#this took me way too long to do oh jesus christ

[yooitsyorick]

The Division Book from Today's Short! (Featuring some very rushed doodles from me)

A NEW SYMBOL

At the beginning of this story are two symbols: addition and subtraction. For the longest time, that’s the only thing numbers knew. I’m not exactly sure how the numeral species took so long to discover anything outside of these two symbols. Maybe they were content with what they had discovered already – Maybe they were just stupid.

Anyway, back to the story at hand. Actually, no. We need to go a bit deeper here, I think. First graders learn about multiplication and division. How were they just unable to figure this out? It’s really not that hard. I’m just being honest here. Why should anyone be interested in this “tale” when it’s predicated on such an unbelievable premise? An entire population of sentient, powerful beings and not a single one of them could come up with an array? They’re literally numbers for crying out loud! I just feel like they could’ve figured this out earlier, I guess.

Whatever, quick recap, the numbers only know about addition and subtraction for a long while. They had a lot of fun adding into each other and all that. They really liked it.

Multiplication, which is really just doing addition multiple times in a row, (Think about it, four multiplied by three is just adding four together three times. Isn’t that cool), was discovered shortly after. There were some problems with it, and there are still problems with it. A lot of numbers don’t really mess with multiplication anymore. Every single time they try to, something ends up going wrong. It’s not fun! Addition is fun. Well, I find it quite boring, but they find it fun.

Division, however, stayed a mystery for the longest time. Which it bears repeating, is absolutely unbelievable. Division is literally just opposite multiplication.

Remember when I said multiplication is just addition multiple times in a row? Well, division is just subtraction multiple times in a row. Again, shocking that it took them so long to figure this out. I can imagine the moment now.

A lot of the time, the stupid people among us tend to have the best ideas. A lot of great ideas are unsaid just because they sound stupid. Like, imagine being all smart and educated in the 1500s and suggesting the idea of electricity. Oh, wow, magic beams from the sky can power gigantic and complex machines? Get out of here, man. But that’s actually how it works!

So I don’t really know what happened, but we can probably guess that someone stupid – 9 or 7 – brought up the idea of “reverse multiplication.” I’m not sure. Maybe those two weren’t even alive, I’m not exactly sure why I was the one chosen to pen this history into the annals of time. I really do not know a single thing about what actually happened.

Anyway, let’s just say all the numbers were just sitting around, having a lot of fun, and playing on the seesaw, 9 walks in after a visit to the local multiplication symbol. She has a weird thought in her head, and she confidently brings up the idea of division. She’s laughed at and made to feel very, very dumb. Little did they all know, however, that the idea of division is very, very real. It had just been forgotten about. More on that later.

THE POWER

The division symbol is theorised to be extremely powerful, giving its leftward user the power to split themselves into multiple parts. The amount of parts the leftward number splits into is equivalent to the value of the rightward number in the equation.

The graphic below displays the basic capabilities of the division symbol. 16 being four multiplied by four can get divided by 4 into four four. These fours are all 16, just split up in between four different bodies. They all act like 16 and share 16’s colours. This is because these four 4’s are 16. 16 has disappeared due to splitting themself up. Imagine if you were split into four identical bodies – that’s what ended [up] happening in it. Only in the graphic, of course. 16 is kind of a scaredy-cat, so I don’t think they would be keen to split themselves up like this. Which is frankly weird to me, I think of it the same way I think of people who chicken out of riding roller coasters. Like, you stand there for an hour and a half and watch thousands of people stream in and out of the coaster. Not a single person dies. When’s the last time you saw someone fly out of their roller coaster seat? It doesn’t happen! So, what is there to be afraid of? Do you think you’re special or something? You’re not. You’ll survive. Roller coasters are fun. Why are you robbing yourself of the experience?

Sorry about that rant, this book wasn’t really the place for it. I think I could just delete it, but, um, I really don’t feel like it. I got commissioned to write like at least 200 pages of this thing, and I’m kind of already running out of ideas. You saw it yourself, a couple dozen pages ago I went into a 2 page lecture about the history of devilled eggs. I literally just copied that from Wikipedia. I’m starting to think I’m not being paid for my writing ability, but just because someone was too lazy to do what I’m doing right now. Insane! This thing should be like a pamphlet at most.

Whatever, I should probably get back to the topic at hand. The division symbol is very powerful because it allows the user to split themselves up. This is beneficial for manual labour and especially fighting.

Imagine how much you could get done in a day if there was a clone of you around. That’s like, a basic sitcom plotline. It’s relatable! The numbers, lucky as they are, get to live in a reality where this is possible. You need to lift up a really heavy, wide object? Just divide yourself in two. Of course, you’d have to find 2 in order to divide yourself by them. That’s really the only downside of the symbol. A lot of the smaller numbers don’t like being “used” for division. They have their own lives!

But yeah, division is, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very powerful

THE LOSS

Those who ruled the numeric realm at the time were not pleased with the existence of the division symbol. You know how people say when you’re alone you’re weak, and when you’re united you stand. Well, yeah, extrapolate that concept to this. Do you think those who enjoy power over a population of powerful numbers like the idea of them splitting themselves into a million little equally-powerful pieces? No!

So those in power really did not like the division symbol at all. Like, they really, really did not like it. Like when you walk by a group in public and they start reciting jokes you swear you saw online six years ago to each other. Like, are you that unoriginal? You think you can impress your friends by stealing other people’s jokes? They aren’t even that good of jokes! It’s just sad, honestly. Just show them the joke on your phone, or something like that.

It just really grinds my gears, honestly. So I can really imagine how it feels to be whoever ruled the land of the numbers [was]. I don’t really think it was justified; in fact, it was kind of evil, honestly. But like, if I happened to have dominion over those idiots? Yeah, I probably would want to get rid of the self-destruct button they randomly found and learned how to use. Especially if there are 2 other self-destruct buttons out there for them to use. I say 2 because subtraction is kind of useless. Like… It doesn’t really help anyone. Multiplication and addition are pretty cool though!

So, yeah, one night the numbers were having fun, partying, and just generally enjoying themselves – as numbers are known to do. They generally liked to hang out around the division symbol, actually. They really liked it! It was probably one of their favourite things in the world. Of course, everyone had their own personal favourite thing. 9’s favourite thing was his sunglasses, the real retro ones. They had a rainbow gradient instead of a desert gradient. Doesn’t that sound cool? Meh. I don’t need your approval anyway. Who cares. 8’s favourite thing is when all of the other numbers are quiet. What a weirdo.

So the numbers partied all night. They sang songs and danced around. Blah blah blah. At the dead of night, the last number finally decided to go to bed. Numbers sleep, by the way. I don’t think they really need to? I’ll be honest I know almost nothing about these things. They’re kind of useless? They’re also annoying.

While they were asleep, however, the evil ruler of the realm took the division symbol and removed it from its place! It’s a pretty heavy symbol, so I’m actually kind of amazed that a group of people were able to just pick it up like that. As you’ll see later, 2 is also able to just pick it up on their own. Isn’t that insane? Like, 2, let me know your workout regimen or something. I could use a tip or two. Haha, two, 2.

Ok back on track for real, now BFDI season 1 is the best season. Like, by a mile! It’s just so whimsical and fun and awesome. My favourite episode was episode 6, The Power of Three. What’s up with 3 anyway? Why aren't they in these things? We’re all thinking it, right? This is meta, lol.

For real this time, let’s get back on track. The numbers woke up the next morning to find their precious division symbol gone! All that remained was the discoloured patch of grass that lay under the symbol for so many years.

The numbers were shocked and horrified by the division symbol being taken. 9 cried for like, three days straight, I think. It would’ve been cute if it wasn’t so pathetic. Like, you’re an adult, man. Either way, it was still a tragedy, though. The symbol meant a lot to these freaks! And now it was gone! The fun was over! They got over it quite quickly, though. Like, I’m not kidding, they all forgot about it the literal next day. It was like it never existed. Isn’t that just crazy? These things are so weird, man. Like. Gosh. Just crazy.

THE SEARCH

Leading spots where experts think the division symbol might be hidden. It’s not clear why they think these spots have the most potential. But they’re experts! So listen to ‘em. Also, look, map! Go obsess over what this map means or something if that’s what you’re interested in. Go wild!

Why am I still writing this. How many pages are even left! Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

The typography on those “blahs” is really, really ugly. So I’m going to stop using them to fill space. The numbers embarked on an epic search for the division symbol, but were a little too stupid to end up finding it. Who would’ve guessed! This is partly why I said they just forgot about it earlier. They tried searching for it, got lost, and instantly gave up! What losers! Can’t commit to the simplest of tasks.

If I remember this correctly, 7, the genius he is, started climbing a tree to get a good vantage point. The only problem with that idea, though, was that the tree had like eight different hornet nests on them. He turned as red as 3! Because of the stings, of course. He was pretty embarrassed too, though. He tried really hard to play it off, making excuses. He said something about how the redness came from getting a sunburn… Which, like, isn’t that much less embarrassing than getting stung by thousands of hornets?

Imagine the contempt you feel whenever you see someone walking around with an ugly full-body sunburn. Like, what an idiot. You couldn’t take the basic precautions to avoid this? You couldn’t put in the 10 minutes of work it would’ve taken you to drive to the local pharmacy and buy a can of sunscreen? It’s so easy! And yet, here this dope is, fully sunburnt. Whatever, I went on a tangent again. What do you think the person who commissioned me to write this is going to think when they check my work. My guess is they’ll just see that there’s a lot of words and instantly give it their seal of approval. If you’re reading this, that is exactly what happened. There is almost zero to be actually gained from reading this book. I’ve gone on the same tirade about how little I care like 50 times now. In fact; all of this is just copied and pasted from 10 pages earlier. That last sentence was too! I’ve reused this same passage about three times now, I’m gonna do it again, too. I’m out of ideas.

Anyway, the numbers stopped searching pretty much immediately. I think Eight maybe looked for a day or two more, but he eventually gave up too. He tried to do this thing where he’d split up into four different grey 2’s… It was low-key a little weird but some people seemed to like it. I just made all of that up.

Last paragraph on this page, better make it count. Lalalalalalalala. Uhhh… Yeah I can’t make this one count. There’s really nothing to talk about with “The Search.” There literally basically wasn’t one. There’s no way anyone is reading this far down. Whatever. Bye.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

ELECTRIC. - y.jh

your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms. 

pairing : jeonghan x fem reader. content : f2?. smut. fluff. a bit of angst. comfort. (MINORS DNI) w/c : 6.3k warnings : swearing. jeonghan has astraphobia / a fear of storms (for a brief period, he's a little fragile). intentional lowercase. smut tags utc. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. notes : happy birthday to this sweetest of sweethearts. i would chew my right arm off if he asked me to. (barely proofread. if you see a typo, no you didn't.<3)

smut tags : pussy drunk jeonghan (my beloved), no real power dynamics but jh is a cocky mf and a bit of a dick, panty sniffing hehe, fingering, oral sex (f rec), reader is turned on by the storm. they're very unserious about it.

the lead actors meet in a kiss. the screen fades to black. so ends yet another round of your annual birthday movie nights.

jeonghan reaches for the remote and silences the end credit theme to the film you’ve just finished watching at the same time as you lift your head up off his shoulder, stretching high above your head and letting out perhaps the loudest yawn (-stroke-moan) of your life. your joints ache from too long spent in one, rather cramped, position, your eyes feel heavy in the late hour. the room falls almost silent around you both, save for the harsh splashing of rain against the windows. 

(this really doesn’t help the fact that you’re seconds away from falling asleep.)

“what did you think?” jeonghan asks, stretching his long legs out in front of him. 

“not my best pick,” you say, scrunching your nose a little. “not my worst, either.”

your best friend gives a short ‘ha’ of agreement, finally standing up off the couch. “couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

he gathers up the takeout boxes currently decorating his coffee table and grabs the now empty drinks glasses with his free hand, grunting softly as he stands fully upright again. you see him trying to roll out a kink in his neck and laugh from where you’re still settled comfortably in the couch cushions.

“you’re going stiff in your old age,” you tease him, grinning brightly. he fires a look at you that simultaneously dares you to keep going down this path, and yet also, tiredly agrees. “remind me to book you a good massage for your birthday next year.”

he grunts something that sounds suspiciously like an instruction to go fuck yourself as he takes his leave from the room, carrying everything that needs to be thrown away or washed up into the kitchen. you busy yourself on your phone while he’s gone, deciding to check in on your weather app. you quite like the rain and you’re really not that worried about driving home in it; you’re just curious how long it’s going to last for. 

in the delay of the app opening, a series of bright flashes bounce off every single wall in the living room. when you glance outside, the rain is falling harder than before; barely ten seconds later, a thunderclap roars through the ajar windows and you feel it all the way down into your tummy. 

you don’t have a chance to excitedly run across the room to get a look at the storm, though. a loud swear and the sound of crashing glass stings your eardrums before the rumble is even over. instead, you’re bolting through in the same direction jeonghan disappeared off in just moments ago, your heart having taken dangerous residence your stomach.

“what’s wrong?!” you ask as you skid around the corner in your socks, just managing to catch yourself from sliding straight into the wall at the end of the hallway. “i heard a—”

you freeze, then, falling silent. jeonghan is gripping onto the kitchen counter like his life depends on it with both shattered glasses laying at his feet; he looks like he’s seen a ghost, all white-knuckled and clammy and pale-lipped. it’s terrifying. 

“hey,” you say, slowly making your way into the room, mindful not to startle him and even more careful not to stand on one of the many shards on the laminate. “what happened? are you okay?”

he nods, weakly. swallows hard. blinks a few times, curls and uncurls his fingers, steps back from the counter. 

“yeah,” he breathes eventually, uncertain and still visibly shaken. he wipes his palms on his sweatpants and looks over at you, forcing a smile, but you’ve known him for entirely too long to be sold on this terrible performance. “i, uh-...”

but jeonghan stops short, shaking his head, running out of words to say. for a moment, you think maybe he’s about to apologise; that’s the shape his lips make, anyway. you cut in before he gets the chance.

“it’s okay,” you say, leaning one hip up against the counter. “go sit down, i’ll clear all this up. watch where you stand, though.”

“you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interject before he can even entertain the idea of cleaning the mess himself.

“i know i don’t, but i want to. go. i’ll only be a minute.”

begrudgingly, he agrees; you grab the broom from his kitchen cupboard and start slowly sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan while he carefully steps on the safe parts of the floor and makes his way back through to the living room. you make reasonably quick work of everything, emptying the fragments into the bin on top of the takeout boxes – all that’s left by the time you’re finished a couple of minutes later, is to try and figure out what caused all this in the first place.

jeonghan isn’t an easily shaken individual; you know this from years of experience. he seems to be able to catch you every time, without fail: whether he’s just popping out at you from behind a door and making you yelp, or he’s near-on giving you heart failure by texting you that something terrible has happened and that you need to come over, immediately, only for said ‘terrible’ thing to be that he got really comfy on the couch without making any popcorn. but regardless of all the numerous ways he manages to terrorise you, you’ve never, ever managed to do the same back to him. 

he’s always shrugged off your attempts, bragging that he just isn’t afraid of anything. so… you’re not really any closer to finding an answer at the time of going back through to the living room with your backpack slung over one shoulder.

“you wanna tell me what happened in there?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. you’re sure his posture is supposed to be an attempt to convince you that he’s absolutely fine, now, but jeonghan looks stiff and is outright refusing to meet your eyes, despite your best attempts. again, unfortunately, you aren’t so easily fooled.

“i just came over dizzy,” he lies, doing his best to play it down. “maybe i stood up too fast and had a delayed reaction, i don’t know.”

“i’ve known corpses get up faster than you did, hannie,” you deadpan, laying one hand by his knee. “come on. that’s crap.”

he doesn’t quite jerk away from you, but you do feel his thigh muscles tense under your touch. you slide your palm down onto the couch between you instead in an effort to make him a tiny bit more comfortable. 

“it’s nothing,” he tries. “really. it’s–”

“jeonghan–”

“y/n.”

the room around you falls silent, both of your stubborn personalities at a stalemate. he won’t talk, and you won’t let him stay quiet. it’s been this way for years. since you were teenagers, even. you’d think he would have learned by now. (he hopes that you might have, too.)

but, there is a fact at play that makes you stop staring him down, and you relax your shoulders slightly as you sit forwards.

“i’m only letting this go because it’s your birthday,” you sigh, clasping your hands together. “if it was any other day of the week–”

“yeah, yeah. trust me. i know.”

there’s an edge to his voice that almost sounds like your jeonghan. like the teasing menace you know and adore. almost. it’s missing something. missing his usual spark.

“i swear to god, though, if i find out you’re sick and you’re not telling me,” you mutter under your breath. not quite under your breath enough, mind – he hears you perfectly, and you can see, out of the corner of his eye as you start to rummage through your backpack for your car keys, the way his ears prick up.

“don’t be stupid, i’m not sick,” he says. the truth in these words, specifically, is evident in the weight of his voice, in the way his fingers brush against the small of your back. “i swear.”

“pinky swear?” you ask, turning to look at him over one shoulder.

he holds out his little finger on his right hand for you, both eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. saved for really important promises. when he does the same, you know you can believe him.

“okay,” you concede, going back to your search. “in that case – i think i’m gonna head on home before the roads get flooded.” you had to learn the hard way that the drains in this part of town aren’t known for their ability to handle much more than a middling rainfall.

somehow – always, somehow – buried at the very bottom of your backpack, you manage to find your keys and your hand curls around them as soon as you feel one of the rough edges against your fingertips. it’s barely been three seconds since your announcement, but jeonghan has managed to shuffle right into your personal bubble anyway and is now sitting with one arm pressed fully against your own.

“i don’t know if it’s safe to drive when it’s like this,” he says quietly. “it seems dangerous.”

“i think i’ll be okay if i leave, like, soon,” you try to reassure him. 

“you think,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“i’ve driven in so much worse, believe me,” you say. “don’t worry, i’ll be careful.”

“why don’t you just stay the night?” he offers. “you’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

“i’m not,” you confirm, and you do genuinely consider the offer for a moment before deciding to decline. “but i need a shower, and–”

jeonghan interrupts you, a little too quickly. “you can use my shower, i’ve got spare towels. i’ll sleep on the couch. don’t drive in this.”

“hannie, stop worrying,” you laugh, starting towards the door. “i promise, i’ll go slow and i’ll text you the second i’m home.”

“y/n,” he sighs, stepping towards you, jaw tense. “please. just this once.”

you swallow, looking all over his face, trying to figure out what train of thought the cogs behind his eyes are turning in tune with, why he’s so stressed about this. you’ve never known him behave like this sober. (you’ve only ever known him to be like this once, at all, and he tried to kiss you, then, so–)

“i really…” you start, only to be interrupted by another brilliant white flash. your eyes dart to the window just in time to see the lightning bolt through the clouds, and you feel your face noticeably soften in wonder. barely four seconds later – it’s getting closer – the loudest thunder clap you think you’ve heard in your life drowns out every thought you’ve ever had. 

every thought, except the sudden pressure of jeonghan’s fist around your forearm. every thought, except the stuttered gasp he lets slip. every thought, except the sudden fear in his too-wide-eyes.

oh, you think, realisation dawning on you as the blunt press of his nails grows just a fraction softer in time with the end of the rumble. that’s…

“it’s okay,” you say softly, taking a step closer to jeonghan and opening your arms for him to step into. “it’s okay. i’m here.”

he falls against you like an unsteady house of cards, his arms tight around your back and his head buried into the place in your shoulder where it fits the best. you’ve never seen him like this, and you’re not really sure what to do with yourself; he’s always been the sturdy one, between the two of you. he’s always been your rock. there’s a little bit of an irony in how he’s always been the one to help you weather the storm, but with the shoe on the other foot…

“how can i help you?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back, not really sure that he can feel you through the thick material of his sweatshirt but you’re trying your best, anyway. 

he squeezes you tighter, buries his head further down into your shoulder, takes a few shaky breaths in through his mouth and screws his eyes shut a little more before he makes his request. 

