#we’re gonna have an 18-car pile up

[logan-lieutenant]

kmag: these penalties aren’t fair. i get punished for “safety hazards” that are really just minor infringements, meanwhile ricciardo was let off easy after nearly sending nico into the barrier at 300 kph.

stewards: yeah, about that… we should probably point out that nico’s contact with yuki was not only nico’s own fault but way more dangerous tha–

kmag: sorry, maybe you didn’t hear me correctly. i said THE NEXT PERSON WHO LAYS HANDS ON MY HUSBAND–––

[bellewintersroe]

Lance Stroll x HornerDaughter! BFF Smut.

Ok this is loosely based of an audio linked by @2-fast-2-curious because she’s doing gods work out here with her F1 audio masterlist, I’m not sure if I should link the actual audio I don’t wanna steal anything, but anyway here’s some Lance smut so 18+. warning: explicit content, intoxication, funny drunken arguments, masturbation, unprotected sex, unexpected sex, creampie, oral, admission of feelings? probs not a warning but yolo. I LOVE writing as reader being Horner’s daughter it’s just fun ok. Reader and Lance are besties and have been for a while but they reunite and something clicks between them, anyway enjoy…

Partying it up in Monaco was probably the pinnacle of my life. Nothing could get better than being 22 and dancing on a yacht with all of your closest friends. Promiscuous Girl was blaring through the speakers as the yacht began its way back to dock in the harbour. It was a Saturday night and the expensive town of Monte Carlo was bustling. Vibrant nights exploded through the night sky and vibrations of all kinds of music spread through my body.

“Should you be up there?!” Lance asked, one of my closest friends as he stared up to me on the back of the drivers platform. “No.” I giggled, “c’mon, let’s get you down.” He held his hands out, helping me down off the side. “We’re going back to Jaspers, are you coming?” He questioned as I jumped, a little uneasy on my feet as the boat rocked slightly.

“We’re going back to Jaspers? And not a club?!” I almost burst out laughing, out of everywhere to choose from we were going back to a house party- equivalent to afters? “Yeah, I don’t know why.” Lance shook his head, watching me for a second before scanning around the boat. When he turned away I stole a glimpse before mimicking his action of watching all our friend. The good majority of us had known each other for a good 10+ years, now we were all back in Monaco to celebrate nothing particular, it felt like a school reunion. “Aren’t you glad to be back with everyone?” I then nudged the Canadian who I’d known since being a child. “Yeah, it’s kinda weird. Everything feels normal again.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean…” I faintly muttered, gazing into the distance. “You’re so corny, you know!” I then teased, jabbing his side. “Hey, you asked!” He playfully knocked me back as we engaged in a gentle scuffle. “You’re the one person I hoped wasn’t coming to this party!” He joked as I gasped, “and you’re the one person I want to push overboard!” With a gentle shove back, Lance giggled cheekily, holding my arms still.

“Get your dirty hands off me. I don’t know where they’ve been.” I teased, firmly crossing my arms across my chest. “You don’t even wanna know, miss Horner.”

“You’re right, I don’t… I’m gonna go get a drink before we dock, you coming?” “Sure…”

Soon enough we docked, and the main bulk of us went to Jasper’s house. I mainly lingered around my closest girls, piling into the bathroom, sitting in the bathtub, having deep conversations in the tub one minute and then dancing the next. It was just like how it felt when we were all 16. I’d always eagerly tried to recreate my teenage years, missing the freedom and carefree attitude I always had, so the whole nice was like a free cure for any of my problems. At one point, Jasper and Kiran, butted heads. They were way too drunk, and you just know when their shirts off and their ego’s were inflated, there’d be trouble. “Nah bro, you’re still the same as school.” Jasper waved him off, Kiran frowning, squint growing as he got progressively more angry. Kiran and Jasper went to the same international school in the south of France, they always fought. They’d fight over girls, alcohol, cars, money, and when there was nothing to fight over they’d fight over nothing.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” The Italian responded as a few of us gathered, waiting for the entertainment to start. “You’re still a prick mate, you act like a fucking 16 year old.” “Oh, here we go…” Somebody muttered from besides me, I glanced up to see Lance and a smile grew. “What are they fighting over now?”

“Erm, something to do with shoes and alcohol bottles, I don’t even know.” I waved it off. “Nice.” Lance, along with about six more of us stood and watched the argument progress until the men were almost head butting one another.

“Maybe I should stop this now…” Lance comically sighed. “Or maybe I should wait for it to get physical.” Within seconds it got physical. “Oh shit.” Lance flew forwards and others attempted to break up the fight. It was comical, drunken fights always were so dramatic, it made me laugh. I stood there and laughed out loud, I must’ve looked so unhelpful but when masculine men got all fragile and crazy it was funny. The fight caused the party to end, probably at the right time, many people were staying there, but with my family’s house nearby, I thought it would be best just to head back. “Oh you’re leaving?!” My friend Molly exclaimed.

“I’m going to bed.” I yawned, my sobriety taking over and exhausting me. “What? You’re not staying over here?!” She exclaimed. “I was gonna go to my bed.” I was then met with a chorus of complaints pleading me to stay as it would be ‘just like old times’. What I didn’t expect was to be stuffed on a sheet on the floor in a room where the air-con was blasting me to death. I was in my underwear and one of Jasper’s shirts, trying to bunch up as much blanket as possible but Naomi, who I slept besides, rolled over and took them all. After an hour or so the sleep wouldn’t come, so I excused myself (silently) and just stood in the hallway shuddering slightly. I suppose it wasn’t too late to go home, it was nearing 4:30AM and sleep would be non existent, unless I found somebody who actually had a bed to themselves. I turned lightly seeing the door to Lance’s room on the bottom floor open, swiftly I patted down the stairs with a quiet giggle knowing I could bug him enough to sleep in the bed. We used to share all the time when we were younger, so to me it wasn’t such a big deal.

Creeping in, I nudged open the door to see Lance’s face lit up with the reflection of his face. “Hey..” he whispered, a smile growing as he dropped his phone to one side. “Can I come in?” I asked.

“Yeah, sure. Shut the door behind you.” He pushed himself up a little to reveal he was shirtless. Again, no big deal, right? I giggled, closing the door behind me as he patted the bed besides him. “Couldn’t sleep?” He questioned. “No, I was on the floor and Naomi was hogging the covers.” I tucked my legs up under me on the bed, facing him directly. “Unlucky. You cold? Come get under.” The Canadian hushed, budging up as I felt the relief of slipping under the blankets, warm from where he’d been laying.

“Why’re you awake?” I then questioned pulling them all the way up over my shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep. Hey, this is like old times again isn’t it?” He nudged softly, the warm of his arm brushing against the cool of mine with a hiss. “You’re so cold, c’mere.” He wrapped his arm around me, sinking down into the sheets as we borderline cuddled. “Now it’s like old times.” I pointed out as he giggled again. “Oh yeah? We used to do this a lot, didn’t we?” Expect now it felt different. Lance and I were no longer awkward and frigid 16 year olds, he had muscles, I had boobs, there was extra parts pushing against extra parts and it made me feel… different.

“I know, back when we were both frigid.” I whispered knocking into his chest which my arm laid across. Lance let out a laugh a little too loud in return. “We both were weren’t we..” He then sighed as I let out a giggle before a comfortable silence took over us. “This bed is so much comfier.” I muttered, staring into the darkness of the bedroom. Truthfully, there was something a lot more intimate about sharing a bed with Lance all these years later. “You’re a lot comfier than you used to be.” I nuzzled up, my chest pressing up against his side. “Me? Really, why?” “Muscles.” I squeezed at his bicep playfully as he swatted me away when the action must’ve been ticklish. “Yeah well, you’ve got tits now, didn’t you used to be like a waterboard?!” He fired back playfully as I choked out a gasp, attempting to push at him but his hands grasped mine.

“I had small ones, thank you very much!” Lance laughed at my response. “Oh, what the fuck.” He quickly spoke, arm falling back around me and resting softly on my upper back. “What?” I giggled, pushing up. Our faces were super close and for the first time in forever I felt something spark up inside of me. Lance’s smile softened as his eyes roamed over my face before down to my chest.

“Who’s shirt is that?” “My boyfriends.” I lied as Lance shifted quickly. “I’m kidding. It’s Jaspers!” My eyes widened. “Oh.” There was an evident relief on his face and in that moment I felt my knee knock against his leg. “I had no shirt to sleep in, but it’s kinda… uncomfortable.” The shirt was scratchy, it was drowning me and I most definitely couldn’t sleep in it. “Why don’t you take it off?” Lance glanced up and down to my propped up state. His words were quick and I could see the slight worry that twitched in his eye after he answered. “Take it off? Now?” My breath was hitched as the two of us stared back to each other.

“Yeah…” Lance didn’t break eye contact as my lips stretched out into a grin at his seriousness. “What? Shut the fuck up, I’m being serious.” He joked as I smirked down, fiddling with the hem of it.

“But I’m not wearing anything under…” “Oh you’re not?” Lance seemed on edge, eyes constantly dropping down. The peaks of my nipples were pressed up against the fabric and if he looked close I swore he could see the outline of my piercings.

“No…” I whispered gently as his free hand slid forwards, fiddling with the end of my shirt. It seemed to happen in an instant that my top was off and my breasts were exposed. I giggled, covering them slightly as I laid back, Lance propped to the side of me. “Don’t go all shy!” He chuckled. “I’m not, I’m not.” I pushed them together slightly, feeling Lances eyes fixated on them. I knew I was getting turned on, I wondered if he felt the same? There was an undeniable tension between us and I was shocked that we’d actually crossed the barrier of being ‘just friends’. “You’ve got really good tits.” His voice lowered, as I scanned over his body. “Your turn.” Except the only thing he was wearing was his underwear. With a smile, Lance pushed his hands under the hem of his Calvin Kleins, freeing himself but he was hidden under the duvet. “What’re we doing right now?” He quickly laughed to himself as I giggled, arching my back slightly. “Is this weird?” He then muttered, hand disappearing under the covers. “I don’t know, is it?”

“No… what’d you- uh, want me to do?” Lance quietly asked, almost shyly. “I don’t want you to do anything.” I teased, giggling as I glanced down. “You just said take them off!” By the looks of it they were already half off. “I know!” “Fuck it… now I’m fully naked and you’re not!” He pointed out. “You want me to take my underwear off?” My heart was beating rapidly as I laid against the pillow, gazing up to him. His hand brushed against my naked waist, resulting in me swallowing harshly.

“Yeah, I want you to..” his voice was so gentle I barely heard it. I looked down, my hands sliding under the band of my thongs feeling his hand meeting mine and pushing them off, exposing me completely. I felt the blood rush to my core as I squeezed my legs together, looking back up to him with a smile.

“What do you wanna do now?” I lightly asked. “I dunno- you wanna kiss me?” To this I burst out laughing. “Fine! We won’t kiss!” He chuckled, placing a hand on my stomach.

“Wouldn’t that make it weird?” I dumbly asked, becoming lost at the sensation of his large hand sprawled across my stomach and hip bone. “What and this wouldn’t?” He muttered, fingers grazing over my skin as I inhaled deeply.

“No.” I swallowed, glancing down to where Lance’s hand had slipped off me and onto himself. “What’re you having a wank or something?” I teased. “No, I’m just… I’m fucking hard.” He admitted as I felt a blush rise on my face.

“Why?”

“Why? Cos you’re naked and fucking hot as fuck right now.” He spoke as I smiled, “you wanna touch yourself?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Lance borderline whined as I felt his movements begin under the covers. I bit down on my finger, giggling deviously as butterflies erupted in my lower stomach. I didn’t think I’d been this turned on in a long long time- and it was over one of my lifelong friends? I always knew Lance was hot, but not this hot.

“Touch yourself as well, it’s only fair.” He panted out a laugh as my fingers slipped down. The minute I made contact with my clit I felt relief, applying pressure to my throbbing pussy. “Fuck.” Lance uttered, mesmerised as his eyes wandered over me, his jaw slightly hung slack as he jittered as his hand moved a little quicker.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…” I snickered, hearing him hum out a laugh. “Can I touch you?” He then questioned, making me slightly nervous. “Yeah.” God, I wanted him to, the room felt red hot with tension. Lance’s hand slid over my tits, giving them a squeeze slightly before moving down to my pussy. He didn’t waste anytime, I was getting wetter by the second, and when his fingers touched me I let out a soft gasp at the sensation. My best friend was touching me so intimately, the more I watched him, the more shocked I was, it felt fucking great, the adrenaline was pumping inside of me and I felt desperate for Lance. I was trying to keep quiet, and also keep my composure, but Lance was too fucking good at this. “I need to taste you, fuck.” He shifted, sliding to the end of the bed as I covered my mouth with my arm, choking out a moan.

Lance was like a fucking god as he ate me out. His mouth was so warm against my pussy and he physically moaned as he licked and sucked over my clit. “Fuck- I can’t believe you’re so good at this.”

“Yeah… you wanna return the favour?” He teased. “Yeah.” I seriously whined. “Yeah?” He kissed my upper pubic bone as I lifted my head, nodding with a gentle breath. Lance switched our positions around, scraping my hair back gently as I smiled, shyly moving forwards.

“Is this weird?” I asked, his cock literally in my hand. “No.” He seemed tense. “Just go slow or I might bust too quick.”

“Really?” I slowly tugged on his member, teasing over the smooth skin as he let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, don’t laugh.” He nudged my shoulder as I giggled, moving down and wrapping my lips around his cock. Hearing Lance moan as I pleasured him with my mouth was something I never expected. It felt so dirty and raunchy, it turned me on even more. The way his arms trembled as he gripped the bed sheets, sliding his fingers through my hair, or when he pleaded for me to slow down.

“Fuck, don’t cum!” I laughed, swiping my thumb against the corner of my mouth. “You’re so fucking good at that, oh my god…” he sounded so turned on, his voice was low and sultry, pulling me by the arms on top of him. “I wanna fuck you, can I fuck you?” He was wide eyes, scanning over my own.

“Yeah.” I was breathless, reaching for his cock as I eased it inside myself, the two of us letting out a sigh in pleasure. It had been so long since anybody had fucked me, and the fact it was Lance made everything feel 10x better.

“Oh my god.” I moaned as I bounced ontop of him. “Oh fuck, baby, bounce on my cock, like that.”

“Lance.” I whined in response as he hummed, holding onto either side of my hips. “You feel so good.” His head tipped back with a moan as I lifted my hips, bouncing on my knees on top of his cock.

“So do you.” I panted, the sound of our skin slapping and the bed creaking filling the room. We continued like that for a few more minutes, Lance pulled me down, our faces inches apart as he fucked into me. “Fuck, I’ve needed this so bad.” He groaned, his hips slapping into mine as I let out an open mouthed moan, his hand sliding up the back of my head.

“Kiss me, fuck y/n, kiss me.” Lance begged as I pressed my lips against his firmly. It felt so good, the kiss was so heated and desperate, it spurred the sex on further.

“Fuck, my legs.” I groaned, “lazy.” Lance teased as I scoffed. “Shut up or I’ll stop.” He smirked, flipping us around as the bed creaked under out movements. There was movement outside the other room, footsteps drawing closer and moving past the room as Lance and I stared back to each other in amusement. “Sh, sh, sh.” He hushed, looking towards the door. I giggled, bucking my hips up playfully.

“They’re going to the bathroom.” He whispered, turning down and laughing, purposefully pinning his hips up against mine to the bed. The movements started again, slowly. I could hear whoever was in the toilet flushing the toilet and the run of the tap, until we heard the bedroom door close again it was a mission to stay quiet. “Fuck me properly now, fuck me.” I pleaded with Lance, wrapping my arms over his shoulder as he spread my legs wider, beginning to thrust into me once again. Our quiet moans filled the room, his cock pushed up deep inside of me as his balls slapped against my skin.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this, oh my god.” He laughed as I giggled, pulling him in for another kiss. “I wanted you for so long.” He admitted as I let out another moan, muffling it with another kiss. “Fuck me, fuck me.” The sex continued, in doggy, spooning, back in missionary, it felt like we were at it for ages.

“Can you cum like this?” Lance questioned, voice on edge as he held me close. “Not like this.” I admitted, he didn’t hesitate to move down and pleasure me with his mouth again.

It didn’t take long before he was pushing me over the edge, giving me the first ever orgasm from oral ever. I felt like I was in bliss, and after a few more thrusts inside of me, Lance was jerking himself over my stomach and tits, spilling his cum with a bitten back groan.

“Fuck, fuck.” The Canadian man tossed his head back, falling forwards on top of me, kissing me deeply as I hummed against his lips, scraping my hand through his messy hair. “You were so fucking good.” I cooed as he let out a husky hum, continuing to keep his lips against mine.

“So were you. Fuck, I’ve been in love with you for so long…” his words startled me, a warmth spreading through me as I gasped out. “Have you?” He pushed up on top of me, lingering there as he nodded shyly.

“I think- I think I love you too…”

[justagalwhowrites]

New in Town - Ch. 7: First Double Date

You and Joel go out with Tommy and Maria. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-6 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 5.5k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“I swear to God Joel, if you make fun of me…” 

“I’m not gonna make fun of you, Beautiful.” 

“Oh you say that now.” 

“I’m really not,” he laughed a little.  

“I did like… research and shit,” you said from the other side of your bathroom door. “I Googled, OK?” 

“I’m sure you look incredible,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Just come out here.” 

You sighed.

“Fine.” 

You knew you shouldn’t be nervous with Joel and, usually, you weren’t. But this felt a little different. You opened the bathroom door and came into your bedroom, doing a little spin as you did to show him both sides of the outfit. His face shifted from a smile to something almost hungry as he looked you up and down from his spot on the edge of your bed. He checked his watch. 

“What?” You frowned. 

“Just seein’ how much time we have until Tommy and Maria get here,” he said, looking back at you. “Think if we’re quick and leave that little skirt on…” 

You laughed and all but jumped on his lap, kissing him. 

You were going on your first double date with Joel, with his brother and sister-in-law of all people. You’d met Tommy and Maria at Sarah’s cookout a few weeks earlier but hadn’t seen them since. You had, however, heard plenty about them since then. Especially after Joel told you that his brother knew about the two of you. 

Your eyes had gone wide when he’d told you that. 

“Are you sure it was a good idea to tell him quite yet?” You asked. “We haven’t told Sarah and they’re pretty close…” 

“Yeah, I didn’t… uh…” Joel awkwardly cupped the back of his neck. “Didn’t exactly… tell him.” 

You frowned. 

“What do you…” 

“Maria… might have heard us in the bathroom at the cookout.” 

“What!” You yelped, eyes wide. “Oh my GOD, Joel!” 

“It’s fine…” 

You groaned and collapsed all the way down onto his couch, burying your face in the arm of it. 

“They must think I’m some kind of ridiculous slut!” Your voice was muffled by the cushion. “This is mortifying…” 

“It’s really not that bad,” he rubbed your thigh soothingly. “Really. They like you! A lot! And they kept sayin’ they’d never seen me this happy. Honestly, Tommy was just happy to see me with someone I wanted to fuck in a bathroom.”

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned. “Well, it’s been great, Joel, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to change my name and move to Antarctica…” 

He laughed and tugged you over until your head was on his shoulder instead of the couch. 

“Sounds cold,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ll have to find a coat.” 

If you’d been falling for Joel before, you’d fully fallen for him over the past two weeks, ever since he’d found out everything about your childhood and your dad. 

You’d almost expected him to look for an out once it all settled in. That, when all the baggage had been sitting there for long enough for him to take inventory of it all, he’d run. 

But he hadn’t. He’d done the opposite. He spent that weekend holed up with you. Making you dinner, holding you close while watching Sharknado, changing the locks on your front door and installing a doorbell camera so you could see if he stopped by. He dropped you off at work Monday morning and picked you up that afternoon, heading straight to a car dealership after handing you a small pile of print outs. You frowned, looking at them. 

“What…” 

“So I took what I was asking you about cars over the weekend and found some good options for you,” he said. “Four of ‘em are at one dealership so I figured we could start there unless these are really not what you’re lookin’ for…” 

You flipped through the pages, all cars that were makes and models you were already thinking about wanting to look at, just tracked down at places around you instead of an abstract thought in your head. 

You teared up, a hand covering your mouth. 

Joel frowned. 

