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nadvs · 3 months ago

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out of bounds (part two)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one

» masterlist

Your footsteps fall in and out of rhythm with Zach’s as you walk over the soccer field.

Even under the inky night sky, you can easily make out the sharp white lines spray-painted on the pitch as he stands across from you, your back to the net.

As a center back, this is where you spend most of your time in a game, defending directly in front of the goal. You used to love the nerves you’d feel before a match, but by the final month of the school year, you’d start every game already waiting for it to end.

You hope you can fix that this summer. And Zach is the perfect person to practice against since his main objective in his position is scoring.

He picked up a soccer ball from a storage shed on the way over, tossing it in his hands. You wonder if he offers to help all the newbies work on their game or if it’s just you.

“I don’t know if you know this,” you say, “but the ball’s supposed to be on the ground.”

“Most people say thank you when someone does them a favor,” he jokes, dropping the ball and dribbling it between his feet.

“I think you need to actually do the favor first,” you reply.

Zach smirks. He’s always been the type to chase the feeling of fun, and right now, he enjoys how easy things are with you.

He kicks the ball to you, and you stop it under your foot.

“Don’t go easy on me,” you say. “I’m serious.”

Zach sighs with a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… my sister says that to me all the time,” he says. The memory makes his chest pinch. This is the hardest part of being at camp for seven weeks. It’s only been one day and he misses his family already.

At least when he’s at college, he can visit whenever he wants, but at camp, it’s a no go.

“Does she play soccer, too?” you ask. The ball scruffs over the grass when you kick it back to him.

“No, Avery hates sports,” he says. “It’s when we play video games. She kicks my ass and she tells me to stop letting her win when I’m genuinely trying my hardest. It’s embarrassing.”

“How old is she?”

“Ten.”

You smile. It’s sweet that he spends time with his kid sister.

“And she beats you? That is embarrassing.”

He kicks the ball to you with a chuckle.

“So, she’s not interested in coming here?” you ask, considering Camp Summit is for kids in her age range.

“No chance,” he says. He asks about your family and you continue to chat about your home life while kicking the ball back and forth until you eventually decide to do what you came out here for.

“You ready?” he asks, heading backwards a few steps.

“Give me your worst.”

Zach jogs towards you, expertly kicking the ball with every stride, approaching you quickly. You keep your eyes trained on his movements and the ball, reading the opponent’s body like you always do.

You shift between your feet quickly, trying to gain possession. He side-steps and fakes right, but you notice it in the way he’s positioned, and you take the window of opportunity to steal the ball.

You succeed and rush past him, then turn to smile at him, locking the ball under your foot.

“Jeez,” Zach says, hands on his hips. “Nice one.”

“Stop,” you laugh, convinced he’s just trying to flatter you.

“How’d you catch my fake-out?”

“It’s all in your body language,” you say. You kick the ball to him.

“So, you’re looking at my body,” he says, his tone sarcastically suggestive.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you laugh, heading to where you were standing originally to reset.

“Too late.” He rushes back to the center of the field.

Your cheeks go warm. He wouldn’t risk dating at work. It’s against the rules. You could both lose your jobs.

But what’s the harm in flirting? He seems to like to do it with you just as much as you do it with him.

Zach jogs towards you again and you turn with him slightly, closing the distance once he comes close enough, mirroring him as he darts over the grass.

“It’s good that you don’t dive in right away,” he says between breaths. “I always get past defenders when they rush me.”

“Are you trying to distract me with flattery?” you ask.

“If it’s working, yeah,” he replies.

You laugh and continue to jockey, both of you moving with sharp, fast movements as he shuffles with the ball.

It’s a struggle, but eventually, he gets past you, sending the ball flying in the net.

“One-one,” he says. “You really made me work for it, though, huh?”

As you watch Zach run to grab the ball out of the net, you’re taken by how kind he is. Even after he gets a ball past you, he compliments you.

You refocus when he resets and jogs down the field towards you again. As the night goes on, you start to feel comfortable enough to make contact with each other, brushing arms and legs.

You stop keeping score, but it feels pretty equal by the time you’re huffing from all the exercise.

“You good to call it?” he asks, looking down at you as he pants after you steal the ball from him yet again.

“Yeah. I think that was more than ten minutes.”

His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he smiles. He completely forgot he was out here with you, under a time limit, all because he was waiting for his friend to escort yours out of his cabin.

“I noticed something you do,” he says as you walk off the field together, taking turns kicking the ball far ahead of you. “You kind of give up when you think you won’t win the ball.”

“Why waste the energy?” you respond with a tired laugh. You check your phone to see that it’s almost 10:30.

“My coach always tells us that you have to believe that you’ll win every tackle,” Zach says. “It seems like you tell yourself you might as well stop trying.”

You consider his words. It’s true. It’s a bad habit you’ve picked up in the past year, a result of your dwindling confidence. And he’s a sharp player for catching that weakness.

Zach watches you, afraid he might have offended you.

“I hope I didn’t - that wasn’t out of line, was it?”

“No, no,” you say. “You’re totally right. Thanks. It’s helpful.”

You reach the dirt path, approaching the storage shed. He puts the ball away and joins you again as you make your way towards the staff cabins in the humid night.

“Gotta be honest,” he says, thinking back to what you said by the fire, “I’m surprised you’re not confident in your game.”

“My team doesn’t do that well,” you admit. It feels like you’re constantly ruminating over last season’s win/loss ratio.

“And what, that’s your fault?” he asks.

“I am usually the last one the other team crosses before scoring,” you say with a shrug.

“Actually, the goalie is.”

“No, she’s great,” you reply. “It’s not on her.”

Zach snorts.

“What?”

“You don’t blame her, but you blame yourself,” he says. “Makes sense.”

You nudge his firm shoulder. The contact is brief and playful and you’re comfortable doing it now considering you got so close on the field.

Zach nudges you back, touching you as if he always does. As if you didn’t just meet today.

“You mad I’m right?” he says.

“A little,” you reply with a small smile.

You reach your cabins. The shirt on his door is gone. It seems like your cabin-mates are back to their respective beds.

“Yeah, I’m still knocking very loudly just in case,” Zach says.

“Good call,” you laugh, heading towards your cabin. “Thanks again for the help.”

“Any time,” he says. You hope he means it.

Ami’s sitting up in her bed when you come through the door.

“Hey,” she says, “I’m surprised the bonfire went that long.”

“It didn’t,” you reply. “I was out practicing defense with Zach. Because his cabin was occupied.”

Ami grins. After she gives you a recap of her time with Malcolm, which she says went no further than heavy making out, she turns the attention back to you.

“How was practice?” she says. “If that’s what actually happened.”

“It is,” you laugh. “Great. He’s really good.”

“At what?” she asks suggestively.

“At soccer,” you laugh again. “We honestly just practiced. And even if he’s into me like that, he seems serious about the no dating rule. I wouldn’t risk it, either. I don’t know what you’re planning with Malcolm but apparently they’re actually strict about it, so be careful.”

“I will, but I’m not worried. We talked about how we’ll only be casual. And discreet. You be careful, too, okay?”

“Nothing to be careful about,” you say with a shrug.

“So, if Zach asked you out, you wouldn’t be down?”

Truthfully, you’re not sure you’d be able to resist dating him, even if it had to be in secret. Zach is impossible not to like.

“It’s not happening,” you simply reply.

Just like every other year, welcoming campers the next morning is havoc. Zach feels a sense of pride when he sees a familiar face, another kid who loved this place so much that they wanted to come back.

After the campers are directed to their cabins, orientation is held at the dining hall, followed by breakfast.

Voices bounce loudly around the hall as kids dig into their food, every counselor sitting at the head of the table with their cohorts.

He makes conversation, asking his boys questions to encourage them to talk with each other. His eyes flit up to you every so often, hoping he doesn’t get caught staring.

You’re sitting a few tables away, smiling as you chat. He almost can’t believe how much fun he had with you on the pitch under the stars last night.

Things are just so simple with you. He doesn’t have to think about what to say, because he knows you’ll play along or just laugh at his dorky joke. He likes you. A lot.

The rest of the day is dedicated to games across the campground, with training scheduled to start tomorrow. At one point, you ask over the walkie-talkies if anyone knows where extra flags for a game are kept.

Zach replies to check the top shelf of one of the storage sheds. You thank him and even though all he does is say You got it, newbie over the radio, you think about the way he said it for much longer than you would if it were anyone else.

Lunch goes by quickly, followed by more games. Throughout the day, Zach has noticed that one of his new campers, Oliver, has kept to himself. He tried to talk with him every so often, but he just got one-word answers.

So, when Oliver approaches him before Zach blows his whistle to signal the start of the last game of the day, he’s hopeful that he’ll ask about the game and finally show some interest in camp.

“I don’t want to do this game,” the little boy says. “I’m tired.”

It’s disappointing, but Zach doesn’t want to push him. Some kids just need time.

“That’s okay,” Zach says. “You can go sit in the shade. No pressure.”

Half an hour later, everyone goes to the dining hall for dinner.

While he eats, Zach is already exhausted and regrets volunteering to do one of the overnight shifts the first day. Every night, four counselors are scheduled to sleep in one of the four camper cabins, so that campers aren’t ever left without supervision.

It’s a guarantee of a bad sleep. Kids are always way too excited to do anything but talk to each other in their bunks on the first night, having to be reminded over and over that yes, even whispering counts as talking.

But Zach has always hated disappointing people, so he couldn’t risk letting down his aunt and uncle by not volunteering. He has the longest tenure of any other counselor here. He needs to set a good example.

After dinner, the kids are given free time before lights out, free to either hang out in their cabins or by the campfire. This gives some of the staff a moment to congregate by the dock, offering the perfect spot to keep an eye on campers without being heard by them.

It’s just past dusk as you stand by the boarded walkway leading into the shallow waters, looking out to your cohort of campers around the fire. You hear Zach ask about how the first day has been.

You look over to see him chatting with a couple of other counselors, a big smile on his face. It’s a good reminder that he’s simply a friendly guy and might not even be into you like that.

But when his eyes land on you and his smile gets a little wider, your heart refuses to agree with your mind. He must feel something, too.

Zach shifts closer to you, crossing his arms. His biceps bulge under his t-shirt. You quickly tear your gaze off of his muscles and up to his blue eyes.

“You surviving?” he asks.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Don’t know. Some people just don’t have what it takes.”

“You’re so much nicer to the other counselors,” you tease, looking down and shaking your head.

Zach feels himself blush, tense that you’re calling him out for brazenly flirting with you. But when your eyes flitter back to his, he can tell by your innocent smile that you don’t have any intention to embarrass him.

“It’s all an act,” he says. You laugh and cross your arms, mirroring him. “Your kids getting along?”

“I think so,” you say. “They already have their little cliques.”

“Yeah, that happens,” Zach says. He looks out to the campfire and you catch his smile slowly fade, his strong jaw tensing.

“How about yours?” you ask.

“Got one who seems like he really doesn’t want to be here at all,” he admits.

You follow his eye-line to the boy sitting on the steps of a camper cabin, staring down at the book in his hands as he reads under the porch light.

“Usually with those kids, it just takes a few hours and they settle in,” he says, “but I don’t know. I’ll give it another try.”

Sure enough, when Zach crosses the distance and asks Oliver what he’s reading, he answers with the title, then ducks his head to quickly back to reading.

You notice from far away, confident that if you were close enough, you would see disappointment on Zach’s face.

The next morning, Zach is even more tired than he expected. The overnight shift was full of interruptions. He’s sure he’ll sleep like a rock tonight.

As everyone sits in the dining hall for breakfast, you dig into your food, listening to your campers talk to each other.

Then, your eyes drift over to Zach. You realize he was already looking at you. It makes your stomach go numb. He quickly glances away.

You notice that the same kid he talked about last night is sitting at the end of the table, alone, picking at his food. Considering how helpful Zach has been, and simply because you like him, you decide to see what you can do.

Near the end of breakfast, campers begin to clear off and put away their plates, and you walk over and crouch at the end of Zach’s table.

The boy looks up at you with an unreadable expression. You introduce yourself, pointing to your name-tag, asking him his name.

“Oliver,” he says, looking back down. You notice he hardly ate anything.

“How are you liking camp?” you ask quietly. Your eyes dart up to look at Zach at the other end of the table. His lips quirk into a hint of a smile.

“I’m not,” he answers.

“Is there anything that would make you feel better?” you offer.

“Leaving,” he says. You stifle your frown.

“Besides that,” you reply. “And you can be totally honest.”

“The food here sucks,” he mumbles. You look down at the uneaten pancake he’s pushing around with his fork.

“What if we got better pancakes?” you ask.

“I don’t want pancakes,” he replies. “I want waffles.”

“Waffles,” you say with a smile, glad you at least got an answer. You stand. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Oliver looks up at you with surprised eyes. Something tells you that he isn’t used to being asked what he wants and actually getting it.

You head back to your table to rally your girls, but you find Zach before counselors start leading their groups outside.

“You said you had connections, right?”

Zach turns to see you standing behind him, trying to ignore the fact that his stomach flips when he makes eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” he says. Campers rush around you as you stand by the front door of the dining hall.

“If you can sneak in some waffles, I think Oliver might like it a little better here,” you say.

“He told you that?” he asks.

“No, I’m a mindreader,” you tease. “Yes, he told me that.”

Zach smirks as you turn away to rush back to your group. He can’t stop smiling even after you’re gone.

It’s a long, hot day. You were disappointed when you saw the schedule this morning, because while you like all the vets, you had hoped Zach would be one of the counselors you’d be paired with for drills today. Maybe tomorrow.

All afternoon, your walkie kept crackling and losing signal. You mention it to one of the directors, Ruby, when you see her by the main office and she promises to get you a new one soon.

After the campers go to bed, you head back to your cabin, expecting to see Ami. But her bed is empty. You double-check the schedule in the staff group chat to confirm she isn’t one of the overnight shifts tonight.

You figure she’s hanging out somewhere else on the campground. You settle in for the evening with a shower, then get into your pajamas and decide to do some skincare and self-pampering.

Zach lets out a tired, heavy sigh when he sees Malcolm’s text. He exits the dining hall and steps into the thick night air, rereading the message from his cabin-mate.

Ami’s over. I’ll text when she’s gone.

He just came back from the closest grocery store specifically to buy as many boxes of frozen waffles as he could carry after he got the okay from his aunt. He used up all the freezer space he could find in the dining hall kitchen and now, he just wants to lie in his bed.

He’s not sure what to do. He’s never been that confrontational at work, preferring to keep the peace, but if this becomes a habit of Malcolm’s this summer, he’ll have to say something to him.

He heads towards his cabin, just in case his best friend texts in the meantime. He doesn’t.

Before he can turn around to go sit by the lake to kill time, he notices the light spilling out from behind the edges of the blinds on your cabin window.

Maybe you’d like to keep him company like you did the other night. Without much more thought, he knocks on your door.

When you open it, you’re in pajamas, your hair wet from the shower, pink gel strips under your eyes.

Zach smiles, thinking you look adorable and wishing he could say it out loud.

“Hey,” you say. You notice he’s still in his work clothes, even though lights out for campers was over an hour ago. “What’s up?”

“I was, um… I was gonna see if you wanted to hang out,” he says, holding up his phone. “I just got the text version of the shirt on the doorknob.”

You laugh and quickly clue in that Ami is with Malcolm next door.

“So, that’s where she is,” you say. “Come in. We can hang out here.”

When the door shuts behind Zach, you wonder if he also feels the weight of the privacy you two have now. This is different from being out on the pitch the day you met. There’s no chance of anyone seeing you behind your closed cabin door. It’s intimate. Almost risky.

“How was your day?” you ask, sitting on your bed as Zach settles on the chair tucked under your desk.

You’re trying to act casual and relaxed, but it’s hard to when you meet his eyes. He’s too cute not to get shy around.

“Well, I just went into town to buy like, ten boxes of Eggos,” he tells you. “That’s a first.”

“Did you really?”

“I thought it’d only be fair if I got enough for my whole group,” he explains. “Turns out we don’t have a waffle maker, but we do have toasters, so it was the best I could do.”

“Nice,” you say. “I’m glad the kitchen staff were cool with it.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “I’m actually sneaking in the kitchen tomorrow morning to make them. The cooks have more than enough work, so as long as I don’t get in their way, I think I’m good.”

You still for a second, endeared. You knew he’d make an effort to help Oliver feel welcome, but he’s going to all these lengths just to make a kid happy?

“Anyway, my point is, thanks for the intel,” he says, realizing he’s tiredly rambling. “I appreciate you talking to him.”

You bashfully glance away. He tries not to stare at you. It feels like trying not to stare at you is all he does when he’s around you.

He’s damn near enamored. He likes the smell of your shampoo, the way you look in your pajamas, how sweet your smile is. He hopes his nervousness isn’t obvious.

“No problem,” you say. “So, you haven’t been in your cabin at all since lights out?”

Zach shakes his head, his smile not quite meeting his eyes. He’s clearly tired and bothered by his cabin-mate kicking him out of his room. You wonder if he’ll say anything to Malcolm, but for his sake, you decide to keep the atmosphere light.

“I have a lot of these,” you offer, pointing to the under-eye strips on your face. “You wanna try? It’ll help you relax.”

“Is it that obvious that I need to relax?” he says.

You only smile in response and stand to pick up a stack of multi-colored packets of gel strips from the basket on your dresser and hold them out to him.

Zach’s eyes travel over the colorful array, sitting still as you stand over him. You’re not surprised that he’s actually going along with it.

Some guys would be tense, acting like skin-care is feminine, and therefore, embarrassing, but he’s relaxed and nothing but green flags, like usual.

“Lots of options here,” he says pensively.

“Are you always this indecisive?” you tease after a long moment of quiet.

Zach looks up and pretends to glare, but the dimples framing his stifled smirk give him away.

“You mad I’m right?” you echo his words from last night.

“A little,” he says, just like you did. You got him pegged. He’s always been bad at making choices, especially under pressure.

“I can pick for you.”

“Bossy,” he replies. “But, yeah. Pick. Please.”

You laugh and randomly choose a packet, opening the purple packaging for him and holding out the film. He takes it in his hand, looking at it with furrowed brows.

You decide to help him out. It’s what a friend would do.

“Here,” you say softly, pushing down your nerves. Warm eyes meet yours and you try to act composed. You peel off one of the strips, pressing it up just above his cheekbone. His skin is hot, his stare strong.

You step a little closer, focus etched onto your face, the corners of your lips slightly turned up. As you apply the other strip, your legs brush against his knees and he imagines how nice it’d feel to drag his hands up the backs of your thighs.

You’re so close and so pretty that it almost hurts not to touch you how he’d like to. You’re just as flirty with him and he’s sure you’d want his hands on you like that, but he’d ask before doing it. That is, if you weren’t coworkers.

You can’t help but giggle when you step back to look at him.

“What, is purple not my color?” Zach asks.

“No, it totally is,” you reply. “Keep them on until they feel dry.”

You settle in your bed again, your back pressed against the wall, legs stretched out.

“How was your day?” he says, having to clear his throat. “I never asked.”

“Yeah, you didn’t. Rude.” Zach smiles at your joke. “It was good. My first overnight shift is tomorrow. How was it last night? Did you actually get any sleep?”

“Not really,” he admits. “But the first night is always the roughest. You’ll be fine.”

He fails to stifle a yawn. You figure that after a bad sleep, a busy day, and running an errand in town, he must be exhausted. Once again, like it always does with Zach, your curiosity is too strong to ignore.

“Does this bother you?” you ask, vaguely motioning in the direction of his cabin.

Right now, Zach doesn’t mind Malcolm keeping him out because it means time with you. And while he’d normally say something like that openly, never having been one to shy away from sharing thoughts like these with a girl he likes, the stakes are so much higher right now.

Because dating is against the rules. Because you might reject him. Because he’s actually never been this nervous around a girl before.

“It’s okay,” he simply says. You wonder if he’s just not one to stand up to people.

“I can talk to Ami if it becomes a problem,” you tell him. “I won’t say you said anything, but let me know if you want me to mention it.”

Before he can reply, there’s a knock on your door. You answer it to see Ruby standing at your front step holding out a new walkie.

“Hey,” she says. “Sorry you had tech issues today. We can swap.”

“Oh, perfect,” you say. “It’s no problem. Thank you.”

Zach freezes when he sees his aunt. This looks like… well, it could simply look like two friends hanging out. But it might look like more.

As you take the new walkie and cross your small cabin to exchange it for your malfunctioning one, Ruby catches Zach’s gaze and offers him a genuine but confused smile.

He decides to try to act normal, even though he feels like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“She’s not going to get in trouble for breaking it?” Zach jokes, pointing to you.

“I didn’t break it,” you reply with a laugh as you hand the old walkie to your boss. “I’m not in trouble, though, am I?”

“Nope,” Ruby says lightheartedly. Zach nervously chews the inside of his cheek. Her tone could mean that while you’re not in hot water, he is.

He watches you shut the door. It’s not like you got caught hooking up. But he wouldn’t even be able to explain what he’s doing here. It would mean snitching on his best friend for breaking one of the major rules staff need to follow.

A rule that it looks like he’s breaking. His stomach twists. He always hated disappointing authority figures, especially ones he so badly wants to impress.

When you settle on your bed again, you notice Zach peeling off the gel strips, his lips in a firm line.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Thanks for these.”

“Sure. Doesn’t seem like they relaxed you, though.”

Zach tosses the patches in the wastebasket and stands. Your heart sinks when you realize he’s leaving.

“They did. I just wanna lie down,” he says with a soft chuckle, hoping he’s not being terse. “I’m beat.”

“You can rest here while you wait for-”

“No, it’s alright,” he interrupts, heading for the door. You realize his whole demeanor has shifted after Ruby popped by.

Zach looks over his shoulder to see your features drawn in confusion and sadness. He opens his mouth before the words come to him seconds later.

“Sorry,” he says. “It was fun hanging out with you.”

“You, too,” you reply, your smile erasing the hurt on your face. You want to tell him he’s welcome any time, but he leaves in a rush.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking or maybe he’s simply a nice person, but you’re sure you both feel the magnetism between you.

And he must be really freaked out at the thought of you doing something about it, based on how stiff he got after Ruby came by, possibly suspecting that things are more than friendly between you.

The more time you spend together, the thinner the ice you’re skating on gets. You don’t want to risk the fall and cost you both your jobs.

So, as you get up to brush your teeth, you promise yourself that no matter what, you’ll keep things strictly professional. For your sake and Zach’s.

(part three)

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oneforthemunny · 2 years ago

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what is and what should never be |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 2

prompt: you agree to go on a date with mr. munson.

part 2 of the older!eddie x reader series.

reader is of age, 25 or 26 in this story. Eddie is 42. if this isn't your thing, don't read, but everything is consensual.

contains: age gap, language, drinking, smoking, p in v sex, oral, fingering. mentions of divorce & Eddie was previously married. 18+ minors DNI I'm so serious.

Your knee bounced underneath the table, polished nails tapping against the faux-leather lined menu in your hand. Eddie sat across from you, coolly, scanning the menu over. His eyes would raise to meet yours, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips when your eyes locked, sending a blush up your neck and to your cheeks. You were thankful for the dim lights in the bar.

He'd picked you up at your apartment in his truck, extending a bouquet of red roses to you when you descended. You'd gushed over them, cheeks heating to match the flowers in your hands.

"Told you I was old school, sweet thing." Eddie purred, sending you a wink that made your thighs clench together.

Eddie took you to a bar just a little outside Hawkins. It was clear it had been newly renovated to match the rising Art Deco aesthetic, but it was nice, private.

"So," Eddie placed his menu down, looking at you carefully. "Brielle tells me you're a teacher."

You nodded. "Yeah, first grade at Hawkins Elementary."

Eddie smiled. "You like it?"

"Love it." You smiled back. "A little exhausting at times, but they're the sweetest. A good age."

Eddie nodded. "Yeah, Brie was sweet when she was that age." He paused. "Not that she's not sweet now, but... God, she's a teenager."

You laughed. Eddie shook his head gently. "Sometimes I miss when she was that age." He sighed. "I mean, at least she wasn't sneaking out, and if she was bad, I just threatened the tell Santa."

You smiled sweetly, your heart swelling. "Where is Brielle tonight?" You asked. "Maddy said she was grounded."

"She is." Eddie grumbled. "But she's at her mom's tonight. Gina usually keeps her every other weekend when I work."

You pressed your lips together, looking back down at the menu. This was the first Eddie had spoke of Brielle's mother. "How long were you two together?" You asked as nonchalantly as you could, lifting your eyes carefully to meet his. You'd hoped you weren't too obvious.

Eddie's grin told you otherwise. "A coupla years." Eddie shrugged. "We met when we were young. Had Brie, tried to stay together for her, but..."

"But?" You questioned, lifting a brow.

"But we hated each other." Eddie scoffed with a laugh. "I shouldn't say that. I don't hate her. We just... We would fight all the time. To the point where Brielle asked Santa for us to stop fighting one year."

You cringed slightly. "Oh," you gritted. "That's rough."

Eddie nodded, shrugging. There was a pause, a moment of silence that laid thick in the air between you two. "You from Hawkins?"

You nodded. "Pretty much. Moved here when I was seven."

Eddie smirked. "So not that long ago, huh?" He teased.

You blushed, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Ha-ha." You deadpanned sarcastically.

Eddie held his hands up in mock defense. "I'm just trying to address the elephant in the room, sweetheart."

You pressed your lips together, fighting back your uncomfortable grin. "I thought this was just a thank you dinner, Mr. Munson?" You challenged, playfully raising a brow. Two could play this game.

