#this is what i get for taking a break during the last half of 1.X

[chickenparm]

desperately going through and completing quests and events i slacked on up until this point. aventurine is coming and it's almost time for me to pay the fucking piper.

[hausofwoo]

swallow | park seonghwa

pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader

word count: 5.6K

this is part 2 of open wide! if you have not yet read part 1, i highly suggest reading it first.

summary: ever since that night, seonghwa has been avoiding you. but when new guy yunho starts at the restaurant, tensions rise until it reaches a breaking point.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender!seonghwa, server!reader, enemies to lovers trope, smoking (cigarette), alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all), dick slapping, biting, cumplay, oral (f receiving), face sitting, creampie, degrading, use of petnames (princess, baby), the passion is T H E R E, woosan allegations once again, feat. new guy!yunho, server/work bestie!ryujin, servers!wooyoung and san, restaurant manager!hongjoong.

author's note: i already intended on making a part 2 of open wide, and everyone's feedback was so sweet and helpful on part 1! thank u again to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers as always :-) plz enjoy ♡ ✧*

your eyes flutter open to the birds chirping outside. it’s way too fucking early to be awake right now. you feel yourself in a half-dream half-awake state, mind fuzzy and floaty. you turn your head to the side to see the man you spent the night with; the man who made you feel so good.

you rub your eyes a bit, attempting to wipe away the sleepiness. your vision adjusts, and you take a deeper look at him. seonghwa.

he really is beautiful. perfectly plump lips, long eyelashes, and there’s something about the way his nose is just a liiiiittle bit bumped at the bridge. even in his flaws you find beauty. you can’t resist gazing at him while he sleeps, his hair all messy in his face. why is it that he is so beautiful, yet the way he treats you is so far from that?

he shifts a bit, letting out a gentle sigh. your eyes begin to droop again, and you feel yourself drift off to the sound of his soft breathing.

when you wake, your bed feels cold. he left. you sit up slowly, stretching your arms up to ring out the exhaustion from your body. you look back at the empty spot next you.

it’s interesting that he left without a word, but you don’t know what to make out of it. before last night, you clearly couldn’t stand each other. you thought he was conceited and condescending. he was rude. and even during last night, his ego pooled over. but was the mere thought of missing him childish? you can’t help but to feel like there was something more to it. there was something on a deeper level that made you curious, therefore you wanted it back even more so. you started to feel like those girls from the movies; the ones where the girl becomes clingy after a one night stand. a cliché.

so what if he didn’t stay? it’s not like he actually felt anything for you. it was just a quick fuck. you probably were just another girl that he decided to throw a bone to. that’s what cocky men like him enjoy; just someone to string along and play with until he’s bored with them. you figured that time came sooner than you expected. well fuck him.

he hasn’t made eye contact with you once since you came in to work. you have the section right in front of the bar (thanks for nothing, hongjoong) so you have to just bear through it every time you pass him by. you prep your tables for service, wiping them down mindlessly.

you suppose there isn’t really a right way to go about this. sleeping with a coworker is a no-no, especially in restaurants. it gets messy (but it happens nonetheless). it’s not like you can go up to him and talk to him as if nothing happened. he didn’t exactly set you up for success either. he left without a word, and now you’re forced into the same space as him, clueless as to what to do. you decide to just ignore him unless absolutely necessary.

ryujin hops over next to you, a little too peppy for how you’re feeling.

“are you ready for a great service tonight?” ryujin says sarcastically, but with a grin.

“i want it to be over already,” you force out a dry chuckle, still half-assing the prep for your tables.

“the hell is wrong with you?” ryujin snorts.

“i’ll just—“ you start, but then realize you felt eyes burning into you. you look up the moment seonghwa’s gaze shifts, going back to wiping down the bar. “um, i’ll tell you later.”

“okay…” ryujin says, puzzled. she walks back to her section to prep.

your eyes are compelled to shift back up to seonghwa. at this point it just feels embarrassing to be wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he felt what you felt sunday night. your thoughts are interrupted by hongjoong approaching you with a tall man, someone new.

“this is yunho,” hongjoong says, almost presenting the man to you. “he’s going to be trailing you tonight. just show him the ropes and i’ll grab him once dinner service slows down.”

yunho steps forward, extending a hand to you. “it’s so nice to meet you!” he gives you a warm smile as you shake his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you too, yunho,” you say, surprised by the immediate kindness. this feels a lot nicer than how you’ve been treated before.

tuesday nights are usually slow, even during dinner service. you had a decent amount of tables, but nothing you couldn’t handle. and fortunately the new guy caught on really quickly, grabbing the drinks for your tables, clearing empty plates when needed… working with him was making your shift a breeze.

“you’ve worked in restaurants before, haven’t you?” you ask yunho. you refill a water jug for your table with him in the back.

“yeah, i have,” he says meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you can tell?”

“definitely,” you nod with a smile. “what happened at the last place?”

“the management,” he chuckles, and you knew exactly what he meant without any explanation. “don’t tell anyone, but i quit without notice.”

you fake a gasp, pretending to clutch your pearls. you let out a light-hearted laugh. “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

yunho gives a sweet smile to you, eye contact lingering a bit. you look down and realize the jug of water started overflowing and quickly move it away, letting out a humored yelp.

“oops,” he whispers, and you both giggle quietly to each other while wiping down the mess.

little did you know, seonghwa was entering the back to switch kegs for the beer on tap, and he walked in on your giggle-fest. he looks between the two of you momentarily as he continues to the back. you don’t even notice him until he passes. in a strange way, you can almost see annoyance radiating off of him. but maybe you’re making things up?

at the end of service, you finish closing all your tabs and count your tips at the bar with ryujin and wooyoung. yunho was in the back with hongjoong, debriefing the shift. you assumed seonghwa was in the back too, but you pushed away the curiosity.

“what a slow night,” ryujin sighs. she holds up her measly few bills and fakes a cry.

“how was training the new guy?” wooyoung inquires, packing his things.

“it was really good,” you can’t help but smile a little too big. your face drops when seonghwa walks back out to the bar, carrying a pack of beer to restock. you swear he steals a glance at you before kneeling down to refill the low-boys.

“speak of the devil!” ryujin grins, with all of you shifting your view to see yunho walking to the bar with an apron in hand.

“i think you guys might be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, fake-cockily. the three of you congratulate him, all while seonghwa minds to himself.

“when’s your next shift then?” you ask.

“hongjoong said i’ll train the rest of the week, and then my first day live is sunday,” he says, throwing his bag on his shoulder.

“you know what that means…” wooyoung voices mischievously.

“uhhh, what does that mean?” yunho utters, a curious expression on his face.

“sunday celebration!” ryujin throws her hands up in excitement.

“what the hell is sunday celebration?” yunho laughs.

“basically,” ryujin starts, “it’s where we all go out after our shift to a dive bar nearby and drink away our sorrows. but this time we can drink in ACTUAL celebration!”

“i could be down for that,” yunho says. he looks directly to you. “will i see you there?”

your lips part to answer, but your ears are punctured by glass shattering, and the sound of beer fizzing on the floor. your head snaps over to see seonghwa grumbling and picking up the pieces.

“party foul!” wooyoung says jokingly, but then was met with seonghwa’s glare. “kidding…”

you stand from the bar stool and gather your things, taking the cue to leave. “i’m gonna head out. yunho, see you tomorrow?”

“yup,” he says, holding back a smile. “i’ll see you then.”

you turn to walk to the door, feeling eyes like daggers piercing your back.

seonghwa is messing up a lot lately. which is very unlike him, being that he’s a perfectionist. you rang up an order of drinks for your tables, and yeah it was quite a few drinks, but you had never seen him mistake a gin martini for a vodka martini. you approach the drink pass with the misfired drink, setting it down.

“seonghwa,” you call to him, pointing at the drink. “i need a gin martini.”

“that IS a gin martini,” he says flatly, filling a beer from the tap. so sure of himself.

“no,” you insist. “this is vodka.”

he approaches the pass, setting down the beer with its appropriate ticket. he plucks a cocktail straw to do a straw taste of the drink. but with the sip, he wasn’t remotely shaken. he just tosses the liquid in the sink, remaking it without a word.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” he says while stirring the beverage.

“are you gonna make it right this time?” you snap.

he places the drink on the pass, clearly pissed off. he slams the ticket next to the drink and glares at you, almost too close. you feel the huffs of his irritated breaths fanning your face, and for the first time since that night, you really look at each other. but all that was tangible in the air was anger.

“run your drink, princess.” he enunciates your nickname, packing a punch.

after finishing your closing duties, you’re ready to leave and put this shift behind you. you wave goodbye to your coworkers and start heading out the back door, it being held open by a loose brick. just as your feet hit the pavement of the alley, you hear your name being called behind you.

“wait!” you turn to yunho calling after you, and stopping in the doorway. “you leaving?”

“oh, uh, yeah,” you say, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “i got all my side work done so i’m heading home.”

“oh, okay,” he says shyly, obviously with a second thought on his mind.

you look at each other for a moment, but not out of awkwardness, just with a peculiar feeling of enticement.

“so um, how was training with wooyoung today?” you ask.

“oh yeah,” yunho laughs. “it was good. he’s really funny with his tables.”

“yeah, that guy’s definitely a yapper,” you both giggle to each other in amusement.

“sooo… you’re walking home?” he asks, leaning on the frame of the door.

“i usually walk home, i don’t live that far,” you explain.

“me too! maybe i can walk you—“ yunho gets cut off by seonghwa barging into the doorway.

“can i borrow her for a sec?” seonghwa says, barely making it a question.

yunho hesitantly nods, “yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you later?” he says to you, giving you a small wave.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow yunho,” you force a smile, with a pleading HELP ME written behind your eyes.

seonghwa leads you to the walk in, slamming the door behind him. he hovers over you and you can literally see the heat fuming off of him.

“what do you want, seonghwa?” you ask bluntly, trying your best not to sound intimidated.

“we need to talk,” he growls at you, stepping forward, forcing you to press up against the wall behind you.

“about what?” you quip with a begging tone. is this really the time to talk about it?

your eyes bore into each other, faces inches apart. his snarl nearly dissipates when he rips his eyes away from yours for a moment to glance at your lips. you blink up at him in temptation. you can feel the tension in the air, wondering if it was contempt or all encompassing desire. perhaps it was both.

“th–that shit you pulled earlier, don’t do it again,” seonghwa hesitantly lets out, nearly losing his composure.

“what, when you fucked up my drink order?” you ask.

“when you grilled me in the middle of service,” he defends.

“for fucking up, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “doesn’t feel nice to be scolded for your mistakes, does it?”

he glares at you for a beat, clearly unsure how to dig himself out of this hole. a hole that he dug. as if he snapped out of a trance, he steps back slightly. he clenches his jaw, and in a swift motion, withdraws from the walk-in. you’re left alone, still pressed up against the icy wall. a rolling cloud escapes your lips, making you realize you had been holding your breath.

it felt like sunday night didn’t come soon enough. this weekend was busier than usual, so all the running around on top of the rigidity of seonghwa was making you go mad. it’s difficult to avoid someone you hate when you have to retrieve drink orders from him all day. luckily, he just reserved to himself and you followed suit.

throwing your bag onto the bar, you slump into the bar seat at the end of the night.

“here,” hongjoong passes a shift beer to each of the servers at the bar, including you. “you guys need these after this weekend.”

you give a thank you while cracking it open, taking a big gulp. you let out a big sigh of relief.

“you’re right, hongjoong,” you say blissfully. “i did need this.”

ryujin snickers next to you, nudging your shoulder. “there will be plenty more at sunday celebration, don’t you worry.”

“speaking of,” san says, grabbing the shoulders of yunho. “congrats on your first live shift, yunho!”

“yeah, how was it?” you ask. you can’t help but smile at the beaming man.

“it went…” yunho starts, pausing for effect. “swimmingly.”

“sounds like a cause for celebration!” ryujin sing-songs, raising her beer in salute.

you all raise your glasses, short one person of course: seonghwa, who was mopping down the bar floor. after a hefty drink, wooyoung crushes his can first and tosses it in the trash.

“let’s start celebrating, sannie,” wooyoung says, throwing his arm over san’s shoulder. (seriously, what the hell is going on there?)

san and wooyoung book it out the door and ryujin follows soon after, finishing her beer and beckoning you to join.

“almost done, you go ahead!” you encourage, packing up your things hap-hazardly with one hand and chugging your beer with the other.

“shit, you guys drink fast,” yunho says, swishing his beer around to hear how much he has left. with a laugh he says, “wish i could just take this to go.”

“i won’t tell,” you whisper to him, grabbing him to join you. “walk with me?”

“okay,” yunho smiles, almost looking like he had stars in his eyes.

you two waltz out the door, leaving seonghwa at the bar cleaning alone. and with your eyes finally averted away, he can finally have no shame in watching you intently out the window. he is so fucked.

“here’s to yunho!” mingi hosts the cheers, with everyone raising their glasses, clinking them together and collectively taking a drink.

“guys,” yunho says with his face still contorted from the liquor. “thank you so much. you’ve all been so welcoming!”

“of course, you’re part of the fam now!” san smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders.

everyone takes their respective seats and mingle amongst each other, all while taking more shots and drinking more beer. you, of course, were sat with ryujin and wooyoung talking about the latest work drama.

“have you guys noticed something different about seonghwa lately?” wooyoung asks. “like when he broke that beer the other night? i swear, the whole year i’ve worked here i’ve never seen him break a thing.”

“dude, yes,” ryujin says, leaning in. “he fucked up a couple of my drink orders today. so weird.”

“he’s definitely been in a bad mood lately,” you mumble, holding back from telling your secret.

“yeah, more than usual,” ryujin rolls her eyes. “he probably just needs to get laid.”

you choke back a bit on your drink, taken off guard by the comment. you realize the problem is not that he needs to get laid, but that he did get laid. and now he’s being tortured by seeing the poor girl at work every day. why did he have to sleep with you when you know he feels nothing but disdain for you? are you just a toy to him? you begin to feel dizzy, partly from the alcohol, but also from the thoughts spinning in your head.

“you okay?” wooyoung asks you, handing you a water. you nod and take the drink from him, but his eyes are quickly diverted to the bar. “oh shit, seonghwa is here.”

“what?” ryujin tries her best to look subtly. “do you think our shit-talking manifested him?”

“i don’t know,” you huff, trying to figure out a way to avoid him. “but i’m gonna go sit on the patio.”

“there’s a patio?” yunho chimes in, hearing the last bit. “can i join?”

you smile and nod, leading him back. this will be a good distraction.

“so…” you start, leaning against the wooden patio covering. “how do you like it here? at the restaurant, i mean.”

“it’s definitely different,” yunho laughs. he leans on the covering next to you. “everyone is super nice, the food is good… and it’s nice to work for a local business. the management seems to really care about the employees.”

“definitely, hongjoong is great manager.” you nod to him.

“it’s actually crazy,” yunho starts. “i’ve never seen so many attractive people all working in one place before.”

“what, like ryujin? or wooyoung? or san?” you giggle, realizing he was right. you do have a LOT of hot coworkers.

“well, sure,” yunho says shyly. “but no, i meant you.”

“oh,” you say, caught off guard. you suddenly feel a lot more drunk. you look up at him momentarily, him leaning closer to you.

if someone else saw this body language from an outside perspective, they’d think that he looks like he wants to kiss you. and so what if he did? would it be the worst thing in the world to entertain this, even after your mess with seonghwa?

yunho leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, quick but sweet. when he pulls away, you’re left looking at him with an unreadable expression, but in your mind, you were reeling.

there was something… missing. and it irritated the fuck out of you. yunho did give you butterflies, but you wonder if it’s just because it feels nice to have attention on you. especially from someone that’s actually kind and seems like he actually wants to get to know you. but in your crazy toxic head, you realize what was missing. passion.

“i-i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have done that,” yunho says, touching his fingertips on his lips.

“no, no,” you say, grabbing his arm. “it’s okay.”

before yunho can get out a word, the back door shuts with seonghwa walking out, witnessing the scene. you can’t resist stepping back slightly from yunho, as if it’s not too late to be caught. he looks between you and seonghwa, adding two and two together just from the tension alone.

“i think i’m gonna head back inside,” yunho says, rubbing the back of his neck. “sorry, again.”

“yunho, wait,” you call after him, but he already shuts the door behind him.

“let him leave,” seonghwa commands, leaning against the wall.

“what are you even doing here, seonghwa?” you ask, already putting your guard up.

“the fuck are you doing with the new guy?” he says, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match. of course he’s one of those pretentious dudes that uses a fucking match to light a cig.

“since when do you smoke?” you say, desperately trying to change the subject.

“i don’t,” he says casually, blowing a cloud into the air. “just been stressed lately.”

“i can tell,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “it’s like you forgot how to bartend.”

“it’s not just work,” he says, brushing off the insult you threw at him. “it’s also you.”

“what about me?” you basically refuse, shaking your head. “i’ve been doing exactly what you want me to do. i don’t talk to you, i don’t look at you. i pretty much avoid you at all costs. you’re off the hook, seonghwa. you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

“who says that’s what i wanted?” seonghwa says, finally looking directly to you.

“you didn’t have to say it,” you spit at him, forcing him silent.

the air feels heavy. seonghwa struggles to find words for what he wanted to say. he looks down again, ashing his half-smoked cigarette. the back door opens to wooyoung and san following after him, both opting to sit in the patio chairs in the corner. they continue their conversation, and seonghwa looks to you.

“we should talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning to your coworkers. he’s already grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“why, so you can keep being an asshole to me without an audience?” you say.

“because i want to finish what we started,” he mumbles, walking out of the patio and to the back parking lot.

you try your best to resist, but curiosity overcame you as you follow.

after a short but tense drive, you arrive at what seems to be seonghwa’s apartment. he shuts the engine off and jumps out of his car. you slowly try to register what the hell is happening, unbuckling and hopping out. seonghwa doesn’t look back you, he just continues walking, knowing you’re trailing after him. he unlocks his front door, letting both of you in. he closes the door behind you, watching you examine your surroundings.

“this is exactly how i imagined your place,” you say, almost to yourself.

“you’ve been imagining my apartment?” he smirks.

“yeah,” you scoff. “it’s just as cold and rigid as you.”

“thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.

“so now what?” you say expectantly. “you bring me back here yell at me? make me cry?”

“there’s only one scenario i want of you crying,” he says, stepping closer to where he’s leaning over you. you suddenly feel stone-cold sober.

“and what’s that?” you say, tongue in your cheek, pretending not to know exactly what’s about to happen. and pretending you don’t want it so bad.

seonghwa grabs your cheek, beckoning your face closer to his. his eyes bore into yours, before landing down to your lips. not holding back anymore, he presses his lips onto yours with purpose. your lips meld into his, placing your hands on his chest. your kiss deepens in fervor, as if the hunger completely took over both of you. soon enough, you’re moving together towards his bedroom, clothes and inhibitions shedding along the way.

you fall back onto the bed with seonghwa standing over you. he takes off his belt while looking down at you with a look that can only be described as burning desire. once he discards his pants, he slowly runs his fingers across your panty-clad core. you’re embarrassed by how fucking wet you are already, slightly closing your legs around him.

“no no, princess,” he smirks down at you, licking his lips. “keep them open for me.”

you do as your told, letting him push your underwear to the side and feeling the wetness between your folds. he gathers some of your slick and brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring it.

“fuck,” he tilts his head up as he groans, unintentionally bucking his hips against the edge of the bed. “you taste so fucking good.”

with one hand gripping your thigh, the other hand dips back to your heat to slowly insert his middle finger in you. he lets you adjust momentarily before sliding in his ring finger, curling them both. he thrusts in and out, all while watching you squirm under his touch. he just watches in awe, mouth hanging open as he fixates on your pussy enveloping his digits, coating them with your essence. he releases the hand on your thigh to palm himself at the sight. he twitches in his underwear, precum soaking through at the tip.

as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he withdraws his fingers from inside you and rips your underwear, completely tearing the fabric to have more access to you. he tugs his bottoms down to release his aching cockhead, the tip leaking in a long drip onto you. he guides his member down the length of your core to gather your juices and stimulating your clit all the while.

with an elongated hiss, he enters you slowly. you’re taking every inch of him, pulsating around him. you moan with him as he starts rolling his hips into you. you can feel his head hitting every inch of your walls, the pressure making you moan in sweet agony. your sounds ring in his ears, savoring the whimpers you let out just for him. this quickens his pace, still driving into you with cadence.

he’s literally fucking you into the mattress, splitting you open with vigor. you find it impossible to keep from tightening around him in pleasure, and he loses a bit of his rhythm. he pulls out of you completely.

“you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he says between exasperated breaths. he holds his length above you, slapping it onto your core. he bites his lip to hold back a groan before grabbing your waist to switch positions.

he sits up on the bed and places you on top of him. he holds your waist as he guides you down onto his cock. he examines every inch of your face, reveling at the way it contorts at the feeling of him entering you. once you adjust to him again, you start moving. you ride him, throwing your head back. seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss and bite at the expanse of your neck. he moans as he begins thrusting upwards in tandem with you. he’s hitting all the right spots, and your bodies move together like a dance.

the moans you let out are uncontrollable, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. it feels like no one’s ever made you feel this way, feel this good. and maybe it’s true; maybe no one has ever awakened this primal, animalistic desire within you. it feels addictive, and you could not get enough. you pull him closer, yearning to feel every inch of his glistening body against yours, desperate for your forms to meld together in an all-encompassing embrace.

he crashes his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, a surge of passion pouring through and intensifying with every passing second. he reaches his hand down to toy with your clit, forcing you off his lips to let out a wanton moan. you core clenches around his length and a wave of stimulation transcends your body.

“cum with me, baby,” seonghwa lets out softly, continuing to thrust into you and toying with your clit.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, all while seonghwa’s eyes devour every inch of you, mesmerized by the sounds of your moans, the sweat trickling down your neck. each movement and touch sends shivers down his spine, solidifying his obsession with you. he wishes with every fiber of his being he could immortalize this sight in his mind forever. he is absolutely captivated by you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before resting his hand just below the side of your face.

his jaw goes slack when your core clenches erratically around him, drinking up this view as you completely come undone on his cock. he continues to piston into you until he follows immediately after, no longer holding back his moans of euphoria.

as your hips both begin to slow to a stop, seonghwa pulls you off of him, eyes still full of unrelenting lust.

“get on top of me,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face. “i want to taste myself in you.”

his hands grip your thighs as he guides your folds to his eager mouth. as soon as your core meets his tongue, a moan escapes his lips. his seed is still spilling out of you, and he licks up every drop with determination. your hips are still above him, hesitant to put your full weight on him.

“i need you sit on my face,” he says between licks. “i want you to fucking suffocate me.”

his hands on your thighs urge you down, letting you become fully seated on his mouth. he devours you, exploring every inch of you. you rock your hips against his tongue, each motion intensifying your pleasure. his hands encourage you to move faster, to take what you want from him. he separates from your core briefly to groan.

“baby, fuck my tongue,” he commands, attaching back onto you, granting you full access to his mouth.

you let his tongue slide into you and thrust onto it, all while his nose bumps at your clit. you feel the tension building in your stomach once again. the overstimulation sends you spiraling, hips continuing to grind onto his hungry tongue. you see his eyebrows knitting together in bliss, the vibrations of his insistent moans sending a pang throughout your body.