“We don’t have to do this today,” he said. “I don’t mind drivin’ you for a bit, happy to do it if you need a little more time or just aren’t up for it or…” 

“No one’s ever done something like this for me,” you dabbed at the corners of your eyes, trying to keep the tears from actually falling and ruining your mascara. 

“Told you I’ve got you, Beautiful,” Joel said. “Meant it.” 

You ended up buying a car Tuesday, Joel not a fan of how the salesman you talked to at the first dealership seemed incapable of talking directly to you and instead looked at Joel when answering all your questions. 

“That’s just how it is,” you shrugged as you headed back to his truck. 

“Don’t matter,” Joel said, opening your door for you. “It’s bullshit. We can always come back if we come up empty but you shouldn’t give your money to that jackass.” 

The second dealership had a saleswoman who would actually talk to you and not your boyfriend - boyfriend? - and ended up getting you a car with even nicer features than the one your dad had totaled for about the same price. You dropped Joel’s truck at your place and you drove the two of you to a restaurant you’d found on a local food blog, running your hand over the dashboard when at red lights. 

“Happy with the car?” Joel asked, smiling almost proudly. It was one of the cars he’d found and printed the information on. 

“It’s perfect,” you beamed at him. “Thank you so much for just… everything the past few days. This is the best I’ve ever felt after a visit from my dad.” 

You were feeling pretty good on Wednesday when you got a Nest alert on your phone. Your dad was standing at your front door, trying the key he still had. You took a screenshot and texted Joel. 

“Guess who,” you wrote. “Glad you changed the locks.” 

He replied almost immediately. 

“I’m staying over,” he said. “Got his parole officer’s number?” 

When your dad came by that night and actually rang the bell, you stayed just out of sight, watching the reflection of what happened in a mirror on your entry way wall as Joel answered the door. 

“Oh,” he said when he saw Joel. “I’m sorry, I must have misremembered the apartment…” 

“You didn’t,” Joel said, his voice cold. “Know exactly who you are. You’re not welcome here. Come by again and I’m calling the cops and you’d better hope they get their hands on you before I do. She’s blocked your number.” He handed your dad a business card. “If it’s an emergency, you can call me but you’re stayin’ the fuck away from her. You had your chance, you blew it. Now go, before I make you go.” 

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are or what my daughter’s told you…” 

“I’m her boyfriend,” he snapped. “And she’s told me plenty. Was probably nicer than you deserved about it, too, knowing her. Last chance to leave on your own.” 

Your dad was silent for a moment. 

“Take care of her?” He said quietly. 

“I will,” Joel said, tone softer. “Do a better job of it than you did.” 

“Good,” he said. “Tell her bye for me.” 

Joel closed the door and the second you could reach him you threw your arms around his neck, pressing your whole body against him. You kissed him, hard and frantic, tugging him back toward your bedroom as you did. You all but ripped his clothes off of him as you stripped down yourself, racing to get him inside you, not really able to calm down until he was. 

“Fuck, Beautiful,” he groaned, his hands on your thighs as you straddled his hips, his cock deep inside. “What’s this for?” 

“Needed you,” you said, dropping your forehead to his as you panted for breath. 

You were sure you loved him then. You weren’t sure how to say it yet but you were sure you felt it. 

Which is part of why you were really trying for this double date. You were in love with Joel, you wanted to impress his brother and sister-in-law. The two of you hadn’t really talked about it but, ever since he called himself your boyfriend to your father, that’s what he was. And you liked it that way. You wanted him to want to bring you places. 

Including University of Texas football games. 

Even though you knew fuck all about college football. You’d basically spent your entire college career studying or working, going to sporting events hadn’t been too high on your to do list. 

So you’d done some research, looked up what people wore to things like college football games. You decided to go all out and settled on a denim mini-skirt, a v-neck University of Texas shirt, cowboy boots and little orange longhorn temporary tattoos on your cheeks. 

“Wonderin’ if we should just cancel on them,” Joel kissed down your neck to your cleavage. “Look too good, don’t want to share you.” 

“Yeah, we’re not canceling on your brother so you can get me naked,” you laughed a little. “But you can get me naked later.” 

“Good luck stoppin’ me,” he nipped at your chin. 

Your doorbell rang and Joel groaned, dropping his head to your chest.

“Tommy has always had terrible timing,” he sighed. 

You laughed and got off his lap. 

“C’mon you horn dog,” you teased. “Let’s go watch the sportsball.” 

“One thing first,” he reached under your bed and pulled out a straw cowboy hat. “Thought you might need one of these to complete the look.” 

You squealed and grabbed the hat, popping it on your head. 

“How long has this been under my bed?” You gaped at him. 

He smiled a little. 

“Snuck it in the other day,” he said. “You’re a Texan now so you gotta have at least one.” 

“I love it!” You looked in the mirror and adjusted it a little. “Thank you!” 

You tipped it at him.  

“How’s it look?” 

He smiled. 

“Beautiful. Just… Beautiful.” 

Tommy’s truck was loaded down with coolers and a grill, your eyes going a little wide at it all. 

“How many people are going to be there?” You asked Joel as you got in the back seat of the truck. 

“It’s a tailgate,” he shrugged. “Can never tell.” 

“Give Tommy an excuse to drink while grilling for a crowd and he’ll take it,” Maria smiled, twisting around in the front seat to actually face you. “Good to see you again!” 

“You too!” You smiled, trying to resist the urge to jump out of the car when you thought about the fact that she heard you going down on Joel. 

“I’m excited to have another woman around for this whole thing,” she smiled as Tommy started the truck. “They do this once a year and I swear it’s like they pack a whole season’s worth of football stuff into one day.” 

“I keep tellin’ ya, get me season tickets and we’ll spread it out,” Tommy teased. 

“You think I want to do this every weekend?” Maria asked, incredulous. 

Tommy scoffed. 

“Who wouldn’t?” 

Maria gave you a look as if to say “See what I deal with?” And you smiled as Joel took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

You helped get the tailgate set up before settling into a folding camp chair with a beer next to Maria, the two of you watching as Joel and Tommy put meat on the grill, serious looks on their faces as they worked. 

“So,” Maria smiled, taking a sip of beer. “You and Joel, huh?” 

“Me and Joel,” you nodded, smiling a little back. “Not too insane, is it?” 

“I mean, the circumstances might be a little odd but otherwise,” she shrugged. “He likes you.” 

“I sure hope so,” you laughed, taking a drink of beer yourself and looking out at the crowd that was gathering to tailgate. The truck across from you was setting up a game of cornhole. Someone a few trucks down had started playing country music at top volume. “I’m a little fucked if he doesn’t at this point.” 

She laughed, too. 

“Look, I’ll be honest,” she said. “I know Joel better than most sisters-in-law probably care to know their brother-in-law. Him and Tommy… You marry one and you get the other, too. Package deal and all that.” 

You nodded slowly, watching the two of them work while talking conspiratorially themselves. 

“I’ve never, not once, seen him show this kind of interest in anyone,” she continued. “Honestly, Tommy and I figured he’d be single forever. Maybe a date here and there but… It never really seemed like a priority for him. He’s never even mentioned a woman before let alone brought her around.

“You seem to make him happy. Really happy. And I want to support him. But… I need to know that you’re in this for the long haul. That man doesn’t get attached lightly but he’s attached to you. Hell, he had me trying to interpret your texts a few weeks back, trying to make sure he didn’t fuck up…” 

You winced. 

“I was dealing with some family stuff,” you said. “I should have just talked to him about it from the get go and…” 

“Hey, I get it,” she cut you off. “Not like you’d been seeing each other long, I wouldn’t have told some guy I’d just met anything all that personal, either. I just want to make sure you care, that you know he’s not just screwing around with you. Not that he’s said that but I know the guy. Tommy knows the guy. This is a first and I’d rather not watch his heart get stomped on.” 

You looked at Joel. He was laughing at something Tommy said, his smile wide and beautiful. You couldn’t help but smile, too. Just looking at the guy made you happy. 

“I’m in it,” you said, still watching him. “Trust me, I’m very in it.” 

“Good,” Maria said. You thought you could hear the smile on her voice. “Because I really do need another girl around these two, they’re insufferable.” 

Once the grill was going, Joel put his arms around your shoulders and led you around the tailgate. Tommy’s set up, you soon realized, was relatively modest. A few people had come with campers and had big TVs set up outside, chairs on rugs out front watching other games from around the country. The two of you stopped and played ladder ball with someone who worked with Joel, him smiling proudly as he introduced you as “his girlfriend,” making your heart soar. You even ran into one of your copywriters as he chugged a beer shirtless with an orange X painted on his chest. 

“Oh shit, hey Boss!” He laughed. “Good to see you! Who’s your friend?” 

“This is my boyfriend, Joel,” you smiled. It was the first time you’d gotten to say that. Joel beamed and the two shook hands. “Joel, this is Steve, one of the copywriters at work.” 

“Want a beer?” Steve asked. “I’ll give you two if you promise to forget you saw me like this.” 

You laughed back. 

“Don’t worry, Steve,” you said. “I’ll be doing my best to forget that, anyway.” 

“So not all these people are going to the game?” You asked as you walked slowly back toward Tommy’s truck. Joel’s arm was draped over your shoulders again. 

“Nope,” Joel said. “People just come out to party. There’ll be a lot of people around the TVs later.” 

“Football is weird,” you scrunched your nose and Joel laughed. “But I’ll still watch it with you.”

“Oh really?” He teased. 

“Yup,” you smiled up at him. “But only because you’re hot.” 

He laughed. 

“Better get in the game time while I can, then.” 

When you made it back to the truck, food was ready (“Still got a lot to learn about grilling a great burger, Tommy,” Joel teased his brother, who just rolled his eyes) and you and Joel lost at cornhole to Tommy and Maria. 

“Do people really play stuff like that all the time?” You gaped at Tommy after he sent another bag directly into the hole on the opposite board. Yours were scattered on the ground around it. 

“We’ve got a set in our backyard,” Tommy said after he punched the air in victory. “You and Joel will just have to practice, don’t know if he can handle me kicking his ass.” 

By the time the game started, you’d almost forgotten that you’d come there to watch a football game, having so much fun in the parking lot outside that it seemed like the main attraction. 

You tried to mimic how other people reacted to the events on the field, not really understanding any of it but having fun watching Joel have fun. It was about half way through the first quarter when Joel leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You don’t understand any of this, do you?” He asked. 

You winced. You’d tried to watch some informational videos on YouTube and read some basic explainers of the game over the past week but it was like it was in a different language, you hadn’t been able to absorb any of it. 

“Never had anyone to explain it to me as a kid and never hung out with anyone who was into it as an adult,” you replied. “So no, not a damn thing. But it’s still fun!” 

“Here,” he put his hand on your waist and pointed toward the lineup of men on the field. “We’re on offense right now, that means we’re trying to score and we’ve got the ball. It’s second and eight…” 

Joel kindly, patiently, walked you through the basics, going back over things when he could tell you were confused or had forgotten something when it happened on the field. 

“It’s really OK,” you said after a few minutes. “I don’t want you to spend all the time you’re supposed to be having fun talking to me…” 

“Talking to you is fun,” he replied. “I’d rather talk to you all the time than watch any game. And I want you to have fun, too. Which I know you won’t if you don’t understand what’s going on because you feel better when you know things.” 

You looked up at him, at his warm smile and soft eyes and the one curl that had broken away from the rest to start curving over his forehead, and you couldn’t help it. For a moment, the feeling overwhelmed you and it just spilled out of you before you could stop it. 

“I love you,” you said before you realized you said it. 

Then your eyes went wide and your face fell and you scrambled to take it back. It was too soon to be saying this to him, you’d only known the man a few weeks and things were still insanely complicated, you’d barely figured out that you were in a full blown relationship let alone ready to bring something like love into the mix. It didn’t matter that you felt it and that you wanted to say it, it wasn’t the right time yet.

“Shit. Ignore that, please ignore that, pretend I didn’t say anything, I don’t want…” 

“I love you, too,” he cut you off, smiling so big his whole face lit up with it. 

You just blinked at him for a moment. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Yeah, I do. I really, really do.” 

He tipped your hat up and kissed you, his arm sliding around you to pull you flush against his front. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding tight to him, never wanting to stop feeling just like this. 

“Look!” Maria patted your shoulder urgently. “You’re on the kiss cam!” 

You pulled away from Joel just in time to see yourselves on the giant screen and you laughed, going back to kiss him again. 

***

“I’m glad you two seem to have figured your shit out,” Tommy had told him while they set up the grill. “She really does seem great.” 

“She is,” Joel said, watching you talk with Maria, looking so damn pretty in your little skirt and boots. “Fuck, she’s incredible.” 

“Anyone who can actually get you to feel something is a winner in my book,” Tommy replied, hooking up the propane tank. “Not sure what’s thicker, your skull or the space around your heart.” 

Joel laughed but he knew his brother had a point. He hadn’t been in a relationship - a real one - in a very long time. It had been even longer since he’d felt anything close to this for anyone. He’d gone from falling in love with you to just being in love with you and it had happened so quickly it was hard for him to even see it at first. 

He’d just known it when your father had shown up at your door that day. Joel knew what he was after - some other way to manipulate you, he was sure - and it made his blood boil. He had to consciously stop himself from hitting the man. The only reason he didn’t was because he knew it would hurt you if he did. But he knew he had to protect you, had to be the one standing in between you and the man who’d done nothing but neglect and harm you your entire life. 

His whole body burned with it. He wished he could have gone back in time somehow and protected you then, too. Made it so you didn’t have to go through any of it and stand between you and anyone who had ever so much as looked at you wrong. None of them deserved you. Neither did he, for that matter, but he could at least protect you from the worst of them. 

He knew he loved you then. He couldn’t conceive of how anyone could look at you and do anything that would willfully hurt you, how anyone could look at you and see anything but one of the greatest things the world had ever let happen. 

But he didn’t want to scare you off, so he kept it to himself, instead just doing everything he could to take care of you, get you to spend some time with him. 

It turned out, he didn’t need to try that hard. It seemed like you were just as eager to see him as he was to see you. 

You texted him over lunch on a day you were working from home, a picture of all the makings for mac and cheese and a BluRay of Jupiter Ascending, a movie Joel had heard was laughably bad and he’d been meaning to watch at some point. 

“Your place or mine?” You asked. 

Joel smiled. 

“Wherever you are, Beautiful, I’ll be there.”

You asked to come to his place so you could actually get out of your house for a bit and you showed up not long after Joel had gotten out of the shower, a pan of macaroni and cheese ready to go in the oven and a grocery bag over your arm with all the fixings for Bloody Marys. 

“I. Found. Bacon. Vodka,” your eyes were wide and excited. “It’s going to be amazing!” 

You were right, it was amazing. Everything with you was amazing. 

Because he loved you. 

“You told her yet?” Tommy asked as they say next to each other on the gate of his truck during lunch. 

“Told who what?” Joel asked, looking down at his phone for the umpteenth time since his lunch break started. You’d texted him a picture of a rather pathetic looking sandwich. 

“This food truck’s a bust,” you said. “Feeling very let down. I require real food. Dinner?” 

Joel was about to type out a response when you sent a selfie from what had to be a bathroom stall at your office, your shirt unbuttoned an extra button from what it had been when you’d gone your separate ways that morning. 

“In case you needed motivation,” you wrote. 

“Tell your girlfriend that you’re in love with her,” Tommy said. 

Joel frowned and actually looked up from his phone. 

“I didn’t…” 

“Don’t need to say it,” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m not blind and I might not be a genius but I ain’t that dumb. You’ve got it bad.”

Joel glared at him for a second. 

“S’too early,” he muttered. “Don’t wanna scare her off.” 

“You’re practically living with this woman,” he said. “She brought steak to your house the other night. Besides the blip, what’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing her since you started dating?” 

Joel was happy that, after the mall incident, Tommy was understanding without Joel needing to be too specific about what happened with your father. He’d just told Tommy “It was a tough family thing, makes our shit look like child’s play.” Tommy just said “Damn, poor girl, shit’s rough” and had only ever called it “the blip” from then on. 

“Just a work day, really,” Joel said. 

“Don’t think it’s too early for shit, man,” Tommy said. “Just don’t fuck it up. And figure out how to tell your kid because I’m shit at keeping secrets.”

Joel sighed and nodded to his brother before texting you back. 

“Never need much motivation with you,” he said. “Can’t let you starve on me. Come over, I’ll grill you a burger.”

When you fell asleep naked in his bed that night, he just watched you breathe, wondering how to tell you how he felt and how to tell his daughter that he was head over heels for her best friend. 

So when you’d all but blurted it out at him at the game, it was a relief. He’d been terrified it would slip out of him for almost two weeks now. That he’d hand you something, you’d say “thank you” and, instead of “you’re welcome” he’d say “I love you.” That he’d kiss you on the way out the door in the morning and instead of “goodbye” it would be “I love you.” That he’d be looking at your perfect face as you rode him and he’d gasp “I love you” as he came deep inside. 

It was a relief to know you felt it, too. It was a relief to say it out loud. It was a relief to feel the sense of security that settled into him at those words, the sense that this wasn’t something that would be easily undone. That this was something he could be safe in feeling, that he could rely on the connection he had with you that had gone from tenuous to vital so fast it made his head spin. 

The rest of the game, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You were either perched on his leg or standing right in front of him for the rest of the game, his hands on your waist, pressing his lips into your neck and cheek, each kiss just another “I love you” in his mind. He couldn’t even tell you the score by the end of the game, only knowing that UT won because everyone else around them seemed almost as happy as he was. 

Joel was eager to say his goodbyes to Tommy and Maria when they dropped the two of you off at your apartment. It’s not like he didn’t always want you - he always wanted you - but it was urgent now, a driving need more than a want. 

You, it seemed, were on the same wavelength. The front door was barely closed when you took fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him against you, kissing him deeply as you walked backwards deeper into your home. 

He pulled your hat off first, tossing it on your loveseat on the way back to your bedroom. You went from using his shirt to hold him close to tugging it up and over his head as he did the same with yours. 

In the bedroom, you turned so he was against the bed as you deftly opened his pants and pushed them and his boxer briefs down and off. You nudged him down onto the bed and looked him in the eyes as you slipped your panties down your legs, leaving on the little miniskirt that Joel had so wanted to fuck you in before the game. 

You straddled him, your arms resting on his shoulders, his hands on your back, fingers spread wide to touch as much of you as he could. He slowly, almost reverently, removed your bra, cupping your breasts for a moment before holding onto you again. You aligned your entrance with his cock, the head of him just inside of you. 

He held your gaze, his nose brushing yours, breathing the same air you were. He looked deep in your eyes as you started sinking onto him, your breath hitching as you did. 

“I love you,” he breathed, mouth so close to yours his lips brushed your own when he spoke. 

“Joel,” you managed, your body soft and warm against him as you took him into yourself. “I love you, I…” 

You gasped as he bottomed out within you and he clutched onto you, needing to be as close to you as he could possibly be. 

The two of you just looked at each other for a moment, your skin on his, his cock buried deep within you. 

He realized then that he’d never been inside someone he was in love with before you. He’d tried with Sarah’s mother but her resentment kept any real affection from becoming too deep. Everything before her has been for fun, he hadn’t been looking for anything permanent. No relationship had lasted long enough to actually fall for anyone since. 

It was an intense thing, knowing you loved him back while being a part of you. You always felt incredible, better than anything or anyone else he’d ever felt, but it was different now and he never wanted to be anywhere but with you. 

You took a deep, shaky breath before rising slowly over him. He could feel every inch of you, the tight grip of every ridge, the wet heat of you holding him perfectly inside. He kissed you as you started to ride him, moaning into your mouth, sinking his fingers into your soft skin. 

Your skirt bunched around your hips and you ground your clit against him and he relished it, loving the feeling of you finding your pleasure with his body. 

He met you stroke for stroke until you came over him with a whimper, kissing him deeper, pussy gushing over his cock. 

Joel moved you below him, settling between your thighs, his body still tight to yours for a moment before he separated from you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, breasts heaving. He slid a hand up your stomach, drinking you in, eyes lingering on the place disappeared into you, your sex swollen and slick. 

“Want to see you,” he panted, moving his hands to the inside of your knees, slipping them over your thighs until one thumb found your clit and the other slipped around your hip to your lower back, your sexy little skirt pushed up around your waist now. “Want to see you come for me.” 