You smirked when you saw his cheeks flush underneath the light, lips twitching and twisting into a smug smile. "If that's all you want it to be, that's all it'll be." Eddie said, fingers tapping on the table. "But I am having a good time talkin' to you."

You giggled. "Yeah?" Eddie nodded. "It's been nice talking to you too." You agreed with a breathy sigh. "The last few times I've been on a date it's been..." You cringed at the memory. "This is way better, let's just say that."

"So it is a date?" Eddie asked, raising a brow playfully. The wrinkles in his forehead deepened as did the small ones by his eyes.

The waiter brought you your drinks, saving you from a response. You sipped your gin and tonic, twisting the lemon curl on the straw, peering over the glass at Eddie.

Eddie lifted his whiskey out to you in a toast. "A thank you," he said. You smiled, clinking your glass delicately against his.

***

It happened so quick.

One drink turned to two, three, four. Next thing you knew, you were pressed in the backseat of the pick up truck, not even out of the parking lot. The two of you had shut the place down, Eddie slipping into your booth after the third drink, one arm around your shoulders with you pressed to his side.

He smelled like spicy aftershave mixed with cigarettes and the whiskey. The whiskey that you could taste on his tongue now. It clouded your mind, made your head spin and swirl until your only thought was him.

You don't know what came over you. Eddie had paid the tab, walking the two of you out to his truck. He'd placed his hand on the small of your back- respectfully- to keep you steady, even opening the door for you. Instead of getting in, you'd kissed him. Hard and deep, underneath the lamp post, tangling your hands in his hair.

Now he was on top of you, forearms planted on either side of your head to keep himself above you. You were beneath him, writhing and grinding into his thigh, feet sliding the length of his calf.

"Sweetheart," Eddie breathed, pulling apart so he hovered above you. His curly tendrils fell onto your cheeks, ticking them. "This is great. Really great, but..."

You took a sharp breath in. You knew it was coming. The inevitable 'I can't do this with you'. You were stupid to think this was going to work. You knew better.

"... My back is killing me." Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he adjusted so he was knelt between your legs, still hunched in the back of the car.

You blinked. "What?"

Eddie scoffed lightly, grinning. "I'm not young like you, baby." He smiled. You smiled gently, adjusting so you scooted back into the seat. "I gotta go somewhere where I'm not so cramped if you wanna do this. How about we go back to my place? Only if you want to."

You nodded, biting your lower lip carefully. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Eddie didn't wait long after the two of you stumbled through the front door, limbs clinging and grabbing, sloppy and needy kisses to each other. You dropped to your knees in the entrance way, his hands planted on the front door behind you.

Hands fumbling with his belt as his hands found your hair as you licked his tip, one hand gripping the back of his thigh to keep you steady, and the other cupping his balls, squeezing as you rolled them.

"Fuck, baby." Eddie groaned. "Just like that. All the way. Good girl." He groaned, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. You felt another gush of wetness flood your panties, clenching around nothing as you took him deeper.

You swallowed him as far as you could, only gagging when he pushed past your throat. "You can do it. Atta girl, good girl. Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby?" Your nose brushed against his coarse hair at the base of him, eyes pricking with tears.

He pulled out of you unexpectedly, a small whimper leaving your lips. "That's a good girl." Eddie cooed, calloused fingers wiping the wetness from under your eyes. "Someone's gotta take care of you, huh? Your turn now."

Eddie had you on the couch for at least forty five minutes after. Legs over his shoulders, your nails digging into the cushions behind you as you sobbed, crying out his name as he devoured into your pussy. He was a pro, that much was for certain.

When you'd told him that, spacey from your second orgasm, he'd laughed. "Years of practice, baby doll." He'd winked, smooching the inside of your thigh sloppily before letting his fingers run through your slick, sensitive folds.

He'd finally got you into his bed, stumbling down the hallway, before you propped yourself on all fours near the edge of the bed. He'd fucked you, hard. The squelch of your pussy being filled with him echoing off the walls, mixed with whimpers and groans from the both of you.

You'd pushed him on the bed, climbing on top before you sank down on his cock. It was a thank you for the dinner, and for everything afterwards. Nails dug into his tattooed chest, brows pinched and eyes shining. You felt so full of him. The head of his cock bumped the spongey spot that made you gush, leaving your body electrified and on fire.

He could feel your walls clench again, another sign that you were close. Eddie's hands dug into the meat of your hips and ass, a low grunt falling from his chest.

"Y'gonna cum for me, sweet thing? Yeah?" Eddie whispered, your whiny response making his cock twitch. "Go ahead. Cum all over me. Soak me, sweetheart." His fingers traveled up your body, flicking and twisting your pebbled nipples.

You clenched, rhythm stuttering. "Oh, fuck," You whined, high and nasally. "I'm gonna-fuck- I'm gonna-"

Your brain blanked, eyes rolling back as you clamped down on him, leaning forward for support as he held you up. Eddie smirked, moving you so you were on your back, his dick never leaving you.

"'M gonna finish up, alright? I'm close." Eddie whispered, pressing lazy kisses up and down your neck. You could barely register what was happening, sensitive and starry eyed still as he thrusted in you.

"You're such a pretty little thing, aren't ya?" Eddie teased, nipping and sucking at your neck. The stubble of his beard rubbed against your skin, leaving it raw and chaffed, but you didn't mind. He collapsed on top of you a few moments later, breathing heavy and hard in your ear.

"Goddam, baby." Eddie rasped, chest heaving as he tied the condom off.

Your thighs were trembling, a sheen of sweat on your entire body, heat still licking every inch of you. The realization of it all came crashing in- the post orgasm clarity. Your eyes cut to Eddie, watching him smoke a cigarette next to you. He looked over, handing it over as an offering, which you shook your head.

"Good," Eddie's gruff voice said, blowing smoke in the opposite direction. "Pretty things like you don't need nasty habits like this." He grinned.

You blushed, head still reeling as your eye lids drooped. "Thanks for takin' me out tonight." You sighed. "'M glad you asked me out."

Eddie smiled. "Anytime, sweet heart."

802 notes · View notes

rafemotherfuckingcameron · 1 year ago

Text

YOU BELONG WITH ME

Word Count: 5.2K

Pairing(s): Reader x Ex!boyfriend Jason, Reader x New dad!Matt, Reader x Rafe

Warnings: Flirting, Kissing, Swearing, Virginity Loss, Domestic Situations, Violence, SMUT 18+

Summary: Rafe protecting reader and keeping her safe from her step dad and ex boyfriend.

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

Leaving my old life behind to come and live with my mum’s new husband was difficult, especially because I hated him. They had been together a little over 2 years and he was a really nice person when they met, but as time went on he would try and force me to call him dad. Im 18 years old there was no way I was doing that. Maybe if I was younger and didn’t know anything else, but I’m an adult now.

BACK STORY BELOW

There was this one time where I skipped a class and he was my emergency contact as my mum was never available, while working long shifts at the hospital. We were both called into the principals office to discuss my punishment.

It wasn’t that bad, just an hour after class detention. After the meeting we got back into the car, “Matt I’m really sorry they called you, I used to skip sport all the time back at my old school. I didn’t think it was a big deal -“ I was met with a harsh slap against my cheek.

The blood rushed to my cheek, a searing pain on the right side of my face. My hand came up to face to cover my face. “I don’t like coming down here to fix your mess Y/n.” He looks at me and grabs my wrist from my face “Your mother is not to hear a word about this, understood” he yells through my wrist back into my lap. That was the first time he hit me.

There were multiple times after that, that time he got drunk and broke a beer bottle on the wall next to me then slap me saying why didn’t clean up the mess or the time I came back from a party at 2am and he threw me into the wall.

_____________ ____________ ____________ ____________ _________

PRESENT DAY

Lets just say I really was hating the idea of moving into his house. On top of all that my boyfriend had cheated on me with my best friend and started dating. I found out last night and broke up with him. He keeps calling me but I just ignore all incoming messages and calls.

Arriving at my new home, i unpack the car and walk beside my mum. Matt walks out and practically makes out with her, leaving me standing uncomfortable. He takes my suitcase and leads me upstairs to my room. Not going to lie it was an amazing room with a balcony overlooking the beach. But if I had the choice of not living here with him I’d take it.

After organising my belongings and placing them in their assigned places, I felt exhausted. I contemplated taking a shower, but just as I was about to, I heard a knock at the door.

"Y/n, Matt, and I are heading out for a dinner date. There's food in the fridge for you whenever you're hungry," she informed me, and I acknowledged her with a nod. I then entered the shower, allowing the comforting warmth of the water to cleanse away the fatigue from the past few hours.

I got out, brushed my hair and placed a towel around my body. Walking over to my nightstand I grabbed a bra and matching panties, I dropped the towel and slid them on.

*Ding* My phone lit up with another text from Jason:

Jason: “Baby I’m really sorry about that happened. Can you please talk to me. Baby I love you”

Seeing that message made me really pissed and I decided to give it back to him.

Y/N: “You don’t have the right to call me baby anymore, you lost that when you fucked my best friend!!”

Jason: “Y/n don’t be like that. I said I was sorry, you gotta give me some credit”

………

*Jason Calling* I hesitated before picking up:

Y/n: “What?” Jason: “Y/n stop being dramatic, I said I was sorry” Y/n: “I’m not being dramatic Jason, you cheated on me with my best friend. How could you do that?” Jason: “It was just a fuck baby, it meant nothing. I was just sick of waiting for you to be ready. I have needs too.” Y/n: “You know you saying all of this make you sound like an absolute asshole right?” Jason: “OMG here we go again, always so sensitive, get over it, so we can get back together” Y/n: “Let me make this very clear, We are never ever getting back together, not now! not ever!” Jason: “You’ll change your mind, I know you w-“ Y/n: “No I won’t, I broke up with you, I don’t want to be with you, what aren’t you getting? Just leave me alone and fuck off” Jason: “You gonna wish you never said that baby!!” he hung up.

After casually tossing my phone onto the bed, I descended the stairs to fetch some dinner. Upon returning upstairs, I noticed a tall silhouette across in the next house next door.

Intrigued, I approached the window and observed a handsome young man with a well-defined V line, his towel securely fastened around his waist. I found myself captivated by him, particularly the way he ran his fingers through his curtain-like bangs and subtly flexed his bicep.

He pivoted away from the mirror and locked eyes with me. His jaw dropped a bit, and he ran his tongue over his lips before playfully winking in my direction. In that moment, I completely forgot that I was only partially dressed while sneakily admiring my neighbour.

I offered a smile and then turned away, resuming my seat on the bed. Throughout that evening, I couldn't get the guy next door out of my mind.

The way his towel clung to his waist and the manner in which his bangs gracefully draped across his forehead remained persistent thoughts.

The following day, I woke up and glanced at the clock, which showed 1 pm in the afternoon. I slowly climbed out of bed and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. My mom, who had just finished her night shift, had already prepared breakfast for me.

"Hello, dear. How was your sleep?" she inquired, giving me a warm hug. "It was okay," I replied to her question. We sat together as I enjoyed my meal. Afterward, she headed upstairs to get some rest.

Having finished my breakfast, I returned upstairs to change into a cute beach outfit. I then left the house and strolled down to the beach, taking a leisurely walk to clear my mind and unwind for the afternoon.

Sitting by the beach and observing the rhythmic crashing of the waves brought a profound sense of tranquility. In that moment, I felt like myself again, unburdened by the complexities of a new stepfather or the entanglements of a relationship. I felt liberated.

As I watched the sun descend on the horizon, I noticed someone approaching me. He was wearing a white rip curl tank top and board shorts. "Hey, it's you," he remarked as he settled down on my towel.

Puzzled, I inquired, "Hi, do I know you?"

"Well, we haven't formally met, but our eyes have crossed paths, and might I say you look charming in that pink outfit," he commented, his gaze sweeping over me.

It finally dawned on me that he was the boy from next door, and I covered my face with my hands in embarrassment. "OMG, that's so embarrassing," I admitted, tucking my head between my knees.

"Don't be embarrassed. I enjoyed it, and judging by your reaction, I'd say you did too," he teased, smirking as I slowly lifted my head, returning his smirk. "I'm Rafe, by the way."

"I'm Y/n," I replied.

We ended up engaging in a lengthy conversation; he was remarkably easy to talk to. It felt like we shared a genuine connection. Rafe confided that he had recently broken up with his girlfriend due to her infidelity, and I shared my own experience of my boyfriend cheating on me and attempting to reconcile.

We laughed and bantered until we both realised the moon casting its shimmering reflection on the water.

"Wow, I didn't even notice it got dark," I remarked as I gazed out at the water.

"Same here," he replied, slowly extending his arm into the sand behind me.

We both continued to gaze at the water, observing the waves crashing. "Would you like to go for a swim?" he inquired, glancing at me and then back at the water.

"First, it's nighttime, and second, I'm not wearing my bikini," I responded with a chuckle.

He smirked and looked down at his hands. “That’s alright, you don’t need them, plus I’ve already seen you half naked anyways remember.” He said placing a strand of hair behind my ear.

I responded to his offer with a shy smile. "Alright."

He got to his feet and removed his shirt, exposing his sun-kissed body. Following, I unzipped my shorts and slid them down, allowing them to drop onto the sand.

Then, I removed my top, raising my arms and revealing my C cup breasts in a black lace bra. Rafe's eyes widened when he saw me standing so close, partially undressed. He ran his fingers through his hair and swept it to the side.

He began descending toward the beach, periodically glancing back to check if I was following, and I was right behind him. When my toes touched the chilly ocean, my body tensed up.

Rafe noticed and came over to hold my hand, guiding me into the water. As I ventured further in, the temperature didn't improve; in fact, it got even colder. The water reached up to my ribs, and a small wave splashed onto my face, drenching me in its icy embrace.

"OMG, that's so cold," I exclaimed, looking over to where Rafe had already submerged himself, effortlessly navigating through the waves.

He swam back towards me, stopping just inches from my face. His hands found my waist, and I gladly accepted his embrace, wrapping my legs around his waist. We locked eyes, and I leaned in slightly to gauge his feelings.

He reciprocated the gesture, and our lips gently brushed against each other's. It felt like time had slowed down. I pulled back and grinned at him. His hands moved up my thighs, his fingers lightly tracing over my skin.

He leaned back in and kissed me more passionately. Feeling his hands travel up to my butt and squeeze lightly, making me moan quietly. Which didn’t go unnoticed by Rafe, he smiled into the kiss and started sucking on my neck leaving small bruises behind. Grinding my body into his I felt the bulge in his pants poking my pussy. I started to move a little quicker to get some kind of friction.

Our moment was abruptly interrupted by a powerful wave that pushed us apart. Emerging from the wave, I spotted Rafe lying face down in the sand, attempting to recover from being knocked over by the ocean.

Chuckling at his predicament, I started to exit the water and lend him a hand. We then walked back to our house, and he paused in front of my place.

"I had a really nice time, Rafe," I said, looking directly into his eyes.

“I really like hanging out with you Y/N” He said as he kissed me on the lips again and than another peck, leaving me wanting more. He went to turn but I lightly pulled his arm back “Can I get your number?” I said batting my eyelashes at him.

He put his number in my phone and I did the same with his. Walking back into the house I was met with Matt. He looked angry, to be honest I didn’t know what was going to happen.

“What time do you call this?” He yelled stepping forward. “I asked you a question?” He said again abruptly.

"I'm sorry; I didn't realize how late it had gotten," I whispered softly, attempting to retreat cautiously. However, he seized my arm and pressed me against the wall. His other hand closed around my throat, tightening its grip.

"This is my house, and you will obey my rules and return at a reasonable hour," he snapped, slowly increasing the pressure on my throat.

"I'm an adult, and I can stay out as long—" My words were abruptly halted by a brutal slap across my face.

His ring cut my cheek, causing it to bleed. He released his hold on me and hurried upstairs.

I retreated into my room and slammed the door shut. As I settled on my bed, tears streamed down my face. I drew my knees up to my chest and wept into my pillow.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps beside me and turned around quickly, only to find Jason standing there.

"What the FUCK!, how did you get in here?" I asked, quickly rising from the bed and creating some distance between us.

"Your dad let me in, baby," he replied, stepping closer.

"He's not my dad, and what are you doing here?"

"I came to see my beautiful girlfriend. I've missed you so much," he said, brushing my hand with his and leaning in for a kiss. I avoided his advances and settled onto my bed.

"Jason, we're broken up. We're not together anymore. What don't you understand—"

"For fuck's sake, Y/n! I love you, and I know you love me too," he exclaimed, clenching his fists in frustration.

"I used to love you, and then you shattered my heart when you slept with her!" I shouted back at him. My words clearly enraged him. In response, his fist struck my rib cage, causing an intense, searing pain to shoot through my body.

"You see, when you say things like that, it makes me lose control," he muttered, pacing around as I crumpled to my knees in agony. He returned to me, grabbing me by the hair and flinging me forcefully back onto the bed.

He climbed on top and started kissing me. His hands traveled up my thighs and forced my leg open, pulling my panties down.

I tried to push him off but he was too strong and my rib was throbbing. His thumb came up to my clit and rubbed circles in a rough motion. “Stop…..Stop get off, I’m not ready” I screamed but he didn’t stop.

He inserted one finger in to me thrusting at a unforgiving pace. I could feel my walls clenching around his finger, he wasn’t letting up.

He had my hands pinned above my head with his other hand, I tried to wriggle out but that just made it more painful. He tried inserting another finger, but I was just to tight.

He tried his best but he lost his grip slightly, which allowed me room to stick my thumbs in his eyes. I pushed in and he let go and stumbled backwards.

"Bitch!" He yelled, causing me to quickly retreat to the doorway and dash downstairs towards the front door. Just as I was about to grasp the handle, my head collided with the door, and Jason's hand firmly held it against the door.

"You may have won this battle, but I'll win the war, baby," he taunted before pushing me to the ground and exiting through the door.

I slowly ascended the staircase and entered my ensuite bathroom, where I noticed a slight trace of blood on my thigh. I cleaned myself up and changed into another set of pjs.

Switching on the lamp beside my table, a sense of unease crept over me, fueled by the lingering fear that Jason might come back to resume his actions.

*Ding* Incoming Text

Rafe: Can’t sleep either? Y/n: Not since I moved here. Rafe: 😢 What are you doing tomorrow? Y/n: Nothing, Can I come over? We need to talk. Rafe: Yeah, of course see you at 8am Y/n: See you then :)

The morning sun streamed in through my window, and my eyes required no adjustment, for I hadn't slept a wink. It was 7:45 in the morning, and getting dressed proved challenging, given the discomfort I was feeling. Silently, I left my house and made my way to Rafe's door, where I knocked and patiently awaited his response.

As the door opened, Rafe's jaw dropped at the sight of my face. "What happened?" he inquired, opening the door wider to invite me inside.

Overwhelmed by my emotions, I began crying uncontrollably. Rafe enveloped me in his comforting embrace, guiding me into his room, where we sat on his bed.

There, I unburdened myself, recounting everything that had occurred the previous night, including the distressing events involving my stepfather. Sharing the whole story felt like finally having someone firmly on my side.

After my confession, Rafe hugged me, not too tightly to avoid causing pain but with enough warmth to make me feel loved. I ended up staying at Rafe's house that night, mainly because he adamantly refused to let me return to my own house alone.

He walked over to his closet and retrieved a spare shirt, handing it to me. "You can change in here," he pointed to the bathroom across the room.

As I closed the bathroom door behind me, my cheeks flushed, and I couldn't quite pinpoint the reason. Perhaps it was because, after everything that had happened with Matt and Jason, I wasn't accustomed to someone making me feel anything other than fear. Changing into his shirt, I returned to his bedroom.

He was sitting on the bed, absorbed in his phone. When he looked up as I entered the room, he made space for me on the bed and handed me a glass of water. I graciously accepted, taking a few sips. He then pulled the covers over my body, and we both laid on our backs.

As I lay there, my hand brushed against his fingers, and I felt my heart quicken. Just as I was on the verge of falling asleep, a noise outside startled me, causing me to sit up abruptly and accidentally bump into Rafe. My heart raced, and I struggled to catch my breath; it was the onset of a panic attack.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. It's just the storm outside," Rafe reassured me, speaking softly. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, guiding my body closer to his.

"Take deep breaths for me," he urged, rubbing soothing circles on my back. Following his instructions, I inhaled deeply and exhaled, repeating the process five times.

"You're safe here, Y/n. I won't let anyone hurt you," he assured me. Eventually, I began to calm down, and we lay back down together. I threw my arm over him, cuddling in, and he reciprocated by hugging me tightly.

The following morning, I awoke to find Rafe setting up breakfast at the foot of the bed, and he greeted me with, "I thought you might be hungry?" as he extended the tray of food, which I eagerly accepted and placed on my lap, the sheets still modestly covering me, and the spread included French toast and waffles; as I concluded my meal, I reclined back in bed and drew the sheets over my face, prompting Rafe to ask,

"How are you feeling this morning, Y/n?" and in response, I lowered the sheet to just beneath my chin and confessed, "Considering everything I've endured, being here with you makes me feel safer than I've ever felt before," causing a blush to tinge my cheeks, to which he gazed into my eyes, smiled warmly, and reassured me

“I’m glad you feel safe here Y/n, I’d never want you to feel scared here. Your always welcome here, anytime!” He replied, slowly placing a loose strand of hair behind by ear. Looking into his eyes I got that feeling again, like butterflies but a more intense feeling. I really wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel his soft lips on mine, wanted to feel his hands roaming my body.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I just stared and smiled back at him.

"I'ma take a shower real quick," he mentioned before heading into his bathroom, and I acknowledged with a nod as I gazed out the window; I rose from his bed and settled by the window, peering into my room, where I noticed my stepfather, Matt, entering.

I quickly concealed myself behind the curtain while still managing to observe him sifting through my belongings, even though I couldn't fathom what he might be searching for; I watched him pacing about my room, flinging my clothes and possessions about.

Then noticed him apparently engaging in a conversation with someone who seemed positioned near my bedroom door; slipping down from my concealed position behind the curtain,

I inched along the floor to another curtain and carefully raised myself to uncover the identities of the individuals outside; my eyes widened as I glimpsed Matt and Jason engaged in an intense argument, leaving me bewildered as to why Jason was present, what their intentions were, and how Matt had come to be in my room in the first place.

Numerous unanswered questions swirled in my mind, and I realised that they wouldn't be promptly addressed; remaining concealed, I continued observing the unfolding scene, as Jason paced around my room with his hands on his head, while Matt vociferated at him, until Jason finally took a seat on my bed and glanced in my direction.

I quietly slid down the curtain and sidled along the wall to gain a different vantage point, whereupon Rafe returned from the bathroom, attired in sweatpants, and inquired about my position on the floor.

I raised my index finger and directed it just beneath his window, indicating the scene outside, and Rafe approached to inspect it further; he observed two men embroiled in an argument within my room.

He looked down at me and signalled you to craw along the floor over to him. I did as he instructed, crawling along the floor not too high so they couldn’t see.

I reached him and he pulled me up. My hands slid up his toned body, feeling the grooves in his chest. Finally looking up to his face, he mouthed “Who are they?”

As we clung to each other, I responded, "Matt, my stepdad, and my ex, Jason." He then wrapped his arms around my neck, offering a gentle embrace, and my arms naturally circled his waist, my fingers lightly trailing along his back.

I turned away for a moment, with his hand finding a resting place on my waist as we continued to watch the unfolding argument, and it was during this time that Jason retrieved a small round object from a photo frame on my bedside table, handed it to Matt, and engaged in a conversation with him.

Upon realizing what it was, I exclaimed, "It's a hidden camera!" My exclamation prompted me to whirl around to face Rafe, but as I moved, I inadvertently stepped into view of Matt and Jason, who immediately noticed me and rushed to the window; they then opened it and shouted,

"Y/n, we knew you couldn't have gone far."

Witnessing Matt and Jason exit my room and the house, and hearing their threats to break down Rafe's front door, I clung to Rafe's arm as we cautiously moved toward the front door, with a pressing question lingering in my mind.

I inquired, "What are you going to do?" just as Jason abruptly broke down the door and charged towards me, but Rafe swiftly intervened, tackling him to the ground. Following this, Matt entered the scene and watched Rafe land several blows on Jason's face.

Unbeknownst to me, Matt stealthily approached, and before I could react, his hands encircled my throat, hoisting me off the ground.

My hands instinctively grasped at his wrist, clawing in an attempt to loosen his grip. The pressure around my throat intensified, and my vision began to fade as my hands fell limply to my sides.

Rafe sprang into action when he saw Matt attempting to harm me, swiftly shifting from Jason to tackle Matt. He landed a powerful punch to Matt's nose, and as my eyes gradually reopened, I reached up to hold my neck, which was sore from the attack.

Rafe rushed over to help me sit up, propping me against the wall, his strong hand gently rubbing my shoulder. He anxiously asked, "Y/n, are you okay?" I nodded and replied, "Better now."

With his support, he lifted me to my feet and wrapped his protective arms around my waist. However, our relief was short-lived, as Jason suddenly clicked the safety off his gun, causing both of us to freeze.

Rafe immediately positioned himself in front of me, shielding me from the menacing weapon. Jason proceeded to berate me, claiming that I could have avoided this ordeal if I had just acquiesced to his demands, stating that he could have used me to obtain money from my father before subjecting me to further suffering.

He was on the brink of pulling the trigger when the sound of a car screeching to a halt distracted him long enough for us to seize the opportunity and escape through the back door.

We sprinted as fast as our legs could carry us, but exhaustion eventually forced me to stop. Rafe halted beside me, gently picking me up, and together, we made our way to the Country Club.

There, Rafe arranged for a hotel suite under the name of his best friend, Topper. After obtaining the key card, we entered the suite, where Rafe handed me a cup of water from the bathroom.

