"

You frowned. "I wouldn't say so. Besides, one of the Black brothers has to be romantic. You certainly aren't holding to that with your constant flirting with everyone."

"Right. Anyways, onto your tips."

~~~

Sirius grinned as he sat down in the library, facing his brother. "So, I hear you're taking the lovely Miss Y/L/N out on a date."

Regulus looked up from his book for a split second, rolling his eyes, before returning his gaze to the pages and mumbling, "It's not a date."

"Really? Just a platonic evening looking up at the stars while she cuddles up to you because it's cold and she couldn't find her jacket - you're welcome in advance, by the way - and you're sounding all smart while you list off everything you know about planets and stars, and then you can watch the sun rise together, or fall asleep together right there, and you'll get all those butterflies because you love her more than words can describe."

"Piss off, Sirius. She just wants to know about the stars and planets."

"You know she loves you too, right?" Sirius noticed his brother freeze, before shaking his head and proceeding to ignore him. "Honestly, Reg. She does. She's just a lot better at hiding it than you."

"I'm not obvious," Regulus muttered, and Sirius grinned.

"Finally! I've been trying for the past two years to get you to admit it!"

Madam Pince hushed him loudly, and he glared back at her, before turning back to his younger brother. "If you knew, then you didn't need to keep bothering me."

"Whatever. Just promise me you won't let tonight pass. It's a chance, and you better take it, because you might not get another one." And with that, Sirius stood and left the library.

~~~

That evening, you sat wide awake, waiting for the rest of the girls in your dormitory to fall asleep. When finally the last of them had fallen asleep, you left the dormitory, finding Regulus already waiting in the common room, sat on the sofa. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry. Rosier wouldn't fall asleep."

"Well come on. If we don't hurry we won't make good time," Regulus said, standing and beginning to walk out of the room.

"I couldn't find my jacket, I hope it's not too cold." You smiled at Regulus, taking his hand, and leading him from the common room, all the way up to the Astronomy Tower. "It's a little chilly, but not so bad, I'll be fine."

You stood with Regulus at the railings, watching the sky. "Up there," he said, pointing to the sky ahead. "Jupiter. Do you see it?"

"The shining dot that's a bit bigger than the other shining dots?"

He chuckled. "Yes, that's it. The shining dots are stars, by the way."

"Yes, but some of them are planets, aren't they?"

"The bigger ones are, yes." He looked around. "Aha, we need to face North, there's a constellation for you to see." He moved you around to face the North, pointing. "There, the stars form a sort of shape. That's Ursa Major. The Great Bear."

"Constellations have stories behind them, don't they?" You asked, meeting Regulus' eyes. He nodded in reply. "What's Ursa Major's story, then?"

"In Greek mythology, the Great Bear is Castillo. Zeus fell in love with her and his wife Hera turned Castillo into a bear out of jealousy. Castillo was nearly shot by her son Arcas when he was out hunting in the forest. Zeus turned Arcas into a bear and both he and Castillo were sent to the heavens. Arcas is Ursa Minor, who's over there." He pointed up at a smaller, somewhat similarly-shaped constellation. "The tip of his tail is Polaris, the North Star."

The night went on, with Regulus pointing out planets and constellations, telling you the story behind as many of them as he could. "Where's your star?" You asked as he finished telling you about Canis Major, whose nose star was named 'Sirius' and how he was one of Orion's hunting dogs, and was chasing the hare, which was set just in front of him.

"I'm in the Leo constellation, which is just over..." He searched around, finally finding it and pointing. "There. Regulus is the brightest star, can you see it?"

"I see it."

"Regulus means little king."

"I know. Sirius told me. He said his means scorching, and went on to tell me that that's probably why he turned out so hot," you chuckled.

"That sound exactly like him."

You smiled, leaning into Regulus. "I'm cold."

"We can go back to the common room, if you want."

"No, I'm enjoying this. I want to stay up here. I'd stay up here forever with you, even if it meant developing hypothermia," you told him. You wanted to savour the moment, you couldn't let it end just yet.