He started driving into you, pulling back almost reluctantly to thrust back as deep as he could reach, watching it move through your body, the ripple of your skin, the bounce of your breasts, the desperate look on your face as he worked your clit, your channel tightening around him. 

“That’s it,” he panted as you ground your hips back against him when he thrust deep. “Are you close, Beautiful? That perfect little pussy about to come for me?”

You nodded and moaned, one of your hands flying to the bed and tangling in the blanket. 

“Good,” he said, all but breathless. “Need you to come all over me, need to feel you come, need to watch you come. Just let go baby, just come for me.” 

He watched your orgasm take hold half a second before he felt it, your face lost in pleasure, your clit throbbing as he felt you come apart around his cock. 

Joel fought to hold his own orgasm off for at least moment, wanting to enjoy your pleasure for as long as he could. But he didn’t last long, thrusting deep and all but collapsing on top of you as the peak of your climax triggered his own. 

Once he’d come down from his high enough to be able to think, he rolled onto his side and took you with him, still buried deep in you, kissing you gently as he held your face in his hand. 

“I love you, Joel,” you said softly. “I’ve never really said that to anybody but I love you.” 

“I love you,” he said, letting the feeling wash over him as he was so impossibly close to you. “I love you so much.” 

As he fell asleep in your bed with you in his arms, he wasn’t sure he’d ever meant anything more. 

Next Chapter

A/N: AHHHH THEY SAID IT!

I just love these two, they're so cute working through their relationship shit. They're getting there, they really are!

Thank you for being here and for following their story. It's been so fun to share with you! Love you!!

[kaydenverse]

grocery emergency

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader x john "soap" mctavish

18+ MINORS DNI

genre: smut with fluff mixed in

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i swear i'm trying to get more works out i've just had a rough start to my year so bare with me for the time being lmao but enjoy this that's been sitting in my google docs for like a month

content warnings: gender neutral reader, phone sex, excessive swearing, teasing, switch reader, switch simon, switch johnny, quickie, price is so done, gaz is a little shit

summary: why the fuck haven’t we as a society figured out how to teleport yet? johnny’s got somewhere he needs to be and it’s not standing in a hallway on the phone on base. 

“how much longer are we gonna be here, cap?” johnny questions as he lightly taps a stack of papers on the coffee table in front of him and straightens them out. he neatly sets them back down on the table before sitting up a little to stretch his back. 

johnny sits cross legged on the floor in front of the polished coffee table. although it would probably be better for his back to sit on the cushioned black leather couch opposite of him where kyle had been sitting before he went to grab a file price had asked for. but still he swears the floor is more comfortable. his tailbone is starting to hurt though, he realizes.

he’s still going to sit on the floor

“i’ve got one more folder and gaz is going to bring another one in a couple minutes,” price sighs, his office chair creaking as he leans back into it. “we should be done after those and you'll be free to go, son.” johnny’s heart swells a bit at the nickname but instead of telling price that, he huffs which makes the captain chuckle.

the five of you had gotten back from a successful mission in moscow, just a simple recon, a few days ago. now you had to do the boring parts of your jobs, the long debriefings and the piles of paperwork.

you and ghost had remained tucked away at the top of an abandoned building with your sniper guns to cover soap, gaz, and price while they had raided the warehouse across the street. because the three of them had been in the main action, naturally, they had more paperwork to cover than the two who kept look-out from a distance. 

but don’t get anyone wrong, of course the two of you still did a phenomenal job of dropping any and all of the strays who tried to escape the wrath of your three teammates. they were sorely mistaken when a bullet from your gun would lodge itself into their necks. 

johnny sighs as he picks another folder up and flips it open. his mind begins to wander before he’s even gotten halfway through the first page.

he’s thinking about this morning.

again. 

-

in all honesty, earlier that morning, johnny had deeply considered turning his car back around and called in sick because of how desperate and clingy his two partners had been while he had gotten ready. he to go in and finish up some leftover paperwork with price. he had swatted both your hands and simon’s away from dripping past the waistband of his pants. 

“stop it.” johnny said sternly as he grabbed your wrist when your fingers began to work their way down his happy trail yet again. “i’ll be gone for barely half a day, maybe less, we’re almost done with everything. you can wait.” he snickers. you groan in defeat and slump forward so your right cheek presses up against his back. simon leans in the doorway of the bathroom with his arms crossed over his chest. 

he would gladly stay and let your hands wander all over him but he knows he’ll be at least an hour late because johnny likes to take his time with you in the mornings. price wouldn’t be too excited about the late arrival. not after the last time that happened.

“i’ll just fuck simon then.” you resort, your voice still laced with drowsiness from having woken up to johnny’s 7 am alarm. you still keep your arms locked around johnny’s waist and one corner of simon’s mouth perks up at the suggestion. the messy blond hair atop Simon’s head that curls around the tops of his ears and the sleepy look in his eyes only makes your sexual frustration grow. 

“no.” johnny says, plain and simple. he combs a hand through his mohawk. “wait until i get back home, both of you.” he locks eyes with simon through the mirror he’s standing in front of. 

simon hums with his head held high as he strides over to the two of you. he kisses the top of johnny’s head, catching a whiff of johnny’s eucalyptus scented shampoo. he then kisses the top of your head that smell like your own shampoo. he makes sure what he murmurs to you is loud enough that johnny can hear too.

“you can fuck me all you’d like once he’s left for work, darling.” simon’s sleepiness adds an extra gruffness to his already deep voice. that alone nearly made johnny call price and ask to do the paperwork tomorrow.

nearly. 

“sure, go ahead.” johnny turns around to face the two of you. “but if you do so and i find out, i won't let either of you cum for a week.” the almost cold tone of his voice as he speaks and the cocking of his head makes you go weak in the knees and simon grins. “and i always find out.” 

“not always.” simon says in a very matter of fact way. the grin that plasters across johnny’s face is devilish. if simon hadn’t grabbed ahold of your hip when he’d kissed your head, you’re almost sure that your knees would’ve completely given out from how wonderfully taunting johnny looked. 

“i pay good attention to detail, lieutenant, i always know.” he gives you a peck on your lips then simon’s before slipping out of the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day. 

-

johnny is pulled out of his thoughts when his phone begins to vibrate on the table. normally he would  let it send whoever had called to voicemail due to his current task but his heart jumps when he sees your contact name and the contact picture of you smiling softly at the camera. in that photo, he can tell you're looking at him and not the camera because of the look of adoration on your face. 

he glances up at price who nods to let him take the call. you don’t often call him when he’s at the office and you’re home. you’d usually just text him and let him respond when he can so he assumes it must be important if you’re calling. 

“hey, what’s up-“ johnny is almost immediately cut off by you speaking. 

“can si and i please fuck? we were going to wait until you got home, i swear to god we were, but i feel like i’m going to fucking explode right fucking now. you can stay on the phone if you want to.” you’re so straight to the point that a cackle from simon can be heard through the phone. 

johnny is ridden speechless for a few seconds at such a forward request. he can hear the desperation in your words, you’re not even trying to be subtle at all. he blinks before he speaks again. 

“sorry cap, grocery emergency.” johnny stands up to excuse himself. price is a tad confused but lets him go to solve the problem. johnny eyes clock above the door before walking out into the hall. 

“you’ve got seven minutes. go.” johnny leans back against the wall with his free hand shoved into his pocket. immediately, johnny can hear the two of you begin to shuffle around. he can also hear the sloppy kisses that are exchanged between the soft thuds of clothing hitting the floor. 

“simon,” you say in a stern manner. “let me ride you.” the bluntness in your voice makes johnny exhale a small laugh. 

you will forever be a stubborn one in bed.

“but-“ simon sounds winded, sounds like you’d refused to let him take his lips off yours to breathe. 

you had. 

“ah,” all shuffling on the other end of the phone ceases at the sound of johnny’s voice. he hums in approval as the scot waits until a new recruit, who’s name slips johnny’s mind at the moment, to quickly shuffle past him and down the hall. they exchange a silent nod of greeting before the recruit disappears around the corner. “listen to them. since you decided to be such a brat this morning.” he then continues in a slightly hushed tone. 

johnny can clearly visualize simon giving the phone a glare that he just knows simon just gave as he allows you to settle in his lap. the phone falls silent again and johnny grins proudly.

you’re both waiting for his next call of instruction. 

always so good for him.

“well? hurry it up, you’re losin’ time.” johnny glances down at his watch to see you’ve both got just over five minutes left. the shuffling resumes followed but a pleased groan from simon. johnny knows that kind of groan from the many times he’s pinched simon’s nipples. 

“no teasing,” simon’s voice has pitched up ever so slightly. johnny shivers delightfully at the small detail. “no time for that.” 

“so needy.” you coo which you then follow up with a low moan. when the wet sounds of you picking your hips up and then quickly dropping back down spills through the speaker of johnny’s phone, he swears his knees almost buckle. he leans his head back against the wall and stares at the ceiling. 

you’d both prepared for him to give in, touched each other before you’d called him.

he makes a mental note to praise the two of you on this silly little scheme later on. 

oh, how he wishes he was there. 

oh, how he wishes to sit himself on the end of the bed and watch his partners desperately pull orgasms out of each other. 

oh, how he wishes he can see simon’s glossed over eyes peak over your shoulder and moan out a whiny ‘please touch us.’ to johnny. 

“stop trying to hold your tongue, let it out si.” your sultry tone makes johnny let out a shaky breath.

oh, how he wishes he were there. 

simon groans as the wet sound over the phone picks up in pace and volume. johnny clicks the volume up on his phone two clicks. any louder and anyone who were to walk by would very clearly hear sounds that one certainly wouldn’t make at in grocery store. 

“three minutes.” johnny glances down at his watch again. he could swear his soul left his body for a second when he hears a faint gag followed by a chuckle from you. 

“so fucking pretty sucking on my fingers like that.” your voice is much closer to the microphone now. you’d picked up your phone and held it as you ground your hips down onto simon’s. johnny can now clearly hear simon’s panting and shaky groans. 

simon always likes to joke that if anyone, and i mean anyone, somehow knew just how pathetic simon could get at the hands of you and johnny, he just might have to kill them.

 he’s obviously kidding.

maybe. 

“johnny,” simon breathes out and johnny thinks he’s about to collapse. the name is muffled, almost slurred really. your fingers pressing down on simon’s tongue force him to sound like that. 

why the fuck haven’t we as a society figured out how to teleport yet? johnny’s got somewhere he needs to be and it’s not standing in a hallway on the phone on base. 

unbelievable. 

“you gonna cum for us, si? come on make it quick, you’re down to two minutes.” johnny hums and both of you make a noise of pleasure at that. the drop in johnny’s tone makes his accent sound thicker in the best way possible. on top of that, the time limit is exciting you far more than either of you had anticipated.

“fucking-“ you’re words fizzle out into a whine when johnny hears the way simon begin to meet your bounces on him. that skin-on-skin noise that johnny loves to hear so much grows louder. “i’m gonna fucking cum.” he then hears you drop the phone. he can picture the way you start shaking atop simon when your incredibly pleased sob fills johnny’s ear. 

“there you go, just like that.” simon sighs as your fingers slip out of his mouth. he wraps an arm around your hips to move you himself. johnny’s hips twitch at the rasp in simon’s voice. he’s starting to wish he didn’t leave you both on edge this morning. 

he should’ve known his two bratty partners would  both do this to him.

“45 seconds or i’ll make you stop and i’m not touching either of you until tomorrow instead of when i get home.” johnny keeps his voice flat to hide how needy he’s starting to get.

that’s a lie.

that’s a lie and all three of you know it. 

he’d have his hands on both of you before the front door is even fully closed and locked regardless of how long you take. 

not even a full two seconds later, you’re squeezing your knees around simon’s waist. “come on pretty boy.” you moan out as you fall apart. and that pet name has him spilling into you seconds later. johnny can feel the tips of his ears burning bright fucking red. 

he’s hard now and there’s nothing he can do about it until he gets home to you two.

“finished with 15 seconds to spare.” johnny’s makes sure you can hear the smile in his voice. “i’m impressed.” 

“well having been on edge from this morning really helped.” you’re panting and feel like mush in simon’s lap. 

“you’re an arse for that by the way.” simon grunts. johnny snickers and shrugs his shoulders. 

“you liked it though, both of ya did.” johnny points out and takes the beat of silence as confirmation.”but seven minutes are up, i gotta go.” he says reluctantly. he feels like he should stick around for aftercare for a bit but he is unfortunately needed elsewhere. 

damn that all of that paperwork, why can’t it fill itself out? 

but he knows you two can take care of each other. he smiles at the thought. 

“you brats both did so well. i’ll decide if that little plan is punishment worthy or not later. that was a genius plan by the way.” johnny chuckles. his heart swells both of your laughs. such wonderful sounds. 

“i love you, johnny.” your voice is back next to the speaker again. his heart somehow manages to swell even bigger when you kiss the phone. 

“i also love you, mctavish.” simon adds. he kisses the phone as well but only because you silently insisted that he did. he pretends to hate doing that. 

“i love you both too. i’ll be home soon so please be good until then.” johnny says, kissing the phone two times for his two favorite people.

“be good until then” you playfully mock the mohawked man’s accent. simon can’t help but snort at that. 

“very funny.” johnny chuckles. “and please actually go to the store, we need more milk.” he doesn’t notice kyle standing in the doorway of his office a few feet away with a file in his hands until he hangs up and turns to walk to price’s office door again. johnny’s face flushes at the amused look on his teammates face.

“how long you been standin’ there, mate?” johnny shyly slipped his phone into his back pocket. 

“opened the door right when you were telling your brats how well they did.” kyle teases. thankfully, that’s all that kyle says before opening the door to price’s office and walks, leaving the door open for johnny to follow him back in. 

but, kyle will be bringing this back up later over comms next mission. 

and price is going to question his life choices when he has to get the four of you back on task.

he pauses so he can quickly… adjust himself… before opening the door to price’s office again. 

“groceries sorted out?” price raises his eyebrows at the sergeant who once again seats himself in the chair across from his desk. 

“sorted out.” johnny nods, praying that price can’t see how red his ears are.

price sees, he always does. 

johnny flushes even harder at price’s next words while kyle erupts into laughter. 

“now let's get this paperwork sorted and quick so you can get home to help with those so-called “groceries” yeah?”

[whiskeynwriting]

Hey ❤️ I hope you’re doing ok with your concussion and are getting better! Your post about loving Daddy Whiskey so much made me go “yep me too…EEK!”. He just makes me feel so safe and lovely.

I understand you’ve probably got lots of fics lined up and are really busy/still getting better, but I saw you said yes to DW reqs, and would love to ask for an absolutely sickly sweet fluff fic (with maybe some really loving/romantic SMUT 😏).

DW spoils you rotten: shopping trip for anything you want, being driven from shop to shop in his car by his driver (feel like he’s called Frank? 😂), back to his for take out (from a fancy AF restaurant, I’m thinking steak), movie on the sofa with blankets, pillows, you tucked up into his side, all your favourite snacks. DW is constantly telling you everything you try on in the shop makes you look “pretty as a perfect peach, darlin’”, and that “daddy loves you so so much, angel”, holding your hand, kissing the top of your head and giving you the FULL princess treatment… “Daddy will get you anything you want sweet pea, just say the word. You never need to want for anything with me, daddy’ll keep you safe.”

I need full on DW tooth rotting adorable, caring, daddying content 😂

Ok I’ve talked this up so much…imma head out

thank you ❤️

I'm L O V I N G this. I know you didn't mention reader being pregnant in your ask but with the recent Daddycember announcement I figured I'd squeeze it in.

Little Pea

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Pregnant reader, discussions of pregnancy, discussions of loss, established relationship, dirty talk, size kink, daddy kink, praise kink, spit kink, unprotected vaginal sex

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A/N: I love this so much. And I love my daddy

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“Are you sure we need all of this?”

Glancing down at the cart, you wince just thinking about how much everything will be. But that doesn’t stop your husband from adding more items to the pile.

Looking back at you with an expression of annoyed disbelief, Jack huffs. “‘Course I’m sure!” Tossing his hands up, he continues on, reaching for something new on the shelf. “We’re gonna give this baby everything they need!” 

You’d like to say it warms your heart, seeing him like this, but that’d be an understatement. There are ten pairs of newborn-sized onesies in the cart, along with fifteen different outfits. And he’s still grabbing more. He can’t help himself, he’s never been this excited about anything. 

Suddenly, he’s snapping his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Where’s the beauty care aisle?” He mutters to himself, searching quietly. 

“What do we need from there?”

“I gotta make sure you have everything you need, too.” Is his simple explanation. “Oh!” And then he’s tugging the cart away from you and scurrying across the store. 

With an amused huff, you follow behind him. Jack doesn’t let you do anything, not even push the cart. You’re only about six weeks along, but no matter how much you insist, Jack tells you that you’re more fragile than ever before. 

“Here we go.” His voice allows you to find him easily, turning the corner to find him picking out a foot bath. When he puts it in the cart, he places it beside the heating pads and fuzzy robe he got for you, too. 

“What’s that for?”

“Honey, everything in that cart is either for you,” He looks up, then down at your tummy. “Or them.” 

You’re truly in awe of him, the man you married, the person that chose you. By far, it’s the luckiest you’ve ever gotten in life. To be with a partner so caring and so genuinely loving, is more than a blessing. There hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by in your relationship that Jack hasn’t made you feel provided for, protected, and so completely adored. 

Dreamily, your husband sighs, shaking his head. Taking a step forward, he moves beside the cart before his arms find your hips. Gently, he pulls you in, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You’re amazing, baby.” 

“I mean,” You chuckle, linking your fingers behind his neck. “All I did was have sex with you.”

Your words make him laugh, that handsome smile blooming proudly. “Give yourself some credit. You’ve put up with me for a while, too.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that.” With a kind smile, you lean up, connecting your lips. But he ends it all too quick. 

“Let’s get you some new clothes, babycakes.” 

“Really? Are you sure?” Eyes dipping down, you then frown. “I didn’t think I was even showing yet.”

“No,” Jack laughs, “Not maternity clothes, just some new ones. Anything you want.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, I saw some dresses a few aisle back.” One big hand smoothes its way over your hip, fingers brushing over the curve of your backside. “I know you’d look gorgeous in ‘em.” 

Just like that, your feet are pattering along after him once again, watching him lay one, two, three dresses over his forearm before grabbing even more. They’re each a different shade and style, and he doesn’t even have to ask you which size. He already knows. 

“I’ll sit right here, honey.” Jack tells you, placing himself on the stool outside of the fitting room you chose. “You let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Baby, I won’t need help just yet. I can still dress myself.” 

Jack only grins. “Okay, honey.” 

Albeit slightly difficult, Jack does his best to be understanding. He knows he can be a bit much, especially when it comes to your pregnancy. But he expected this, and so did you. In all honesty, he’s never fully healed from the trauma of losing his late wife and unborn son. He tried therapy, he really did, but nothing could fill the tremendous hole they left. Not even you. But what made you so amazing in his eyes, is you didn’t try to fill that hole, you didn’t try to become what Anna was to him, or try to replace her. You were you, you made his life special in your own way. You didn’t fill the hole Anna and Rhett left, you just made sure he never felt broken again.  

“How’s this one look?” The first one you walk out in is a linen- blend midi dress, colored in a light blush. 

Grabbing the edges, you grin, swinging your hips a little bit. And Jack’s warm eyes light up at the sight of you. 

“Babycakes,” He’s still sitting, staring up at you in awe. “That color looks so good on you. How does it feel?”

Smiling, your eyes dip down, admiring him more than yourself in the mirror directly across from you. “I like it.”

The next dress isn’t colored to your liking, a yellow shade resembling that of a deep mustard. The third is a light purple, almost lilac, and you would have bought it if the bustline wasn’t too small. 

“You like this one, babe?” Turning, you eye yourself in the mirror, considering the fourth one. The backless cami dress is a deep forest green, something you’d definitely wear this coming spring. 

“You look stunning, sweet pea.” Releasing an airy sigh, Jack fiddles gently with the ring on his finger. Inside, his heart is swelling with joy. He’s no longer looking at just you (although that sight will sweep him off his feet for the rest of his life). He’s looking at his baby, too. “That’d be perfect for the spring.”

Grinning widely, you look over your shoulder at him. “That’s what I was thinking, too.” 