I took the water and pulled him down to sit beside me, expressing my gratitude, "Thank you for what you did," a sincere smile lighting up my face.

“I would do it all again for you” he said as he looked into my eyes than down to my lips and back up again. I leant in and our lips brushed against each others, cupping his hand around my face as our lips connect, gentle at first before he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me onto his lap, deepening the kiss.

As I rolled my hips against with clothed crotch, I felt that feeling that happens whenever I’m around him. The feeling of wanting his hands all over my body. Having him eat me out and wanting him inside me.

He stands and flips me over so that he’s hovering over me. I move up the bed more and he follows. I pull at the hem of his shirt and he pulls it off his one hand over his head. He pulls my top off and starts kissing down my collar bone till he reaches my covered breasts.

“Can I?” He questions and I nod. He unclips my bra and throws it away. He sucks against my shoulder as his hands slid to my breasts squeezing them.

“So Beautiful” he mumbles in to my neck. He starts rolling my nipples between his fingers taking one into his mouth, licking and sucking on them. Moans escape my lips as I lift my left leg around him to get more friction.

He comes back to my lips inserting his tongue in and swirling it around. “Rafe- I need to - I need to tell you something!” I said moaning away as he caressed my boobs.

“You can tell me anything” He said before hovering and looking at me.

“I’ve never done this before- had sex I mean.” I spoke softly, fingers dragging down is chest.

“Do you want me to stop?” “No” I say quickly leaning up to capture his lips. Slowly undoing his drawstring and sliding down his sweat pants revealing his huge cock. I gulped seeing the length and size.

I took his cock into my hand and start stroking up and down, slowly rubbing my thumb over his tip and sliding the pre cum leaking out along his length. His fingers came to my shorts and unbuttoned my shorts pulling them down my legs and throwing them on the floor.

He then hooked his fingers into my panties and slid them off lightly. His hands ran back up my legs, slowly opening my knees, to reveal my dripping cunt. He swiped his thumb over clit causing my hips to lift.

He pushed me back down and dove in, his tongue attached to my clit. My mouth fell open and moans escaped me. “Feels so good” I breathed out closing my eyes.

“Good baby wanna make you feel so good.” His hands slid down my thighs and he starts rubbing my clit slowly. “Fuck Rafe” I moaned and he started rubbing faster, his arm hooking around my leg to lift and place on his shoulder.

He gently slid a finger into me, while stroking himself in preparation. I heard a whimper leave his lips as he felt how tight I was. After only a few minutes of his fingers I could feel my stomach turning ready for my release.

He knew this as well by how I squeezed his fingers. “Cmon baby cum on my fingers, cum f’me.” He whispered seductively watching as I let go all over his fingers. He brought his fingers up to his mouth sucked all my juices off.

He palmed himself a few times before lining himself up with my cunt. “Are you sure?” He asked hesitantly waiting for me to respond. I nod in response. “I need words baby” .......... “Yes!”

He pushed in slowly, rubbing soothing circles on my outer thighs. My mouth fell open and my fingers dug into his biceps. Feeling my walls clench around him, it was stopping him from going in further.

“Just relax, take a breath.” He whispered into my ear. Following his suggestion, I took a deep breath and breathed out, he managed to slid in all the way. He was so big and I felt so full.

He stayed still, waiting for me to adjust to the size. I gave a him look that he could start moving, his cock sliding in and out. My walls clenching down on him with every thrust. He began speeding up the pace, and was left a moaning mess. I felt him twitch inside me and that's when I knew he was getting close.

He hoisted one of my legs up onto his shoulders to hit me at a new and deeper angle. He brought his fingers to my clit and rubbed circles, making me release all over his cock. He wasn’t far behind at I felt his cock twitch again.

Just as he was about to let go he pulled out and he shot hot cum ropes on to my boobs. He continued rubbing my clit slowly as I came down from my high.

“That felt so good” I whispered to him. He smirked and laid beside me.

“I belong with you Rafe” I say turning on my side and wrapping an arm around his waist and letting my leg rest onto of his leg.

“You belong with me.” He whispered as I fell asleep in his arms.

👊☀️🏘️🌊👙👊☀️🏘️🌊👙👊☀️🏘️🌊👙👊☀️🏘️🌊👙👊☀️🏘️

Hope you guys enjoyed this fic!!

I will be doing writing requests this week. So if you have requested a fic yours will be posted in the next few day.

#outer banks #rafe obx #rafe mf cameron #rafe x reader #obx reader x ex!boyfriend #obx x step!dad #rafe smut #obx fic

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tieronecrush · 1 year ago

Text

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter two: lips of an angel

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 5.1k

a/n: thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing this series for me <333 love you bestie, the only one i'd wanna be a sister wife with

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Nice To Meet You?

Hey,

I got an email that we were matched for Sweet Temptations. I figured I would reach out and introduce myself, maybe get to know you a bit if you are alright with that.

Feel free to call me Javi. I am honestly not sure what else I’m meant to do in an introduction like this. I promise I am normally much smoother than this, or at least more human and less awkward.

It’s nice to meet you, and to be matched up with you, Angel. If that’s what I should call you?

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hi Javi!

It’s nice to meet you too, and hopefully, we get to meet in person. These first emails are always awkward no matter how many I’ve sent or received, so please be assured that, honestly, that was one of the better ones I’ve gotten. :)

I normally like to ask what you’re looking for out of this “arrangement” (I hate calling it that, it sounds so impersonal) and maybe you can tell me some fun facts about you if you want to share!

I can go first for the fun facts:

Green is my favorite color

I unironically love the song MMMBop by Hansen (which is unexpected if you saw the rest of my tape and CD collection)

My current favorite movie is Romeo + Juliet that came out a couple of years ago cause Paul Rudd <3

That’s about all that I can think of as I sit in bed and type this so hopefully that is sufficient enough!

TTYL Javi,

Angel

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hey Angel

Paul Rudd is pretty likable, I’ll give you that. Is he your type? Cause I hate to break it to you sweetheart but I don’t really look like him. Both have dark hair but that’s about where the similarities stop. And Romeo + Juliet huh? Must be a bit of a romantic.

And MMMBop…it is catchy. I have to stop myself humming it at work these days.

As for what I’m looking for, I guess I just want someone to spend some time with. Whatever comes of it, comes of it, but I don’t want to really have any expectations. Just wanna get to know you, Angel.

Took me a while to think of some fun facts:

I grew up on a cattle ranch right on the border of Mexico in Southern Texas

When I was little (like 9/10 years old) my primos dared me to enter a rodeo for Mutton Busting (chasing a sheep around to try to catch it)

A CD of Selena stays in my car at all times, and yes, I know all the words

Hope those were fun enough for you, Angel.

And I hope you have a good day today.

The emails continued for about a week and a half, Javier slowly became more comfortable with the virtual communications. Angel was bubbly, and sweet, always asking him questions and always interested in hearing about his day or what his favorite book was. It was either his loneliness or a newfound desperation that had his heart skipping when the sound of new mail pinged from his desktop.

It felt a bit strange to have such normal exchanges with Angel and be reminded of the circumstances with his bank statement for the charges that the service takes monthly. With how personable Angel has been even via email, he finds himself forgetting what exactly brought them together. Maybe all the mystery and excitement will wear off when the two of you meet, but something deep in his gut is telling him that isn’t going to happen.

He drags himself away from his desk, no response from Angel yet today. All he can think about is how he hopes there’s a new message when he comes back, gathering his things to head to the lecture hall for the third week of Sociology of Deviance.

In the beginning, he thought this class was going to be a chore to do. Stuck onto his schedule last minute, had new material to cover, and had an annoying Dean of Faculty checking in on him much more often because of it. However, a handful of sessions in, he’s got a bit of a skip in his step to rush over there, the familiar jump in his stomach when he thinks about you.

The pretty fall floral dresses you’ve started wearing with the change in weather, large cardigans pulled over the top. You’ve worn a few flannels over your shoulders, clearly oversized and he feels a prick of jealousy whenever he sees you in them.

Do you have a boyfriend? Are those shirts his?

What would you look like in one of his button-downs?

Christ, the thoughts won’t stop no matter how hard he tries. Another reason why he is attempting to completely throw himself into this new “arrangement”, hoping it would be a means to an end to his crush on his student.

That’s what it is. He has a fucking crush.

He hasn’t had a crush in years.

Laying everything out for the class session, he starts writing the discussion points on the board. At the sound of the door violently swinging open and a rumble of loud footsteps rushing, he looks over his shoulder to see you, belongings in your arms and clearly flustered. His jaw drops open to ask if you’re alright, making a burning flash of eye contact with you before you drop your head, embarrassed, and find your seat.

Turning back to the chalkboard, he shakes his head minutely, rolling his shoulders before continuing his writing, white powder from the chalk coating his fingers. Instead of his normal thoughts of you, he keeps fighting the urge to ask if you’re okay. In the short time he’s known you if you could even say that about your dynamic, he knows it’s very unusual for you to come in that incomposed. He wipes the residue off on his pants, facing the class.

While he teaches, his eyes continue to wander to you, oddly quiet when you would normally be engaged in the discussion. That kid Alex, obnoxious from the jump, is taking up far too much air time in this class, and Javier can’t help the annoyance on his face as he leans back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest as he waits for this kid to finish his long-winded, and incorrect answer.

You scoff audibly at a point that Alex made, piquing Javier’s attention. The two of you make eye contact again, and Javier suddenly unravels one arm from his chest, holding it up toward Alex.

“Excuse me, Alex, I respect your points but I think there might be some counters to your arguments. I want to be able to hear them before we move on,” Javier calls out your name, and his head snaps to you, nodding encouragingly, “What were your thoughts?”

“Oh, um, I was going to say that I don’t think that socioeconomic or social standing is the only explanation for the makeup of the prison system. And I think it’s pretty naive to think that it’s only rich people that get off with less severe punishments.” Javier watches your shoulders tense a bit at the obvious eye roll from Alex, the pen in between your fingers bouncing with nerves.

“Do you mind expanding on that? I’m interested in what you think is another reason,” Javier holds eye contact with you, the slightest smile on his face to reassure you to stand your ground in the argument.

“I mean, to me, It’s pretty obvious that the biggest reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. White people dominate the political landscape and the prejudices, even unconscious bias, contribute to the makeup of the incarcerated population. Judges will give favorable or less severe punishments to white defendants, and of course, class biases are a thing, especially because of the cost of criminal defense, but I think the overt, umbrella reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. It’s built into the systems of government, which is pretty depressing…”

You trail off and laugh awkwardly at the silence in the room, some classmates nodding in agreement while some are unphased, uninterested.

“That’s good. That’s exactly what I was hoping would be brought up by someone,” Javier nods to you, pointing in your direction before he rounds the desk to start writing on the board for students to take down in their notes.

In your seat, you start to copy down into your notebook, glancing up to see him look over his shoulder at you. One corner of his mouth lifts, a smile in his eyes as you try to bite back your own grin that threatens to expose how much you enjoyed his short praises.

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Wanna Meet Up?

Hiiii Javi

I’ve had such a shitty day today, but honestly, I was still excited to be able to come home and talk to you. :)

Do you think you’d be interested in meeting in person this weekend? I’m free Saturday night if you are. LMK!

Hope your day was better than mine!

xoxo,

Angel

Plans were made to meet Saturday night around eight o’clock. Javier had chosen a bar he’d become familiar with on those nights when he couldn’t sleep, when the memories of Colombia were too much when he couldn’t stop thinking about those damn boats that were in his backyard.

The place is small, intimate, and quiet enough to hold a conversation — which he knew from the one or two times he’d picked up someone and brought them back to his apartment. There was always some sort of live music, usually some jazz or folksy blues, that could fill any first-date awkward silences.

In his last email to her, Javier told Angel that he’d be in the back of the bar, at a table for two, wearing jeans and a red short-sleeve button-up shirt. He makes sure to arrive first, getting there a bit overly early at 7:30 to snag a table and order himself a drink to calm his nerves. Pounding the glass back on the bar top, he orders another whiskey neat to nurse until she arrives.

This is a different feeling than he’s had before a date. Nerves aren’t normally his thing when it comes to women, but something about this night feels higher stakes than before.

Get it together, Javi. It’s a date, if it goes horribly, you don’t have to do it again. Plus, she doesn’t even need to be interested in you, this is her job.

When you arrive at the tiny, hole-in-the-wall bar, you nod thanks to the man holding the door for you, rolling your eyes when you get a comment from him that you didn’t ask for.

“Nice tits, sweetheart.” He slurs and sends you a wink that is definitely more of a blink. You slip past him without issue, scanning the small area for the man with dark hair and a red shirt on. At this point, with how many times you’ve done this, you’re normally not nervous to meet these men in person. It’s something you’re obligated to do, like showing up for any other job, and that’s how you treat it.

But this time around, something’s different. Talking with Javier has actually been….nice? He’s responsive and wants to get to know you, never taking more than a day to get back to you. He’s asked you more questions about yourself than anyone else has before and he always, always wants to hear about your day. If you weren’t careful, you could see yourself getting attached.

Well, getting attached if he’s anything like you’ve imagined him. Or who you’ve imagined him to be.

The only red shirt you can spot is on a man sitting at a table toward the back, facing away from the door and toward the stage in the corner where a jazz trio is playing a low, crooning song. Biting back a smile, you start to make your way over to him, admiring him from behind.

It’s broad shoulders and a strong neck, muscles flexing as he adjusts in his seat. His dark, chocolatey hair is combed nicely, so much so that you can’t help but have the thought of running your fingers through it and messing it up.

Dressed in a black dress with blotted red lips, you weave in between people, ignoring anyone else as you keep your eyes on the man you’re here to meet. Javi stays facing forward, watching the band play even as you stand behind him, cheated to his side a bit. Holding your breath, you lean closer and tap him on his shoulder.

“Um, excuse me, Javi?”

At the sound of his name, Javier turns over his shoulder to his right, a smile on his face already from the honeyed kindness in her voice. She did really sound like an angel for a second there before he realized where the sound was coming from.

“Yeah, I’m Ja—“ The sound stops in his throat when he is facing you. Your supple lips with the dainty Cupid’s bow, rouged cheeks, and gentle smile; normally in a nice dress or cardigan in class, but here you’re wearing much less material, more of your skin on display.

What would it be like to kiss it?

No. That is not ever going to happen.

Those doe eyes hold an innate tenderness that he couldn’t imagine ever being privy to, but here he was, under the stare of those and it was making him sweat. He can only imagine what he looks like to you at the moment, eyes wide and mouth blubbering to speak like a fish gasping for air.

You recognized him at the same time, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the word vomit threatening to come out. If it did, you know you would end up spilling how honestly excited you are that the man you’ve been emailing with has turned out to be Professor Peña. You’ve harbored a bit of a crush on him for the last few weeks, ever since that smile he gave you when you introduced yourself after the first session. It had been burning moments of eye contact, and those gentle encouragements from him.

Hell, after class this week when he praised your counterarguments, you thought about his voice saying “That’s good” over and over while you laid in your bed that night, coming with the image of him over you in record time.

The first word out of his mouth is your name, tone flicked up at the end in a question. He grumbles to himself as he moves to stand up, forgetting his drink on the table.

“Fuck, this is bad…” He whispers under his breath, shaking his head at himself as he runs his hands on the sides of his jeans. “I’m so sorry.”

He steps back to further the distance between you two, awkwardly avoiding your eyes as he attempts to recover his professionalism.

“It’s alr—“

“I had no idea it was you. This is completely inappropriate, I apologize. I should leave, uh, and I completely understand if you need to change out of my class. I know it’s past the cut-off date, but I would help if you needed—”

“Javi — can I call you that?” He considers it for a moment before nodding, rigidity evident in his body, “Javi, it’s alright. You don’t need to apologize, neither of us knew before this moment…But I do have to say, I wouldn’t tell.”

“Uh, I’m sorry — what?”

“I wouldn’t say anything. If you wanted to sit down and have a drink, or a few, and get to know each other like we planned to, I wouldn’t say a word. Even if you weren’t interested after this, I promise, the secret’s safe with me.”

Javier can’t deny how much he was looking forward to meeting the woman he was emailing with. And he can’t deny that he’s had his eyes on you since that first meeting. Hell, he can barely control his thoughts around you.

Of course, it had to be you. The two people he can’t get out of his head have turned out to be only one person, and of course, it’s you.

“If it informs your decision, I would love to get to know you more, Javi.”

He stutters through his thoughts out loud before resigning with a sigh, taking a breath as he forms his response, “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Definitely. Wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. Now, may I join you?” You gesture to the empty chair and Javi nods quickly.

“Yeah, of course. Here, let me get that.” He visibly relaxes a bit, falling into a routine he knows well. Rounding the small table, he pulls your chair out for you before settling in the seat opposite. Shortly after, a server comes around and takes your drink orders, Javier looking to you to go first. After the order is placed, the server leaves the two of you in silence at the table.

Another beat passes before Javier speaks, saying what you both are thinking, “Sorry, I just, cannot believe it happened to be you.”

“Why’s that?” You ask with a lilt of humor in your voice, sitting up in the chair to move toward him, “Don’t think I would be into all this?”

“Yeah, I guess so, but—Actually I should not say what I was about to say,” he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Oh, c’mon, what were you gonna say?”

“Nope, definitely not going to tell you, sweetheart,” he smirks at you and then adjusts in his seat awkwardly, “Oh, ‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have sa—“

“Javi. It’s fine, just relax. You’re not making me uncomfortable at all if that’s what you’re worried about,” you give him a sincere smile, reaching across to hold his arm that’s lying on the table, “It’s actually kind of nice to have those nicknames coming from you and not some other creepy men who contact me.”

“Why’s that?” He echoes your question from moments before, eyebrows raising in curiosity and the same smirk growing on his face, glancing down at your hand on him.

“I shouldn’t say what I was about to say,” you attempt to imitate his voice, laughing at the end when he gives you a look that says ‘Really?’.

“I don’t sound like that, cariño. But that’s a good try. Now what is it that makes me nicer than the other men you’ve seen?”

‘That’s a good try.’ This man.

“And how do you know that? I could be nailing what you sound like to other people. You hear your voice differently.” You poke his arm pointedly, moving your hand toward your lap again. Before it leaves the table, Javier stretches his arm across, catching your fingers with his. He holds them loosely in his, running his thumb across your knuckles as he keeps eye contact with you.

“I’ve heard my voice enough in press conferences that were televised, angel. I don’t sound like that,” he uses his free hand to take a sip of his whiskey, “And don’t try to change the subject. I wanna know what you are gonna say.”

“I could say the same thing to you. We both have our secrets tonight,” you take a sip of your drink and shrug, “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Nice negotiating, cariño, but I think I’d have to have a few more of these if I was going to share mine.” He raises his glass a couple of inches off the table, the amber liquid sloshing around before he sets it down again.

You’d say anything to get him to keep giving you praise like that all the time.

Grabbing your own glass, you lift it to him and smile, “Well, only one of these and I’ll be spilling all my dirty secrets.”

Javier’s jaw notches to the side as you say that, biting his cheek before he takes his hand from yours and runs his thumb across his bottom lip to the corner.

Inside his chest, he feels his heart beating faster and feels his blood rushing south, that same damn smile of yours that you give him from rows away in class doing the same damn thing it does to him there.

Half of him is wondering how he can make you smile like that all the time.

The other half wants to wipe that smile off of your face and have you whimpering.

What would you look like under him?

Jesus Christ, he’s way far gone.

Javier’s had three more whiskeys on top of his previous three. You’ve had about four drinks yourself.

The evening has devolved into something much more casual, breezy; conversation has flowed between you two, finding things in common and swapping stories that have the other laughing. From the serious professor in class, this more easy-going Javi is refreshing to see and definitely makes your crush a lot worse, somersaulting stomach and warm, syrupy flood across your whole body.

The subject has returned to the evening’s secrets, you asking him again to share what he was going to say.

“Please, Javi, it can’t be any more embarrassing than what mine is. I’ll tell you what I was gonna say if you promise to tell me.” You extend your arm, fingers closed into a fist beside your pinky.

He looks at your hand, debating internally before deciding ‘fuck it’ and links his little finger with yours.

“I promise, cariño,” he smiles and nods for you to share, “What are you dying to tell me so that you can hear what I was gonna say?”

“The affection from you is nice cause, I don’t know, you feel…safe. When I first started, I was getting some weird men that wanted to meet, and—This has just been fun,” you resign with a soft smile, “Plus it helps that you’re hot. Got the whole smoldering cop with the porn stache thing.”

“Smoldering cop with the porn stache? I didn’t realize that was a thing,” he laughs, the crinkles next to his eyes deepening before he takes your hand lying on the table, “I’m glad this has been fun for you. After all that shock and awkwardness at the beginning, I think it’s been really nice to get to know you, angel.”

“Alright, I shared my little secret, you share yours now.”

Javier sighs, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your skin. He takes a moment to speak before he meets your eyes, a resistant smirk on his face, “You are really gonna make me say this?”

“You pinky promised! I didn’t make you do that, there’s no coercion here, Javier.”

“Fine, fine. You’re too quick, cariño,” he squeezes your fingers with his, “I was gonna say before that I couldn’t believe it happened to be you ‘cause—It’s stupid, really, but I’ve had a bit of a crush on you since that first class, querida.”

“A crush? The sexy Professor Peña has a crush on me?”

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. Can’t keep ‘em off of you, cariño. Too beautiful. And you’re fucking on it all the time, so goddamn smart. I really am convinced you should be teaching for me,” he glances down sheepishly, feeling exposed from his tipsy confession.

The surface of your cheeks heats up, feeling a tingle down your spine when his eyes meet yours again. Leaning forward across the table, you bite your bottom lip as you drink him all in.

“D’you think I’ll ever be able to properly pay attention in class again after that?”

“You better, sweetheart. Just cause I’ve got a crush on you doesn’t mean you’ll get a good grade. Not gonna go easy on you. Fair’s fair.”

“Mm, I don’t mind it hard. I prefer it that way, actually. Makes it much more satisfying when you finish.” Your tongue wets your lips before you take your bottom one between your teeth, watching as Javier’s eyes darken at your double entendre.

He shakes his head, giving you a knowing look about your mischievous word choice, “Better be ready for a challenge then, angel.”

“Always, Peña.”

It’s late now, verging on turning into Sunday; the hours flew by with each other. Javier noticed the time on his watch, the crowd in the bar was sparse in spots that were full when he got there. When he looks at you, your eyelids look heavy, and those normally wide and bright eyes, eager and excited, look drowsy and content, so close to slipping closed and turning your mind off for the night.

“You ready to head out, angel? We’ll go find you a cab.” He asks with a subtle smile on his face, scooting out of his chair and standing, offering a hand to you.

“Yeah, m’ready.” You rise after taking his hand, hiking your small rectangular bag over your shoulder and stepping closer to him as he switches which hand is holding yours. Right in right, he grips yours from the outside of your palm, fingers lacing together as he presses his left into the small of your back, weaving between the patrons and out the front door.

The air is crisp when the door breaks open, cool air surrounding your warm, alcohol-blanketed bodies. Javier's touch still surrounds you, your right shoulder pressing into his chest when you turn to say something to him.

He takes a step back, allowing you the space to rotate fully in his arms, meeting his eyes and feeling a grin toy at your lips.

“Tonight was nice.”

“It was. Think I should be saying thanks to you. M’glad you had me stay.”

“Yeah? Well, m’happy to hear that cause I was gonna say, if you wanted to keep this up — meeting up, the arrangement all of that — if you wanted to keep it up for the semester, I would happily keep the secret. Y’know, you help me, I help you kind of thing. We just have fun.”

Javier considers the offer, ticking his jaw as he debates internally. On one hand, it’s a massive risk. The two of you could be seen out with each other, or if anyone noticed anything different in class, it could jeopardize his job, and possibly your degree. But on the other hand, if every night with you is like this one, he’s hard-pressed to say no. You’re funny and intelligent and beautiful — sure, there’s the element of how you two met and what happens behind the scenes, money taken out of his account monthly and forwarded to you through the service — but with the way you’ve had his heart pumping from your sweetness and his cock half hard at how turned on you have him constantly, he really can’t find a fuck to give about the risk.

“Alright. If you are in for it, I definitely am, angel,” he grins at you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips when his eyes flit to yours, the faint red lipstick of yours still holding strong.

“Good, Javi. That’s good,” your voice is a purr, a smug smirk playing at your lips when he leans in closer, walking you back towards the brick facade of the bar. His knees nearly give out when he hears those small praises, already waiting for the next time you speak them to him.

“Can I…?” he trails off, the tip of his nose only an inch from yours.

“You can kiss me, Javi.”

Without wasting another second, he catches his lips with yours, gentle at first with soft, delicate kisses exchanged. His tongue slides along your bottom lip, a breathy whimper parting your mouth enough for him to lick into it, melting his tongue with yours. One of his hands moves to hold your jaw, the other stagnant at your hip. A step closer brings him flush against you, quiet moans muffled into each other’s mouths.

The roughness of the brick is harsh against your bare skin on display, the contrasting sensations pooling arousal in between your legs. Javier tastes like tobacco, whiskey, and mint gum; an interesting combination but an intoxicating one. His hand at your hip moves around to your ass, pulling you off the wall slightly and against him, his growing bulge felt against your torso.

Before the two of you can get completely lost in each other, you pull away, hands on his chest. A taxi pulls up at that moment, honking its horn in question if you need a ride. You wave to him and ask for one minute with your fingers, turning back to Javi standing in front of you a bit breathless.

“I should go. Got some reading to do for this class on Monday that I’ve got.”

“Oh, yeah? Hope your professor hasn’t been killing you with the readings,” he smirks back at you.