“please stay with me.”

if your heart wasn’t aching for him before, it most certainly is now. you nod to the room at large, hoping jeonghan can feel the movement even a little. you don’t loosen your hold around him, though: you let your best friend cling to you for as long as his muscles will allow before they start to ache and he has to step away. 

“come with me,” you say once he’s finished running his fingers through his hair, trying to set it back to rights. “it’s okay.” you hold one of your hands out to him and he takes it, albeit apprehensively; giving his palm a squeeze with your own, you guide him through the apartment towards his bedroom.

“what are you–?” he asks, and despite his earlier hesitance to hold onto your hand, he doesn’t want to let go of you now you’ve reached your destination. he just stands next to you, fingers threaded through yours, looking at your face with tired eyes and a lifted brow. 

“grab your bedsheets,” you tell him, shaking your hand free. “and your pillows. we’re gonna make a fort.”

“a what?”

“a blanket fort,” you say. “to hide from the storm.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and for a brief second, you think maybe the idea has offended him. his face hasn’t lifted into the smile you sort of expected it to; instead, he’s just staring down at his bed as if he’s trying to will himself out of existence.

“we don’t have to do all that,” he says. “it’s… that’s way too much?”

“it’s your birthday,” you counter. “and i want to make you a birthday fort. like we used to, when we were kids. it’ll be fun!”

he gives a little sigh, but it’s not one of sadness or exasperation with you. it’s defeat. except, you think if you could taste it, you’d be able to pick up a tiny lacing of sweetness in his exhale. 

“fine. you’re building it, though.”

you think it’s safe to say that perhaps, you’re a bit out of practice. you distinctly remember this being much easier when you were young: throwing bedsheets and blankets over the couch and propping them up with chairs or broomsticks. the forts that you would make as a child were, truly, a sight to behold: you used fairy-lights to decorate one, once, and it still remains one of your most prideful projects to date. the slight catastrophe that sits in jeonghan’s living room by the time you’ve finished laying out the last few pillows is… more a cave, in your opinion, and not a very pretty one, but you emerge from it smiling anyway and jeonghan looks at you so fondly that no matter how rubbish it is, it’s worth the half an hour you spent putting it together.

“what do you think?” you ask, sitting back on your heels.

“it’s not your best,” jeonghan teases as he walks towards your monstrosity masterpiece, critically eyeing the ‘roof’ that would definitely fail any kind of health and safety audit. “but it’s not your worst, either.”

a bright smile lights up your face as he drops down to his knees and crawls inside the space alongside you, letting the ‘door’ (a particularly thick blanket) fall down behind him. one of the (many, many, many, many, many) problems you encountered was trying to make one of these to fit two grown adults, but with him tucked away inside with you and a few flashlights to prevent you from being plunged into darkness… ignoring the potential for it all to come collapsing in on you at any given time, it’s surprisingly comfortable. 

you lay back against the pillows first and jeonghan follows soon after, a weirdly gleeful smile playing at his lips as he does. he curls into your side and you talk, and talk, and talk. about everything. about nothing. it doesn’t really matter.

you’re not quite sure why, but the deep roars of the storm outside don’t seem to bother jeonghan quite as much in here. maybe it’s because he’s not alone, and there’s no imminent threat for him to be: maybe your company really is making a difference. he still reaches for you every time there’s a particularly loud clap, still closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths until his stress passes, but for whatever reason, he feels significantly less tense.

and when, after the third boom, he decides just… not to let go of your hand? who are you to try and force him?

there’s… just one problem, though. you’re ecstatic that the storm isn’t bothering jeonghan as much, now. that he can talk absolute nonsense to you in your private little hideaway, that he can lean his head against your shoulder and chuckle at your bad jokes and even crack a few of his own. genuinely, you could not be happier. for him.

but there was more reason than wanting to sleep in your own bed that had you desperately trying to get home before you realised the gravity of your best friend’s situation. 

with every new growl of thunder outside, something low in your stomach twists, accompanied by an ache, a warmth, a throbbing between your thighs. at first, it was easy enough to battle through. you kept telling yourself that the thunder never lasts too long, that you could get through this without jeonghan being any the wiser, that everything was going to be fine. but now, almost an hour later, the buzz of electricity in the atmosphere and the entirely-too-addicting scent of your best friend’s fabric softener has you feeling hot enough you could faint.

you twist and shuffle over and over, hoping to find a position that eases the throbbing. it’s fine, you think, taking a deep breath and praying to every deity you can recall by name that jeonghan doesn’t notice your discomfort. i can do this. it’s fine. just a little while longer.

a spectacular boom sounds through the apartment and jeonghan’s fingers tighten around yours so much that, against all your better judgement, you let out a loud gasp. not out of pain, though – no, you wish. if only it was that easy. ha. no – as he squeezes your hand, images flash through your mind of him being the one to relieve you of the tension building up beneath your skin. of him gripping and grasping and tugging, thrusting, tasting, adoring. your throat runs dry and you squeeze your thighs together desperately, pinching your lips tight, willing your pounding heart to calm the fuck down. willing your cunt to stop drooling into your panties.

“fuck,” you breathe when he finally lets go. you feel him shuffle at your side and prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at your face with mild terror written into the lines of his own.

“i’m so sorry – did that hurt?” he asks, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. you wish he wouldn’t. surely, you think, pressing your tongue harshly against the roof of your mouth, surely my pupils are blown to oblivion, right now.

you shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly running his fingers down your arm, moving to take hold of your hand again if you’ll let him. you flinch, the drag of his nails akin to an electric shock – like being struck by lightning, you tell yourself – and he snaps his hand back straight away. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you hurry, pushing yourself up to sit (almost head-butting him in the process) and groaning at the way the seam on your jeans rubs against your clit. who wears fucking jeans to a movie night? what absolute moron–

“do you feel okay?” jeonghan questions, sitting fully upright now too. “do you think it was the foo–”

“oh my god, please,” you whimper, bowing your head, letting your hair fall around your face, shielding you from him. just a little. not quite enough. “please. i’m fine. stop asking. i’m fine.”

“said everyone, ever, who was in fact – not fine,” jeonghan quips. “do you need water? i can help, just talk to me–”

“jeonghan,” you snap, whipping your head back up. your face feels hot and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt this tense before in all your years on this earth. all your muscles are tweaking in anticipation for something that most certainly is not going to happen, and you really need him to stop talking in that deep, smooth, caring voice. with immediate effect. for the love of god – 

…and heaven above, the penny drops. 

jeonghan’s concerned expression turns to one of complete shock and you cover your face with both hands, trying so desperately hard not to be perceived by him in this most humiliating of moments. he doesn’t say anything for a second, and you tell yourself that he’s probably trying to find either a terrible joke to ease the tension or a way to tell you to go home. you don’t know which would be worse, but it’s only a matter of time until you find out.

therefore, you definitely don’t expect him to pry your hands away from your cheeks, and for his shit-eating, impishly charming, handsome-as-fuck grin to be the first thing your eyes land on when you open them.

“really? thunderstorms?” he asks, close enough that you feel the breaths that his words don’t quite steal. “that’s your kink?”

“it’s not a kink,” you whine, throwing your hands down either side of you. he doesn’t release his hold on your wrist, though. “come on, don’t be–”

“of all the things you could be into,” he says. oh, he’s back. he’s back with a vengeance. you suppose, really, you should be glad that he’s feeling more like his usual self, but the fact that it’s at your expense? that there’s no-one else around for him to turn on instead? that this is your topic of conversation at ten past midnight on his living room floor?

“hannie, please,” you huff, lips drawing downwards into a frowning pout. the ache isn’t going away. why isn’t it going away? why is this cocky, smirking version of your best friend making you feel even hotter under the collar? what’s going on? “don’t you think i’ve suffered enough?”

“not even nearly,” he says, sitting up on his knees, resting his palms on his thighs. “since when? how did you even fig–”

boom.

and his jaw falls slack, watching you squirm.

you’re quite literally fighting for your life. or, at minimum, for your friendship. because, really, you could jump jeonghan’s bones right now and you don’t actually think he’d turn you down (something to be filed under: thoughts that are not making this any easier). but that’s not what you’re trying to do; you’re trying to help him feel better, and take his mind off his fear, and when he pulls his bottom lip between his bottom teeth before speaking ��

“okay, wait. hear me out.”

to both of your surprises, you do. you don’t try and protest, which he was sort of expecting you to do. you don’t tell him to shut up, you don’t try and get away from him. you sit there, eyes wide, hands curling into the blankets beneath your slowly numbing ass, and you wait for him to continue.

“i can help you.”

your heart shoots up into your throat and you struggle to swallow around it. your breaths are heavy, laboured, your lips parted and a little swollen from how you’ve been biting at them for the past hour and a bit.

“you don’t have to–”

“shut up, y/n,” he says dismissively, crawling in front of you and lifting your hands away from the bedding you’re kneading (pathetically, in his professional opinion) like a cat. “listen. you’ve helped me so much tonight, you don’t even know. let me return the favour.”

“hannie…”

“hannie,” he whines, in a poor imitation of your voice. “hannie, i only helped you because you needed me– is that it? look at you, y/n. you’re a mess.”

if this were anyone else, you’d be livid. not only at the way he so effortlessly makes fun of you, but at the fact that he accurately finished your sentence without having anything more than an affectionate nickname to work from as a hint. you don’t know what to say, suddenly stunned into silence, but it’s all right. you don’t need to say anything; he keeps going.

“you need me. let me help you – look. it’s my birthday.”

he wants this, you think to yourself, growing slightly concerned by the way your heart continues to hammer in your throat. he wants… me.

you give one slow, but definite, nod of your head and jeonghan’s grin grows from cocky to genuine. he crawls until he’s right up in your space, lifting a hand to your cheek, and you forget how to breathe for a moment as he looks you in the eyes with more heat than the mid-august sun.

“lie down,” he says, pushing that last little bit closer and capturing your lips in a kiss. it’s short, but mind-boggling. your brain goes totally blank when he pulls away. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.”

but you do as he says and shuffle around the little fort so you’re on your back, head resting against one of the many pillows you’re grateful you brought in here with you. he crawls on top of you, then, caging you in with one hand either side of your head, settling with one of his knees slotted between your just-parted thighs. 

“okay?” he asks, searching your face for any signs of discomfort or worry. he doesn’t find any, though – he’s met only with a perhaps too enthusiastic nod and your hands playing at the hem of his sweatshirt. he chuckles, bending down to kiss you again, a little deeper this time, a little longer. open-mouthed and hot, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, dropping onto one elbow so his torso lies almost flush against yours. 

“easy, tiger. taking care of you, right now.”

you sigh as his lips start to descend down the column of your throat, and you press your shoulders back into the blankets to try and push that little bit closer to him. one of his hands slips beneath your own shirt and his palm comes to rest flush against your hip, dragging his thumb in small circles over your skin. 

“this,” he mumbles into your collarbone, tugging the neckline of the garment between his teeth for a moment so you know what he’s referring to. “off.”

“bossy,” you mumble, your body cold all of a sudden as he sits back away from you and you tug your t-shirt off over your head. as you do, he reaches behind his neck and tugs off his sweatshirt as well before he tosses it up near your head, out of the way.

now, this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever been around jeonghan without anything covering his top half, but it is something that you rarely get the chance to see. if it’s not the fact that he’s chronically freezing cold, it’s because he’s grown emotionally attached to some of the baggiest tops known to mankind, or he’s worried about getting a sunburn so is still covered up at the beach. for one reason or another, this just isn’t something you’re blessed to see very often, and he looks so good you almost forget that it’s him.

of course, that only lasts until he says something really fucking dumb. in other words, all of about three seconds.

“how… practical,” he says, eyes trained down on the bra covering your tits. in a way, it’s probably a good thing you’ve snapped back to your senses, because you once again find yourself thinking that if this were anyone else, you’d have told them to get off you and never call you again.

but why is jeonghan, of all people, criticising your choice of comfy underwear… weirdly endearing?

“sorry,” you grunt, making no effort to hide the (flesh-toned, full-coverage, entirely too old) bra that he’s looking at like it’s personally offending him. “didn’t expect to need to impress, tonight.”

“don’t be sorry,” jeonghan says, shaking his head as he unpops the button on your jeans and tugs them down over your hips. “just… do better next time, yeah?”

you laugh so suddenly, so abruptly, so loudly that you choke on your own spit and end up coughing a little, propping up on one elbow to try and relieve the burn in your lungs as he continues to work your pants off your legs. by the time he scrunches them into a ball and puts them to the side, too, you’ve managed to catch your breath, and gasp out, “next time?”

“next time,” he nods, making himself comfortable between your thighs. he lays one palm on the inside of each knee, pushing them as far apart as your hips will allow, before he brings one hand over your covered cunt and drags his thumb up and down your slit.

you don’t even get a chance to ask why he’s so sure there’ll be a next time. he skillfully works you through the material and in seconds, has you tipping your head back into the pillows, moaning at the overwhelming feeling of finally being touched.

“so fucking wet,” he sighs, feeling your arousal through the cotton of your underwear, pressing the material between your folds. his thumb circles your clit over and over, the pressure just right – not so light that he’s teasing, not so hard that you’re squirming away from him. hell, if you knew he was this good, you’d have dragged him into bed years ago.

“come on, hannie,” you gulp as he starts to work his thumb faster, starts to massage at your inner thigh with his other hand. “need more…”

well, he doesn’t need to be told twice. you lift your hips and he tugs your panties down your thighs, unhooking them from around your ankles. you expect him to, you know, return to business, but he does something just a little bit unhinged first and brings your soaked underwear up to his face. you hear how deeply, how loudly he inhales, the subsequent groan he gives even louder, and you swear the reason you end up bumping his hip with your knee is to bring him back to earth, because it actually feels like he’s forgotten you’re lying right there.

“i’ll do it myself, in a minute,” you threaten, and jeonghan grins wickedly down at you as he lowers your panties down to join the rest of your discarded clothes. 

“no you won’t,” he tells you – he tells you? – , finally now lying down between your legs, just inches away from your glistening cunt. “god – as if i’d ever let that happen.”

“i swear– ” you start, half a second before one of his fingers presses against your hole. you stop talking with a gasp, a hand flying to your chest and squeezing against your tit. just like that. in a heartbeat, you’re done for. 

he seems intent on gathering as much of your arousal on his fingertip as he possibly can, running it through your folds, pressing it inside you, smearing your slick all over and then some like a fucked-up painting. only once he’s satisfied does he finally start to work his finger in and out, pressing his lips just above where your clit is begging for his attention.

“don’t play stupid,” you chide him when he looks up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and feigning innocence. “if you can find it through my underwear, you can find it now.”

“bossy,” jeonghan tuts. “what’s with the rush, huh?” 

and he adds another finger to the first, both long and elegant and reaching spots inside you that your own physically can’t. you keen against your will, hips reacting of their own accord, trying to fuck your pussy down against his hand. he makes no effort to stop you.

“m’not gonna beg,” you tell him. “just – fuck, get your mouth on me. now.”

to his credit, he does.

and more to his credit, being eaten out has never, ever felt this good.

the hand not grasping at your chest shoots down to tangle in his long, silky hair, and jeonghan moans loudly against your pussy as he laves his tongue everywhere he can. over your clit, between your folds, slipping it inside your hole in place of his fingers – he’s relentless, slurping and groaning and finding some sort of insane stamina from somewhere deep in his soul. you swear to god, this is not the man who sometimes falls asleep with his light on because he doesn’t have the energy to get up and turn them off.

within a matter of minutes, you can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your moans and whines only getting louder by the minute. your legs are shaking. your thoughts are little more than static, and him. at some point – you don’t know when –, jeonghan reached around your hips to pull your thighs together and clamped them around his ears, mumbling against your clit something to the effect of to help with the thunder. (you don’t mention that there hasn’t actually been another thunder crack since he started making out with your pussy. it doesn’t feel relevant, somehow.)

every time you tighten your thighs, every time you squirm, he hugs you tighter against his cheeks and you just end up humping against his tongue. something tells you maybe that was the plan all along? 

sparks of energy start to prickle all over your skin as you teeter on the edge of your high. your fist tightens in jeonghan’s hair, your breaths become fewer and further between. it’s frankly a bit of a miracle you’ve even managed to last this long – you held back as long as you could, determined to milk as much of the pleasure his hands and his mouth so skillfully bring as you can. just in case there’s no next time, but… hell, do you hope there is.

“hannie, i’m–” you gasp, his fingers curling upwards again and resuming their earlier assault on your g-spot. “fuck, hannie, i’m so close–”

“mm, have been for a while, huh?” he asks, drawing his mouth away from you, licking his tongue over his arousal-slickened lips. “you’ve been holding out on me.”

“yeah, but-... i wanna come so bad,” you swallow. jeonghan flicks his tongue out over your clit again and you jolt up into the touch. “please, don’t stop.”

“won’t,” he promises. and it’s the last thing he says before his lips meet your pussy again and he brings you over the edge into the most electrifying of climaxes.

by the time you’ve stopped twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, jeonghan is sat up on his knees again, softly massaging at your hips with his thumbs. your vision is still kind of fuzzy at the edges when you glance up at him, and for a moment, with a hazy outline and an amber glow behind him owed to the flashlight you set at the entrance to the fort, you think he looks a little too much like an angel.

“where the hell did that come from?” you ask him, fighting against the squirming in your belly. fighting against the sensation that feels a little too much like butterflies. 

“really?” he asks in a breathy laugh. “that’s-... i mean, do you actually want to know, or…?”

you mull this over for a moment before crossing your arms over your eyes and concealing yourself from his view, shaking your head. one part of you is morbidly curious as to how he got so good at giving head. the other part of you is too busy trying to gather the brain cells he just sent flying across about eight different dimensions.

“i think you’ve broken me, jeonghan,” you breathe, feeling more than seeing him lie down next to you again. his lips press sweetly against the curve of your shoulder. warmth radiates from that one spot, all over your body. you smile, like a complete loser. 

what’s worse is that you really don’t mind.

“is that a yes, then?” he asks, slinging an arm over your waist. you turn your head to look at him, eyes crossing a little with how unexpectedly close he is. 

“yes to what?” 

“to next time,” he says. his grin matches yours and you nod your head at him, yes. in your peripheral vision, you notice how he lifts one hand, extends his little finger. straight in front of you, you see both of his eyebrows raise.

you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. 

saved for really important promises.

“to next time.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.&lt;3

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[ink-n-shadow]

Alright...hear me out. Ghost with a fem!reader that wakes him up with a blow job, and he later returns the favor by waking her up by either eating her out or very gently fucking her awake. I am a FERAL for consenting somno.

this, THIS is what i needed to write about😌

WAKE-UP SEX

𝜗𝜚 the one where you wake simon up with a surprise and he returns the favor

𝜗𝜚 pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), consensual somnophilia (m! and f!receiving), oral (m!receiving, mentions of f!receiving), slight dirty talk? (basically just simon having a way with words), not proofread 𝜗𝜚 note: pt. 2 can be found here ⤳ link

you wouldn’t even know how this whole thing started with simon. you would both probably be a bit tipsy, trying to celebrate his most recent mission with a few sips (an entire bottle) of wine at home.

you would be sitting in simon’s lap, thighs hooked on either side of his hips and leaning back against the hands he was running along your spine. you weren’t even sure you heard him right at first, which made your eyebrows furrow a bit as you met his gaze.