Regulus, meanwhile, was freaking out. His exterior appearance stayed calm and collected, but within, he was panicking. You were so close to him. He could smell your shampoo and your perfume, and you looked gorgeous, and he wasn't sure what to do. This was not his area of expertise. Sirius was the one who was good with people. Girls especially. What if Sirius what right? What if he wasn't going to get another chance? He had to take this one. But first, he needed the courage to do so. That was another reason Sirius was so good at this. Confidence and courage, both things Regulus lacked right now.

"Y/N, I..." He cleared his throat, feeling you shift to look at him.

"Yes?"

"I'm, um... For... Oh Merlin. I-"

But you cut him off. "Look, look! The sun's coming up! Wow, have we really been out so long?" You stared as the golden rays peeked above the horizon, beginning to shine across the highlands, and the school grounds, shining around you. Regulus watched the glow that you emitted as the sun hit you with streams of gold. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is." Your grin meant the world to him, your happiness was contagious, and he could hardly keep himself together as he melted at the sight, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I love you."

You turned back to him, brows furrowed. "What?"

"I, um... I love you."

"Well I love you too, silly. Of course I do."

"No, no, not like that. I mean I'm in love with you. I've loved you since first year, the moment we met, I knew I was going to love you for the rest of my life, and I've never stopped loving you since that day. I love you so much it hurts to keep it in. I know this is going to ruin our friendship, but I couldn't keep it in any longer, and I don't want this to drive you away, but I can't continue only being friends."

"Regulus," you breathed out. "I love you too. More than anything and anyone."

"Really?"

"Yes! Of course! I've been waiting for years to hear you say that."

Regulus met your eyes. "Can I, um..."

"Yes." He leaned forwards, kissing you deeply. His hands gripped at your waist as yours slipped into his hair. You couldn't wipe the smile off your face, and Regulus couldn't slow his heart rate. As you pulled away from him, the two of you smiled. "We should probably get out of here before someone catches us."

Needless to say, when you walked into the Great Hall the next morning and sat at the table, the moment you gave Regulus a quick kiss was the moment the entirety of Hogwarts' students and staff heard Sirius Black squeal for the very first time.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I'm Yours, You're Mine | 7

Word Count: 4k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!felix, sub!reader, dom!reader, mentions of violence, character death, drugging, noncon, breeding kink, binding, doggy

GIF CREDIT @christopherbanq

You wake up in a warm embrace, surrounded by the sweet, vanilla scent of Felix. Opening your eyes, you’re met with the splatter of his freckles that seem to glow under the sunlight. Everything feels perfect. It feels right, and you wish you could stay in this moment forever, protected from all that has happened or will happen. But you can’t, the memories of last night’s darkness creep around the corners of the brightly lit room, seeping the warmth out of it until everything is plunged into darkness.

Felix opens his eyes, his bright sparkling eyes, unaware of the darkness surrounding him, his ignorance protecting him. But his light diminishes as his gaze focuses on you.

“Noona, why are you crying?” He asks, arms pulling you even closer to him to the point where you don’t know where your skin ends and his begins.

“Chan…” You sputter, little sobs rattling your chest now. Felix frowns sharply, “Did he do something to you?”

You shake your head, your tears now flowing down your cheeks. “He’s in the hospital. Someone attacked us while we were coming back from the cinema yesterday.”

Felix bolts upright, pushing you at an arm’s length and scrutinizing every inch of your body. “Are you hurt?”

“No, but Chan is.” You wail, throwing your arms around him and burying your face in his shoulder. “He’s hurt really bad.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” For the first time, Felix doesn’t comfort you, his body rigid in your embrace and you hesitantly pull back to look at him. He is completely still, a numb look on his face. And you suddenly realize how thoughtless you’ve been. Despite their fight, Felix and Chan have been best friends for years, way before you met either of them. You should’ve told him as soon as it happened.

“Is he going to be okay?” His lips quiver as he speaks, his eyes terrified and looking through yours for help, and you could smack yourself for being so selfish.

“Oh, baby.” You breathe, pulling him into your embrace again. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

_______________________

He wasn’t.

Chan hasn’t woken up by the time you both visit him in the hospital, and the doctors were giving you vague responses every time you tried to ask about his condition--if he’s going to be okay, if he’s even gonna make it--and that petrifies you.