“seonghwa, p-please,” you beg, as if you weren’t the one on top of him, fucking his mouth. his dominance overtook you in every way, no matter what position. “i’m going to cum.”

he nods as if he’s saying, ‘yes, please cum on my face, please let me feel you,’ but is stifled by the grinding of your hips. he flattens his tongue so you can thrust your folds on him, and he’s smirking with lust behind his eyes. you let out a cry in pure bliss, your core contracting and spilling your essence onto his lips. he swallows every drop before latching his mouth back onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm. your movements slow down, and you let out a satisfied moan.

you fall off of him, positioning to rest your head on his chest. the waves of pleasure start to subside, and the only thing that can be heard in the silent air was the synchronization of your heartbeats. then reality hits you.

“seonghwa,” you say quietly. “what are we doing? why are we doing this?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. he struggles to find the right words. “i just… i don’t think i want this to stop.”

you lift your head up, almost thinking it’s a joke. but when you look into his eyes, you can tell he’s being genuine.

“but… but you hate me,” you say.

“i could never hate you,” he urges. he places his hand on your cheek, stroking softly.

you want so badly to believe him, to trust the softness in his eyes. but a voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is temporary, this isn’t real for him, and urges you to not fall for this trap. your mind plays over the past few weeks of turmoil between you. you recall every harsh word, every cold stare, and wonder if this moment of tenderness can truly outweigh all of that pain. is it worth risking your heart again?

“then i need you to explain yourself,” you say, pushing his hand away. “tell me why you’ve been like this with me.”

he sits up, taking a deep breath. “i’ve been so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head. “i think all these years of working at a restaurant kind of roughed me up. i think i built these walls to try and prove myself in the industry, to prove something to myself. and it made me become someone i don’t even like.”

he meets your gaze, seeing your anticipation for him to continue.

“and then i met you, and i still had these walls. i walked all over you and made you feel like shit. and what’s so fucked up about it is that despite that, i actually started to like you,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “i was scared. i’m still scared.”

you never expected him to be this vulnerable with you, let alone confess his feelings for you. you sit up and kiss him softly, intimately.

in that moment, the barriers between you begin to crumble. it’s not going to be easy, but for the first time, you find yourself on the same page.

“i don’t know what comes next,” you say softly. “but we can be scared together.”

a/n: guys i am so proud of this one! i hope i successfully portrayed the intensity between them. shit got my heart racing personally. again, im new to writing fics so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank u sooooo much ♡

edit: sadly there will be no part 3, but i will be releasing something new within the next week or so, so stay tuned 🫶🏻

✰taglist✰ @trinityhasjams @mxnsxngie @sooberryworld @mingtinysworld @spenceatiny18

[blank-potato]

You Cast A Spell On All My Nights And Days

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Witch!Reader

Summary:

“You could tear down cities with what’s inside you. But instead, you shackle it for people who will never understand it. Who will never understand you.” The implication is all too clear. “Who will never understand you like I do.” You tense. He wants something. Power, connection and most of all, you. “You don’t know me,” you spit back, as if to ward him off.  But he doesn't flinch, nor does he smirk. “I’d like to,” he responds, and it’s surprisingly soft. Or After your last encounter, The Void is still haunting your every thought, and you're still toying with one another. But, after a mission sends you spiralling, he gives you a nudge in the wrong direction.

Tags/Warnings: The Void is a bad influence and trying to bring you to the dark side (he's like 'Palpatine'-ing you), reader has arrived at manipulation station, Bob being cute, The Void being toxic but kinda sweet, little angst, reader's guilt/self-condemnation, no smut

WC: 3.0k

A/N: Title from Magic Ways by Tatsuro Yamashita again. This is part 2 of I Love The Girl With Magic Ways, linked below. I thought about writing smut, but then I didn't because I thought it was too soon, so I might write a final part with smut later idk

Part 1

✷✷✷

“You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I haven’t,” You answer before diving back into your fifth cup of coffee as Bob looks at you like you’re insane. 

He didn’t understand, if you wanted to beat The Void at his own game, you had to be vigilant. You had to deprive him of you, to make him want you that much more. Even if it meant staying awake so he couldn’t snake his way into your mind while your defences were down. 

“Ready to…” You take a particularly long blink, “... train?”

Bob thought it was kind of cute, the way you were still trying to act sharp, your head bobbing back and forth. But he was worried about you; he didn’t want to see you exhausted. “You need to sleep.”

“Sleep?” You scoff, flashing him a cocky grin. “I eat sleep for breakfast, Bob.”

Those words might’ve landed better if you weren’t, at that exact moment, sliding down the wall like a dying plant. You end up flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling, wondering when exactly it all went wrong.

Then you’re not on the ground anymore.

You blink twice before realising Bob is holding you, steady and strong as he lifts you without effort. You successfully defeat the urge to snuggle into his shirt and instead put your efforts into squirming.

“…I need to train you,” you mumble.

He just huffs a laugh, adjusting his grip.

“We can train once you can stand on your own two feet.”

He carries you back to your room, his movements gentle, like he’s afraid you’ll break. Bob always treated you with grace and care. Sure, he knew what you could do, but that didn’t stop him from trying to take care of you. Despite your cold exterior, he always seemed to find a way through; your walls weren't so high around him.

He doesn’t stop until you’re lying in your sheets, all snuggled up. They wrap around you like a warm hug from a cloud.

“My coffee…,” you mumble, a tired little whine escaping your lips.

“Sleep is better than caffeine,” he replies, tucking the blanket around you with a smirk.

You blink slowly, already fading, your limbs heavy, your mind lighter. But even as sleep pulls you under, you’re still aware.

The Void might be waiting for you the moment your eyes close.

✷✷✷

“You’ve missed me,” a voice says, and you know exactly who it is; exactly who can make themselves so at home in the darkness of your mind.

“You’re the one that’s invading my dreams,” you retort. Most times when you slept, you’d get a visit from him, warping your mind, sending you into twisted visions and half-buried memories, mostly bad. The kind you tried not to revisit during the day. He knew you wouldn’t do the same to him, for fear of hurting someone else. Sweet, innocent Bob.

It was unfair, the way The Void prowled through your subconscious like it belonged to him. The push and pull between you was too addictive to give up, but too exhausting to maintain. So even with a full night’s sleep, you often woke up feeling like you’d been dragged through a battlefield.

And still, you couldn’t deny you’d feel a flicker of disappointment if he didn’t show up. But you had to keep him chasing. You were winning…for now. 

“Well, maybe I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, the faintest curl of amusement in his tone. “Running after you is fun and all, but as I’ve told you before…”

You feel him before you hear the rest. His body pressing close, voice right against your ear.

“I don’t want to play games.”

You remain unaffected, or at least, you pretend to be, your expression unreadable. “Giving up?” you tease, smirking at him, even though your pulse betrays you, thudding hard beneath your skin.

“Changing strategies,” he replies smoothly.

And in the next breath, you're falling backwards, the darkness folding and reshaping itself into something softer. A bed of shadow and silk.

He's over you now, leaning in, his golden eyes aglow, scanning your face like a map he's trying to commit to memory.

"You—" you start to speak, but he silences you before the words can escape.

His thumb presses lightly to your lips, quieting you with a touch.

“Not now.” The air thickens. Heat building between your bodies as you arch slightly beneath him, even though you’re dreaming. It’s all too real. His hands press yours into the soft, shadow-formed mattress, anchoring you there. There’s no hiding from him now.

He can see everything. Every want, every fear. He always could, even though you ran and resisted, and he chased. He knew you’d end up here, your mind at his mercy.

You feel exposed, but not weak. No, being close to him feels like it’s charging you.

He lets out a soft, low chuckle against your jawline as he dips lower, mouth almost touching your neck, but not quite giving you what you need. 

"What did you say? Until I’ve had enough?” He throws your words from that night back at you, taunting, savouring the way you react. Maybe you weren’t winning anymore. 

You blink awake.

It’s dark.

Bob had taken the liberty of closing your blackout curtains, the soft grey light barely breaking through.  You flip on your desk lamp to see what he’d left you. There’s a tray beside the bed with bacon, waffles and a glass of orange juice, along with a sticky note, “Please eat!”, with a little lopsided smiley face drawn beside it.

Your heart squeezes. How could The Void possibly be part of someone so sweet?

���✷✷

It’s a shitty night after a shitty mission.

Everything went wrong, and worse, you let them get away.

You’re stewing alone in the silence, bitter and regretful. The team told you you did the best you could, that it wasn’t your fault. But whose fault could it be when you had them right in front of you? Deep down, you know the truth: if you’d just pushed a little harder, maybe you could’ve stopped them.

You don’t hear him approach. Just the soft weight of a hand on your shoulder.

His presence in the dark is warm and familiar now, but not quite comforting. 

“I’m not in the mood,” you say, short, clipped. But you don’t shrug him off.

He moves in front of you, gently turning you by the shoulders, trying to catch your eyes. You avoid him, but it doesn’t matter. He looks at you like he sees right through you. 

“You’re angry,” he says quietly.

“Great deduction skills, Sherlock,” you bite back.

There's a beat of silence as he winds up his response.

“And you’re ashamed of it,” He taunts. You knew exactly what he thought of your attempt at heroics, of your efforts to bury the rage, to smother it beneath ideals and restraint.

It was weakness.

He steps closer, his voice dropping into that dangerously tender register.

“You could tear down cities with what’s inside you. But instead, you shackle it for people who will never understand it. Who will never understand you.”

The implication is all too clear.

“Who will never understand you like I do.”

You tense. He wants something. Power, connection and most of all, you.

“You don’t know me,” you spit back, as if to ward him off. 

But he doesn't flinch, nor does he smirk. “I’d like to,” he responds, and it’s surprisingly soft.

You're far more used to the snark, his thinly veiled seduction. You were used to that, you knew how to combat that. But this? You didn’t know he was capable of this. 

He steps further into your space, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Anger isn’t something to hide from,” he says, his hands curling gently around yours. “It’s something to use.”

Your chest rises and falls as the emotion wells up, everything that went wrong today, everything you wanted to do better. The frustration, the doubt, the fear. You let it rise, no longer pushing it down. And with it, your magic surges, wild, untamed, swirling around both your hands in arcs.

It sparks against the air like a storm barely held in check.

Then you feel it, that whisper, that familiar chill brushing against your ear like breath.

“Beautiful,” The Void says.

✷✷✷

You can’t sleep.

Not after what you did today.

It was a mess, a mission gone wrong. You’d lost control of the situation, of yourself, and it’s eating at you. All you could think about on the quinjet to the mission site was the last time you’d failed. The fact that you failed meant that people got hurt.  And you weren’t going to let anyone get away next time, no matter what it took.

You curl in on yourself, wrapped in the hollow hush of your room. Hugging your knees to your chest, fists clenched tight against the fabric of your pants. You wanted to cry, to scream, to break something, but you wouldn’t let yourself. What would that fix? Instead, you just sit there, staring at your lamp like it might offer answers. Slow blinks. Breathing in silence.

When The Void appears, it’s not shocking. You’d almost expected him. Your guard isn’t completely down, but it is damaged. He takes in your diminished form and lets out a sigh. 

“Come here,” he says softly, the command barely more than a breath.

You say nothing. Just glare at him, lips pressed into a line, and roll your eyes with all the exhausted fury you can muster.

Then, before you can protest, you’re pulled out of bed in a blink of darkness and into his arms, your feet unsteady on the ground.

“Classy,” you mutter with a brittle voice.

But your resistance doesn’t last long, because it’s clear you’re in no position to fight. And he wasn’t looking for one either.

He tips your head up towards him, forcing you to look at him. In those few seconds of eye contact, he knew exactly what had happened. That’s if he didn’t already know before he even entered the room.

“You did nothing wrong.”

Of course, he’d say that. Of course, he would think that hurting someone meant nothing to him. He thrived on it. You flinch slightly, trying to step away, to put any distance between you and the guilt still clinging to your skin.

But he catches your wrists before you can push him away, his grip firm but not cruel. Just enough to stop you, and lets go as soon as he feels your body relax. 

He circles slowly, a predator at ease, until he’s behind you. Close enough that you feel the heat of him, or maybe the chill. Like a blanket draped over your shoulders.

Then, with no hesitation, he tugs the neck of your shirt aside, exposing skin. You’re on high alert, but you don’t stop him, wanting to know where this was going to go. 

He lays one slow, deliberate kiss to the nape of your neck. Your fist clenches and unclenches, as you try and ignore how that makes you feel. 

“You did nothing wrong,” he says again, quieter now.

Now he starts kissing the side of your neck, just the faintest brush of lips, like feathers on your skin. The danger danced in your mind, you knew what he could do, but you found yourself pushing it aside. He wanted to sink into his darkness rather than run from it. 

“If they cared about you, they wouldn’t ask you to hold back.”

You knew they cared. Bob. The others. They did. But the ache in you, the part that always felt restrained, twisted at his words.

“This is who you are,” he whispered.

The more logical part of your brain was screaming. Don’t listen, don’t trust him. But the rest of you, the part still vibrating from the taste of power…it was excited. 

“He begged… I… I didn’t have to hurt him like that,” you say, voice cracking, unable to be hidden.  You try to hold it together, he was the last person you wanted to catch you slipping. 

“But it felt good, didn’t it?” The Void adds. It’s like he’s reading your mind, everything you keep hidden now staring back at you. 

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the truth prickles under your skin. You know it did. That rush. That control. The sheer, terrifying ease of it.

“He’ll never be the same.” You look down at your hands, as if they still held the echoes of what you’d done. It had come so easily, forcing him to his knees, hearing the screams that tore from his throat, twisting his mind until he didn’t know which way was up.

The whole time, it felt like you could feel The Void all around you. Guiding your hands, not telling you where to push, but urging you to keep going until they broke. 

The Void is beside you now, his presence cold but intimate. “Don’t be afraid of what you’re capable of,” he whispers in your ear, the words curling into your soul. “Accept it.”

You bet he wanted to know you, to know what made you tick, what lit that fire behind your eyes, what shadows you kept buried beneath the surface. And you couldn’t lie, not to yourself: You were just as curious about him.

But this was a dangerous path.

The line between fascination and destruction would blur fast with someone like him.

He turns you around to face him, and as soon as you look at him, it’s electric. 

“Let me in.”

His voice echoes in your mind, it’s almost hypnotising. 

It’s not a demand, a request. He wanted you to come to him of your own will; he wouldn’t force you to walk this path, but he knew you would. Your pulse kicks in your throat. You could push him away, in fact, you should push him away. But your hands don’t move. Your body doesn’t pull back.

You just look up at him and say, “Why should I?”

“Because all the fear, and anger… and ugliness you’re so afraid of is beautiful,” he explains slowly. “It’s you. And I—” he pauses, shaking his head, like the admission costs him something.

“You’re the only thing in this world that’s ever made me want to stay.”

Looking up at the ceiling, he chuckles hollowly, almost as if he can’t believe it himself, “Isn’t that funny?”

When he looks at you, he sees power. Wild, untamed, aching to be unleashed. But more than that… He sees the restraint, the fear, the humanity you still cling to like a lifeline.

He wonders if he could strip it away.

You’re strong, he knows that. He’s seen it. But you’re human. And humans break. And he wants to break you.

Not out of cruelty or hatred. But because some dark, twisted part of him believes that if he broke you enough, if he shattered that stubborn sense of righteousness, he could have you to himself.

If you were broken, too, maybe you’d stop pretending. 

The silence stretches, the air between you shimmering like a live wire.

“You’re not going to say anything?” he asks. He didn’t want to wait for your words, but he was hanging on to each one. He hated feeling like this, being helpless in any way.

“I think I’m afraid of what I want to say.”

You watch as his signature smile curls its way onto his face before he says, “Then show me instead.”

His gaze is expectant but hungry. You were no less hungry than he was. With a flick of your fingers, you tug him closer with your magic, resting your hand over his heart. Staring into his golden eyes, less intimidating than the first time you saw them, and more beautiful now, in a way that made your chest ache. You still didn’t know what to make of him.

And maybe it was foolish… But you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

At first, he didn’t move. Like he wasn’t sure it was real.

You don’t even quite know how to describe it… like you’re melting into him, like the edges of you blur where he begins. You breathe in sharply, your hands start glowing faintly with power, against his back. It’s dangerous, some might consider it an abomination, but it was yours.

You pull back to look at him, the magic flowing between the two of you; you’re close. Too close. Close enough to kiss.

“You really want this? Me?” You ask firmly, despite your reservations. Being vulnerable didn’t come easily to you, but something about him made you want to risk it all. 

“I do.”

His eyes are already on yours, dark and hungry but patient, like he knows he doesn’t have to rush. You aren’t sure who’s leaning in first, but suddenly you’re kissing him, deeply, fiercely.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping like you’re afraid he might vanish if you let go. He pushes you back against the wall, his hands exploring your body with need and desperation. It’s rough and consuming, like you can’t get enough of each other, like the kiss is the only thing keeping you alive. The tension that’s been building between you ignites, and the room answers with it.

The overhead lights flicker and spark, surging with the wild thrum of your power. Somewhere in the background, glass fractures with a soft crack, unable to hold the pressure of what you’ve unleashed together.

Still, neither of you pulls away.

You didn’t trust him.

Not with your mind, and definitely not with your soul.

You’re not even sure your heart would allow it. But you wanted him, it was undeniable, a fact at this point. Every part of you, from the twinkle in your eyes to the power at your fingertips, you wanted him. And some twisted, dangerous part of you didn’t care what it might cost.

He made you feel alive.

Main Masterlist || Marvel(Thunderbolts) Masterlist

[babejinxy]

In love with you - part 7

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

You woke up the next morning and slowly opened your eyes. You were with your body facing the back of the couch, your arms were curled up on your torso and your right leg was between Powder's legs, who was facing you, her left hand was below her head while she had her right arm around your waist. She was still sleeping peacefully, with her lips half open and light breathing, which blew on the back of your neck and tickled you. You smiled as you remembered the events of the previous night and slowly shifted your position so that you were facing her, taking great care not to wake her. Powder shifted a little as you slowly pulled your leg from between hers, but she didn't wake up.

You watched her sleep for a few minutes while you thought about everything that happened. Powder was your best friend, she knew everything about you, she knew your darkest secret to your most beautiful dream, she knew you down to your last hair and you would trust her with your life, so why wouldn't she be the right person for you to trust your heart to? For the first time in your life you weren't feeling incomplete, Powder was there.

You reached out to brush her bangs out of her eyes and before you could pull your hand away, Powder took her arm from around your waist and held your hands that were on her face. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” you said softly. “I’m not awake, I’m still dreaming,” she whispered with her eyes closed, caressing your hand. “Then it’s a good dream,” you whispered and brought your face closer to hers, kissing her on the lips. “Did you feel that? It’s so real,” you whispered as you pulled away from her. “I’m still having trouble knowing what’s a dream and what’s real babe, I think I need more,” she whispered, her beautiful husky voice breaking a little.

You smiled at her boldness and lifted your head from the pillow to get closer to her face again. Powder felt anxious to have your lips on hers again and when you brought your face closer to hers, you closed your eyes and slowly brought your mouth closer to hers. The tip of your noses touched each other's cheeks and you kissed her again. This time Powder kissed you back, closing her lips between your lower lip. You were kissing very slowly and the only sound in the workshop was the kisses of your lips dancing together. Powder put the tip of her tongue on your lips during the kiss to deepen it a little more, but keeping the rhythm slow, and you let her tongue touch yours. She let go of your hand and held your waist, caressing it over the white sheet that covered your naked bodies.

You pulled away from her lips and a string of saliva connected them to hers. Powder opened her eyes and smiled, “morning baby”, she said softly. “Morning love”, you replied laying your head on the pillow. “Did you sleep well?”, she asked still caressing your waist. “Sure, and you?” She showed her teeth in a smile, “like never before”. “Good,” you said quietly. Powder dragged her hand from your waist to your face where she caressed it with her thumb and then outlined your lips with her finger. “Beautiful… you’re beautiful anyway, so so beautiful,” she said and went back to caressing your cheek. “You’re beautiful too babe”, you said smiling looking into her eyes.

Powder brought her face closer to yours and looked at your lips before kissing you. You kissed slowly, your tongues meeting and touching each other softly. With a sudden movement, she laid her body on top of yours and put her left arm above your head on the arm of the couch, while she held your neck gently with her other hand. You opened your legs a little so she could fit between them and you sighed when her pelvis pressed against yours, separating your lips from hers. Powder took advantage and pulled your lower lip between her teeth gently but agonizingly slowly.

Powder released your lip and passed his lips over your chin, kissing it. The heat coming from your bodies together covered by the sheet mixed with the warm temperature of the room and it started to get difficult to stay that way. “Powder baby, it's so hot,” you said between heavy sighs because Powder was kissing hot, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck. You pulled the sheet off your bodies and Powder lifted her torso off yours just to help you take it off and you pushed it down with your feet.

“How about this gets even hotter, huh?”, Powder said kissing your lips and deepening the kiss with her tongue on yours, making you shiver. “Can I?”, she whispered with her eyes closed, brushing her lips against yours and moving her lips down to your neck. You closed your eyes and lifted your head on the pillow, giving her more space to kiss your neck, the good feeling of her lips on your skin made you lift the corners of your lips in a soft smile, “yes… yes you can, love”, you answered between sighs, the smile still drawing your lips.

You felt Powder's lips on yours again and you sealed them in a slow, hot kiss, your tongues tangling with each other. Powder slipped her right arm between your bodies and placed her hand on your bare, wet pussy and massaged it, separating your folds with her fingers, making you gasp between her lips. You spread your legs wider so she could have better access and bit your lower lip and then smiled at the good feeling of her slender fingers rubbing your smooth pussy. Powder slowly licked your bottom lip to your top lip and gently sucked on your tongue before kissing you again and you bit her bottom lip as she began to gently stimulate your clit.

“Mhmm that feels so good Pow Pow”, you said between sighs, smiling a little. “Shhh… I know babe, now focus on that and relax”, she said with her soft voice close to your ear, making you shiver. Powder made a trail of soft kisses from your jaw to your right breast and delicately kissed the entire length of it before running her tongue over your nipple and sucking it lightly. The slow and gentle movements of Powder’s fingers on your throbbing bud and her lips and tongue on your nipple were so satisfying and wonderfully delicious that they were even relaxing and you sighed and moaned softly at the sensation.

The blue-haired girl kissed the skin between your breasts and moved her kisses up to your lips again and kissed you for a while before separating her lips from yours and you smiled at each other. Powder lifted her torso a little off yours and slipped her fingers - already lubricated from your excitement - from your clit and slowly inserted them into your hole making you move a little, you sighed, moaning softly and closed your eyes at the feeling of her fingers filling you. Powder didn't take her eyes off you enjoying your facial expression responding to her touch and bit her lower lip.

The movement of her fingers moving in and out of you was slow, deep and smooth and she had you sighing quietly beneath her, sometimes you moaned softly as she curled her fingers inside you hitting that specific spot and it felt perfectly good. You held her face with both hands while she had her left arm resting on the arm of the couch above your head. Powder made sure not to miss any detail of your beautiful face, the way your mouth was half open, the way you bit your lower lip every now and then and how your lips stretched into a slight smile, your sighs and your low and soft moans every time she curled her fingers inside your pussy all of it was very satisfying to her.

Powder lowered her head and spread kisses across your face and you smiled before letting a little moan escape your lips which were also pecked by her, opened your eyes and they met hers and you two smiled.

You felt a wave of heat run from your foot to your head and your hole began to pulse rapidly and you arched your hips slightly, you were going to cum in minutes and Powder knew it too when you began to whimper and your walls began to squeeze her fingers. She curled her fingers inside you once more and then you felt a sensation of relaxation and pleasure run through your entire body.

Powder pulled her fingers out of your hole as you calmed your breathing. You closed your legs together and tried not to blush as Powder took her fingers coated in your juices into her mouth. You were never shy during sex, but with Powder it was different, you were feeling different, but it was the best feeling of your life.