“Nah, he hasn’t been killing me but seems like he does really wanna give it to me. Must have some high expectations,” your voice is coated with a lilt of teasing, winking at him as you slip from his arms.

He follows close behind to walk you to the cab, a hand finding your back and dropping down to graze his fingers across your ass.

“Think you’ll have no trouble exceeding those expectations, angel. Plus you could always ask for one-on-one tutoring or some extra credit.” It’s his turn to wink, opening the rear door for you and helping you in.

“Glad I have your confidence, Javi. Here, gimme your phone I’ll give you my number.” You reach out and he fumbles it from his pocket, passing it off to you. The information is quickly entered and saved, handing his device back to him and looking up at him from the seat of the cab.

“I’ll be waiting for a call, Javi. And I’ll see you Monday, Professor Peña.” You give him one last look, giggling as you shut the door and he hits the top of the taxi before you drive away, standing there with an idiotic smile on his face.

Javier grew up religious, his mamá dragging him to church every Sunday. He’s only been back to church at the major holidays he’s been home, leaving behind any spiritual side of him. All the concepts of eternal souls and heaven and hell meant nothing to him.

However, tonight, he felt an inkling to believe that heaven was real, and he had met an angel.

His angel.

tagging those from last time: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @sugadolly @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST, PLEASE FILL THIS FORM OUT! thank you!

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfic #javier peña x afab!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic

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percyposting · 4 months ago

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Now while I am of course critical of them as characters, I’m not that crazy about when people, when talking about Percy and his family, either put all the blame on one side or the other. Like, when people who don’t take the time to understand Percy’s perspective will say he was unjust and didn’t love his family and a scorn upon the Weasleys, which is obviously a very black and white and incorrect perspective on his character which literally is incorrect when you reference the canon. But on the other hand, I don’t always agree with some of the ways people defend him, either, because a lot of those statements are also black and white; for example when people say Arthur is a terrible father, or that Percy’s siblings are unwaveringly cruel, or that Percy didn’t make any mistake/he was imperiused. I especially hateeeee that last theory specifically because it really undermines everything that he was going through during the course of the story and does more damage to his character than anything. He made the choices he did not because he’s a bad person but because he was like nineteen and wasn’t being listened to and he was being manipulated by the individual Minister’s he worked under because they were targeting his biggest weakness which is that he comes from a poor family that have been labeled as ‘blood-traitors’ and because of that, he was not born with as many opportunities that others are, and this clearly effects him as he brings it up during his argument with Arthur. He blames Arthur for their struggles, while he is wrong about this it’s not like he’s given much help to see why he’s wrong. Percy is naive and believes he’s smarter than he is (not slander of course, like these are very reasonable things to be as a 18-19 year old) so it leads to him thinking he understands how the world works but really he’s stuck in this box his government/society has built around him. And I think the rest of the Weasley’s are only a tad bit more enlightened, because they don’t seem to recognize this. They just don’t realize that Percy is just as much a victim of this system as they are, and can’t help but point fingers and resent one another.

I wouldn’t say any one of the Weasley’s are really at any major fault here. Percy misunderstands that the reason he’s struggling is not because his father’s lack of effort in his work or in providing for his family, but it’s because his father is actually a decent employee but the institution he works for will never give him any benefits or a raise because they hate him and his family. This is one of the major reasons for Percy’s split between his family, and it’s not his fault, nor his family’s fault, it’s the fault of the pureblood aka oppressive and corrupt society that they live in that actively promotes their downfall. Along with any other person that doesn’t match their blood purist beliefs.

I don’t think any of the Weasleys hated each other. I believe they loved each other VERY much, and the forces actively and canonically working against them nearly succeeded in tearing their family — but in the end they ultimately failed because that the Weasley’s truly do love each other and never wanted to be split apart. That’s what I think people miss when they attempt to defend one or the other: they misunderstand that no one is the villain but corruption, manipulation, and misplaced blame. Percy was young and tricked into believing something hopeful after his entire future was almost crushed (Barty Crouch Snr’s death and the subsequent investigation). Arthur didn’t want to believe his son would actually align himself with the enemy and tried to get Percy to understand the truth, but this only causes more friction because he goes about it wrong, instead insulting Percy’s capabilities, which are his most tender subject. And Percy’s siblings grew up in a loud, chaotic house where there wasn’t enough validation to go around, so they accidentally began resenting each other as time went on, most of the time because one was getting what the other wanted or (like Percy getting constant praise and attention for his academic achievements while the twins watch, waiting to be scolded for ‘not being successful like Percy.’) These are common family difficulties! They’re very realistic. And I don’t think it points to anyone being the bad guy, just that they may have said and did some bad or hurtful things, but by the end of the book most of these things are resolved because the Weasleys find each other again and go “I’m sorry, I love you, and I forgive you.”

#sorry this is humongous….#it may be confusing as well I apologize #this is absolutely nothing against people who are critical of Arthur or Percy or anyone #because I am critical of them all too #just that I felt people were like forgetting the plot a little #I’m the family defense lawyer for all of these guys sorry #the weasleys #percy weasley #arthur weasley #the weasley twins

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kpopfanfictrash · 2 years ago

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Love to Hate (Extra Scene I: Jungkook’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Author’s Note: This scene takes place during Chapter 1 of Love to Hate and is told from Jungkook’s point of view. PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE STORY BEFORE READING THIS SCENE (otherwise there will be spoilers lol).

Rating: 18+

Warnings: brief mention of past suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 7,393

Contrary to public opinion, Jeon Jungkook is rarely late.

In fact, he arrived at his best friend, Yoongi’s, restaurant a half hour early to hover in the kitchen and taste-test (read: steal) Yoongi’s latest creations. Eventually, Jungkook was thrown out on pain of death and now, here he is. Seated at a table in the center of Chez Moi, Chez Toi, five minutes early for his date – stomach equal parts dread and hors d’oeuvres.

Casual, Jungkook shakes his napkin over his lap – black, matching his suit. Attention to detail is one of the many areas in which Yoongi excels. There’s a reason the man has a Michelin Star.

Detail happens to be a strength of Jungkook’s, as well.

Attention to detail. Punctuality. A certain kind of ruthlessness necessary for business. All three learned from his father who, while a terrible husband and parent, can’t be denied a savvy businessman. Jungkook learned from the best.

Hiding the twist of his mouth, Jungkook adjusts a cuff beneath the table. Despite his overall apathy for tonight’s date, Jungkook dressed in his favorite suit. Another lesson from his father: never underestimate the currency of appearance.

Scanning the restaurant, Jungkook observes how true this is. The woman in the corner is here with a man who’s clearly not her husband; her covert glances and tapping foot are dead giveaways. Beside them, a besotted man is about to propose – he keeps looking at the kitchen, grazing his pocket to ensure the ring is there.

This rule also holds true for Jungkook. When he agreed to his father’s terms, Jungkook had no idea things would go this far, nor that he’d still be the topic of headlines years later. Leaning back in his seat, Jungkook ensures his mask of disinterest remains.

He was twenty-one when he made the deal with his father.

Hardly old enough to be making decisions and yet, Jungkook was desperate to get his mother out from beneath her husband’s thumb. She hadn’t felt well for some time, and Jungkook’s father refused treatment for one excuse or another. Hot-headed and young, Jungkook entered his father’s office and demanded a deal – whatever his father wanted in exchange for his mother’s freedom.

Jungkook remembers that night with perfect clarity, the same way he recalls all life-changing events. Leaning back, a slow smile spread across his father’s face and Jungkook’s own stomach sank, realizing he’d been played.

Complicity, his father said. Obedience. An heir for the company.

His office was dark; Jungkook’s father often worked late or at least, said that he did. The skyline shone through floor-to-ceiling glass, perforating them from the city below. Always, his father seated himself behind glass. Jungkook couldn’t remember a time when it’d been any other way.

Staring at his father, Jungkook solemnly realized this was his future. A life behind glass, placed on the path he tried hard to avoid – the cost of his mother’s freedom, he realized then, was his own. Still, Jungkook did what he needed to do, and he nodded.

Turning to leave, Jungkook was almost at the door when his father spoke again.

“Another thing,” he said casually. “Before you take over the company as CEO, I’ll need you to assist with some… PR concerns.”

Jungkook paused, one hand on the door before glancing sideways. “What sort of issues?”

With a shrug, his father poured whiskey from a tumbler at his desk. Jungkook’s gaze followed the motion. “This and that,” he said. “I’ll let you know details when I have them.”

Jungkook stared as the glass filled, consumed by a sense of foreboding. He should have inquired further, but that night, his instinct of flight won. By then, Jungkook knew well enough to leave before his father got drunk.

“Fine,” he exhaled as he turned. “But in return, you pay for mom’s doctor visits and any resulting treatment. And an apartment,” he added on a whim. “One for her, and one for me – apartments you won’t have access to and won’t visit.”

His father’s gaze narrowed, but Jungkook swore a slight flash of approval shone within.

“Very well.” His father inclined his head. “We have a deal, son.”

Fighting back laughter, Jungkook opened the door. “Don’t call me that,” he said before walking out.

More than six years ago and still, Jungkook is paying the piper. Things happened fast after that. He soon realized what his father meant by ‘PR issues.’ Jungkook’s father was, indeed, a shrewd businessman. He inherited the company in a state of near-bankruptcy and managed to turn things around in a matter of years. This was accomplished by investing in areas no one else dared touch. Through risky investments and forging back door deals with dubious suppliers.

Each time a new disaster came to light, Jungkook took the fall – in one way or another. For a while, Jungkook embraced it.

It was the only recourse he had. To lose himself in the physical pleasure his life forced upon him. His early twenties were a blur of work, women, and alcohol. His friend, Taehyung – locked in a similar situation – was at his side, drowning in self-pity. For a while, Jungkook thought this was how he would live and eventually, die.

And then, his mom passed away.

Another crystal-clear night in Jungkook’s mind. The scent of her hospital room is with him even now – white lilies on the table, lemon disinfectant, plastic furniture, and the lingering smell of her sweat and his tears. Another nighttime memory, the lights from the parking lot striping the room black and white. His mom’s hand squeezed his, pulling him close for her last words. Words when she begged Jungkook to stop living for other people.

She died soon after and, in the blurred weeks that followed, Jungkook could barely force himself to get dressed, let alone make a change. When he finally managed to shower, he recalls standing on his balcony overlooking the city. Jungkook’s depression wasn’t bad enough to consider the jump, but he stared at the buildings and considered his life.

He thought about everything he’d given up – happiness, love, family, a career that he chose. Friendship, too because despite having Yoongi and Taehyung, Jungkook hadn’t told them everything. They suspected about Jungkook’s arrangement with his father, but each time they inquired, he pushed them away. They knew about Liam, but not the disaster which followed.

Lips tight, Jungkook realized that, for all his accomplishments, his mother was right. Everything he’d done was for someone else and God, did Jungkook want to change that. Turning around, he went inside and promptly dumped his whiskey down the drain.

Jungkook often divides his life into three parts. Pre and post the PR deal with his father and then, a third segment after his mom died. In the two years since, Jungkook has done his best to live up to her memory. He decided he wanted to stay with Jeon Energy but not as it is.

Enlisting the help of similar minded individuals (Kim Namjoon in particular), Jungkook sat down and created a plan. A slow-moving plan, which – if it doesn’t destroy him – will lead to success, and the removal of his father from the company entirely.

Exhaling roughly, Jungkook smooths his expression. The plan is why Jungkook doesn’t have time for things as trivial as dating, but his aunt insisted. If Jungkook has any moral compass, it’s her and so, he couldn’t help but agree.

Although Jungkook has tried to reverse his image, the process has been akin to wading through quicksand. Especially since the bad press doesn’t stop until Jungkook becomes the CEO. The Board votes on his father’s successor at the end of next month, meaning all Jungkook’s energy should be focused on that and not –

You enter the room, and his cacophony of thoughts goes silent.

Jungkook recognizes you, having thoroughly researched before tonight. Another habit from his father: always know more about your opponent than they know about you. Perhaps most wouldn’t apply rules from the boardroom to bedroom, but most people aren’t a Jeon. Thinking fast, Jungkook recalls the dossier on top of his desk.

Y/N Y/L/N. 29 years old. Estranged from family excepting brother, Jason. Lives alone in an apartment of little value. Scratch that – lives without roommates, but with one dog. Founder and CEO of Clean Ocean, an organization dedicated to the earth’s natural waterways. Outspoken critic of Jeon Energy.

Although his assistant showed him your Instagram, none of the photos of you were clear. Most were of scenery or of your dog, the occasional group shot with friends. Up close, Jungkook can’t help but feel misguided because you’re –

Stunning. The thought occurs before he knows what to do with it and Jungkook watches, baffled as you lean across the hostess stand. Everyone watching – which is nearly the entire room, Jungkook realizes with a sharp stab of jealousy – is afforded a stellar view down your dress.

Abruptly, Jungkook pushes himself to stand. In his haste, he bangs his knee on the table, knocking over his water and spilling across the cloth.

“Shit,” he exhales, frantically trying to scoop up the water when a waiter appears.

“I’ll clean that up, sir,” he says, calmly removing Jungkook’s glass and blotting the fabric. “I’ll be along shortly with a new water.”

“I – thank you,” Jungkook exhales, forcing himself to sit.

Face heated, he scans the room for you again. No one seems to have noticed Jungkook’s lapse, which is good. Instead, all eyes fixate on you, scanning the tables before landing on Jungkook.

Jungkook watches you drink him in. You blink, slow and long and Jungkook’s heart races. But then – smile disappearing, your lips pinch as you turn away. Before Jungkook can register the sudden change, you’re crossing the room with all the enthusiasm of a funeral march.

Forcing himself to look away, Jungkook exhales. The fact that you’re attractive changes nothing. Based on your expression, you feel the same way about this date as Jungkook. Admittedly, Jungkook can’t help but be curious about why that is.

He isn’t trying to be arrogant, but most people enjoy what they see when they look at him. Jungkook doesn’t date, but he does take women out. To dinner and then back to his place for a single night of fun. Occasionally, multiple nights if the person doesn’t cling but overall, Jungkook isn’t a relationship guy. Hard not to be, with his father’s deal hanging over his head.

Your reasons for being unhappy about tonight are less clear.

Coming to a stop at the table, your gaze dips to Jungkook and he can’t help but feel he hasn’t measured up. “Hi,” you say politely. “I’m Y/N – your date?”

You phrase this as a question, as though Jungkook wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but stare. Wondering if this is some sort of strategy, Jungkook narrows his gaze, but you seem genuinely unsure.

Realizing he still hasn’t spoken, Jungkook shoves back his chair to stand. “Yes – hello,” he says, moving to pull out your chair. “I’m Jungkook, but you seem to already know that.”

Ducking your head, you avoid a response. Once seated, Jungkook pushes you forward, his fingertips brushing skin at the base of your neck. Goosebumps dot your skin as Jungkook pauses, taken aback by his own reaction.

Your skin is soft, smooth, and this close, he can smell whatever perfume you decided to wear. A hint of citrus undercut by deeper musk which makes his jaw clench.

Forcing himself to keep going, Jungkook crosses to his chair and sits as the waiter returns. “Thank you,” Jungkook says, accepting a fresh glass of water.

Nodding, their waiter folds both hands over the front of their uniform. “Can I bring you any drinks before dinner?”

“A glass of Moët,” Jungkook says, not bothering to look.

“I’ll have the same,” you say, closing your menu.

Jungkook watches you turn to face him, head-on. The waiter disappears, leaving him alone and for the first time in his life, Jungkook is at a loss for what to say. Well, maybe not the first time, but it’s been a while.

Usually, Jungkook knows what to expect from his semi-date. His reputation tends to precede him in certain circles. A date with Jungkook means three things: 1) that he’ll pay, 2) that the night will likely end in sex, and 3) that the woman is guaranteed at least one orgasm. It’s Jungkook’s way of blowing off steam but faced with you, he finds himself unsure. With this date being set up by his aunt, it’s highly unlikely you know the rules.

Casting about for small talk typically reserved for business meetings, Jungkook lands on the weather. “So,” he says, reaching for his water. “It’s been unusually warm this month.”

Whatever you expected, it wasn’t that. Face scrunched, you look down, scanning the menu as though its contents are fascinating.

“It has,” you agree, declining to add anything of substance.

Jungkook blinks, floundering for what to say. It’d help if your dress were less distracting, he decides. The velvet is so soft, it’s impossible not to think about how it’d feel beneath his palms. A single diamond hangs around your neck, practically drawing an arrow to your delectable cleavage.

Forcing himself not to stare, Jungkook takes a sip of water. He can’t allow his most recent thoughts to show on his face – barely ten minutes have passed, and good etiquette decrees this meal lasts at least ninety.

“I hope traffic wasn’t bad getting here,” Jungkook says, wondering if you drove yourself.

From what was provided by his assistant, Jungkook knows you’ve separated from your family in all but name. Jungkook wondered when he saw this, interested in what perks – if any – you were allowed to keep. He wondered other things, too – like how you broke free and why. Whether you’ve any attachment to either parent or, like Taehyung, despise mother and father equally.

“Not bad,” you murmur, staring hard at your menu. “I came straight from work.”

Jungkook waits for something more, but it never comes. Incredulous, he sits back in his seat. He wonders if you plan on responding like this the entire evening, or if there’ll be a respite at some point. If you’re obtuse for ninety minutes, it’d be one of the longest dinners of Jungkook’s life.

Or, he realizes, awareness prickling, that could be your goal. To bore Jungkook so greatly, he loses interest and leaves before the polite amount of time. It’d be well-played if that were.

Gaze narrow, Jungkook surveys you again. From what he knows, you’re not exactly shy. Yes, you stay on the fringes of ‘good’ society but it’s by choice rather than lack of ability. For some odd reason, it bothers him that you refuse to give him the time of day. That you’ve clearly lumped Jungkook with everyone else in polite company – even if he hasn’t said or done anything to change that, whispers a voice in the back of his mind.

An irrational desire to provoke has Jungkook leaning forward. “So, Y/N,” he says as their champagne arrives. “Do you have any hobbies?”

“I enjoy reading.”

“Oh, really?” Jungkook sits back, trailing his finger over the rim of his glass. “What do you read?”

“A lot of things.” A shrug. “I’m not picky.”

“I can’t say the same,” he says blithely. “I find it often takes something… extraordinary to spark my interest.”

“How nice for you,” you say flatly, the first sign of your annoyance peering through.

Jungkook bites his lip to keep from laughing. Eyes narrowed, you watch him from across the table. Odd – part of the heat to your gaze must be ire, but it’s not alone. Curious, Jungkook’s gaze drops to your collarbone as recalls the sensation when his hand brushed your skin.

There was something there when you touched; something magnetic and strong. Despite it, you don’t seem to like Jungkook, which honestly might be part of the draw. He’s never been able to turn down a challenge and can’t remember the last time someone spoke to him honestly.

For the following minutes, Jungkook carries the conversation and watches your annoyance grow. Fingers tightening on the stem of your glass, the furrow between your brows growing deeper and deeper. Despite the tells, you conceal your true feelings well. If Jungkook weren’t as adept himself, he might even be fooled.

It isn’t the only reason Jungkook finds himself staring. The more your annoyance with him grows, the more impossible it becomes to look away. Lips bitten and heat to your gaze, he can’t not stare – Jungkook challenges any willing man with blood in his body.

“What about you?” he asks. “Any upcoming vacation plans?”

Something inside you snaps. Jungkook sees it in the way you straighten, all trace of politeness vanishing in an instant. Setting down your glass, you take a moment to arrange your napkin before looking up.

Dismissive, you sweep him from head to toe. “No,” you say, reaching for the champagne. “No vacations planned.”

Jungkook watches another moment, mesmerized before looking down. Rather than feel victorious, he feels more like the vanquished. Giving himself a firm shake, Jungkook wonders what he’s doing.

It’s been several weeks since he had sex, which must be throwing him off. Jungkook doesn’t usually go this long in a dry spell, but work has been demanding. It must be why he’s responding to you so strangely.

What Jungkook needs is to get laid. Once he leaves this restaurant, he decides to call Taehyung and head to a club. He can find someone there to whet his appetite. Someone he can sleep with and not imagine your lips, your hands, your –

“Have you both had a chance to peruse the menu?”

Jerking upright, Jungkook nearly knocks over his water a second time. Catching your glance, Jungkook puts down his menu.

“Yes, I’m ready,” you say pleasantly.

“Same here.” Jungkook turns. “I’ll have the steak au poivre. And you, Y/N?”

Handing your menu to the waiter, you add, “Coq au Vin for me. Thank you.”

“And another two glasses of Moet,” he adds, only to wince. You don’t seem like the type who appreciates someone ordering for you. “Is that alright, Y/N?”

Startled, you meet his gaze and Jungkook forces himself not to look away. Eventually, you nod and resume toying with the thin stem of your glass.

Jungkook tries not to watch, tries not to imagine your hands anywhere else on his body. “So, Y/N,” he says, dragging his thoughts from the gutter. “What line of work are you in?”

Exhaling once, you sip your champagne and try not to look bored. “Oh, you know. My parents are in the shipping industry. Lots of international work, travel –”

Jungkook frowns. “So, you work for your parents?”

Abruptly, you cease.

Surprise flickers across your face, as though you didn’t expect him to be listening, but Jungkook is understandably confused. Everything he knows about you indicates you run a charitable organization. He doesn’t understand why you’d lie; not unless his information was incorrect.

“No,” you say coolly.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “Why would you tell me what your parents do, and not you?”

A vein pulses at your throat. Although you seem annoyed by his line of questioning, Jungkook isn’t trying to provoke you anymore. It baffles him that someone like you – someone who got out, who made something of themselves – would fall back on their parents’ accomplishments. Surely, you care more about Clean Ocean than your parents’ company.

Unless Jungkook is the problem here.

Unease settles, spreading through his veins. Jungkook is the Jeon heir, after all – set to inherit Jeon Energy, the worst polluter up and down the coast. Really, the question isn’t why you don’t like him but why you came at all.

“Honestly?” you sigh, your mask of politeness disappearing. “Because I’m on this date as a favor to my parents and have absolutely no desire to see you after tonight. The less you know about me, the better.”

Your admission leaves Jungkook slightly winded. Doing a parent a favor hits closer to home than he’d like and now, he understands your evasiveness. He gets why you’re here and why you might not want to give Jungkook the time of day.

His thoughts snag on the last sentence. Even if you left right now, Jungkook would still know you. He’s not sure why you’re acting as though you’re mysterious when in certain circles, you’re more notorious than he is.

“Oh, don’t look all hurt,” you sigh, misinterpreting the look. “I know exactly who you are, Jeon Jungkook. Playing dumb is beneath you.”

Well, that answers one question, at least. You do know who he is. Forcing a smile, Jungkook sits back in his seat.

“I’m not hurt,” he says honestly. “Although I am curious. What, exactly, have you heard about me, Y/N?”

He purposefully drops his voice on your name, and watches your features slacken. Interesting. This thing between you tautens, as alive as before.

“I’ve… heard you date around,” you exhale. “And I’m not interested in dating you.”

Jungkook stares. If you’d said you weren’t interested in going to the moon, he’d be less surprised. Jungkook doesn’t date – most people know that. And most people try to date him anyway, which makes you an anomaly.

Maybe now he is arrogant, but Jungkook isn’t used to being undesired. Unable to help it, he smiles, gaze dipping to your dress and back up when you frown.

“You’re not interested in dating me?” he asks, taking another sip of his drink. “Then, why did you agree to come out tonight?”

“Like I said, I’m here as a favor to my mother. Why are you here, anyways?” you accuse, turning his question around. “I don’t exactly fit your typical profile of dates.”

Jungkook frowns. You’re gorgeous, ambitious and have successfully undercut him at each turn tonight. If he were going to date, it’d be someone like you – not that he wants to date, and not that he has the option to do so.

“How so?” Jungkook asks.

“Well, for one,” you mutter, “I’m nearly thirty.”

Jungkook stares. “And?”

“And…” You pause, as though waiting for him to catch on. “The women you date are usually closer to twenty.”

Lips twitching, Jungkook sips his drink again. He could refute that point but right now, it satisfies to know you’re thinking about his sexual partners. Yes, Jungkook slept with women in their early twenties when he was in his early twenties but lately, anyone younger than twenty-five makes him cringe.

“Untrue,” he says. “I’m incredibly open-minded, Y/N.”

“I’m two years older than you are, Jeon.”

Odd. Usually, Jungkook hates being called by his last name. Yet another reminder of the family legacy but on your lips, it almost sounds like an endearment.

“In my experiences,” he says lowly, “women who’ve had more time to… live is never a bad thing.”

He pauses at the word live, making sure you know another word should be there. Understanding dawns on your face as, exhaling softly, you look away.

“And then there’s that,” you say, turning back. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but your dates usually end in sex.”

Jungkook is wholly unprepared for the way his body responds.

All the blood in his body rushes to his cock, tightening his trousers in an unseemly fashion. Casually, Jungkook adjusts himself and tries not to think about sex with you. Your indecent dress on his floor, necklace swinging as he pounds –

“And?” Jungkook rasps, his voice embarrassingly hoarse.

“And.” Your brows draw together. “I just told you I’m not interested in having sex.”

“Actually,” Jungkook says, recovering the conversation. “That’s not what you said.”

“I – what?”

Your lips part in confusion and Jungkook suppresses the urge to press his thumb to their indent. Instead, he brushes the back of your hand with his own. Gaze lowering to your skin against his, your breath quickens.

A flash goes off.

Instantly, you stiffen and Jungkook whips around. Withdrawing, he scans the room for the culprit and notes a family celebrating a birthday in the corner. Likely they’re the source but just in case, Jungkook makes a mental note to email his assistant.