“you want me to what?”

simon rarely got sheepish or embarrassed, but when it came to sex, he was typically a bit more reserved.

“c’mon…don’t make me say it again, sweetheart. that’s fuckin’ cruel to do to a man.” he joked quietly, the touch of his hands on your back becoming a bit firmer as he pulled you closer. “just wanted to give you somethin’ to think about, lovie. i think it’d be bloody sexy to wake up with my cock halfway down your throat."

simon never mentioned it again. but you remembered, letting the idea hang in the back of your mind for weeks. the more you thought about it, the more it excited you. so when you woke up early one morning with simon still fast asleep next you, you knew that it was the perfect time.

you slowly slipped down the bed, nestling yourself under the blankets and between simon's slightly opened thighs. you gently tugged down the hem of his briefs until you could fish his semi-hard cock from its confines, unable to hold back the soft hum that fell from your lips as you felt its heaviness in your palm.

it didn’t even matter that the blanket over your head concealed simon’s peaceful face—all you could focus on was licking a long stripe along the underside of his cock, tongue flicking against the soft pink tip and fingers squeezing along the base. the heady taste of simon bled out on your tongue, making your eyes slowly flutter closed as you closed your lips around him and gave him a gentle suck.

simon’s legs twitched at the sudden stimulation, his brain slow to catch up and stir out of his tired stupor. “mmm…what’re you—oh christ.” his hand found the back of your head beneath the blanket, his other making quick work to push the fabric away from your face and letting his eyes feast on the sight in front of him. “jesus, sweetheart. m’not—fuck, not gonna last long with your throat squeezin’ me like that.”

simon was still half-asleep, his movements slow and sluggish as he shifted further up on the pillows to get a better look at you sucking him off. one hand remained on the back of your head, not as a guide but simply to touch you, the other resting along your opened jaw and fingers brushing at the corner of your stretched lips. he was right—he didn’t last long. it took only a few more languid dips of simon’s cock into the back of your throat before he spilled his cum into your eager mouth with a soft hiss and whimper of your name.

what you didn’t expect to happen after that morning was for simon to return the favor.

you had fallen asleep on the couch one afternoon, legs splayed open and head nestled against the armrest as you slept. it was a blazing afternoon, one so hot that you were only wearing a pair of silk shorts and a tank top—all of which exposed too much and not enough all at once.

simon was walking through the door, arms loaded with his bag of gear and dirty laundry he’d collected while away at base. his eyes caught on your figure immediately, and it took everything in him not to drop the items in his grip. you looked so peaceful as you slept, but simon couldn’t care less about that.

once he had placed this things into a neat pile by the door, simon made his way over to the living room and sunk down on his knees in front of your sleeping form. he didn’t even bother pulling your shorts off of your hips, afraid the movement would stir you from sleep too quickly—so he settled for pressing heated kisses directly along your clothed core, a soft groan leaking from his lips as one arm curled around the thigh propped up against the back of the couch and tugged you closer to his waiting mouth.

a smirk flitted on simon’s lips as your sleeping body reacted perfectly to him, your legs falling open a bit more as you shifted your hips up in your sleep. he continued pressing those kisses along your covered slit until a breathy whine fell from your mouth. he peeked one eye up to notice your tired eyes fluttering open, a soft ‘what’re you doing, si?’ falling from you in a panted breath.

“remember last week? woke up cummin’ down that pretty little throat of yours.” simon mumbled into the heated skin of your thigh as he sunk his teeth into your flesh, pulling away with a lewd pop. his hand dragged up your body, palm pushing against your balmy skin from the top of your cunt until his fingers were splayed on your sternum. “just returnin’ the favor, sweetheart. relax f’me, baby—yeah, that’s it. go back to sleep and let my tongue do all the work, m’kay?”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[riot-ghost]

Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

[navybrat817]

Steve + 9. "Don't even think about getting out of the car."

Oh, Eva. 🫠

Direct Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve doesn't like that you ignored his direct order.

Word Count: Almost 900

Warnings: Arguing, slight angst, stubbornness, slight feels (it's me), Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another overprotective prompt ficlet. Thanks, Eva! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The night air was cool and refreshing as you rolled the window down, but it went back up before you could appreciate the breeze against your skin. You shot Steve a glare who didn't acknowledge you as he drove. You didn't like uncomfortable silence, but you didn't attempt to fill the time with small talk. Not since he decided to rip you a new one in front of the team an hour ago.

You just wanted to go home.

“You have nothing to say?” Steve asked, his voice low. “Must be killing you to go this long without talking.”

You fought the urge to kick the dashboard since the car didn't do anything to you and smacking him could cause an accident. “And it must be killing you that I didn't fall in line today like a perfect little soldier,” you said with a sardonic smile. “Or would you prefer I act like a doll?”

“You ignored my direct order,” he growled as he gripped the steering wheel. For a moment you thought he’d bend or rip it away. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You sneered before facing forward. “Jesus Christ, give it a rest. You berated me enough on the quinjet and I don't need to hear it again.”

He took his eyes off the road long enough for you to see the anger brewing. “Damn right I berated you because you never listen to me.”

The tension thickened. You didn't typically argue with Steve. You went against him once and now he was saying you never listened to him? Where the hell did he get off?

“Don’t you dare lecture me about not listening to you when you’re the one who never listens to anyone,” you argued, feeling a hint of satisfaction when he clenched his jaw. “And I made the right call. I stand by that.”

The mission was a success because of your decision.

“You don't make the calls. That isn't your job,” he snapped, the tires squealing as he made a rough turn. “You could've been hurt or worse. Don't you get that?! You can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“But I wasn't hurt! And me being stubborn? Pot meet fucking kettle, Rogers!”

“Captain,” he said through his perfect teeth.

“Captain,” you scoffed, your blood boiling. “You are not my Captain right now. You're just some guy who wormed his way into driving me home after running his mouth.”

You shrieked when he slammed on the brakes, bracing yourself on the dash when he ran a hand through his blonde hair and bitterly chuckled. It was a foreign sound coming from him. One that made you shut your mouth. “Some guy? Now I’m just some guy?”

Concern flickered across your face. Yeah, you were mad, but you didn't have to push. “Steve. I mean, Captain, I-”

“I’m not just some guy and I’m not just your Captain,” he cut you off, stopping you when you reached for the door handle. “Don't even think about getting out of the car. We’re not done yet.”

“Why should I stay? So you can snap at me some more?” You mumbled. “Would you treat Bucky or Sam or anyone else like this?”

It wasn't fair to try and make him feel bad. He was your leader for a reason and he gave you an order. You didn't follow it. He had every right to be pissed off. By all means he had the right to bench you, too.

But why was he taking it personally?

All the anger fell from Steve’s face as he leaned across the seat more. “I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softened, too. “Why are you sorry?”

“For snapping the way I did,” he said with a shake of his head. “You just scared me today. I get scared every time you go into the field, but that was the first time you…”

“Didn’t listen,” you finished for him, your heart pounding when you realized just how close he was. If he leaned in any closer, his lips would be against yours.

“And you are right. I have a hard time listening to others myself,” he said, smiling when you snorted. “But I don't give you orders for you to act like a perfect soldier or doll. Just like I don't give Bucky or Sam or anyone else orders just to have things done my way. I do it to keep you as safe as possible. It would break my heart if something happened to you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes went wide. “Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” You asked, your stomach doing a funny flip.

He chuckled, the sound much warmer than before. “So, you do listen.”

“Most of the time,” you teased, staring into his eyes. You could see how much he cared. No wonder he took this mission to heart.

“Arguing aside, you did well,” he praised, which sent heat to your cheeks.

“Thank you, Captain. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’ll forgive you for ignoring my orders if you let me walk you to your door.”

“And I'll forgive you for snapping at me in front of the team if you come inside and have a drink,” you countered.

You didn't expect him to move his mouth to your ear. “I’ll only come inside if you say ‘please’,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine. “And that's a direct order.”

Yes, sir. ❤️‍🔥 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mrsstarkey1]

whipped - rafe cameron

summary: rafe totally isn't whipped for you

word count: 1.5k

warnings: just curse words

a/n: check out my most recent rafe fic !

"Alright, what the fuck is up with you?" Topper finally asked Rafe, grabbing onto his shoulder. "We're at a party surrounded by chicks and booze, and you're over here sitting alone looking like you're gonna kill yourself."

Rafe shook Topper’s hand off of him, smoothing out his sweatshirt that Topper had just grabbed onto, "get your hands off me, man." 

Topper held his hands up, "I'm just worried about you, dude."

Rafe simply rolled his eyes, reaching down to the cooler by his chair to grab a beer. He cracked open the can and took a long sip, "happy now?"

Topper scoffed, "whatever, man. At least do a bump," he said, reaching into his back pocket.

Rafe shook his head, "I'm good."

"Oh come on," Topper started, beginning to pull out the plastic bag, only to be stopped by Rafe's grip on his arm.

"I said fucking no, Top. Jesus."

"Alright, alright," he said with a defeated sigh, turning to walk back toward the lively side of the party.

He stopped when he reached Kelce, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, you know what's been up with Rafe lately?"

Kelce shook his head a little, "whatchu mean?" he slurred.

Topper pointed back to wear Rafe was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, just staring straight in front of him, "look at the fucker. Offered him a bump and he said no. He's acting extra bitchy than normal."

Kelce shrugged his shoulders carelessly and started to walk away, but stopped abruptly when a thought entered his mind. "Y'know what it might be? That y/n chick isn't here," he said, eyes widened in realization.

Topper gave him a puzzled look, wracking his brain for any recognition of a y/n. "Who?"

Kelce rolled his eyes, "come on man. Y/n y/l/n. She was in a couple of our classes senior year. Rafe ran into her at that bonfire a couple weeks ago, remember? He was smiling and giggling and shit and blew us off when we asked him about it," Kelce only paused briefly before hitting Toppers chest, "yeah, yeah now that I think about it, he's in an oddly good mood when she's around, and extra douchebaggy when she's not. Shit's crazy, man," he said with a shake of his head.

Topper vaguely remembered the girl he was talking about. He thought for a moment, a plan forming in his slightly intoxicated mind. "You got her number?" he asked Kelce.

"I think. Here," he mumbled, shoving his phone against his chest before taking off toward the girl that had just called his name. If Rafe was actually whipped over this girl, Topper was going to figure it out.

After calling your number about seven times, he finally got an answer. "Jesus Christ Kelce, what do you want?" you'd asked, irritated tone evident in your voice.

"Heyyy y/n, this is Topper Thornton. What are you up to right now?" He asked in his nicest voice he could pull off.

Topper could practically hear you roll your eyes, "currently I'm wishing I'd never given my phone number to Kelce. What do you want?"

"I just wanted to invite you to this party I'm at right now," he said, only now realizing that he had no reason to back up this invitation without spoiling his plan. "It's uh- really fun. And I was just sitting here thinking, 'y/n y/l/n would really like this party'," he said, slapping his hand on his forehead at his own words.

On the other side of the phone, you were sitting in your car outside the party you could only assume Topper was talking about now. You were planning on attending the party from the jump, you'd just lost track of time watching TV. "What's so good about the party, Topper?" you played along for the fun of it. 

"Uhh-" Topper thought for a little too long, "there's uh, beer?" He said, sounding unsure of his words.

You rolled your eyes, but composed yourself. "You know what, Top? You've convinced me. I'm on my way," you said with fake sincerity, smiling at your own acting.

"Really? Great, see ya," Topper hung up the phone, a proud smile on his face. Now all he had to do was watch and see if Kelce was right.

You opened your car door after a couple moments, and made your way inside the house. You squeezed through the crowd of people in the living room, trying to get to a less crowded area.

You stopped in the kitchen, scanning the room for your friend that had invited you. She was nowhere to be seen, so you opted to go get a drink first.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler, sipping it slowly as you leaned against the kitchen counter, still looking around the room for your friend. Your eyes landed on a familiar figure sitting on a chair outside, only visible through the glass doors. You smiled a little, immediately walking toward the back door.

"You look like you're having fun, Cameron," you said once you reached him, sitting down on the table in front of him, your knees touching his.

Rafe's lips twitched into an immediate smile, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He leaned forward a little so he could hear you over the voices of everyone around you, "hey, how long have you been here?"

"Just got here. Why? You been looking for me?" You asked with a smirk, putting your free hand out to shove his shoulder lightly.

Rafe looked down, an involuntary red flush starting on his cheeks. "Course not," he waved the accusation off quickly, in a comically unconvincing tone. "But I am glad you're here. These parties bore the hell out of me."

"Oh come on, Rafe Cameron bored at a party?" your eyes flickered down to the beer in his hand. You grabbed it from him, eyes widening at the realization it was nearly full, "and not even drinking a beer?" You questioned.

Your eyebrow raised as Rafe simply shrugged, "just not feeling it recently, I guess. The last party I actually had fun at was Kelce's a couple weeks ago, remember?" his smile widened as he spoke, "when we absolutely demolished everyone at beer pong."

You laughed with a nod, "course I remember. You're the best pong partner I've had in years," you said truthfully, a smile plastered on your face.

Rafe's expression turned impossibly more bright, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile and the angelic sound of your laugh. He tore his eyes from you after a moment, so he could actually form words. "Do you uh- have any plans for later tonight?"

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a shriek as cold liquid splashed on your shoulder and down your back. You stood up abruptly, wringing out your now beer-soaked shirt.

"Oh shit," a guy slurred from beside you, "my bad."

Topper got up quickly from his chair across the room after witnessing the incident, starting to move toward the two of you. He had just happened to look over just as- okay fine, he was watching intently the whole time.

He prepared himself as he walked to pull Rafe off of the guy that had just soaked you in beer - no doubt in his mind that Rafe would start a fight.

Rafe stood up from his chair quickly, only spending half a second sending a glare toward the drunk idiot who'd done this. He placed his hands on your shoulders, “are you alright?” he asked, worried eyes scanning over you.

Topper's eyes narrowed as he watched Rafe turn his attention fully to you, as the drunk guy stumbled back into the house. He watched intently as the rest of the scene played out, completely opposite from what he expected.

You laughed, nodding your head. “I’m good, I just reek of Bud Light now,” you glanced down at your shirt, “and I look ridiculous,” you said with a chuckle.

Rafe quickly unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off of his shoulders and placing it loosely over yours, "what an asshole," he muttered.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves, chuckling a little at how they fell so far past your hands. You rolled the sleeves up a little, and zipped up the sweatshirt. “Thanks, Rafe. My hero,” you said with a grateful smile.

Rafe’s grin widened uncontrollably at your words, and he quickly tried to shake the giddy feeling off of him, "you uh- you wanna go inside? It looks a little less crowded in there.” 

You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you navigated through the crowd of people together.

Topper let out a shocked breath as he watched you and Rafe walk through the doors and out of his sight. "Well I’ll be damned," he muttered to himself with a shake of his head, "he is whipped."

taglist (message me to be added!): @rafes-bae @willowpains @maybankslover @housekeeperjjswife

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check out my obx masterlist and most recent fic

[mj0702]

Halloween

“Neña…” Mapí whisper yelled from the opposite side of the gym

“Neña!” the tattooed spaniard tried again a tiny bit louder after you didn’t reacted the first time

“Ay dios… NEÑA!!!” Mapí swore under her breath before throwing a tennis ball at your shoulder

“JESUS FUDGING CHRIST!” you squeaked in surprise looking up from the article you just read only while you pulled your earphones out of your ear “What is WRONG with you??!”

“I called you trés times!!!” the blonde defended herself but still waved you over

“I’m not allowed to talk to you when none of the “responsible ones” are around… Keira says we trouble together and I will get in trouble if we get in trouble” you said as you started to walk on but before you could go past Mapí she already grabbed your arm pulling you along

“No trouble… fun” Mapí corrected as she pulled you out of the gym down a hallway

“Where are you… hey” you started as you suddenly got shoved into an empty room – well… not empty “Oh fudge me… what are Tweedledee and Tweedledumb doing here?”

“Look Neña… Piña, Patros and I know how much you miss home…” the tattooed started

“I don’t miss home…” you said just to get ignored

“… and since you miss it so much we thought we celebrate hollowteen with you” Mapí looked at you a childish happiness glinting in her eyes while Patri and Piña nodded along grinning widely

“Uhm… you what?” you asked dumbfounded

“Hollowteen” Piña said like you just asked the most stupid thing in the world

“Again… what?” you asked even more confused

“You know… the night where you dress up as zombies and scare people and get candy for it” Patri explained

“HALLOWEEN!!!!” you slapped your forehead finally understanding what they were talking about

“Sí… hollowteen” Piña nodded happily

“Halloween you dimwits… HALLO-WEEN… not hollowteen…” you said rolling your eyes “… and that’s an American thing…. I’m British you jelly fishes”

“But…. You do that too right?” Mapí looked a little defeated and you had mercy on her

“Yeah kinda…” you shrugged your shoulders “… there’s more people doing it now than when I was younger … I mean Lucy took me around the neighborhood when I was wee”

“So… there’s this hollowteen special at the Barca Museum with Candy collecting and face painting and stuff” Piña said excited “… you wanna go?”

Now three pair of hopeful eyes were turned on you and you know there was only one correct answer

“Ehrm…yeah why not?” you shrugged “… but I’ll blame you if we get in trouble with the hellhounds”

“We just don’t tell Alexia…” the tattooed spaniard smiled widely

“… not only talking about Putellas..” you mumbled “… there’s Walsh… Bronze – even tho she would participate… Batlle… Engen… Paredes… did I forget someone? It feels like I forgot someone…”

“Torrejón?” Mapí helped you out

“Naah… I meant the other norwegian... Not princess norwegian… the other one… the scowling norwegian” you snippet your finger trying to think about her real name

“Caro?” Patri asked carefully

“YES!!! Her…!!!” you exclaimed happily

“Caro is nice” Mapí looked at you confused

“She looks scary” you mumbled

“So… you coming to hollowteen with us?” the tattooed spaniard asked hopefully

“Yes… I told you” you groaned as all three of the player started to give each other high fives

“Where were you Bits?” Keira asked you the second you came through the gym door making you jump

“Jesus fudging…” you exclaimed panting slightly “… what is WRONG with people today???!!!”

“Why so jumpy?” the blonde raised her eyebrow

“I got lost again… stupid building” you grumbled “… and you literally hid behind the door!!”