“I love you,” she said, caressing your cheek with her thumb. “Good… because I love you too,” you took her hand that was on your face in yours and kissed it. Powder smiled just like you and intertwined her fingers with yours as she lowered her head to reach your lips.

You were enjoying the moment when you heard the workshop door open and Ekko's voice echoed through the place, "Powder? Are you here?" Your heart felt like it was going to come out of your mouth just thinking about being caught and you covered your mouth with your hand to keep from laughing. Powder put her index finger to her lips, signaling for you to be quiet. "Ekko... don't come in here, I can't right now," she replied, trying not to sound too apprehensive. "Is everything okay?" Ekko asked. "Uh-huh, I'm just... fixing some things, I'll call you when I'm done." Ekko shrugged and said before closing the door, "ok ma'am."

You and Powder started laughing in relief and then she lay down next to you on the couch and you intertwined your legs. “What did he want so early, anyway?”, you asked. “Hmm… it’s probably something about his project for the innovators competition, he’s so scared about it and it’s only next year”, she shook her head. “Or maybe he just wants to spend more time with you”. She sighed before saying, “maybe now he’ll wake up from this illusion”. You turned to the side to look at her, “imagine everyone’s face when they find out about us”, you laughed a little. “Hmm everyone’s crush dating her best friend? It’ll be fun… Mylo will have a heart attack”, she joked. “Oh poor Mylo”, you laughed.

You knew that the only thing you had to worry about was your family, more specifically your mother. For her, being friends with a Zaunite was tolerable, but dating someone from the Undercity was out of bounds. But you loved Powder and you wouldn't let anyone ruin that, not even your prejudiced family.

“Okay but now…”, Powder said climbing on top of you, “stop talking”, she whispered and crashed her lips into yours. You placed your hands on her chest and forced your torso on top of hers, inverting your positions, getting on top of her with your knees on either side of her on the couch. You both smiled before going back to kissing. Powder placed her hands on your waist, wandering down to your hips and up to your waist again, squeezing from time to time.

You took your lips away from hers only to say, “so that’s it… now we’re girlfriend and girlfriend?”, you laughed a little. “That’s exactly it babe”, Powder replied bringing her right hand to the back of your neck only to bring your head down and crash her lips on yours again. She pulled your lower lip and invaded your mouth with her tongue while she slid her hand down to your ass and squeezed the flesh making you gasp. You brought your left hand to Powder's left breast and massaged it, squeezing it a little every now and then and caressing her nipple, making her bite your lower lip in response. Powder lifted her left leg a little and pulled you down by your waist against her thigh, she returned her hands to your ass and pulled you making your pussy rub against her thigh. A moan caught in your throat and you squeezed her breast a little harder before lowering your hand to her swollen bud and pressing it a little making her gasp into your lips, as she guided you to rub your wet pussy against her thigh again…

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

After your fifth orgasm in less than twenty-four hours, you and Powder washed up, put your clothes back on, and headed to The Last Drop for breakfast. Vender always opened the bar at 9:00 am, it was still a few minutes away, but Powder had a spare key. “Jeez, I’m starving,” you said, throwing your bag on the counter and walking in behind it as Powder locked the door. You turned on the coffee maker while Powder opened the fridge to get the eggs.

“Can we have pancakes?”, you asked with a pout. Powder turned to look at you laughing a little, “this is a bar babe, we don’t have pancakes”. You clicked your tongue while rolling your eyes, “we have eggs…”, you pointed to her hands holding the eggs, “and milk in the fridge, butter, flour and sugar”, you said counting the ingredients on your fingers, “can you make pancakes for me, please babe?”, you asked with puppy eyes. Powder smiled giving in, “Ok if you want to eat pancakes, you’ll eat pancakes.” You smiled and pecked her lips.

Since you were a disaster at cooking, Powder prepared the batter for the pancakes while you washed and cut the strawberries and raspberries. You two talked about random subjects and laughed when one of you said something too silly. You loved these light and relaxed moments with Powder, she was your best friend and now your girlfriend too and you wanted to keep that forever, you loved each other and no one could take that away from you.

The bar door opened and you both looked up to see Vender walking in. He looked at you two in surprise. “Morning, girls,” he said softly, walking over to you both. “Morning,” you both replied in unison, relaxed. “I didn’t know we hired a new employee,” he said jokingly to you as he approached. You laughed, “nobody cuts strawberries like me, I’m a great professional.” Vender laughed and looked over Powder’s shoulder as she was finishing the pancakes. “And I didn’t know we had pancakes either,” he gave her a soft smile. She pointed in your direction - who was with your back to them finishing the strawberries - making Vender laugh again.

“I met Ekko on the way, he was worried about you Powder, he said he went to the workshop and you didn't want him to come in, he said you seemed a little apprehensive... but I think everything is apparently fine, right?”, he said arranging the drinks for the shift. There was something he wanted to insinuate behind the tone of his voice that made you and Powder exchange awkward glances. “Oh… yeah, it’s okay,” she replied, walking over to you and reaching for the bowl you had placed the cut fruit in. “Ekko is such a chatterbox,” she said in your ear before returning to where she was assembling the pancakes and throwing the strawberries on top of it.

Vender approached Powder and looked at you - who was distracted by putting away the remaining strawberries - he turned to Powder and asked quietly, even though he already knew the answer, "did you talk to her?". Powder looked at him with a silly smile on her lips and nodded. He winked at her and smiled softly, "that's my girl", he patted her on the shoulder before going back to what he was doing.

You finished the pancakes and left some for the old man. The two of you were going to the table, but before you did, Vender said, “Enjoy the pancakes Y/n, an exclusive dish for our special client”. You smiled, “and this is my favorite bar”, the three of you laughed a little and you didn’t notice when Powder looked back giving him an affectionate smile, kind of in gratitude for having given her a “little push”. Maybe if it weren’t for him, the two of you wouldn’t be in this position now.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You grabbed a table and Powder sat next to you as usual. “I forgot something, I’ll be right back baby,” she said, standing up. You took a sip of your coffee and grimaced, realizing that you had forgotten to add sugar. You were going to signal for Powder to bring sugar, but before you could, you felt someone approach you and place their hand on the back of your chair, their fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. “The coffee is really too bitter for a sweetie like you,” you knew that voice, it was Gert. You looked at her, but didn’t know what to say, so she continued, “What happened, beautiful? I haven’t found your pretty face anywhere since my shift ended last night, where have you been?” she asked, looking from your face, to your cleavage and even your legs - exposed where the mini skirt didn’t cover - crossed under the table. Maybe if your hair wasn’t covering it, she would see two or three hickey marks that Powder left on the side of your neck…

part 8 coming soon ✨

[kpopsexstories]

NCT 127 Dating Ban #1: Haechan

NCT 127 can’t date girls. As their gay friend you help them out with their sexual needs.

This is a 100% gay smut story. Check out this post for my straight smut and this post for more gay smut.

Want more stories like this one? Also read the NCT Dream Dating Ban series which takes place before the 127 series.

Pairing: NCT Haechan x Male Reader

Story: Haechan begs you to come for a visit and have sex with him again.

Type of Sex: MEDIUM

Word Count: 2.2k

It's been six months since you last had sex with Haechan. There have been times when you've rolled your eyes and regretted that you gave him your number. Not really though, because at the end of the day you find his pushy eagerness quite adorable.

He's been on you about coming to see him and meet his friends from 127, though he usually only texts you when he's horny, which to be fair is often. Flirty messages, pleads for you to come in every sense of the word, and desperate attempts to have sex again. It can't be easy when you're famous and can't go on dating apps like regular people. You’ve learned better than most.

At times you've played along with his games, when you've been horny too. You've been sexting, and your phone is full of pictures of Haechan's naked body, video snippets of his dick, and endless chats about how good it felt when he last fucked your ass.

Most of the explosive content was unsolicited, but not all. And you've sent him stuff too. He's told you all about the dating ban the company has imposed on the boys and his sexual frustrations are obvious.

Then one day you decided to just to it, to come and help him out like he begged you to. It was a spontaneous decision. Now you're riding the elevator up to the NCT 127 dorm, excited about the reunion but also nervous about meeting his friends.

You can't wait to see what the week with them might have in store for you. It’s sure to be a great one.

Haechan is happy and giddy when he opens the door. He's been waiting for you, purposefully stayed home to greet you. He welcomes you back and gives you a long hug and invites you in.

You quickly learn that he's alone and that actually comes as a relief. You're tired from the trip and you'll be introduced to his friends in good time.

“They're at work,” he explains. “But us dreamies have a break after our last promotion. Mark is with his family, he'll be back before you leave though.”

You chit-chat in the living room of the vast apartment. The 127 boys each have their own room. There are two bathrooms, a kitchen and a communal area with a fancy couch and big screen TV.

There's nothing sexual at all between you during this first half hour in his second home. Just two friends hanging out and catching up. But you won't even make it an hour before sex is on the table.

“Come on, I'll show you where we'll fuck,” Haechan says and gets up from an armchair next to the couch. ”Sleep, I mean sleep! My bed. I'll show you my bedroom.”

He suddenly seems nervous and concerned but is able to laugh about it. You're amused by how silly the man is acting around you which helps him feel relaxed. You might not know him that well, but you have sucked his dick after all.

The bedroom is small but has a desk, a window, a queen sized bed in the corner, and a spacious closet. “It's not much,” Haechan says and sits down on the bed. “But it's more than I need as long as I’m single. I hope you don't mind sharing.”

You leave your suitcase along the wall by the door, then go to sit beside your friend.

“Not at all,” you say cheerfully and throw yourself backwards on the mattress. No more words are needed. “So… This is where we'll fuck huh?”

Haechan turns to look at you. You smirk, only teasing him. But the atmosphere between you suddenly shifts.

You smile affectionately at each other. He leans down over you and you kiss. It's been clear from the start why you're here. Six months later and it's like no time has passed at all.

Vivid memories suddenly return in your head. Images of sex, lust, dicks and orgies. You wonder why you haven't returned to your famous friends sooner.

The kiss turns into a make-out session. Things escalate quickly. There's plenty of evidence on your phone that Haechan has been longing for this moment for a long time. Now that you're here he simply can't keep his hands off your body nor you off his.

He slides inside your shirt and rolls into your arms. Your lips make a low smacking sound as they touch, and the make-out session intensifies when he squeezes your side and begins to grind his body against yours. As the kissing becomes more passionate the sounds grow louder and he begins to moan.

He's horny as hell, incredibly hard for you. You can feel the shaft though his sweatpants. When your hand glides inside his shirt too, he quickly sits up to take it off, only to come crashing down on you again like he hasn't seen another human being for months.

He lands on top of your body and you spread your legs for him, while feeling his bare back and spine all the way down to the seams of his pants. He grinds on top of you, squirming and rubbing his soft skin against yours. All without either of you saying a word.

His hand wanders up your side and to your armpit, and your shirt goes up along with it. As your bodies touch and the weight of the man is pressing down on your crotch, you get so intensely horny that pre-cum is already making you wet.

“Mm, fuck,” you exclaim when a strong sensation runs through your body. You can feel Haechan's grin when his lips press against yours.

His grinding motions grow larger. “Mm, mm,” he moans softly.

Your hand glides over his ass, then slips inside his pants and underwear in one go. You squeeze the soft cheeks lurking underneath them, and when you realize you're about to get naked together already, you think to yourself, this is why I came.

When your shirt is up to your neck you raise your upper body, prompting Haechan to briefly take the weight off you and give you some space. You take the shirt off, and before you know it he's sitting between your legs, tugging at your pants to make them go down.

You glance at his stomach and the v-line clearly visible above his low-hanging sweats and briefs. You raise your ass, helping the man to yank your clothes off completely.

Your dick is freed and Haechan's smirk goes away. He opens his mouth and his eyes become full of desire. He pulls his own pants down, and soon you have the same look on your face when his long cock waves in the air above you.

“The dating ban is killing me,” he says, his voice drenched in sexual desire.

“Really?” you pant and raise your eyebrows. You pull him closer, equally eager to help him deal with his frustrations, and smile. “I couldn’t tell.”

It takes a few moments of passionate shuffling around for the both of you to get fully nude. You suddenly wonder when the others will return, and realize that you've left the bedroom door wide open.

Who cares? It doesn't matter. You're home alone, horny as hell, naked in Haechan's bed. There's only one thing that's really on your mind, and if Haechan isn't worried then neither are you.

You're so ready to feel his beautiful dick inside you again. Haechan's long wait is finally over.

*****

Haechan has been pounding you for a while in various positions when he eventually reaches his peak and goes over the edge. You're on your back with your knees folded around him and legs spread, while he's gliding in your arms and hammering his pelvis lustfully against your thighs and ass.

You stroke and squeeze his back and upper arms. His hands glide up and down your sides. The bed shakes, the mattress squeaks, and he's moaning and groaning while his dick goes in and out of your hole.

“Ahh, fuuuck!” he shouts.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck my ass,” you moan.

“Ahh, ahh, FUUUCK!”

He grinds his teeth and shuts his eyes hard when he comes. “Uuhhrgh,” he gurgles from his throat, and you can feel his dick pulsating as the load is unleashed inside you. “Mm, mmhpfh, fuuuck!”

His hand is holding on to your leg so hard it almost hurts. But the release is quick and effective, and he relaxes his muscles before he's even finished emptying himself.

His hard thrusts gradually decline in strength and size. He opens his eyes and you lovingly look at each other. He bursts out in a huge but temporary grin, before he jolts and thrusts hard and deep inside you a few last times: “Humpfh! Ahh! Ahhhh!”

He starts to breathe deeply, heaving over you while he recovers from the powerful orgasm and long overdue physical connection. “Ahhhh, ahhhh, yeaaahh.”

You start to relax too, your knees unfolding and legs slipping down the sides of Haechan's hot body. “Feel better?” you ask and the smirk returns.

“Much,” Haechan says and smiles wide. “Thank you.”

The sex is hardly over when your intimate moment is suddenly interrupted. “Holy fuck!” a voice says somewhere behind your friend. He panics, abruptly pulls away from and out of you, and rolls off your body and onto his side.

You look in the direction of the door, which until now has been hidden from view behind Haechan's towering shoulders. You immediately recognize the stunned faces staring right back at you.

Johnny and Jungwoo are standing in the doorway, mouths wide open and eyebrows raised high on their long faces.

“Daaamn,” Jungwoo says, echoing the sentiments of Johnny's initial reaction.

Haechan grabs a pillow and puts it over his still hard cock. “What the fuck guys?” he bellows.

For a few seconds that feel like an eternity no one says a word. You hide your face behind Haechan, but he's far from enough to cover your naked body.

“What- what's this?” Jungwoo asks.

“That was so hot,” Johnny says before Haechan can respond.

Haechan answers with another question: “When did you get back?”

Johnny stares at him, and a faint smile appears on his lips. “We never left,” he says while studying your exposed torso.

This is not how you imagined meeting Haechan's friends for the first time. But what's done is done and there's nothing you can do about it now. And as the shock settles, both Haechan and the two men in the door seem surprisingly casual about the whole thing.

There's nothing else to do than to shake it off and act like everything is fine. But to you, who don't know the guys at all but also feel like you know everything about them, it's still a nerve wrecking experience.

Haechan sits up straight but doesn't remove the pillow. You scoot higher up behind him, using his body for protection. Johnny and Jungwoo's postures change, and they appear more casual as they both take a step closer.

“So?” Johnny asks. ”Who's this?”

He's actually asked that question once before, six months ago, but you're not surprised he doesn't remember. You just passed each other in the street and he had no time to stop for a chat.

“Ehm, this is my friend I told you about. He'll be staying for a week.”

“Yeah, we figured,” Jungwoo says and smiles wide. He approaches the bed with determination and extends an arm and hand. “Hi.”

You slowly sit up, peaking out from your hiding place, but cross your legs and pull some sheets over your lower half.

“Hi,” you say and take the hand. “Sorry, it might have cum on it.”

It doesn’t and you don’t know why you said it. Jungwoo doesn’t seem to mind.

“Nice to meet you,” Johnny says politely, as if this is just like any friendly and formal first introduction.

“You too,” you say and look him in the eye while smiling wide to put up a facade.

“We should leave them to it,” Jungwoo suggests when he lets go of you, then gently pushes his friend on the shoulder. The show is over anyway and you’ll have to wait to come another time. Haechan will certainly return the favor tonight.

“Listen, guys,” he says when the two men begin to walk away. “Please don't tell the others about this.”

“Okay,” Jungwoo agrees. ”Don't worry, we won't.”

Johnny nods and smirks but makes no verbal promises. Haechan – and you – will just have to trust them.

They leave and close the door behind them. When they're gone you look at Haechan with a straight face, wondering what he's thinking and feeling in this moment, and whether you should be laughing or crying about having been caught.

“Why not?” you ask.

“I haven't told them how we met,” Haechan admits.

There's a moment of silence between you. Then you both burst out laughing. Yeah, it's going to be a fun week for sure.

[creepycranberry]

Crying during sex (3)

Bob Reynolds x reader

Plot: Bucky gives you a job working for the team and you’re faced with an old friend who would give anything to prove himself to again

Warnings: drugs, abuse, references to SA, alcohol, cussing, mental health issues, parental issues, sex, soft smut (in this chapter), references to neuropsychiatric issues, angst, not proofread. Brief Depiction of SA, please take care of yourself. Do not read if you have a hard time with such topics.

Pt 1 Pt 2

A/N: last part of this, thank you for reading <3

“Something overwhelming, something everlasting.”

————————————————————————————————————

Bucky came back by your room hours later to find Bob sitting at the end of the bed, watching you paint.

Bob hadn’t seen you paint much, you used to draw a lot in class and when he would sit with you while you did your homework and there’d be little doodles in the margins. But you were really very good at painting. Your eyebrows creased when you were concentrating, and your hands moved with purpose, like you’d practiced which ways to move to make your lines come out clean.

“How’re you doing, kid?” Bucky asks and you look up, a smile breaking on your face once you see him.

“I’m okay, look!” You held up the canvas to show him what you were doing. The painting was half done, half just drawn reference. It was a rendering of one of the magazine covers of the team.

“That looks great kid,” Bucky had seen your art before, he knew you were good but every time he saw something else you did he was slightly taken aback, “maybe when you’re done with it we can put it in the living room or something.”

“Okay.” You smile.

“Bob? You okay?” Bucky asks, noticing the faraway look on bobs face.

“I’m fine. She ate all of her breakfast, then took a nap, then ate a sandwich. She’s had like two water bottles.” Bob informs him, his eyes not leaving her hands as he tracked their movement.

“That’s great, are you feeling okay?”

“I'm alright. If she’s alright, I’m alright.” Bob smiles, looking at you in a way Bucky can only describe as complete adoration. Bucky wasn’t sure what it meant when you told him that you and Bob had a past but he has a feeling his instincts were right.

Because just looking at the two of you, he can see the pure love radiating from the both of you.

———

Bucky and the others left for another mission days ago and you were going stir crazy. No team meant no one needing help and no one needing help meant that you had absolutely nothing to do.

Bob was watching you pace in the living room, his eyes following you like you were the ball in a game of ping pong.

“Why can’t you just enjoy your days off, again?” He asks, resting his face in his hand.

“I’ve enjoyed like four off days and now I need something to do.” You pout, falling next to him on the couch.

He moves your hair out of your face, smiling at you amusedly.

“This isn’t funny.” You insist and Bob laughs, shaking his head.

“Oh, I know. It’s very serious.”

You stare up at him with feigned offense and a reluctant smile you can’t quite hide, “I’ve been cooped up in this tower forever.”

“Do you want to go somewhere?” Bob asks, leaning his head back against the couch cushions.

“Where is there to go?” You remark, reaching up to fix Bob's hoodie strings.

While the two of you had silently agreed to take things slow with your friendship, you both couldn’t help but return to your original close physicality. Bob didn’t try to claim your time the same way he used to, he slept in his own bed but made it known to you that you were welcome to come get him if you needed him. You didn’t pry into Bobs mind and life the way you used to but you supplemented your usual questions with affectionate actions and long amused stares when he gave long winded explanations to the plots of his books.

You enjoyed being able to lean on him again, no matter how hesitant you were to believe that he would stay with you in the long run.

“You’re in New York, there are plenty of places to go.” Bob reasons, tracing the lines of your collarbones with the tip of his finger.

“Yeah? Like where?”

“There’s a good book store a couple blocks away.” He suggests and you sit up.

“Can we walk?” You ask.

“We’re in New York and neither of us have a car.” Bob retorts.

“Hey, at least I have my license.”

Bob doesn’t seem to have a come back, instead he just sticks his tongue out at you earning him a bubbly laugh.

The sidewalk is crowded, you keep getting pushed to the side. everything.

Bob leads the way, his finger hooked into a belt loop on your jeans.

Once the both of you get to the book store you follow him down the aisles as he looks, he finds a book and sits there by the shelf to read the first chapter or so.

The lack of conversation happening doesn’t feel forced, it feels natural. You sit next to Bob, reading the book over his shoulder. It’s some kind of book on psychology. The first few pages touch on memory and how the brain stores information.

Bob seems to decide against it and puts the book back and heads to a different shelf, you trailing behind him. He goes to the fiction section and grabs another book, sitting on the floor again and you sat with him.

He finds another book and does the same thing. Sitting to read on the floor and you sit next to him again, leaning over his shoulder to read along with him.

He does that two more times before he finds a book he wants to read and turns to you. He follows you aimlessly. Trusting you to lead him to the ends of the earth if necessary.

You go to the memoirs section, combing through various shelves and finding something to sit down with. Bob reads over your shoulder, his chin lightly resting on you.

You stand up after a minute, looking around more, smiling and then holding up Just Kids for him to see.

“You could finally get your own copy.” You tease but instead of smiling and brushing it off he goes a little still.

“I have my own copy.”

Your eyebrows knit together, “you do?”

“Yeah. I got it like a year or three after you left.” He’s suddenly very interested in his hands, averting his gaze so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes, “I did meth and wandered around… somewhere, Dallas maybe? And um- I thought I saw you and so I followed you for blocks and blocks for like an hour and you disappeared into a big half price books. I did laps around it for like two hours before I realized you weren’t actually there. So I asked that guy at the desk if they had the book. Apparently I was lucky because they just got it in and normally they go really fast.”

You stare at him for a long time, “Bob-“

He’s like a faucet. It’s like once he let go of the one piece of information, now he has to give you all of it, “I came back for you after that, I tried to find you. I even got your moms address but I was- I was doing bad and I was worse off than ever. And I knew that even if I found you, you might not forgive me. And if I got better and committed to being sober and you didn’t forgive me than I- than I forfeited having you the way I did. I couldn’t sit with you under a bridge somewhere in any city in the world and fall asleep feeling like you were there if I ruined how I saw us.”

It’s not a grand confession of love but it feels like it. It feels like he’s laying everything on the line to tell you this, to tell you that he loved you and he has forever.

You think about where you were mentally at that time. You were in your first year of college after taking a gap year, you were having still spells multiple times a week, you were exhausted and bitter and a mess. You were a mess he made of you.

You probably would have broken his heart quicker than you could think about it.

“I’m glad you didn’t come to see me. I hadn’t softened yet. I wouldn’t have let myself see you how I do now. Though I wish you didn’t have to turn further into drugs just for me. You deserved more than I was at that point, Robert. You deserved patience, docility.” Your voice is so soft that it feels like pressure on all of him. It feels like you’re pulling something out of him slowly.