Turning around, Jungkook meets your gaze. “What you said,” he continues, “was you’re not interested in dating me. And that you have no interest in seeing me after tonight. Nothing,” he pauses, gaze searching, “about not wanting to have sex.”

At this, your eyes widen. Jungkook waits for you to respond, to say that’s not what you meant but you do neither of these things.

“Are you saying you’re not interested in having sex with me?” he presses, quiet.

Gaze wide, your lips part to respond when the waiter appears. Sinking into his seat, Jungkook curses the timing and sips his champagne.

“Objectively, yes,” you say once the waiter leaves the Moët. “I’m attracted to you. I’m sure the sex would be great – or at least, it’d be adequate. In my experience, male self-confidence is rarely correlated with an orgasm. But I’d sooner drink battery acid than date anyone my mother set me up with.”

This last line is so deadpan, Jungkook nearly spits his drink. “Okay, wow,” he chokes, setting down his glass. “First off, there’s that word ‘date’ again. Second – only adequate?” Jungkook mock frowns. “On behalf of hot men everywhere, I take that personally.”

You don’t pretend to hide your eye roll. “Are you serious?”

“Occasionally.” Jungkook grins. “Usually on accident.”

“You didn’t answer my question, though,” you say as though he hasn’t spoken. “Why did you come here tonight?”

Drumming his fingers on top of the table, Jungkook considers. Usually, he’d respond with some lame answer like, I heard how beautiful you were and had to see for myself, or, how could I be anywhere else tonight? If he said those things to you though, Jungkook gets the feeling you’d dump the champagne in his lap.

Besides, Jungkook doesn’t really want to use lines with you. He’s full of the strange urge to be honest– which is why it infuriates him that you’re pretending to be no one. You’re someone. You’re Y/N Y/L/N, for crying out loud.

A woman who’s gotten deeper under Jungkook’s skin in an hour than anyone has in years.

“Do you seriously think I don’t know who you are, Y/N?” he asks, his voice low. “Your parents own the largest shipping corporation in the world. You’ve been estranged for years, and have a younger brother named Jason. Currently, you run a philanthropic organization. Thing is, though,” he says, the words pouring out. “Where’d you get the money to start it?”

Your eyes narrow, and Jungkook realizes he may have pushed too far. “My organization came from my trust fund,” you say stiffly. “Having built it from scratch, I know exactly how it began. What have you ever done that didn’t include your family name, Jeon?”

This time when you say the name Jeon, it sounds like an insult.

A lone muscle ticks in his jaw, wanting badly to contradict but unable to do so. Not without trusting you and frankly, trust in his world isn’t easy to come by. Everything he and Namjoon have worked for relies on the element of surprise. If his father suspects for a second what Jungkook has planned, he’ll never let him become CEO.

“I know what my reputation is, Y/N,” Jungkook says quietly. “And I know you think you know what my reputation is. But did you ever stop to think maybe not everyone is as forthcoming as you are?”

You pause. “What?”

“Nothing.” He roughly exhales. “So. Back to sex.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden change. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Which was?”

“Don’t make me ask again,” you say sternly.

A shiver runs down Jungkook’s spine. Somewhat surprised by his reaction, Jungkook shifts in his seat. Usually, he prefers to be in charge but now, he’s consumed by the visual of you saying the same thing in bed and can’t stop the surge of pleasure it brings.

“If I tell you the truth,” Jungkook says, picking up his glass to swirl. “Will you answer a question of mine in return?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Fine. I’ll answer a question.”

In a moment of utter insanity, Jungkook decides to tell you the truth. “I agreed to come on this date because my aunt asked me to. After my mom died, she’s the only person in my family I’m close to. I planned on waiting the obligatory ninety minutes, then leaving before dessert.” Unable to stop himself, Jungkook’s gaze dips. “Until you walked in, that is. That’s a damn good dress if you didn’t already know.”

Slowly, you blink and Jungkook wonders what’s possibly going through your head.

“Ninety minutes,” you murmur, looking up. “I knew there was a rule.”

Jungkook presses his lips together to keep him from laughing. “Now, it’s your turn,” he says.

You lift a brow and so, Jungkook leans in. From a young age, people have said his gaze is intimidating. Most aren’t comfortable with direct eye contact for prolonged periods of time and so, Jungkook uses this often to his advantage.

Most aren’t you though, meeting his gaze with barely a blink.

“My question,” Jungkook murmurs. “Is – are you really not interested in me?”

The question slips out before he can stop it. Were Jungkook smarter, he might’ve said something strategic to gain the upper hand. Apparently, he’s not smart. Apparently, Jungkook deems your thoughts more important than winning.

Some of your sharpness diminishes. “Really?”

“What?”

“Any question.” The corner of your lip twitches. “You could’ve asked me for my credit card number, but instead you’re asking me about sex.”

Time with you is more valuable. The thought occurs to Jungkook before he can stop it but luckily, he keeps his mouth shut this time.

“Just answer me,” he says.

You don’t answer for a few moments and during that time, Jungkook’s thoughts wander. He’s on the verge of retracting the question when you exhale.

“Truthfully?”

Jungkook nods, holding his breath.

Uncertain, you reach across and lightly brush his suit with the edge of your finger. Jungkook goes still, every nerve ending focused on your touch. When he finally looks up, he finds you staring, and something foreign stirs in his chest.

“I’m not interested in dating,” you repeat and now, Jungkook wonders if you say this as much for yourself as for him. “I left my parents’ world as soon as I could and have no intention of returning.”

Oddly, an unseen weight lifts from his shoulders. In his darkest thoughts, Jungkook wondered if maybe your hesitance was due to him but no. This has more to do with what Jungkook stands for – the world he hasn’t left – which he can understand.

“But?” he presses, sensing there’s more.

“But,” you murmur, gaze dropping to his lips. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in… other things.”

Jungkook stares blatantly back. “Like what.”

“That wasn’t part of your question.”

“Indulge me,” he breathes, consumed by his desire.

Slowly, you pull back and settle into your seat. Jungkook mourns the light touch of your hand. “Show me a photo of you and your aunt,” you declare.

Slowly, he blinks. “This is a weird kind of foreplay, Y/N.”

“Just do it,” you sigh, and there’s that tone again.

Removing his phone from his pocket, Jungkook opens his photos. It doesn’t take long to find one that works – Jungkook isn’t exactly a memory saver. Turning his screen around, he watches you study the picture and nod.

“Alright,” you declare.

Pocketing the device, Jungkook lifts a brow. “Going to tell me what that was about?��

“I haven’t decided.”

You seem settled though, as though a decision’s been reached. Before Jungkook can ask what it is, the waiter returns. A meal – which any other night would look delicious – is placed before him, and Jungkook realizes the only appetite he has is for you.

Loudly, a gurgle cuts through the silence.

Jungkook’s gaze snaps to yours. “When did you last eat?”

Scoffing, you pick up your fork. “Please. Let’s not do that, Jeon.”

Cutting into his steak, he cocks his head. “Do what?”

“This weird, overprotective boyfriend thing. That thing where you monitor my meals and scold me for not eating enough. I know my own body, thanks.”

You say this at the precise moment Jungkook swallows and as a result, he nearly chokes again. Swallowing, his eyes water and Jungkook pounds his chest.

“Wow,” he coughs. “I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of being too boyfriend before. This must be a first.”

The opposite would be truer. Jungkook has had several unsettling encounters where women wanted more and refused to take no as an answer. Jungkook has been called many things before – loner, asshole, cold-hearted – but never boyfriend.

“Oh, please,” you say, your lips twitching. “You might not have been a boyfriend before, but you have the whole ‘boyfriend thing’ down.”

Jungkook is baffled. “What do you mean by ‘boyfriend thing?’”

“It’s all of this,” you say, gesturing up and down his chest. “The suit, the tie, the perfectly mussed hair. The way you order champagne and wait ninety minutes before ditching your date. You like to give the appearance of a boyfriend without actually having to be one.”

Jungkook stares at you, his world suddenly fuzzy. His tie feels too tight, awareness crawling over his skin as you see right through him.

“Because your whole world is about appearances,” you continue, completely unaware you’re speaking his mind. “It doesn’t matter if you actually date someone, so long as people think that you are. It doesn’t matter what you do, so long as no one complains. I don’t actually think you’re capable of giving a single person your undivided attention.”

Irony of ironies, since Jungkook currently watches as though you’re the only one in the world. “You have my undivided attention right now.”

“For now,” you admit, picking up your fork. “Anyways, back to your original question – what I’m interested in from you.”

“I’m listening,” Jungkook murmurs – the understatement of the year.

He’s hanging on each word from your lips, waiting for the moment the tables turn. That moment when you prove his suspicions right; when you change your tune and become the rest. When you ask Jungkook for a favor, an introduction – something to make this more than what it is.

The longer he sits here though, the more Jungkook thinks you have no ulterior motive. Which would also be a first.

“I believe we’re in a unique situation,” you say at last.

“We are?”

Smiling, you nod. “You’re only interested in sex from your dates, and I’m not interested in anything but sex from you.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch, taken aback by such a direct assessment. “Why do you assume I only want sex from my dates?”

Never mind that you’re correct – Jungkook wants to hear why you think that. A nagging voice in the back of his mind whispers otherwise and Jungkook shuts down the voice immediately. He can’t possibly be so juvenile as to desire the first woman who tells him no.

“Am I wrong?”

“Well, no.” Jungkook smiles. “It’s just you don’t seem to have a very high opinion of me.”

His response seems to confuse you. “Now who’s the one twisting words? I said you don’t want to date people, not that I think you’re a bad person. I just think… we’re very different people who want very different things.”

The way you say this makes his stomach sink. Jungkook wishes it were months from now, when everything was in the open and he could tell you that yes, you’re more alike than you realize. As it is though, you’re correct and the fact rankles.

“You keep saying that,” he murmurs, leaning in. “And I just don’t believe you. We were both born into the same lifestyle, we’re both currently wearing designer clothes. The only difference is that I’m honest about what I am and you’re not.”

The moment the words leave his lips, Jungkook regrets them. After all, he’s the bigger hypocrite seated around the table – wanting you to see him for who he is but in reality, too scared to offer any piece of himself.

“Honest?” you blurt. “The only honest thing you’ve said to me tonight is you have an aunt that you love.”

“Don’t forget the part about me being good in bed,” Jungkook says, retreating to safer ground. “That was also true.”

“So,” you exhale, shaking your head. “What I’m saying is I have no interest in being your girlfriend. And you have no interest in being my boyfriend. Judging by the way you keep staring at my tits though, I’d say you’re attracted to me. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says without hesitation.

“Good.” Sitting back, you lift your glass. “Which is why I think we should have sex.”

Jungkook goes still. Another lesson learned from his father – in moments of turmoil, never let your opponent know how badly you want something. And he wants you very badly.

After a moment, Jungkook cuts into his steak and takes a bite. “You’d have sex with someone you don’t even like?” he asks once he swallows.

Jungkook watches you curiously, unable to wrap his mind around this. There’s clearly something between you, but Jungkook can’t decide whether it’s good or bad. You get under his skin so easily, provoking parts of himself Jungkook thought were long buried.

You shrug. “Why not?”

Hardly a glowing recommendation, but you seem to be sincere. Jungkook watches you another moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things can’t possibly be as simple as they seem.

Your organization despises Jeon Energy, and for good reason. Maybe you’re here to get close to Jungkook and use it as blackmail. Although Jungkook fails to see how sex with him would achieve that. His reputation is known and you’re gorgeous. If anything, the fallout might be worse for you.

Mistaking his silence as reticence, you slowly exhale. “Look,” you say, setting down your fork. “It’s been a long time, okay? Work has been hell, so I’ve had no time to date. My last relationship ended over a year ago and that asshole couldn’t tell a clit from a urethra. You have a reputation for being good in bed and – at the very least – you’re not bad to look at.”

Several thoughts follow this rather stunning rant. First, indignation on your behalf for the asshole who failed Health Education. Second, an odd mixture of relief and disappointment when you say this is about sex. And third, a surge of satisfaction when you admit you find him attractive.

“So, you want an orgasm,” Jungkook says bluntly.

“Amongst other things.”

Sitting back, Jungkook runs his tongue over the backs of his teeth. You follow the motion with your eyes, and Jungkook realizes you’re nearly as turned on as he is.

This is good, he decides. This is safe. Sex is familiar ground for Jungkook. He’s certain he can give you an orgasm – not so certain about anything else. Some of the tension in his chest drains, replaced by sudden confidence.

“What other things?” he murmurs.

“I…” You take a deep breath. “Most guys are too gentle. If we’re only going to do this once, I want it to be good.”

Images flood his mind, and Jungkook feels his balls tighten. “You want it rough, princess? I can do that. Anything else?”

Your features scrunch before you blurt, “No oral.”

He hesitates. “For you or for me? No judgment either way, I just want to know.”

“For me,” you say. “I don’t… like it.”

Jungkook considers. Granted, many people have issues with sensory input, but this doesn’t seem to be the case here.

“You don’t like being eaten out?” he asks, curious.

“It always… sounds nice,” you allow, glancing away. “But then, I just kind of lie there while the guy moves around.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “Sounds as though those men were the problem, not you. But alright, no oral – for now,” Jungkook amends.

You give him a look. “There’s only going to be a now, Jungkook.”

“Right. Better make tonight count, then.”

Reaching for your glass of Moët, you finish this in one sip. Jungkook watches your tongue dart to catch the last drop of liquid and suddenly, can’t wait to get out of this restaurant.

“You’re… not what I expected, Y/N,” he murmurs.

You go still, glancing his way and Jungkook recognizes that look. It’s the look of someone waiting for a punchline and in response, his heart cinches.

“How so?” you say carefully.

Jungkook leans towards you. “Tonight has got to be a first for me.”

“Being propositioned for sex at the dinner table?”

“No.” He can’t help but grin. “That happens surprisingly often. No – I’ve never been propositioned by someone who didn’t like me. Someone I’m not even sure I like back. Just one night, no strings attached. It’s… interesting.”

Your lips settle in a pout. “You’re making this sound completely ridiculous.”

“Oh, it is,” he assures you. “But I’m into it. Okay, should we go?” Standing from the table, Jungkook drains his glass of Moët. Holding out a hand, he waits for you to take it.

You stare at his palm, then return to your food. “I haven’t finished my meal.”

“Okay.” Suppressing a smile, Jungkook takes a seat. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to care about what you ate, though?” he teases. “You’ve got to make up your mind. Should I care about your wellbeing, or should I act like a dick?”

Scowling, you push yourself to stand. “Let’s go,” you say, grabbing your purse.

You stride towards the entrance, hips swaying and Jungkook slowly drags his hand down his face. Once he’s gathered himself, he catches up to you and places a hand on your lower back.

“Teasing?” he murmurs, bending so his lips brush your ear.

You shiver, leaning into him. “That’s the general idea, Jeon.”

Your lips quirk, and Jungkook doesn’t hate his name quite as much anymore. Not when you say it like that, with a hint of sweetness.

Several heads turn when you leave, and Jungkook feels your feet falter, then stop as you notice. Panic etches across your face as you turn.

“Is there another way out,” you say lowly.

Jungkook nods, grabbing your hand to pull you along. The kitchen is closest and, pushing through the metal doors, Jungkook ducks a tray and apologizes. Yoongi scowls at this, melting fast to surprise when he notices your presence.

Jungkook tugs you onward. “Hey, Yoongi,” he calls.

You peer curiously over your shoulder. “You know the head chef?” you ask as you exit, the door shutting behind you.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, coming to a stop outside. “That’s Yoongi, we went to college together. Here we go,” he says as headlights swing into the alley. “For an easy, low-profile exit.”

Rolling your eyes, you enter the backseat and Jungkook shuts the door. Crossing to the other side, he pauses at the trunk to text his assistant. He saw how you looked when you thought someone photographed you and again when you exited.

A pang of understanding goes through him at this. Jungkook knows how difficult it is growing up in the spotlight. While you may have left your family’s business, this invites its own type of scrutiny. Jungkook might be known as an incorrigible playboy, but you’ve been called far worse by his father’s friends.

Jungkook remembers when it happened. Having no skin in the game, he didn’t reach out – not that he could have at the time. Jungkook was brand-new to his father’s deal and not in any position to play knight in shining armor.

Not that he’s in a different position now. Paused with his hand on the door, Jungkook wonders at himself. He’s never considered himself the hero before. It begs the question why – why now and why you?

Jungkook glances down, full of the oddest sensation that if he leaves with you, he won’t be able to go back.

Strangely, the thought isn’t as dismal as he thought it would be. And so, Jungkook enters the backseat and doesn’t look back.

[Series Master List]

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts au #jungkook au

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 7 months ago

Note

At this point, I feel like Lukanette and Adrigami would have worked better as the endgame ships.

Luka's calm presence balances Marinette's anxiety. They're always working towards a common creative goal.

Adrien encourages Kagami to rebel and have fun like he did while Kagami encourages Adrien to be more assertive.

I think you'd probably hate Lukanette and Adrigami if they got as much focus as the love square. The little we saw of them really didn't paint them as meaningfully healthier.

Lukanette painted Luka as an overly indulgent and overly passive pushover who was written more like a mentor than a boyfriend. I was straight up uncomfortable with how fine he was with being a clear rebound. The scene where the kwamis sent him pictures of the Adrien posters in Marinette's room right before their date made me want to grab him by the shoulders and shout, "She is not ready to date you yet! Don't settle like this!"

He could clearly communicate the issues he eventually had with the obvious lying, so he's not a total pushover, but I think Marinette needs someone a little less chill and indulgent and Luka needs someone a little more self aware who is willing to push him a bit.

That's actually why I like Lukagami if I must pick a canon pairing for him. I could totally see Kagami blowing up at him for being so passive whereas Marinette would likely remain oblivious to the passivity. Something like that scene from Risk where Kagami blew up on Adrien:

Kagami: (angrily) Adrien, I saw you on TV this morning, and I know that you don't want to leave. Once again, you let your father decide for you! (harshly) How long are you going to remain his puppet, Adrien? Adrien: (shocked) But... my cousin is gonna talk to him, and- Kagami: (annoyed) This just keeps getting better. You're letting your COUSIN do things for you now? Who's pulling the strings of your life? Your cousin? Your father? Me, when we were together? It's never YOU! You're only good at doing what people tell you to do! Dare to cut your strings, Adrien! (stops and contemplates for a moment, then genuinely apologizes for her harsh manner) ...Forgive me if I hurt you. (hangs up sadly)

This sort of tough love seems like the kind of thing Luka would take to heart, but not be hurt by because he's so chill. On the other hand, I think it's a terrible match for Adrien as he's a pretty sensitive guy with a lot of self worth issues, which is why I don't like Adrigami. Their brief relationship was mostly Kagami steamrolling him and I don't see that changing any time soon. For all of Marinette's flaws, at the very least she never pushed Adrien to be something he wasn't and she does tend to be very gentle with people when she knows they're hurting, which is the kind of support Adrien probably needs. The tough love approach is a really terrible approach for most people. I mean, do you really think stuff like the above exchange would be positive for Adrien's mental health in the long run? At least Luka would communicate if Kagami's approach was hurting him. Adrien would just take it and say nothing like he always does.

Of course, this is all based on what the show did and I don't think a single relationship in the show comes across all that well. The best by far is Ivan and Mylène and even there we still got an episode where it's revealed that Ivan's planning to do nothing but be a house husband when discussing what to study in lycée which was certainly a choice the writers made for a 14-year-old boy and his 14-year-old girlfriend... I don't mind that they've talked about the idea, it is possible to end up happily married to someone you got together with at a young age, but maybe don't imply that your characters are planning to start popping out babies as soon as they turn 18 or even sooner? Because that's how that line comes across in the context when it's given.

In summary, I wouldn't call Lukanette or Adrigami a NOTP, I think there's probably versions of the ships I'd genuinely like (especially Lukanette*), I just don't see them as superior to the love square and I'm mainly in this fandom for the identity shenanigans. You don't get more identity shenanigans than the love square unless you completely rewrite the show's base concept, so I don't have any interest in looking at alternative pairings for Adrien or Martinette. Every pairing the show gave us needs work and, for all its flaws, I do think the love square works fine if you actually let them have character arcs. Their main issue is communication and that's about it. It's a similar issue to why Marinette tends to come across so poorly. She's the main character, so the bad writing effects her more than any other character. The love square is the main ship, so we get the most bad writing about it.

*I actually tried to read Lukanette stuff when I first came to the fandom because I liked his character, but everything I tried was using Lukanette to salt on Adrien and hard pass.

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt

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joelmillersdumbslut · 1 year ago

Text

I took your matches before fire could catch me

(joel miller x f!reader) 18+ part one

summary: Who knew meeting Joel Miller on a dating app would turn into the world's worst first date? (no outbreak. no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact) warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is mid 50's), dirty talk, pet names, fingering, dubious consent, p in v sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, drinking, hand kink, referenced cheating, degradation, angst, orgasm delay/denial. word count: 2.4k a/n: this is my first ever fic, please be gentle :')) a03 link

Another Friday night with a bottle of wine and shitty reality tv to keep you company. It suddenly hits you. Pangs of loneliness. You’re nearly 28 years old and you’re destined for the single life. Relationships never seem to last with you, or at least make it past the honeymoon phase. You take a sip straight from the bottle as you curse the boys who pretend to be men. The ones who’ve fucked you over, the ones who “aren’t ready for a relationship” after declaring their love for you and fucking you for six months, but will change their status and post a picture on Facebook with their arms wrapped around a new woman days after your breakup. When will it be your turn?

You’re soon drunk enough to make questionable decisions. You download that new dating app your friends keep gushing about. Lily. You tap on your phone screen, a picture of a flower loading up with the catchphrase “Are you ready for your love to bloom?” You groan at that alone, tempted to turn right around and delete the app already. But, something inside you tugs at you to give it a try anyway. You upload pictures, some selfies, some with friends, some candids at the beach, at a concert, at the park. Your bio is hard to come up with though. How can you use 400 characters to describe yourself to a stranger? You settle with including your name, a generic title of your occupation, some of your hobbies, and ending it with an open invitation for drinks. There. Easy enough, right?

Now, it’s time to swipe. Apparently when you like someone’s profile, you send them a virtual flower. A lily, to be exact. In order to message someone, they have to send you a lily back. You start to wonder if this app can get any cornier when your first profile appears in the queue. He’s an older man. 56 to be exact. You don’t remember setting an age limit, but you’re intrigued by his handsome appearance. His dark hair appears to be graying, his brown eyes sinking into you from beyond the screen. You swipe through his profile. He has nothing written so you have to guess his personality and hobbies from the pictures alone. There’s a picture of him with a teenage girl. Maybe his daughter? Another one of him playing guitar. Maybe he likes music. Maybe he’s a rockstar. He looks rugged enough to be one. A picture of him sitting at a table in red flannel with a beer in hand, a small smile emerging from behind his facial hair. He’s… hot. And too old for you. Fuck it. You send him a lily. Then you throw your phone down and pace all night wondering if he’ll send you one back.

In the morning, you're matched with Joel.

—

You ask Joel out for drinks. Immediately within your first message. All the dating advice given to you by the Internet says not to wait. Get to know someone as fast as possible for best results. No time to get attached if it doesn’t work out. You’re not much of a texter anyway, so you ask him if he wants to grab some beers at your favorite dive bar. You hate beer. You hate dive bars. But, you’d be willing to drink a thousand pale ales if it meant you got to share this attractive man’s air supply.

Joel simply says, “Yes.”

—

You realize you stand out at the bar. And not in a good way. You wanted to wear something to reflect your personality. So, you picked out a baby pink bodycon dress that stops at the middle of your thighs. You paired it with your favorite white ankle strap heels. Perfect for a night club. Not for meeting a middle aged dad at a dive bar. You decided you’d worry about that later.

You’re early. Like always. You belly up to the bar, unsure of what to order. You assume they don’t have your favorite brand of white wine, so you ask for your dad’s go-to. Whiskey on the rocks. It’s bitter, and you begin to gag as a man comes up behind you, resting his hand on the small of your back. The smell of sandalwood and dirt pierces your nostrils. You turn to see Joel. He’s wearing jeans and that red flannel from his picture.

“I like women who can hold their liquor,” he states, looking you up and down.

“Well, that’s not me,” you wince, eager to change the subject. “You must be Joel?”

You choose to go for a hug, he holds out his hand instead. The two of you stare at each other, reaching a stalemate, the jukebox in this shitty ass bar blasting a country song you hate. You shake his hand. Noticing his fingers are rough, calloused, and thick. Probably from the guitar playing. Maybe he really is a rockstar.

You sit down on the bar stool, crossing your legs as best as you can. It’s probably not wise to flash a man on the first date. Joel requests a beer from the bartender, and the two of you look anywhere but each other. You start to ask questions.

“So. You play guitar?”

“Yeah.”

“What music do you play?”

“All kinds.”

“Okay. What’s your favorite song to play?”

“Don’t know.”

You pound back your whiskey, slam the glass on the counter, and motion the bartender for another.

“Is that your daughter in your picture?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sarah.”

“Oh, that’s nice. How old is she?”

“Sixteen.”

“Cool. You a single dad then?”

“Yeah.”

You squint at him. This is worse than pulling teeth without Novocain. You decide to launch the ball into his court.

“So. Is there anything you wanna know about me?”

“Yeah, actually. Ain’t you the one who fucked Tommy? While he was still married?”

Your skin ignited. The wind completely knocked out of you. How does he know about… that? How does he know about the guy you slept with one time in college? And even worse, does he know how much you enjoyed the affair, even though you ruined that guy’s marriage and, ostensibly, the rest of his life?