“Stop bullshiting me… you’re here long enough to know your way around” Keira warned you

“Keiraaaaaa” you whined trying to distract her

“No… I want answers… you were missing… Mapí is missing AND Piña and Patri are missing too.... answers Bitsy” of course the blonde wouldn’t fall for your change of tactics

“Promise me you won’t tell” you said quickly lowering your voice

“Oh god… I swear if you four are planning on doing ANYTHING that COULD mean any form of trouble…” Keira started but you quickly interrupted her

“… Mapí wants to propose and asked for help deciding on ring and location” you rambled quickly having to find something from the top of your head

“Mapí wants what?” the blonde opposite to you asked bewildered thinking she misunderstood you

“You know… ring… finger… here comes the bride” you pressed out acting like it was the biggest secret in Club history

“I… didn’t see that coming” Keira said shaking her head

“Really?” you looked surprised “… they dating forever”

“No… I mean yes” the blonde quickly corrected herself “… I mean I didn’t see it coming that MAPÍ would propose… that woman has the excitement level of a golden retriever but dear God she slow sometimes”

“What is Maps doing?” the person in question suddenly appeared next to you her head slightly tilted

“María….” Keira said seriously as she laid a hand on Maps shoulder “… I approve”

“Approve what?” the tattooed spaniard asked confused

“Your plan… Bitsy just told me… I approve” the englishwoman said smiling slightly

“REALLY???” Mapí asked confused

“Yeah… I had to tell her… about you… and princess norwegian… you know… ring” you intercepted quickly hoping Mapí would get it and not fuck your story up “…. But Keira swore to not tell a soul”

“Ah… okay… ehrm… yeah… ehrm” Mapí stuttered “Gracias?”

“I mean I must admit I always saw Ingrid being the one proposing…” Keira smiled friendly “… so finding out that you planning on doing it… color me surprised”

“Pro… pose… proposing?” the tattooed spaniard stuttered bewildered her eyes wide as you send her a warning glare

“Bitsy said…” the blonde englishwoman gestured to her ring finger

“What does proposing mean?” Mapí suddenly burst out FINALLY catching on now trying to save the situation

“Oh….” Keira exclaimed realizing Mapí got “confused” by the word – the spaniard knew fully well what that word meant “… you know… asking someone to marry them”

You exhaled quietly as Keira apparently bought what Maps was dishing out – until… Mapí had to overdo it

“What does someone mean?” the tattooed woman asked panicking

“María León…” Keira warned getting suspicious again and you slapped your forehead for the second time this day

“Oh you mean “someone” as in Ingrid…” Maps snippet her finger

“Yes you Space cadet” Keira rolled her eyes

“Ah… sí… we married to propose” the spaniard nodded her head frantically smiling wide

“I give up…” the englishwoman groaned turning around leaving the two of you standing there

“You do realize now you actually have to propose to Ingrid right?” you looked expectantly at your sister

“Sí… I planned on it anyway” the spaniard shrugged her shoulders like she just told you she lost her shirt somewhere on the pitch

“Wait… really??” you exclaimed shocked

“You really think I could do any better than her?” Mapí asked “She yes… she can do better than me… but I won’t ever find anyone better than her… so I have to make sure to give her a reason to stay sí?”

“Maps…” you said lost for words

“I know it… I’m nit AS stupid as people think…. Ingrid is the grand jackpot you know…” the blonde shrugged

“You are an amazing person Mapí… you have a heart of gold in the size of a lion…. You are just as much of a jackpot than she is” you said throwing her a smile

“Okay… where are those annoying children?” Alexia asked looking around the big table in her House were she hosted the annual Halloween dinner just to be met with shoulders being shrugged

“I KNEW they were up to something” Keira grumbled staring angrily at the three empty seats opposite to hers

“I tried to call Bubs but no such luck… mailbox” your sister looked at Alexia apologetic

“I’m so gonna make them pay for that” the blonde catalan sneered “Laps until their feet fall off… better… until their LEGS fall off”

“Easy Capi” Jenni grinned patting her best friends shoulder “… I’m sure they’re just late… or planning on a big entrance… it’s Mapí after all”

“I wouldn’t be concerned if it would be JUST Mapí…” Alexia snapped “… it’s the combination Mapí, Patri, Pina AND Cariño”

“Eh… I can see now why they dubbed you the least fun parent” Jenni waved off trying to grab a fried something

“I swear Hermoso if you touch any food before EVERYONE is sitting at this table I WILL cut your hand off” the spanish captain growled

“There was a time where you immensely enjoyed my hands” the dark haired Madrista snorted continue to grab some food not being bothered in the slightest

“Times change” Alexia huffed and took her spoon to slap Jennis hand away from the food

“Aye dios” Jenni swore shaking her hand “That hurt”

“Good…” the blonde spaniard smirked “… don’t say I didn’t warn you before”

“Irene” the dark haired spaniard whined to the third captain who was occupied in holding down her laughter

“Where are you!?!” all of them suddenly heard Ingrid sneering into her phone “María León I swear if you caused trouble again…”

“Gimme” Alexia quickly said holding out her hand and Ingrid passed her the phone

“Mapí….” Alexia started angrily but that was quickly replaced with confusion “Patri? No… no.. if you hang up Patri Guijarro… Patri!!”

“I… presume she hung up?” Jenni snorted as Alexia stared at the phone in her hand

“What gave that away?” Alexia snapped at her best friend “But I have a rough idea where to find them… Keira… Ingrid… let’s go… Irene… if Hermoso tries to steal food again before we’re back – kill her…”

“Aye!” Jenni exclaimed but smirked nonetheless

“You leave my hard prepared food alone Hermoso…” the blonde threatened the Madrista

“Yeah yeah” the dark haired spaniard waved her off popping a piece of croquet in her mouth

“Ugh…” Alexia huffed rolling her eyes standing up being followed by Keira and Ingrid

“Are you sure?” Ingrid looked out of the window skeptical at the Camp Nuo facility where Parents with theirs children walking around participating in this years “trick or treat”-game Barcelona set up

“Not a 100% but I recognized the background music…” Alexia mumbled also watching all the people – it would be a nightmare to move within them without getting recognized which would mean the “foolish four” would be warned about their arrival

“There’s too many people Ale…” Keira now said from the backseat

“I know… but I’m not leaving without… is that Pina?” the blonde started before she set eyes on a big Pineapple costume with a small trick-or-treat bucket in it’s hands

“If that’s Pina she’s really not the best with picking a costume…” Keira snorted amused

“It has to be… look..” Ingrid pointed at three more figures appearing behind the massive Pineapple

“Seriously?!” Keira looked bewildered at a Lion, a something and a Alexia Putellas Zombie

“She went as ME??!!” Alexia exclaimed watching you move with the crowd

“Zombie you…” Ingrid pointed out “… I wonder if that outfit is bought or if she stole it from you… she even has an Armband”

“What is Patri trying to be?” Keira wondered out loud

“The talking Hat from Harry Potter?” Ingrid shrugged her shoulders lost

“No idea but if they’re 100 meters closer we can grab them and shove them into the car” Alexia grumbled right as you looked up locking eyes with her

“Mierda” the blonde spaniard swore seeing how you immediately pulled on Mapís lion costume pointing to the car

“Let’s go then..” Keira said pushing the car door open already speed walking towards you

“Split up” you said quickly as you recognized Alexias car

“What? Why? We have fun” Mapí said confused

“That’s why…” you pointed at the black Cupra more specific Alexias black Cupra

“Uh Oh” Mapí said her eyes widening in shock

“What?” Piña turned around herself in her massive Pineapple costume not catching on

“Move people…” you stressed “… because they move too”

“Who moves?” Pina asked again

“A very angry Capi” Patri said nervously

“Move… I’ll distract them… we meet at the Pineapples place” you said as you pushed Pina to move

“May the odds be in your favorita Neña” Mapí said pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before she started to quickly walk away

“I’m in so much trouble” you mumbled to yourself as you locked eyes with Keira who immediately stopped just staring at you

“Don’t do it Bitsy” Keira said knowing exactly what your next move will be

“What?” Alexia asked confused after she came to a halt behind the blonde englishwoman

“She’s…” Keira started but right that second you made your move

“IT’S ALEXIA… AND KEIRA… AND INGRID!!!” you said loud enough that the people around you looked at you confused but then followed your pointed finger

“Damnit Bitsy” Keira swore under her breath as a group of people came towards her

You on the other hand smirked and mouthed a “Sorry” before you disappeared through the crowd in the other direction

“I can’t believe she did that to us” Alexia grumbled angrily as she opened her door

“I would’ve been surprised if she hadn’t done it” Keira said shaking her hand to ease the tightness of her muscles from giving a million autographs

“So can we eat… where’s the Pequeña?” Jenni rounded the corner to the hallway happily to then look confused

“She threw us under the bus and fucked off” Keira said

“Then why are you here??? You need to go to a hospital!!!” the Madrista exclaimed shocked scanning Alexia for injuries

“What?” the blonde englishwoman looked confused

“You were hit by a bus!” Jenni panicked

“No… no Jenni…. That’s just a saying… we weren’t near any busses” Keira explained quickly

“Oh… that’s good” the dark haired spaniard immediately calmed down

“So… what did she do?” Lucy smirked when Keira took her place next to Lucy

“Pointed out to everyone that we were there” the blonde huffed “… I had to sign a million things”

“That’s a good move…” your sister hummed

“Just because you weren’t there” Keira grumbled

“Capi said “Keira” …. Not “Lucy”… not me fault” Lucy smirked

“Let’s eat” Alexia interrupted rather aggressively

“Finally… I’ve been starving” Jenni exclaimed happily

“Firstly… you’re always starving…” Alexia said unimpressed “… secondly… I’m far the better host… I offered you a drink”

“I’ll trade my snickers for a Mars and a milky way” you said sitting on Pinas bed negotiating with Patri

“No way…. Snickers and that bag of sour things” Patri said

“Nope… no deal… you don’t even like Mars” you looked at her lost

“But I won’t give away two things to receive one…” the midfielder answered

“Well… your loss then” you shrugged your shoulders biting into a Chocolate Bar you traded with Mapí earlier

“So… how fucked are we tomorrow?” Piña suddenly asked

“So SO fucked… but it seriously was worth it” you munched along on your Chocolate

“It was a lot of fun until they had to ruin it” Mapí hummed

“I TOLD you… Alexia is the least fun one” you pointed out and suddenly all four of you bursted out laughing

[lilpotatjj]

Cait and Sam watching their own wedding night episode? Yes aaand no. We all know what these two lovebirds did...like come on who wouldn't? I escalated a wee bit. That's one of my longest Oneshots (almost 5000 words) and I'm gonna continue this with a hugh story about them. Living the forbidden lie in all his cuteness.

Warning: starts with super fluffy and lovely cuteness and turns into a soft 18+ hot mess. Sam beeing Sam and Cait beeing most of the time Cait with slightly cute shyness

(Credits to the Gif owners)

♡Chap.1-Directing their own happy hour♡

A crazy year is over. Filming has long since been completed and the premiere of the first season is over. Several interviews have been held and the first episodes are already on TV. It's September, cool and unpleasantly rainy in LA this year and the day before the premiere of the seventh episode. It's called 'The Wedding Night'.

Cait was out and about, drenched after a conversation with one of the co-producers. It was up in the air whether there would be a second season, but the prospects looked good. She didn't think to bring an umbrella. Why in LA, where it is usually quite warm, even in September.

She ran to her car, the newspaper just over her head for protection, and got in. 'Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ... What the hell is wrong with this weather?' she cursed and was completely soaked. She quickly switched on the engine and turned up the heating. As she drove off, her mobile phone suddenly rang in its holder on the dashboard of the car. 'Hey Sam,' she said simply and focussed on the road.

'Have you been bathing?' he asked wryly, obviously making himself comfortable.

'Very funny...the weather in LA almost reminds me of home,' she was finding it difficult to speak. She was shaking a little and had trouble concentrating. 'I'll call you later if it's unfavourable?' he asked and she said no, perhaps a little too quickly. 'Ah ok' he paused for a moment. 'Tell me what's going on, I'll be fine' she said with chattering teeth and he had to smile, sitting up straight again and looking thoughtful. 'What do you think about travelling to my place and I'll tell you what's going on when you've warmed up at my place?' he asked sincerely without any ulterior motives.

Her cheeks flushed, which wasn't just because she was cold. 'All right, I'm on my way. The same hotel as always?' she asked and he replied with a quick "Yes". The rain didn't stop, on the contrary, it even got heavier. She parked the car in one of the parkingslots in front of the hotel and dashed inside as quickly as she could. Once inside, she asked at reception for the surname Heughan. The servant nodded conspicuously. 'Ah yes, Mr Heughan, he had informed me. He's in room 0410,' he said and with a very friendly smile, he pointed down one of the corridors. Cait thanked him and walked towards his room. Once there, she knocked on his door without thinking. He opened it for her and looked her up and down briefly before she simply entered his hotel room. He looked after her, slightly amused, and went into the bathroom.

When he came out again, he found her standing by the radiator, shivering slightly. He went to her and put a towel over her shoulders. She looked at him gratefully and unconsciously smiled far too sweetly. 'Thank you,' she said quietly and his eyes stayed on hers for longer than he wanted. The reason why he grabbed her towel and started playfully rubbing her hair dry. 'You should bring an umbrella next time,' he said with amusement. 'It wasn't raining when I was out' she gave him an annoyed look as he then went to the wardrobe to lend her some of his own clothes.

'Here' He held the clothes out to her wordlessly and she took them hesitantly. 'It's not going to stop raining that quickly for now. You can spend the night if you want. I'll sleep on the couch,' he said as he looked out of the window. She gave him a look of disbelief. 'Oh come on, we slept anywhere on set where there was space and time. You can sleep in the bed with me' she said dryly without thinking about it and Sam turned to her with his typical look, eyebrow raised slightly, he nodded.

She was right. Time on set was often pretty tough. Sometimes there was no time to sleep and filming often lasted well over 24 hours. Sometimes one of the props or simply a bench was a comfortable place to sleep for a short break. But now they are no longer on set, there is no one around to watch them.

'What did you want to talk about?' she asked curiously as she came out of the bathroom, dressed in one of his big hoodies. She almost sank into it and yet it looked great on her. 'Right, exactly... I wanted to ask you if you'd like to watch tomorrow's episode of Outlander with me' he said and she looked at him curiously. 'What episode was it again?' she asked, rubbing her face tiredly. 'The seventh episode,' he said, unconsciously tense. 'oh ok' came from her, benignly ignorant. 'What's the name of the episode, I'm just too tired to remember which one the last one left off at,' she said, pouring herself a sip of the wine on the table.

'The Wedding Night...' She choked and coughed for a moment. Now it dawned on her. It was that episode. She remembered all the scenes on set too well.

'Are you ok?' he asked without making any facial expressions. 'Yes... I'm sorry,' she apologised and put her glass down again for safety reasons. 'But we're going to need more wine,' she said with amusement and her grin was almost unpleasant. The mood was strange. He scrutinised her carefully while she just stared at the wine, motionless and thoughtful.

She looked slowly at him, his gaze still fixed on her. You would have thought he was burning every corner of her face. It made her nervous, but not in an unpleasant way. She felt the heat in her cheeks and stood up abruptly. 'I think I've spilt...I'll be right back' she disappeared into the bathroom in a flash. She was aware of what was happening, or so she thought, but she was still unsure. He was and is her co-partner. What would the media say, Starz or everyone involved in the big picture? She didn't realise she was breathing faster.

'Cait, are you all right?' he asked anxiously from behind the door. 'Y..yes...I'll be right back.' She splashed water on her face and then came out again. 'And you're sure we should sleep in the same bed?' he asked with raised eyebrows, almost admonishingly. 'That's fine, it's ok,' she said dryly and gave him a cheeky look. She stood in front of him. He was so tall that she always had to look up at him. 'But only if you change too...I doubt you want to sleep in those jeans...you already hated them on set' she looked at him challengingly and tugged at his collar. He enjoyed her closeness. It was clear that he had had feelings for her for some time. It was impossible not to, given the sight of her and her wonderful character. But whether she would ever be serious about him was an open question. He doesn't push her, gives her room to manoeuvre and is patient. Like a crocodile patiently waiting to snatch its prey.

He gave her a charming smile and went to his wardrobe, took out more comfortable clothes and looked at her briefly. She sat down on the couch and unconsciously inspected him as he disappeared into the bathroom. He didn't miss her gaze and when he came out again, he saw her sitting on the couch with her head resting on her hand. She grinned at him. 'Do you want to watch something or are you too tired and want to go to sleep?' he asked solidly, closing the curtains. He turned round and noticed that she already had jumped into bed. She snuggled into the big duvet. He laughed briefly and shook his head playfully. 'well...I take it you've had a full day today...want to talk?' he came round and lay down in bed too. They both looked at each other, snuggled together under a blanket, she was quiet for a moment and had to look at him. It's a completely different feeling alone without people from the set. Far away from all the other trailers, other people or cameras. There was no one here. The thought of it made her heart beat gently faster and she almost forgot to speak, let alone breathe, at the sight of him.

'Yeah...I had a call today and two other annoying appointments before that. I've been travelling all day...then there's the rain...I'm honestly glad to be with you right now' the last words came out of her innocently and unusually meekly. She is usually the type of person who says what she thinks, with consideration for the feelings of others. But it's easier with him. She can be whatever she wants, let herself go with him. He listened to her quietly and attentively.

'Sam... what is it between us?' She looked him in the eye and tried to understand the moment. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face with a wave of his hand, ignoring his own pounding heart. 'We're just lying here talking,' he replied briefly in a low voice. Jesus, can't he stop being cute for once? Struggling to concentrate from his voice and the sight of him, Cait swallowed with difficulty, unable to find an answer.

It was so quiet. Neither of them said anything. Her breathing was much faster and without thinking she snuggled up to him, hiding her face in his chest to hide her burning cheeks. She could hear his heart beating softly and realised that it was also much faster. Sam took her carefully in his arms and decided to remain silent for the time being, to savour the moment. He could smell her hair and buried his face in it a little, kissing it and noticed her smile. He did the same and had to smile. As always, no one needs to say anything to understand.

The sun's warm rays tickled Cait's cheeks and she moved slowly. A large, warm body lay close to her. You really don't need a heater when you're lying next to this 1.92m tall man. She grinned happily as she realised who it was. He was still asleep. She took this moment to observe his sleeping form. He looked so content and balanced, still holding her tightly in his arms.

His calm breathing was soothing, like a lullaby. It was nothing new, sleeping with him, hearing his breathing, feeling him against her, his embrace and yet this time it was completely different. She felt a tingling in her stomach at the mere thought of wanting to touch him. It made her nervous and she suddenly looked away from him only to look back at him again. Her gaze kept switching between his lips and the air she was trying to stare into. No Cait...you better not. Once you start, it will end badly... she thought to herself and thought back to their time on set. They often kissed away from the camera. Out of spontaneous situations to practise, of course...right? The heat rose in her face again. She tried to control her thoughts, but her heart was making it damn hard. She didn't even realise that she had come closer to him, her face close to his, her breathing as if she were climbing a mountain that was out of reach. However, with an unmistakable sound in her voice, she freed herself from his grip in a flash and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Without realising it, she was sweating. She clutched her forehead and tried to get her breathing under control. Damn Balfe, a little more self-control! Her thoughts were waging a war she was in danger of losing. He opened one eye and watched her actions. She flinched slightly as he began to stretch and looked slightly to the side in his direction. He couldn't help but grin self-consciously. She was so cute. He didn't know her to be that shy or insecure. On set, they could both let Jamie and Claire hang out, kiss or touch each other however they wanted. Nobody would have thought it was anything serious, at least that's what they both thought.

She stood up abruptly and looked nervously at him. 'I'm going to freshen up,' she said briefly and Sam let himself fall into his pillow with a smile. He wanted the time to last. To savour this precious moment, just with her...just with Cait.