“You deserved more than I was too,” his voice is so sensitive, like it feels all of it, all of you, “even before I left, you deserved someone who was better than I was. You deserved someone who didn’t overindulge themselves because they couldn’t feel happy apart from you.”

Neither of you speak anymore. You trace your fingers over the spine of the book.

“I love you.” Bob says tentatively, like he’s checking to make sure he hasn’t fucked anything up with his transparency.

“I love you too, Robert.”

——————

Sleep was starting to come easier. Dreams didn’t feel as much like a threat as before, you weren’t afraid of the still spells. You've had pleasant dreams lately.

Dreams where you’re sitting with your mother or Bucky or Bob, and you’re just talking to them. You have dreams where you’re laying on your childhood bedroom floor, a record playing softly in the background as you stare up at the ceiling.

And you wake up peacefully, your eyes open and you breathe and it’s easy.

Which is why you’re so confused now. It had been weeks. You were okay, you were doing better. You thought you were doing better.

‘You’re doing so good.’

You’re stuck staring at the ceiling of an unfamiliar room, waiting for the pressure of his hands to stop, to go. You don’t know yet that this is wrong, you’re young, and sweet. You shouldn’t have to know that this is wrong.

Panic grips your tiny limbs but you don’t move, you stay as still as possible, holding your breath so you don’t have to smell it. The dampness of the room and the smell of his breath as it fans over you.

You don’t yell, or struggle, or cry. You just sit and wait for it to be done.

And then the door opens. And there’s yelling, the sound of a kind of impact and a grunt of pain, and you think you’re done, you breathe again.

And your eyes open and you’re in the tower, staring at the ceiling. And you’re breathing, you’re in your bed, the city lights glow through the windows. The world around you is still alive, you’re still alive.

So you close your eyes again, thinking sleep will be safe now.

But it’s not. You’re stuck there again.

And the scene plays out again but this time someone lifts you, someone saves you.

“You’re okay, it’s okay, we’re going home.” Your fathers voice says in your ear, his hands rubbing your back, “dads got you, you’re safe.”

And then you cry. You let it all out, your breathing is erratic and you’re hiccuping sobs, your body shaking from the force of all the emotions that hit you at once.

When you wake up you’re crying, you want your dad. You want to be held and safe.

The sun is rising, bearing witness to the wracking sobs that overtake you. You try to self soothe but it doesn’t work, you can’t stop.

“I want my dad.” You sob to yourself, “I need-“

You hiccup loudly, the air knocked out of you with force as you wheeze. You’re sat up in your bed, your knees to your chest as you try and remember how to breathe.

There are footsteps in the hallway, a light turns on and your bedroom door opens.

Buckys standing there, his hair mussed from sleep or a workout but his eyes are honest and solely focused on you, “hey kid, what’s going on? What’s happening?”

Bucky sits with you, pulling you into his shoulder, shushing you rhythmically like you’re a child. He rocks back and forth, telling you to breathe.

“You’re safe. You’re okay.” Bucky mutters into your hair, “nothing can hurt you here, I promise.”

Your breathing slows but you can’t stop crying. You turn your face into bucky's shoulder so he can’t see your face.

——

Bob stood in the doorway. He’d been the one to get Bucky. He had woken up and couldn’t sleep anymore so he went to make himself some tea, maybe sit in the living room and read until everyone woke up.

But then he heard you. He couldn’t tell you were crying at first but he heard you ask for your dad, so he went and got Bucky, who was already awake and in the gym.

And now he sat and watched as Bucky calmed you down, waiting until you were okay to go and sit at the end of your bed.

“Bob.” You gasp, reaching for him like a lifeline.

He doesn’t understand what’s going on, he can’t tell why you’re crying but given how pensive and tense Bucky is, he feels like Bucky probably has an idea, like this has happened before.

“You hungry?” Bucky asks you, smoothing strands of your hair down your back, you shake your head, your forehead resting against bobs chest, “I’m gonna go get you some water. Are you okay here?”

“I’m okay.” You croak, your voice thick.

Bob sits with you in silence, listening to your breath shake as you inhale and exhale slowly.

“What happened?” Bob asks quietly.

“Just-just a bad dream. A really bad dream.”

Bob ends up staying with you the whole morning, you don’t talk much. Bucky brings you water and you sip on it, staring out of the windows.

Your mom calls you an hour later, probably because Bucky called her.

He’s started doing that when he feels like he’s out of his depth. Sometimes it makes you feel a little pathetic because you’re well into your twenties.

You don’t stay on the phone with her for long. She makes sure you’re okay, Bob hears her apologize about three times, he thinks he can hear her crying.

When the afternoon rolls around none of the team come to bother you or ask for help. Bob just stays in your room, sitting by the windows and reading a book.

“I’m sorry about that, I don’t mean to freak out like that.” You say later, Bob looks up from his book.

“You don’t have to apologize. It happens to all of us. Even Alexei, even Walker.” Bob assures you, “what happened in your dream?”

You don’t answer for a minute and Bob prepares to take the question back, “when I was younger, a kid, my mom had this relative who was always at her moms house for some reason. We were over there for some holiday and I needed a nap so my mom put me down to nap in the guest room.” You exhale shakily, trying to thin out the odd feeling in your throat, “and that relative came in while I was sleeping and- and my dad came in to check on me and caught him.” The air leaves bobs lungs, he feels a pressure on his chest, “I didn’t remember it, my brain blocked it and my dad didn’t like talking about it so I didn’t know until I was seventeen. When we-“

“Oh. Oh my god.” Bob feels remorseful and angry and horrible, “holy fuck, I’m- I’m sorry, I- fuck.”

“That tends to be the normal reaction.” You shrug, “I’ve been to therapy, I’ve worked through it and all of that bullshit but sometimes it catches me off guard.”

“Wow. Shit. That’s- does Bucky know?” Bob asks, his book long forgotten, sitting in the floor next to him.

“Yeah. My mom told him when she was drunk once. After it happened my moms mental issues got worse, she couldn’t be present, my dad couldn’t deal with the both of us and he had to prioritize me so they divorced, she moved in with her brother in Louisiana, my dad got full custody.”

“Then why was your dad so distant? That doesn’t make any sense? You needed him.”

“He had a hard time talking about it. I think he blamed himself, and I didn’t remember so he just couldn’t bring himself to tell me.”

“Holy shit.” Bob curses. He keeps cursing, at a certain point you think he’s just putting it on but really he has no idea what else to say.

It’s only when you start laughing that he starts being dramatic, getting creative and more outrageous if only to make you laugh more.

“You don’t think I’m like totally pathetic or like damaged goods now right?” You ask after a minute.

Bob stands up and sits in bed with you, moving the hair out of your eyes with a satisfied smile on his face, “I still think you're an angel. I think you are way too good to have anything to do with me. I don’t think anyone could ever think of you as damaged goods.”

You smile, your cheeks flushed red and your nose scrunching at his sincerity, “you’re such a schmuck.”

“Only with you.” Bob pokes your side and you instinctively jump away from him like he just electrocuted you.

“You suck.” You laugh.

“No. You love me.” Bob teases.

“I mean, yeah. But you still suck.”

“You’re cute.” Bob blurts, he looks like he didn’t mean to say it.

“You too.” You say nonchalantly.

Bob leans back against your headboard, his fingered running lines up and down your arm. His eyes are intent on you, you try to avoid his gaze but you can’t help it, you’ve spent your whole life searching for the feeling you get when your eyes meet his.

You lean forward, letting your fingers trace the arch of his eyebrows, and the cupid's bow of his lips. His eyes close instinctively, enjoying the feeling of your touch.

He doesn’t realize you’re leaning forward until your breath fans over his face, his eyes flutter open, immediately finding purchase on your lips.

“Are you sure?” He mutters to you and you nod.

“I miss you.” You reply back to him.

“You have me.” His hand is on one of your hips, pulling you closer to him until your lips move over one another.

He hums into you, pulling you closer to him, one hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you pressed to him. You make a sort of high breathy noise that has him reeling immediately.

His hands move down your shoulders, to your waist, arms fully wrapping around you to pull you into his lap. When the both of you come up for air he holds you to his chest, your forehead rests on his shoulder.

After a moment he seems to find his voice, “is it weird that we did that after how this conversation started?”

“How did this conversation st- oh. I- honestly I forgot what we were talking about the second you called me an angel.” You confess, pulling back to look at him, clear eyed and smiley.

“You like that?”

“I’ve always liked it when you called me that. Did you not know?”

“I never really thought about it. It just came naturally.” Bob tells you, kissing your forehead.

——————

Valentina had you running around like a headless chicken, getting booze from her supplier, picking up yours and the teams outfits for the night, dealing with caterers, etc.

Val was throwing a party at the tower, a sort of mixer to encourage certain a list clientele to become more familiar and personal with the team. Mel was dealing with the guest list and rsvps, along with making sure Val was on her best behavior.

By the time it’s time for you to get ready you’re bone tired, you just want to lay in bed forever but just when you’re contemplating faking a fatal illness Bob walks in, an untied bow tie in his hands.

“Can you help me figure this out?” He asks, holding the tie out to you like it personally offended him.

“C’mere.” You mumble, taking the tie from him. He stands still while you work it for him, stepping back to make sure it’s not too lopsided.

“Can you also help me with my hair? I’ve never had to look nice like this before.” You smile up at him, nodding.

He follows you into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid while you got out gel and a comb.

“Have You not started getting ready yet?” He asks you.

“I really don’t want to go. I’ve done so much today already.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Bob doesn’t sound too convincing, “I mean it probably won’t but I need someone to suffer with.”

“You can suffer with Bucky.” You assure him, combing his hair back.

“Please?” His blue eyes are hopeful and lovely and entirely too convincing.

“Fine.” You concede and he smiles, “stop moving, Robert.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, watching your concentrated face.

“Go see if you like it, I’m going to go change.” You sigh, leaving the bathroom to slip into your closet where the garment bag sits.

The dress was black, with a sweetheart neckline and thin straps. It fell to your feet. You looked around your closet, finding a simple pair of black pumps. You step out of the closet to sit on your bed so you could put the shoes on easier. When you look to the bed you’re met with Bob, whose gaze is tracing the lines of your silhouette.

“You look- wow. Really.”

“Thank you, Robert.” You grin, sitting next to him on the bed to put on your shoes. You get up to fix your hair, bobs eyes follow you around your room. You start fixing your makeup and he gets up finally, standing behind you in the mirror, innocently resting his head on your shoulder.

He watches you carefully, like he might implode if he lets his eyes drift.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbles to you, his breath tickling your ear.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You put on your earrings and his hands begin trailing down your silhouette, starting at the top of your ribcage and slipping down until his hands sit firmly on your hips.

——————

The beginning of the party was rough, trying to explain to Val that you weren’t her assistant took effort, especially when you were doing it at the same time as caterers are carrying trays of food in the stagger throughout the room every half hour.

Once the party was in full swing things got easier. The team was all accounted for, the party guests seemed charmed by Alexei, they were familiar with Bucky to some extent, they avoided Yelena who wasn’t putting in the least amount of effort to seem approachable and every time someone approached Ava she dissipated.

Bob had taken to following you around, watching you do your job and avoiding being approached by anyone. You did one more round to check on everyone before you snuck away to the balcony where it was quieter.

Naturally Bob followed you, not talking, just staying with you where he felt safe.

You appraise him, taking in his appearance. Him in a suit almost felt like a death sentence. His waist was eventuated and his hands looked almost edible as he fiddled with his cufflinks.

“Have I told you yet how handsome you look?”

Bob turns bright pink, his tongue peaking through his lips to wet them before he speaks.

“More or less.” He shrugs. You grin wide, holding your hand out for his. He takes it and pulls you in close, his fingers nervously tapping at your sides. You rest your hands on his shoulders, beginning to sway, “are you trying to dance with me?”

“Maybe.” You play coy and Bob smiles an easy, relaxed smile.

He grabs one of your hands and the both of you sway like that for a while.

Bob dips you unexpectedly and you hold onto him but you trust him not to drop you. He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. He grins against your mouth, hand splayed wide against your back while your leg is hooked into his other hand. You’re relishing in him, in the taste of him and the privilege it is to have him here. Strong and sturdy and holding you.

Let this be sweet. You pleaded, seemingly with god. That god you’d never believed in now something real in your mind, taking shape in the form of him and your calls and his responses.

————

Tag list: @my-name-is-baby @chimchoom

[saturnyo]

Call Me Castillo

Chapter 2 - Not On My Watch

Chapter 1

Pairing: Harry Castillo x Reader

Tags: @glitterspark @mallingcalling-blog

Summary: Harry, a powerful and cold CEO, is secretly obsessed with his executive assistant. He hired her against everyone's judgment and has fiercely protected her ever since—firing gossipers, stalking anyone who gets too close, and even donating to charities she loves in her name. He hides his feelings but is planning a bold move at an upcoming gala. It’s not just business anymore—he wants her, completely.

Warnings: Emotional repression, Power imbalance, Obsessive behavior

WC: 1.1k

Song choice: Earned it by The Weeknd

Harry's POV

I watched her walk out of the office after the meeting was over, half wanting her to stay and the other half wanting her to leave so I could hide my thoughts.

The way her eyes widened when I asked her to be my plus one was a sudden but adorable quirk of hers. Over the last two years, she's grown accustomed to my antics and demanding requests, completing them with ease. However, every once in a while, I can catch her off guard, and seeing her reactions fills me with a joy I almost forgot.

The first day she walked into my office was for her first round of interviews for the position of being my executive assistant. Typically, HR would handle the hiring and firing of employees, but for this, I wanted to oversee it myself. I needed someone who could be quick and efficient, and could take my orders and jot them down without requiring me to repeat them.

For most of the interviews, I didn't bother to look up at the applicant; I only stared at their CV and gauged who they were from that. But the moment she walked in, something drew me to peel my eyes away from the stack of papers. The scent of rose water and a hint of lavender hit my nose, and suddenly they became my new favorite.

"She was beautiful," I said to myself. My first thought was to notice the way she held herself, walking over to the imposing chair in front of my desk. Taking a peek at her CV, it wasn't what you would call "Executive Assistant" material, and I think she knew that—her determined eyes and her rigid posture- the first to stand up and challenge me.

Most shrink away in lure of getting fired or blacklisted from every financial firm in the city but her? No, it was like she was daring me to hire her and let her prove herself.

So I did

HR brought me more qualified candidates, plenty of them. But I wouldn't budge. It was either her or no one. Besides, I'm the boss — they had to listen.

She sits there in that office beside mine, just inches away every day, never late and always on time. I'll admit, sometimes I come up with random excuses to see her walking through the door, standing in front of me with that smile of hers that'll take your breath away.

I'm not sure when it exactly began. But I remember the first moment I saw her with Tobias Mulligan- the event coordinator here at the company. I walked past the break room on my way down to head for a client meeting during lunch when I heard her laughing. It was like pure music the way she threw her head back almost...cackling and not caring who heard.

I saw Tobias put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and instantly, I wanted to tell him he's fired. It caught me off guard. She was my assistant and nothing more, so why did I feel like I wanted to rip them apart and not let him anywhere near the building ever again. Later, I asked someone to give me a full report on Tobias, including where he lives, where he shops or goes to the gym, and who he is dating, if anyone.

He was taken, dating someone in Legal named Emmett, and had a dog named Mochi. All the other stuff I asked for was irrelevant once I found out everything else.

No one else understood. Of course they didn't.

All they saw was an underqualified girl with a less-than-properly detailed resume who got the job of my executive assistant. Rumors started, of course, all different, starting from being a nepo baby to actually sleeping with me to get the position. She didn't hear them; I made sure she didn't. Anyone who I found out made those rumors and snickered behind her back they were fired immediately.

I didn't tell her, not wanting to make her obligated to do anything in return.

Eventually, I made my way to the break room to escape the questions about finance reports and juggling four-way phone calls. Just wanted some bad coffee and donuts, even though I had a perfectly good mini fridge in my office stocked with all the things I like. Maybe it was a subconscious thought to go, hoping to see her there.

As I approached the door, I heard voices. Two women- quiet at first. I would have ignored it, but they mentioned her. Various words were thrown around. Cruel. Small. Slut. Bitch. Any derogatory name you could think of. I recognized one woman as Maria from Legal, but didn't care enough to identify the other.

"She probably slept with the boss to get the job."

That was the last straw.

"Unless you want to be unemployed and blacklisted from everywhere in the city, I suggest you don't speak her name ever again."

They both jumped at my sudden intrusion, as if they had just been caught cheating on a test. My reputation precedes me. It always did.

"M-Mr. Castillo-I'm sorry. We didn't-"

"No," I cut her off, voice low and cold. "That's enough."

I stepped further into the room, calm and quiet.

"She works harder than anyone else in this building and frankly, this entire company. She's earned her way here and not by the means you clearly think she did. If I ever hear another word of this, I can easily restaff your entire department by the end of the day. Do you understand me?"

I gave them both a look sharp enough to cut

They both looked at each other with fear. "Yes, Mr. Castillo".

I stood alone in the break room as their heels clacked against the floor, hurrying away at their already thin chance of keeping a job here. My jaw was tight, seething at the idea of someone dragging her name through the mud.

Slut. Charity Case. I heard it all. She didn't hear them, at least not most of them anyway- I got to them before she could. Fired them, blacklisted from every firm in the city and sometimes worse- in the state.

It was disgusting to see the amount of gossip people could spread to tear someone else down. Especially if they were jealous, but she earned her place at the table that they would fight tooth and nail for, running over whomever they could to get there. People like that don't deserve what she has.

I hated how they quickly dismissed her. Doubted her. Never once considering her own hours, she stayed past midnight to help me or any other department that asked for her assistance. She had a knack for anticipating what I needed before I asked, and that was rare- an actual skill. She made this business run smoother than any of the board could, and yet they still whispered.

And then there was I.

The media labeled me as cold and calculated. Distant, a serial womanizer, is breaking hearts across the country. I didn't care. Not until they brought her name into it.

She didn't need to be collateral.

I looked at my phone's calendar- the gala was still marked three weeks from today. I never liked going to them. High society is filled with people who pretend to be the prim and perfect image they present to the tabloids. And not the real, ugly versions behind the scenes. For charities and philanthropy, I primarily work behind the scenes, not needing the attention that often accompanies it.

It wasn't necessary for me.

I had already donated to various organizations for years, but there are some I support just for her. She's talked about them, whether it was in the break room with Tobias or idle talk on the phone with her mother. The walls are somewhat thin between my office and hers.

I donate them in her name.

I have a plan.

It's going to be a calculated risk, but I'm willing to take it.

[half-of-a-gay]

PLEASEE PART 5 OF SEV X MANAGER READER PLS!! we miss it

[A/N: Hi tiny people in my screen! HAPPY PRIDEEE!!!🌈 Hope you're having a good day/night wherever you are. I had a shitty exam today so i finished this as a consolation prize. Hope you enjoy it, looking forward to any feedback 😘 ... BTW I got some cool ideas/requests from you guys that I'll get to after my exams.]

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 ... Masterlist

PART 5:

Rugby player!Sevika x Team manager!Reader

After that night on your couch - after the tears and the clumsy honesty - you and Sevika made a quiet decision.  No grand declarations. No team-wide announcements.

You never really sat down to talk about what this was but you didn’t need to. The way she kissed you  when she left your apartment the next morning was answer enough. So from now on it would just be the two of you.

It wasn’t about hiding; it was about keeping what you had. Holding it close, where it felt safe. Yours before it could become anyone else’s business. Before opinions or rumors or sidelong glances had the chance to chip away at the quiet thing blooming between you.

So, you kept it to yourselves. And for a few weeks, it was sweet in a way that made your teeth ache. But Sevikas teammates weren’t blind, especially since they were already very aware of your situationship and are very invested in it.

They became very observant. They saw the way Sevika showed up early now and that she smiled more. Her lips would lift at the corners whenever her gaze got caught on you. And they teased her for it, of course. Relentlessly. Especially Ran. But she didn’t crack. If you wanted it private, she’d keep it private - even if it meant enduring Vi’s dramatic reenactments of how she imagined the confession scene went down and pretending like she didn’t scroll back through your texts during lunch breaks just to reread your emoji-laced commentary on your last hangout.

And oh god, the diner.

It becomes your favourite place.

Every Friday night, without fail, she picks you up in that beat-up car she refuses to upgrade, and you let her take you to the booth in the corner - the one that was the most hidden from any prying eyes, the one that used to belong to her and her mom.

Now it’s yours, too.

She always orders cherry pie. You try something different each week. She always ends up eating half of yours too.

The waitress winks at her when you slide in beside her instead of across.

“This one’s special, huh?” she asks one night, over the counter, while Sevika was just trying to pay for the pie in peace. She blushes so hard and nearly chokes on her own spit, her hands halting from counting out the bills.

You pretend not to notice, despite being within earshot. You definitely noticed and it definitely made your face warm too.

The nights that you didn’t spend in the diner you’d cook together. She’s big and clumsy in the kitchen, constantly bumping into drawers and low-hanging shelves. One night, you’re in her hoodie - barefoot, leaning against her kitchen island, stirring something in a pot and she slides behind you, wraps her arms around your waist, and rests her chin on your shoulder. She doesn’t say anything. Just breathes with you for a minute. You end up burning the garlic, too caught up in her. You blame her for it of course and she retaliates by flicking water at you from the sink.

The quiet mornings that follow those nights might be your favourite. Sevika is not a morning person. You learn this quickly. She shuffles out of your bed in bare feet, hair sticking in every direction, muttering about the “offensive volume” of the kettle. She glares at it like it owes her money. But she still always gets up to make coffee so you don’t have to, and brings it back to bed so you can both share a few more quiet moments together. She never says why.

You watch her settle back into bed with one of your mugs - that she’s claimed for herself - clutched in both hands, eyes half-shut, blanket sliding off one shoulder. She looks soft like this. Real. Untouchable in a way that has nothing to do with strength or arrogance and everything to do with safety. You crawl beside her and she lets her arm fall around your back like it’s the most natural thing to her.

There were more dates, too. Late-night walks. Sharing headphones on the train.  Sometimes she’d drive you out of the city just for a bit of quiet, windows down, her hand resting on your knee as the wind tangled her hair.

Movie nights at your apartment with cheesy movies she’d never admit to liking - but she stayed the whole time, curled up on top of you, with her face tucked under your jaw, mumbling about how “this scene was bullshit” but refusing to move. You’d just press a kiss to her temple as an apology for making her endure such horrors. Then you’d close your eyes too, and fall asleep there prepared to deal with the aching back for her.

Another time, she showed up at your door half-asleep, hoodie pulled over her face, mumbling about a “rough day” and her “shoulder acting up.” You didn’t even pretend to fight it. You just opened your arms. And she crawled in like it was her favourite place in the world.

At practice, you try to act professional. You keep your eyes on your planner or on literally anything that isn’t the way she stretches, sweat glinting across her collarbone, her eyes constantly flicking in your direction. You try to stay neutral but she makes it very hard without even knowing. She’d catch your eye from across the field and it was enough to make your chest tighten. She always looked away first, but you’d see the corner of her mouth twitch. Just a little. Like she was barely fighting a smile.

You didn’t touch where anyone could see. But when no one was looking?

A hand brushing yours under the bleachers. A kiss stolen in the hallway outside the locker rooms. The rush of her hand on your hip as she pulled you into the shadow of a stairwell and whispered something like “Hi, boss,” against your mouth before stealing your breath entirely.

Keeping things private was easy at first. You were good at being subtle about it. Or so you thought.

Because what you didn’t realize (even though Sevika was already very aware of this) was that the team had already guessed.