Spring. By next time this spring, we’ll be holding our baby. 

The last dress takes your breath away. Standing in the stall, you grin, thinking about the reaction Jack will give you. It’s a mocha colored knit dress, with long sleeves and a square neckline. It compliments your waist perfectly, the sleeves comfortable and the neckline just low enough for you to be comfortable. It reaches your mid-thigh, and although it’s knit, it isn’t too heavy on you. 

“What about this?”

“Oh, sugar.” Looking up from his phone, Jack’s lips part in awe. It makes you grin, a small giggle slipping from your lips. This time, he actually stands, holding out both hands. Running them along your sides, he glances down, speaking softly to you. “This is definitely the one babycakes. You look so stunning, pretty as a perfect peach.”

Pouting playfully, you ask in the sweetest voice you can muster, “Just one?”

“Babycakes, you know I’ll get you anything you want. Just say the word.”  Quickly leaning down, he presses a firm kiss to your cheek. Now, you laugh fully, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Daddy loves you so much, angel.” He’s muttering, his lips trailing over your soft skin. “You know that? You know that, don’t you, honey?”

Lifting your head, you meet his eyes, smiling. One of your hands shifts, moving to cup his cheek. Stroking his plump bottom lip, you nod. “I know, daddy.” 

*

*

*

Jack’s hand is on yours whenever he’s not pushing the cart, even making room to do so when he’s carrying the bags. Once you’re done in the store, you meet Jack’s driver out in the lot. With your current state, Jack wanted to be by your side constantly, and that meant him driving as little as possible, and you not driving at all.

“Go on in, sugar.” Kissing the top of your hand, he nods. “I’ll just put these away.” 

Even though the driver is more than capable of helping, Jack does it himself. He’s not helpless, after all.

“Hey Frank,” Sliding in, you smile, greeting the man you’ve now known for years. 

“Hey there,” Turning, he returns your kind expression. “How’d the shopping go?”

“Really good. Jack’s putting away the bags now.” And then you giggle, glancing down at your ring. “He can’t help himself.” 

“Yeah,” Nodding, Frank shares a familiar look, one of genuine joy. “You know, I don’t think I ever saw him this happy before you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” You return with a bashful grin and a roll of your eyes. 

“Oh, c’mon. You already know it’s true.” 

It’s only a short drive back to your home, and an even shorter ride on the elevator up. Jack carries every bag, the biggest smile making itself comfortable on those beautiful lips. It makes you grin, seeing him like this. Linking your arm around his bicep, you let your head fall to his shoulder, sighing. He’s going to be the best dad. 

After finding out about your pregnancy, you and Jack talked about, well… everything. One of the main topics being the baby’s room. For a moment, you considered moving, but were quick to find it unnecessary. The penthouse was big enough to house a master bedroom, two spares, and an office. So, the baby will just take one of the spares.

“I can’t help with anything?”

Currently, Jack is putting away all the baby clothes the two of you bought today. You had a say in almost every piece, of course, but some were entirely Jack’s idea. One being a little outfit of Woody from Toy Story. 

“Sure you can, sweetheart.” He just wants you to rest, but finally, he gives in. “Can you take these tags off for me?”

And so, you create a system of you untagging the clothes, and Jack folding them. You haven’t put the nursery together yet. Hell, you haven’t even hit the two month mark yet! But Jack wanted to go shopping, nonetheless, having ordered a couple cabinets to put the clothes and toys in for the time being. 

“What?” When you look up, he’s staring at you.

“How about some dinner?” 

“From where?”

“That one hibachi restaurant? You said you liked it, right?” He’s already pulling out his phone and dialing the number. 

“Yeah! It’s my new favorite since the old one closed down!” A bright smile colors your face, immediately perking up at the mention of it. “It’s kind of expensive though, isn’t it?”

Jack looks up from his phone, giving you an unamused face. “Do you actually think I give a shit about that right now?” And he’s right, you don’t even know why you asked. When Jack has his mind set on spoiling you, that’s exactly what he’s going to do. 

“Why don’t you go get some blankets, babycakes?” Jack suggests, the phone now on his ear. “We can make it a cozy date night.” 

While your husband arranges for the food to be delivered, you gather the coziest pillows and blankets you have. Laying the biggest blanket on the floor before the living room couch, you stack a few pillows against the large piece of furniture, allowing you to lean back against it. The rest of your fluffy items are them piled on top of the main blanket, some lining the perimeter too. All in all, you’ve created quite the cozy little nest. 

“Ready to eat, babycakes?”

“Yes, please.” You’re already sitting, your back against the pillows as you reach up eagerly toward your plate of food. 

Jack chuckles at your impatience, bringing himself down to your level so he can sit beside you. You’re already stuffing yourself with your favorite food before he can even ask what movie you want to choose. 

“Jurassic Park?” He asks, one eyebrow raised in amusement. With your mouth still full, you offer a close-lipped smile and a happy nod. And after switching the screen to one of your favorite movies, he grins, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you in. 

“C’mere,” Jack scooches a little closer, too, lifting his arm to your shoulders when you finally nuzzle into his side. “You hungry little hippo.”

“Hey!”

“Not because you look like a hippo.” Jack immediately defends, reading your thoughts while rolling his eyes. And then he turns his head, eyeing you with a grin. Reaching over, he gives your nose a little pinch. “C’mon now, just enjoy yourself.”

You almost hate to say it, but when Jack acted like this… it really made you melt for him. It’s like he can corral you in without even having to lift a finger. Like he knows how to calm you down just as quickly as it is easy. Some might find it patronizing, but you know he doesn’t mean it that way. Personally, you find it endearing. 

It’s only when you catch him staring at your stomach that you huff out in annoyance. “What?!”

Easily, he dismisses your sassy tone. “How big you reckon they are?” 

“Huh?”

“The baby,” He nods, still staring. “What, maybe a peach?” Gently, Jack’s free hand slides down, that warm and broad palm settling over your lower belly. And then he grins. “Lil’ peach.”

“Baby,” Glancing up at him, you giggle quietly. “There’s no way they’re that big.”

“Huh?” Furrowing his eyebrows, Jack cocks his head curiously. “Really?”

“Yeah, let me see.” Pulling out your phone, you type in a quick Google search. “At six weeks, they’re about the size of a pea.”

“A pea?!” Your husband asks incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Laughing, you nod. Now, you’re looking down, too. “Tiny lil’ thing.”

“Little pea.” Jack says affectionately, fingers rubbing your covered belly. “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

Tilting his head upwards and to the side, he shifts his gaze to you. “Yeah…” He responds quietly, leaning in to give your cheek a tender kiss. “I got my sweet pea,” And then, he’s moving, bending over your lap to give the baby a kiss, too. “And my little pea.” 

“Baby,” His loving words move you inside. “You’re so freaking sweet.”

���You think so?” Lifting himself back up, you’re met with that stunning grin. And you can’t help but bring your hands to his face, pressing your lips to his. 

“Mhm,” It’s tender and firm, your kiss, and he leans happily into it. 

“It’s only because I love you so much.” His voice has dropped an octave, and it a bit breathier than before. And you’d find his words cheesy if he wasn’t speaking to you so intensely. 

Sliding his hand up he cups your cheek, urging you to lean into it. “Because I do,” He sighs, soft lips finding your neck. “I love you so much, sweet pea.”

Slowly, Jack’s fingers dip beneath the edge of your shirt, his warm palm finding the skin of your lower belly. 

“You’re gonna be such a good papa, baby.” Your husband’s heart beat profoundly at the name. He can’t wait for the day. 

“You wanna know how I know?” Jack’s gentle kisses take your breath away, your words coming out as a whisper to him.

“Tell me, baby.” He’s pressing his body to you, leaning into your frame. And from where he’s at, you can speak directly into his ear when you say, “Because you’re already such an amazing daddy.” 

And just like that, you’ve got him’ the string of Jack’s soul wrapped tightly around your finger. His lids flutter closed, releasing a firm breath through his nose. 

“I’ll always be your daddy, baby.” His voice is low, predatory, protective. 

“I know, daddy.” You’re nodding, turning to look up at his handsome face.

“You’ll never need to want for anything, babycakes.” Stroking your cheek, he promises, “Daddy’ll take care of you - he’ll keep you safe.”

And right now, you do feel safe, you feel so safe and small in his arms. Nuzzling into him, your chin lifts. Now, it’s your turn to pepper his neck in sweet kisses. He’s already sighing, soft moans filtering through his pen mouth as his arms wrap tighter around you. But just as easily as he’s holding you, you break free from him, moving onto his lap. 

It surprises him, but he welcomes it, nonetheless. How the hell could he not? Watching his pregnant wife crawling onto his lap made him the happiest man in the entire damn world.

“You want me?” He asks in that deep, gravelly tone, cocking his head while your arms wrap around his neck. 

Nodding, you lean in, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes, daddy.” 

Before Jack can do or say anything else, your hands are on the front of his pants. He grins cockily, letting you undo his belt and zipper, pulling him out and stroking him in your tiny hand. 

“You really want me, huh?” Your husband asks again, stroking your outer arms and then moving in to touch your sides. 

That familiar feeling inside you seems to be building much quicker than it used to your emotions running high and arousal burning hot. Your body tingles with it, with the need to be touched by him, filled with him. It’s so overwhelming that you don’t even bring yourself to answer him, you just stand, shoving down your pants.

Tilting his chin up, he watches you undress, shucking your bottoms to the ground before returning to his lap. 

“Oh, yeah…” Calloused hands find your naked hips, fingers grabbing hold of your flesh. He loves when you’re like this, when you’re so needy you can’t help but take initiative. “Take this -”

But you’re already taking your top off, he doesn’t even have to tell you. Within seconds, you’re completely naked in front of him, and he feels like he can’t catch his breath.

“Holy fuck,” Firmly, you grind yourself over him, ducking your pretty face into the crook of his neck. “Baby, what’s going on with you?” He chuckles, linking one arm around your lower back, his free hand finding your ass. 

“I love you.” Shivering, you release a shaky breath, feeling him guide your motions. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” He coos, almost mockingly, to you. “I know you do. And daddy loves you too, babycakes, he loves you…” 

Sliding his hand down, he finds your crease, his fingers moving down its center. And you moan when he finds your upper hole, applying just a bit of pressure. 

“Daddy, please,” Biting gently into his neck, you whine desperately. “Please fuck me, I want it. I want you so bad, baby.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, a bit more aggressively. And then his hand lands on the fat of your ass, stinging your skin. “Then do it.” Gritting his teeth, he turns his head, pressing that beautifully curved nose into your cheek. “You wanna fuck daddy, baby? Yeah? Well you go on, you go right ahead.” 

“Take this off.” Your fingers are scrambling over his chest, begging to feel his skin. And he complies, lifting it from his torso while demanding, “Fuck your pretty pussy open on me.” 

“Oh my god,” With his chest exposed, your palms lay flat atop him. “I fucking love the way you talk.”

And still, your hips are moving over him, wetting him with the arousal seeping from your center. 

“Yeah, I know.” He grins, lips curling into a cocky smirk while he watches you lift yourself. “Daddy knows you love it, I know how much that pussy wants me…” 

“Baby,” Angling him upward, you sink down easily, gasping at the feel of his bulbous tip sliding past your lips. 

Jack’s hands squeeze your hips as he watches you take him, eyes trained on your beautiful face. With your eyes closed, you sigh, releasing a delicate moan when he’s sheathed entirely inside. And when you’re in his lap, the soft skin of your thighs rubs against his jeans, feeling the coolness of his open zipper. 

“Yeah…” Jack sighs, head lolling lazily to the side. “Yeah, how’s that feel, sugar peach? Huh?

“Daddy,” Already, your thighs are shaking around him, chest inhaling a steadying breath while you grab hold of his bare shoulders. 

“Tell me,” Jack encourages gently, fingers stroking your back. And then one hand rises to the back of your neck, bringing you forward to his lips. He kisses you kindly, lips moving against your own in such a sweet way, that you’re shocked by the tone of his next two few words. “I said tell me.”

The hand on the back of your neck tightens, Jack’s stern eyes rising to bore into your widened ones. Gulping, you take in a breath. “You feel good, daddy. You feel so good inside me… Sliding your palms up his chest seems to relax him, along with your next sentence. “You always do.”

Groaning, Jack nips at your bottom lip, his hips beginning to move. Tilting his head downward, he drags his mouth over your exposed chest, using his hands to roll your hips over his lap. 

“That’s good, honey.” He praises, the words muffled by your chest. “That’s a good girl, for me.” 

“Daddy,” It feels pathetic, only being able to whine out a few words when he’s inside. But sex with Jack was just so incredibly overwhelming, it has been since the very first time.

The strength of his hands moves you back and forth over his crotch, not lifting you up and down but grinding you against himself. He’s holding you down, rolling his hips up just barely, while listening to your high whines. But when you finally begin to move with him, that’s when he tosses his head back with a groan. 

“Oh, that’s it.” Now, you’re ushering your hips along, your pleasure center stimulated every time it nudges against his naked skin. “That’s it mama, ride me.” 

“Oh my god, baby.” Digging your fingers into your husband’s shoulders, you glance down, taking in his beautiful, blissful expression. He’s never called you that before. And you’re not sure why, but it makes you fucking melt. 

“God yeah,” Looking down, Jack’s eyes find the space where you’re connected, feeling himself throb against your inner walls. “Fuck yeah.”

Usually, when you rode Jack, he guided you onto him, up and down, over and over again. He loved feeling your ass slap down against him, loved forcing you onto his lap so he could reach as deep as he possibly could. But right now, he’s reveling in this - you seated on him, his cock entirely inside while you just grind back and forth over his lap. He can’t even begin to describe how sexy it is to see you like this, to see you getting yourself off on him. 

“Baby,” Sliding your fingers up through his hair, you grab hold of the mocha colored strands, pulling on them. “That f-feels so good.”

“Nah, I know you can do better’n that.” Jack chastises playfully, shaking his head. Punching his hips up against your pelvis, he watches you gasp, dominant hand immediately reaching for your throat. “I know you can fuck yourself better than this.” 

“Daddy, I -”

“Jesus,” He cuts you off, giving his head another quick shake. “Look at you, rubbin’ your pretty little clit against me. That feel good, honey? Does it feel good to fuck your daddy?”

“Yes!”

Lids fluttering open, you meet your husband’s gorgeous face, his lips parted as he releases the occasional groan or gasp. Quietly, he admits, “There’s nothin’ better than watching you fall apart on top of me.” 

Leaning in, Jack’s mouth finds your neck, biting into your soft skin. His movement allows you to fully wrap your arms around him, repeatedly rocking your hips down onto his lap. And then, he’s smiling against your throat, tongue laying out to lick a stripe up your neck. 

“You like when I call you that?” He doesn’t even have to specify for you to answer with a rapid nod and an eager yes. “Yeah, I figured you would.” Jack’s never called you a name you didn’t like. 

“I made you that, after all. Didn’t I?” His deep voice is rumbling across your throat, plush lips dragging up to your ear. It’s tantalizing, the voice he has and the way he uses it against you. “You gonna let me do it again? Fuck you full? Put another baby in you?” 

“Daddy, y-yes, yes please. Always.” You haven’t even had this one yet and already, you want to give him more. 

Jack’s hands quickly drop, both palms fisting the curves of your ass. With a firm shove, he quickens your pace, rocking his hips up in time with yours. 

“Then c’mon baby, fuck me. Fuck your daddy until you can’t take it anymore.” 

You let Jack shove you over his crotch, feeling the thickness of him drag against your walls. Turning your head, you grab his face, bringing him back up to you. And he lets you move him happily, those talented lips mouthing at your own. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth, rubbing across your own and moaning at the taste of your spit. He just loves it. 

“Do it, baby.” Jack tilts his head up toward you, eyes full of lust and admiration. Glancing down, you sigh, holding his face in your hands. Your thumbs rub his cheeks, palms feeling the smoothness of his jawline and chin. 

“Please.” He begs simply, delicately. 

Pursing your lips, you let a small trail of spit drip down, Jack’s soft lips parting to capture it. His head drops back against the couch when you do it, the taste washing over his tongue. 

“That’s such a good girl, baby. That’s so good, oh my god…” And then he’s shooting upright, head tilted up as he demands more. “That’s so good…”

“Hm,” Grinning, you tap his nose. “What do you want?”

“Please, baby. Give it to me.” He’s still pawing at your ass, urging you over his lap while he throbs between your legs. “Please.”

“Tell me.” You demand simply, still holding that gorgeous face in between your hands.  

It’s easy to let him move your body, your hips grinding over his crotch and now beginning to lift. You need more of him; you need to feel him deep. 

“Spit.” His raspy voice responds. “Spit for me, sugar. Right in my mouth.” 

It was always one of Jack’s dirtiest fantasies. And you allowed him to live out every naughty thought in his mind. 

Open-mouthed, he groans, feeling your saliva land on his tongue much more forcefully than before. With his eyes rolling back, he closes his mouth, feeling your movements quicken over his body.

“Oh, that’s it, mama.” Lazily, his eyes open to stare up at you, giving your outer thigh a smack. “Keep it goin’, baby…” 

It’s like he’s genuinely drunk on you, inebriated from indulging in your body. His hands hold onto you, but his hips are no longer matching your thrusts. He lets you do the work, smiling lazily as he gawks at your naked form. 

“B-Baby, I’m, fuck…” Dropping your head, you gasp. “I’m so close.” 

“Oh god, honey. Please do it, do it for me.” Jack begs, fingers massaging your hips and outer thighs. “Please cum on me. I love when I’m all wet from you.” 

“Fuck.” Jack’s dirty talk will be the fucking end of you.

Dropping your head, you move to his shoulder, leaning on him. And he lets you use him in this way, giving you the leverage you need to rub yourself against his body. With your arms looping around his neck, you whine against him, fingers curling into the ends of his hair.

“C’mon, baby.” Jack coos, his throat going dry. “I know you can do it.” Turning, he kisses your cheek, keeping his lips pressed against you as he nears his own peak. “I love when you fuck me.”

And that’s exactly what sends you surging over the edge, the pleasure of it enveloping your entire being. It shivers through you, your arms tightening around his neck. And Jack feels this, feels the tight clench around his already throbbing cock seated so deeply inside you. Both of those strong arms cling to your midsection, holding you tight while he finally moves his pelvis upward against you. 

“Daddy,” It’s barely a gasp, the word breathy as it leaves your lips. 

Your entire body is tensing, muscles contracting as you experience this. And you can tell your husband has reached his own bliss from the way he groans into your ear, from the way his hips stutter between your legs. His head drops back against the couch, releasing into you just like every time before this. 

“Oh, baby.” Rolling his hips against you, he rides out the feeling of his high for as long as he can. And in turn, prolonging your own. “You’re so tight around me.” 

Breathing heavily, you return your lips to his, mouthing passionately at them. And Jack moans into it, head rocking rhythmically as you slide your tongue in. 

“I love you,” Now, both of your arms have retracted, your hands finding his gorgeous face once again. “I love you so much, baby. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone but you.” 

For the first time in a long time, Jack can’t find the words to respond. It takes his breath away, makes his insides squeeze with affection. 

“I love you, baby doll.” Is all he can manage to say, warm hands rubbing the bare skin of your back. He likes that you’re still pressed against him, still as close as you can possibly be. 

After sharing a quiet, intimate moment, Jack’s smile widens. “And I love our Little Pea.”

[bangtanfancamp]

Oh Christmas Tree | KNJ

∴ summary: you’re looking for a fresh start and a Christmas tree when you unintentionally stumble across the worlds most attractive dimples and the sweet, gigantic, bumbling man attached to them

Alt: Namjoon + a Christmas tree farm + his best friend’s girlfriend’s little sister = the best Yuletide he never saw coming

∴ masterlist

∴ part of the breakfast with bangtan series

∴ pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader, guest appearances by cultivating a life with you Hoseok x his y/n

∴word count: 10.8k

∴ rating: mature, 18+

∴genre: fluff, strangers to lovers. slice of life, Christmas romance

∴warnings: flirting, woke adjacent Christmas tree banter? sexual tension, joon is a big man (we all know this), a few subtle pov shifts- but only at already marked breaks in the story beats (should be easy to follow. Hopefully), subtle daddy kink, joonie has big boobies and he likes boobies, what was meant to be really soft smut that got a little out of hand honestly

∴author’s note: This started as a little scribble in March of 2021 that only involved the scene of y/n and Namjoon bantering about Christmas trees. I’ve been neck deep in 30k+ monster fic drafts for months and I just wanted to write something quick & fluffy so here we are. This y/n is the sister Hoseok’s girlfriend visits in cultivating a life with you. The stories are totally independent of each other but technically- chronologically- this takes place two winters later. Not meant to be hallmark movie related. I honestly just love the idea of Namjoon in one of his tiny little beanies getting tongue tied in the snow while surrounded by Christmas trees. Enjoy! Please let me know if you like it, if you like :) also… this is not proofread yet. I stayed up all night writing this and didn’t sleep. So I’m gonna leave this here, crash, and come back later to edit and add my copious italics, as I do.