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” you muse, trying to keep your cool.

Joel slams the beer bottle on the counter, its contents flying out the neck and hitting your dress. You stand up, wobbly deer in headlights.

“How do you know?” is all you can whisper.

“Because he’s my brother.”

Tears began welling up in your eyes, your hands shaking. “I was 21, I didn’t know any better.”

“Whatever.” Joel says, turning away from you.

You grab your purse and sprint to the bathroom. Congratulations, you’ve just set a new record for the world's worst first date.

—

You stare in the mirror. Tears streaming down your face. Your makeup is ruined. You’ve accepted that. You’re so angry that this old memory is bubbling up to the surface. The one you’ve tried so hard to push down for the past six years. You met Tommy at a bar while out with your college friends. You noticed the wedding ring, the framed photos on the walls of his living room, but you fucked him anyways. And you left your underwear behind for his wife to find. You enjoyed every moment of it. You even got off to the memories of that one night stand for months after the fact. You’re a goddamn monster. You’ve accepted that.

But, what you can’t accept is that Joel just ruined your favorite dress.

You take a deep breath between sobs, scrounging through your purse for a Xanax. The bathroom door is kicked open, and you turn to yell at the intruder to get out.

But, it’s Joel.

You stare at him with a blank expression while he locks the door behind him. Something you were too distressed to do.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. “Haven’t you had enough from humiliating me in public?”

“No,” he exhales.

Joel quickly shoves you up against the wall. Your purse and its belongings clatter against the dirty floor. You gulp as his left arm leans against the wall, the other reaching up to caress your cheek.

“What was it like?” he asks.

“What was... what like?” you counter.

“Don’t get smart with me.”

You feel like you should be scared. But, you’re not. If anything, you’re super turned on right now while the brother of the man you had an affair with all those years ago begins to fondle you in the bathroom of a dive bar.

Joel’s right hand grabs your breast, he toys with it while staring into your eyes. You can’t help but moan and he pinches harder.

“Answer me,” he growls.

“It was… It was stupid. I was a dumb college girl and what I did was wrong.”

“Then, why’d you do it?”

You swallow. His hand moves down, brushing against your stomach, heading towards the hem of your dress.

“Is this how you treat every girl on the first date? Corner her and interrogate her li-li-like a creep?” you try to sound venomous, but your words are shaky. He notices.

“You can leave any time you want, babygirl.”

The word “babygirl” causes a sensation to ripple through your core. You feel a wetness spreading between your thighs. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You finally answer, “I just wanted his attention. I’ve always liked… Older men.”

Joel pauses, his hand hovering over your thighs. He meets your gaze again.

“Do you now?”

Then he pounces. Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, his fingers are inside your underwear, rubbing your clit. Your head hangs forward as you moan against his touch.

“That what you sounded like when Tommy touched you?”

“N-no,” you sputter, your hips bucking up involuntarily.

“I wanna hear what you sounded like.”

Joel spins you around so you’re facing the wall now, his fingers still groping your pussy. He hikes up your dress and pulls your underwear to the side.

“Wh-why do you wanna hear? You a pervert?” you shoot back at him, but your body betrays you and a gush of wetness secretes from between your thighs.

“You’re a naughty fuckin’ girl, you know that?” Joel mutters in your ear. You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, something prodding against your back. Something big.

“Someone needs to teach you a lesson,” he adds, his fingers now tracing your entrance.

“For what? Fucking your brother? Sounds like someone’s jealous,” you spit. “Like you can still get it up anyway.”

And with that, Joel’s fingers pound into you, a whine fleeing your throat. It hurts at first, but the enjoyment you’re experiencing is quickly overpowering. You shudder at the way his fingers glide in and out of you at a rapid pace.

“Too quiet,” Joel grumbles, biting at your neck. “I wanna hear what you sounded like.”

“You wanna hear me? I’ll make sure everybody in the fucking bar hears me,” you hiss back at him and begin to wail with pleasure.

You quickly feel a pressure growing inside your lower belly. You feel startled, your hands grasping against the wall for anything to hold onto.

“Did Tommy make you cum like this?” Joel whispers in your ear.

You shake your head violently. How does this man know you’re so close already?

“Wanna hear you, babygirl.”

Fuck. There it is again.

You moan Joel’s name as loud as you physically can while your body tenses up and you ultimately surrender to its release. You glance in the mirror on the other side of the room. Watching yourself get finger fucked by this strange old man in a bar bathroom sends you over the edge. What kind of person have you turned into?

Before you can even catch your breath, you feel the tip of his cock plunging into you. You let out a yelp, and you feel Joel’s hand on top of yours. He’s still covered in your cum, and his fingers interlace with yours.

“If you can fuck Tommy, you can take daddy’s cock.”

Your eyes are nearly bulging out of your fucking skull. You try to distract yourself from how turned on you are, how your pussy is already throbbing for more. Especially at the mere mention of Joel calling himself, “daddy.”

“Daddy, huh? You really are a pervert,” you cough as Joel pushes into you.

“You need to be punished,” is all he says. You feel his cock sitting inside you, but Joel doesn’t move. You start whining, rocking your hips back and forth in an attempt to get friction, something, anything. Joel’s hands are immediately on your hips, forcing you to sit still.

“You ruined my favorite dress, the least you can do is make me cum,” you snap at him, squirming in place.

“And you ruined my brother’s life, the least you can do is take your punishment like a good girl.”

This was the most you’d heard him speak all evening. Was he really this hung up on something that happened years ago? And not even directly to him?

Before you can unleash another quip, a heavy groan escapes Joel as he begins to pump relentlessly. Guess he had enough of trying to punish you too.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he snarls, his fingers digging into your hips again, bruises already forming underneath your soft skin.

“I always get what I want,” you murmur, feeling the pressure building inside you again. Your body starts clenching down on his, you begin to pant against the wall. You’re so fucking close.

“Don’t think so, babygirl,” Joel grunts, quickly pulling out.

Instinctively, you whine, and are about to call him a two pump chump when you realize he’s cumming all over your back. His sticky essence dripping down your skin. Your pussy throbs, dissatisfied with the neglect he gave you. Turning around, you see his pants already buckled again and he’s taking off his flannel, tossing it at you. Before you can process what is happening, you glance in the mirror realizing there are now not only beer stains, but also cum stains all over your favorite dress. You catch the shirt in your hands and stand there, mouth agape, as Joel leaves the restroom in a huff.

—

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel x you #joel x reader #joel miller #joel tlou

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havenmoon1369 · 1 month ago

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It's Personal- Chapter 1

November 23, 2023- Tennessee

It's Thanksgiving day at Drew's house. A lot has happened in five years but all for the better, he was in the kitchen helping his wife cook the fixings for their turkey dinner and reminiscing the things that happened over the past five years. He met his wife Amber when she started working for the WWE as a hairstylist in 2019. It was the old cliché of love at first sight, they began dating and a few months later Drew introduced Quinn to her. Quinn and Amber immediately took a liking to each other since they bonded over art and video games, and it was nice having a woman around since Quinn's real mother took off when she was nine years old. Drew knew immediately after he was going to marry Amber. He proposed to her Christmas day 2019 and she said yes. Soon after Drew became WWE champion at Wrestlemania but couldn't celebrate properly due to the pandemic shutting everything down and no fans were in attendance. He was happy to celebrate the win with Amber and Quinn however, and they celebrated every time he defended and won his championship matches. Amber and Drew tied the knot in October 2021, they wanted to get married sooner but decided to wait until things with the pandemic and their careers calmed down a bit. Quinn was changing a lot during these years. Her interests in art became something she wanted to pursue in life outside of school and she was an amazing drawer. She won many contests in school and in the state. She decided in high school she wanted to be a tattoo artist and took all the art classes she could. Drew was so proud of how far she had come since the traumatic year of 2018, she had her anxiety under control, her nightmares were few and far between, and she was looking to a brighter future. In 2022, things slowed a lot for Drew, he was mid-carded for awhile until he got a chance to fight for the championship in Wales at Clash At The Castle, he was so happy because he could wrestle in front of his family who came from Scotland and win, but it didn't turn out that way. He lost the match due to interference and he was mid-carded once again and stayed that way all the way through to middle 2023. In that time though Quinn turned 18 and graduated high school, she chose to go to the university close to home to study Art and begin looking into tattoo apprenticeships once she had a good drawing portfolio made, Drew and Amber were so proud and excited for her. Drew got another championship match at Crown Jewel but failed to win it again, and he began to turn heel not long after leading up to Survivor Series.

"Honey, you okay? You seem distracted." Amber asked Drew, "Oh just got a lot on my mind right now with Survivor Series this weekend and Christmas right around the corner." Drew assured her. "Speaking of Christmas, any news if your family is coming from Scotland?" Amber asked, "No unfortunately not, there's just too much going on right now. I really hate that they can't come though, we haven't seen them since Clash At The Castle, but I'm glad they'll be here for Wrestlemania, always thinking positive nowadays" Drew said as he went to kiss Amber. Just then they heard the front door open "Mom! Dad! I'm home!" Quinn yelled out, "In the kitchen!" Drew answered back, she walked in there and hugged them both. "Smells good, when do we eat?" Quinn asked, "In about an hour, Stephen and Erin are joining us this year" Drew said, "How's uncle Stephen doing? Any news when he'll be back to wrestling?" Quinn asked, "No news yet, neck problems you always have to be careful with, you think you're doing good and then one wrong move you're in worse shape than before" Drew said. "You don't think he's going to retire do you?" Amber asked, "Stephen? No! That Irish brute will wrestle until his limbs come off" Drew said laughing, everyone else laughed as well. "Well I'll be up in my room, let me know when it's time to eat" Quinn said. "Hang on Quinn, you are coming with us to Survivor Series this weekend yeah?" Drew asked, "Yeah as long as I get to say hi to Rhea." Quinn said with a big smirk on her face, "Mhhhmm, of course." Drew said sarcastically as Quinn went upstairs to her room. "Leave her alone Drew, she's got her favorite wrestlers who aren't her dad or her uncle Stephen" Amber said hugging Drew from behind, "Now she likes Damien Priest, Rhea Ripley, Seth Rollins, and Jey Uso. Time flies when you're not looking, she's grown up on us" Drew said turning to hug his wife. "Pretty soon you'll be walking her down the aisle and we'll be grandparents" Amber said jokingly "I'm not ready for that yet, besides I don't think she has a boyfriend" Drew answered, "You never know!" Amber said with a sarcastic tone in her voice, "What's that supposed to mean?" Drew asked intrigued", "Oh Drew I'm just joking, now let's watch some TV and relax before dinner okay?" Amber said, pulling Drew into the living room. While sitting there waiting for Stephen and Erin to arrive, Drew was lost in his thoughts again, but he was thinking about how everything was going smoothly with his career and how the future looked clear for him to eventually become world champion again. Nothing was going to get in his way, or so he thought.

November 25, 2023- Survivor Series

Quinn was in the crowd watching the matches while Amber and Drew were backstage. Amber was working, doing everyone's hair while Drew was warming up for the match. Once Amber was done she went out and joined Quinn and waited for Drew's match. He was wrestling with The Judgment Day in a Wargames match. Usually she would give Drew a good luck kiss before his matches but he had been called into a meeting with a bunch of other wrestlers tonight. Drew came out and was put into a cage with other members of The Judgment Day and they would be let out every so often to go into the match. Once it was Drew's turn, he stormed the ring and began the fight but Quinn and Amber noticed he was a little bit more angry than usual. "What's up with dad? It looks like he's gonna have steam coming out of his ears any minute" Quinn asked her mom, "I don't know honey but I didn't get to see him before coming out here, maybe he's just overplaying it a bit" Amber said trying to reassure Quinn. They continued to watch the match until Drew and The Judgment Day lost, not long after Drew left very angrily without even catching a glimpse at his wife and daughter, just then the referee came over to Amber and Quinn and told them Drew wanted them to go backstage immediately, they both knew then something was really wrong.

Amber and Quinn made their way to the locker rooms and saw Drew coming out in a hoodie and shorts over his wrestling tights. "Baby what's going on, the referee told us to come back here and you looked pretty pissed off in the ring" Amber asked, "We're leaving right now, I'm not sticking around" Drew said in his deep angry voice, "Dad what's wrong?" Quinn asked but before he could answer they all heard a familiar theme song playing and the crowd going crazy. It was CM Punk's theme, he had returned.

#drew mcintyre fanfiction #drew mcintyre #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe stories

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cgogs · 11 months ago

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can you tell us about briar and silas now

okay, so. this outline applies to the original ending of awesamdad, where Briar runs away for good when he learns Dream is having another baby and never comes back, and becomes a mercenary/bounty hunter/___ for hire. Scream Eureka is an alternate ending of THAT bad end. Okay? Okay.

20 years ago, Dream dropped off the face of the earth when Briar was given to him by DreamXD, Punz was naturally absolutely dumbfounded to being ghosted in the middle of all their business. Instead of throwing in the towel, he left the server to keep studying the research they started. Necromancy, blood magic, all kinds of things. Picture a wizard in a tall tower. Kind of like that. Studying old magic nearly entirely from scratch.

He makes a name for himself working miracles and curing the sick, and lands himself as something of a baron. He has a son, a bastard really, and Silas's mother wasn't very interested at all in being a mother, so she leaves him with Punz and splits when Silas is about... mmh, maybe 5? Between 3-5. Punz is like. Alright. Guess I'm taking care of this.

He raises Silas to the best of his ability, keeping in mind that he isn't interested in parenthood at all. Silas lives a very comfortable life with maids and money. He has a staff of tutors and people to train with.

Punz is raising him to be his little lab partner. From the time Silas can handle it, he's in the autopsy room watching his father carve runes on the backs of rib bones to make them weld back together. When he's old enough to stomach it, he's being taught how to harvest organs, how to turn them into ingredients that can be put into potions, etc.

Silas. Hates this. He has very little interest in carrying on his father's life's work. He sneaks out often, is a bit of a flirt, and is regarded by staff as a disappointment. He's incredibly smart, don't get me wrong, but he's not the type of teenager to do well inside stone walls. In his eyes, Punz cares more about that damn book than he does about his own son. (This isn't true. Punz is just. Well.)

When Silas is maybe 17/18, he and Punz have a huge fight that starts with Punz trying to get him to show some incentive in his studies and winds up with Silas running away for good. (Who gives a fuck about any of this when you have everything anyway? What else could you possibly want? Who gives a fuck about the revive book, what about what I want?)

Silas becomes a pretty successful mercenary and proud vagrant, never staying in the same place for long. A bird free from his cage! He drinks as much as he wants, goes wherever he wants, and never has to recite 7 different dialects of a runic alphabet ever again.

Briar runs away from home when he is about 17. Silas is a few years younger than Briar, and runs away when he's 17/18, which would make Briar about 22.

Briar has gained notoriety in several counties. There's quite a price on his head. A famous thief with infamous aim. Silas aims to take this price for himself, and takes the bounty offer on Briar's head.

Briar outruns him for a long time, but Silas is patient. Silas tires him out until he makes a mistake, and not even perfect aim can save him when he's cornered in a cave. Briar is clever, though, and in an attempt to save his own life he tells Silas that he can pay back twice the amount the bounty office has offered him if Silas will just let him live. He'll give 70% of his own revenue to Silas until he can work off his own worth.

Silas is amused. More than amused, he's admiring his opponent! Briar's been more of an equal match. For what Silas lacks in his combat skills, Briar makes up for, and vice versa. He's smart, he's put up a good fight, he seems like an alright guy. So, Silas accepts his offer.

Briar and Silas are now a duo. Part of the deal is that Silas has to be in close proximity 24/7 (he even has Briar sign a contract! Honor bound! o7) and Silas is quickly enamored with him.

He likes Briar's mystery. He likes how fiery he is and how he complains about everything, and how he can shoot a bolt through someone's iris (bullseye!) a mile away. He's intrigued with how little he knows about him.

Briar fuckin' hates this guy. He's loud and stupid and drunk and has clipped his wings. Briar hasn't been around people in years. He hasn't entertained a real conversation since he told his mother goodbye. He doesn't remember how to do it... the whole friendship thing.

As time passes, they grow closer. Genuinely closer. Briar opens up little by little and his cold heart thaws against his will. Silas has a joke running about interest rates, adding on fees with every small slight. (You ate the last slice of bread. That's 50 more gold coins!) He doesn't want Briar to pay off his debt and split immediately. He likes him too much. And he thinks Briar needs someone to be around. He's not exactly... stable.

Briar doesn't want to lose him either. But he's absolutely scared to death of that. He knows what loss feels like. What is feels like to watch someone's back as they leave. (Silas has never known what it felt like to love in the first place.) Briar is torn between sinking his claws in or running away. He doesn't want to be vulnerable for someone again, but he doesn't know what he'd do if he lost this.

This isn't helped by Silas being obviously, stupidly, horribly in love with him. Briar might even love him back. But he knows what love does to people. He saw it kill his mother slowly. He's scared to death of it happening to him. He lashes out when he feels that warm bloom in his chest, but Silas never leaves. Briar doesn't want him to leave- god, god, please don't leave. Briar kind of wants to kill him sometimes just to make it all stop. He knows, whatever happens, that he will never marry.

Silas doesn't think there's a single thing Briar could do that would make him leave. They're in it together for the long haul, okay? Honor bound!

They don't really know what they are. Sometimes, Briar allows Silas to kiss him just to pretend he can love someone without it destroying him. He'll be mean, horribly mean, prickly, awful to him the next day. Go away, get away, get away. But Silas doesn't seem to mind.

Silas just genuinely loves him. Briar is so scared of becoming his mother that he tends to emulate his father instead. He's so angry, so hateful, and it's just because he's scared. Silas is covered in (metaphorical) scratch marks but still insists on holding his feral little fox. Like it can be domesticated.

(Foxes mate for life. Did you know that?)

Somehow in the chaos they meet a balance. They work together, sleep in the same bed, share nearly every waking moment together. They're not a couple in name, but Briar would sooner rip out his own eyes than see Silas stand near anyone else.

There's an unspoken plea. Please don't leave me. I know I'm cruel and angry and mean and more like a frightened animal than a real person but I need you to be with me. Even if I bite.

And Silas doesn't know how this is supposed to go, and he doesn't care. He has his person. He's going to stay with his little fox.

Briar lets himself stay in debt, but has the money to pay it all in his enderchest. More than enough to pay it, actually. In case he ever needs a quick out. He likes having contingency plans like that.

The original awesamdad has an end, one where Dream falls horribly ill, on deaths door, and Nettle (14) goes on a quest to find the brother she never knew so that mom can see him one more time. Briar comes home (Silas in toe. Obviously.) and Dream makes a recovery.

Some top tier bullshit happens afterward but this is already So long and also supposed to be about Silas. So I'm fuckin' cutting it here I have a fic I'm supposed to be writing!!

#silas #briar

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spadilled · 7 months ago

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get to know the author behind the blog hehehe

BASICS.

name: nev/nejvamin/nevward/nevington/whatever u want really age: 24 whole years old pronouns: they/he/she in that order of preference gfhjghjf years of writing: uhhhh since i was in primary school really so like. 18? years? oh god... that sounds like so many years wth

REFLECTION.

why did you pick up writing? i hate to say it but it was when i read the warrior cats books for the first time. i started writing my own bits and pieces surrounding my own warrior cats literally in bed at midnight in a tiny little like a6 notepad i'd been given for a birthday or something when i was six years old and it just snowballed from there. i found a warrior cats forum to rp on when i had my own pc and then i found my way to deviantART and all of the many rp groups on there! then it was tumblr and discord and the rest is history! i've been on tumblr for a While now (either unfortunately or fortunately depending on what way you look at it) and i've since had a Lot of thoughts about trying to write my own novel but i'm still debating on that with myself lmao do you have any writing routines? honestly? none at all. it all depends on whether i have the energy or thought process to get any words down. it's a lot harder at the moment with balancing my job and a horse but i'm hoping to get back into the swing of it sooner or later when my hours drop back down at work again! the most i do is i slap a playlist (or my current brainrot song) on and i pick threads at random depending on which ones i can think of a first sentence to reply with. what's your favorite part about writing? exploring characters and their actions. i really found my stride when i started writing more introspective responses to people. the idea of being able to get into a character's head and know what they're thinking (or not thinking) about is just something that i honestly can't get enough of. another thing though is the creation of a scene as a whole? i tend to 'see' the pieces i'm writing as movie scenes i'm directing, rather than a piece of writing. it makes life hard sometimes but it's just so fun to get to put what i'm seeing down on paper

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING.

i. oh jeez.... my dialogue? i like to think that the dialogue i use fits my character's voice as well as physically possible? i have pages and pages of dialogue written out for my ocs and otherwise as a fun writing exercise so i'd like to think i'm pretty good at it by now and changing it to suit what muse i'm writing. speech habits are a fascination of mine so i'd like to think that shows through in my writing ii. i try to match my style to whoever i'm writing with? if my writing partner uses more flowery language then i try to match them and vice versa. it's a good exercise for me specifically because i tend to fall into some repetitive habits so i do my best to avoid that iii. bruh this is so hard actually. i'd like to think that i'm quite good at describing emotions? i try to make them as visceral and physical as possible and i think it adds another layer to my characterisation when you can read about how they feel their grief or their joy

A QUESTION FOR THE NEXT PERSON.

what was the first character you ever picked up to start rping? why did you gravitate to them? qr/ow bra/n/wen. i always find myself drawn towards the characters that show their affection in different ways - the tough outer shell and the soft heart. qrow was and is still fascinating to me because he's been through so much in his life and he refuses to let it get in the way of how he treats his nieces and their friends. yeah, he's rough around the edges and comes across as gruff and rude but he genuinely and completely cares about the smiles on his kids faces and that's something i just can't get enough of in a muse. i love cracking open a character and exploring who they are beneath what they show the people around them QUESTION: what keeps you coming back to tumblr rp? what do you enjoy about writing with strangers/friends on the internet?

tagged by: @forbelobog THANK UUU tagging: @finalism, @reasoncore, @vulpesly, @wingspiked. @dreamweaved, @deathsmaidens, @dreamweaved, uhhh idk who has and who hasn't done this im sowwy lmao just steal it if u want to and say i tagged you!!

#ooc.#dash games.#this was fun actually #just the thing i needed to write after work and drink my tea before going to bed #thank u for tagging me my beloved #rw/by and warrior cats jumpscare

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years ago

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Lose me to Love you (Loki x Female Reader) (AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 8 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

Summary: You want him. Jolene wants him. It's a mess. What does he wants though?

Warning: 18+, Steamy stuff, Slight breath play if you blink, Rough language, mention of suicide, manipulative behaviour, mention of trauma, smut, toxic relationship between main characters. Dark themes, cult stuff.

You made your way out of the orphanage slowly, they told you he was waiting for you outside and you felt nervous, scared even. What was he like now? You have not seen him in eight years now, he told you that he'd come see you but they didn't allow him, they said it wasn't good for any of you, during the years you had feared he must have forgotten all about you, must have found someone maybe, you hated the thought of him belonging to someone else. As a child you didn't understand these feelings of possessiveness and the sense of belonging, but now you did. You just hoped he didn't hate you like everyone else hated you for ruining their lives.

As you reached closer you found a man leaning against the hood of his car, he was typing or texting someone on his phone, he had changed you could tell. He was more muscular now, his hair had gotten longer, he was adorning a black jacket with a pair of jeans, at the center he was mostly seen in a pair of plain white shirt and the matching set of pants, that was the dress code for the employees. As he looked at you his green eyes bored into your soul, he was so fucking hot now that you wanted to get burned by that heat almost instantly.

"Oh god" you muttered under your breath as you stepped closer.

"Hiiii" you smiled at him and suddenly felt too dorky, you felt so small as compared to him.

"Y/n" that was the one thing that had remained the same about him, his voice.

"Loki.. how are you?" You stuttered nervously so he tilted his head and looked you up and down. Then he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer until you were squashed into his rock solid chest. You were surprised but his touch brought back the memories of the times he had hugged you before, he often did it when you felt scared by daddy or the kids at the center bullied you, or everytime Odin creeped you out he immediately found you and hugged you, his scent and his embrace was the only thing that could made you feel safe.

"Thank you darling, thank you, I'll take care of you I promise" he whispered softly. Why did he thank you? You had no idea but as he cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead, you knew right then that your obsession with him wasn't going to end here, it was only going to intensify even more so now.

As your alarm rang you groaned internally, you hadn't slept that too well last night, how could you? He had his ex wife staying in his room. Even though he said he won't leave, you didn't actually believe him fully, you knew the power a woman's cunt held especially if it belonged to a woman he fell in love with once, even a psychopath like Odin was pussy whipped once, you remembered how thirsty he was for Sister Natasha.

After showering you put on an old t- shirt of his that you had stolen with a pair of shorts, you didn't have to work today but Loki had to do a photoshoot for a underwear clothing brand, quick money he said. As you stepped out you found him making breakfast, shirtless like the whore he was, his muscles seemed pumped as if he had worked out, you noticed a pillow and a duvet on the couch so that brought you some relief. Atleast they didn't fuck each other yet. You looked at Jolene and grimaced, she was sitting on the counter. That was your spot, how dare she?

"Good morning" you mumbled so they both looked at you in unison, you kept your eyes on him as you entered the kitchen space and walked towards the refrigerator to take out a bottle of water. But then you felt him grabbing your hand and walking you away, what did you do now?

He took you to the living room, not that she couldn't see or hear you both from there but you really wanted to see how you pissed him off this time.

"Are you okay?" He asked you softly as he cupped your cheeks, his eyes seemed..soft. You weren't expecting that first thing in the morning.