Or rather, the team knew. And they were not being cool  about it. For a while it didn't go further than the harmless jokes but they slowly became more and more curious and boulder as your relationship progressed. They didn’t know everything, but they knew enough. And the more Sevika avoided talking about it, the worse it got.

Ran led the charge, obviously. “So, how’s our favorite mysterious manager situation going?”

Vi snorted. “I swear she gets one flirty text and suddenly she’s jogging to warm-ups.” Ran leaned in, grinning. “Is that why you keep showing up smelling like a Calvin Klein store?”

Sevika scowled from her bench, towel around her neck, halfway through unlacing her cleats. “You’re all nosy as hell.”

“That means we’re right,” Vi sings, smug.

She didn’t rise to it. Not really. She just grunted, grabbed her water, and kept her head down.

But that made it worse, obviously.

“C’mon,” Ran drawled. “You’re glowing. Like, annoyingly happy. That’s gotta be at least second-base energy.”

“She won’t crack,” Vi stage-whispered. “I’ve tried everything. Emotional manipulation. Even puppy eyes.”

“She’s like a vault,” Ran sighed dramatically. “Stupidly loyal. It’s disgusting.”

“Must be love,” someone else added.

Sevika finally rolled her eyes but the tips of her ears were burning bright red. “If I ask the coach to increase conditioning, will you all shut up?”

Vi and Ran kept going but Sevika learned to tune them long before you started dating - a skill that was proving essential lately. What really grated on her nerves, though, was Number 9.

She never stopped hovering. Always too close. She’d dialed it up even more lately, like Sevika’s disinterest was a challenge instead of a boundary.

And Sevika was done being polite. She had already stopped engaging, already started stepping away mid-sentence, already answered every playful shove with deadpan silence. She thought the message was clear.

Apparently not.

Number 9 slid in beside her after practice like she owned the spot. Nudged Sevika’s knee with hers. Too familiar. Too comfortable.

“Hey,” she said. “You doing anything after?”

Sevika didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

A beat.

“With the manager again?” Number 9 asked, trying to sound testing but it came out flat, sour.

Sevika finally turned to look at her. Her voice was low and measured but not angry - just done.

“Stop.”

Number 9 blinked. “What?”

Sevika’s eyes were sharp, flat steel. “You keep asking like the answer’s gonna change. It’s not. I’m not interested. I never was.”

That hit.

The smirk dropped. Her whole expression flickered, wounded pride surfacing before she could catch it.

Sevika didn’t flinch. Didn’t offer a soft follow-up. Because she had nothing else to say. She already had everything she wanted. And it wasn’t her.

Number 9 stood up, grabbed her water bottle a little too hard, and stormed off to the other side of the locker room. Her face was stiff, eyes flashing.

Another player, standing close enough to hear, gave a low whistle. “Damn. What was that?”

“Nothing,” Sevika muttered.

“Girl’s been sniffing around you for weeks, Sev. She probably thought she had a shot.”

“She didn’t.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she knew that.”

Sevika didn’t respond. She’d already made herself clear. Quietly. Repeatedly. She hadn’t flirted back. Hadn’t encouraged it. But she’d also never called it out loud. Never said “I’m taken.”

Because she didn’t want to put more attention on you. Because you’d asked for privacy.

But maybe that wasn’t fair. Not to you. And not to Number 9, either.

Now, on the other side of the room, the teasing picked up again.

“Come on, just admit it,” Vi grinned. “You’ve been domesticated.”

“Pie every Friday, turning down drinks? That’s not training dedication, babe. That’s a relationship.”

Ran grinned. “So when’s the wedding?”

“She’ll never admit it,” someone muttered. “She’s too cold for that. Probably doesn’t even like the manager that much.”

That earned an awkward chuckle from a few players.

And then - 

Number 9 snapped. “Yeah. Maybe the manager’s just slumming it.”

Silence. Every head turned.

Ran froze, halfway through pulling off their cleats. “Excuse me?”

Number 9 shrugged like she hadn’t just lit a match. “I mean, let’s be real. Sevika’s hot. Sure. But she’s not exactly warm and fuzzy. You think that kind of person sticks around? She probably treats the manager like a bench press - gets what she wants and drops it when it gets too heavy.”

No one laughed. Not even Vi.

Sevika stood slowly. Eyes flat. Shoulders tight. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.

Because that was the moment the door opened - 

And you walked in.

Planner held tightly in hand. Calm. Composed. Professional as ever despite hearing every word form outside the door. You planned on handling it like an adult and not making a scene. That was until you saw the look on Sevika’s face.

The room had gone still. Every eye snapped to you, including Number 9’s, caught like a deer in headlights.

You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t need to. You turned to Number 9.

And smiled - tight, sharp, lethal. “Didn’t realize you had amateur psychoanalysis listed under your skillset,” you said coolly. “Want me to make that official in the next team evaluation?”

No one moved.

Number 9’s jaw clenched. “It was a joke.”

“Mm. Explain it to me then… I like to laugh. Where was the punchline?” You stepped closer - slow, precise, dangerous in a way no one had ever seen from you before.

Number 9 went quiet, glancing at her feet before meeting your eyes again like it was a staredown.

“Let me be very clear - Sevika shows up early, works harder than half this room combined - you included. She keeps her head down, and doesn’t complain even when she should.”

You let your voice drop. “If that intimidates you, that’s your problem. Not hers.”

Number 9 looked like she wanted to melt into the floor by now. But you weren’t done.

“I’ve seen more loyalty and strength in her in the past month than most people manage in a year. And if any of you think she’s not a ‘great catch,’ then you clearly haven’t been paying attention.”

Silence. Every player frozen.

“You don’t have to like her, but you will respect her. And if I hear anything like that again, I will be taking it up with coaching. Do I make myself clear?” You turned to the rest of the room, gaze sweeping like a stormfront.

Ran looked like she wanted to applaud but one dared breathe.

Then you turned. Walked across the room to Sevika. She was staring at you like you’d just split the sky in two.

You reached up - calmly, gently - and pressed a soft but sure kiss to her cheek. Yours.

“Don’t forget your protein shake,” you said. And then you left.

The room stayed frozen long after the door clicked shut behind you. Even Sevika didn’t move.

But her whole face was burning and her ears were red. The corner of her mouth was starting to curve into a smug little smile.

Ran, finally recovering, let out a low whistle. “Okay. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Sevika’s never gonna recover,” Vi added, grinning.

But Number 9 didn’t say a word. Not for the rest of practice. Not the rest of the week.

Because there were lines - and you made it very clear Sevika wasn’t just your girlfriend. She was someone you stood for.

And Sevika? She was head-over-fucking-heels.

 ---

You hadn’t even made it ten feet past the locker room before the door behind you slammed open again.

Heavy, fast but familiar footsteps. 

You smirked before you turned.

Sevika caught up to you in three strides, grabbed your wrist. “You kissed me.” Her voice was rough. Her pupils blown wide. Her breath hitched as she said it, like even she didn’t believe the words. 

You just nod, biting back a grin. “Yeah. I was there.”

“In front of everyone.”

You hum. “Mhm. It was just an innocent one, I figured it was time.”

She scoffs softly, dragging a hand through her hair, rubbing her neck shyly, looking at her shoes to suppress a smile. After a beat of silence, she said, more quietly: “You didn’t have to do that… defending me and shit”

Your eyes find hers - those stormy gray ones that never know how to hide anything from you. “No,” you say. “I didn’t.”

Sevika stares at you. Her expression caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. Like she can’t quite believe you chose her like that. Publicly, casually and without shame.

“I just thought she needed a reminder.”

Sevika’s jaw twitches. “I told her to back off.”

“I know,” you say, softer now. “I know you did.”

She hesitates. Like she’s searching for the right words. Then, after a second: “You really didn’t have to do that for me.” she repeats like she still doesn’t quite believe what just happened and can’t find the right words.

You tilt your head. “I didn’t do it for you.”

She blinks. You step closer.

“I did it for me,” you say. “Because I’m not in the mood to watch someone throw themselves at my girlfriend anymore.  You’re mine. Let them know.”

Sevika’s breath catches - my girlfriend.

Her ears go pink.

You reach up, brushing your fingers over her shoulder, slow and grounding, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“I’ve kept this quiet because I wanted to protect it,” you murmur. “But that doesn’t mean I’m scared of being seen with you.”

Her voice is almost a whisper. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” You laugh under your breath. “Sevika. You should’ve seen her face. I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

She huffs, finally letting herself smile - really smile. That low, soft-lipped, crooked one she only gives to you. Then, a little gruff: “Next time give a girl some warning.”

“If there’s a next time, I’m putting her through the wall.”

Sevika snorts.

Then she leans forward, closing the last sliver of space between you and crowding you gently against the wall of the hallway, hands braced on either side of you.

“You like claiming me, huh?”

You look up at her, smug. “I like what’s mine staying mine.”

Her lips twitch. “Is that so.”

You grin. “You gonna do something about it, hot shot?”

She leans in, nose brushing yours. “Oh, I’ll prove it.”

And then she kisses you - rough, needy. One hand sliding to your waist, the other cupping the back of your neck, nails leaving crescent shapes there. She needs to feel you under her palms again and you melt into her, letting her crowd you against the wall, heat blooming through your chest. When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard.

“Damn,” you murmur, dazed. “Should’ve kissed you in front of the team sooner.”

She laughs under her breath, brushing her knuckles against your cheek. “You’re a brat you know that?.”

You grin. “Don’t pretend you don’t live for it.”

She doesn’t say anything to that.

Just kisses you again - softer this time.

And it’s better than any answer.

Dividers by: @ nonbinaryavrage

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Saved at Sea: Part 2

Bob Floyd x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Pining, Love Triangle, War Inaccuracies, Mentions of Torture (off page) Alcohol, I think that’s it but will update as I go!

- Part 1 Here -

———————————

18+ Only

———————————

Bob walked back into the room with a bottle of wine and two glasses, setting them down on the coffee table while he wordlessly poured you both a drink. For a second your eyes flitted to the clock.

4:37am.

Somehow the wine didn’t seem as wrong as it should have this time of morning, as Bob sat down next to you, his weight dipping the couch cushions and you slid closer to him inadvertently.

You weren’t sure if you could still… touch him, kiss him, like you so badly wanted to. It had been months.

Months where you’d longed for his touch, longed for the softness that Bob was.

But this man sitting next to you… you weren’t even sure he was the same Bob anymore.

His arms bulged under his t-shirt sleeves as he swept a hand through his long locks, his piercing blue eyes looked haunted, but his face was still Bobs face.

You shuffled back a bit on the couch, clearing your throat as you reached for the wine and gulped down half in one go.

Bob gave you an amused grin, raising his eyebrow as he picked up his own glass.

“Alright… I guess we should just get started then.” His voice was still that silky smooth baritone, but he sounded so much more sure of himself than before.

You angled your body so that you faced him as he spoke, a bit of distance between you as you studied the new lines that framed his eyes as he smiled at you gently.

“So… as you probably know, we were flying somewhere over the South China Sea, things were going fine. As fine as they could be given the circumstances, and I think maybe we got a little too complacent, because Mickey and I, we didn’t see them closing in. We were further out than the rest of the squad, and… they got us caged in.”

Bob proceeded to tell you how they got shot down, and the next thing he remembered was being hauled onto a small fishing boat and brought ashore. Bob said he remembered feeling disoriented at the time, dizzy and starved and full of seawater which had dehydrated him to the point of hallucinating by the time he was found clinging to that fractured bit of wing.

He hadn’t questioned anything, he’d let the fishermen take him wherever without considering where he might actually have been going. He remembered feeling alone but hadn’t yet realised Mickey wasn’t there, until they threw him in the prison camp and he’d finally come to.

His first conscious thoughts were ones of terror. Alone in a dark, cold cell. Rats ran at his feet and damp coated the walls and floor, but the most agonising thought for Bob was that everyone else in his squad may have suffered a similar fate.

Over the months, Bob had encountered untold horrors, made to do things no man ever should, tortured until near breaking point. He laboured and worked until his fingers bled and took beating after beating, barely fed and watered enough to sustain his body.

Bob hatched a plan during his cold, lonely nights in his cell, one that could have gone wrong at any turn, but thankfully hadn’t.

When the guards opened his cell early that last morning, to find Bob’s limp, lifeless form in the floor, unresponsive to their booted feet colliding with his ribcage and stomach - which was a hard feat even for Bob to accomplish, laying there like he wasn’t present enough to feel them - they’d tossed his useless form out onto the streets, convinced he would perish anyway. Bob had waited hours to ensure they weren’t watching, waiting, as the deserted street grew dark, and that’s when he made a run for it.

Bob was lucky to find a kind family who housed and fed him, communicating on what little English they spoke, and worked for them in their convenience store until he’d made enough money to get a boat to the mainland and to the US Embassy.

His parents had been notified after the Navy, but only once Bob was safely back on US soil, and word had spread quickly, to everyone but you.

After checking your phone you’d realised Nat had tried to call you several times, texting you over and over, but you weren’t sure that would have done much to prepare you for seeing Bob on your doorstep anyway.

You realised, once Bob had finished speaking, that your cheeks were wet. You hadn’t realised the tears rolling down your cheeks, as you imagined the horrors he’d endured.

“Hey…” Bob whispered, reaching over and using his thumb to gently wipe a tear from your cheek. “I’m here now.”

You sniffled and wiped your face, “Bob I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I hate that you went through that.”

Bob shifted in his seat to face you, taking your hands in his. “You wanna know what kept me going?”

“What?” Your lip quivered.

“You. The thought of you waiting for me, I knew I had to make it home.”

Your heart stuttered inside you and you wanted so desperately to kiss him, to feel everything would be ok.

But something was stopping you.

You stood and began pacing the room, Bob’s eyes following you as you covered your mouth, a hand on your hip as your bare feet sunk into the plush rug.

“What is it?” Bob asked, clearly sensing your hesitation.

“Bob… I mourned you. For 6 months, I cried for you, I… I accepted that you were gone, as painful as it was. Now that you’re back, I-“

Bob stood so quickly it startled you and you took a step back. He crossed over to you and grabbed your wrists, gently but firm in his big hands.

“Y/N, I’m not saying we need to pick up where we left off, I get that it’s gonna take some time, but… you still love me don’t you?”

Your body softened, and you moved closer, resting your palms against his chest. The back of Bob’s knuckles grazed down your side, over the dip of your waist, where his hand came to rest against your hip.

“Bobby I-“

A loud and impatient knocking jolted you from whatever hold Bob had on you, and you stepped back slightly, startled.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, rushing over to the door.

You threw it open, the early morning light turning from navy blue to lavender, and Nat stood with wide, wet eyes in front of you.

“Nat are you-“

“Where is he?”

——————————

The evening was tense despite the flow of alcohol and lively music blaring from the Hard Deck’s jukebox.

You stood stiff against the wall as you watched everyone circle Bob, clinking their glasses and bottles with his as they celebrated him coming home. Everyone but you and Bradley, who stood equally as stiff across the room.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy Bob was back, it was the most relieved you’d felt since you could remember, but things felt heavy, weighted, and you weren’t sure what this meant for you.

There in the middle of the room stood the man you loved, but he was so different, it made your heart ache. Was the Bob you’d loved gone forever? Was he somewhere under this confident, boisterous exterior?

As Bob recounted his experience for the large group that began to gather around him, Bradley moved across the room and stood by your side.

“Pretty surreal, isn’t it?” He murmured against the bottle at his lips.

“That’s putting it lightly, Roo.” You breathed.

“Are you guys… you know, back to how it was before?” Bradley was talking to you but his eyes never left the centre of the room, watching as Bob lit up around everyone, confidence radiated off of him.

It had been 5 days and you and Bob hadn’t had all that much time to talk, between getting him situated in a new flat, and his parents coming to visit.

“I dunno, Brad. It’s not that simple, I feel like I need to get to know him all over again.”

Bradley nodded and took another swig, “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

You went quiet as you watched everyone celebrate Bob, and you felt bad for not getting involved, but something felt strange, and you couldn’t shake it. You still felt as though you were dreaming, too scared to get excited in case you woke up to an empty bed again.

Bob stood on a chair in the centre of the room and his presence was commanding enough for everyone to fall silent, as you watched with wide eyes.

“Hi everyone, I just wanted to thank you all for such a warm welcome home, and to each and every one of my squad for never letting my name go forgotten.” His eyes briefly landed on Bradley’s and you swore you could see Bob’s eyes lose all their light, his lips a tight line as his jaw ticked. But then he smiled again and his eyes met yours.

“And to my darling Y/N… you and only you got me through months of agony. The thought of coming home to you, it made it all worth it. I love you.” He raised his bottle to you and your face flushed bright red as the rest of the room followed suit and an eruption of “cheers” echoed through the room.

Bradley shifted uncomfortably beside you as Bob got off of the chair and made his way over to you, his large hand snaking around the back of your neck as he pulled you forward, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“I enjoyed your speech.” You grinned nervously as you looked up at him. His eyes shone as he smiled down at you.

“I meant every word, princess.”

Bradley cleared his throat as he pushed off the wall and made his way to the glass sliding doors. “Yeah, great speech man.” But his voice said otherwise.

You watched Bradley make his way out into the dark outside, and you looked up at Bob apologetically.

“Hey, I need to go and make sure he’s okay, I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” You wanted to spend time with Bob, but he seemed far less vulnerable than you initially thought he would have been.

He nodded and stroked your cheekbone affectionately. “Sure, come find me when you’re back.”

You followed Bradley out the back of the Hard Deck, and found him with his jeans rolled up and his feet ankle deep in the water, beer bottle resting carefully in between two fingers as he stared out at the water.

You slipped off your sandals and walked over, the cool water helping dissipate the heat in your cheeks.

“You okay?” You asked, eyes trained on the moon that slowly shifted across the horizon.

Bradley’s shoulders straightened back for a second and then slumped back down. “Is it selfish if I say no?”

“A little, yeah.” You joked, grinning softly up at him.

Bradley’s lip twitched into a smile as he gave you a side eye, and he shook his head, hiding his grin behind the bottle that he brought up to his lips.

“Why aren’t you okay?” You prodded.

He sighed, digging his toes into the wet sand, “I think you know why.”

You looked back up at the moon, unsure how to respond.

“For what it’s worth… I’m not okay either.”

Bradley looked over at you, his thick brows knitting together. “I would have thought you’d be happier than anyone.”

“I am!” You defended, “I’m relieved, happy he’s home safe, but… I dunno… it’s stupid.”

Bradley’s hand snuck into yours and he tugged you gently, pulling you further down the beach. “It’s not stupid, tell me.”

You swallowed hard, unsure how to put what you felt into words. “He feels like a stranger, you know? I had this fantasy that he’d come back and it would be exactly like it was before, but I wasn’t expecting to feel like this.”

Bradley shrugged next to you, “Well… that’s fair. You mourned him and the guy came back different, it’s gonna take time to get used to it.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I know. I just don’t wanna seem ungrateful, because I’m not, but I dunno, he makes me kinda nervous.”

Bradley snorted next to you, his white teeth glinting in the moon light.

“What about me? Am I just a big old teddy bear you don’t mind walking in the dark with?” He joked.

You looked over at Bradley with soft eyes, the music from the bar getting quieter the further down the beach you walked.

“I feel safe with you, Roo. I’m glad you’re here.” You admitted.

Bradley’s hand tightened briefly around yours, and then he let go to sling a heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

“Good. You aren’t getting rid of me any time soon, kid.”

——————————

By the time you and Bradley walked back into the Hard Deck, the atmosphere had changed dramatically.

Nat hurried over to you and took your hand, dragging you towards the front door.

“Bob’s about to knock some guys jaw off, he won’t listen to any of us.” She huffed as you stared at her with wide eyes.

You pushed open the front door and sure enough, Bob and another aviator you had yet to meet, were face to face in the parking lot, circling one another like vultures fighting over scraps.

“What’s going on?” You asked, your skin prickling.

“Parker said Bob had been gone too long and now you’re fair game. Babe, he’s had too much to drink, you need to get him home.” Nat huffed.

You sighed as you pushed through the small crowd as Bradley made his way outside, confusion etched across his face.

“Aw look, your girlfriends come to save you, Floyd. Or… is she even your girlfriend anymore? I forget.” Parker smirked as he walked in circles across from Bob.

Bob lunged and grabbed Parker by his lapels, slamming a heavy fist into his nose.

“Fucker!” Bob yelled, shoving him to the ground.

“Bob! Stop, let’s just go!” You cried from behind him.

Parker was on his feet before you could move to Bob’s side and he threw his entire weight behind his own punch, fist landing right below Bob’s eye.

Another punch landed against Parker’s jaw and sent him staggering backwards, and Bob moved to follow him, chest heaving and eyes wild, but you grabbed his shoulder hard and pulled.

Bob swung around and you were startled by the look on his face, pulling your hand back as though he’d burnt you.

His face fell and he held his hands out, “I’m sorry… sorry.” He panted.

You crossed your arms over your chest to comfort yourself, “Bob let’s go. Please? You can stay with me tonight.”

Bob nodded, swiping his wild hair back off of his face. “Yeah… I’m sorry.”

You turned and started walking to your car, only stopping to look and Nat and Bradley apologetically before you unlocked the car and climbed in.

You waited for Bob to climb in, and silently started the car.

You could feel Bob’s eyes on you as you drove in silence, your heart thudding against your chest.

“What?” You asked, not taking your eyes off the road.

“Do I scare you?” Bob asked, leaning against the passenger door to face you.

“Is it bad if I say yes?” You sighed.

You felt Bob shift next to you, and then a soft breathy chuckle left his lips.

“No.”

You took a deep breath through your nose. “You’re just… different, Bob. It’s gonna take some time to feel… comfortable again.”

Silence fell between you and you swore you could hear your blood rushing in your ears.

“Do you still love me?” He asked suddenly, running his fingers through his hair again.

“Painfully so.” You admitted.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

You pulled the car into your drive and cut the engine, sitting back in your seat with a heavy sigh.

“Because I mourned the death of the Bob I knew… and then he came back a different man.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. “You’re a stranger to me now, Bob. It’s crazy, I love you but I don’t… I don’t know this version of you, but you also make me so nervous and flustered and-“

Bob’s lips twisted into a crooked grin, and his hand slid over your thigh. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his calloused fingers brushing the bare skin under your dress.

He leaned in close, his lips nearly touching your ear, as he whispered lowly.

“I’m not scared of a challenge, princess. I’ll win you back.”

His fingers tightened around the flesh of your thigh as his lips pressed against your pulsing throat.

He pulled back, and his eyes were dark and hooded, his smirk tantalising.

“One way or another.”

—————————

- Part 3 Here -

Taglist:

@sarah-bear706318 @swightops @midnightmagpiemama @gardenof-venus @mrsrobert-bob-floyd @lolo-925 @frozenhuntress67 @beebeerockknot @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

[cherryredstars]

I'm so happy you did part 2 of fear or lust ❤️ It's one of my favorite pieces you've done.

Can we get a last part of the series where reader and Miguel are about to graduate and how she is getting job offers from halfway across the world. Miguel obviously doesn't want her to leave him, so he bullies convinces her to stay with him.

Love your work!

Kisses 💋💋💋

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+. NSFW, Toxic!Miguel, Manipulative Sex, Penetrative Sex, Choking, Forced Agreement

A/N: Thank you, sweets! Enjoy!

Unedited

Part 1 Part 2

You are destined for greater things.

That's what the university's dean had said during their graduation. Miguel knew that was particularly true for the two of you, everyone else he didn't quite care. He had already been offered positions in the biggest corporate businesses specializing in science and genetics, the offers still pending and eagerly awaiting his response. He's seen from the common snooping around on your phone that your emails were spammed with similar offers from different businesses across the world, some you've kept personal contact with through messaging. It makes him sour, not because he doesn't want you to succeed, but because he doesn't want you flying halfway across the fucking world to do it.