“We’re doing the best we can, but I can’t say anything for certain. He’s in a really bad condition.” The doctor informs you after you’d asked for the millionth time. You nod heavily and he lets you know that he’ll be there if there is anything else you need before he leaves. Yeah, right. The doctors were basically running from you at this point. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it meant.

“Thank you, doctor.” You mumble. You feel guilty, like this is all your fault for wishing for Felix to come back, like somehow this had been a bargain by a cruel god, giving you Felix back but taking Chan away.

As soon as the doctor leaves, Felix falls to the floor beside the bed sobbing. You run to him and wrap your arms around him and he immediately leans into your touch. “I did this.” He wails and your body goes stiff, your breath stuck in your throat, choking you.

But then he continues, “I wished for this the night he threw me out. I was so angry at him, but I never wanted it to really happen.”

Your body turns to jelly, the fear that had gripped it was so intense that it left no energy in its wake, and you can’t even caress Felix’s back to comfort him.

_______________________

The police interview you over and over, asking you to remember if there is something about the man who mugged you that you’re forgetting that could help identify him. You don’t have to force yourself to remember, you see him in your dreams every night, and every night you wake up screaming, poor Felix having to comfort you and kiss you back to sleep, never once complaining.

Through it all, those few agonizing days, you held a terrible secret close to your chest. You felt wretched just thinking about it, but you couldn’t help it. You knew he was going to die anyway. You just wished it would happen sooner than later so you could properly grieve instead of being stuck in this fake limbo, pretending like you think he’s going to make it, even to Felix, so that he wouldn’t completely break down.

You go to visit him less and less until you stop completely, which doesn’t paint you in a very favorable light in front of law enforcement or the doctors, letting Felix go on his own to the hospital every day. But fuck them. What do they know about the pain you’re going through? The guilt?

When it finally happens, you can’t believe it. They say he coded in the night and they tried to do everything to save him, even brought him back a couple of times, but it was ultimately useless. He was gone.

You had to see him for yourself to believe it. You went alone. Felix couldn’t bear to look at his best friend’s now dead body. He begged you not to go but you needed to.

As you gaze across his face, you’re thrust back to that night. You had heard that dead people often have a peaceful look on their face, but Chan didn’t look peaceful. It almost looks angry, accusatory, asking you why you weren’t there for him.

He doesn’t forgive you, but it’s okay. You don’t forgive yourself either.

_______________

The case officially turned into a murder investigation following Chan’s death. His body was handed over to the coroner to do an autopsy and try to gather any forensic evidence left, but neither yielded much information, and the police had no leads.

Soon, the case turned cold.

As for you, you had moved in with Felix,, unable to step back into your apartment without Chan. Fearing that in doing so you’d be acknowledging that he’s gone, and then his spirit would remember to come back to haunt you.

Felix takes such good care of you, even though he’s the one who has the right to be hurt more. He stuck around you all the time, making you feel safe and comforting you. He also kept his distance as much as he could. You could tell he wanted to seek comfort in your body, to help each other through this pain, but you were selfish as always. You only let him comfort you. You never comforted him back.

As the months passed, Felix started getting more and more needy, making you feel even more wretched even though he never said anything. He loved you and you loved him, but Chan’s death had pushed a wedge between you. You couldn’t touch the younger boy without feeling guilty. It felt like you were cheating on Chan more than you ever did before, and so you kept Felix at a distance.

For his part, Felix never outright made an advance on you, respecting your need to grieve, but you could tell from the boner he’d get every time you kissed him even a sweet innocent little kiss or put your arms around him that he needed more, and it made you feel even more horrible. You couldn’t help Chan when he was alive and now you can’t help Felix. You felt like the most selfish fucking human being in the world.

So when you’re woken up from sleep one night, feeling hot and with something hard poking against your ass, you decide to finally give back.

“Noona...” Felix whimpers into your ear, nuzzling his face in the nape of your neck, making goosebumps erupt along your body. You weren’t ready to go all the way yet but at least you could give him some release.

Turning on your back, you guide him to straddle you and let yourself slip into the right headspace. "You dirty little thing, humping your noona in her sleep?"

His eyes light up when he realizes that for the first time in a long time, you’re reciprocating, and he sighs in relief, starting to grind his hips against yours. Tantalizing, you lower the straps of your nightgown, a delicate pink satin piece that Felix bought for you, to expose your tits for him. He hums appreciatively, reaching out to touch, but you slap his hand away. “Only look.”