"I am .. okay..just wanted to say good morning" your eyes teared up, you didn't understand why or maybe you did, it was the way he was being so gentle with you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead, what was he doing now? Was he trying to manipulate you? Why? His softness had never lasted this long before.

"Making breakfast, want to make tea for us?" He asked you so you nodded.

"She's in my spot"

"I know, I'll look for a place for her, I promise"

You both made your way back to the kitchen and as you looked at her you smiled, she returned it but it didn't seem genuine, at least not to you.

"Sooooo.. Jolene Jolene Jolene, I guess we should know each other a little as well, Loki's ex wife is not much of an identity is it?" You smiled at her as you put the kettle on the stove, Loki glared at you, he was already so done with you you could tell.

"It is not.. you are absolutely right about that, I would also like to know you more than 'just that girl from the orphanage' " She smiled as she sipped on her orange juice like a slimy bitch, it was your turn to scowl, couldn't even blame her, you started it.

"Okay let's not make this weird alright? Can we all be civil?"

Loki turned around to look at her as he spoke and it hurt Jolene, you started it, why would he just direct his attention towards her? You nodded as he said that. "I have to be at the shoot in like one hour, you guys eat, I'll fix myself up" he said so you nodded again

"You're not going to eat Loki? Come on..dont do that" Jolene stepped down from the counter and walked closer to him but before he could answer for himself you chimed in,

"He can't eat Jolene, he has to be shirtless for the photoshoot, it will show, just basic pre shoot precaution you know" you smiled at her and she shook her head.

"Whatever she said, I'll be back" he got himself out of the awkward situation, leaving you two to deal with each other.

"No need to pretend I know you don't like me" you crossed your arms as you spoke to her so Jolene snickered, did she learn that from the master of snickering himself?

"Awhhh He was sooooo right about you, you are so childish at times, that's adorable. Tell me why won't I like you? " you glared at her as she said that.

"Because you think I stole your man?" She leaned against the counter as she hummed.

"You can't steal him y/n, you're just a responsibility, don't forget that he married me, he's not even yours if he's fucking other women now is he?" Wow they really talked huh.

"He doesn't have to fuck me to be mine" you smiled at her and she scoffed.

"You're so delusional you know and it's one of the reasons why you'll end up rightly where you belong" She gritted her teeth as she spoke, leaving you all confused by her words.

"What does that even mean?"

"You know what I mean, you need help don't you think? You're draining him with your needs, he needs to be set free, he wants to be free but he can't leave you because you're nothing but a helpless child that he has to take care of"

Your eyes teared up as she said that, you opened your mouth to retort but nothing came out so you turned around and left for your room.

Jolene- 1, You - 0

"Awesome y/n..you're such a loser" you mumbled to yourself as you thought about what she had said just now, she was just salty, you weren't a burden on him, he came for you, he promised to take care of you.

As Loki stepped out Jolene was pouring the tea in a cup for him,

"Where's y/n?" He asked her so she sighed,

"In her room, she left the tea unattended, I just wanted to serve the breakfast and she got upset for some reason" he scrunched his brows as she said that "Is she okay loki? She seems stressed" She asked him so he sighed.

"Of Course she's stressed with everything that has been going on, she has to work long hours too, it's not easy..just ignore her if she says something okay?" He asked her so she smiled at him.

"Ofcourse, can I come with you guys ?" She asked him so he smiled

"You'd be bored but sure if you want to"

"I always told you that you could be such a model" he chuckled as she said that

"I remember that..but I'm not a model darling, just doing it for money" he air quoted the term and it made her smile.

"I have missed that" he looked at her confused as she said that "You know..the sweet names"

He didn't know what to say, he didn't want to confuse her, he didn't want to lead her on either, but he was afraid that if she continued to be this way they'd get carried away and he'd end up hurting you, he did fall for her once and there was a time he wanted nothing more than to spend his whole life with her but that was before he met you again. He didn't have anything left to give her now, he once did and had regretted it every moment of his life since then.

"We should go"

"Yeah I'll just get my purse and be right back" as she left he quickly went to your room and knocked on your door so you yelled for him to come in, you had a summer dress in your hands that you were about to put on

"Just two minutes" you winked at him as he leaned against the door. His eyes raked up and down as you stood there just in your lingerie.

"Come here" he gestured with his fingers and like a puppy you couldn't help but hop towards him. As you reached closer he placed his fingers on your chin and made you look at him before he grabbed the dress and squatted down, then he parted the dress open so you could put your legs in one by one.

"Can you promise to behave? I don't want you to argue or fight with Jo"

"Why would I fight with her?" He stood up and pulled the straps of your dress over your arms, then he pulled you closer, his arms wrapped around you as he raised the zipper up with one hand while another one caressed your cheek,

"You know why sweetheart, just behave and we can cuddle tonight okay?" You bit on your lips as he said that, that was a tempting offer indeed.

"You promise?"

"I promise" he kissed your forehead and you couldn't help but moan slightly.

"That's my good girl"

An hour later he took you both to the studio, there was another model in a pair of flimsy lingerie sitting between his legs as they posed together, she was pretty of course, not your kind of pretty but definitely Jolene kind of pretty, you could see him flirting with her and you noticed how it bothered Jolene as well. Well you both had something in common atleast.

"He's gonna fuck her you know" you leaned onto the side of your chair so you could whisper and she heard you really well.

"Well..He's a free man..he can do whatever he wants" you smiled as she said that.

"Why did you break his heart?"

"It was mutual I would say, he wasn't ready to get into therapy"

"He doesn't need therapy" she chuckled as you said that

"Ohh you're an enabler aren't you? Let me get back to your question, if it wasn't for you, we would have been together, you kept coming between us"

"I wasn't even there, why are you blaming me for failing him?" You chuckled again and it made her upset "Ain't that the truth? If you really loved him you would have tried harder to keep him"

"You don't know shit so keep your mouth shut y/n, you're nothing but a curse of his life, live with that"

Your eyes teared up as she said that. You weren't a curse, he would never think of you like that.

Jolene -2, You- Still Fucking 0

For one of the pictures he had to lie down in the bathtub, as if half naked loki in his briefs wasn't killing you already, now he was drenched as well, he looked at Jolene so she smiled at him and he returned it but he looked away immediately. But when he looked at you, he maintained the eye contact for a little longer as if he was thinking what you were thinking, sometimes you felt as if indeed wanted to fuck you desperately.

After the shoot, Loki tried to call Steve but he didn't pick up, he was kind of pissed about the whole Jolene situation.

"Hey let's go to that restaurant we went to on our honeymoon..they had the best steak" Jolene said to him so he looked at her, he had almost forgotten about that, New York to LA was all he could afford at the time. You rolled your eyes in the backseat, she was doing this on purpose you could tell.

Your eyes met with Loki from the mirror view but you looked away, he told you to behave so for once you wanted to behave, you didn't want to prove her right by upsetting or insulting him in front of her.

"Drop me home, I'm not in the mood for a steak"

"You'll come with us alright?" Loki responded immediately

"Well if she doesn't want to come then–"

"She will. I'm not leaving her alone. Nobody knows where he is and I can't take more risks" Loki cut her off and that made you smile.

As you all reached the restaurant she sat next to him again like she did in the car, she acted as if she owned him still and you hated it. You excused yourself to use the loo, you just had to get away for a moment because you were so close to ripping her hair out of her skull. You were so lost in your thoughts that on the way you bumped into a man,

"Arghhh I'm sorry" you turned to look at him and he did the same, he had a mask on along with a cap, but you could see his eyes and his blonde hair, you recognised those eyes, they seemed familiar and then it hit you suddenly. He quickly ran out of the restaurant, Loki had his back towards you two so he couldn't see what had just happened, you didn't want to panic unnecessarily, it could be anybody, it can't be him. He can't be here right? You haven't heard about him since forever, he had disappeared and Loki never mentioned him either.

"This is nice" Jolene said to him so he smiled, he didn't know what to do in this situation. As you returned you seemed a little bit unnerved so he looked at you intently trying to figure out what was going on in your head. He made a mental note to ask you about it later.

When he took you both home you went straight to your room leaving them alone again, he told you that he won't leave you and you really wanted to believe him too but you still felt scared. Loki really wanted to find a safe place for Jolene and he was trying his best, he still didn't understand why she was there. If she regretted leaving him she was too late, he can't go back to that life again. He saw Jolene going to his room so he followed her and he found her sitting on the bed, she was crying so he sat down next to her

"Are you okay?" He asked her softly and she looked at him before she hugged him tightly.

"I'm sorry Loki, I'm sorry, I know I have hurt you and I have ruined us but ..oh god I miss you more than you can imagine"

He stayed still as she spoke, he was taken aback a little and her tight embrace did bring back those memories he had tried so hard to forget about. As he didn't respond to her hug she pulled away and cupped his cheeks, then she kissed him passionately.

"I never …stopped.. loving you.. baby" she whispered between the kisses and he couldn't help but return the kiss, he was doing what he feared he'd do. She took his jacket off slowly and her hands roamed inside his shirt then she climbed on top of him

"Stop jo..this isn't right" he mumbled but he made no effort to stop her, this is what got him into the mess the first time, her loving words and touches were what hooked him in, he never had that before she came along.

"I know you have missed me.. please Loki baby..we can fix this I promise"

He shook his head as she said that. She palmed the bulge in his pants and squeezed him slowly to rile him up further,

"Fuckk ..stop it please..I can't" he grabbed her hand but she didn't stop, she sucked on his neck slowly

"Why not huh? Because of her? She is the reason why you're still stuck in the past ..you need to let go..we can be so happy together like we used to be..I'll help you heal baby"

He glared at her as she said that. He picked her up and got her off him before he took several steps away from her

"Don't ever blame her again for my issues Jo" his words were harsh and that made her upset

"You never wanted to hear this but that's the truth" his eyes teared up as she said that.

"It's not. I was happy with you, you weren't happy with me..you left me, you broke me. I got too hard to love, isn't that what you said?"

She started to cry as he reminded her. He wasn't wrong but she had regretted that day, he was hard to love sometimes but when he wasn't both of them were so happy together that it was unreal.

"I'm sorry.. what do you want me to do, I'm ready to do whatever it will take..I just need one more chance" she got off the bed to get close to him so he stepped back again .

"I begged for a chance Jolene..I was on my knees asking you to not leave me.. and you still left, you never looked back.. I'm still the same, nothing has changed, remember how free you felt that day when you left? Keep that in mind alright? You do not miss me, you miss the man you think you could turn me into, But I'm not that man..I never was..and I could never be. I'll hurt you again, I'll make your life difficult like I did..you don't deserve that"

He grabbed his jacket and stormed out, he didn't want this, he wasn't good at this anymore, he didn't like feeling this type of pain, it made him feel so weak.

After an hour or so, Jolene came out and apologized to him again and then she told him that she was going to get out of his life, but he couldn't have that, not because he would miss her but because he knew she wouldn't be safe out there so he asked her to stay until he could find a safe place for her.

At night when you stepped out of the room you found them both chatting in the kitchen as they made dinner, that hurt you again, you felt as if you were intruding into their privacy even though it was the other way around.

"Come help us princess..what were you doing in your room all day?" Loki said to you so you rolled your eyes,

"Well I don't think you and your missus need any help whatsoever" he glared at you as you said that. You sat down on the couch and turned the tv on as you tried to ignore their presence, after dinner Jolene reluctantly went to sleep in his room and he sat down next to you on the couch so you looked at him

"Did you guys fuck or what?"

"Watch your mouth sweetheart"

"You know she has been such a bitch to me all day?"

"Is that why you seemed upset at the steak house?"

"No that's not–" you thought to tell him about the man but then decided against it "Well yess that's exactly why I was upset" he chuckled as you said that.

"What did she do, hmm?" He asked you as he got up and picked you up in his arms, you lost your train of thoughts immediately after that

"Ummm.. nothing important "

He took you to your room and laid you down on the bed, you watched him take his t-shirt off slowly, then his jeans came off, you couldn't keep your breathing calm as his toned muscular legs and abs flexed with every moment. He got under the duvet right next to you, you had a tshirt on so he pulled it over your neck but didn't take it off, he wrapped the shirt around your face and you gasped as you felt the fabric sticking to your skin,

"Did she hurt you?" He asked you softly, his thumb brushed over the curve of your bosom and it made you moan in response, all your sense were blocked, you couldn't see, you couldn't breathe properly either and that's what rushed the blood down to your nether region

"Am I a burden on you?" Your voice choked so he leaned down and kissed over your lips which made you moan again, he never would have done that if it wasn't for the layer of fabric seperating your skins

"Have I ever made you feel so?" He asked you, you could feel his hardening bulge between your legs and it made you want to hump him to Sunday.

"Nooo ...never.."

"Then you don't have to worry about that, you know you're my priority right?"

You hummed as he questioned you, your breathing went erratic so he pulled the shirt over your head finally, then he also lowered your shorts down the legs, you had the panties on thankfully.

Your arms wrapped around his waist as he dragged you closer to him, your bare skin touched with his and you couldn't stop yourself from moaning.

"Couldn't keep your eyes off me today huh? I was watching you " he whispered in your ear so you only scooted closer to him, your leg encased over his waist , there wasn't an inch of space left between your bodies

"Daddddy" the word came out barely as a whisper

"Shhhh it's okay.. get your sleep darling"

"Don't leave please "

"I won't I promise "

Your fingernails caressed the skin on his back and he hummed in response "By the way..to answer your question…I didn't fuck her..not going to either so stop thinking about that"

You smiled so wide as he whispered softly.

Jolene - 2 You - Fucking Infinite

....

As Jolene came out to talk to him again she didn't find him on the couch, her eyes welled up with tears of anger and frustration as she realised that he was sleeping with you. She immediately took out her phone and dialed a number, as soon as the person on the other side picked up she went off

"I'm here ..what am I supposed to do now, you said you'd help get rid of her, she's destroying him and I can't watch him fall deeper into this hole..do something for god's sake" the man on the other side chuckled as she said that.

"Patience dear, patience. I gave you my word, you must know that both of us brothers take pride in that, we keep our promises so just be patient and wait for my instructions. I'll call you, don't call me again" Thor smiled as he hung up. He couldn't wait to meet his brother again.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

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tiredf-o-u-r · 2 years ago

Text

Smoke Me Out, Please.

Sweet little one-shot where Shane and Male Farmer abuse substances and get together, my first post on ao3 OR read under the cut ;)

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Shane x Male Player

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Dubious (intoxicated) consent, alcohol, marijuana, accidental voyeurism, hooking up, frottage, oral sex, hopeful ending <3

Words: 8040

It started with a chance meeting on the pier. They went back to the farmhouse to continue the pity party.

They were sharing everything, Shane’s beers, the farmer’s weed, stories, memories, secrets, until they were sharing the couch, mouths intertwined. It was a shame, really. Shane had spent months burying his feelings for the farmer, no matter how small. He had put in so much work rejecting all his attempts at friendship, all to throw it away in one night.

He pulled back suddenly

“Ah, fuck!” Shane looked at his leg, where a lit piece of ash from the joint in the farmer's hand fell onto his bare leg.

“Shit…” the farmer ashes it properly, then puts it to his mouth again. Shane looked up at him, slightly annoyed, and matched his action by finishing the last swig of his beer. He leaned back on his hands and tipped his head back, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his hair out, sighing through his nose. When he dropped his gaze back to the farmer, even through how buzzed he was, he felt a pang in his heart, like he was crossing a moral line. If only it wasn’t so fun.

“How old dya say again?”

“…23”

Another sigh…

“God, if you’re getting this bent over a few years maybe you really are an old man. It’s not so bad.” The farmer said, amusing himself. Shane just scoffed.

“A few….a dozen….barely a difference at all, huh?”

The farmer took another puff of the joint and put it down so he could start crawling on top of Shane. He let his legs stay open, the farmer filling the space slowly until they were face to face.

“Don’t you want me?”

Shane’s eyes ran all over his face, and he swallowed. Caught out.

“Then what’s the issue…”

The farmer leaned up then, connecting their lips again. Shane leaned on the back of the couch, holding the farmer's face in his hands now and tilting his head to taste him from every direction. The farmer gave it right back, trying his damnedest to run his tongue all around Shane’s teeth, when he wasn’t pliantly accepting Shane’s sloppy, urgent kiss.

“Fuck, Shane…wanna touch you…”

The farmer said, when they pulled back for air. He was grabbing himself, clearly hard. Shane mimicked the move, slowly moving his hand to himself, to find that he was also hard. His eyes shut, lips parting as he gasped. Shane looked back up at his face, still trying to catch his breath from the suffocating kiss.

“I…you…” His hazy eyes flicked between the farmer’s. He looked cocky. It made Shane feel small, here on his couch, in his house, underneath him and completely at his mercy. It was a feeling Shane hated. Being treated like the little man. What he didn’t know was how much the farmer enjoyed it when he told him off. It made winning him over all the sweeter.

“Get the fuck on with it then.”

The farmer wasted no time throwing a leg over Shane’s, so they were basically scissoring, but it got the job done well enough; their clothed boners made contact. He let out an open mouthed moan out right against Shane’s mouth, and started grinding against him hard. The smell of beer on his breath made Shane groan and shove his tongue back in his mouth to get a taste. It was like all his vices were wrapped up in one perfect beauty, begging to have him. He let Shane suck on his tongue, only able to focus on the motion of his hips.

“Gaaaahhhuhhhhh… Shhaanne…don’t make me wait anymore…” the farmer slurred, sticking a hand down his pants to touch himself. Shane enjoyed the show for a moment: the farmer with his eyes closed, breathing hard, hand moving sharply under his pants, sweat pouring from his hairline. Shane sat up, holding the farmers face still with one hand, and licked from his jaw up the side of the farmers face and across his temple, licking his lips after to savor the salty taste. The farmer groaned in disgust, but cut himself short as he was being moved back by Shane’s hands on his hips. Then he was slipping his shirt over his head and laying him back on his back, the sleepy look on his face making Shane hesitate, realizing just how much drunker than himself he was. Shane looked over to the table, and plucked the joint up, puffing on it while he sat back on his knees. He slipped his hoodie off, and started unbuttoning his polo, looking over the farmer’s shirtless body as he took the last few hits off the spliff. It’s not…wrong…if they’re both fucked up, right?

The farmer let his eyelids hang heavy over his blown out irises. He was smirking as he watched Shane loom over him, checking him out and grabbing himself while he smoked. The farmer reached out his hand to stroke Shane’s arm, admiring the muscles he so rarely gets to see.

Shane flicked the rest of the joint away, and moved to continue undressing the farmer. He let him, and even got Shane to remove everything, thanks to the high in his head and dick overpowering his self-consciousness. Once that was done, Shane crawled over him, pushing their dicks together and resting his body weight into it, making them groan in unison at the heavy contact. Shane had his hands planted on either side of the farmer’s head, with the farmer’s fingers delicately holding onto his wrist. He rubbed his hips in a circle, gasping again, and looked down at what he was doing. He had expected something different from being with a man for the first time, but even while watching how his partner’s foreskin stroked over his dick at Shane’s motions, he couldn’t distinguish what was so different between the feeling of his soft skin or a woman’s as long as it was pleasing his dick. The farmer’s increasingly higher pitched noises helped him along. Shane looked back to his face to see it tipped back, sticking his jaw out and exposing his neck completely. Shane dropped to balance on his elbows now, thrusts becoming shorter and faster as he attached his mouth to the farmer’s neck mercilessly. He gasped out suddenly, and his arms flew to grasp at Shane’s back, nails digging into his back; holding on for the ride. Shane was sloppily running his mouth across the farmer’s neck, slobbering all over him and administering pinching bites randomly, drawing out whiny “ah“‘s from the farmer each time. Then Shane was moving down, attaching his lips and teeth to one spot just below the farmer’s collarbone, already bruising the thin skin. The farmer was panting hard and sweating harder, his dick losing contact with Shane’s as he moved down. He continued to grind their bodies together, feeling his insides flip even through the euphoric haze at the feeling of Shane’s hard, leaking dick rubbing against and in between his thighs. His own cock was pressed between them, rubbing against Shane’s soft belly, where the fat there was lovingly molding to the shape of it. His body hair added an interesting texture, something that made the farmer feel hot all over and finally lose patience. He put his hands on Shane’s shoulders and shoved him back, hard. Shane couldn’t help but let his absolute shock play out on his drunken face. Not only at the amount of audacity, but also strength needed for that demonstration; something Shane did not expect from this tryst.

“Fuck, enough, please, just…just come here…” the farmer pulled Shane up with his hands on his ass to align their dicks again. He spit into his hand, and held their dicks together in it, squeezing and then stroking, moaning loud in relief, shamelessly letting his eyes roll back. Shane had his hands pressing into couch again, holding himself up while he straddled the farmer. His mouth was wide open, panting and gasping as their arousals combined. The farmer threw his head to the side, chanting curses as he moved his hand faster and faster. Shane rested his forehead on the farmer’s head, panting right into his ear, and started to tremble.

“Th that’s it…just ah fuck that’s it…”

“Please…please…fuck…”

He started twisting his wrist more and more violently, until Shane cried out, hips twitching forward and muscles clenching as he shot ropes all over them. He kept moaning, getting quieter and weaker as he kept thrusting against his hand though his release. The edge of Shane’s shaking body, wetness from his release, and throbbing dick still pressed against his own brought the farmer to his end, all but growling out a dirty “fuuuuuuck, Shane.” He grunted as Shane finally went completely limp on top of him, head resting next to his. They stayed like that as they drifted off, unwanting and unwilling to break the dreamy atmosphere they created.

When the farmer woke up in his bedroom, the first thing he registered was the throbbing pain in his head. Then the late morning sun rays warming his face - something he’s never slept in late enough to see. Finally, he rolls onto his back, eyes still closed, and realizes he is sharing the bed with someone. Shit….was only a matter of time….please don’t be someone in this god forsaken town… He worked up the courage to face the person he had forgotten spending the entire night with, taking in the dark raven hair on the back of the man’s head. Did it have a purple tint to it? Shane.

He inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. Fuck. It just had to be the one person he liked in this town, didn’t it? The farmer whispered,

“Are you awake?”

“…a bit”

The farmer sighed again. He couldn’t place how he was feeling about it all, but he had no intention of touching that now. There was really only one thing he wanted to do before he could decide anything else for the day.

“Sorry…I uh, gotta get up…”

He was getting out of bed, being sure to put the blanket back over Shane’s shirtless body, and started looking around the clothes on his floor for something to wear. Shane sat up on his side, still horizontal, eyes barely open, squinting at the farmers scurrying.

“What’s wrong?”

“Whatddya mean?”

“…sorry to keep you in so late…”

“No! No it’s…it was…I just have to get the daily chores done is all…”

Shane was sitting up more now, surprisingly alert all of a sudden, at the farmers apparent nervousness.

“I could help with the animals- I wouldn’t mind and it’s my f-“

“No, no, it’s…I was gonna do something else first, honestly.” The farmer rubbed the back of his neck, deciding that in his tired state he couldn’t keep up lying much longer- not to him. Shane was looking up at him in confusion, waiting for him to continue. The farmer sighed.

“Meet me outside if you wanna know.”

And he left the room. Shane flopped back down, trying to decode what the hell that meant. His head was beginning to throb; a near daily occurrence these days. It was making it harder for him to think about what the farmer's demeanor could mean. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and scanning the room for any clothes that were his. There were a lot of clothes around…and ashtrays.

When he got himself together and entered the front room, he noticed the front door was left open. He braced himself, and left the house, squinting at the harsh sunlight that hit his face. He started to smell cigarettes, so he followed his nose around to the small patio on the edge of the farm, by the fence. The farmer was there, sat down and leaning against the fence post, lit ciggy between his fingers. He flashed a sad sort of smile at Shane.

“Hey…uh…what’s up?” He said, trying to stay casual. He sat down in the grass, just in front of the small paved patch the farmer sat on. His gaze was cast down, his arms were wrapped around his stomach. “You doin alright…?” In all honesty, Shane was terrified of the answer the second he asked the question.

“I’m okay…this is just normal actually, heh…”

“…oh..?”

“I’m just really sick in the morning these days…” he was putting out his cigarette. Shane was watching the action, and couldn’t help but be reminded of how he felt in the mornings, even right now: like he could go for a drink.

Then the farmer was reaching behind one of the planter pots next to him, pulling out what looked like a yard decoration…or…a vase? Then he was pressing his mouth to the opening, and fiddling with something that was facing him. Shane could hear the lighter click, and some more noise until the farmer lifted his head, blowing smoke away from them.

Oh.

The farmer sighed, and took another deep drag, coughing hard after that one. Something about the bags under his eyes, the practiced ease in his actions, and the cough wracking his skinny body made Shane think that this has been going on long before last night. Then he considered the look on Marnie’s face when she sees him go into his room with another six pack for the night. He didn’t want to cause the farmer that kind of guilt - like someone was watching him take another step on his downward trek, unwilling to offer anything other than a helpless audience to their misery.

“Last night was uh..it was good for me, thank you for that…” The farmer started, carefully eyeing Shane’s face to gauge his reaction.

“Oh, uh, yeah…I…was starting to worry that I shouldn’t have let that happen…but um…I don’t regret it, only as long as you don’t…”

“I don’t regret it.”

“Alright then.”

Shane leaned back a bit, gazing over the property wistfully. Some part of his brain, however, was insisting that not only is it unlikely that this situation isn’t fucked, but also that it would of course be too good to be true. Someone he could talk with, drink with, and sleep with? That simply wasn’t Shane’s luck. He swallowed, looking down, deciding he needed to at least try to make sure.