He finally has you trapped between his claws, but now you're already planning to escape him. Makes him grumpy, his mind already brewing with ways to get you to stay, to get the offers beckoning you with fully-paid flights to different countries to suddenly disappear. Ways to make you stay with him. He's already narrowed down the job offers in you're onslaught of requests that align with the location of the offer he's going to accept. A nice position in Alchemax right here in Nueva York. You would still have a great selection of jobs to accept here, a few five or more positions that are stationed around the same area. All he has to do is convince you to take up their offers.

That's why he has you trapped under him, his hand wrapped around your throat as his chest sits flush with your back. Your lips are just as puffy and wet as your eyes as tears run down your cheeks. Miguel feeds harsh, slow thrusts into your drooling cunt, slowly dragging against your walls just to spear you on his entire length again. You let out broken sobs, eyes half-lidded and staring into nothing as you get lost in the pleasure.

Miguel's mouth rests just by your ear, speaking words so low and casual as if he isn't abusing your precious cunt.

"Think some nobody across the world s'gonna make your pussy feel this good, hm?" He mutters to you, smiling evilly at the way the words cause your spine to jolt.

"N-no," You force out through wobbly lips, blinking slowly as your mind tries to process what he's actually saying.

"Then why would you wanna leave, Bambi?" Miguel chuckles, furthering his point with a suffocating thrust against your cervix, making you choke on your next breath.

"I-" You begin, brows furrowing. Why was it you wanted to leave? You don't remember. You don't even remember what he's talking about. "I don't know..."

"You don't know?" Miguel chuckles, something dark and condescending in his voice. "Well that's stupid then, don't you think."

You nod in agreement, eyes rolling back with a drawn out moan as Miguel forces his hand between your body and the mattress to rub at your swollen clit. Miguel leans further into you, his teeth capturing your ear as he gives it a bite that he soothes with a long lick.

"Should just stay here with me, Bambi. You don't really want to leave, right?"

The way he says it, even though he presents it like a simple question, seems final. Like he's already made the decision for you. But your mind is too overloaded to catch it, for it to break it down and blare out warning bells. Instead you nod with a half-assed hum as you feel your orgasm approaching. Your mouth drops open in a moan, a shaky call of his name forming on your lips as you feel your body beginning to stiffen as that ball in your stomach is on the brink of explosion.

You cry out when Miguel stops completely, keeping his cock snug and motionless against your fluttering walls.

"Why-" You sob, trying to move your hips despite the impossible weight he presses into you. "Miggy- I- so close!"

Miguel snarls, his hand tightening around your throat. A panic seizes in your chest as your airway contracts.

"Say it," He grits into your ear. "Say that you'll stay."

You hesitate, your mind trying to understand the words and push away the pain around your neck. But Miguel only adds to the pressure when you don't respond, feeling his patience wanning.

"I-" You choke, words strained until he lightens his hold, "I'm going to s-stay."

Miguel seems to suddenly brighten, turning your head so his forehead rests against your sweaty one. "Promise?"

"Yeah," You whisper out, sniffling as your tears gather at the corner of your lips. "I promise."

Miguel grins, something ruthless and demented before he crashes his lips against yours. The kiss seems more like a punishment rather than a reward, his tongue thrashing in your mouth and his lips bruising. When he pulls away, he licks away the tears from your face, chuckling before he adjusts his position.

"Good girl, Bambi. Was that so hard?" He laughs, his hand leaving it's place against your throat and clit to wrap around your hips.

He begins thrusting again, faster and rougher than before. He leaves your head completely empty as he praises you for falling into his trap, feeding your blank brain with prettied up images of how nice your future will be. Feeds you with dolled up images of the two of you moving in together in a nice apartment in Nueva York that's a fair distance from both of your places of employment. Grunts about how happy he'll be to come home from work to find you splayed out on your shared bed waiting for him to return and fill you up again and again.

He doesn't stop until you're screaming out your release, coating his cock in a beautiful sheen of milky white until you're too exhausted and fucked out. He rewards you with a gift of his own cum, stuffing your cunt just like he promised in those worded glimpses of your future together. He makes sure to care for you after, caring until you get sleepy and fall into a deep sleep. It's only then that he goes through your phone, writing a rejection to send and copy and paste to all your other job offers. What type of man would he be if he didn't take care of this for you when you're completely incapable of doing it yourself? Don't worry though, he promises he'll sit down with you and help you write your acceptance to any of the other jobs here in Nueva York.

Promise.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Why Not Me? | 1

Part 2

Love is beautiful. Love is lovely. But lately, to you, love is a form of self-harm.

Rockstar!Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, Modern AU, low key fix-it-fic, canon divergence, DD:DNE, body dysmorphia, body shaming, smut (cunnilingus, piv, biting, marking, licking, they're messy yall), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: THIS INCESTUOUS SHOW i changed the family tree for the sake of this fic and ive FIXED EVERYTING SHUT UP you cant do anything about it anyway ok ok ok. im half sorry it became so long. idk how many parts i wil do T_T save me. also i cross posted this on ao3 MASTERLIST/PLAYLIST

Tagging: @ceoofyearning @pendragora @worms-on-multiple-strings @barbieaemond

You can hear the live music playing from the inside your car. You take a deep breath and look at yourself on your phone before stepping out. You smile and fix your hair, "maximum slayage has been achieved."

You exit the camera app, catching the text icon when you do. You bite your lip. Your thumb itches. You open it, checking the last message you have that you've not replied to.

From Harwin: Are you at your sister's already? Can we call?

You clench your jaw and place your phone in your purse. You sling your purse on your shoulder and grab the cake on the passenger seat. You tell yourself to forget about the text as you walk towards the open gate of the white picket fence.

You smile at the garden, happy to see it in real life again and not just during video calls. You brush off your iridescent, pink dress before ringing the doorbell. As you wait, you look around the neighborhood. All the houses here were as expensive as the one next to it.

The door opens. You turn back and grin as Alicent squeals, "YOU'RE HERE!"

"I'M HERE!"

She can't help but kiss your cheek before leading you inside. You talk and walk, and the moment you set the cake down, your best friend immediately seals you into a hug, both of you squealing.

When you break away, you lift your eyes to the chandelier and point, "is that the new chandelier?"

Alicent beams and spins beneath her beloved light source, "yes! I swear to the Mother if someone fucks up my chandelier again-"

"Oh, ho, ho, ho!"

Both of you turn to the man waltzing in with horrible dance moves, "speak of the devil." Viserys walks over to you, coming in for a hug, "she returns! Alicent's been waiting on you for ages."

You share a hug while Alicent makes a face, "can you blame me? She works at the fucking edge of the world!"

You pull away and raise a hand, "okay, one, dramatic-"

"No it's not," she red haired woman crosses her arms, "you literally work next to Harrenhal."

"That is a gross simplification," you wave your hand, "and two, why don't you visit me for a change?"

"In your shitty apartment?" she makes a disgusted face, "no."

You make an offended noise and glare at Viserys, "you've turned her into a stinky bourgeoisie!"

Viserys makes a face and Alicent shakes hear head. She places a hand on your shoulder, "no babes. Your apartment is simply crappy."

You make another offended noise and shake her hand off. You turn back to her fiance, "anyway. Happy birthday, Viserys!" you motion to the box on the counter.

"Is that what I think it is?" he gasps.

You scoff for effect, "yah."

Viserys opens the box and makes a dramatic sound at the sight of the chocolate cake. He turns to Alicent, who shakes her head and sniggers. The man whisper-yells, "triple chocolate cake!!!"

You laugh. Your best friend repeats, "triple chocolate cake. Now what do we say?"

Viserys seals you into a tight hug. You squeal when he pulls you up enough for your feet to leave the floor. He groans excitedly as he puts you down, "oh, you are perfect, my dear. Thank you so much."

The overly affectionate gesture leaves you a bit awkward, but you play it off with a chuckle, "you're welcome."

Alicent clicks her tongue when Viserys swipes some frosting and licks his fingers, "Viserys. Get a plate."

"Oh, fuck, I feel like I'm in uni again," he sighs at the sweet taste, "should I grow out my hair?" He rubs the trimmed sides of his hair.

Alicent cringes, "absolutely not. You looked like a sickly lord in uni."

"But love-"

"Oh, I knew you were here."

You look over your shoulder. Your stomach drops. You shift awkwardly as Daemon walks towards you with a grin. "Figured from Alicent's squealing," he says before pulling you into a hug.

He rubs your sides and it makes you feel overly conscious. You mutter as he pulls away, "how've you been, Daemon?"

"You know me-"

"High as a fucking kite?" Viserys answers for him as he takes a slice of cake.

Daemon flips him off but smiles at you, "just dandy, love. And you?"

"Oh, you know, wet."

Alicent slaps a hand on her forehead.

Viserys snorts.

Daemon raises his brows.

You realize your mistake and backtrack, "n- no- I mean, cause- cause Riverlands!"

He snorts and your body tingles. He shakes his head and sighs, "and here I thought it was because of me."

Alicent raises her brows and takes that as a cue to leave. She pulls Viserys back, who whines because he hadn't gotten his cake yet. She slaps his arm and lies about needing to check on something.

"Did you bring someone?" Daemon asks.

Your stomach rolls at the insinuation he was interested in knowing if you had a date. You dramatically look around, "do you see anyone?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head, "well, I was hoping your sister would come around."

You stiffen. Your sister? You manage a chuckle to play off the stinging in your gut; it doesn't sting any less though. You half-smile, "Mysaria's in Lys."

He raises his brows, "still?"

You knit your brows, "still?"

"I just figured her vacation would be done by now."

You feel your eye twitch. You raise a finger, "how'd you know she's on vacation?"

Daemon simply shrugs, "I follow her on Unstagram."

A scoff spills from your lips as your brows raise, "she let you follow her?"

"Yeah," he shakes his head and furrows his brows, "why wouldn't she?"

You clench your jaw. You feel your skin crawl. It's as though your body was being stretched into oblivion. You press your lips into a tight smile and rub your belly as your agitation builds. You shake your head and shrug, "I didn't think you were that close. She's pretty private."

Daemon is supposed to say something, but then his attention is stolen by the sound from outside.

"This next song is called Breathless," followed my cheering.

His expression shifts. He throws his thumb over his shoulder, "shit. I uh... I have something-"

You nod before he can finish and Daemon effectively runs off.

Once you're alone, you let it catch up with you, the loathing, the disgust. You look around you and feel bile rise up your throat. Everything was beautiful. Everything was pristine and put together. From the color of the walls, to the furniture, even to the tiny pieces of décor.

This is Alicent's dream home. She found a man that loved her and he got her that white picket fence she's always wanted. She's living her dreams because... she's someone's dream girl.

You walk towards the mirror in the common room and stare at yourself. The makeup you spent hours on and the sundress you overindulged in now looked lack luster. Whatever convincing you did in the car has gone. You think about Alicent. You chuckle bitterly as you think of your sister, "oh, Mysaria." You were nothing but a disgusting blob, next to the statuesque her.

You grow angry at yourself when your eyes water. You pace around to calm yourself, "it's fine. I just won't eat any sweets." You force a smile at the mirror, "or carbs," you fix your hair, "I'll just have a bev. I ate already anyway."

When you no longer feel like crying, you let yourself join everyone outside.

Your eyes immediately fall at the platform and band setup across the large backyard. Viserys really went all out; there were lights, a sound system, and everything.

You try to make out the band playing. You immediately recognize Criston in his cream colored suit playing the bass, though his hair was snipped short and he had massive shades on. You knew Aemond was a guitarist but there was only a blonde with short platinum hair on the keys, and he never cut his hair, so you debated if it was really him in that leather suit jacket. But then you saw Aegon and his shaggy, jaw length hair, drumming yet again sans shirt showcasing all his tattoos and figured the other blonde had to be his brother.

Then, of course, there was Gwayne. If you couldn't recognize him by his guitar playing, or his distinct baritone, then you would by smirk and auburn hair. You sure did. There was a bit of sheen on his forehead, but even then he moved as cool as a cucumber. He looked good in his dark blue suit. I mean, they all did.

You remember Alicent talking about how excited Viserys was to have Oldtown play for his birthday, how they cleared their schedule and all. Though you weren't a close follower, you somehow felt proud of them, having watched them perform in shitty bars a couple times in university. To see them have the success they do now makes you feel honored to have been one of the few people who said they were going to make it. And judging by how people were singing along, they made it.

You were agitated by the size of the crowd. It still baffled you how many friends the Viserys had, but then your remember he's an old money businessman... and an extrovert. You rub your stomach as you search for Alicent. You spot her alone, cringing by the buffet table as she poured herself a drink. Immediately, your anxieties dissipate because of her and her unabashed dislike for her brother's music.

You walk over to her and sway your hips exaggeratedly to song. Alicent stills when she sees you, and makes a revolted sound before raising her pointer, "stop it."

"Nuh uh," you throw your hands in the air and move your hips, "it's a good song!"

Alicent rolls her eyes, which only makes you laugh.

From across the yard, Gwayne's attention is stolen. He watches how light catches in your pink skirt as you grind against his sister, much to her disgust. He smiles between lyrics, making the crowd react.

"Oh, come on, babes," you watch as your best friend chugs her drink, "you have to at least be proud of your brother."

Alicent shakes her head, "I am! I'm so glad that people like his music enough that he can perform it somewhere far away from me."

You turn to the buffet table when you catch the aroma of your favorite stew. You gulp but tell yourself you shouldn't eat. You decide to pour yourself a drink.

She catches you, "you want me to get you a plate? I ordered your favorite-"

"No," you shake your head, " 'm just thirsty."

She knits her brows, skeptical of your words as she was aware of your destructive tendencies. She decides believe your reassurance, though her gut was telling her otherwise.

She turns back to Oldtown and catches her brother looking. She shakes her head and flips him off. Gwayne chuckles, not because of her though, because you finally turn around. This entices another reaction from the crowd, which Alicent wretches over.

You sip on some punch and shoot her a look, "oh, stop being so sour, baby."

She glares and points, "you try listening to your brother and your cousins sing about the women they've shagged and tell me then if being I'm sour."

You bite your lower lip, but break into a laugh anyway, "you got me there."

Alicent's eyes widen for emphasis, "yeah. And I don't even mind it when people ask me about 'em, but I really, really don't want to know how badly you want to fuck my brother."

You laugh again, no longer holding back this time.

She laughs along. She loves seeing you this way, "you look absolutely stunnin' in your dress, by the way."

The compliment flies over your head.

"Pink is 100% your color," she says with genuine enthusiasm.

You sigh and offer a smile, "it better. This dress costs me a fucking arm."

"Well, it does," Alicent affirms, "you look like a fucking queen."

Your heart swells. Yet again, your best friend breaks into your layer of self-hatred. You nod and agree for her sake, "I really do."

The next moment, the crowd breaks into applause, signaling the end of the song. You cheer along, though you hadn't really paid attention. You turn to the stage and find Gwayne looking your way. You smile and he smirks back.

Gwayne pushes back his strapped guitar and grabs the mic, "thank you. I hope you all enjoyed our set." He shields his eyes as he looks through the crowd. He points once he spots Viserys, "happy birthday again to you, brother."

Alicent claps with the crowd. Viserys laughs as his friends shake him wildly.

"Thank you so much for your endless support, and your endless money." Gwayne chuckles before motioning, "it's been Criston, Aemond, Aegon, and-" he places a hand on his chest, "- Gwayne. We are Oldtown, and you have been a wonderful crowd."

You applaud as the band gets off the stage. They settle their instruments with their stage riders and you look back to Alicent. Before you can speak, her eyes widen as she takes a sip, "idiot in coming."

You look back where she was, brows quirking in surprise when you see her brother jogging over.

Gwayne immediately tries to snatch Alicent's drink, but as she anticipated it, she effectively dodges then chugs. He groans, "oh, thoughtful."

She manages to make a face as she gulps. Some liquid dribbles from the sides of her mouth.

"And classy," her brother's forehead wrinkles.

You chuckle at their antics and shake your head, deciding to pour the man a drink yourself.

Gwayne gives his sister an annoyed look when she sighs for effect. She wipes the corner of her mouth, "it's my drink."

"I would at least expect-" his words falter when he realizes you weren't even beside him. He cranes his neck to look at you before looking to his sister, "-you'd be willing to share after I've slaved away for your pleasure."

"Oh, I can assure you I found no pleasure in this. And have you been so out of practice 8 songs is slaving away for you?"

Gwayne chuckles but is uninterested in continuing the argument; his interest was never in his sister to begin with. He turns to you, digging his hands in his pockets, "and who might you be?"

Alicent turns between the two of you then deadpans, "seriously?"

Gwayne smirks. In his head, his sister's reaction is of being a protective friend. He's admittedly had flings with her friends before, but he's never been deterred by his baby sister's wrath.

But the truth is, that's not at all the reason why Alicent shakes her head incredulously, "my friend from college, you absolute goldfish."

He furrows his brows at Alicent.

At this point, you procure a cup of punch for Gwayne and hand it to him with a smile. He looks at you then the drink you're holding out. He takes it with a smirk, making sure your hands brush as you do. Oh, he is smitten.

None of that registers to you. You return his smirk with a genuine smile.

It doesn't register with Alicent either, which is why she complains about something else entirely. Her lips curl, "you've done it now. You've fed his ego. He's going to be insufferable."

You shake your head and laugh.

Gwayne licks his lips, laughing along, body tingling at the sweet sound of your voice. He does not look his sister at all as he replies, "I've always been insufferable."

You catch his look. Alicent rolls her eyes, "oh, thank gods he's at least self-aware."

Again, Gwayne reacts; he chuckles, but his eyes do not leave you. He shakes his head, "did you transfer after I graduated?"

You knit your brows at the notion, "no," you chuckle, "I'm actually your junior. I took Music Production at King's Landing too."

His face falls and his brows raise.

You chuckle brighter as you nod, "yeah... we were even classmates in, what, two subjects?"

Gwayne wipes his face. You laugh at his stressed expression. "No fucking kidding," he clutches his jaw. He shakes his head again, "what classes did we share?"

You press your lips together in thought, "the... one with Mr. Boldwood."

"Are you serious?" he mutters, "the one where we scored horror films?"

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember you added sound effects instead of music and Mr. Boldwood was like, yeah don't do that, it's a scoring class, not an SFX class."

Gwayne runs his hands through his auburn hair and tugs on the collar of his dress shirt. He loosens his tie as he sighs. By the Seven, how does he not remember you?

You laugh and wave him off, "it's not that big of a deal. You were always too tired to talk in class."

That was true.

"No, it is," Alicent blurts, and he agrees. "Make him feel bad for not remembering you," she shoots him a look, "I literally went to one of your concerts with her, you imbecile. The one where you forgot your guitar and we had to drive-"

"To Highgarden?" Gwayne's jaw slacks.

"Yes, to Highgarden."

Oh, he is stressed.

You feel bad, and shake your head, "to be fair, I wasn't there when she gave you your guitar. I was the one driving and didn't get out because I didn't want to get towed."

Gwayne nods. He watches how your brows quirk and how your lips curl.

You assure him once more, "it's fine. Really... and anyway-"

"Oh, you stop it," Alicent cuts you off.

You turn to her, "but it's tru-"

"No, it's not!"

"I usually just fade in the background of people's minds. I'm not very memorable."

"You are!" Alicent argues, "Gwayne's just an fucking idiot."

Gwayne points at her, "and I am completely agreement."

Before you can respond, Daemon suddenly walks into the conversation. You turn to him, seizing up as he brushes against your shoulder. You turn to your drink and step back. Daemon says, "Viserys is asking about the mixer and-"

"Did he touch the damn mixer?" Alicent says, "I told him not-"

"I told him the same thing," he raises his hands.

She groans and rolls her eyes. She raises a hand in regard before walking off, "gimme a sec."

Daemon follows her. Your eyes follow him, allowing yourself to look a while longer than you should have.

You best believe Gwayne catches it all. His lips twitch and his brows pull back in annoyance. He mutters pointedly, "so Daemon, huh?"

You turn to him, "w-what?"

He chuckles dryly at your coyness. He takes a sip before glaring at the said man, "so you have a thing for annoying cunts?"

Your face falls.

He shakes his head before tilting it, "the imbecile has no redeeming qualities. It's an anomaly why woman chase after him." He scoffs, expression growing even more bitter, "probably his money." He drinks some more punch, cringing at how sweet it was, then finally turns back to you.

He is both annoyed yet subtly amused by how affected you are by his dislike for the Targaryen rat. He sighs, "for what it's worth he, himself, thinks I'm also an annoying cunt."

You raise your brows, realizing he wasn't just saying this. Then out of nowhere, you find it incredibly stupid and downright hillarious.

Gwyane finds his expression softening at the sound of your laughter. His annoyance did not wane, but still, he smirks and brings a hand into his pocket, "switch to me instead."

You laughter dies down but it's too late, you weren't paying attention. You shake your head, "I'm sure he doesn't actually think that."

"Oh, trust me, he does."

You wipe a tear, "no way. He's actually a closeted Oldtown fan."

Gwayne laughs, loud and mocking. The taken aback giggle that leaves you is the only reason he actually starts laughing genuinely. He clutches his side and moves towards the table, "is he now?"

You watch him put his drink down, "he is! He practically ran out of the door when he heard you announce the last song."

He sniggers, "pathetic bastard," he steps closer, "but who can blame him? I quite like Breathless myself." He brushes his lips and looks you up and down, "though I much prefer someone who dances to my songs unabashedly."

You smile, unaware of him still, "oh, I'm sure you do."

Gwayne, in truth, is also unware of you, far too wrapped up in the way you smiled and how your skin glowed in this light. In his head, this conversation was going swimmingly, because when has it ever not— Which is why he says, "let's go dancing in my bedroom."

You do a double take. Your jaw drops, "I beg your pardon."

He tilts his head, "I have about a hundred records and a vinyl player. I'm sure your dress would look even prettier under my lights."

When he takes another step forward, only then do realize what's happening. His stance. His eyes. His lips. It's all coming together. It stabs into your belly and you're suddenly bleeding all over yourself.

Your breath hitches. He catches it, and causes the corner of his lips to quirk. He is pleased. "What do you say?" he leans on one leg and brings his hands in his pockets.

What do you say?

You say you were still reeling from your sobering encounter with Daemon. Of course you always knew he was a playboy and he slept around, of course you knew he would never be seriously interested in you, but realizing any sort of interest he had in the first place was because of your sister again— it doesn't hurt you any less. It hurts you more each time. The next second, you are reminded of every man who's ever shown you interest and recall what they really wanted from you.

And as your mind raced with these thoughts and the sight of Gwayne Hightower— multi-award winning Gwayne Hightower, front cover of Rogue magazine Gwayne Hightower, Oldtown hearthrob Gwayne Hightower-

"Alicent doesn't have to know," he mutters and shrugs.

Oh.

He gives a lopsided smile.

If you somehow didn't know before, you know now exactly what he wanted from you.

You turn to your feet. But Harwin...

You scoff at yourself. Who were you joking?

You feel pathetic enough for you to look up and say, "okay."

Gwayne examines your face. He notices how your expression shifted but still, his smile spreads. He reaches a hand to you and you take it without a second thought.

You walk off and you don't even bother looking for Alicent at all. Before you leave, you do encounter his cousin, Aegon. Your eyes lock as you pass each other, and so you decide to smile at him, "nice tats, Aeg."

He freezes and watches as you and Gwayne leave.