He made breakfast and the rest of the day was relaxed. Except for a few little things Sam had to do this time, the day was uneventful. Cait spent the time in his room and fell asleep on his couch once again. She was far too tired from the last few days, not to mention the previous night. Snuggled up with one of Sam's woollen blankets, she slept peacefully. The blanket smelled wonderfully of him and transported her to dreamland far too quickly. When the Scotsman returned later that day, he saw her curled up on the couch. Still asleep. He put the key away and took off his shoes to go to her. With quiet steps, he stood next to her and looked at her without a word. She looked so innocent. He often did, watching her sleep. Her soft purring when she slept. Her soft smile when he always secretly snuggled up to her, just to be close to her unnoticed. He loved it.

Sam simply stood still for another moment and looked down at her thoughtfully, bent down and got very close to her face. He could feel her breath on him. The corner of his mouth twitched impatiently and he gave her a delicate kiss on her soft lips. His heart did what it wanted and almost ran away from him, but he didn't care. The kiss was short and so gentle that Cait didn't wake up, at least that's what he thought and realised he was wrong. The ball of blanket and the supposed Mrs Fraser inside it moved gently. She opened her eyes just a crack to somehow recognise what in God's name was happening. Sam was already scurrying about, unpacking a few things he'd been shopping for. There were a few bottles of wine and something to nibble on.

She sat up in a daze, her hair in a wild mess and yawned tiredly. 'What time is it?' she asked with a husky voice. 'It's already 7 pm. How long have you been asleep?' He brought two bottles of wine to the table and two glasses. 'Too long... Well, I don't think I'll fall asleep that quickly watching TV,' she said with amusement and ran her hands through her hair to fix it a little. 'Are you hungry?' he asked, unpacking a bag at the same time. It was Asian Food. 'Yes,' she replied curtly and watched the Scotsman without realising it. Her gaze was dreamy, as if she was looking at the jackpot she had won. He came over to her and set her something to eat. She had to smile. Of course he knew exactly what her favourite food was. 'Thank you,' she said and they both ate some of the food.

'Do you remember filming the episode?' he asked when he had finished eating.

'Yes, quite a lot. I'm curious how it was edited. Some days were so long and tiring,' she took a breath and looked at him. 'It was sometimes very difficult to stay relaxed and yet... You made it easy for me to shoot the more difficult scenes,' he said with a smile and looked at her in detail. She couldn't avoid his gaze and was caught up in it. She quickly picked up her wine glass and took a good sip.

Cait laughed softly as she remembered. 'Did you remember the scene when Claire said "go to bed"? God, how many times we replayed that just because our producer never liked the look in your eyes and then I said "to fuck" off camera, or so I thought? Your look afterwards was exactly what they wanted to see and it was recorded,' she laughed and took another sip. Sam did the same and poured the red wine down his throat. 'How could I forget?' his voice sounded ironic with an amused undertone. 'At least it wasn't too cold when we were naked for what felt like 24 hours,' he said and poured more wine.

She looked silently into her wine glass after his words, then raised her eyes and literally stared at him. He's like an accident... you don't want to look but you can't help but stare at him with curiosity and anticipation. Too mesmerised by his gaze, she once again couldn't get a word out. He could throw a bone now and she would run after it like a dog. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. 'The episode is about to start,' he breathed so quietly that she had to think for a moment whether she had heard him correctly.

Sam came closer to her, looked deep into her eyes and was tired of seeing her like this. She was literally begging to be touched. The Scotsman didn't hesitate a second longer and kissed her gently yet firmly. Cait was briefly surprised and yet she accepted the kiss without hesitation. As if they had kissed hundreds of times before, he brought her to him by taking her face in his hand. He stroked her cheek tenderly and was the first to break the kiss. Cait just looked at him. She could have sworn her heart was stuck one floor below. He smiled at her and she did the same, returning his smile with a blissful grin. He took the remote control without another word.

The atmosphere was strangely relaxed, but you could just feel the crackle. He switched on the TV and the episode started. She looked over at him expectantly, so he couldn't help but lean over and grab her, cuddling her right next to him against his chest. Cait took a contented breath and drank more of the wine as she savoured his closeness and warmth.

They both made comments here and there and had to laugh and shake their heads when Rupert and Angus burst in. 'I remember one of them fell badly once,' Sam laughed and they both grinned. Then came the scene where Claire asks Jamie to bed. Both the Scot and the Irishwoman watched the scene tensely and had to smile again and again. 'How many times we had to repeat that...but you did a good job,' she said contentedly to distract them from what was actually happening. Jamie grabbed Claire's breast. 'Christ, how many times you made me laugh, Cait...you kept making jokes about my breasts,' Sam said with amusement and Cait turned bright red. 'Well I was nervous as hell...we had to take our clothes off...I was afraid I'd ruin your view of naked women' she said sheepishly and he took her chin and forced her to look at him.

'my god Cait...how can you say that...' he whispered more and she looked at him nervously and slightly guiltily. Before she could say anything, Sam beat her to it. 'Your body is beautiful.' She stared at him and their gazes parted as the scene came where Jamie plopped on top of her and penetrated her. The situation couldn't have been stranger. It was weird for both of them to see each other like this. It looked a thousand times hotter on the screen than when they were both shooting that scene over and over again.

Sam grinned at Claire's sweet words when she said she gets crushed by Jamie. He noticed Cait's tension, she squeezed her legs tightly together and banished all her thoughts to the farthest corner of her brain cells. To no avail. Sam looked down at her and took the wine glass from her hand. How much had they actually had now? Both bottles of wine were empty.

Cait looked at him questioningly, but she knew the answer. Sam slowly stroked her legs and hesitantly approached her face. Her breathing increased, her lower lip quivering in response to his touch. She closed the gap and kissed him. But this time more demanding and with far less restraint. Gripped by what was on the television, Cait pressed herself closer to him and without thinking about it, she sat on his lap. He gasped briefly under the stormy kisses only to continue on her neck. She let out a sigh. A soft, pleasurable sound that he knew all too well. It had almost always driven him crazy when they gave their all during filming and he wasn't allowed to have her completely. Shooting a scene is one thing. Shooting naked is something else, but constantly filming wild sex scenes in the nude with such a beautiful woman is simply torture. With her playful but otherwise confident character, he would have liked to show how much he really liked her. He constantly had to touch her. On her breasts, her body and getting closer to areas with his face that made him want to seriously give up control of himself.

Meanwhile, no matter what was on the television, she only had eyes for her Scotsman. She looked at him dreamily, losing herself in his gaze. Everything about him is so attractive. His hair, which she now clung to in order not to lose her mind. His upper body, his beard and God damn his face, with his ice-cold blue eyes that almost robbed her of her will. She unconsciously moved onto his lap when she realised that he was already more than ready for action. Now she smirked cheekily at him, causing him to bite his lower lip. 'You little beast....now you're showing your true colours,' he said almost choking and his gaze didn't leave hers for a second. Somehow they knew it, but it was different here too. He took off her hoodie and just looked at her for a moment. As if he couldn't believe what he saw, he grabbed her breasts as if he wanted to make sure they were the same as usual. He kissed one of them gently and played around with the other.

She leant her head back with pleasure and let him do his thing. 'Sam....' she breathed and looked at him, slightly dazed. 'You too....' she whispered excitedly and took off his shirt too. She looked at him with red cheeks. It didn't matter whether it was the alcohol or Sam's fault. No matter who she drank from, she would be intoxicated by both. She touched him on the shoulder and ran her fingers down his neck to the area below his belly button, from which a few hairs flashed out. Sam's eyes were fixed on Cait with an expression as if she were made of glyphs and he was trying to decipher them.

She grabbed his belt with her hand and tried to open it, but this turned out to be difficult when sitting. He grabbed her ass and literally threw her on the couch, took off his pants only to stand completely naked in front of her. Her gaze was discreetly surprised and looked at his best piece. She was not prepared for that now. They always wore protection on set, which didn't help much when Sam had a hard-on, but it covered everything. She swallowed and for a second a shy shadow could be seen in her eyes. "We want to stay fair, my dear," he pointed to her pants and came closer to her playfully. She looked at him nervously and had to smile to cover up her nervousness.

"Do you want to continue?" he asked as a precaution and in answer she nodded and looked at him with a cheeky, innocent face. He grinned confidently and helped her undress. There she was, completely exposed with a red glow on her cheeks. They had both played through this position so many times before, but this one moment now belonged to the two of them alone.

He grabbed her by the hand to pull her up to him. Cait stood directly in front of him and looked him in the eye anything but uncertainly. She literally felt his heartbeat, as if the two were synchronously forming a unit. She took his hands and intertwined her fingers in his. "Caitriona you are so beautiful" proudly sounded in his voice and she smiled happily at him. "Just you and me" she whispered lovingly, looked at him longingly and Sam couldn't ask any more questions, because she had just answered them.

He kissed her, longing and greedy, clawed at her ass to lift her up and faltered briefly. There was no cut, nothing that interrupted them despite the swaying and could stop the lust of both. He let himself fall back a little on the couch, with her on his lap, without even thinking about breaking the kiss.

Now nothing went according to the script. He was the director of this scene and decided how to proceed in accordance with his Irish beauty. She enjoyed every touch, every second and breathed heavier as he caressed her breasts. Cait became more impatient and looked at him almost begging. He grabbed her ass again to lift her and positioned her so that Sam could penetrate her without any problems. He smiled... She was more than ready. A groan on her part indicated that the tackle would continue as he was into her completely. The Hugh Scot didn't want to slow down, not to be careful that something unexpected happened.

Cait moved and he adjusted to her. This time he couldn't help but moan quietly. She rested her forehead on his and continued moving. Regardless of the hotel neighbors, neither of them cared how loud they were.

He had to smile at the sight of her. She moaned subtly differently than when they were filming. It sounded the same as always, but there was a hint of honesty in the sound of her lovely voice. The sound that makes his bones tremble and underlines the pleasure he is really giving her. Flowing through the alcohol and the rush of adrenaline that they both experience and that made them both sweat, he felt how aroused she already was. He concentrated on her to give her the moment of happiness, but had great difficulty enduring it, especially with her moaning. She really deeply enjoying it.

'Sam...' damn it, he tried so hard not to lose control, but moaning his name like that almost pushed him over the edge. He gasped heavily and bit her shoulder. Finally, she felt a wave rushing deep inside her and completely flooding her. She moaned louder and let him feel how much he loved her without ever having said it.

'Sassenach!' He gasped at the same time as her and let himself fall completely as he came inside her, clawing a little too hard at her round ass. She sank exhausted onto his shoulder and gasped for air. Completely out of breath, both of them tried to understand the situation they were in.

'Everything ok...Mo Chridhe?' He hesitated at first, but he had to say it. He loved her and had no doubt that this would ever change. She was too perfect, her temperament, her way of dealing with him and her laugh. God, how much he loved her laugh. The Scotsman lovingly wrapped the wool blanket around her and let her get some air, but it was starting to make him nervous because she was still hiding into his chest. 'Is everything ok, Cait?' he asked nervously. She turned her head so that her face was directed towards the crook of his neck and he could feel her breath. He got goosebumps.

'I love you...' she whispered softly to him. Three words that could throw him off balance and almost made his heart stop. A smile twitched across his lips. 'I love you too... Sassenach...' he said lovingly and playfully and felt her smile. 'What do we tell the producers?" she asked, quite worried. 'Nothing at first. It will be difficult to hide it... at least partially. Maybe they'll let us do it and accept the unspoken facts. Filming should be easier for both of us,' he tried to explain and stroked her back. Suddenly he looked at her with a Jamie expression, as if he had traveled through time in just a second. 'Could you now...' he paused briefly.

'What?' now she looked at him confused. 'I mean we didn't use protection...' he got nervous and the Irish woman had to giggle. 'No...that's out of the question, don't worry' she said. He smiled in relief. 'We missed half the episode,' he said and she snuggled up next to him. 'It doesn't matter...we'll watch it again then" she said with a cheeky undertone and he kissed her extensively.

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART EIGHT.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when matt brings you to his house after the pits, chris butts in to take good care of you throughout the night.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, intoxication, being hungover

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,930

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i know this series is kind of a flop but i don’t care because i love it😜

however i want to try and get a fic out every day PLUS a part of this so i can have it finished since it’s mostly finished in my notes already. can’t promise anything though since i’m a busy gal but that’s the plan i got!

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 while chris sits on the couch scrolling on his phone. matt left in a hurry before and didn't explain to him why. then, the front door opens. he hears matt’s voice which is in a low tone. “chris!” he whisper-yells. chris looks up to see his brother carefully walking over to him with you ragdoll-like in his arms. chris’s eyes widen in disbelief. “what the fuck did you do?”

matt rolls his eyes. “i didn't do anything. she went to that stupid rage tonight that’s been the talk of the town. she’s lucky she was able to call me to pick her up.”

“jesus,” chris whispers, shaking his head. “i got her from here.”

he holds out his arms as matt helps her walk to him. you smile at chris with lust in your eyes before they fall heavy. matt sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “thank you, matt,” chris says.

“yes. thank you.” you laugh, giving him a weak wave.

“let’s get you upstairs.” chris groans, carefully making his way to the staircase.

matt follows you up the stairs which took longer than they had anticipated. you felt his hand rest on your back for extra support. their parents are sleeping, so you guys have to be extra careful. on the flip side, the boys have to shush you from your giggles. “are you sure you don't need help?” matt asks as he stops in front of his bedroom door.

chris shakes his head. “no, i got it.”

matt opens his door at the same time nick opens his. he stops abruptly, staring at you and then chris repeatedly before speaking. “how long was i in there?” he points over his shoulder into his room.

“oh my god, nick!” you shout. “hi!”

the three of them shush you, nick shaking his head with a sigh. “i need to piss,” he says, walking to the bathroom.

both you and chris get into his room and he plops you onto the bed. you groan, bringing your hands up to your face. he hears you mumble words he can’t make out, observing that you switch moods fast when drunk. he marches over to his closet to pull out a fresh love hoodie, making sure to pull out a 2XL so it can cover you enough to make you feel comfortable. “okay, y/n,” he starts, placing the hoodie neatly next to you. you remove your hands from your face and stare at him. that hint of lust is still in your eyes, but he doesn’t know if it is from the weed and alcohol or not.

mentally taking a note, chris notices that you reek of drugs, too.

“change into this and i’ll throw your clothes in the wash to have ready for tomorrow. you can't sleep in that.”

you sit up and nod. “okay.”

with the little strength you have, you stand on your feet and grab the hoodie. “i’ll step out.” he exits the room, screeching at the sight of nick standing inches from the doorway. “christ, nick. what do you want?”

“what i want is an explanation.”

“It's nothing, nick. she’s just hammered. she can't go home looking like that.”

“being hammered isn’t nothing,” he says, tapping his foot. his face changes to panic. “oh no, what if she has alcohol poisoning or something? what if she dies and we're witnesses? i cannot tolerate that.”

“shut up, you're being dramatic. she’s fine. she needs rest.”

nick brings his hand up to his chest and exhales. “good. i’m going to bed now. thank you for your time.”

sighing, chris faces the door and knocks on it. “you can come in.” he hears a muffle from the other side. he opens the door and sees you sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. the clothes you were previously wearing are bunched up on the floor. he picks them up and you stare at him. “i’ll throw these in the washing machine. are you okay? do you need anything?”

you shake your head weakly. “no.”

after starting the washing machine, chris went back upstairs to get himself ready to sleep. he did a quick change in the bathroom and headed back to the room. this time, you’re under the covers, zoning out as you stare at the ceiling. you don’t acknowledge him until he stands next to you. you blink and look at him with a soft smile.

“you’re cute,” you say as you take your hands to squish both of his cheeks. then, you turn on your side and close your eyes. chris shakes his head, plugging in both of your phones and opening up yours.

your password is 2-4-6-8-1-0. he remembers that ever since you got your phone in middle school, the reason being that you were oddly never good at the two-times tables. he always found that pretty amusing. right now, he has to put on his best y/n impression and tell your mom that you’re okay. kind of.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄.” 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄, 𝐑𝐔��𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐆 your eyes as the sun blinds you awake. your head is fucking pounding. you flutter your eyelids before fully opening them, examining the room that you’re in. it sure isn’t yours. nor are you in your bed.

you think back to the bits and pieces of last night. calling matt, picking you up, bringing you back to his place, chris—

chris.

this is chris’ room. a room you’ve been in hundreds of times because of sleepover weekends back in elementary. you look at the huge hoodie you’re in — which is insanely comfortable — with your clothes neatly folded on the nightstand. you then glance at the floor and see a pillow with a blanket messily placed on top of it. the door slowly opens and chris peeks his head in. he smiles when he sees you, fully stepping into the room and closing the door. “good morning.”

“hi.” you rasp.

“i got you some water and a fuckton of ibuprofen. i’m sure you need it.” he holds up the drink and painkillers that are in his hands. “how’d you sleep?”

“like the dead.”

“that’s good at least.” he shrugs, putting the water and ibuprofen on the surface next to your clothes. you dart your eyes back down at the ground and up at him. “did you seriously sleep on the floor? you could've told me to move.”

he shrugs. “i didn’t have a reason to. you needed the rest more than i did.”

“stop being so fucking nice,” you say, rubbing the crust from the corner of your eyes once more.

he laughs before speaking. “i texted your mom from your phone, by the way. i had to put my y/n face on to do it, which i think i nailed. said you were staying at your friend’s house. that isn't a lie technically now that i think of it. it’s just that if i told her you were sleeping over here in my bed, i’m scared she'll come after me then you.” he brings his finger up to his chin as he rambles about.

your eyes widen at the mention of your mom. “oh shit, i didn't even think about my mom. you saved my life.”

“speaking of moms, mine made breakfast. it’s…” he pauses to look at his phone. “10:30. better get some before it gets cold. there are also some pajama pants in my closet you can throw on to come downstairs.”

“okay.”

that’s all you can say, severely overwhelmed by the hospitality. as much as you hate being abandoned by your friends at a place you aren’t familiar with, the triplets are too nice to do this. you would’ve left your ass there if you were them.

throwing on red plaid pajama pants that are way too big for you; the strings are the tightest they can be, and it is still a little loose. you take the ibuprofen chris gave you and approach the door.

walking out of the room, you see a glimpse of people in the kitchen. marylou spots you first, beaming when she realizes it’s you after a few seconds. “y/n! i didn’t know you slept over. are you going back to the tradition?”

shrugging sheepishly, you laugh. “we’ll see how it goes.”

“go sit down with the boys at the table. i’ll make a plate for you,” she says, starting to immediately prep an extra dish.

“oh, you don’t have—”

“i insist.” she lifts her hand to cut you off.

“you better listen to the lady.” jimmy starts. “don’t. poke. the bear.”

she slaps his arm. “don’t listen to him. go sit, I'll bring your plate to you shortly.”

you follow chris into the dining room that is attached to the living room. nick and matt are next to each other, and you and chris sit on the opposite side of them. the three of them already finished half of their food. “y/n, y/n, y/n,” nick sighs, shaking his head. “you are a wild one.”

you roll your eyes. “it was only a few drinks.”

“i’m surprised you didn’t throw up on me.” matt chimes in. “anyway, how are you feeling this morning?”

“my head is pounding. i practically inhaled all of the ibuprofen upstairs.”

“the pits are bad news. don’t do it again.” matt scolds, pointing his finger at you like a mad parent.

“it’s not worth it, honestly.” nick agrees, chewing on his food. “the parties here can get too intense, sometimes. especially if it's in the middle of nowhere. i’d piss my pants.”