He shudders, nodding, and humps against you faster. "Noona, please, fuck me. Fuck your dumb baby."

"No whining." You reprimand, lifting his shirt up to his mouth and he obediently bites on it, muffling his noises. With the shirt up, his boxers are exposed, and you watch as every time he thrusts forward, the tip of his dick pokes out from his boxers, red and leaking. “And I thought you’d thank me for being so nice to a pervert like you.”

Felix pants around the fabric in his mouth, his dick dripping over your panties. Placing your hand on his ass, you feel the muscle clench and relax as he ruts desperately against you. “Is this how you wanna fuck noona? You think your little dick can make me feel good?”

He pushes the shirt out of his mouth with his tongue and babbles. “I can noona. Just let me put it inside.” He grabs his dick and runs the head of it over your clothed slit, making you shiver at the stimulation. Then he pushes the head against your hole but is prevented from pushing in because of the underwear “Just let me put it in, noona.”

“You’re a greedy little kitten aren’t you? Put your hands up to your chest, kitty.” You order, and he reluctantly obeys. “Now stick your tongue out and pant for me.”

He does so with a flush, looking like a cat in heat. Absolutely filthy.

“That’s it. That’s a good, boy. Putting on a show for noona.”

He nods happily, high off the praise you’re giving him. "I'm gonna cum for you noona. Watch me cum for you."

“I’m looking, little whore. Cum for me.” You purr, cupping handfuls of his ass as you encourage his now sloppy thrusts.

Felix cries out, cum spurting out of the tip of his cock and landing on your pretty silk nightgown. You tut disappointedly, “Look at the mess you made, kitten. You ruined my nightgown with your filthy cum.”

“I’m sorry, noona.” Felix pants, not looking sorry at all. In fact, he looks enraptured by the sight in front of him. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

He falls over your chest, suckling on your breasts gently as his breathing slows down and becomes deep as he falls asleep.

_____________________

That’s how things go for a long while. Just you helping Felix take the edge off without actually going all the way. You can tell he’s disappointed. He must’ve thought that this was the start of you reigniting your relationship, but you still can’t get yourself to be there for him in the way he needs you. And despite you acting romantically together and going on dates, you never officially acknowledged that you are in a relationship, and you can tell that this, more than anything, hurt him the most.

You feel pity and self-hate fill you up as you play with the boy’s hair, his head resting on your lap.

“How do you like the cocktail?” Felix asks lazily, taking you out of your thoughts.

You blink and take another sip of the drink he made you, appreciating the taste on your tongue. It’s actually pretty good, and you tell him exactly that. “But it seems quite strong. I’m a little lightheaded already. What’s in it, kitten?”

Felix giggles as he presses a finger to his mouth, making a shushing sound. “It's a secret.”

You smile fondly at him, soaking up his laughter along with the afternoon son, the calming rhythm of lix's breathing and the strong drink making you feel sleepy. You decide you’re gonna ask him if he’d like to take a nap with you, but before you can form your words, you abruptly get much sleepier, your eyelids turning to lead as they struggle to stay open to the world spinning around you.

You finally manage a little groan, attracting Felix’s attention. He looks up at you in question and his curious eyes are the last thing you see before it all goes black

_____________________

You wake up feeling hot and sticky. Groggily coming to, you blurrily see a mop of blonde hair over your exposed chest and feel wetness over your nipples. Despite your heavy head, you can immediately tell it’s Felix, and your thoughts trudge along as you try to think of what you were doing last but the memory is too fuzzy.

You’re easily distracted when you feel his moans against your skin as he kisses and suckles on your breasts, his hips dragging over your thigh needily. You try to move your hands to push him away, confused and mad that he is touching you without permission, but you only hear the sound of metal clanking as your hands stay above your head, and with a panic, you realize that you were shackled to the bed.

At the sound, Felix lifts his head up and smiles at you sweetly, as if nothing about this was weird. “Noona, you’re awake!”

You stare at him in bewilderment, and he finally realizes what’s wrong. Sheepishly, he explains, “I’m sorry. You were taking so long to wake up and I couldn’t help myself.”

His words don’t really make the situation much clearer. "What is happening? Why am I bound?"