───────────────────────

“My gosh, are these Christmas trees in outer space?”

You’d spent the last hour and a half being squashed in the backseat of your sister’s Mini Cooper. Your knees were beginning to ache.

“Oh don’t be a grinch, silly. We’re almost there,” your sister twisted to smile back at you from her spot in the passenger seat.

Her pink mittened hand was happily resting on her boyfriend Hoseok’s slim thigh. He reached down to tap out the rhythm to “walking in a winter wonderland” across the back of her knuckles as she beamed back at you, and you felt a little bit of your irritation melt away. It was nice to see her so happy. They were sweet to each other. It was lovely for them, but it wouldn’t help straighten out the kink in your back.

Who takes a coupe to pick up a live Christmas tree?

Hoseok caught your eye in the rear view mirror and smiled in apology as you shifted. He was as nice as your sister, just as keen to accommodate, and as soft for her as you were, if not more. His car was in the shop and yours hadn’t arrived yet. You’d driven a u-haul here from three states away a week and a half ago, settling down to take root during a holiday season best celebrated in an established home like the smart planner you were (not).

But for once, you didn’t care. Or at least, you were learning not to.

You’d spent too much of your life stuck in places you didn’t even want to be, taking life too seriously. Spent too many of the last few years feeling stagnant and like you were running out of time all at once. So when the opportunity arose, you took the first chance you got to move here. To be closer to your sister, to be somewhere where the air felt lighter, where you could be whoever you wanted to be.

And today, you wanted to be the owner of a live Christmas tree.

Give yourself something to smile at in your studio that currently consisted of bare stucco walls and aesthetic cardboard box piles.

When you’d mentioned it over the phone, your sister had known just the place.

“It’s the cutest little Christmas tree farm! Me and hobi get our tree there every year! They even have a hot cocoa stand up front for you to sip on while you pick your tree out. It’s owned by the sweetest family. One of our friends works there too. Oh you have to meet him!”

Your sister had gushed it all in one breath.

“Have to?”

“Absolutely. Not even a question. Get dressed! Me and hobi’ll pick you up in 10!”

That was that. You’d bundled up to the best of your ability, (Your wardrobe was not prepared for how chilly the winters got up here) and twenty minutes later, your sister and a blushing Hoseok were waiting for you in the parking lot in their jolly little holiday mobile.

Your sister had added reindeer antlers and a red nose to her Mini Cooper and jingle bells to the door handles. There was a set of white vinyl stickers with the silhouette of Santa’s sleigh and all nine reindeer plastered on the back window and a sprig of mistletoe-that she’d probably grown herself- twirling from the rear view mirror. Somehow she’d even gotten the horn to match the melody of “we wish you a merry Christmas.”

You’d have to ask how later.

The ride ended up being cozy enough. Now you were just eager to get out and get the feeling back in your toes. Hoseok tipped the driver's side seat forward for you to crawl out from the back. The second the icy wind slapped against your cheek you wondered why you thought going out in the cold would bring any sort of circulation back to your toes. You rolled your eyes at yourself and chuckled when you caught sight of the purplish tinge along Hoseok’s throat peeking out just over the edge of his chunky crocheted scarf. (Your sister probably made it for him. And now he was using it to hide her hickies. The little hoe.)

He felt your stare and blushed, his wide animated eyes becoming sheepish as he yanked his scarf up just the littlest bit higher.

So that was why that ten minute pickup time had stretched into twenty.

Good for the both of you.

Soon, the three of you were wandering through the farm. There was a section of freshly cut trees ready to take home near the front but rows and rows of trees still rooted to the ground off into the horizon, all dusted with this week’s newest burst of powdery snow. It was a magical thing to see really.

Your sister was happily tucked into Hoseok’s lithe side, one arm looped through his, the other hand cradling a hot cup of cocoa with a candy cane poking out of the lid. Nothing if not festive. You’d opted to save your cup for later. You liked the brisk air, and you liked both your hands being deeply plunged in the warmth of your fleece lined pockets.

“Cell reception is shit up here.” Hoseok piped up. “I tried to text Namjoon to see if he was working today but all I got back was the green text bubble of death.”

“Boo, Joonie’s the worst at charging his phone too. It’s probably dead,” your sister giggled.

“Guess I’m never gonna meet your jolly green giant, Hobes,” you bumped his elbow with yours.

“With the brain of archibald asparagus,” your sister added.

“Sexy brain, that man has,” Hoseok sighed with envy.

“Your brain is sexy too, babe.” Your sister tipped up on her toes to kiss Hoseok’s wind-chapped cheek.

“Not as sexy as his,” Hoseok nodded resolutely.

“Oh, what about when he wears his little wire rimmed professor glasses?”

“Too hot. He’d melt the snow,” Hoseok swooned.

“Goodness, are you in love with my sister or him?” You teased.

“Both,” Hoseok admitted, a little too sincerely, clutching at his heart over his oversized parka.

“I don’t blame him,” your sister nodded sagely. You quirked a brow at her and she simply shrugged, all innocence, zero guilt. “What? Don’t look at me like that. Trust me, it’ll make sense when you see him.”

“If I ever see him. I’m pretty sure he’s a myth.” Your skepticism came out with a snort and an opaque puff of air.

Geeze, it’s cold.

────────────────────────

At some point in the wandering, you got distracted watching a small child drag their parent by the wrist to the tree of their dreams. The scene was so wholesome and sweet. The little girl squealed with delight as a pair of squirrels skittered past them in chase, twining their way up her tree and darting down and away, ruffling soft powdery snow loose from the tree’s needles in their wake like a fairy sprinkling pixie dust.

The whole interaction was so idyllic that you’d stopped paying attention to where you were going and plowed directly into the broad back of what you were sure must be a bear. What else could it be? No man’s back was that broad, that’s for sure.

The force of it knocked you flat back on your bum, leaving you dazed in a little pile of crunchy snow and loose pine needles.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

The words came too fast, too rushed, and at sure as hell too deep of an octave to come from anyone you knew, man or bear included.

There was a massive olive green, gloved hand shoved in your face- apparently attached to whoever was apologizing so profusely. You grabbed on and let it hoist you up. Goddamn, whoever this was was strong. After flying backward just a few seconds ago, you were now flying forward, toppling directly into what seemed to be just as equally broad a chest as the back you had crashed into moments ago.

“Are you alright? I can’t believe I did that. Are you o-“

The rambling ocean wave of a voice stopped crashing over you the second you looked up and locked eyes with what you were sure was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in person.

“Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath.

The man’s full lips seemed to gape as he looked at you.

Not necessarily in an objectionable way. It was more like, the tape in his brain had spun off the track and tangled itself up like an old cassette that needed help being wound back up again. It was like his thoughts were written all over his face. If you knew him better, you could have read them like a novel. For now, you knew one thing.

He was pretty when he was thinking.

Hell, he was pretty, period.

And two, he was solid as an ox.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Mr Yun’s gonna kill me if you’re hurt. I should have been paying more attention.” He patted down the sides of your ribs and torso like he was half expecting a bone to be jutting out.

“I’m okay. I’m good. i-“ am still holding his pecs, you realized.

What a Christmas miracle they were. Geeze. He had better boobs than you. You swallowed once then smiled up at him. “Do you, by any chance, work here?”

He blinked at you. There was snow on his eyelashes. His tiny dark green beanie wasn’t doing any good at shielding his face from the snow, but god did the color look good next to his golden skin.

“Um, yes, actually. I do. Again, I’m so sorry that I-“

“Shush, enough of that. You’re going to help me pick my tree.”

“I am?”

It was his turn to swallow.

“I mean, yes. Of course I am. Can. What are you looking for?”

He was nervous. So visibly nervous. You weren’t sure if it was because of you or if it was just his general disposition. Either way, you were hopelessly endeared by it. Pretty, bumbly, abominable snowman of a man. With great tits.

“Well, I came here in a Mini Cooper, so… whatever will fit on top of that, I guess.”

He blinked again, before he smiled- wide and gracious. His eyes crinkled at the edges and Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

His dimples.

How obscene.

“Sounds like a great place to start, to me.” He laughed for the first time. It was so boisterous and rich, you were sure he’d cause an avalanche.

The sound was as deep as winter, but soothing and warm. You already wanted to hear it again.

Oh boy. You really liked this one.

────────────────────────

“So what technically constitutes ‘ethically sourced’ when it comes to Christmas trees?” You looked wide-eyed up at Namjoon.

“Um… you know I… well, usually I-I would know the answer to that.”

“But right now, you don’t?”

“I mean, I can’t say that I do.” He shrugged ruefully.

“Despite currently being employed on a Christmas tree lot?” You arched a brow at him, a wry smile pulling at your lips.

“That does seem to be the case, yes.” His brows pinched at his own glum response.

“Are you new?” Mirth glittered in your eyes as you watched him.

“No, actually, I’ve been helping Mr. Yun since college… senior year of high school technically, actually.” Namjoon looked a bit lost in space as he wracked his brain for his qualifications.

“So you should have seniority around here?”

“Sort of ? It’s just , you know, mr. yun is a friend of my parents and he’s always been good to me so I always try to return the favor and help out every year, if I can.” He swallowed.

He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. He literally talked to people for a living. He could sell a polar bear ice, for Pete’s sake. But every time he made eye contact with you, he was practically on the verge of forgetting his own name so this whole witty repartee thing was an absolute struggle in ways it absolutely should not be.

“Well, he’s very lucky to have you then. Even if you can’t tell me where this tree came from.” You chuckled.

“No, I that- that I can do. All our Douglas firs come from grey farms about two hours north of here. Again, super kind family. They’ve been doing this for generations, actually.”

He found himself affectionately gripping the top of the tree while you smiled up at him like you had a secret and he felt a new rush of sweat rise beneath the fold of his beanie.

“So locally sourced then.”

“Family owned.” He nodded.

“Well now, that’s a great start. You know more than you let on.” You tapped an index finger into the down of his puffy coat and he felt himself flush, wishing he actually could have felt that touch.

Every part of him felt like he was back in middle school right now. It had been ages since something this simple was this difficult for him. Trying to figure out how not to trip over his words while maintaining eye contact with the you and your the luminous smile really wasn’t working at all. He should have been better at this by now, he sighed. His thirteen year old self would have been ashamed to see how little progress he’d made in that department in a decade and a half.

“So, should I choose to re-home this lovely tree, do you know of anyone who could, say, strap it to the roof of my car for me?”

Your eyes were twinkling, face framed by the softly falling snow flurries that had started up again and Namjoon felt himself swallow.

“I- I would be happy to find-“

“There you are! Finally found you- Oh, hey bro! So you are working today!” A voice bright like tangy sweet lemonade interrupted Namjoon’s inelegant struggle.

“Hoseok?” Namjoon looked mystified at the pair of you as Hoseok clasped a mittened hand around your shoulder. “How do you two-“

“This is my girl’s sister, y/n, remember? I told you we were helping her move in last week.” He explained with a happy shrug.

“This is… you’re… wow. Hey. Nice to officially meet you.” Namjoon released the tree to dizzily shake your hand, trying his best to ignore your amusement at his manic behavior.

“So you’re the mysterious friend who was too busy to help with the u-haul unloading, huh?” You quirked a brow up at Namjoon. He looked a bit green around the gills as his snow frosted lashes fell away from your gaze.

“We were slammed here that day. If it makes you feel any better, I got so much pine sap all over me that I had to toss my favorite gloves away.”

“Tsk. Now why would that make me feel better?” You teased as something mischievous glinted in your eyes.

“Because my shitty friend status made me suffer?” Namjoon shrugged.

“Well, we weren’t friends yet,” you grinned. “But now that we are, I think it’s only right that you should come over when you’re off to help the three of us decorate my new locally sourced, freshly cut Christmas tree”

“Oh absolutely!“ Hoseok piped in. “You haven’t hung out in weeks- you have to come.”

His endearing smile beamed bright across his face in a way that was impossible to fight. Bright red bits of hair peaked out beneath his beanie as he grinned widely up at Namjoon, and Namjoon was too distracted by his openness to process his nerves at the invitation.

“I mean, I guess I… I mean I wouldn’t want to intrude on…”

“Nonsense,” Hoseok interrupted,” you’d only be making the party better! Y/n needs all the friends she can get anyway. Poor thing’s stuck hanging out with us all the time- she could use a few new faces in the rotation, right little sis?” He hip checked you, ruffling your hair with the hand slung over your shoulder.

“Not your little sis yet,” you countered, eyes full of challenge.

“Wait, Hobi, this Christmas are you gonna…” Namjoon twisted his left hand, the gesture caught vaguely somewhere between the Queens wave and the single ladies dance.

Hoseok pulled a nervous face, brows lifting and jaw tightening until his smile bared all his teeth, as he patted the chest of his puffer coat.

“I’ve been carrying it around for weeks actually. Can’t seem to find the right time.”

“Are you insane?” You swatted him. “You brought it with you here? What if you lose it in the snow, you dummy?!”

“Ow!” Hoseok rubbed his shoulder dramatically. “The little ones are always fighters.”

You rolled your eyes as Namjoon blushed for reasons beyond him. Maybe he didn’t need any more explanation than the fact that you were cute as hell and he liked seeing you laugh.

“Your sister would never hit me like that,” Hoseok huffed.

“Yeah, she doesn’t have to because she knows I’d do it for her. Now why on gods green earth is the ring just chilling in your pocket while you stroll through endless yards of nature??”

“I keep it with me in case there’s a moment that just feels right. I’ll already be ready, you know.”

Hoseok’s face was far away, dreamy.

Namjoon was happy for him, even if he wanted a little piece of his friend’s wonder for himself one day.

“I still think you should propose to her at home in your little jungle. You have to know how happy that would make her,” you asserted.

Namjoon thought back to his last visit to Hoseok’s apartment. The walls had almost been alive with the amount of trailing vines climbing toward the ceiling. It was otherworldly, serene, like an indoor garden. It would be a spectacular place to propose actually.

“I think she’s right. It would be pretty damn perfect, Hob.” Namjoon offered.

“Ooo, did you hear that?” Slipping out from under Hoseok’s slinky arm, you attached yourself to Namjoon’s bulky one. “He already knows I’m always right. The company you keep, Hobi. I like this one.”

You squeezed Namjoon’s bicep, and he swore he could feel the warmth of your touch through his puffer jacket. He knew his cheeks had to match Hoseok’s fire engine hair now.

“Hey, be sweet to him. He’s sensitive,” Hoseok tutted as he pinched Namjoon’s rosy face despite being swatted away by one Namjoon’s big hands.

“I… is this the tree you’re settled on y/n? If it is, I should start getting it wrapped for you.”

“Hoist it on the beige Mini Cooper in the back, eh Hulk?” Hoseok patted his unoccupied bicep, giving it a happy squeeze as he pushed past Namjoon. “Im off to find where my poison Ivy wandered off to again. Probably somewhere talking to the cedars.” He shook his head softly but gosh, there was nothing but fondness in his happily crinkled eyes. “You two don’t get up to anything too wild while I’m gone now, yeah? We haven’t even brought out the baileys and the eggnog yet. Save it for later - or I’ll be the one kissing Joonie under the mistletoe.”

Hoseok wiggled his fingers and brows in puppety unison as he vanished through the trees, leaving Namjoon alone with you once again.

“He’s quite the character isn’t he?” You chuckled.

“You have no idea.”

“He’s good to my sister though. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“They’re pretty made for each other,” Namjoon nodded in assent as you sighed.

It wasn’t until he looked down to catch your expression that he realized you were still holding onto his arm. Jesus Christ of Nazareth, was he going to faint in a Christmas tree lot?

You looked up then, a soft giggle bubbling out of you when you saw whatever his distress was doing to his face, and squeezed his arm before walking a few snowy paces ahead.

“Come on, tiger. The quicker we take care of this, the quicker we can get out of the cold.”

Namjoon had never followed anyone faster in his life.

────────────────────────

Why had the three of you come in a compact car?

This was pure delusion.

The tree Namjoon had helped you pick loomed over the front windshield like something from whoville. Good thing you weren’t the one driving. Good luck with that visibility, Hobi.

You and your sister stood side by side, linked at the elbow while the two men tied the tree down to the roof of the car.

“Think we’ll tip over in a strong breeze?” You queried.

“I think we’ll tip over if anyone even looks at us funny,” your sister giggled.

Her laughter was contagious and soon you were both cackling uncontrollably as Hoseok and Namjoon secured your dr Seuss tree to the roof of her car. Namjoon looked back over his shoulder, making accidental eye contact with you. You let your gaze rove over his absurdly pretty face, eyes lingering around the high corners of his cheekbones and the doughy imprints of those audaciously sweet dimples of his.

“My god, just look at him,” you sighed. “It’s like heaven tried to make focaccia bread when they made his face and decided to stop two pokes in because it was already perfect.”

Your sister looked between you and Namjoon, chuckling when the giant of a man turned away bashfully, as if those big shoulders could make him disappear.

“I told you he was pretty,” she shrugged. “And you gave me your judgy eyebrows.”

“I was a fool,” you sighed again. “In my defense, I didn’t know there could be boys prettier than Hobi around here.”

“Wait til you meet the children. Jimin and Jungkook are so beyond anything you could even comprehend. Beautiful little whores.”

“There’s more?” Your brows shot up high.

“Oh and Taehyung! Taehyung will charm you right out of your coat. He’s the dangerous one. I can’t even make eye contact with him without stammering,” she shook her head in derision.

“Whew boy, what a winter we’re in for.” You rocked up on your toes with a whistle.

“Winter is a mercy. Seokjin’s shoulders in summer? Glory be.”

Lovingly, you squeezed her tighter into your side. “At least we have Yoongi on our side.”

“Oh, no ma’am, we do not. He’s the worst one!”

“Min Yoongi ?” You gasped. “No!”

“Yes! He’ll sneak right up on you out of nowhere just when you think you’re finally friends and keep your glass full of wine all night until you accidentally spill all your most embarrassing high school secrets,” she muttered.

“No,…not the pyramid.”

“Yes, the pyramid. And he’ll get it on tape too. Adorable little bastard. Don’t let that cute little gummy smile fool you. He’s ruthless.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard your big sister curse before.

The pout on her face was too priceless not to laugh at so you did. The laughter was robust and full- it came straight from somewhere deep in your belly and pretty soon she was laughing too, hiding her face in the faux fur collar of your coat. The two of you clinging to each other as you cackled like wild children in the snow.

──────��─────────────────

Hoseok looked over the roof at the two of you and melted into an inordinately affectionate grin.

“You could just go ask her now and put yourself out of your misery, you know,” Namjoon chuckled to himself.

“Nah, she’s so happy right now. I’ll let them have their moment.”

Namjoon let himself study you.

The two of you looked so much alike yet so different. Your sister was all spun sugar and sweetness, quick as a dragonfly on the breeze. But you, well, he didn’t quite know how to put it into words. You were still sweet, but it was different. There was something more rich, a bit more solid about your aura. If your sister was candy floss, then his best guess - based on his limited interaction with you- was that you were salted caramel.

The thought had him pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He wanted to know what else made up the pieces of you. He wanted to get off this shift so he could be in the same room as you. So he could be alone with you.

He wanted to get you under the mistletoe and taste those pretty lips of yours.

But of course, that meant he had to have a coherent conversation with you first.

“Hey, quit undressing my baby sister with your eyes,” Hoseok snapped.

Namjoon shook his head, rattled the stars out of his eyes.

“My bad. Sorry, man.”

“I’ll let it slide this time,” Hoseok huffed. “Hey, I think I’m getting good at this protective big brother thing. That was pretty convincing right ?” He beamed proudly.

“More than you know… hey, we should be good here.”