“here’s your plate, hun,” marylou says, placing the waffles and bacon on the placement. she already has the waffles cut up for you and even brought you some apple juice. too nice is not enough words to describe this family.

you’re playing with the food when chris nudges you with his knee. you face him, not realizing how close you are to each other, shoulders touching and all. “do you like… remember anything from last night?” he asks hesitantly.

you sigh. “i remember matt bringing me back here and passing out on your bed.”

chris nods, glancing away for a moment. he looks a little upset when you say that. “why? did i do something wrong?” you ask with a hint of panic.

“no, no, of course not. i was just curious.” the side of his mouth lifts slightly.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 is, he drops you off at home. he’s the only one with a license, so he's the designated driver. chris lets you keep the hoodie and pajama pants, the clothes you were wearing wrapped over your arm. your mom comes sprinting from the kitchen when she hears the front door open. “i was worried about you.” she says, hugging you. good thing you didn't smell as bad, or you would be in huge trouble.

“i texted you, didn't i?” you ask.

god bless chris.

“yes, but it was just really late. you know how i get.”

“i know, but i’m fine.”

“whose clothes are those?” she asks, eyeing you from head to toe.

“jaiden’s.” you lie. “she lent them to me since i didn't have anything to sleep over in.”

“alright. next time text me earlier, okay?”

you nod, walking into your room to get things for your everything shower. you place your robe and fresh clothes on the sides of the sink. while undressing, your phone lights up. glancing down at it, you blush at the name that appears.

butlerkevin started following you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @tpvmz @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew

[ganjas-shit]

Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart

Summary: You get to the bottom of Billy’s feelings but will it be too late?

Pairings: Billy x reader, slight Steve x reader (nothing too crazy)

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexual intercourse, cursing, abuse, blood, harsh language, Neil Hargrove, angst, mention of drugs, mental illness, panic attack.

Authors note: So, turns out I will be turning this into a series but STILL don’t know how long yet! I hope you guys enjoy I’ve been working on this all day. Message me or comment if you’d like to be apart of the tag list! Thank you for your support <3

Chapter Two: You’re gonna be okay.

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

The morning air was crisp and refreshing, like sipping cool water. It felt invigorating against your skin, awakening your senses to the day ahead.

You took one more deep breath, enjoying the cool air in your lungs and closed the door behind you, locking it with your house key, and made your way towards the front of your house waiting for Steve’s arrival.

You close your eyes before slapping a hand over your forehead. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath, realizing you forgot to call him this morning. With his habit of sleeping in, you’d likely be late for the billionth time only this time you didn’t find it in you to care, the excitement from last nights events still lingered in your belly.

Billy showed a different side of himself, setting aside his usual arrogance and charm. This unexpected change only fueled your excitement, leaving you eager to learn more about him.

The sound of Billy and Max bickering snapped you out of your thoughts. Though you couldn’t discern their exact exchange, it was evident Billy had the upper hand as Max slammed the passenger door of his car. “Watch it, shitbird, or you’ll be walking to school!” Billy’s voice echoed with attitude and irritation. Neil’s sudden appearance brought a stern reminder for Billy to mind his words when speaking to his sister

As he was about to get into his car, your eyes met his ocean-blue ones, but they held anger towards you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You immediately shook it off, offering him a wave and your bright, sweet smile. He maintained eye contact for a moment but disregarded your greeting, hopping into the driver’s seat of his blue Camaro.

You stood there, dumbfounded, watching him speed off, cringing at the loud sound of his departure. Did you do something? You thought to yourself.

You found the interaction between him and his father last night rather odd. His father’s presence was intimidating and uncomfortable, yet Billy left with a small smile directed towards you. It seemed like he was grateful for your conversation, so you couldn’t understand what could’ve happened.

Steve arrived momentarily, surprisingly on time, his burgundy bmw stopping right in front of you house. You climbed into the passenger side, a mixture of frustration and disappointment bubbling within you. With a heavy hand and a distracted mind, you slammed the passenger door of Steve’s car.

“Hey, easy!” He yelled, his tone irritated at your lack of consideration for his precious baby, bringing you back to the present moment. “Sorry,” you mumbled, shifting your belongings to the front of your legs and fastening your seatbelt.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve huffed. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” He glanced towards the driver’s window, checking for any incoming cars or pedestrians.

“Billy Hargrove,” you muttered grumpily, turning your gaze out the window as the trees and houses began to blur with the increasing speed of Steve’s car.

Steve looked over at you, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white in the process. “Yeah, well, at least you’re not being benched today because of him,” Steve said, his tone tinged with anger at the fact that Billy clearly upset you and at the realization that he’s not starting or playing the opening game today.

You remained quiet still distracted by your thoughts.

“What happened?” Steve asked, glancing over towards you. You straightened up and began explaining what had occurred the night before.

You started to explain the night in vivid detail to Steve, although he wished you wouldn’t have because he already didn’t like the idea of you and Hargrove together, and hearing the details made him inwardly vomit.

The car came to a halt when you had arrived at school. Steve parked and took the key out of the ignition, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"Billy’s always kind of had a weird temper, y/n," Steve spoke carefully. He wasn’t being judgmental; he's just been a firsthand witness to it. "Him and I have roughed each other up a couple of times," he admitted.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You guys fought?! MORE THAN ONCE? ” You felt a surge of anger; Steve had lied to you. “So that one day after school, when you had a bruised eye, it wasn’t from bumping into a locker, it was from Billy?!” You mimicked Steve’s stupid voice, scolding him.

Steve rolled his eyes at your reaction, his head hitting the back of his headrest. It was the very reason he didn’t want to tell you, because he knew you’d freak out like this. “Can you let me finish?” he asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You waved your hands at him, signaling for him to continue.

“It was after practice one day, Neil, his dad had come to watch our scrimmage game,” Steve spoke.

Steve never forgot that day. Neil Hargrove looked like the biggest dick of a father anyone could have, and the way he spoke to Billy that day confirmed it.

"Billy, stop being a fucking pussy and get on defense!" Neil screamed, as if he were the assistant coach or something. Steve knew Billy could play defense; hell, he was the one who taught him to plant his feet properly.

Steve had the ball, with Billy defending closely. As Steve dribbled, scanning for an opening, he noticed Billy's distant and uneasy expression; it wasn’t filled with arrogance and a cocky smile like it usually was. "Hey man, you alright?" Steve asked, still dribbling. Billy's response was a glare of rage, yet he seized the opportunity. With a swift move, he snatched the ball from Steve's hand, pushing past him, sending Steve on his ass. Smoothly dribbling past him, Billy scored.

When Billy scored, he yelled and smiled as he usually did, then looked to the sidelines where his father stood, seeking some sort of approval or applause from him. However, he received nothing. Neil walked out, acknowledging nothing and Billy’s smile faltered immediately.

Coach Williams called an end to practice, and everyone left for the locker rooms to shower. Steve stayed for a couple more minutes to stretch his legs. As he walked out, he heard some yelling. Curious, he peeked over the wall to his right and saw Neil and Billy. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he did see Neil push Billy into the wall. Although he wasn’t close enough to hear the exchange, Billy looked frightened, and Neil appeared angry at God knows what. Steve witnessed Neil slap Billy once in the face, causing even him to flinch. With that, Neil left, leaving Billy there. Billy’s head hung low as he looked at his shoes and wiped his eyes.

Steve didn’t know what to do but he did what felt right. Again he asked like a broken record. “You alright?”

Billy flinched at the sound of Steve’s voice. “What did you see?” Billy spat with rage. Steve was confused and even hurt by his response. He was just asking if he was okay? Jesus Christ, was this kid always angry and defensive? Steve thought.

Steve decided Billy was a lost cause. He rolled his eyes, turned his back on him, and decided to just leave.

"Are you deaf?" Billy spat, his voice filled with anger, as he followed behind Steve and forcefully pushed his back, causing Steve to stumble and fall once again.

Steve's empathy ran out, replaced by anger. He got up and pushed Billy back. "Looks like you got some fire in you after all, Harrington!" he laughed manically. Steve noticed Billy's bloody nose, but it wasn't from him; it was from Neil.

Billy then charged at Steve, landing a punch on the right side of his face, and Steve retaliated almost instantly. They grappled and exchanged blows for a couple of minutes until Tommy H. and another teammate intervened to break up the fight.

You let out a deep sigh as Steve finished speaking.

Your heart broke for Billy; his father was a despicable, abusive piece of shit. You felt like an idiot for not seeing it earlier, but it still didn’t justify him taking it out on you. Did his father say something about you? You glanced sympathetically at Steve, who had tried to help and ended up with a blow to his right eye. Billy had no right, and while you don't excuse his behavior, you can't help but empathize with him.

"Just be careful with him, y/n," Steve said, his tone filled with concern. "He’s erratic and unpredictable," he added, his worry still evident.

Billy wasn’t a monster; you knew that. You also knew you could handle yourself; you didn’t need protection. After all, you had experience in this department; you dealt with a verbally abusive mother once upon a time.

You smiled at Steve. “I can handle myself. If I can handle the demogorgon, demo bats, and Vecna, I can handle Billy Hargrove,” you said, grabbing his hand that was resting on the center console and squeezing it gently. “Now let’s get to first period before clickety-clackety marks us late.” You finished letting go and opening the passenger door.

Steve did the same. “You know I hate when you and Robin call her that,” he said, now closing and locking his car. “It sounds nerdy,” he explained, speeding up to walk next to you.

Steve grabbed his hand attempting to calm the tingle he felt it in after your touch.

"Too bad," you said, playfully sticking out your tongue as you headed to class, earning you a classic Harrington eye roll. “Wait, how is that nerdy?” You chimed in again, sparking a lively banter between the two of you that continued until you reached class.

.

You got through your classes today only to be bombarded with more work.

The day you’d been dreading all week: the opening game of the season for Hawkins High.

You only ever enjoyed it when Steve played, but with him not playing tonight, the day seemed even worse. However, I suppose you could try to look on the bright side because it was Billy’s debut.

You walked around the gym, proud of yours and Billy’s work; the banners looked great. You double-checked that everyone was in their rightful place. Cheerleaders? Check. Band? Check. Student council? Check. Eddie Munson? Wait, Eddie Munson? At the Hawkins High opening game? No, it couldn’t be.

Eddie strode your way, wearing his infamous hellfire tee, paired with black ripped jeans and a silver chain that hung at the loops of them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You questioned, smiling, genuinely surprised to see Eddie Munson at the opening game.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m thinking about convincing coach Williams to let me join the basketball team,” Eddie said, mimicking shooting a basketball poorly. “Gotta work on my basketball moves,” he added, moving on to mimic dribbling, which was downright horrid.

“Clearly,” you said, laughing at his terrible performance. “Your form is so off, and you look like you have no rhythm,” you added with a chuckle.

“Oh, I have rhythm. But it’s all in the fingers, baby… And trust me, the ladies love it… both ways,” he said with a smirk, punctuating his words with a wink.

You roll your eyes. “Smooth, Casanova.”

“Why are you really here? Is it Chrissy?” you say, raising your eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner. “Or oh no, wait a minute, are you swooning over Billy Hargrove too?” you tease.

He scoffed slightly, his cheeks flushing at the mention of Chrissy’s name.

“No, but if you must know, O’Donnell said if I checked in with her after the game tonight, she’ll give me extra credit,” he explained, wiggling his eyebrows. You couldn’t help but laugh at how much of a dork he was.

But as you conversed, you couldn't help but notice the glares directed your way, especially from Carol and her friends, who were whispering about the two of you. Admitting it was difficult, but you found yourself affected by the things people said. It stung deeply; the cruelty of others weighed heavily on you, especially considering your own past involvement in similar behavior, which made you feel like you deserved the treatment you were receiving.

You shook off the thoughts that invaded your mind and refocused your attention back to Eddie.

“Wanna sit together? I have good seats in the student council section,” you said cheesing, reaching out to poke his stomach.

"Wow, Eddie Munson getting invited to the VIP section at his first Hawkins high basketball game? Count me in," he said, falling into step behind you as you headed towards the student section.

“You are such a dork.”

You and Eddie made your way to your seats, exchanging greetings with Robin as you passed by. Shortly after, the band started playing, and the basketball team began to roll in.

The team then huddled up and Coach Williams sent in the starting lineup, you felt the anticipation building. The game was about to begin.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Billy. Ever since Steve gave you a little insight into who he was, he had been on your mind all day. Despite your best efforts, he didn’t turn his head once to look at you in class today, You had hoped to catch him after class, but that ditz Tina beat you to it. Seeing him all over her made you physically sick. It was nothing new, but today it stung a little more.

.

Billy’s facade of arrogance and confidence was beginning to crack.

He wasn’t prepared for this game, his mind consumed by the events of the previous night. His father had never offered him approval, kindness, or any form of support. But he did for you, which only fueled his bitterness toward you. Billy had dedicated himself to sports, hoping to earn his father’s affection and love. And the only commendation his father ever uttered was about you, summed up in just two words.

“Nice girl.”

Billy came to the conclusion that that’s why his father made those comments about you, realizing that Neil was drawn to submissive, weak, and timid women. It gave him a sense of control, a power trip that he relished, and it was the only valid reason.

But, he knew you weren't weak; you stood up for yourself, you were resilient, but it unsettled him. Since the age of 13, Billy had been consumed by anger after his mother left. She abandoned him, leaving him with a void. In you, he found a sense of safety similar to what he felt with his mother. He was unexplainably drawn towards you. Yet, the thought of attaching himself to you terrified him, fearing you might leave just like his mother did.

The thought of his father wanting you for him unsettled him deeply and fueled his desire to rebel. His mind was a war zone; he was caught between conflicting feelings that were tearing him apart.

He couldn’t help but think that Neil wanted him to follow in his footsteps.

Tommy nudged his shoulder snapping him back to reality, “Hey? You ready to kick some ass Hargrove,” Tommy asked excitedly.

Billy nodded, mustering up everything within him to get his mind straight, but then he saw you in the crowd next to Eddie Munson.

His heart ached a little, he felt guilty about this morning, and he started to feel jealousy course through his veins as he watched you laugh with the mop-headed boy. He kept his eyes on you for so long that he completely missed the sound of the whistle going off.

Shit.

The opposing team took had the ball in play and Billy’s mistake was seen by the entire school resulting in the opposing team making their first point.

The crowd was visibly upset with their screams and yelling and this made Billy’s adrenaline increase and his heart rate was speeding up drastically. His father wasn’t present, dinner with his coworkers was much important than his sons first game but why was he hearing him in the crowd?

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BILLY? WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

“YOU ARE WEAK JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER, SHE LEFT ME WITH A GOOD FOR NOTHING SON.”

“Pussy. Get up pussy.”

“Nice girl.”

His father's words echoed in his mind, panic rising. In the midst of the play, he signaled the refs with his right hand while clutching his tightening chest with his left, the crowd's screams growing louder.

“TIMEOUT. TIMEOUT.” Coach Williams screamed and the game came to a halt. The crowds screams turned into whispers and murmurs.

“Billy what’s gotten into you boy?” Coach Williams asked, “Can you do this or do I need to pull you out?”

“I need a minute.” Billy said gripping the chest of his uniform, making his way towards the nearest exit.

“HARRINGTON GET YOUR ASS UP YOU’RE IN,”

.

Billy held his gaze on yours, and yours remained locked with his. You both were so lost in each other’s eyes that the sound of the ref’s whistle made you jump. You cringed as Billy messed up, not because you cared about basketball, but because you knew how harsh the crowd could be.

Eddie looked from Billy to you, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Okay, what was that? ” Eddie spoke up, curious about the exchange of longing between you and the jock.

You sighed deeply.

“Eddie, I have a question,” you stated, your voice catching slightly. "Can I ask you about your dad?" you asked carefully, not wanting to upset Eddie or stir up painful memories.

“My dad?” Eddie questioned clearing his throat, confused at the sudden subject change, “Um yeah go head shoot,” he said as he crossed one arm over another. You looked over at Billy which didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie.

“After you got away from your dad, what was your personality like? Was it hard to trust people, let them in?” You asked refocusing your gaze to him.

Eddie briefly mentioned his dad while we were in the midst of hot-wiring his neighbor's RV a couple of months ago. And when you guys were gearing up for the upside-down, you had downtime leading to a deep talk about your parents, getting to know how bad Eddie had it growing up with his father. He was a schizophrenic, dope fiend, off his meds, obviously. His mother died of alcohol poising when he was about 7 years old, and he knew his father to be an addict his entire life, always in and out of jail, erratic, delusional, always up to trouble. His father didn’t take Eddie’s mother's death well; his mental state started to deteriorate, the drugs clashing with his illness more and more, and he started blaming Eddie for his mother's death, beginning to put his hands on him. Cigarette burns, bruises, black eyes—you name it, he had it.

CPS got involved, and his father was thrown into a psychiatric home. Eddie was alone, abused, for eight years until his uncle Wayne took him in at 15.

“Oh yeah, definitely. It took me a while to trust anyone,” he said with a dark chuckle. “My uncle Wayne was a patient man. I was rebellious, and I started to follow in my old man’s footsteps. It scared the shit out of me because I was hurting my uncle Wayne, but it was all I knew.” Eddie said, “My uncle Wayne taught me what love was, what it meant to be a true father. If I didn’t have that or some type of good in my life, I would’ve been screwed,” he reflected eternally grateful his uncle saved him.

You pulled Eddie in for a hug, grateful that he had shared with you, and he returned the gesture. After letting go, you took a deep breath, feeling a sense of clarity as you connected the dots.

“Billy’s in the same boat,” you admitted, “but he’s not letting me in,”

Eddie let out a sigh, looking at you sympathetically.

“You’re still a kid, y/n, and you’re not responsible for him. It took my uncle Wayne a while to snap me out of it. It wasn’t easy,” he said, looking over at you with genuine concern.

“Eddie, I’m far from a kid. I practically raised myself since my mom left. You’re forgetting who you’re talking to,” you said, slightly irritated at his reaction. Eddie regretted his choice of words, but he still meant them. You weren’t responsible. “He needs people like us around him. He’s not a bad person; he just doesn’t know any better, just like you at one point.” You said, your words making Eddie feel sympathy for Billy Hargrove.

.

The ref’s whistle blew, signaling the game was about to begin once again, and to everyone’s surprise, Steve was in?

“Holy shit! Yeah, Steve!” You exclaimed, leaping up from your seat in excitement. “Look, Eddie, Steve’s in!” With a playful slap on his chest, you urged Eddie to stand and join in applauding Steve’s entrance onto the court.

Eddie rolled his eyes and threw Steve a thumbs up filled with fake enthusiasm. You slapped his chest again, but this time it wasn’t playful; it actually hurt.

As the game commenced, you glanced over to the bench, Billy nowhere to be found. Concern gnawed at you, but you opted to give him his space, especially since he made it clear he didn’t want to be near you. You also needed time; you wanted to talk to him, but you didn't know how to go about it.

"I don’t understand the love for this stupid game. Don’t people know about D&D?" Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, feeling ashamed he was even here.

“Oh, people know about it alright,” you said sarcastically, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “devil worshipper.”

Eddie dramatically gasped. "Take it back now or I’ll scream," he threatened, his voice filled with mock horror.

.

The night was an absolute blast. Steve's buzzer-beater brought the crowd to their feet, while Eddie's extra credit points from O’Donnell raised his grade to a D+. Principal Higgins even praised your role in the evening's success.

Steve confidently informed you about Billy’s failures, claiming he caught a bug that prevented him from continuing to play today. However, this seemed odd to you, considering he appeared perfectly fine this morning.

Billy was obviously lying.