He smiles, moving up your body so his nose is touching yours. "You've been bad noona, rejecting me for so long. I tried to wait. I tried to be good for you but you still kept rejecting me. So I decided to push things along a little."

"What?" You ask, throat dry.

"I put a sedative in your drink so you'd pass out and I can play with you." He explains cheerily, like that was a completely normal and benign thing to do.

"What the fuck, Felix?” You shout, pulling on your shackles in alarm. “You're crazy."

"Crazy over you." He giggles, pinning your hands to the bed so you wouldn’t struggle. “Now stop or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re the one who is hurting me!”

He frowns. “Don’t say that, noona. I’ve been taking good care of you, haven’t I?”

“And you think that gives you the right to drug and assault me?”

His frown deepens at that, all air of playfulness gone from around him. “Stop. Saying. That.” He grits, “I can’t assault you when you’re mine.”

He leans back and palms at your breasts greedily, his thumbs brushing over your wet buds, and you struggle to not arch up into his touch, a fresh wave of arousal sticking your shorts to your pussy even more. “You’re so perfect, noona.”

"Let me go." You cry, gradually getting more and more panicked.

"I'll never let you go again." His voice is gruff and it sends a shiver down your spine as he rubs his fingers over your clit coarsely. “So stop this or you’ll make me really angry, noona.”

You still immediately, thinking back on what he did last time he got mad. You could still feel the suffocation gripping your throat.

“If you’re wet, noona. I’ll know you want me too.” He pulls back from your chest and slowly peels your shorts down your legs, a gasp escaping him when he is undoubtedly greeted by your underwear sticking to your slick, puffy lips in arousal. “I knew it. Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

He grabs the top of your panties, pulling them up so they’d rub over your pussy, teasing you and delighting in watching you involuntarily squirm. “You’re so sensitive, noona.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” He slinks your panties down your legs then pulls your thighs up, spreading your legs wide for him, and moaning out in appreciation. “Ah, fuck, noona…so hot.”

His fingers slowly rub over your exposed, drenched pussy, driving you crazy with the deliberate, wide strokes. You have to fight hard to not close your legs around him. “Want more, noona?”

You bite down on your tongue. You won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it out loud. Resolutely, his fingers trail down your pussy and into your warm, tight heat, and you can’t fight back the gasp that is ripped from you. You shake as his fingers ever so slowly pump in and out of you. And when he puts his mouth on you, your moans flow out, not caring anything for your ego.

Felix moans into your pussy, eating you out slowly too, maddening slow as if he was kissing you. The wet sounds of his lips and tongue on you make you burn in shame and arousal.

He stays between your legs a long time, driving you mad, his tongue deliberately moving along your folds and and his lips sucking on your sensitive skin, while his fingers stay inside your pussy and relentlessly but equally as slowly rub against that sweet spot inside you. You feel the burn gradually build in your body, it fries your brain and by the time you cum, your entire nervous system is on fire.

He climbs up your body, looking down at you with the most fucked out look on his pretty face, his eyes absolutely glazed over with lust as he bucks his crotch against you and kisses your mouth the same way he did your pussy. You taste yourself on him so clearly it feels like the taste is imprinted on his tongue forever.

Pulling away, a trail of saliva and cum connects your lips. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Let me go, baby.” You coax gently, hoping he won’t get upset if you’re sweet. “Let me go and I'll fuck you."

He shakes his head, "I know you're lying to me, noona. I know I have to break you in first before I let you go."

You pale, bile rising up your throat at the ominous words. "Break me in… how?"

"You’ll see." He giggles, craning your neck up and kissing your skin harshly, growling in between the sloppy kisses, "But when you're over those worthless boys, maybe you can fuck me again. I hate being a bad boy but this is the only way to make you see."

Pulling back from your stinging neck, he presses his dick to your entrance. Your pussy spasms around the tip of his dick, and he chuckles deeply. “Look how needy your pussy is for me. Noona was wasting time being a little slut and letting those bastards touch her when she could've had me." He says reproachfully, as if you were a misbehaving child, and it makes your anger flare up and overpower your fear.