Gwayne raves as he drives, telling you about The White Walkers, how it was his favorite band and how excited he was when Oldtown got to play with them. He rambles some more before asking you about your tastes. You brush him off at first, uninterested in indulging conversation.

You shake your head, "it's not very interesting."

"I'm pretty sure I get to decide what I find interesting or not."

You watch him give you that trademark smirk of his and you want to so badly believe he wasn't just saying that to get in your pants.

You don't but you humor him, "I'm more of a jazz sort of person."

"Aha," he maneuvers the steering wheel, "so extended chords and irregular tempos get you going?"

You lean into the passenger seat and smile, "don't forget nonfunctional harmony."

His dimples deepen. He takes a turn, "so what, you're too good for The White Walkers?"

"I did not say that."

"Well," he sighs deeply, "you don't seem to want to say much so I'm going to have to make things up as I go."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at him. You look out the window and miss the way he smiles at you.

"Fine," you start, "there's an artist called Khiara. She's makes incredible music. She's Lengii, and she infuses a lot of her native sound in her music. It's stunning."

He nods, "Khiara."

"Yeah..." you give him a passing smile before looking away again, "she's great."

"I'm sure she is."

He did not mean it in a mocking way, but it comes across to you as such. You scoff and resign to watching the buildings pass.

"Are you a jazz musician by taste and profession?"

You roll your eyes at his adamance at small talk, "I'm a music teacher."

His brows quirk, "what? No way, that's-"

"Underwhelming?" you look back at him.

"Cool," he spares you a look before bringing his eyes back on the road, "you teach jazz?"

"I teach 4th graders."

"Even better," he smiles, "I couldn't teach a dog to bark even if I tried so, consider me impressed."

"Mmm. I'll add it to my CV."

He snorts.

You look out the window again, "that one rockstar is impressed by me."

He leans an elbow on the car door and brushes his lips as he chuckles. Gods, you were a dream.

When you reach his apartment, you realize just how much of a rockstar he really was. His place was huge, and he had such eccentric furnishing, from a full on display of a suit of armour, to posters of obscenely niche bands. They didn't make sense and yet they fit perfectly together. And when he said he had a hundred records in his bedroom, you think he was actually playing it down.

You both take your shoes off before entering his bedroom. Gwayne leads you by the hand and motions to his collection, "I'm sure I have something here that's jazzy enough for you."

You raise your brows at him and pull away, effectively stopping him in his tracks before he can go through his records.

His brow quirks, "what is it?"

"Did you really take me home to dance in your bedroom?"

Gwayne chuckles as you walk past him. He eyes your body as you inch towards his bed and sequentially sit by the foot. You place your hands on your knees and raise your brows at him. He licks his lips and shrugs, "did 'dancing in my bedroom' sound like an innuendo to you?"

You scoff out a chuckle and roll your eyes, "you really are an annoying cunt."

Gwayne lowers his gaze, licking his teeth. He saunters over, hands in his pockets. He stops once he is directly in front of you, "do you want me to stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Being an annoying cunt?"

"I want you to stop wasting my time," you retort, "unlike you, I work a 9-5."

He laughs, dropping his head. He raises his hands in surrender, "damn. Where did you come from? You were so smiley and sweet not even an hour ago."

You forfeit a response and simply lean back on the bed.

That wipes the smile off his face. He looks down on you, feeling his breath grow heavy at your expression. He clenches his jaw, undoes his tie, and drops to his knees.

You can't stop your lips from parting.

He rubs his hands up your shins, measuring your reaction. You simply watch as his hands disappear underneath your skirt. Your breath hitches when he squeezes your thighs. Gwayne pushes closer, and you wouldn't have minded, had he not kissed your knee.

"Wait," you reach out to his head.

Gwayne gulps as he looks up at you, eager to know where he went wrong.

"No kissing," you mutter.

He hears it, repeats it in head, then repeats it out loud, "no kissing?"

You bite your lip and stroke his cheek, "no kissing."

It takes a moment for him to realize you were being serious, and when he does, he slowly nods, repeating again, "no kissing."

You nod and straighten up. You brush your hands up his arms then proceed to unbutton his white dress shirt, "you can bite, you can lick," you lick your lips on cue, "I'll even let you spit on me—"

"Mmm, fuck."

"—but no kissing." You slip your hands into his shirt, "you good with that, Hightower?"

"Fuck," he hooks his hands behind your knees and tugs you forward. You squeak and grip his shoulders. He slots himself between your legs, "no kissing anything?"

Your breath strains when his nails drag up the inside of your thighs, trailing to your waistband. Your brush your noses together, shaking your head, "anything."

He hisses, baring his teeth. He is unbelievably compelled to kiss you. He knocks his nose into your cheek, nostrils flaring, jaw muscles feathering. He breathes against your ear, "not even here, pretty girl?"

You feel his fingers brush across your soft belly and sink past your navel. You whimper when his fingers press into your core. He tuts and bites your neck at your attempt to you close your legs, "nah, ah, ah, ah. No fair. You need to play fair with me, sweetheart."

You rest your head on his toned shoulder. You squeeze his biceps, taking a moment to relax before willingly parting your legs.

He makes a pleased sound, "good girl," he nips your earlobe, "now, say it for me. Will you play fair?"

You sigh against his trapezius as your hand clutches his neck. You lick his skin before biting and whimpering, "yes."

"Seven gods," he groans, turning to kiss you. He tilts your head back, lips nearly landing on yours, but the sight of your smeared lipstick reminds him that he can't. His mind raceswith all the things he wants to do you. He starts by smearing your lipstick with his thumb and biting your lips.

You whimper and push him by the chest.

He licks your cheek and shakes his head, "I'm not kissing you, baby."

You dig your fingers into his hair and pull him back, "annoying fucking cunt."

He laughs and pulls away. His hair is messy and your stomach drops when he swipes the lipstick on his thumb on his lower lip, "I am. Now lie down." He bunches your skirt up.

You refuse to fully lie down, wanting, no, needing to see him. His eyes stay fixed on yours as his nails bite your thighs and his teeth stake their claim. He shakes his head, nose brushing against you, "told you to lie down."

"Mmm," you comb the hair out of his face, "want to see your pretty face."

He smirks and rids you of your underwear, throwing it somewhere in the room, "we'll see."

Gwayne sinks into you, his tongue and lips lapping into your folds. He works with confidence and feasts in a way that makes you writhe. You are powerless against his finesse. Your breath strains as you fall on the bed. He grips your hips, keeping you from moving too much, and you are never not amazed at just how strong men can be, "mmm, 's what I thought."

Before you know it, all you can do is arch your back, tug his hair, and call out his name. It only inspires him to be more diligent. He basks in the power he has over you. He moans as you become increasingly frantic and curses when you come undone all over his mouth.

He allows you momentary repose as he rises from your legs. You look up at him, heart racing as he licks his lips. Fuck, he was beautiful. You wipe the sheen off his chin and feel your stomach drop when he licks your thumb.

Let it never be said that Gwayne Hightower is a talentless prick. Go say what you want about how he sings and speaks, but gods, the man can use his mouth.

It was both so quick and not quick enough until you're both naked. Gwayne has to make the conscious decision to leave bites on your skin instead of kisses, and you suppose this is the reason why he ends up trapped beneath you. You take advantage of his distraction and lose yourself as you ride him, unabashedly bouncing on his hips as your hands reveled in his toned belly. He squeezes every part of you he can get his hands on, relishing the firmness of your hips, the delicateness of your breasts, the softness of you. It was in these moments you didn't mind your build, knowing well these mortal men looked at you like a goddess.

He can't help himself and sits up to graze your skin. He leaves marks all over your throat and nips your lips every time you drive him wild with your noises. He thinks about how badly he wants you to stain his mouth with your lipstick, and in that moment, you push him back and shift your weight into his shoulders.

He curses for the nth time and brings one hand up to the base of your neck. You lean into his touch. His thumb brushes over your lips and you suck on his finger. It makes him claw at the small of your back with his other hand.

Gwayne watches the way your body quakes at the force of your actions. He commits the sight to memory as he feels his belly tighten. He pulls his thumb away with a pop and aids your movements with the thrust of his hips. You call his name out like a mantra as you feel pressure building inside you.

And then it was hot and electric. And then you felt yourself melt into a burning mess as slowly your bones turned to jelly.

You fall into his chest and catch your breath. You can feel both your hearts racing with your sweaty skin pressed together like this.

Gwayne wipes his face and brushes his hair back, mind hazy, mouth dry. Before he can bring an arm around you, you're pushing yourself up and climbing off him. He turns to your side, expecting you to lie next to him, but you make him knit his brows when you grab your dress from the floor, "where's your bathroom?"

He rolls on his belly and points, "just outside."

You cover yourself with your dress and pick up your underwear. You quickly find the bathroom and open the light. You give yourself a jumpscare when you catch reflection on the mirror.

You look like you were caught in a violent accident, with your hair messy and your lipstick in places you didn't expect. You body looked horrendous, worse under this lighting. You gulp and wonder how horny Gwyane must have been to want to take you home. You feel pathetic. You feel nasty. It's no wonder why no one's seriously interested in you. You were a disgusting fat fuck who's only point of interest is her pussy.

You wash yourself as much as you can, get dressed, and take a few deep breaths before exiting.

When you step back into his bedroom, you hear music playing. Was that-

"Khiara," Gwayne says, still sprawled on his belly, butt naked. His eyes are on his phone, "she is incredible."

You look around for your purse, wondering if it was here on in his car.

He turns to you when you do not respond, his expression dropping upon seeing you dressed. He sits up, "is something wrong?"

You spot your purse and smile to yourself, "nope. Just need to call an Ubor."

He watches you grab your purse and pull out your phone. It takes a moment for him to register what was happening. His pride is wounded, "you're not going to stay?"

"Like I said, nine to fi-"

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he leans into his thighs.

You glance at him, catching his sullen expression.

"Don't go."

You ignore the bubbling in your stomach. You chew your lip and walk towards him. He watches you intently. You rest your knee on his thigh, and he immediately straightens up to grab your hips. You take his chin and look at the mess on him, your lipstick, your slick, your spit, then whisper, "I've got things to do."

He rubs your sides, "do they do you better than me?"

Neither of you react.

You think about the convenience store you passed on the drive here. You decide you can wait for your Ubor there and pull away from him, "this was really fun, rockstar."

Gwayne huffs, lowers his gaze, and pinches the bridge of his nose, "no, wait-"

"Good night," you walk off.

He grabs his pants, "let me drive you home."

You ignore him and rush to his door, "good night."

"Wait, dammit!"

You sigh in relief once you're out his home. You forfeit the elevator and head to the stairwell. Halfway through your descent, the door above slams open, and you look up to see a frantic looking Gwayne.

"Really?! The stairs?!"

You wrap your arms around yourself, watching him runs down to you. His face is still messy. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his pants aren't zipped. He sighs, shaking his hands, "what?! what? Am I a bad driver?"

You bite your lip and shake your head.

He huffs and waves a hand, "am I a bad lover?"

Your stomach rolls. You turn to your feet, "I wouldn't know, you're not my lover-"

"Fuck- am I a bad... fuck- sexual partner!" he blurts, zipping his pants then adjusting his shoes.

"No," you chuckle guiltily, "you were... you were amazing-"

"Rate it 1 to 10," he begins to button his shirt.

You look up at him incredulously and sigh, "Gwayne, I just really want to go home."

"Then stop bruising my ego and let me take you home," he shakes his hands in frustration. You stare at each other for a moment. The look on his face makes you want to be swallowed by the ground. You go down a few steps, and Gwayne steps once before sighing. He places his hands in his pockets, "I just... I thought it was going really well."

I look up at him.

He another step forward.

Your mind races. You can't help but relive all your bad memories in this moment. The sheen on his chest tells you bad this is going to hurt if you dive into it. Gods, fucking around with someone in Oldtown? You shrug, "it was, I think."

"Then," he steps forward and grabs your shoulders, "let's at least end it on a good note." You watch him motions with his head, "and let's take the fucking lift while we're at it."

He heads for the door. You suck in a breath and simply go down.

Gwayne holds the door for you and does a double take when he sees you walking off "seriously?"

"Stairs or nothing, buddy. I need the cardio."

"Well, if it's cardio you want," he rushes after you, "I am happy to help."

You glare at him once he's beside you.

Gwayne chuckles at it, feigning a look of innocence, "I have a treadmill in my flat. I don't know what you're thinking, dirty girl." You roll your eyes, making him laugh, "well, I mean I do, you practically jumped me."

"Oh, what, like you didn't think of it."

He gasps, "I am a gentleman."

"Mmm, you must think you're cute."

"Not nearly as cute as you," he grabs your arm once you reach the next door in the stairwell, "now for the love of the Mother, let's fucking take the lift."

[starkspondwater]

First Date Insecurities- Insecure!Kyle Broflovski x Shy!Reader

Part 1 x Part 2 x, part 4 x

Summary: Reader and Kyle has their first date, but Kyle is feeling a little inadequate (fluff)

a/n: I only wrote three parts of this because I thought it was sweet, but if there is an interest I could keep going with it

Straightening up, Kyle peered at himself in the mirror above the bathroom sink. Tonight, he’d be picking you up for your very first date and hopefully, if all went to plan, it would go well. He washed up as best he could after classes and attempted to pass the time with various schoolwork and a half hearted attempt at some random video game, but he was nervous. He did not have luck with the ladies and while you seemed to like him now, god knows that could change very quickly. He fussed with his hair ‘one last time’ in an attempt to tame the ginger curls he had only just grown to not completely hate and sighed. It would have to do.

A few streets over, you were also looking into your own mirror, seated at your vanity with various items spread before you. Makeup was not your forte, though you did get up the nerve to consult Bebe just that morning for advice. You slowly lined your upper lids, careful to keep it even and thin. A brush of mascara and a small bit of lipstick had you feeling done with the whole endeavor. Overall, you felt you looked really nice.

Nerves crept up slowly throughout the day, edging further and further until finally it had rushed in in one swoop. You had never really dated before this, despite the small circle that was South Park. What were you even supposed to do? How should you act? What if he wanted to do…other things in the darkness of the theater? You had heard snippets of things other girls your age had done, and blushed at the thought of it before shaking your head.

Kyle had been nothing but a gentleman that last week. He had kept his word of meeting you for lunch in the library, and you had found yourself greatly enjoying the company. You even found some common interests that kept you talking well until the end of lunch bell rang. He seemed genuinely interested in you, but also careful, as though he didn’t want to scare you away. You don’t know why, but that made you a little upset…you weren't that skittish, were you?

The doorbell chimed, signalling the arrival of your date. After a moment, trying to slow the pounding of your heart (to no avail) you left the room. The front door opened, casting a light onto the redhead on your front steps. He was fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket when he looked up, face brightening into a wide smile.

“Hi.” his voice was shy as he looked at you. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes!” snapping out of your reverie. Grabbing your coat you hopped outside, locking the door. You were glad your parents had gone out for dinner, embarrassment was not on your agenda for this evening.

“My dad let me borrow the car, so I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy.” Kyle, ever the gentleman, opened the passenger door for you, waiting until you had tucked your legs inside before shutting it and rushing over to his own side. Pulling out of the driveway, a silence fell over the teens.

Streetlights passed, briefly illuminating the car as they passed by. Kyle lightly drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he tried to think of literally anything to say. As soon as you had opened the door he felt as if the proverbial cat not only caught his tongue, but full on ran off with it.  You looked gorgeous, which you did every day in his eyes, but to know you dressed up for him had his stomach clenching in knots. God, he spent all week talking with you during breaks, why can’t he say anything now?

“You-” you cleared your throat, “you look really handsome tonight.” Kyle glanced over briefly, making sure not to take his eyes off the road for too long, and saw you fidgeting in your seat. You were just as nervous as he was, and somehow that made him feel a bit better.

“I borrowed one of my dad’s jackets…I wanted to look nice for you.” Smooth Broflovski. Real smooth, he thought.

“I think you always look nice.” you said before clamping your mouth shut. Ah. It seemed as though your mouth DID have an agenda to embarrass you tonight. Kyle, thankfully, just chuckled as he pulled up to the curb a few cars down from the entrance of the theatre. 

Confused, you watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat before reaching towards the back. When he sat back, you saw that he had grabbed a single rose, a small ribbon adorning the stem in a little bow. 

“I probably should’ve given this to you when I picked you up, but uh, I was a little nervous.” Even in the dim light you could see his cheeks darkening.

“Why would you be nervous?” you asked. You weren’t formidable Bebe, dressed to impress every day, or strong Wendy who could talk anyone under the table. Before last week you had barely spoken more than a few sentences to the boy in front of you.

“Well, it’s not every day a pretty girl agrees to go out with me,” sheepishly, Kyle held out the rose to you. Wide eyes bounced from the rose in his pale hand, to him, and back again. Slowly, you reached forward and took it, a look of reverence painted on your face. You had only received flowers from your father and brother before, flowers that didn’t hold as much meaning as this one.Your car door suddenly opened and Kyle’s face smiled at you. You hadn’t realized you had just sat there in your own thoughts. Taking his hand, he led you into the building. It took no time at all to purchase tickets, grab popcorn and a soda to share, and find your seats. By the time you two had settled in the lights were lowered and the screen came to life.

Kyle felt as though he was covered in static electricity. He had been on dates before, blind and double dates set up by Stan and Wendy, but this he had done all on his own. This one he actually looked forward to. He was surprised by how his point of view had changed. He spent his childhood in this theatre, and before that’s all it was, but now it was a dark, cozy room that held so much more potential.

As the movie progressed, Kyle found himself turning his head, tuning out the overhead speakers, and observing you. The glow of the silver screen illuminated your face, and from this angle, he could see your long eyelashes, button nose, and perfectly plump lips. You were beautiful, and yet, here with him. You had said he was attractive, but in comparison to you, to others, he didn’t see how you could think that. He wasn’t classically handsome or confidently sexy. He had tons of flaws that, to him, were very visible.

“Kyle!” your voice broke him out of the spell he was under, and instead of staring at your side profile, he was seeing you head on, half your face covered in shadow. “Is everything okay?” the space between your eyebrows creased in concern. He should just play it off, say something cheesy, and enjoy the rest of his time with you. But you had been honest before with him and he felt he should be the same with you.

“I just…I don’t think…” He tried to get his thoughts together. “I don’t think I look very good compared to you, I guess. It’s stupid thoughts, just ignore me.” he whispered. Dammit. He didn’t need to turn this date into a pity party, he already had the term ‘buzzkill’ attached to his person most days, he didn’t need to do it to himself here and now. He was getting into his own head about things. Suddenly, something warm filled his palm and his eyes shot down to see small fingers curling around his own.

“I like everything I see, quite a lot actually,” you whispered, leaning up to his ear.  You were thankful for the darkness as it hid your flushed cheeks. You were never this bold, but to know he thought down on himself in such a way drove you to make sure he knew better. 

Kyle remained silent for a while and fear filled your belly. Did you say something wrong? He didn’t look angry or weirded out, but you couldn’t decipher what look he was giving you. You took this time to really look at his face, taking in every feature. While you loved his bright eyes that showed so much intelligence, so much thought, your favorite feature was much more distinct and centrally located. You had heard comments that Eric Cartman had spewed about his nose, the jokes others made occasionally in jest. To you, it only made him more beautiful. Even with the flickering screen you could see the freckles mapped out across his face.  You wondered just how many there were-

“Can I kiss you?” Despite whispering, his voice rang loudly in your ears.

“Yes.” Simple, and the only word needed before he brought his lips to your own. Eyes fluttered shut and lights danced beyond eyelids. It was short and sweet, different from your time in the closet the weekend before, but still took your breath away. Kyle only gave you a small smile when he pulled away, before leaning in to whisper once more.

“I agree, I like everything I see. ‘Quite a lot actually’” he quoted you before leaning back to watch the remainder of the movie. You could not help the flutters in your chest as you both got lost in your own thoughts, his thumb lightly rubbing circles on the back of your hand. 

You prolonged the walk from the car to your house, hands held shyly between the two of you. It was quiet and peaceful, something difficult to find in South Park. 

“I had a really nice time,” you said, hesitant to let the evening end.

“I did too,” Kyle shifted foot to foot. “I would like to take you out again, if you want,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and gave you a shy look.

Before you could chicken out of it, you lightly pulled the hand you had been holding downward, making the taller boy bend at the waist. Standing on your toes, you placed a warm kiss on the corner of his mouth. Sure, you had kissed before, but this time you wanted to be brave and do it yourself. This was a large step for you, and he knew it. As you pulled back you could see his shy smile had turned into a large dopey grin.

“Call me,” you said, before giving his hand one last squeeze and heading inside, rose clutched in your other hand.

Kyle stood there for a moment, the chill in the air not even touching him at this point with how he felt. Sitting back in his father’s car, he couldn’t help punching the air in front of him in joy. Even with the small snag of his own insecurities, you liked him. HIM. Of all people! 

Driving home, all he could feel was the ghost of your lips on his mouth.

[jules-writes-stories]

Mine | Azris Week | Day 7

Pairing: Azris x Kallias x Viviane | Chapter 2 on ao3

Possibly the most NSFW thing I've ever written. Collab with the fabulous @g00seg1rl who wrote Chapter 1 on a03

Summary | Eris Vanserra strikes a wicked wager with Kallias. The High Lords will swap beloved pets and work as hard as they can to get the other's submissive to "tap out first." Whoever does must host Rhysand's entire Inner Circle during the next Seasonal Courts Summit. Azriel, being hopelessly devoted to Eris, and a wildly competitive Illyrian, will not let his High Lord down.

But Viv and Kallias have some tricks up their sleeves...

Snippet of Chapter Two: To Take is below the divider or over on ao3!

“We go until one of the pets uses their safeword or signal. First to tap out has to host Rhysand and his entire Inner Circle during the Seasonal Court Summit.” 

Eris smirked at the terms as Kallias smiled with cruel arrogance. Azriel knew his family was a lot—Rhysand and Feyre with their heavy handedness, Nesta and Cassian fucking on every surface, and Mor and Amren, who raided the wine cellars of any estate.  He loved them and was allowed to visit when he desired, but his home was with Eris. 

Azriel would not let his High Lord down. 

“We should determine safe signals.” Eris added. He drummed long fingers against the table top. “My pet’s mouth is engaged more often than not. So he’s trained to tap three times.” 

The Autumn Lord dragged Azriel up by his elbow to lean against his side, his pet now half on his lap. He let his other hand thread through the Illyrian’s curls, then tugged his head to the side.  “Lips like these, Kallias, I’m sure you can understand.” 

A flush bloomed up the column of Azriel’s presented throat. He took the chance to study the male who would use him. 

Kallias was attractive in the way all powerful High Lords were. Magic rolled off him in waves and his broad shoulders tapered into a solid chest and waist. His chiseled jaw was squared with a slight cleft that Azriel felt the urge to lick, and his mouth, set in a stern line, was full. 

But while his skin was moon-pale and clear, it lacked the glow Azriel had come to love, and the smattering of golden freckles along a sloping nose. Kallias’s hair was a white silken sheet, a blank canvas to Eris’s cacophony of copper-red and gold. 

Kallias’s gaze was fixed on Azriel’s mouth once more; he watched the Singer with predatory lust. The Illyrian could admit he was aroused at the thought of this powerful High Lord’s desire, of him using Azriel’s body while Eris watched. 

Eris must have sensed it too, for he loosened his hold on Azriel’s hair and slipped a hand into his robe. He pinched a single nipple, flicking the gold hoop, and tugged the chain. “He’s caged right now. I haven’t decided if I will allow you access to his cock or his ass. I won’t give you both.” The High Lord of Autumn took a sip of  wine and appraised his pet. 