You congratulated Steve as you bid him farewell, somewhat pleased to see King Steve back in action. Not wanting him to miss out on tonight's fun, you asked Eddie to give you a ride home.

The ride was nice and quiet which was much needed after todays events.

He dropped you off at home, and you made your way to your door. You jangled your keys until you found the right one and stuck it through the keyhole.

You found your way inside and you were welcomed to an empty house yet again, the same note still stuck to the fridge.

You went to your room and started to tidy it up until you heard the sound of Billy’s car pulling up, music blasting from it. He drove like such a maniac, he reminded you of Eddie.

You took a peek out your window and saw that he wasn’t alone.

Oh?

Tina was with him, and they were making out like fucking animals. This angered you beyond words. Did he have no consideration for his neighbors?

You opened your curtains aggressively, then your window which made a loud noise when it hit the top. You didn't know what came over you, but you couldn't care less.

"Hey! You two, mind shutting the fuck up?!" You yelled with all your might from your window, pulling Billy and ditzy Tina away from their heated make-out session.

"You mind fucking off?!" Billy yelled back. Your laughed bitterly which was then accompanied by a defiant middle finger thrown his way, to which he replied the same. With a frustrated sigh, you shut your window and cranked up the volume on your Walkman, drowning out the rowdiness from outside.

.

Your interruption infuriated him, rudely disrupting his moment with Tina and making things much more difficult between them.

“Billy maybe we should go somewhere else?” Tina purred, “Maybe lovers lake?” She implied, shoving her tits in his face.

"Nah, here will do. I can’t wait, doll," he said roughly, ripping the bra off her chest along with her panties. Billy’s dick was rock hard, it angered him so much, because all he could think about was you.

Tina lay sprawled out in his backseat, completely nude, and he couldn’t help but think about you, right next door, likely to hear every bit of it.

He lined his dick up at her entrance and hissed at the feeling. He closed his eyes and began to thrust mind falling back to you.

The way your nipples poked through your shirt that night, your perky tits filling his mind with so much imagination. Your flushed face and the way you clenched your thighs when he spoke to you, oh doll you don’t know what you’re missing. He was sure you hadn’t been touched properly with the way your body responded to him, hell, you probably hadn’t been touched at all.

Fuck, he thought, as he thrusted harder into the poor girl. If only she knew who he was imagining instead of her.

Her moans filled the car, echoing through the entire block. Billy was in for a treat tonight with his father.

"Oh god, Billy, right there, yes, yes!" She exclaimed with pleasure. Billy drowned out the sound of her voice and replaced it with the way you screamed at him a couple of minutes ago, you turned him on so much, especially when you were jealous.

Anger quickly consumed him again as he started to think about everything that took place yesterday, today’s game, and you. God, you were infuriating. You invaded his brain like some parasite, and he couldn’t decide whether it was a butterfly larvae destined to flutter around inside of him or a brain-eating parasitic worm who would gnaw at him for a eternity.

He fucked Tina harder, and harder feeling her clench beautifully around his cock. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his tan chest, the feeling quickly filling his body with pleasure, his movements starting to slow.

Unable to contain himself any longer, his groans grew louder.

“Ah, shit, fuck y/n,” he said with his eyes closed, tilting his head back cumming hard into the condom. As his high came down, he mentally scolded himself and closed his eyes once again, but this time in irritation.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Tina screamed, pushing him off of her, “You’re fucking that freak?!” She yelled dramatically.

Billy rolled his eyes.

"Need a ride home, or are you walking?" Billy asked, his tone nonchalant as he completely disregarded her reaction, casually pulling up his pants and getting dressed.

Tina rolled her eyes back at him. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Hargrove. Take me home,” she huffed, quickly redressing herself.

Billy smiled, hopping into the front seat, and drove off.

.

Once he was done with that, he drove back home, preparing himself for what was about to happen.

"Left eye? Right eye? Nah, too noticeable. People will start asking questions. The stomach? Yeah, that's more of Neil's style," he laughed bitterly, talking to himself.

This is what he wanted. He didn’t care anymore. He always managed to piss his father off somehow, and it would never be on purpose. This was him taking his power back. He’ll give him something to be upset about, he thought, determination coursing through him.

Stepping out of the car, Billy was enveloped by the quietness of the night.

He walked up the steps of his porch and took a deep breath before opening the door. As he entered, there was Neil, seated on the couch as if he were some kind of king. Billy closed the door behind him, locking it securely.

The silence stretched on for a few tense seconds, with nobody daring to break it. Neil waited for an immediate apology, hoping to see Billy cower in fear, but as the apology failed to come forth, Neil's anger only grew more intense.

"You know, with the amount of times I've beaten you, you would think that respect is drilled into that thick fucking brain of yours," Neil spoke up, his voice laced with venom and rage.

Billy stood there unfazed by his father’s words, bored even.

"Don’t you get tired, Dad? Tired of being a shitty fucking father?" Billy spat, laughing bitterly. Neil's eyes widened, and he stood up. "When you act like a shitty parent, this is what you get—a shitty son," Billy finished, his words dripping with resentment and defiance.

Billy’s heart pumped vigorously.

“I pity you. You’re a coward,” he spat out with contempt.

Neil charged at Billy, causing him to fall onto his back, and started throwing punch after punch at his face. “Who do you think you are, huh?!” Neil stopped to grab the collar of Billy’s shirt, bringing his face up to his.

"Your son," Billy spoke, his voice wobbly, blood coming out of his nose, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He was deeply saddened by the poor excuse of a father he had.

Neil laughed dryly. “God, you’re a spitting image of her. You’re just like her too, pathetic,” he spat. “And I’m a coward? Are you forgetting that she abandoned you? She left you with me. What does that say about her?”

Billy now fueled with rage pushed Neil off of him and punched him dead in the face. All hell broke loose after that, with both men fighting seemingly to the death. Billy ended up on his back again, and this time Neil didn’t stop. Billy's vision started to blur, and the last thing he heard was Max and Susan's frantic voices as they attempted to pull Neil off of him.

.

You were drifting into a deep sleep until a loud banging on your door jolted you awake. Your eyes widened, and you got up immediately, the sound of your Walkman still playing in the background.

You ran towards the door as if it were instinct, and there stood Max. She was sobbing, tears staining her red cheeks.

“Max, what’s going on? Is he back?” you asked, reminded of what still lies beneath this town. Max shook her head vigorously.

“No, it’s Billy. Please, y/n, you need to help me and my mom get him into his car. Neil just beat the shit out of him and took off. We need to take him to the hospital!” She cried.

Without hesitation, you grabbed her hand and ran to the house next door. As you entered, you saw broken frames, beach shell decorations scattered everywhere, and broken glass littering the floor.

And there was Billy, his face bruised and gushing with blood. You wanted to sob instantly. The beautiful boy, with the most mesmerizing smile, lay unconscious on the floor, broken.

“I’ll take his arms, you two grab his legs. We need to move fast,” you said, suppressing every ounce of emotion and acting on pure instinct.

You all carefully descended down the steps, giving it everything you got, Billy wasn’t exactly light but you pushed with everything in you to get him into the back of that car. You fell into the back seat with him his head falling in your chest and Susan hopped in the drivers seat and max in the passenger seat.

You search Billy’s pockets and grab his keys, tossing them to Susan.

"Step on it, let's go! We have to hurry!" you said, your voice remaining calm but urging Susan to make haste.

Susan backed out of the driveway and stepped on the gas pedal of Billy’s car hauling ass to get to the nearest hospital.

You checked his pulse and confirming it’s still present, you notice his breathing is a bit light, sparking an overwhelming amount of anxiety within you.

You whisper softly in his ear, “You're going to be okay,” feeling tears welling up, but you quickly wipe them away, pushing your emotions down once more.

"Hey Susan, take a right here and pull into that spot," you instruct, recognizing the familiar surroundings.

You’d been here one too many times.

We pull right up to the emergency room entrance. Max rushes out, calling frantically for help. Two male nurses immediately respond, rushing out with a stretcher and opening the back seat of Billy’s car. You help him sit up slowly, and they swiftly pull him around with urgency, their movements slightly rough in their haste.

"Hey, watch it! Be careful with him!" you yell at the nurses, frustration and concern evident in your voice.

"Ma'am, please let us do our job," they respond firmly, their tone professional but reassuring.

We all hurriedly follow behind the nurses as they wheel Billy into the emergency room. A doctor approaches Susan, hoping for some insight into what happened so he can provide the best care possible. Susan tells him everything, providing as much detail as she can to assist in Billy's treatment.

"Please wait in the waiting room. We'll call you once we've assessed him and he's stable," the doctor says sympathetically, reassuring you as you reluctantly make your way to the waiting area.

You, Susan, and Max waited anxiously. Max buried her face into the crook of your neck, unable to contain her sobs. You brushed her hair gently, trying to offer comfort, but you were struggling to hold yourself together as well.

Being there brought back uneasy memories, and the uncertainty of Billy's condition only deepened your depression.

Over 25 minutes had passed, each second feeling like an eternity in the tense waiting room until,

"Miss Hargrove, miss Hargrove?" called a nurse, breaking the tense atmosphere. But as the nurse approached, her expression unreadable, a chill ran down your spine, leaving you to wonder what news she was about to deliver about Billy's condition.———————————————————————————

Taglist: @jennapancake @writethrough @callsignwidow @strlightfilms

Tags:

[toomuchracket]

girl of your dreams (d word matty x reader smut)

early days of the relationship, sneaky post-show hotel room sex. warnings for d word mention (duh), exactly one (1) spank, matty going down soft sound, unprotected sex (girly is on the pill tho), and creampies. enjoy <3

“yeah, yeah, goodnight,” matty smiles as his bandmates disappear into their respective rooms, entering his own when the locking mechanism clicks open. he's used to that sound now, used to quickly sliding the do not disturb hanger onto the handle, used to kicking his shoes off and placing the keycard near the door and yawning as he turns the corner into the bedroom proper.

what he's not used to, however, is seeing you there, sprawled out on his bed watching tv, wearing your glasses and a champagne-coloured satin nightgown that quite honestly makes him go weak in the knees.

he wants to get used to it, though. really, really wants to. he's determined to, actually. but first, he's determined to make up for being later to your rendezvous than planned. “hi, darling,” he smiles (how could he not, looking at you?), shrugging his jacket off en route to the bed. “i'm so sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“s'alright, baby, i understand. newcastle show and all,” you crawl to the end of the bed to meet him, and the way your tits swing as you do affects him almost as much as the pet name does; both of these things pale in comparison to the way you kiss him, though, all soft lips and quiet sighs, hand coming up to hold his face while you smile into him. when the kiss ends, you press your forehead to matty's, and it takes all his focus not to swoon. “your family are lovely, by the way. ‘specially your dad.”

matty laughs softly. “yeah, he was telling me how canny he thinks you are. says i should be paying you extra for the fact you're the one waking me up every morning.”

“oh, no, i like the kiss currency thing we've got,” you giggle, pressing one to his nose and sending his heart racing. “but were you really that much of a nightmare when you were little?”

“christ, yeah. he didn't detail it?”

“no, he was very sweet. maybe he was trying to make you seem cool,” your pretty face shifts into a smirk, and matty braces himself for the inevitable. “i mean, your family are all so concerned with when you plan on settling down - maybe he was trying to make you seem appealing to me.”

“take it you heard them asking me if i was seeing anyone, then?”

“yeah. was funny,” you peck his lips. “and your answer was very good.”

matty hums, thinking back to the there's someone, yeah, but she's too good for me so i'm playing it cool right now he'd placated his family with. which, to be honest, isn't a total lie. “good, good,” he gently lowers you so you're lying on the bed, crawling atop you and resting his arms on either side of your head; yours rest on his shoulders, pretty nails gently scratching at the back of his head the way he likes. “and was my dad successful?”

“at making you appeal to me? oh, yeah,” the playfulness in your eyes is addictive. “i’m really quite fond of you, matthew.”

god, the way you say his name! “feeling's mutual, gorgeous,” matty leans back, letting his calloused hands lightly skim up the sides of your torso. “love this outfit, by the way.”

“m'glad. bought it with you in mind,” the revelation sends matty reeling, and it's only worsened by what comes next. “dunno if you could call it an outfit, though.”

“why not?”

you smile, sweet as sugar. “because i'm not actually wearing anything else, darling.”

jesus christ. blood rushing in his ears, matty stutters out a response. “you serious?”

a nod, a suggestive bite of your own fingertip. “see for yourself.”

what a fool he would be to do otherwise. blood still pumping in his ears, and travelling more towards his trousers by the nanosecond, matty drags himself down your body and settles himself on the bed between your - fucking gorgeous - legs. with something almost resembling trepidation, he slowly pushes the silk up your thighs, jaw dropping in a groan as he takes in the enticing wetness pooling between them on your cunt. “fucking hell, sweetheart,” he moans, hand tracing up your slit and circling your clit as if on instinct, making you jerk with a whine and his dick jump as a result. when he brings his fingers to his lips and the delectable tang of you hits his tongue, matty's necessary next step becomes crystal clear. “please, please let me eat you out.”

your reply nearly makes him cum there and then - another thing matty's still unused to is the new nickname you've been trying out together, but it isn't half fucking incredible. “yes, daddy.”

matty thinks he breathed out a “thank you” as soon as the words left your lips, but he can't be sure; the only thing he can focus on is getting his mouth on you, licking upwards to your clit before wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and flicking over it with the tip of his tongue, just the way he was elated to discover you like. he can't help but moan into you when he hears your little whimper of “oh, just like that, yeah”, smiling when you moan louder in response and clamp your thighs around his head - a second later, when realisation seems to hit, you go to loosen your grip with a half-whined “m'sorry, daddy”, but matty just shakes his head (which has you moaning again as his tongue slices across your clit) and shuffles himself around so he can wrap his arms around your thighs and keep them there. not out of masochism - well, part of it is - but more out of the fact that your thighs locked around his head is proof that this is really happening, and he isn't just dreaming about going down on you like he did for months after first meeting you. 

of course, reality is so much better than those dreams: matty could never have imagined how good you actually taste when he's licking into you with nothing short of desperation, or how beautiful you look when you're all fucked-out, or the way your voice goes all shaky when you're about to cum. which, incidentally, is what's happening now - “m'close, daddy, m'so fucking close. wanna cum, please, please let me cum!”

seems as good a time as any for matty to take a breath, he thinks. pulling away from you just long enough to take in a lungful or air, he nods. “cum, princess.”

with a dazed smile so beautiful it breaks his heart a little bit, and a breathy “thank you”, you obey, body tensing and releasing a final time, accompanied by shaking limbs and broken whimpers of his name and his nickname and god only knows what else. matty kisses your inner thigh, resting his head on it and letting you come back down to earth in your own time; he likes watching you like this, anyway, worn-out from pleasure and a little bit haphazard. your hair's a mess, your glasses are askew (he's also far more into them than he initially thought, to be honest), and your nightgown is really quite crinkled, but he can practically feel the adoration for you emanating from himself. 

you're so beautiful. and you're his. he still can't quite believe it's not a dream.

you rake a hand through his sweaty curls, and he's reminded that this is all real. he kisses your thigh again, and you giggle. “hi.”

“hi, darling,” matty rubs a little loveheart on your thigh with his thumb. “how you feeling?”

“so good. thank you, gorgeous,” you smile, while matty's cheeks burn at the compliment. “how are you?”

“i'm good, angel, i'm really good.”

“tired at all?”

he shakes his head. “not really. but we can go to sleep now if you want,” he smirks when you shake your head enthusiastically. “no? there's something else you wanna stay up for… princess?”

you bite your lip, nodding. he huffs out a laugh. “need you to tell me what it is so we can do it, sweet girl. come on,” he pulls himself up slowly, pressing kisses up your stomach and resting his head on your tits. “tell daddy what you want.”

“i - oh, fuck,” you whimper as matty tugs down the top of your dress and mouths at your nipple. “want- want you to fuck me, daddy. please.”

he knew it was coming, and yet matty still feels heat trickle down his chest right to his dick when you speak. “good girl. and how do you want to be fucked, princess?”

“in front of the mirror,” your voice is clear, sure, sexy; it crumbles when you talk again, but matty thinks your secret desire is even hotter. “wanna watch.”

the next few minutes are a blur to matty, which he reckons he would put down to some weird primitive horny instinct to just fuck you as soon as he can. he remembers kissing you, but nothing about how he got you on your hands and knees before the mirror or undressed himself; post-kiss, the only thing he can focus on is the feeling of inching inside your soaked cunt, watching your eyes roll back into your head, listening to the choked moan that leaves your kiss-bitten lips as he bottoms out inside you with a murmured “fuck”. he kisses your shoulder, smiling into your summer-scented skin at the way you giggle deliriously. “feel so good around me, baby. you want me to fuck you now?”

“please,” your jaw slackens as matty starts to move his hips; when he speeds up, groaning at how wet you are, how brain-meltingly tight, you whimper, and he has to force himself not to cum then and there. “daddy…”

“i know, sweetheart, i know. doing so well for me,” matty coos, eyes fixated on the reflection of your tits bouncing in the genuinely most perfect way with every thrust. christ, he's really lucked out with you, hasn't he? sweet, smart, fucking gorgeous… he's punching well above his weight. “my beautiful girl. want me to get you off again, princess?”

you nod, whimpering when his hand meets your asscheek; as he rubs the stinging skin, matty sighs. “words, baby, come on.”

“sorry, daddy. yes please.”

he leans forward to kiss the nape of your neck, moving to whisper in your ear. “good girl.”

his hips speed up, so much so that he can already feel the muscle aches he'll wake up with tomorrow. but it's more than worth it to see you like this, to make you like this, wanton and writhing and whining every time your bodies meet; the way you're beginning to clench around him in the way matty's learned is a sign that you're about to cum spurs him on, too, desperate to get you off and chase his own release. “c'mon, princess,” he pants, gripping your hips as tight as possible to keep up momentum. “need you to cum for me, yeah? cum, and i'll fill you up. know you fucking love it when i do that, don't you? love being a good girl for daddy.”

“yeah,” comes the broken cry in response. your cheeks are stained with mascara tears, streaming from your hazy eyes, and your whole body appears to be shaking - suddenly, it tenses, and matty hisses at the feeling of you vice-tight around his dick. “m'cumming, oh fuck, fuck!”

there's an influx of warmth and wetness around him, and matty can't help but follow in your footsteps. “shit, me too,” he moans, brain foggy but body still slamming into yours, syncopated now; he clings to you as he cums, eyes rolling back into his head as he finishes deep inside your cunt. your arms give out, and matty follows your fall onto the bed, draping himself over you without pulling out and pressing his lips to the back of your neck. “jesus christ, princess, you're so good,” he kisses your cheek when you giggle, a sweetness incongruous with the fact he can feel his cum dripping out of you. “y'alright?”

“yeah,” you turn to catch his lips with yours, a tender kiss that ends with you looking at him so adoringly he almost can't take it. “thank you, baby.”

“anytime. s'my pleasure. and yours, i s'pose.”

“you're so silly.”

“and you're into it.”

“i am, yeah,” you smile, and matty swears he can feel butterflies in his stomach. “i'm just very into you.”

“i feel the same about you,” matty strokes your hair, yawning. “shall we shower? or d'you wanna stay like this for a bit, darling?”

you beam. “wanna stay like this forever, matty. but,” you wink. “given that we're both working tomorrow, maybe we should limit it to, let's say, five minutes of this before we shower?”

god, he's so obsessed with you. “whatever you want, my girl.”