“You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t mean it, would you? Because I wouldn’t blame you, really, and I wouldn’t tell a soul.” His stomach flipped shamefully, thinking about the farmer’s good reputation, and how badly he doesn’t want to fuck that up for him.

“…No, I don’t think I would. ‘M pretty sure I mean it.”

Shane considered his answer as he watched him take another hit. He coughed sympathetically, remembering the abuse his own lungs went through last night.

“Man…not feeling so great today either…buh…” Shane let his head hang, fingers coming up to rub his temples. When the farmer finished exhaling, he decided to offer his new friend the only coping mechanism he knew how to use.

When Shane looked up, the farmer had come closer to him, sitting right in front of him now, also on the grass. He was holding out his bong for Shane to take. He grabbed it, keeping the neck in his hand but resting the bottom on the ground; genuinely taking the object out of his friend's hand on instinct. It was rather heavy, and his arm immediately dropped when Shane relieved it. He just looked at the multicolored glass bong that was tilted up facing him, considering the offer. He bit the inside of his cheek, debating himself in his head. But when it really came down to it, all Shane’s degenerate brain could consider were two possibilities: leave, and drink alone until it’s time for work; or stay here, with the farmer, smoke his weed, and see where it takes him. He looked up at the farmer again. His eyes looked sleepy again, inviting. He wanted to meet him there.

“Gimme a light then.”

He scooted forward, closer to the farmer, hand high up on the neck of the bong, and watched him reach his arm out again to relight it for him. He lifted the bowl and Shane inhaled hard. The farmer enjoyed seeing Shane bent over holding something so lewdly shaped up to his mouth right over him like this; with the way his eyes were squeezed shut. He coughed out his exhale hard, making the farmer finally crack a grin. Sure Shane could outdrink him, but this was farmer’s territory. He lifted the still-lit bowl again, and Shane followed cue and took another hit, and tried to stifle another embarrassing cough. The farmer brought it to his own mouth then, taking a deep hit and exhaling to the side, watching as Shane sat back up, having caught his breath.

They look at each other hornily. The farmer’s eyes dragged across Shane’s body, lingering around the parts that felt the best under his hands. When his gaze reached his handsome face, he realized Shane was doing the same until they made eye contact. He looked back at the bong.

One hit left.

“Bout enough left for one more…want it?” The farmer offered. The relaxed timbre of his voice made it come out so effortlessly.

Shane relented, against his better judgment, and went to take the bong from the farmer's hand. Except, the farmer tugged it out of his grasp, and motioned for Shane to lean in even closer to him so he could inhale while the farmer held it for him. He was smiling easily: looking a little more comfortable in his own body now that he was under the influence. It made Shane feel something he didn’t want to touch, so against even his better judgment, Shane leaned in to take another bong rip. When his lips aligned with the hole, the farmer slid his hand up to hold the neck higher, finger now gently touching Shane’s unshaven chin. It made Shane instinctively inhale a bit, so he started sucking up the last of the smoke, eyebrows knitting together.

The look ignited the inevitable swell of arousal that the farmer always seems to experience no matter what kind of weed he smokes. He wanted to tell him to look him in the eye while he inhaled like that, just to see it, but the thought was cut short when he felt Shane balance himself against him with his hands on his knees, as he detached his mouth to fully inhale. Then the farmer was letting the bong tip over on the grass next to them, grabbing Shane’s chin and swiftly leaning in to kiss him. When he leaned back, he kept holding Shane’s face close to his like that while he exhaled the cloud of smoke. The farmer opened his mouth and inhaled it straight out of Shane’s mouth, other hand steadying him by the back of his neck now. He sucked Shane’s smoke into his lungs and blew out a substantially weaker cloud away from them.

Shane felt like he had been transported to a different time. A time in his life when he was brave, and alive, and daring, like the man who just pulled that move on him. Luckily, the thc flooding his brain spurred on how hard he was for the farmer in that moment, along with granting him some of his bravery.

The farmer leaned back on his palms to exhale, and take in Shane’s reaction. His mouth was hanging open in awe, hazy eyes locked on the farmer’s mouth, allowing them a moment to catch a good breath before Shane was pinning him to the ground, kissing him ravenously now.

Sighing happily through his nose, the blissed out farmer received Shane’s kisses as best as he could, until his kisses moved from his mouth to his lips to all around his face until he was more or less rubbing his warm, prickly face against his like a cat.

“Mmn~ gonna give me a rug burn?”

Shane pulled back, looking over the farmer's flushed face through his heavy eyelids. The corners of his vision were starting to get hazy, like his partner was the only thing his body could perceive. Through his tunnel vision was the farmer, face framed with the grass he was laying in. Truly a daydream of some upstanding citizen that Shane must have stumbled into. He leaned in, running his lips along his neck, beard still rubbing along the way.

“Something like that…”

Then he was kissing and biting, careless of what may leave a mark, drawing out lovely noises of pleasure from the farmer. It wasn’t long before they were interrupted, however, by a sound from behind them: someone clearing their throat.

“Ahem. Hey boys! Sorry to interrupt…”

A bright voice was cutting through their shared buzz, Robin. She was making eye contact with the farmer when he opened his eyes. Shane’s blood ran cold when he realized they were being caught.

“…but uh…but I just wanted to give you this! I ordered a few too many and wanted to drop it off so…I’ll just leave it here then.” Shane saw her placing the package on the deck as he rolled off the farmer.

“Oh…thanks Robin, that’s so kind.”

The slow cadence of the farmer's voice made Shane think he wasn’t too worried about it. Right now, at least. Robin assured him it was no problem, voice trailing off near the end of the sentence as her eyes caught the bong next to them. Fuck. Shane knew she had an aversion to her sons cigarette smoking, and his partying, so he could only imagine the conclusions she was drawing now as her eyes went between the bong, the red patches around the farmers lips and neck, and finally landing her eyes on him. Her tone changed.

“Hi, Shane. It’s uh…nice to see you’ve made a friend now. Don’t uh…don’t tire him out! Hah…” Robin rubbed the back of her neck and looked away, trying to play off her awkwardness. But something about the new farmer in town reminded her of her own troubled son, so he was now subjected to her mom instincts, however unsure they often were.

“Yeahhh…is that right Shane? ‘M I your special friend?” The farmer was wearing an easy smile, reaching out and petting Shane’s hair. He looked back in absolute shock, unsure at what the farmer could possibly be trying to achieve by this. He fell back on the only defense he had at his fingertips. He flicked the farmers hand away, and huffed, putting on an annoyed voice,

“Yeah yeah whatever. This kid won’t leave me aLONE, Rob, I swear, heh.” He said to Robin, gesturing back toward the farmer. He just smiled harder, and moved to straddle Shane’s leg and hugged him, making them both topple over on the grass.

“You have a lot of special friends, Shane?” He said into his neck, warm breath hitting Shane’s skin as the farmer started rubbing the tip of his nose against his neck to make Shane gasp. It felt like the blood in his veins had been replaced with fire, cold and hot at the same time from not wanting to embarrass them both in front of someone, and much more importantly, express a genuine emotion in front of a live witness.

“Ngh! Stop! Hhhh ‘s not…funny…”

His annoyance made the farmer giggle, the extra breaths only making Shane squirm more. He was sure Robin must be horrified by seeing this tender display, this boy climbing all over him to cuddle like a puppy.

“Right then…I’ll just leave you to it then…” Robin was slowly backing away, not exactly not horrified, but only out of surprise. Maybe Shane had more heart in him than she ever gave him credit for. And that farmer…I just hope they’re okay…

“UGH. What’d you do THAT for, then?!”

Shane was still laying back on the grass, covering his eyes with his palms now; the farmer rolling off and laying next to him normally again once Robin left.

“Mmm?” He shrugged, looking up at Shane. He shot him a pissed look, as if to say, “the fuck does that mean?” The farmer rolled his eyes. It all made sense to him, and he knew it would to Shane too if he could read his mind. He was just too tangled up inside to figure out how to articulate it right now. He just sighed and got up, walking a short distance and looking in one of his chests before walking back. Shane could hear water sloshing in whatever he was carrying, but didn’t look, keeping his head flat on the ground and aimlessly staring at the sky stubbornly. Until the farmer came into his view, towering above him. He dropped something on the ground, leaning against Shane, and sat down next to him again. Shane raised his head to see the farmer filling the bong with water from his watering can, and repacking a bowl. Then he saw what the farmer left: a bottle of wine. He scoffed, but immediately sat up again.

His leg started bouncing. An obvious tell, but he let himself have it as he considered the farmer’s offer yet again. He was trying to be offended. What, you trying to get me drunk again? I really shouldn’t…I still have work…and I’m already so… the farmer was blowing smoke out, and rested his head back against the fence post again, hand resting on his crotch, drawing Shane’s gaze there. It became impossible for him to not stroke the wine bottle in his hand ever so slightly, not even realizing it.

“Just thought it might make you feel better…’m not trying to trick you or anything.”

The farmer mumbled after a few more moments of Shane just staring at it. He felt a small jolt of excitement when he heard him pop the cork and take a swig. Soon Shane was sitting with his back on the farmhouse, leaning in for the farmer to give him another hit from his bong. Shane willingly accepted the kiss/inhale trick when the farmer pulled it again, leaning back and kissing him back slow and deep. Then his hand was holding the back of the farmer's head, keeping their mouths pressed together, while the farmer got as close as possible on his hands and knees.

“D'ya wanna…?”

“Mhm…”

“Kay…” Shane tried to pull them both up to go inside, but the farmer stayed on top of him, yanking at his arm close to keep them there.

“Here?”

A cheeky grin and a nod.

“We can’t do it here…”

“Why not?”

Shane pulled back farther, looking at him confused again.

“You really have a short memory span, don’t you?”

“Do you think she’d come back here unannounced after seeing that? I thought she would THROW UP. Hopefully just everyone knowing you’re here’ll be enough for them to leave us alone…” The farmer said, and moved in to kiss Shane’s neck, which succeeded in his goal of distracting him from being offended, if only slightly.

“Uhgh! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You know…”

Shane couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy. And although he purposefully let out an “ah~” to show his approval when he felt the farmer's teeth graze against a pulse point on his neck, he was still resolved to fight his corner. With his hands on the farmer's shoulders, he peeled him off and held him back like their bodies might snap back together like magnets. The farmer wrapped his fingers gently around Shane’s arms which were locked straight, feeling like he was flirting with danger as he stroked Shane’s flexing muscles. His hoodie had been long discarded in the spring heat they were lounging in, displaying Shane’s strong masculine arms again.

“So I’m just that disgusting then, huh? You want me to guard the gate to keep the goodies away and then fuck me when you’re drunk and horny?”

“God Shane just……just stop worrying, ok? I’m not worried about it, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“About what?”

“Whatever the hell you’re worrying about!! It’s fine, Shane, and I don’t see you like that. I’m showing you how I feel. We don’t need to worry about anyone else…okay? You want it and I want it, and it doesn’t affect anyone else, so if we’re only hurting ourselves, then what’s the harm, right? You too good for that now?”

The last question stung enough to make Shane pause, just staring at the farmer’s face trying to force the words through his unwilling brain. The farmer reached his hand out, petting his hair like he did before. Shane’s eyes softened. The accusation made him feel sad, and he let his tired eyes close at the gentle touch. He was tired of holding them in focus, tired of holding himself accountable, tired of everything.

“Don’t wanna hurt you…”

“You won’t…”

“I have…”

“…I don’t care…I just want you…”

The farmer finally succeeded in bringing their mouths back together, so he did his best to put his heart into it. Accommodating Shane’s motions when he kissed back, licking his lips, the high in his head reconnecting with the pleasure in his stomach when he felt Shane’s tongue against his. Shane’s mind was still in a dark swirling storm, but he couldn’t help how his body naturally accepted the farmer’s words, relaxing into his embrace. It felt so right, and he did crave him so badly… He pulled back with a ridiculous smacking sound to speak.

“I wanna make it up to you…”

The farmer’s eyebrow quirked up.

“Yeah? And how do you wanna do that?”

“Whatever you want. I’d do anything…”

Shane’s heart pounded at his final confession. The thought started out innocent, but by the time it left Shane’s mouth was dripping in insinuation. Not to say he didn’t mean it - once the flirtation left his mouth, he felt his mouth water at the ideas that filled his mind.

“Yeah? Anything?”

Shane nodded, and placed another light kiss on his lips.

“Anything.”

The farmer grabbed himself through his pants, saying, “I have a few ideas” and stood suddenly, placing a hand on Shane’s head to keep him trapped against the wall. He groaned in response and looked up while he shifted from sitting to kneeling, back now bending at an uncomfortable angle to keep his head pressed to the wall, now in between the farmer’s legs. Shane’s head was spinning with excitement but he accepted the challenge, however out of his depth he might be. The farmer put his clothed bulge on Shane’s face, rubbing back and forth in response to the way Shane moaned and nuzzled against him obediently. Shane’s face started burning with embarrassment, and he wished he was a lot more drunk than he currently was. He was really gonna remember this. Shane had one hand braced on the farmer’s thigh, and the other one palming himself as he let the farmer keep grinding his face. It was getting hard to breathe with how he was pressing the side of his cock hard on his mouth, and Shane started to hope the farmer didn’t expect too much of him as he gasped for breath in between thrusts. He gave him some space to breathe when Shane put both hands on his thighs and pushed him away, sucking in a lungful of air.

“Fuck…that, that was too much…”

“That was so hot…” The farmer took a few steps back to give Shane some space, and took his cock out to start jerking it to full attention. “I’ll go slow…”

“Uh, yeah you will.”

The farmer bit his lip, trying to conceal how excited he was that Shane was still willing, thinking he may have gone too far letting himself lose control like that. Shane had his hand under his pants once he was steady, looking at the farmer pump himself as he did the same. It was working for him; and he did want to try it, he was just wholly unsure if he would be able to please him how he needed, being so inexperienced in sucking dick. The thought of how he already almost suffocated on it before he was even out made Shane have to remove his hand from himself to not start jerking at full force.

“Fuck man, I…I don’t know if I can do this-”

“Shhhh yes you can…”

The farmer cooed, stepping forward and placing his thumb against Shane’s lips until he opened his mouth, accepting the tip of the digit inside.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you can do it…”

“No, I just mean… ‘nother drink might help…”

Shane’s eyes sparkled up at him as he spoke, eager to please, even going back to sucking on his thumb after he spoke. He felt cheap asking for it on his knees in front of this man, but hey, if the ends justify the means…The farmer scoffed in amazement.

“Yeah…yeah…just try to relax, that’ll help.”

He backed up again to allow them some space, patting the various pockets on his body until it hit the pocket on his chest. He pulled out something thin and white. He stuck it in his mouth and lit the end with a lighter, inhaling and exhaling a puff of smoke. Oh. He leaned down to place the joint in Shane’s mouth for him before he walked off to rummage through more chests. When he returned, he swapped the joint for another bottle, handing it to Shane and taking a hit.

They lost track of time between then and when the farmer found himself lying flat on his front, hands around Shane, leaning up to kiss him. Their shared buzz had blossomed into a thick high. The skin under their clothes where they were pressed together was getting sticky and damp as the morning turned to noon. They broke for air, and Shane leaned his head back on the farmhouse wall again, groaning when he felt the farmer slide down and rest his head directly on Shane’s dick. With the full weight of his head resting on it, he nuzzled his head, then turned to start pressing his lips and nose against his bulge.

“Hhhh-Hah…that’s….”

“Yeahhh…”

The farmer drew out the last word, blowing out as much hot breath over his thin gym shorts as he could. It made Shane’s stomach muscles flex hard, making him sit up more, looking down with his mouth open, eyes red and heavily lidded.

“Fuck, dude…”

“Yeah? You want it?”

“Yeahhh~”

The farmer kissed him again, licking into his mouth however he pleased, Shane’s tongue struggling to keep up until he pulled back enough to speak. “Lemme suck you off…then I’ll take that apology. How ‘bout that?”

“Mhm~” Shane moaned out, nodding enthusiastically.

The farmer slid his hand up to grab Shane’s dick.

“Get it out.”

Shane scrambled for his waistband, pulling down his shorts enough for his dick to pop out. He braced his hands on the ground, gripping the grass between his fingers. He could feel the blades of grass on his bare ass as well, prickly and a bit uncomfortable, but it reminded him of where they were and just how exposed he was in this moment, how willing he was to push his own limits and try something new for the farmer’s sake, but he let himself blame the substances clouding his brain for that. The farmer placed his hands on Shane’s bare thighs, leaned down and put his mouth on Shane’s cock, appreciating how his entire body jolted up a little in time with his desperate groan. He rubbed it with his parted lips up and down, then wrapped his lips around it and took the head onto his tongue. He ran his tongue all around the head, leaned back to spit on it, then took him deep enough to make himself gag. He came up gasping and put his hand on Shane, stroking his spit up and down his length. He looked back up to see Shane absolutely enthralled, looking down at him like he was inventing air. It made the farmer smirk hard, feeling cocky as all hell now, and put his mouth back on the tip as he stroked it. That’s right, chicken man, let me show you how it’s done in the big city…

“Gahhhh…God that’s so good…I can’t…”

The farmer moaned around the head, and continued stroking when he pulled back for some more air. Licking his lips, he dipped his head and poked at Shane’s balls with his tongue, giving in to every dirty urge he got. Shane moaned out a curse, and the farmer could hear blades of grass being ripped from the ground, predictably caught in Shane’s clenching fists. Despite the distinct sweaty smell and hair getting in his mouth, the farmer kept going, pulling his balls into his mouth and sucking, the surprised sound of pleasure from Shane making it all worth it. Pleased, the farmer started making a “mmm” sound around the balls in his mouth, the vibration overwhelming Shane and prompting him to shove the farmer back by his shoulders, then grab the back of his head when he still brought his face back to where his hand never let go of Shane’s hot cock.

The farmer situated himself over Shane’s lap again so he could lick the tip while he finished him off. He let it twirl around the head, and tried to make eye contact while he did it, but his eyes kept fluttering shut each time he swallowed. Shane was blown away, nearing his limit, and unable to tear his eyes away from the farmer’s sloppy performance. It was perfect. Had he not felt utterly helpless, he may have used the hand gripping the farmer’s head to push him down further, enough to satisfy him, but the slow build from the farmer’s unpracticed teasing had Shane teetering right on the edge, face scrunching like he was about to sneeze.

Then the farmer was coughing as wetness hit the back of his throat, shutting his eyes hard and keeping his lips sealed around the head as he kept stroking him. He swallowed rapidly and squeezed the pulsing vein under his thumb when he felt it twitch rapidly as Shane finished in his mouth. He was moaning unabashedly in time with his ragged breaths, then couldn’t help turning to higher pitched whining when he felt the farmer’s satisfied “mmmmmmmph~” sound as he slowly pulled off. He stroked some of the wetness off and wiped his hand on the grass before sitting back, rubbing the back of his neck that was beginning to get sore, and let out a dramatic

“aaaahhhhhh~ that was nice~”

When he looked back at Shane’s reaction, he was once again filled with bone-headed confidence when he saw Shane’s wrecked condition. Looking blazed out of his mind, sweat was glistening all over him, pretty mouth still open and panting. He pulled his shorts back up and sat up straighter against the wall.

“That was… fuck that was good. I don’t know if I can do all that for you…”

The farmer took his cue to stand up again, cradling the back of Shane’s head to guide it to rest against the wall as he stood over him again. Shane looked dizzy with affection from where he was, hands grasping the farmer's legs again as he rose to his knees to get face-level with his crotch. Still dying to give the farmer his very best, then they’ll be even. Yeah, that’s what it’s about…just paying a guy back…

“Don’t worry…just let me do the work, yeah?”

He had one hand working on freeing his own cock and placed the other on Shane’s face, hissing out “thaaaaaats it…” when Shane happily began sucking on the thumb the farmer had placed on his bottom lip. His eyes were shut, more of a reflex from trying to focus on his partner through the tornado in his mind, but also making it a surprise when he felt the farmers spongey tip against his face. Luckily Shane was loaded enough that his burning embarrassment easily turned pleasurable again, though he feared that he would still be remembering this quite clearly in the future.

The farmer moved to brace his hand against the wall, swiping his cock against Shane’s open mouth. The feeling of his hot wet tongue between the feeling of his coarse stubble against the farmer’s sensitive dick had him clenching his teeth and cursing. He swiped it across Shane’s face like that a bit more, making it a wet mess, reveling in the scratchy feeling.

“Okay…here…just stay like this…”

The farmer adjusted Shane’s mouth open so he could freely slide his dick in and out, rubbing against the inside of his cheek. Shane allowed it, eyes still shut, and did his best to keep his lips around him. He put his arms down, bracing them against his own legs, unknowingly performing a personal favorite for the farmer: no hands. He moaned loudly in appreciation, getting goosebumps when he heard his voice echo across his property. He threaded both hands around Shane’s head gently, and let his hips do the work, so the head was making Shane’s cheek stick out lewdly. The obedient display made the farmer wonder if Shane was unfairly drunker than he was, despite being so blazed himself that his mouth was now painfully dry. That, or the man beneath him was also genuinely getting off on letting the farmer fuck his mouth however he wanted for the very first time. The farmer put his faith in the latter and kept going, thrusting in and out at a steady pace.

“Hhhhhoh my god Shane…you’re doing so good, baby….” The farmer moaned out. “Just…stay just like that for me, yeah?”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from where Shane’s lips were stretching wide around him. He kept making noises, little moans and groans of surprise coming from his throat as the farmer moved his cock around inside his mouth. The head was making his cheek poke out each time he went as deep as he could, and the farmer was impressed with how far Shane was taking him. His eyes were squeezing tighter with each thrust, focusing on keeping his lips tight over the ridge of his tip as it fucked his mouth. The farmer was captivated by the sight, moving a hand to cup Shane’s cheek, a rather sweet display, even if it was only to feel his dick through Shane’s skin. He opened his eyes in response, looking up, and unintentionally made a desperate noise to match his desperate eyes.

“Oh, fuck, Shane, ‘s perfect, I’m, fuck,”

Shane squeezed his eyes shut, reinvigorated and refocused now that he sees the end’s in sight. He was determined to make up for his social blunders up to this point, then him and the farmer would be even. As if the farmer was ever offended in the first place. No matter if he was up or down, he wanted Shane, and he knew Shane wanted him too, at least like this. So he’d take him like this, if that’s what he could get.

Shane took a deep breath through his nose, and started adding his tongue into the mix, running it across his shaft as it pumped in and out of his mouth. The farmer moaned out loud when he felt it, then full on shouted Shane’s name, followed by a whiny moan when he started sucking too. It echoed for several seconds, loud enough that if there was anyone on the paths leading to the farm, they would be well aware of what they were getting up to. Shane moaned in response, and used his hand to start jerking the farmer into his mouth, sucking on the tip now. He felt a little bad when he heard how breathless the farmer was getting, and wondered about the state of his poor lungs. It left his mind easily when he heard the farmer moan for him again

“Ffuuuuuuuuuuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, Shane, I’m gonna fucking…God, ‘m gonna-“

Then the farmer was huffing hard, not pulling back, letting Shane decide for himself how to finish. He just moaned in response, bobbing his head and jerking him straight into his mouth until hot cum was dripping onto his tongue. He sucked, continuing to milk his dick with his tight fist, then he put both hands on the farmers thighs and took his cock all the way to the back of his throat, lips hitting the farmer’s pelvis, and swallowed a few times, making a disgustingly explicit gulping noise that delighted the farmer from his heart to his balls.

“Hhholy shit, Shaneyy….”

He was far too enamored with the pleasure still radiating through his body to notice, much less care, about letting out that childish nickname at such a moment. Shane heard it just barely as he pulled back, sitting back against the house again with a huff. He leaned his head back and wiped his hot lips with the back of his hand as the endearing name sank into the cracks in his heart. His lips and tongue felt a bit numb and tingly against his cool hand. He’d never used them that aggressively on someone before. The nickname struck a specific cord within him, an emotion that mixed strangely with the afterglow sinking in as he watched the farmer redress himself right in front of him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called that name. Their voices played in his head; his parents, his sister, his god-daughter…it was only ever people that loved him who called him that. His throat and chest constricted, and he was fighting to keep himself from crying as the farmer finally sat down in front of him yet again. Their eyes stayed on each other as the farmer lazily crawled over Shane again, cradled his head in his hand, and gave him a sweet kiss. He rested his head on Shane’s shoulder then, holding him in a close hug, which he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around his back, pulling him closer, finally able to take a deep breath. They stayed like that, in peaceful quietness, listening to the birds and the leaves rustling and the animals in the distance.

“I want you, Shane. I really do.”

The whispered confession pushed Shane over the edge, and before he knew it he was letting out quiet sobs and gripping harder at the farmer’s back. He wanted to say something, he really did, but with every thought another stuttering sob wracked his body, until he decided that he couldn’t lie if he wanted to in this state, and conceded to try and be honest with himself for once, and let his tears flow freely down his face. He hadn't consciously noticed the way the farmer was gently petting him until his crying had slowed, but he felt his heartbeat through his chest: an even, soothing beat that steadied him like a metronome. And here he was, offering it freely, convincing him that he is truly wanted. Shane called on all the bravery he could summon, and decided to be truthful.

“I-I want you, too…”

His words were like music to the farmer’s ears. He could work with this. He squeezed him tighter.

“Then be with me…”

He pulled back, enough for them to face each other. Shane’s eyes ran all over his partner’s face, landing on his lips, which he stayed looking at as he nodded, and whispered back,

“Okay…”

The farmer leaned back in, slowly, and kissed him again, even slower. And they stayed like that, holding each other, kissing each other, loving each other.

;-; dis got so sappy at the end…they really DO want each other don’t they…comments and suggestions welcome

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