Namjoon patted the now secure tree, rustling a bit of soft snow loose from its branches.

“Then it’s time to get this baby back on the road!”

Hoseok slapped the chassis and the car jingled— jingled!

“I can’t believe you’re gonna marry a Christmas elf,” Namjoon snickered.

“Hey, you’re one to talk, Yukon Cornelius. You work at a damn tree farm. Don’t judge me. Besides, I’m sure you’ll be next. Y/n is just as bad as her sister.”

Namjoon stole another glance your way, his eyes darting away in a flash when he realized you were already watching him, something sultry glittering in your gaze that he tucked away in his pockets to think about later.

“Maybe being next wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” he smiled to himself.

────────────────────────

Before you could get off the tree lot, Namjoon was running back to the car, something small in his hands that you couldn’t make out.

You were crammed in the back seat between the extra boughs your sister had bought to turn into wreaths and garlands. All the evergreen scents made you feel like a new car air freshener. God. It was gonna be a long ride back to the city.

Namjoon knocked on the glass in a hurry, and you rolled the window down. What on earth was he-

“You never got your cocoa.”

“What?”

“You said you were gonna wait to nurse it on the ride home so I got… I got you cocoa.” His volume trailed as he handed the cup to you, like he was second guessing every action in his life that had brought him to this moment.

“Oh, I…” you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t trust yourself not to open your mouth and accidentally tell him you were already in love with him and did he know a guy who could get you both a marriage license by sundown.

“Kim Namjoon. You absolute sweetheart,” your sister gushed from the front seat.

Namjoon’s cheeks went from rosy from the cold to plum from embarrassment. You’d never wanted to kiss someone’s eyelashes before.

“Well, that’s all. I gotta get back. i-“

“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes flicking up from beneath your lashes to meet his.

“I…. Yeah. I.. I hope you like it.” His smile was wide, inebriated, giddy. You swore you could see the stars during the daylight.

“I’m sure I will. Six o clock. Tonight. You can come right?”

He nodded, bobbleheaded and boysish.

“Yeah. I’ll grab the address from Hobi.”

“Oh will you now?” Hoseok piped up from the front.

“Hobi, shut up or I will end you,” you threatened through your own teeth as he and your sister laughed at you.

“Tonight?” You called to Namjoon as Hoseok began to shift the car into gear.

“Tonight!” Namjoon shouted back, both his arms waving over head as the car pulled off and he shrank into something small in the distance.

Settling back in your seat, you brought the cup to your lips and breathed in the steamy liquid. You noticed a little black heart drawn in sharpie on the cup, remembered seeing a sharpie tucked behind one of Namjoon’s ears and smiled to yourself like you’d just been passed a note in eighth grade.

You looked up to see two sets of eyes watching you in the rear view.

“Oh god, eyes on the road mom and dad. This has nothing to do with you.”

Your sister giggled, “well I for one am very happy for both of you.”

Hoseok chimed in with a “right? They’re cute.”

God. What a pair of menaces.

You sank in your seat but couldn’t help but smile.

“He is cute, isn’t he?” You whispered into your cocoa cup.

Maybe this wouldn’t be such a long ride home after all.

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“Why did I let you make me think this was a good idea? I don’t even have any furniture! What, we’re gonna make that Goliath sit on boxes for a chair?”

You were frazzled. Namjoon had texted Hobi that he’d be at your place in half an hour. Suddenly the idea of that massive man being in your tiny apartment drinking eggnog out of a solo cup that you’re sure would look like a shot glass in his massive hands made no sense at all.

“First of all, this was your idea,” Hoseok chuckled,” so don’t pin this on me.”

“Traitor.” You whispered.

“But if it makes you nervous, I can shout out the boys to swing by.”

“What? How does that make any sense? Why would we add more people I have no place for? Come on now, use the brain in that pretty head, Hobi.” You rapped your knuckles against his temple as he laughed at you- laughed!

“ I am! It’ll make it feel less like a date. Less pressure to talk one on one there’s a little more of a crowd,” he shrugged like it was that easy. Maybe it was.

“Okay. Fine. Do it. But somebody’s gonna have to bring food cuz there’s nothing in that fridge but eggs and kombucha.”

“God, we need to feed you, little one.” Hobi frowned, concerned.

“Groceries are on tomorrow's to do list. I wasn’t expecting to feed a small army today. I was just gonna grab some take out once you and the missus went home.”

“And you still can. I’ll see if JK can snag something from work.”

A key jingled in the lock as your sister shimmied her way in the door, arms filled with Christmas decorations with a string of gold tinsel draped across her throat like a feather boa.

“I’m back! Hobi, baby, I texted you. Can you bring the other bin up?”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and darted out the door.

“Holy mackerel, it’s gonna look like Santa’s workshop exploded in here.” You took in the sheer amount of tinsel, lights and decor your sister had managed to manhandle up the stairs.

“Oh stop you. They’re just extra decorations and props from the photography studio. I figured you can use what you like, and we’ll just put them back when the season’s over.” She shrugged.

“I’ll take free decorations that I don’t have to store any day.” You asserted with a grin. Peeling the sticky back off a command strip, you climbed up on a chair to hang the dang thing as close to the ceiling as you could reach. Your sister came behind you to spot you. No sense letting you break your neck before the guest of honor even got here.

“Most of our mini sessions are over anyway. Nobody should be trying to book their Christmas card photos after December 14th, and if they do, they deserve the Charlie Brown Christmas tree they get.”

It always tickled you when your sister tried to be matter of fact. You knew good and well she was too accommodating not to at least try to bend.

“Lay down the law, sis. Hey, hand me those string lights will you. Can you plug them in?”

The room burst into light in a cacophony of colors.

“Whew. Multi. Bold.”

“Sorry, I didn’t check if they were colorful or warm white first. Shoot.”

She looked so chagrined. It was so sweet. Here she was being so giving and thoughtful, and she really thought you were gonna have the nerve to be picky.

“Shush, you. They’ll look great. It’s kind of… cozy. Very vintage Christmas. Nostalgia chic,” you smiled, and she smiled with you, relieved.

“Hey, you don’t need to be nervous about Joonie.”

“I don’t?” You looked up at your sister through your lashes.

“He’s really a sweetheart.”

“I mean, I can tell that from space.” You smiled.

“Don’t be smart, you know what I mean, dummy.”

“Wait, which one am I ? Smart or dumb?” You laughed.

“Goofy. But I mean it. He’s such a good guy. His last relationship didn’t go so well,” the color of your sister’s voice changed then. “It was a long time ago. It was. I’m sure he hardly thinks about it anymore. It’s just, I think we’re all rooting for him to find someone who realizes just how lovely he is.”

Hobi chose just then to come clunking through the front door.

“Look who I found!”

Sure enough, all six foot something of Namjoon was right behind him, bashfully twisting a Santa hat between his nervous hands despite still wearing his little green beanie from the tree farm on his head.

Thirty minutes, my ass, you grumbled internally. But out loud you said : “Hey! You made it!”

He looked so big in your doorframe like that. Were his shoulders going to fit? Surely he was going to get stuck like Santa in a chimney flue.

“Looks like you guys got the tree up no problem.” He offered gently.

“Me and Hobi accessed our inner lumberjacks and got it done.” You flexed one bicep and Hoseok patted it like it was made of steel. You both giggled like the weirdos you were as Namjoon smiled softly, still hulking in your doorway like a vampire in need of an invite to cross the threshold.

“Come inside, you silly boy,” your sister tutted. “You’ve let half the winter in.” She tugged Namjoon’s sleeve as he ducked his head to come inside. God, you wanted to climb him like a tree.

He looked so nervous shucking his snow-caked boots off by your front door. It made you want to put him at ease.

“I can take your coat, and… whichever piece of headwear you’d prefer not to wear,” you eyed his double hat situation for the second time as he seemed to notice it for the first.

“Oh shoot. Am I still?” He snatched at his scalp and realized it was shrouded in green yarn. Pulling the beanie off, he inadvertently gave you a glimpse of his face framed by his thick head of tousled ebony hat hair. You weren’t sure if you wanted to climb up to fix it for him or pull him into your room and make it worse. “Can I use your bathroom?” He blurted.

“Mmm hmm. Down the hall, to the right.”

He thanked you, banking around you and the corner to hide in the bathroom.

As the door clicked shut, you locked eyes with your sister across the room. Even you felt how desperate you looked. She had the gall to laugh at you.

Traitor.

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Maybe this was going to be alright after all.

Sure enough, each of Hoseok’s boys rolled in, each one prettier than the last. The apartment had never been so blessed.

Jungkook brought two massive trays of food from chick fil a with enough side sauces to last until the apocalypse. What a fascinating juxtaposition he was. Wide eyes, innocent pink lips puckered unsurely around a little silver hoop and the dimensions of a Mack truck. How someone with that much ink curling across his skin was allowed to serve the lord’s chicken, you did not know, but you did know that god himself must have had a hand in sculpting his perky little peach of an ass. Glory.

Jimin and his obscenely pretty face brought champagne. Taehyung and his intense eyebrows brought vintage Christmas vinyls and a record player that looked like an old leather suitcase that he’d carried up the stairs on his hip like a briefcase. As soon as he’d gotten settled he’d put on Bing Crosby’s rendition of “white Christmas” and waltzed with Jimin around your kitchen island.

Seokjin brought the good food. Yoongi brought the good liquor. Your sister and Hoseok brought the laughter and joy.

It was a perfect way to spend a December night.

Somewhere during the course of the night, seokjin - who was wearing a Christmas sweater with an embroidered cat on it that he referred to as The Second Coming of Min Yoongi- decided to make an old fashioned popcorn garland for your tree. As he and Yoongi squabbled over how to properly thread a needle, you realized it had been ages since you’d seen Namjoon.

When he’d emerged from the bathroom earlier, his soft skin had been glistening as if he’d splashed water on his face. His hair looked to have been slicked back with wet hands, while one stubborn piece jutted forward to softly frame his brows. You’d gulped down your drink and avoided eye contact, knowing good and well your face was probably screaming “for the love of god, please marry me” every time you looked at him.

In your self-preservation, you feared it may have come across as plain avoidance. You needed to find him.

He’d driven all this way.

The tree farm was so far and he’d been working in the cold all day. Yet somehow he was here in your tiny home, without a single complaint.

Earlier in the night, you’d nearly tipped off your chair ladder trying to put the star on your tree and he’d caught you, scooping you up bridal style like it was as natural for him as breathing air. It was an unnecessary gesture. You really hadn’t been that far off the ground and the show of strength was absolutely welcome but embarrassing nonetheless. You’d been cradled in his chest again and god, it had taken everything in you to fight the instinct to bury your face between his pecs.

“Stop objectifying my sweet baby. You’ll taint him.” Hoseok had teased from across the room.

You’d shot him a death glare as a glum Namjoon had placed you gently on the ground.

“Sorry. Hope I didn’t make that awkward. I just… you were falling and…”

“It’s alright, Joon. Thank you.” Your smile was earnest. You watched the way his reaction played across his face like a movie. It made you want to kiss him. “Besides, I should’ve put the tallest man on the job in the first place.”

His dimples had reappeared then, and you’d felt the oxygen in the room go thin.

You’d been avoiding him ever since.

Pressing up off your IKEA futon and stepping around the push up - off a shirtless Jungkook was currently doing as Jimin sat cross legged on his back and Taehyung counted, you set off to find Namjoon.

In less than six hundred square feet, there weren’t many places he could go. Everyone else was in the kitchen/living room. That really only left the open bathroom, the balcony- which your sister and Hoseok were currently cuddled up on, watching the snow fall- and your bedroom.

You weren’t sure what you’d expected to find when you pushed open the door, but somehow Namjoon folded up on the floor studying the lower tier of your bookshelf actually made loads of sense. You hadn’t been aware someone that large could fold themselves into something so small. His long fingers trailed over the spines of your favorite books and something in your lower belly swirled.

You could have spent the rest of the night just watching him read.

That, however, even in your own home, might be kinda creepy so you decided to announce your presence instead.

“Howdy stranger,” you crooned, leaning shoulder first into the door jamb.

Namjoon startled, clutching his chest like you’d just given him a heart attack. His long limbs flailed, knocking into the bookshelf like the baby moose he was, sending a small picture frame careening down onto his head. It knocked his Santa hat off kilter, leaving the beautiful man looking like a bamboozled disaster.

Your laughter filled the room as he collected himself, straightening his hat and placing your frame back on the shelf. You came to sit beside him, hugging your knee and leaning one shoulder into his.

“Whatcha doing? Whatcha reading, more importantly?” You shot him a pointed look paired with a smile you hoped was disarming.

“Oh. Uh, nothing yet. I didn’t mean to pry. I just… well there was so much going on in the living room. I just wanted to get some air so I stepped in here, but I ended up getting lost in your book collection.”

His fingers trailed their spines again, and you felt a shiver down yours.

“You like to read?”

It was a pitiful question on your part really. Clearly he did. He was surrounded by your personal mini library, and it was the most comfortable you’d seen him be all day.

“Oh it’s the best thing, really. You can learn so much about a person by looking at the things they like to read.”

“And what have you learned about me?”

You felt yourself hold your breath as he looked down, dimples daring to show themselves again now that the two of you were in a private place.

“Well, it seems like you appreciate the classics, for one.”

His finger traced the curve of letters embossed in gold on an ivory spine.

“I went through an intense thrift shopping phase over the last few years. I got kind of obsessive about collecting beautiful books,” you confessed.

“You should come to my store sometime then. You’d love the first editions section.”

There was a pride glittering in beautiful dark brown eyes, the first swell of something like confidence showing in them.

“You work at a bookstore too?” You tilted your head to the side in question as his trademark sheepishness returned.

“Um, own. Co-own, really. Between me, Seokjin and Yoongi.”

“Stop- seriously?” You felt yourself press into his space without meaning to. The sharp, earthy smells of cedar and pine still swirled on him, but underneath that was soft clean soap. You found yourself wanting to press your nose into his throat. You realized too late that your eyes had been doing it for you, and Namjoon had caught you doing it.

Cleaning his throat, something in him seemed to grow bold.

He didn’t shy away anymore. He pressed up off the palms he’d been leaning back on and leaned into your space like you did into his. His thumb pulled your bottom lip out of your teeth, tracing along the edge of it softly.

“Seriously.”He whispered, the timber of his voice deep as winter.

His deep set gaze grew heavy as the moment lingered. You caught sight of his tongue flicking out to wet his full lips as his thumb traced yours and suddenly you felt all your grace leave you all at once.

“You should stay.”

It came out breathy, soft. You knew your face must have given away how molten you felt beneath his touch. He chuckled gently, eyes warm as he smirked. Only half a dimple this time, you noticed.

“Stay?” He arched a brow your way.

“When the others leave… you should stay.”

It was crazy, but the lightheaded part of you that was under his spell couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more.

Suddenly, he was soft again. Eyes no longer serpentine but wide. Kind.

“Is that… would you… like that?”

You smiled at him, sweet as strawberries, and then you were kissing him.

Just once. Slow, gentle, but deep.

There was a hint of cinnamon on his lips. Hobi had picked up some horchata at his favorite taqueria on the way back. He must have given some to Joon. You smiled against his mouth, licked into it once. Felt his chest vibrate with the groan it created.

When you pulled back, he was dazed, staring at you like you were made of stars. Eyeing you like he wanted to know what else you were made of. His lip bitten like he was too hungry to wait.

“Stay.” You breathed again.

“I’ll stay.” He whispered back.

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When the last person had left the apartment, you’d locked the door behind them.

Suddenly it was truly just you and him.

You’d turned, back to your front door and looked at him, eyes sultry, smile sweet.

Namjoon was across the room, too busy drinking you in to remember how to move. But you hadn’t forgotten, it seemed. You took your time crossing the small room. The vivid lights cast bursts of blue and red across your skin- it made your eyes look unearthly, tempting in a way Namjoon was incapable of fighting.

You stopped in front of him, palms pressed to his chest. He felt his eyelids grow heavy at the sensation, but he wouldn’t let his eyes close. Not yet. He didn’t want to miss a moment of you.

You slid your hands up his chest, alongside his throat, skimming his jaw and cupping his face. You stood between his legs and god, did he want to rock his hips against you. You were already leaning into him, your hips pressed into his pelvis. What were his corduroys gonna do? He knew you could feel him already swelling against you.

Your brushed soft thumbs across the angles of his face. He reciprocated by tenderly pushing your hair out of your face. Was your heart racing like his?

Slipping his hands down, he tugged the buckle of your belt forward into him with a thunk. He crept his thumbs beneath the sweater you’d tucked into your high black jeans, and let his fingers swirl against your stomach, smoothing over the dips at your waist. Your body was so soft. He felt himself grow warmer, swell against you harder. When your eyes clouded over and your bit your lip, he knew he was sunk.

“I’m gonna take this off now, okay ?” He whispered, tugging at your sweater as you nodded, glassy eyed and obedient, up at him. Jesus.

Why was he whispering? He didn’t know. It just felt right, he thought. Felt right like being beside you all night had felt. Felt right like he knew being inside you was gonna feel.

When he slipped the sweater up over your head, your earring got caught. A little gold hoop snagged in the knit.

Breathe, he reminded himself, go slow. You don’t have to rush.

He soon realized that was advice he was going to need to take to heart in more ways than one the second he untangled you and saw your glittering smile glowing brightly, saw the way your breasts were spilling smooth and fleshy over the confines of your lacy little balconette bra.

Jesus. Fuck.

Turns out he’d said both out loud and your glossy eyes grew hungrier the longer he looked at you.

“Do something, daddy.” You teased, voice low, gaze heady.

“Christ, y/n,” he drawled as his self-control blacked out.

Soon he was pushing your breasts together, burying his face between them. Sucking one into his warm mouth, scooping the other loose from the dark lace. He had one large hand firmly fitted just behind the buckle of your jeans as the other cupped your breast that wasn’t in his mouth, thumb diligently flicking your nipple until it grew stiff like a meringue peak. He slipped that one in his mouth then, tongue picking up pace his thumb had set and tweaking the nipple on your other breast.

You panted beneath his touch, sinking and molding into him like warm clay in his hands. He wasn’t sure when his hips had started to glide against you, but god, yours were moving too, supple and fluid like water. He needed to get you out of the rest of these clothes. He needed to find out if he could mark your breasts and neck black and purple with his mouth like he wanted to while he fucked you. You really did taste sweet, just like he thought you would. God, he wanted to take a bite out of you.

Pleasantries first though, he reminded himself.

Pushing his head back against the wall, he tried to catch his breath but your nimble fingers were working open the snaps on his corduroys instead.

“Question-“ he asked breathless.

“Answer,” you grinned, triumphant as you finally popped the latch on his pants.

“Jesus, fuck. Cripes.” His eyes fluttered shut as you ran his zipper down and reached beneath his boxer briefs to grab him.

“Which one of those was a question?” You smirked, licking your thumb before brushing it gently across the fleshy tip of him. His stomach dipped in, toned muscle crunching in on itself as your big man buckled under your touch.

“Okay, okay okay. I’m gonna have to ask this quick before you make me spontaneously finish on your tits touching me like that. Whew.” His eyes were blown, head back. Unprepared for you licking more fingers and slipping back down to gingerly play with his balls. “Oh my gooooooood. Okay. Okay. Okay. Marks?”

“Like hickies?” You asked curiously, your hand moving of its own accord to grip him firmly at the base and pull up.

“Yeah, yeah hickies,” he panted, his pretty skin growing sweaty.

“I like that.” You smiled, wide and way too pretty for him to handle right now.”it’s winter. Go crazy, big boy.”

He nodded raggedly, his brow furrowed deep as he bit his lip. He almost looked angry, he had no way of knowing it made you incredibly aroused.

“Tits. I like your…tits. A lot. So much. They’re so pretty.”

You smiled into his throat as you kissed his neck and pumped him silly.

“Joonieee, youre so sweet.” You nipped at his collarbone, giggling at shiver that ran through him.

“Would it… could I… Jesus, woman, why are you so good at that? Screw this. Fuck it. Can I cum on you, your chest at the end of this?” His eyes were direct now, serpentine and lusty as he licked his lips, ran a thumb along the swell of your breast.

“Yeah ?” You ran your tongue along his neck, sending another tremor through him.