"I don't want you, you freak." You spit out and he slaps you, hard, the force of it busting your lip open. Taking a deep break, he calms himself down and smiles again. "Now that's not very nice, noona. After all I've done for you." He leans down and licks at the drop of blood that sprung from your lip, moaning at the taste.

"You made me wait for so long, noona. I can't wait anymore." He shakes a little, as if it really was hurting him physically to hold back. Pushing into you, he lets out a shuddering cry. "I love you so much. You're finally mine."

You arch your back as he buries himself all the way inside of you, and he takes that opportunity to bend down and pluck one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimper against him, making him speed up his thrusts.

“I’m making you feel good, aren’t I, noona?” He grunts, keeping your legs wide open as he fucks into you but you don’t reply, angering him. Suddenly, you’re flipped onto your stomach, and he pushes himself between your spread legs so you can't close them, plunging his dick back inside you. “You will not ignore me, noona. I will not allow it.”

He steadies himself on both sides of you and leans over you, trapping you under him and fucking you hard and slow, trying to get as deep inside you as possible despite his size and making you shiver as his dick drags against your walls. He gradually speeds up, his dick gliding easily over the track it made, overwhelming your poor pussy.

He fucks you so well, and you’re entirely, completely ashamed of how good it feels. It seems like he is intent on humiliating you, his dick hitting the sweet spot inside of you perfectly with each thrust, and your pussy keeps clenching around him more and more as the sound of your flesh smacking together fills the room. You’re transfixed under him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open with your back perfectly arched to receive his thrusts, and soon, he grunts into your ear, "I'm so close."

Your eyes snap open urgently. “Pull out. I'm not on birth control. You can’t cum inside me." You explain hastily. You had stopped taking the pill ever since Chan had passed away. You weren’t fucking Felix so you felt no need to take it.

"I know, noona." He says and you almost sigh in relief, fully expecting Felix to whine but pull out. But to your horror, he continues, "Gonna breed you so you'll never leave me again."

Your breath catches in your throat and your nerves go numb. You sob, “Felix, please no. Pull out, baby please. I won’t leave. I’ll stay.”

“You will.” He promises you, and doesn’t pull back. Instead, fucking you harder and spanking your ass as he grunts loudly, "Take it like a good noona."

He empties himself inside of you, his hot cum flooding your pussy, and to your great shame, that pushes you to cum too, your pussy milking him obediently. He praises you happily, "Good noona, taking all my cum. Your pussy knows you belong to me."

You think he’ll be done now, having fucked you and filled you up. But to your horror, he turns you on your side and embraces you from behind. Lifting one leg up in the air, he starts fucking you again. With how wet you were and his previous ejaculation, wet lewd sounds fill the room along with his low grunts and your breathless gasps.

He spends the whole night fucking you, taking you in every position conceivable and making sure to empty every little drop inside of you, apologizing for being a bad boy and promising you that he'll take any punishment you give him once you’re pregnant with his baby and he can be sure you'll stay.

The worst part is that he makes sure you cum too, seeming intent on not allowing you any space to later claim like you didn’t enjoy yourself, murmuring praises into your ear every time you orgasm. "Good noona, cumming around my cock. Kitty is so happy with you. You wanna cum again?"

You are almost passed out when he’s done fucking you. Leaving you used up and sprawled out on the bed, he gets up to retrieve something. When he gets back on the bed, you purposefully don’t look at him, expecting him to now try to suck up to you and get you to forgive him.

But he doesn’t say anything and you suddenly jolt at the sharp sting you feel along your inner thigh. You look down in horror to see felix carving something with a knife onto your skin. His own name.

You shout and begin to struggle, only to quickly realize that you shouldn't be moving around with a sharp knife so close to your genitals, and Felix is aware of that too. He ignores your tearful pleas and pained screams until he’s all done. Brandishing the now bloody knife, he whispers conspiratorially, “Wanna know something, noona?”

You don’t reply but he doesn’t care, smiling as he pushes the knife to your throat. “This is the knife I used to stab Jisung.” Your stomach drops and your blood beats frenziedly against the knife pressed to your skin. “It’s also the same knife I used to kill Chan.”

You stay frozen in place, not even breathing, not even blinking.

"I didn't want to kill him. I really loved him. He was the only one I was willing to share you with but he left me no choice.” He goes on, pouting slightly as if he was lamenting losing his favorite mug. “But it’s better this way. Now you’re all mine. And once you're broken in, I'll let you use this to mark me up too."