[onerubii]

Dream or Vision? (My Butler)

(I would summarize this shortly summarizing this but I don’t what to say without spoiling it.)

Word count: 1.1k (I was kinda disappointed, I thought it would be longer.)

heads up! | SMUT Butler!cheol x richsub! Reader. Unprotected sex (don’t do this guys), oral (f receiving), pussy drunk, degradation, praise

authors note! | hi so sorry this took so long but I based this off dark hair cheol, specifically dazed Korea cheol. This isn’t too smutty nor is it too vanilla, I think it’s just right and I will write more smut like this. I also tried to change my writing style and intro set up to be more neat. I hope it worked. Now I’ll leave you alone! (I hope that by the end of this you’ll get why it’s called dream or vision.)

His face contorts as he slides into your wet cunt, almost busting just then. You grab his arms to steady yourself whimpering his name quietly. He groans when he looks down at your absolutely ruined expression. “Just started and you’re already fucked out huh? You’re so pathetic, my little slut say it.” “I’m your little slut cheol shit.” “Good girl.”. Then he starts moving no, pounding into your beautiful wet little pussy, rubbing fast circles on your clit. 

He lets out pornstar groans and strokes your cheek before lightly smacking it. He continues shoving his fat cock into for the second time that night.  You try to pry his hand off your clit so you don’t come as fast but he doesn’t let up. You feel your orgasm build up in your core. “Seungcheol, I’m gonna cum.” You close your eyes and engulf in the pleasure then,

It was the middle of the night and your eyes shift open. You can tell why easily, you’re hungry. Weirdly craving sweets your feet dangle before they hit the ground and you can finally stand. Your butler seungcheol should be sleep anyways. Still, you quietly sneak out of your room to not wake him. 

You made it to the kitchen and start looking for what you want which, just now came to you that it might be a honeybun or two. You grab one out of the cabinet and start eating. You recall your dream and your face heats up. “Jesus Christ.” You whisper then turn and see the beautiful buff man who was in your dream giving you the most life changing sex you’ve ever had. “Jesus Christ seungcheol!” He tilts his head, “I didn’t mean to scare you mam. My apologies.” 

Oh that name, that name he always calls you. You know it’s just professional but you can help but rub your thighs together like a dumb slut whenever it rolls off his tongue. God this was turning you on more than you wanted. “It’s okay seungcheol, but what are you doing up?” “I heard you in the kitchen, my job is to help you mam.”. 

Damn, is he doing it on purpose? The name, his sleepy voice your panties were getting all to wet all to fast. It was uncomfortable actually. You shifted to try and fix them. Seungcheol has a sharp eye so he noticed it and held back a smirk. “Is there anything you need help with mam?”  Of course there is, your slick was almost dripping down your legs at this point. “No.” 

You whimper out and fuck, he catches it. He slowly steps closer and you swear you feel your heart jump from in between your boobs. “Are you sure mam? I can help you with anything.” His eyes run down your body until they reach your thighs, looking straight in between. 

“Seungcheol?” “Yes?” “Touch me, please.” 

That was all you had to say before your lips collided with his and you were carried to a room. You couldn’t tell which with the way he stuck his tongue in your mouth as if slurping your saliva. He caressed your butt and laid you down on the bed. He was gentle but it felt rough. The kiss went on for longer than you wanted. You whined in his mouth and broke it. 

 “Not enough” he chuckled “you want more mam?” You nodded frantically and sealed your beautiful eyes shut. You felt him move away from you only to feel him again kissing you, just lower. On your thighs which were bear, you didn’t remember that happening. He licked all of your juices off your thighs and moved his lips onto your panties, sucking on them and drinking the slick right off them groaning at the sweet taste. You were no where near quiet. Eventually, the panties weren’t enough and he had to taste you. 

He slipped them off your legs admiring your beautiful cunt before he dove in. His lips sucked on your clit softly and slowly. He licked long stripes up and down your pussy, groaned and rolled his eyes back at the taste of you on his tongue. He stuck his tongue in your hole and fucked you with it slowly. You began to whine about his pace, rushing him to make you come all over his tongue. 

He immediately come out of his trance and sped up. Your moans and whimpers go louder and louder as you reached your climax. You tangle your hands in his pretty black hair and your legs shake. He rides out your high and when he’s done, you pull his hair up to kiss you earning a groan from him. The taste of yourself was shared between your lips and it only made you hornier. 

“Take off your pants please?”. You watched as his pants and boxers fall down to his feet. His cock springs up, hard and red. He strokes it and looks at you for approval before getting back on top of you. You get comfortable and put a pillow behind your head as you get ready for the life changing sex you had in your dream. 

His face contorts as he slides into your wet cunt, almost busting just then. You grab his arms to steady yourself whimpering his name quietly. He groans when he looks down at your absolutely ruined expression. “Just started and you’re already fucked out huh mam? You’re so beautiful , my good girl, say it.” “I’m your good girl cheol- shit.” “Good girl.”. Then he starts moving no, pounding into your beautiful wet little pussy, rubbing fast circles on your clit. 

He lets out pornstar groans and strokes your cheek before kissing it. He continues shoving his fat cock into for the first time that night.  You try to pry his hand off your clit so you don’t come as fast but he doesn’t let up. You feel your orgasm build up in your core. “Seungcheol, I’m gonna cum.” You close your eyes and engulf in the pleasure then, you cum. 

Hard, you shake and your jaw slacks open but lets out no sound. He keeps going until he comes as well. He pulls out and lays next to you to catch his breath. “Was that good mam?” He looks at you for approval. “That’s was great cheol. Thank you.” 

You kiss his lips but, the kiss turns into something more heated. You get on top of him and he grabs at your hips roughly. When you break the kiss, you see something dark spark in his eyes. He slips his now hard dick, back into your tight pussy and watches as you start to ride him.

[worldlxvlys]

hey! so can u do like a short little story of Chris (he’s ur bf in the story!) and y/n has a attitude at a party and Chris teaches y/n a lesson in a smutty way and like use toys and vibrators on y/n and cuddles at the end? <3 IF U FEEL COMFORTABLE WRITING THIS STORY! <3 tysm!! 💓💓🫶🏻🫶🏻

Attitude

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: nsfw (if that makes you uncomfy pls don’t read) p in v, oral (female receiving), squirting, overstimulation

now i know i told y’all i don’t write, idk why y’all thought i was joking 😃 i tried tho so… enjoy <333

“Yeah we’re not fucking doing this. You’ve had an attitude all night long and i’m fucking sick of it” Chris says.

Suddenly, he grabs my arm and starts towards the stairs.

“Chris, where are we going?” I ask, obviously annoyed.

“I’m teaching you a fucking lesson”. Chris says as I follow him up the stairs.

I have no clue whose room this is but Chris seems to know as he goes behind the door and goes to pick up a small pink bag. Once he retrieves the bag, he slams the door shut and locks it.

“I don’t know where this little attitude came from, but I’m fucking sick of it” he growls.

He then pushes me up against the door and starts trailing kisses down my neck. Then, at an alarming speed, he pushes his lips onto mine. The kiss was hungry and rushed as his hands roamed my body. He squeezes my ass, causing me to gasp and he took the opportunity to explore my mouth with his tongue.

Then, pulling away, he brought the the pink bag back into view.

“I got a little surprise for you baby” Chris said as he pulled out two vibrators, one pink and the other purple.

“Just bought these baby, heard they’re pretty powerful. Guess we’re gonna find out” he whispered into my ear as he reached for the bottom of my dress.

“This ok baby?” he asked, looking for any sense of discomfort in my eyes.

“Always.” I answered with a smile.

He then pushed me onto the bed and pulled my dress up to my waist. He switched on the purple vibrator, putting it on the highest setting.

“Put this on your tits, do not move it.” he said as he passed it to me.

“Take it off and you’re not fucking cumming.” he growled.

Doing as he said, I placed the vibrator on my left nipple.

“Holy fuck Chris” he was right, it was really powerful.

He then started kissing up my thighs, closer and closer to where I needed him.

“Please don’t tease Chris” I whined.

“Hm maybe I would listen to you if you hadn’t acted like a little brat tonight” he said as he continued to leave teasing kisses around my heat.

Then, finally, he licked a stripe up my core.

“Jesus Christ” I moaned out as my hips involuntarily bucked up.

He then pushed them down, and proceeded to move his tongue through my folds relentlessly. He kept eating me out like his life depended on it.

“ FUCKKK CHRIS” the only sounds that could be heard were the slurping of Chris’s mouth on my wet pussy, the gentle hum of the vibrator on my nipple, and his name repeated over and over on my lips.

“Mmm. Taste so fucking good ma” Chris moaned into me, causing me to stumble over the edge.

Chris finally lifted his head up, my juices coating his face.

“Did that feel good ma?”

“Fuck yes Chris” I replied.

Then without warning, he shoved his fingers inside of me.

“C-Chris I can’t. Too sensitive” was all I could get out.

“Hm well brats don’t get to decide how many times they come, do they?” he asked.

“Gonna stretch you out baby, you gonna take me well like a good girl?”

I was so focused on his fingers filling my hole up so well, I couldn’t even answer.

Slap.

Chris hit my clit with the palm of my hand, making my hips jolt.

“Fucking answer me”

“Holy fuck Chris! Yes yes i’ll take you so well, gonna be your good girl” with that, he lined his cock up with my glistening hole.

“You know your safe word?”

“Yes Chris”

Suddenly, he started pounding into me at an ungodly pace.

“ FUCK FUCK FUCK CHRIS OH MY GOD”

“That’s right baby, let me hear you”

At this point, I had forgotten about the vibrator that had somehow ended up falling out of my hand.

Suddenly spotting it, he picked it up and switched it on.

“I told you not to move it didn’t I, princess?”

I couldn’t even respond at this point, the only thing coming out of my mouth was his name in choked out moans. As if his relentless pace wasn’t enough, he suddenly placed the vibrator directly onto my clit, causing me to cry out.

“OH M- CHRIS I CAN’T I CAN’T”

“Yes you can baby, lay there and fucking take it”

The pleasure was so intense, I started to tear up. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as an unfamiliar feeling came over me.

“CHRIS I THINK I’M G-”

“Cum for me baby, give it to me. Want my cock to be fucking drenched in your cum”

I let go, juices spilling onto the sheets and Chris’s lower half as he spilled his seed inside of me. Riding us through our highs, Chris started to slow his pace.

As Chris pulled out, I winced and watched our juices spill out of me.

“Holy fucking shit Chris that was amazing” I sighed as I flipped onto my back.

“Yeah yeah, don’t do that shit again though” he chuckled as he kissed my forehead.

“Eh, we’ll see.”

🌀🌀🌀🌀

y’all that was my first time actually writing a fic wtf… maybe i should just stick to texts and snaps fr

i really went for it huh😭

idk if this is good so uh… lmk

k bye <333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey

[gemstone-roses]

Hello lovely! If you’re taking requests, would you be able to please write something smutty about Hannibal x reader sort of like enemies to lovers maybe where they don’t get a long and she’s a bit weary of him but one day they end up having really rough sex??? Lots of dirty talk and choking pls xx

Woo okay, let's go!

This took me forever so I hope you like it, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated🥺🥺

a:n- minors be gone 18+ only!. Dirty talk, female reader, choking,smut, rough sex. So. Much. Smut. I got a bit carried away oops, pussy eating, praise kink, filthy language, unprotected sex, mentions of choking on a dick, choking, 18+

Ooh there's a bit of a build up too this time! It's a bit long oops.

This work is intended for adults only, meaning those who are 18 and over. remember you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Hannibal finds it amusing, the way you roll your eyes whenever he opens his mouth. He might well have a good point but it doesent stop you from making your annoyance known. You thought hannibal was just far too cocky and far too sure of himself.

And every time hannibal sees it, a sly smirk appears on his face.

You loathed working with him, and your boss seemed to be oblivious to this since he always made you go with hannibal on a case.

"Im driving" you huff, not even looking at him as you reach for the drivers side handle

"It's my car" hannibal says simply, leaning on the door,causing it to shut.

You gape at him, hannibal stands there leaning against the car door, lazily, a smile dancing across his face.

Hannibal raises his eyebrows at you, waiting.

"You are insufferable do you know that!" You state

Hannibal just smiles wider, sticking his tongue between his teeth watching you become angrier at him.

"Fine" you huff, launching the keys at him. Your pouting, breath heaving slightly, and hannibal can't help the way it sends blood rushing to his cock.

Hannibal starts the car and the radio blares on. You lean over from the passenger seat to try and change it to something more your taste when hannibal places his hand firmly on your thigh.

"Leave it" he says lowly.

Your brain short circuits for a moment

"I am not, listening to this!" You manage to breathe out, hopefully hiding shakiness in your voice.

Hannibal ignores you, hoping it'll be the end of your utterly annoying complaining.

It's not.

"Go that way its quicker" you say

He doesn't.

"You should of gone the other way" you state, as you join a small line of traffic due to some road works.

The drive only takes 15 minutes but by the time you both get out of the car hannibal is rubbing his temples dramatically.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't realise I was so terrible to be around" you say.

Hannibal furrows his brows.

"I need you to come to my office when we get back" he says firmly

"Jesus christ how about some manners?" You roll your eyes

Hannibal turns around and walks towards you, you can't help your heart speed up at the sight, he's so very... attractive.

You blink away the thoughts right as he reaches you

"Y/N" he whispers, he's out of breath, putting both arms on either side of you he's trapped you against the car.

You open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

Hannibal swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, taking note of the way your breathing increases.

He leaves you without saying another word.

The drive back is silent.

He gets out first when you arrive, not even waiting for you to get out the car.

By the time you reach his office, he's already sitting behind his desk.

You enter and shut the door behind you, hannibal looks up at you and his gaze is so intense it makes you want the floor to swallow you up.

"You- you wanted me to come up here" you say, hannibal gets up and clears the space between you in seconds.

And once again he places both arms either side of you, leaning against the door.

You notice he's rolled his sleeves up and it makes your brain short circuit for a moment.

" I did" he agrees, he steps forward, meaning you have to widen your legs slightly

"What are you-

"You have been testing my patience y/n" he whispers, hands rubbing up your waist gently.

"Yeah well your pretty insufferable yourself" you whisper.

Hannibal traces his hand up to your jaw, his big hand gripping your chin, a finger reaching out to caress your cheek

"Should I stop?" He whispers stilling his hand, a warmness in his gaze you haven't seen before.

You shake your head, lips parted slightly.

"Use your words" he whispers lowly.

"I don't want you to stop" you say

"Good girl" he praises and hannibal dosent miss the way your pupils widen at that.

Hannibal bites his lip slightly, oh he is going to enjoy this.

"You liked that didn't you?" He teases, dropping his hand from your chin to rest around your neck.

"Mm hmm" you mutter, slightly breathless.

Hannibal tightens his hand slightly, studying your reaction, he feels your pulse quicken under his hand, you shift slightly trying to ease the growing ache in your cunt.

He squeezes a little harder, causing you to let a moan you'd been holding in escape your lips.

Hannibals cock strains against his pants.

"Open your mouth for me darling" he says, swiping his thumb across your lip before pushing in two of his fingers.

You wrap your lips around his fingers and suck, hannibal closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, commiting to memory the sight in front of him.

"That's it darling" he smiles, his cock twitching every time you made a noise.

He pushes into you, his erection brushing up against your leg.

"Do you feel that y/n?"

You whimper

Hannibal removes his fingers from your mouth, reaching down, he guides your hand to his bulge.

You stroke your hand up and down a couple of times, taking notice of how thick he feels, hannibal let's out a low moan before quickly pushing your hand away and opening his hand to take yours, he guides your arm up above your head before crashing his lips to yours.

You can tell he's skillful by the way he kisses. One hand pinning yours above your head, the other grips your waist, you feel the books on the shelf behind you pressing into your back.

Hannibal pushes his tongue into your mouth, gripping your waist tighter you moan into the kiss.

"You sound delightful when you moan my love" he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Please" you whisper, needing more.

"What my love?, what do you want?" He knows exactly what you want, he just wants to hear you beg.

"Touch me" you say, closing your eyes as you sigh

"No no" he tuts, stroking your face

"Look at me"

You open your eyes and stare into his, his eyes blown wide with lust.

"Good girl" he says again and this time you don't bother trying to stifle the groan escaping from your throat.

" I bet you've soaked right through your panties haven't you, and I've hardly, even, touched, you" and with each word his hands inch lower into the waistband of your pants.

He runs a finger through your soaking folds, presses it to your clit.

It makes you squeal.

"Fuck hanni-

He smirkes at you, removing his fingers and instead gripping your wrist and leading you to his couch.

"Lie down" he states simply, and you do, bringing your lip between your teeth as hannibal loosens his tie.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he undresses, he can see its driving you mad as your chest heaves watching him.

"I've dreamt about how you'll taste on my tongue" his accent thick as he kneels between your legs.

Slowly, he removes your trousers, every touch of his fingers on your skin making your pussy throb.

When he's done he admires the view, a prominent wet patch visible in your panties.

You thrust your hips up slightly, indicating for him to hurry up and just touch you.

Hannibal leans down placing his hands on either side of your thighs, he brings his mouth to your clothed pussy, placing a far too soft kiss to your dripping, covered cunt.

You let out a frustrated moan, hannibal chuckles, finally hooking his fingers through your panties.

"May I?" He asks softly.

You nod

"Words, darling" he whispers

"Yes" you almost scream, and hannibal finally touches you where you needed him most.

His tongue teases the outside of your pussy before circling your clit slowly.

"Oh fuck" you moan, thrusting your hips into his mouth, hannibal removes one of his hands from your thigh, teasing your entrance with his finger.

His tongue presses flat against your clit as he pushes a finger inside you, he curls his finger, reaching that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Oh my god hanni" you breathe, hannibal removes his mouth from your folds as he inserts another finger.

"I can feel you tightening around my fingers darling, are you going to Cum?" He asks, but he knows the answer. You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm approach

"Open your eyes and look at me sweetheart" he speaks so softly it makes your cunt clench harder.

"That's it, cum for me y/n, i got you, let go for me" he urges as your pussy clenches round his fingers and you see stars.

Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath, but before you've had time to fully recover, hannibal places his cock at your dripping hole.

"Fuck me, please" you breathe, and that's all hannibal needs to hear before pushing his thick cock into your pussy.

"You feel incredible around my cock" he moans as he thrusts into you slowly.

Hannibal snakes his hand up your body, around your neck once more.

He applies a tiny bit of pressure as he fucks into you, your eyes roll back in pleasure and hannibal quickens his pace.

"Mm fuck" you moan

"Your squeezing my cock so good y/n" he praises as his hand continues squeezing your throat.

"Im gonna cum again hanni" you warn him, feeling a second orgasm approach.

"Cum with me" he groans, and it's the hottest thing you've ever heard, he's breathless, his skin glowing slightly from the activity.

"Hanni-" you choke out, his cock hitting your g spot with every thrust, he can feel your walls tightening around him.

"Cum for me y/n" he moans as his own orgasm washes over him, and with one last squeeze of his hand around your neck, you feel his cock tighten inside you, causing your brain to short circuit for a moment, you see stars once more as you cum on hannibals cock.

Hannibal pulls out slowly when you've caught your breath and recovered.

"That was-

"Incredible" he finishes for you.

"I should piss you off more often" you tease, he's lay next to you on the couch, his hands trailing softly over your stomach.

"Next time, maybe I'll choke on your cock" you add.