“Yeah. You’d look so pretty with my cum on your chest. I mean, they look so pretty already, but Yeah, god yeah I want that.” he nodded.

“Okay. Promise. You can finish on my pretty titties, if you want.” You laughed.

“I want.”

“I’ll even let you fuck them if you want.”

“Christ. You said…what?” He was out of breath, lightheaded from the thought of himself being pressed between the two warm pillowy clouds on your chest.

“Uh huh, if you don’t finish inside me first, that is,” you breathed in his ear.

“Oh my god. Not fair. Get on the bed, now.” He said it with an edge, a grit you didn’t expect from your sweet nervous Christmas tree man. A bite that made you want to obey. Made you want to fuck his brains out. Made you want to be his baby girl so you followed along and played nice. He fumbled with your belt as you melted. You did what you were told and climbed back on up onto the bed, stripping the rest of the way for him along the way.

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As he followed, he pulled his thick wool sweater over his head, black hair falling in gorgeous eyes as he did. The full reveal of his torso left the space between your legs glossy and sticky in ways you hadn’t known it could be. His Jeans and black boxer briefs went next and then he was climbing up and over you, golden and lanky and strong and hung.

Jesus , fuck, Indeed.

He smiled at you, sourdough dimples and serpentine eyes as he slowed down.

“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?”

You nodded, obedient, nervous, eager. You wanted him. God, how did you describe how badly you wanted Kim Namjoon? His lips were plump, sweet, inexhaustibly delicious. His tongue slipped deep into your mouth, his hand firm but sweet on your hip as it climbed up your torso.

Your tits were in his mouth again, tongue flicking wildly as he moaned around your fullness and your nipple. He tweaked the other, switching back and forth as he rutted his too big dick into the meat of your thigh.

“Question,” you gasped, breathless.

“Answer, baby,” his hooded eyes were looking darkly up at you as his thumb slipped its way down to gloss smoothly over your silky clit. You cried out, and he smiled, mouth still filled with your voluptuous tit.

“Daddy?” You questioned, and the primal groan that rattled through his chest and through the sharp twitch of his dick against your leg answered any further queries you had to ask.

“Yes, please, baby. “

He slid up to suck a dark splotch into your neck, his dick sliding up and catching on the slippery ridge of your clit as he did.

“I can call you that ? Can I call you daddy?” You gasped.

He simply nodded, dropping kisses along your collarbone and throat as he lined up to finally slip inside you. The fit was snug, the drag of him along your inner walls sublime as he rocked, working you more and more open to the massive size of him. You smiled, delirious, giddy, as he fucked you like you were divine.

You came three times that night, he came twice. Once inside you and once on your pretty tits. Then one more time down your throat in the morning.

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“There’s not much, but I have…. Let’s see. Coffee, kombucha, seokjin’s leftover gingerbread men… oh and eggs. Can I make you eggs?” You fluttered your lashes up at him. “I’d really like to make you eggs.”

Namjoon looked so cute. Face puffy, lips full. Hair still damp from the shower he took. You’d both been too nervous to shower together, so you’d taken turns and done it separately. You thanked god you actually owned two bath towels to make it possible. He was so adorable. It made you want to cook for the man.

“Sure,” he nodded. Mercy, his voice was even deeper in the morning. He’d barely used it so far today, aside from the sexy groans that had spilled out of him this morning when you’d woken him up with your cheek resting sweetly on his inner thigh and his cock in your warm mouth. (You’d gotten consent the night before, of course.)

“Um, how do you take your coffee? And is scrambled okay? I make really good scrambled eggs.”

He smiled warmly, his gruff exterior softening with your exuberance. He nodded his assent and you got to work getting out the egg carton, your chopsticks, the milk and your lone skillet.

“Oh, wait. Your coffee, how do you take your coffee?”

You turned in your robe, a harsh pivot, just to accidentally end up nose to Namjoon’s sweatshirt covered tits with an Ooof.

He kissed your hair, a deep chuckle from the depths of his throat booming through his chest. He was wearing one of your giant college sweatshirts ( that fit just on the roomy side of just right on him) and his black boxer briefs, his substantial thighs looking gorgeous as ever as he stood barefoot in your kitchen. What a turn of events.

He slipped his sturdy arms around your waist from behind, pushing up against the underside of your boobs and buried his blushing face in your hair.

“Black. Just a little cream is good.” He murmured as you sank back against him.

You weren’t used to how soothing another person’s presence could be.

“Gotcha. I’ll grab the-“

He chuckled, pulling you tightly into him to stop your scurrying.

“Shhh. I got it. Thank you.” He pressed a kiss deep into the skin on your neck. It melted you just a little bit further into the solidity of him.

“For what?”

“Last night. This morning. Yesterday. All of it.”

His confidence dipped again. Cockiness replaced by a sincerity so disarming you felt your heart dip softly. He’s so sweet, you thought as you gently caressed the forearm he had draped over your stomach.

“Yes, well…I ….” it was then you realized you didn’t know what to say. In lieu of words, you kissed his palm.

“You’re already making us breakfast. Least I can do is grab my own coffee… you want some?” He nudged the tip of his nose against the top of your ear.

Being that close to his voice made you shiver. You nodded without realizing it. The sound of his voice made you want to be so obedient to him. Why were you so turned on by him being kind, damnit ?

His hands fitted themselves to your hips, pushing the fullness of your bottom back against his hips. You were about to tell him you take yours with sugar and more cream than coffee when your phone began to ring.

Startled, you bolted out of his arms to find… your sister trying to FaceTime you?

Kissing Namjoon’s cheek, you stepped away to answer. Queuing up the screen, you were thoroughly unprepared for brilliant, happy screams pealing through the phone. There was too much motion to make out an image at first, until finally. you caught a glimpse of sparkle. It was the ring Hoseok had shown you a picture of the day he decided to custom order it for your sister.

“Hobi proposed!!!” Your sister squealed. No regard for the neighbors, this one.

“When?”

“Last night. When we got home. Y/n it was perfect…. I could tell he seemed weird when we were on the balcony yesterday, oddly stiff. Like he was trying to tell me something, but it wasn’t making any sense. I teased him and told him to try again later. I was just being dumb- I didn’t know! but when we got home, I had gone upstairs to change out of my Christmas tree clothes and when I came back. He was on his knees in the kitchen.”

Your sister clasped a hand over her mouth as her eyes filled with happy tears. Smart boy, he’d listened to you and Namjoon.

“Y/n, I’m gonna be a wife. I'm gonna marry Hobi. Y/n, I’m so happy I could cry,” she sniffled as tears spilled over the backs of her knuckles.

“Baby, you are crying,” you teased, your own eyes growing glassy too.

“Hey, that’s MY BABY” you heard Hoseok yell from somewhere off camera.

“She was mine first,” you stuck your tongue out petulantly.

“Congrats, man!” Namjoon cheered from his spot by your coffee pot.

“Thanks bro!” Hoseok called back.

“Wait.” Your sister started….

Oh no.

“Was that…” Hoseok added.

No. No. No. no. No.

“Oh my god. Y/n, was that Namjoon?! Did he spend the night?!? Oh my gosh are you two in love now?!?

Startled you let you out something between a yelp and a shriek, dropping your phone on the carpet.

“Did you hold onto those arms of his all night?” Your sister teased.

“Wait-“ Hoseok interrupted ,” do you have a thing for Namjoon’s arms babe?”

“Everyone does,” your sister quipped.” You do too Hobi.”

“That’s not the point… eh! We’re Balenciaga buddies!” Hoseok cheered, the snap of elastic ringing through the air.

Apparently your phone fell in such a way that the camera gave them a beautiful view of Namjoon’s sleek black briefs and the tree trunks they were stretched around.

“Stop objectifying him!” You scolded Hoseok.

“I will when you do!” He taunted.

“Oh my god I can’t do this.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed as Namjoon scooped both you and your phone up from behind again

“Then I will.” He whispered in your ear. “Congratulations you guys!”

Hoseok and your sister gushed something sticky sweet about how obnoxiously in love you and Namjoon were and you couldn’t help it, you smiled too. You told your sister how happy you were for her, promising to call her later with all the juicy details before finally hanging up the phone and burying your face in Namjoon’s hard tiddy. Which he flexed for you, god bless him, before also flexing his yummy, yummy arms around you until you burst into a fit of giggles.

“I like this,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Me too…. Got any plans today?.”

“Nope. I’m off the rest of the weekend.”

“Wanna go grocery shopping with me after I cook you eggs?”

“Are you just using me for my car?” He squinted slyly at you with a smile.

“No. That hadn’t occurred to me actually. I was actually planning on using your height and your body for my own personal benefit.” You answered thoughtfully.

“Oh.” His eyes went a bit wide like he hadn’t thought about that option. “Well. Then. Can I use you for yours?” He asked innocently.

“Sure. Although, you should know, I’m all talk. I’m the biggest softie…. I’m pretty sure if you’d asked me to marry you when we were talking tree-sourcing ethics, I would have strongly considered saying yes.”

Crap. You hadn’t planned on admitting all that. This was his fault. He was just so damn sincere. Those stupid eyes of his were so goddamn kind. You kept forgetting to put a guard up around him.

As you braced for him to be thoroughly traumatized by your admission, nothing of the sort came. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he hugged you beneath the ribs and hoisted you in a circle, nuzzling his cheek tenderly into your cheek.

“Oh thank GOD” he exhaled.

“I’m sorry- what?”

“I’ve spent all morning trying to figure out how to tell you how much I like you without making you feel like you might become the subject of the next true crime podcast.” He ran a hand through his silky hair as you stood stunned where he’d set you down to process his words.

“You….”

“Yeah…”

“That bad?”

“Honestly I’m not opposed to taking your last name if you asked me.” He shrugged.

You covered your face with both hands, shaking it ruefully despite the cosmically bright smile on your face. Soon you were both howling with laughter in each other’s arms, smiling into Namjoon’s deep eyes.

“This is crazy! We’re crazy.”

“I know.” He nodded in agreement.

“I like you.”

“I really like you.”

“I don’t know the first thing about you.”

“Let’s find out together, shall we?”

You felt your eyes fill with annoyingly happy tears. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“You just moved here right?”

“Yeah. Finally- should have done it ages ago. My turn-Why do you and Hoseok have matching designer underwear ?”

“We all do actually. It was Jimin and Seokjins doing a couple Christmases ago.”

“But just one pair each right?”

“Yeah?” Namjoon nodded, brows hunched in confusion.

“Okay. So that means you’re telling me you and Hobi just happened to be on the same daily boxer rotation the day you both fucked a pair of sisters with the same DNA?”

“Please don’t word it that way.” Namjoon grimaced.

“I worded it how it is,” you shrugged.

“My turn. Why do you really want me to go to the grocery with you, Hmm?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Besides the company? For the view when I make you stretch for everything I’ve ever needed on the top shelf, Babyyy.”

“Oh my god. Are you serious?” He couldn’t contain his laughter.

“As a heart attack.” You winked.

“C’mon. Show me how you make these super fluffy eggs I’ve heard so much about. I’m starving. The gorgeous girl who owns this apartment milked me dry three times in less than twelve hours. I’m famished.”

Goddamn him and those cheeky little dimples.

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[withlovewriting]

All I Ever Knew, Only You 10: Billy Blue Balls

Chapter Ten.

I get so distracted by some people's reactions, That I don't see my own faults, For what they are, for what they are, At times, so self-destructive, With no intent or motive, But beyond this emotion, A sensible heart.

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 5,852

Chapter Warnings: strong language, child abuse, drug use, steve isn't in this one much, but he shall be back with a vengeance, Eddie is kinda a dick, but it's all good I promise, Billy is a dick which is just expected at this time, reader is also a bit of a dick you ain't getting away with shit either, buddy. Barb is also queer-coded and I do not care to elaborate.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

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Chapter Ten: Billy Blue Balls

A content sigh fell from your lips as you snuggled deep down into the comforter's warmth, the smell of laundry detergent mixed with bergamot and amber wood lulling you back into a light sleep despite the sound of far-off water running.

For a few sweet moments, you were blissful. Warm and safe as the sun burned against your eyelids, trying its hardest to pull you from your slumber.

But it wasn’t the sun that finally managed to rouse you. Instead, it was the soft shove of your shoulder, the familiar but displaced voice of Steve Harrington that caused your eyes to shoot open, the sudden intrusion of light forcing them back shut as you tried to wiggle under the duvet.

“C’mon, we gotta leave in like, five minutes.”

And he wasn’t joking. Peeling your eyes open, you could’ve throttled the boy as he watched you with amusement as you tried to get a bearing of your surroundings, confused about the boy's appearance until you noticed that you in fact were the displaced one.

“My Dad’s already left for work and my Mom headed out a few minutes ago. I don’t think we’re gonna have time to swing back to yours, so just throw these on,” Steve placed a pile of folded clothes onto the bed next to you as he grabbed his school bag.

“Jesus Christ, your interior decorating skills could use some work,” you grumbled, face pinched as you looked around the plaid-filled room.

Rolling his eyes, Steve grabbed a shirt from his chest of drawers and threw it into his bag, ready for his physical education class, “My Mom designed it, not me.”

“Okay then, your Mom’s interior decorating skills could use some work. I mean, matching curtains? Really? God, It’s making me nauseous.”

A small huff of laughter fell from his lips as he threw his backpack over one shoulder before placing both hands on his hips, much like you’d expect an annoyed mother to as she tried to peel her child from their bed, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the gallon of pure fuel you drank last night. Now get up, seriously. We have to leave.”

Practically herding you into his car, you grumbled the entire ride to school. Originally, you’d told him to just drop you home — even if you didn’t have time to change — and you would happily play hooky today if it meant not having to open your eyes for the remainder of the day, but he wasn’t having it, “You can walk from the school if you’re that desperate.”

“Who even has a party on a Wednesday? God, I hate Tina.”

The boy sent you an amused glance from the corner of his eyes as he shut his car door. As you stepped into the cold November air, you were thankful for the sweater Steve had lent you.

“Somehow, I don’t think you can blame this one on-”

“I mean, sheet-faced? In the middle of the week? It’s like she was trying to set us up.”

Walking through the school hallway with Steve at your side, you were all too aware of the peculiar stares you were receiving, giggles and quiet muttering as you passed made your whole body feel too warm, and if you didn’t think you’d upchuck at any moment, you’d of barreled right back out of the door and ran home.

Steve, however, kept his eyes front and center, either unaware or uncaring of the hushed whispers as you passed. And it wasn’t until the second period that you found out why.

Storming toward the gymnasium, your stomach churned with more than just the remnants of whatever the hell was in that punch bowl last night. You were infuriated, certain that steam was coming out of your ears as you pushed the doors open, unperturbed by their bashing against the wall. Like a mad woman, you were on a mission.

“Hargrove,” You called across the gym, the screeching of sneakers against the floor drowning you out, causing you to repeat yourself, only this time much louder, “Hargrove.”

Billy’s head turned toward you, his frown transforming as he sent you a haughty grin. Throwing the ball to his teammate, the boy made his way toward you slowly, strutting like a damned peacock, and you forced yourself to keep your eyes on his face,

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously, were you dropped on your head as an infant or something?”

His smirk faltered slightly, eyes glinting with a flash of animosity, “Oh, you’ve got a temper when you’re hungover.”

“I’m not joking, Hargrove. What the hell have you been telling people about last night?”

His tongue darted out, licking the corner of his mouth, “Hey, don’t take it out on me just because you can’t handle your drink. I only said what happened. What people saw.”

You could feel some of the student’s eyes on you, much like you had since the minute you stepped out of Harrington’s car that morning, but you pushed on.

“Nothing happened, Billy. People didn’t see shit, because nothing happened.”

A deep laugh fell from his lips, mocking you even as his cerulean eyes leered over your body, “Exactly, sweetheart. Imagine my surprise when it turns out you’re not the little whore I was told about. You’re just a prude who likes giving guys blue balls.”

“I don’t owe you shit-”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” the boy shrugged, causing you to scoff and walk away from him, knowing this conversation was going nowhere. Still, the boy continued, grasping at any straw he could to inflict the same pain and embarrassment on you that his fragile ego was currently suffering, “Or, maybe, it wasn’t me you put out for, huh? I mean, I heard you were seen crawling into King Steve’s car last night.”

His attention turned toward the boy, who was already watching the altercation, “That right, Harrington? Wheeler doesn’t want you, so you thought ‘Hey, why the hell not’-”

In your sober state, hitting Billy didn’t feel as good as it did the night before. Unable to control it, your fist flew toward his nose, cutting his sentence off as a collection of shocked gasps fell from the other students.

Wiping away the trickle of blood from his nostril, Billy’s expression had lost all humor as he stepped into your space, bumping you backward slightly, “That’s twice you’ve done that. Next time, I won’t be so nice about it.”

“Whoa, hey man-”

The coach’s whistle broke the tension and Billy stepped around you, shoulder-checking Steve as he passed him, the latter much closer than you’d realized. His eyes followed Billy as he returned to the court, knocking the basketball from another student's grip, before eventually returning to you a little softer,

“Hey-”

“Forget it, Harrington.”

The boy’s sneakers squeaked along the linoleum as he followed you, uncaring of the coach’s and his teammates' calls for him.

“Hey, hey… Slow down a minute. What’s going on?”

“Like you don’t know,” you scoffed as your feet pounded the floor. Any faster, and you’d be breaking out into a run.

The boy stuttered for a moment, his eyes as wild as his hair as he tried to piece together what had just happened. Pulling the arm of his sweater and effectively stopping you, he kept his voice calm and low as you panted in anger,

“Look, I just had like, the worst fight with Nancy, so the last thing I need right now is for you to be mad at me too. Whatever Billy did, whatever I did... I’m sorry, alright?”

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tried your best to calm yourself. Deep breaths, counting to ten, imagining you’re in a far-off, safe place where nothing and no one could hurt you… All the things Barb had tried to teach you over the years. But your heart still pounded against your chest, blood coursing through your veins as hot as lava,

“I don’t… I don’t think we should hang out anymore.”

Steve’s brows furrowed, trying his best to catch your eyes, “What are you talking about-”

“People think I left Billy at the party and slept with you instead.”

The silence between you was deafening, Steve’s mouth opening a few times before clamping shut as his brain caught up with itself, “But you didn’t. We didn't.”

“Yeah, no shit, Harrington, I’m aware of that. But it hasn’t stopped people gossiping about it all morning,” you narrowed your eyes before folding your arms over your chest, “So I think it’s best, for Nancy’s sake, that we just… Stay away from each other.”

You didn’t give him a moment longer to reply, marching off into the girls' toilets to go and run your throbbing hand under the cold tap.

Laying on your front, you flicked through the pages of the magazine that was spread in front of you, “Do you really read this shit? I mean, ‘Pretty clothes for right now!’ and ‘When your boyfriend forgets your birthday!’ You can’t tell me you actually enjoy these magazines, B.”

Barbara pulled the magazine from you, closed it, and placed it on top of her desk, “I don’t know. I mean, I know they’re dumb but…”

You watched as she shrugged, her eyes never leaving the cover of the Seventeen magazine you’d been mocking.

“I mean, wouldn’t we all buy this shit if Brooke Shields was on the front of every cover?” Your grin widened as you watched Barb’s face flush.

Quickly turning the magazine over, she sent you a sideward glare, “You’re not funny.”

“I bet Brooke Shields is hilarious-”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Barb grumbled, grabbing a small throw pillow from the bottom of her bed and aiming for your head.

Fumbling to catch it, the pillow bounced off the top of your head as you sat up, lightly hitting her with it, “She’s so pretty and so funny and so smart!”

Barb’s giggles blended with your own as she tried to dodge the pillow, eventually throwing herself down onto the bed when her mother’s voice called up the stairs, telling you in the nicest way possible to settle down.

“I’m never telling you anything ever again.” She smirked, turning her head to watch you, a glint in her eyes reassuring you that her words held no weight.

This time, it was your turn to shrug, “Oh, I’m sure. You know I’m an excellent secret keeper.”

“I know,” Barb released a deep sigh, her eyes remaining on you as they glazed over slightly, “You know I trust you with my life, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to lay on your back next to her, “Is that why you ditched me to go see ‘Grease 2’ with Nancy Wheeler last weekend?”

You didn’t want to sound jealous, but the tang of bitterness dripped off your tongue, causing Barb to sit up on her bed, legs crossed in front of her, “We did invite you. You were the one who didn’t want to go.”