____________________

A/N: let me know what you think of the ending. I love to hear it!

[no-droids]

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here.  This is like.  You remember that one game, Mercy?  The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous.  Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares?  It’s child’s play.  It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person.  You never have been.  It’s just not part of your nature.  If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else.  You just… do you.  You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good.  And if it’s bad, it’s good.  Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit?  Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open.  “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron.  What are we doing?  Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up. 

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl.  You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench.  “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today?  Thursday?  Friday?  Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day.  Thursday, then. …Thursday?”  You shake your head.  “Ugh, see?  Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.”  He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers.  It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now.  Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that.  Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it.  “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation.  To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small.  Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here.  “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap.  You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are.  “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink.   “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron.  First and last word, that’s all it takes.  And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?”  He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel.  “ Easy credits.  Just begging for it.  Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust.  As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly.  Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him.  “You just turned my money into a sex object.  It was vile.  I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging.  You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it.  “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now.  Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?”  You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them.  Withdrawal stage, ha.   “Of course it’s all that bad.  It’s horrible.  It’s the fucking worst.  And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this?  Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to.  “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you.  “I did not.  When the fuck did I cheat?  I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more.  He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire.  “Okay, first of all?  Rude.  I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright?  I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him.  And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good.  He smells… unbelievably fucking good.  Always.  Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on.  It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit.  No such luck so far.  

“Whatever.  The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.  “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want.  In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming.  “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is.  “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?”  He goes on, completely ignoring you.  “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen?  You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm?  No snorgasms?  Hmmm?  No happy naps?  No captain midnights?  No mattress fracking?  Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked.  “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again.  You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one.  “Anyways.  Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!”  You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting.  And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills.  Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems.  “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!”  You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation.  “There it is!  You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself!  Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both.  Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum?  This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused.  He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath.  “Sorry.  But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal.  And descriptive.  “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right.  Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh?  I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.  

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me.  Not right now.  Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh.  Something occurs to you, something… sinister.  Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long.  It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before.  You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan.  You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away.  A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?”  You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?”  Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more.  “Now many times did you cum in your sleep?  Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?”  He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time.  “It was involuntary.”

You shrug.  “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious.  “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?”  You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with.  Instead, your voice is soft, questioning.  Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait.  You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape.  The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,”  he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought.  Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this.  The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous.  “It’s your room, too.  Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there.  You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?”  You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number.  You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them.  “Red-Six.  Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder.  “Or, wait… Neah.  No—it was… Nalal.  Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter.  “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest.  “It was starting to get obnoxious.  Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is.  “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should.  Lower than it should.  You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls?  Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel.  “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head.  “Sometimes a sabbatical is good.  I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment.  “I’m sorry?  And… you’re welcome.  I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long.  The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable.  At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together.  I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block.  He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus.   You have to control yourself.  You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless.  It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this.  Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever.  One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option.  “This isn’t a good idea.  It’s… not healthy.  I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him.  “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing.  It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit.  “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection.  “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp.  “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—”  You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?”  Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky.  Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding.  Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast?  This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself?  “Finish it.  Sooner, rather than later.  Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident.  Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive.  Fuck.  Dameron, and you, in bed.  It could be mean.  It could be rough.  A fight for dominance more than anything.  He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now.  Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning.  Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?”  Are the first recognizable words that can be heard.  “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips.  “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance.  It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working.  Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before.  Of course.  Stupid.  Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air.  You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed?  A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet.  You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think.  Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences.  You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off.  This is different.  This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable.  A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…”  Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you.  There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him.  Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal.  You don’t like it.  You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead.  The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong.  “I mean, y’know.  Theoretically speaking, and all.  If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before.  Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something.  This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you.  Shit.  You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.  