“Keep him caged. I want his holes.” Blue eyes traveled from his mouth down the length of his now exposed chest and abdomen.  

Eris smirked at this confession and Kallias immediately realized his error. He’d revealed too much and given Eris the upper hand. 

“Very well. His cock stays locked up. I want access to all of her.” He nodded in Viviane’s direction. She was still, listening to the terms as well. 

A muscle feathered in Kallias’s jaw. He did not want to share his pet in her entirety, but after a moment of hesitation, nodded in agreement. “Fine.”  He sat back in his chair, arms crossed his chest. “What is off limits?” 

Azriel was secure in the knowledge that Eris knew his boundaries— when pleasure shifted to pain. 

Eris hummed, affecting a thoughtful look. “No breaking skin. I don’t want to see a lasting mark on my pet.” 

Kallias glanced down at Viv, his expression thawing during their silent exchange. The High Lord nodded and looked up at Eris. “Same.” He paused, knowing it was his turn to make a term. “No strikes to the face. Do not touch her face.” A small whimper of appreciation came from beneath the table. 

Eris nodded. “Fair. Faces are off limits.” He glanced quickly at Azriel, then back at the High Lord. “Wings are off limits as well. Don’t damage or injure Azriel’s wings, Kallias, or we’ll have an issue.” His eyes took on a vulpine glow and a shiver ran along Azriel’s spine. Viv shuffled from her spot on the floor. 

Kallias’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like being threatened, Eris.” 

Autumn’s Lord leaned back and affected a casual tone. “It's not a threat, frostling, just a warning.” His gilded eyes burned into the other male’s, waiting. The two powerful High Fae remained unbending, sharpened canines bared. Eris sat with a preternatural stillness, waves of heat pulsing from his lithe form.

A log popped in the hearth, breaking the spell. Kallias offered a tight, chilly smirk. “Fine. I will not leave marks upon or strike his pretty wings. But I will be enjoying them. I’ve been wanting to know what  Illyrian wings feel like and I shall.” 

Blue eyes pinned Azriel to his spot where he was once more kneeling on his pillow. “Don’t worry, pretty toy. I’ll make it good for you,” Kallias purred.

Arousal rushed Azriel followed by shame. He only wanted his High Lord—only came undone for Eris. But when he peeked up from beneath his lashes, golden eyes were watching with thinly veiled amusement. Eris knew his pet was enjoying the attention. 

div by @olenvasynyt

Please let me know if you want on/off the taglist (added a few from Goosie's for this one) |

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[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 30, Epilogue - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 634

Previously On...: You and Bucky are probably going to be okay.

A/N: IT'S OUT EARLY!

This is it! The last chapter! OMG!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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10 Months Later

“I refuse to accept this.”

“Well, unfortunately, Boss, it’s my decision to make, not yours,” you told Tony as you finished stacking up the last of your moving boxes. Sixteen years– almost half of your life, now condensed into neat stacks of cardboard, waiting to be loaded into the van that was waiting downstairs.

“What the hell am I supposed to do without you?” Tony asked, dramatically flinging himself on your now bare mattress. “How am I supposed to survive?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s not like you won’t see me every fucking day, dude,” you admonished him. “I still work here, for fucks’ sake. Besides, you refused to let your realtor show me any place you couldn’t see from your terrace.”

“I thought it would be nice if we could wave to each other during breakfast,” he said, his face drawn into a pout now, “that’s all.”

You sat down next to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to cut the umbilical cord, Tony,” you said. 

“But you’re still such a kiddo, Kiddo,” he sighed.

“I meant your umbilical cord, Boss,” you laughed. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll try it for a year or two, figure out I absolutely hate it, and come crawling back, begging for my old room.”

“Don’t press your luck,” Tony said, sitting back up. “I’ll probably turn it into a sauna, or an indoor golf simulator as soon as you walk out that door.”

“Ah, there’s the Tony I know and tolerate,” you said with a smile.

“I’m just going to miss having you around,” he said, his voice now laced with sadness. “Sixteen years together– probably the longest stable relationship I’ve ever had. It’s not going to be the same around here without you.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m going to miss you, too. But you know I need this. After everything that happened last year with Carthage, and Barnes… me spiraling, losing a baby I didn’t even know about, getting shot, and the… complications; all that shit with Steve. I just think I need a fresh start, some place where I’m not reminded of her every time I walk around a corner. It’s the only way I’m going to truly heal.”

“I told you I’d move you to another floor. Hell, I’ll tear down the entire Tower and start from scratch. We can build a whole new compound Upstate or something. You’d never have to set foot in this hallway again,” he said. And you knew he was telling the truth– there was little Tony wouldn’t do to ensure you were comfortable in your old home, but you couldn’t rely on him forever.

“You’ve saved me so many times already, Boss,” you said, looking back at him fondly, “and you know I’m always going to be thankful for that. But it’s time I started working on saving myself.”

“Well, when you make it sound all empowering and shit,” he began, “I start to feel like a dick for protesting.”

You laughed as your phone beeped. Looking at the message, you told him: “Movers are on the way up. I guess this is really it.” You both stood and embraced, Tony leaning down to speak softly in your ear.

“You know you always have a home here, Kiddo,” he said. “Whenever you need it. Even if it’s just for a night, or if you decide you want to come back for good. Door’s always open.”

“And even if it’s not,” you said as the two of you broke away from one another, “I can always hack the system to break myself in.”

“I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

“You think Mr. Mitchell’s still practicing law?” you asked with a grin. “I can definitely afford to have him represent me, now.”

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[morri-draws]

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 15

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 3,084

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Read on Ao3

[this chapter is explicit]

You awaken the next morning with a pounding headache, tossing and turning for an hour or two before finally accepting the fact that you’re not going to fall back to sleep.

You haul yourself out of bed, head spinning and stomach gurgling unpleasantly. Pulling on your robe, you step out of the bedroom, the sunlight pouring through the main chamber’s windows offensive to your squinting eyes.

Thinking back on the events of last night, you recall Gwaine kissing you, the memory sending a pleasant jolt through your body. Having no appetite for breakfast just now, you decide to see how Gwaine is fairing. Returning to your bedroom, you splash your face with water from the basin, get dressed and run the brush through your hair, which is still holding some curl from last night, so you leave it uncovered.

You knock upon arrival at Gwaine’s chamber door, hearing a shuffling from within before he answers, wearing just a loose shirt and trousers, his feet bare and hair slightly dishevelled.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” He steps aside so you may enter.

“I feel terrible. My head…” You sigh as you step inside, pressing your fingers against your temples. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright, just tired really. These days it takes a lot for me to get a hangover,” He grins.

You shuffle to the table and take a seat, Gwaine following your lead and sitting opposite you.

“Have you had anything to eat?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I don’t have much of an appetite,”

“It may not feel like it now, but eating can actually help you feel better. I’ll fetch us something from the kitchens,”

“You don’t have to do that,” You protest.

“Well, I don’t really feel like cooking, do you?”

You shake your head with a smile.

“And besides,” Gwaine continues. “I’m getting hungry. See you soon,”

You stay seated at the table for the first few minutes, but soon grow uncomfortable on the hard chair, so you cross the room to Gwaine’s bed. Your body aches, presumably from the dancing last night, so you lie down, just until Gwaine returns.

You wake up, confused at first as to where you are, until you turn your head to see Gwaine looking at you from the table. You quickly sit up, embarrassed.

“Sorry, I was just trying to get comfortable until you got back. I didn’t plan on falling asleep,” You notice the empty plate in front of him, and the full plate across the table. “How long ago did you return?”

“About half an hour ago,”

You groan as you stand up and head for the table, sitting across from Gwaine and pulling your plate towards you.

“Why didn’t you wake me? Surely the food’s gone cold,” You poke at the rashers of bacon before taking a bite of buttered toast.

“You clearly needed the rest, and besides,” Gwaine smirks. “I liked the way you looked in my bed,”

You cease chewing and look at him, feeling the hot flush coming over your cheeks. He stares back, expression blank apart from a twinkle in his eyes, before breaking into a grin. You shake your head with a smile, taking a bite from a crispy slice of apple.

“Cheeky,” You mutter.

“Only because I like to make you blush,”

“It’s not fair to tease me today, I’m an invalid,” You take another bite of toast.

“Very well, I’ll save it for tomorrow,”

You look up. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I want to take you on another picnic, to the other spot I showed you last time,”

“By the stream?”

“That’s the one. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,”

~

After breakfast the next morning, you visit the market to restock on groceries. Once returning to your chambers and putting your shopping away, it isn’t long before Gwaine arrives. You go with him to the stables, where there are three horses ready and waiting, just like last time. He helps you to mount, mounts his own horse and you’re on your way.

Once out of the city walls, you ride along a path that skirts the woods. Since it’s the same path you took on your last outing with Gwaine, you should feel at ease, but you can’t shake the tense weight that has formed in your chest, finding yourself gripping the reins extra tight, your knuckles white. Any rustle or crack from the direction of the woods has you frantically scanning the tree line, searching for any figures, any danger. Your mouth dries up, jaw clenches, and you urge yourself to calm down, to enjoy the day, but your heart thrums in your chest.

A dark shape darts through the trees and you let out a frightened shout, startling your horse, who rears its head and frets. It’s happening again. Your stomach twists as you wait for rough hands to grab you, and you squeeze your eyelids shut, breathing rapidly.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

You hear Gwaine’s concerned voice and open your eyes. He’s turned his horse to face you, his brow furrowed as he looks you over. Your heart thumps so hard, you’re surprised he can’t hear it, and you feel as if you can’t get enough air in your lungs.

“I can’t,” You pant. “I can’t do this,”

You feel too high up, too exposed. You fumble in the saddle, swinging a leg over to dismount clumsily. Gwaine dismounts from his horse, his movement much more practiced, and rushes toward you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong? Talk to me,”

You glance to the tree line, but stay silent.

“(Y/N),” Gwaine cups your cheek and presses his forehead against yours. “Please tell me what’s wrong,”

You try to steady your breathing, but your voice remains shaky. “Some… someone could be hiding in the trees. I thought I saw… I don’t know… I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Gwaine,”

Your voice cracks and Gwaine envelops you in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his shoulder as he strokes your back gently.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t think,”

You hold him tight, just letting your tears soak into his shirt for a few moments, before he pulls back, holding your face in his hands as he looks you in the eye.

“I promise you, there are no bandits in these woods. They wouldn’t dare come this close to Camelot. In all my patrols, I’ve never seen any bandits hiding out around here. The only things moving about in there are animals. Birds, squirrels… no one is going to hurt you,”

He embraces you again, a hand stroking your hair gently.

“I’m sorry, Gwaine,” You whisper.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,”

He holds you until your breathing slows and your grip on him loosens, when he pulls back and takes your hands in his.

“Do you want to turn back?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I want to keep going,”

“I don’t want you to just say what you think I want to hear. I don’t mind if we turn around. I won’t be disappointed of anything like that. So, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t want this to spoil our day out. I want to ride on, just…” Your eyes dart to the tree line.

“Would it help if you rode with me?”

“I… I think perhaps it would,”

“Alright,” He takes your horses reins, tying them to his, as he did with the pack horse. He leads you to his horse and gives you a leg-up. Once you’re settled in the saddle, he climbs on in front of you. Slipping your arms around his waist, you rest your cheek against his back and he urges the horse forward.

Riding with Gwaine makes you feel much less vulnerable, proving a comfort to have him so close. While your gaze still wanders to the edge of the woods, his words repeat in your mind: They wouldn’t dare come this close to Camelot.

After a while of gentle riding, you arrive at the clearing by the stream, the area even more beautiful than the last time you saw it due to the changing colours of the leaves. Gwaine brings the horse to a halt and dismounts, offering his hand to aid you in doing the same. You help him to remove the saddlebags from the pack horse and lay out the blankets, Gwaine setting out the plates and food. You notice some of the same items as last time, along with some new additions, such as fruit and custard buns, and the same pies you brought to the indoor picnic in Gwaine’s chambers.

“This looks lovely,” You say as you sit on the corner of one of the blankets, legs tucked under you.

He sits down beside you. “You may have noticed that it isn’t all from the palace kitchens this time,”

“I did notice,” You reach for one of the fruit and custard buns. “From our first meal together,” You hold up the bun with a smile.

“Yes, I think that fact has made me even more fond of them now,”

You think back to your first picnic, and how you quashed the urge to kiss him then. Swallowing your last mouthful of the bun, you lean toward Gwaine, pressing your lips gently onto his.

“You know,” You say as you pull away. “I wanted to do that the first time you brought me out,”

“Really?” Gwaine quirks a brow in astonishment.

“Yes, really,” You chuckle, loading up your plate with a bit of everything.

Once you’ve both had your fill, you put your plate aside and lie back on the blanket, looking through the forest’s canopy to the cloudy sky above. Gwaine shortly joins you, arms folded behind his head.

“It’s so peaceful here,” You remark, taking note of the gentle breeze through the leaves, some of which fall from their branches and slowly flutter to the forest floor.

You shuffle closer to Gwaine, your body pressed against his side, and rest your head on his chest, wrapping an arm around him.

You sigh. “This is much better without your armour on,”

He slips an arm behind your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. You feel complete bliss, as if you’ve never been so comfortable in your life and could stay like this forever. Gwaine lightly traces circles with his finger on the bare skin of your shoulder, just above the neckline of your blouse, your skin sensitive to his touch. The only skin-on-skin contact you’ve had with him, apart from recent kisses, has been your hands in one another’s. His gentle touches now have you wanting more.

You shuffle up, propping yourself on one elbow, your face now level with Gwaine’s, and kiss him, tenderly but passionately. You pull back and look him over, giving him a sly smile, before kissing him again, on his neck, swiftly sweeping your tongue over the skin, as you slip a hand underneath the neckline of his shirt, against the skin of his bare chest. He nudges you onto your back, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the skin of your inner wrist. You watch intently as he plants delicate kisses up your arm, making you wish your sleeves weren’t a barrier between your skin and his lips, until at last he reaches your shoulder, past the neckline of your blouse, and kisses the bare skin along your collarbone. He moves up your neck, every kiss like a pleasurable little spark.

He kisses the curve of your jaw, just under your ear, and you turn your head as he pulls back, lips parted. He lowers again, his lips meeting yours, softly at first, but then deepening the kiss, flicking his tongue over your bottom lip. You reach out, combing your fingers through his hair, as he strokes his fingers down to the hollow of your neck, gliding down until reaching your bodice lacing. He breaks the kiss, pulling back, searching your face for permission. You reach for your bodice, untying the knot and unlacing the first few eyelets. Gwaine takes over, hooking a finger under each crossed lace and pulling it through until reaching the bottom. As he removes the last section of lacing, your bodice falls open, revealing the shape of your breasts under your blouse. Gwaine casts the lacing aside and puts a hand around your waist, feeling the curve of it through the fabric, before moving up and cupping your breasts. You reach for the top of your blouse and untie the drawstring, the neckline loosening around your shoulders and chest. Gwaine hooks his fingers around the edge of the fabric and pulls it down, exposing your breasts. He stops to admire them, his eyes dark with arousal, before taking one in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nipple while gently squeezing with his hands. He moves to the other and does the same, before shifting his position and sliding a hand under your skirt and up your leg, his body pressed against your other thigh, where you can feel his hardness against you. A warmth pools between your folds, his evident desire for you fanning the flames of your own.

His fingers brush against the soft skin of your inner thigh, creeping their way up until brushing along the crease where your leg meets your body. He pulls his head back to look at you, his pupils large with desire.

“With your permission, my lady?” His mouth is set in a devilish smile, though he has become completely still, awaiting your response.

You nod. He moves his fingers over your core, feeling the shape of you, then slips a finger between your folds, your slickness immediately evident. He looks up, brows raised.

“Don’t act so surprised,” You laugh. “When you’ve taken your time threatening to make love to me,”

He grins and moves up to kiss you, his hand staying between your legs as he starts to rub small circles over your sensitive bud. He sucks on your bottom lip and slightly pulls back, allowing your sigh of pleasure to escape, before kissing you again, nipping your lip with his teeth. He gives a mischievous smile as he moves back, hitching your skirt up over your knees and lowering his head down between your legs, his hot tongue flicking across your clit. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

“You don’t have to do that,”

He looks up. “Do you not want me to?”

“No, I mean, I like it, just… what about you? Don’t you want anything?”

He chuckles. “This here is exactly what I want,”

You feel your face become hot.

“There are those rosy cheeks I love so much,” He grins, before ducking his head down and continuing, tongue flicking and swirling.

In your building pleasure, you tip your head back, losing yourself in the sky. He teases around your entrance with a finger before slipping it inside you, your breath hitching as he slowly pumps in and out, stroking the place inside which teases the bliss to come.

He works for a time with one finger, while his tongue continues pleasuring you, before adding a second finger, gradually getting faster, his tongue working to keep up. Pleasure builds in your core, and you can feel yourself nearing your crescendo. Propping yourself up again, you watch Gwaine as he works, his dark hair curtaining his face.

He hooks his arms around your thighs, grasping them firmly. Reaching down, you run your hands through his hair, tilting your hips upwards, desperate for release as the sight of him pleasuring you magnifies your sensations. Sensing the crescendo approaching, you hold your breath and brace your body, fist clenched around his dark locks, your core tightening around his fingers until you reach your climax, your entire body releasing, panting moans bursting from you as your core pulses.

Gwaine shifts up and kisses you, the taste of you still on his lips, his fingers still inside you as your pleasure pools around them. Wrapping your arms around him, you hold him close as you ride out the remainder of your pleasure, chest heaving, until at last it calms, your breathing slowing, though your heart still hammers within your chest.

Gwaine gently removes his fingers and rolls over to lie next to you. You nuzzle into his shoulder, resting a palm on his chest.

“Any good?” He asks.

You look up to see him smirking at you.

“What if I said no?”

“I’d say that judging by those sounds you were making, you’d be lying,”

“Then don’t ask silly questions,” You grin.

Slowly tracing down his body with your fingertips, you reach under the hem of his shirt, rubbing your palm along his bare skin, slipping your hand under the waistband of his trousers.

“Your turn now?”

He sighs. “I’m afraid not,” He takes your hand in his, planting a kiss on your fingers as he turns on his side to face you. “I need to head back for training,”

“Training? Should you really be doing that yet?”

“Gaius gave me the all-clear, so long as I slowly work up to things,”

“Might you… skip it, just this once?”

He grins. “I would love to, but I figure, if I don’t show up to training, Arthur will punish me, and he’ll have me polishing boots or scrubbing floors in my free time. But if I just go to training, like the well-behaved knight that I am,” He gives you a sly look. “Then I’ll have the rest of my time free to do whatever I please,”

“That is sound reasoning,” You reply. “So, what about after training?”

Gwaine chuckles, but shakes his head. “I said I’d have dinner with Merlin. I wanted to thank him for all his help these last few weeks. He’s been a good friend,”

Your disappointed must be evident on your face, as Gwaine strokes your cheek with the back of his finger.

“But perhaps I could put it off?”

“No, I don’t want you to put me before your friends,” You reply. “And I’m sure Merlin has been looking forward to spending time with you,”

He smiles and kisses your forehead.

“Since you’re having dinner with Merlin tonight, perhaps you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow? Just me and you, in my chambers?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,”

[moonlight-records]

Light Show Surprise | LS2 (HAC #2)

pairing: ls2 x reader

summary: your favorite activity during the holiday season is to go look at the holiday lights. thankfully, Logan knows just what to do.

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

wc: 913

a/n: day 2 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar!

day 1 | current day | day 3

The holiday season can truly be a fun but overwhelming time for people with how much they can do. From ice skating to s’mores making and even movie marathons. Some people prefer to shop or explore. Your favorite part of the holiday season was the light shows. It was the least overwhelming thing. Being able to just go around and look at all the beautiful lights and see how people decorate. Especially light shows.

Like last year when you went to the Jones Beach light show in New York. You were visiting friends and you all had decided at the last minute to go see the light show. The five of you packed into the car and headed down to the beach, getting a bit lost but eventually found the line of cars and booths to pay, which you all laughed about because it was right there how you guys missed it, you don’t know. You pay per vehicle and slowly drive through seeing all the different designs. Some highlights you saw last year were Barbie, dinosaurs, Santa, and some animals through your drive.

Then halfway through you can stop and get out for the rest room and to see the snack area. They have popcorn, hot chocolate, churros, water and more. They have tables and thankfully it’s indoors so it’s warm. Outside they have a makeshift ice rink along with some bonfire stations for s’mores and a giant Christmas tree to take pictures which you and your friends took advantage of. Then you guys hopped back into the car, the sunroof opened (cause your friend insisted on sticking his head out like a dog) before it was over and you guys went off to Applebees for half apps and drinks.

It was a great night. You hope you can do it again sometime.

“Babe!”

“Coming!”

You finish applying your mascara and come downstairs. Logan is standing by the front door and breaks into a grin as you come over. Wrapping his arms around you, he gives you a quick kiss. “Ready to go?”

“Yep!”

“Do you have everything?”

Opening your bag you go through your checklist. “Phone, wallet, keys, portable charger, headphones and gum and since you won’t tell me where we’re going,” you tease, “I think I have everything for tonight.”

“I don’t think so. I think you’re forgetting this.” Logan holds up your coat and you laugh as you put it on. “Now we’re ready.” Pulling back, Logan takes your hand and leads you out.

The car ride is delightful. You get to control the aux and you switch between singing and yapping poor Logan’s ear off as he drives. Logan tells you to close your eyes about five minutes away from the surprise. You do and even cover your eyes with your hands as you start asking questions about the surprise. Logan just laughs and tells you that you’ll find out soon enough.

You keep your eyes covered when the car parks and Logan comes over to help you out of the car. You let Logan gently guide you as you can make out other people talking. It feels like forever when you two finally stop. “Okay,” Logan says, “open your eyes.”

You open your eyes and blinks to adjust for the change of lighting. You gasp softly seeing all the lights around St. Augustine that you can see while standing at the Bay front near Castillo De San Marcos. You turn to Logan, eyes wide in awe. “Logan.” You start, at a loss for words.

“Surprise!” Logan grins.

“Oh Logan, this is wonderful!” You start, “though why are we kind of far?”

“Well, that’s why.” Logan gestures to the red carriage coming forward. The carriage stops in front of you two and Logan quickly talks to the driver to confirm the carriage for them before he climbs in and offers his hand to you before pulling you up. You immediately sit, cuddling up to Logan’s side as you take in the carriage and notice the flowers decorating the back before the carriage starts with a slight jerk as you cuddle in a bit closer.

The carriage was a 30 minute ride. The carriage didn’t go over bridges and really focused on downtown but it gave you two the best view of the lights around St. Augustine. You happily ramble softly to Logan as you take in the sights of the lights. You glance at Logan from time to time, when he points out lights that you missed or any cute dogs he’s spotted on the tour, or just listens to you ramble with the warmest smile.

When the two of you arrive back at the Bayfront Logan helps you out of the carriage before tipping the driver. You wait for Logan before smiling as he takes your hand and starts leading you back towards the lights. “Oh Logan, this is amazing,” you gush as you lean into your boyfriend’s side, smiling up at him.

“Good! I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Logan kisses his forehead, “now come on, we have to snag some photos. I think I improved on my boyfriend's duty of taking photos.”

“You really want to make up for your horrible Thanksgiving post, don’t you?”

“Noooooo…” Logan glances at you and smiles sheepishly, “maybe.”

You can’t help but laugh and steal a kiss from Logan, “you’re so cute and you’re lucky I am feeling such festive joy that we can go take photos.”

Logan grins, “perfect.”