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin.  You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done.  What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation.  You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it.  Stop it.  Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation.  How dare he?  How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses?  You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him.  Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier.  “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet.  No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright?  Don’t talk to me.  You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight.  And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it.  It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has.  Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least.  You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it.  You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving.  It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds.  A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons.  Mainly, the nerve of him.  The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,”  You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space.  You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare.  “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea.  “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge.  “You’re… plotting.  Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship.  “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it.  Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty.  Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it.  “Something that you like, that gets you going.  Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further.  “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should.  It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not.  This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable.  The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?”  You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same.  “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart.  “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks.  Default to normal, default to normal.  “Your fucking attitude.  Your demeanor.  The way you talk down to me.  You don’t listen.  You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen.  You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?”  He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second.  This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here.  He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on.  “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back.  “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it.  There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity.  Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed.  “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily.  “Have since the moment we met.  And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it.  You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?”  You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak.  “Pop the top on this bitch.  Put me out of my fucking misery, right now.  You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait.  And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up.  You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way.  He deserved that.  You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake.  Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you.  Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders.  It’s not sexual.  It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating.  He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline.  His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter.  They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.  

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret.  “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need.  Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words.  To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit.  You feel like you’re literally burning up with it.  You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire.  “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone.  “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember.  Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it.  How long’s it been?  Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless.  Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?”  You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes.  Oh fuck, be cool, be cool.  “You think this is gonna work?  Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek.  The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs.  How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard.  “Tonight, I’ll shave it off.  Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second.  Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow.  “Beard or no beard, makes no difference.  Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere.  You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone.  “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious.  Maker, how long until your shift is over?  You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league.  “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?”  Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder.  “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself.  Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going.  “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next.  “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me.  But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist.  Resist .  You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios.  Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting.  “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you.  Go nice and slow.  I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away.  I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it.  How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker.  This is a trick.  It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it.  You can’t fucking fall for it.  It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all.  He’s lying to get your guard down.  He laughed at your flirting.  He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him.  You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback.  You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say.  Your room.  It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now.  Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register.  “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see.  I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to.  Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out.  And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm.   Your bed,” he eventually decides.  “I want you comfortable.  You shower at night.  Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep.  That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point.  And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while.  However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening.  Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through.  Maker, it’s fucking painful.  You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?”  You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time.  Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body.  “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in.  Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before.  Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other.  Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies.  Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy.  It hurts to lose a first name.  But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design.  He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it.  Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now.  It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two.  You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea.  Nothing about it comes out right.  The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself.  Oh Maker, can you imagine?  How fucking proud of himself he’d be?  You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it.  Where’d it go?  Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it.  Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false… 

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear.  You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you.  Like… teakwood, maybe?  Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind.  What the fuck does teakwood even smell like?  “Maybe it’s just what I need.  You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low.  It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls?  Just a little bit?  That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad.  That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…”  You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now.  “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it.  “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato.  It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low.  “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.  At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs.  “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage.  “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this.  Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be.  You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want.  And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move.  Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body.  You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder.  “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you.  He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side.  “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—”  Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down.   But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second.  As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise.  The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use.  Fuck , it’s been so long .  You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now.  It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks.  “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs.  “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion.  The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone.  Fuck, he almost made you cum.  He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide.  You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again.  You have to close your eyes.  You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more.  “Shhhit.  I…”

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it.  Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless.  “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck.  Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back.  They start… moving slightly.  Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize.  He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm.  Dameron might cum in his pants like this.  Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum.  You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight.  You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving.  “One… one more.  If you want.  You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you.  “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.”  You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether.  His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb.  The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure.  Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger.  He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time.  He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat.  Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief.  Genuine, not embellished.  He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go.  You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this.  You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again.  It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?”  Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that.  He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly.  “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you.  Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet.  Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much.  You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes.  It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it?  You could.  You could cum right now.  What’s two weeks of pay?  You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence.  Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear.  “Be nice.  I’m being nice.”

You should bite him.  Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now.  Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again.  Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying.  You need air.  Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this.  If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all.  Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore.  “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit.  Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half.  He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that.  Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good.  Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good.  Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in.  Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?”  He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them.  “How clearly do you remember the rules?  What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt.  No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer.  “Tell me.  No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind.  But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore.  There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement.  The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it.  “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends.  Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—”  The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out.  “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine.  “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does.  The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it.  You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout.  You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it.  You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves.  The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space.  He doesn’t even acknowledge it.  “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest.  “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens.  Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you?  Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck.  “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order.  “Right now.  Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it.  “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally.  The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm.  You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it.  Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day.  First names hurt.  You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence.  Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks.  A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!