“Go and watch you drool all over Michelle Pfeiffer whilst Nancy delicately sighs any time Maxwell Caulfield is on the screen? Yeah, no thanks. I’ll pass.”

Pinching your side, Barb sent you a playful grin, “How about we go to Family Video and see if we can find someone to rent us ‘Halloween II’?”

Interested piqued, you sat up, legs crisscrossed, “But you hate scary movies.”

“But I like you.”

The loud SMACK against your table made you shoot upright, Mr. Mundy’s yardstick only a few inches from where your hand rested on your plain sheet of paper. As he looked at the paper, tutting when he realized not only had you been sleeping during detention, you also hadn’t written any of the lines down that you were meant to,

“It would do you well to remember that corporal punishment is still legal in the state of Indiana.”

Glaring at the back of Mr. Mundy’s head as he passed by, you scrambled for your unused pencil as soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of your detention. Apparently punching another student in plain sight of a teacher resulted in consequences of the writing lines after school kind.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Hawkins High’s own little miss delinquent. Heard a lot about you today.”

The locker next to your own creaked under the boy's weight, and you couldn’t help but note the slight animosity in the boy’s tone.

“Thought you of all people knew not to believe everything you hear in the school hallways, Munson.”

“Yeah, see… normally I wouldn’t give a shit about the vapid scuttlebutt between the kretens of this school, but this one really piqued my interest.”

Slamming your locker shut, Eddie didn’t even flinch, instead his dark eyes watched you carefully.

“Eddie, it’s been a long day, so please just cut the dramatic shit and get to the point.”

“Wow, does that sparkling personality come with a brand new shiny pair of pom-poms?” Eddie’s smirk didn’t meet his eyes as he shook his hands to each side of his head, imitating a half-assed cheer routine, “Or is it only exclusive to us peasants?”

“Eddie-”

“Heard you and King Steve are pretty close, too. Didn’t take you for a traitor.”

You were at your limit, and Eddie loved to toe the line.

“Steve and I are… Not friends but, we went through some really tough shit last year-”

“Don’t even try me with that sob story shit. Last year I saw him drag you down a hallway and now you’re telling me you’re just cool with him? Like he isn’t a total dick-”

“He isn’t, alright? He… He used to be, sure. And he knows that. But things happened last year, and he’s been trying-”

“Heard things happened last night, too.”

Eddie knew it was a hit below the belt. You knew it, too. But sometimes the boy’s mouth moved before his brain had fully caught up.

“Nothing happened, Munson.”

Shrugging, Eddie’s sardonic smirk tugged at his face in an almost unnatural way that didn’t suit his normally soft features, “Not what I heard-”

“I didn’t think someone like you would pay much attention to small-town gossip. Especially after this year.”

His brows scrunched together, his dark eyes watching you closely as his head cocked to the side. You weren’t exactly friends with Eddie, either. But you’d shared enough shifts at the Hideout the previous year to know what had gone down with his family, with his dad.

“And why’s that?”

This time, you were the one suffering with word vomit, “Because we both know why your house got burned down, don’t we? The fact your father ran and left you to deal with his consequences. The fact everyone else in town believes you did it.”

Eddie’s eyebrows dipped, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he struggled to swallow down the lump that had crawled its way up his throat whenever he thought of his father and the shit he left him to deal with earlier that year. It was low-hanging fruit, but it was all you had.

Stepping forward and into your space, Eddie let out a forced huff of laughter, peering down at you with eyes that seemed endlessly dark, “And where’s your Dad, huh? Probably got a whole new family.”

Your chest heaved as you bit down on the insides of your cheeks. You would not cry in front of Eddie.

"Fuck you, Munson."

"Yeah, well... fuck you too, sweetheart."

Turning on your heel you rushed down the hallway, the blood pounding so loudly in your ears that you didn’t hear Eddie’s hushed ‘fuck’ as you left, the back of his head hitting the locker he’d been leaning on.

After heading home, you changed into your work uniform and quickly cycled your way toward the woods. Whether you’d admit it or not, you were seeking some form of comfort, and knowing you wouldn’t receive it from your mother you headed towards Hopper’s cabin. Your day had gone from bad to worse, your hand still aching from a punch that probably caused you more damage than Billy, the intrusive eyes of your peers judging you from every side of the hallway, whispered giggles swarming around you like a cloud of — not killer, but very annoying — wasps, their harsh, hushed words clearly about you. And the fight with Eddie? Well, he had started that, but it had shaken you nonetheless.

You just wanted to sit in the presence for a moment of someone who wasn’t mocking, cruel, or nosy, and catch your breath.

You could hear the ruckus as you approached, remembering to step over the trip-wire just in time and you couldn’t help but think that if Hopper was trying to keep this place secluded, he should probably stop shouting so goddamn loudly.

Wrapping your denim jacket tighter over your chest, you picked up your pace as you jogged up the few stairs of the porch, almost as decayed as your own.

Banging on the door a few times, you watched as your breath puffed out in small clouds around you, making you crave a cigarette. The argument had seemingly stopped, the cabin a little too quiet.

“Hop? Let me in, it’s freezing.”

You could hear the man mumble under his breath as he made his way toward the door, the sound of him unlocking several locks before he pulled it open, a deep line between his eyebrows as his glare burned down on you,

“We have a code. The code is there for a reason. It’s not some silly little game we made up for fun. It’s a goddamn code. For a goddamn reason.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took a step back, his clipped tone causing your heckles to rise. Pushing the door wider, you sent your own glare back, “I forgot, alright? It’s freezing and my brain doesn’t work too well in extreme temperatures.”

“Kid, I swear to god-”

“Who the hell pissed in your coffee this morning?”

You stopped short as you finally saw El, the girl standing in her bedroom seemingly on the verge of hyperventilating in frustration, “Hey, El-”

“Did you know?”

Turning back to Hopper, the glare returned to your face. You weren’t too keen on his tone, “Did I know what?”

Hopper shook his head, a small huff of laughter that held no amusement falling from his lips, “Did you put this in her head? I mean, it's what you said would happen, right? Some shit about caged dogs, and biting and shit?”

“Hop, I literally have no fucking clue what is going on right now, or why the hell you’re mad at me.”

“You’re grounded,” Jim returned his attention toward the younger girl, “You know what that means? It means no more Eggos and no TV for a week.”

You watched with bemusement as Hopper made his way around the small cabin, throwing the frozen waffle box into the trash before making his way past you to grab the TV. Once El reached your side, you noticed the dark drop of blood from her nostril as Jim struggled to move the television set.

“All right, knock it off. Let go.”

El merely shook her head as the blood dripped down her cupid's bow, but Hopper was not in a joking mood, instead almost putting his back out as he shook the damn thing, “Okay. Two weeks. Let go.”

Another shake of the head.

“A month!”

“El, I’d really-”

“No.”

The girl's cool composure, the sheer confidence in her power alone was unnerving, but her unwavering stare had made even you feel uncomfortable.

“Well congratulations,” Hopper puffed, “You just graduated from no TV for a month, to no TV at all.”

“Hopper, c’mon…”

“No!” El screamed out as the man pulled the cable from the back of the TV.

Rushing toward the set, El frantically tried to move the antenna in a vain attempt to turn it back on.

“You have got to understand that there are consequences to your actions.”

“You are like Papa!”

Your back straightened as you watched Hopper struggle to keep what little composure he had left. Rubbing his forehead, you could see the distress pass over his features as he questioned El.

“Wow, alright. You wanna go back to the lab? One phone call and I can make that happen.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled, watching the ongoing tennis match between the two. But it wasn’t until El started hurtling books and moving sofas into Hopper that you forced your way back into the argument, “Hey, how about you both just cool it for a second and-”

Dodging out of the way of the falling bookcase, you backed into the small end table and jolted when the corner of it dug a little too deep into your back. Almost losing your balance, you threw your hand back to try and steady yourself, a loud shattering noise catching your attention as a photo frame fell to the floor.

Turning, you saw the picture of a young girl with bright blonde hair and even brighter blue eyes smiling up at you, a large crack distorting her face as the shards of glass that surrounded her splintered into thousands of pieces.

The scream that fell from Eleven’s lips shook the whole cabin, every window surrounding both yourself and Jim shattering inward, causing the windows to shatter, flying at you from all directions.

Silence fell between you both — the sound of your heartbeat drowning out the sounds of El’s soft sobbing — and you felt your own chest begin to hyperventilate, vision becoming blurry from the tears that now lined your waterline, but it wasn’t until the man turned around and saw what had caught your attention,

“Hop. I’m so sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t see it, and I didn’t mean to... I can fix it-”

You rubbed your sweaty palms over your trousers, forcefully trying to swallow down the familiar lump, unable to tell whether it was a sob or vomit.

Jim’s silence only made you feel worse. Like a deer that was looking down the barrel of a shotgun, a voice in the back of your head screaming at you to run, but your feet felt glued to the floor and despite your scattered thoughts, your mind still tried to dig around for an excuse.

“You should go.”

Hopper’s voice — a little too cool, and much too calm — unsettled you. You’d expected him to shout, to yell, hell… You’d expect the man to cry before this. His stoic, unnerving calm, despite the tornado that had just ripped his cabin apart, the framed and now cracked photograph of his deceased daughter lying on the floor, staring up at you with such familiar eyes, despite never meeting the girl.

“Jim, I’m-”

“Go. Please.”

Your mother’s backhand hurt less.

Work passed by all too quickly, and for once you were glad not to get a moment of silence, the kids rushing between machines and pestering you to at least try and turn Mrs. Pacman back on, despite it breaking a few days ago — the repair man still not coming out to fix it — and a constant barrage of Slushee orders meaning it would be much less time consuming to clean at the end of your shift.

Before you knew it, the last of the straggling kids had been ushered out of the doors, the machines had been wiped clean from sticky fingers and Keith had handled the toilets. Eventually, the boy had locked up and you were unchaining your bike from the bike rack when you heard the slam of a car door.

Spinning around on the spot, your heart no longer threatened to jump out of your chest when you recognized the mop of hair heading toward you, dark eyes akin to a puppy dog who’d chewed up your favorite sneakers and got caught.

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Eddie assumed that you not storming off yet was a good sign, “Thought you closed at 9.”

“You’ve been here for two hours? God, do you have any other friends, Munson?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he huffed, the leather of his vest cracking slightly as he folded his arms over his chest, “I spent most of that time trying to get into the restricted section in Family Video.”

Unsure whether or not he was joking — hazarding a guess that he, in fact, was not — a small laugh fell from your mouth, “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m also sorry,” he sighed, smirk dropping as he ducked his head, looking at you through his long, dark lashes, “But… I brought a peace offering.”

You watched with a quirked brow as Eddie pulled something out of his pocket, a perfectly rolled joint offered to you in the palm of his hand.

“You think you can buy me off with Reefer Rick’s shit weed?” Walking toward the boy, you all but snatched the joint from him, a wide smirk pulling at your lips, “You’re damn right, Munson.”

The boy helped load your bike into the back of his van before climbing up to join you on the roof, music from his radio playing quietly for what might’ve been the first time since he’d inherited the thing.

“You know, about this whole Billy thing-”

“Eddie, seriously. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s embarrassing enough.”

“No, I… Look, just, if you ever want me to hot wire his Camero and drive that baby off the quarry, you just gotta ask.”

Sighing, you passed him the joint, watching him carefully as he avoided your gaze, “I think I’m good, but thanks. It's nice to know I have someone in my corner.”

“Yeah. I mean, you bus enough tables together and you’re kinda bonded, right? And, about the whole Harrington thing-”

“Eddie-” you warned, taking the joint from his ringed fingers, but the boy continued,

“I just, I wanna know you’re okay, that’s all.”

Sighing, you took another toke of the joint before continuing, “I’m fine, Munson. Really. Like I said, Steve is… he’s not the same person anymore. I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s a pretty decent guy.”

“I heard he left Nancy at that party, drunk as a skunk in the bathroom. Didn’t think the priss had it in her.”

“He left her?” you huffed, annoyance at the boy who wasn’t here to defend himself.

Shrugging, Eddie leaned back on his palms, hair wild as he stared up at the night sky, “That’s what I heard. They had a big fight right before, or something. Apparently, they broke up.”

Squeezing your eyes closed, you couldn’t help but feel like a total bitch. Steve had told you he’d had an awful fight with Nancy, and yet you’d still abandoned him in the school hallway, telling him that you didn’t want anything to do with him. Despite him making sure you got home safely the night before. Despite following you out of the gymnasium when you were upset. Guilt dragged its way up your throat, cutting it raw like sandpaper. But, right now, you had other, more pressing issues to deal with, so, swallowing the ever-growing lump in your throat, you turned to the boy after taking another toke.

“I’m sorry too, you know.” You sighed, exhaling a large cloud of smoke before passing the joint back to him, “What I said… It wasn’t cool.”

“Yeah, well, looks like we’ve both got some daddy issues to work through, right?”

“I mean it, Eddie. You’re nothing like Al. I mean, Wayne’s practically raised you since…You know… And I think you’re way more like him, only…”

“Only what?”

“Only much louder,” you smirked watching as he turned his head toward you, eyes wide with false offense, as he blew a gust of smoke at you.

“You are such a bitch,” he laughed, passing over the last of the joint.

“Whatever, freak.”

A silence passed over you both, and you were certain this was the longest the boy had ever gone without making some kind of noise. Eventually though, through the high haze that engulfed you both, you finally spoke up,

“Do you ever feel like everything is just… Turning to shit?”

“I’m a second-year senior,” Eddie turned to you, straight-faced and flat-voiced, “What do you think?”

You couldn’t help the long sigh that escaped your lips as you threw the roach to the floor of the parking lot, “Do you think we’re like, predestined to experience the shit we go through in life? Like, no matter what we do, or how we try to change ourselves, our lives were set from the get-go?”

“When the hell did you start getting philosophical when you’re high?” Eddie laughed, quickly settling down when he realized you were serious, “I, uh… He is bound up with the fate of the ring.”

“What the hell are you-”

“My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end.”

“Eddie, I don’t get your nerd shit, you know that-”

“It’s not nerd shit,” he glared, “It’s Tolkien. Lord Of The Rings. And it was said by Gandalf who’s like, super fucking wise.”

“I still don’t-”

Eddie held a hand up, stopping you mid-sentence, “It’s about choices, right? All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us. Choices.”

Noticing your less-than-impressed stare, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “Fate. Destiny. Karma. All that bullshit. Who knows, right? Who knows if things are written in the stars from the moment we’re born or if it's all the just consequences of shitty actions, or if some shitty higher power up there is just being an asshole. We have like, zero ways of knowing, and the only thing we have control over is what we do about it. That’s what matters.”

Watching him for a second, you eventually turned away from his red-rimmed eyes and watched the late night sky, a blanket of stars covering it that seemed to twinkle back at you, “God, you are so high.”

Eddie merely chuckled in agreement.

Eddie drove you home, the music too loud and driving a little erratic, and you were almost shocked that he didn’t get pulled over. But, like you, he had a reputation in this town, and his driving safely and quietly probably would’ve garnered much more suspicion.

You’d thankfully remembered to grab the spare key before you’d left for the cabin considering your set was probably sitting pretty in Jonathan’s car waiting to be spotted, and you were grateful you wouldn’t have to attempt to wake your mother upon arriving home.

Your mother, however, was a woman full of surprises, not all of them good.

Closing the front door and clicking the lock into place, you heard her call your name from the small living room. You could tell from her demeanor that she’d been drinking, but not enough to end up in a state. Sometimes, her being black-out drunk was better. Safer.

“Where the hell have you been?” She asked, releasing the curtain from her grip where she had no doubt been peering out of when she heard the ruckus that was Munson’s van barrelling down the street.

“Work, Mom.”

A scoff fell from her lips eyes trying to remain on you, “Don’t try to bullshit me. It's past 1 am, and I saw that Munson boy’s van pull in outside. He’s trouble-”

“Mom, it’s late. Can the lecture wait until the morning?”

You tried to walk to your room, barely getting to the door when her spindly fingers wrapped around your elbow, long nails digging into the skin, “I can smell the marijuana on you from here. You know what he did, what his father did. I’m not having you bring trouble to this house. Do you want to have to go live in a trailer when they burn our home down, too?”

Glaring at your mother, you didn’t quite have it in you to tell her that despite being a two-bedroom house, it wasn’t much bigger than Munson’s trailer. And it definitely wasn’t a home. Not anymore.

No matter how much you begged and prayed to anyone who would listen for your mother to get well, for her to one day decide she didn’t need the drink anymore and instead become a real parent, your heckles always raised a little when she tried to pull this shit. Because this wasn’t her trying to mother you, it was her trying to take control of the one thing in life that she had left. You.

It began with Barb a few years back. She would question you on your poor decisions whilst swigging from a bottle, asking why you’d entertain someone like Barbara Holland. Who, sure, was smart and nice, but wouldn’t make it further than the head position at the library in life. She wouldn’t find a handsome, rich husband. Instead, she’d settle unhappily, and her life would pass her by boringly. Barbara Holland was not going to be remembered in the town of Hawkins. How wrong your mother was.

But you knew Barb. She might’ve looked like the kind of girl who gets trapped in Hawkins, but she had plans, and she was going places. She wanted to head out to San Francisco, at least that’s what she’d planned as a kid. But anywhere other than Hawkins seemed like a good idea. Barbara Holland was going to get the hell out of Hawkins… And then she was killed. It all seemed too unfair, but your mother was much more concerned with you making better friends.

Friends like Carol Perkins, Vickie Carmichael, or God Forbid, Tammy Thompson who, despite being pretty and popular and relatively kind to mostly everyone, wouldn’t stop singing her own rendition of “Total Eclipse Of The Heart”, and if you had to hear that damn song one more time…

“None of that was Eddie’s fault,” you pulled your arm from her grip.

The anger in her eyes was evident, the line between her brows sharp as she stared at you, “And what if he’d been pulled over? I could hear that god-awful music from halfway down the street. You think people around here wouldn’t call the cops on him? If you were caught with him-”

“Maybe he shouldn’t have driven home like that, sure. But it’s nothing worse than what you’ve done. Do you really think people don’t already talk about us? About how I’m going to end up like you, how you’re already halfway to your mother-”

The back of her hand stopped you, the whooshing sound blocking out whatever pained response she had. Pushing your way into the room, ignoring her calls, you slammed the door in her face and pushed against it, settling on the floor in front.

Despite the tears that welled in your eyes, you were right.

Your mother's backhand hurt a lot less.

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 02

02 - No Judging*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

warnings; cigs, college? lol, fratboy folio, short time skips, one bed? technically?, mutual masturbation, panic attacks, 18+ MDNI

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3

word count: 3.5k

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

future chapters w smut will have a * by the title

NICHOLAS

It’s the morning after Noah’s night terror and we’re scrambling to get to our first day on time. I swing through the kitchen grabbing a banana for breakfast. Noah digs through the pantry and eventually stumbles across a granola bar that I’m not quite sure is still good.

“Hurry, we can’t be late for orientation.” I warn while snatching my car keys from the counter.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Noah calls, this time from deep inside the freezer trying to find another snack. He jogs back with two uncrustables, one for him and one for me. Grape for him, strawberry for me.

We hurriedly pile into my beat-up Corolla and hit the road towards our college campus. Thankfully we live close enough to campus that we don’t have to pay for dorms.

Silence fills the car, it’s the first time during this hectic morning that we’ve been able to talk.

Noah pulls a box of Newport Menthols, flipping the top open and sliding a cigarette out of the box. He keeps the smoke steady between pursed lips while he lights the end, it sizzles a cherry red, followed by thick smoke immediately filling my car.

“Hey! What did I tell you about smoking in my car.” I grumble leaning across his lap to swivel the window by the crank handle while keeping a hand on the wheel.

“Gosh Nick, if you wanted to get in my pants so bad you could’ve just asked.” He jokes with a goofy smirk.

I roll my eyes. It’s far too early for nonsense. “Shut up.”

He grows quiet and take a long drag of the cigarette and blows smoke out the window opening. “Sorry. I know I kept you up.” He says quietly and plays with his seatbelt, keeping his eyes low.

I tug at my lip pondering what exactly I should respond with. Anxiously I tap my fingers along the steering wheel. “Was that the first time that’s happened?” I ask, glancing over at him.

He exhales out the opening again and taps the cigarette on the window to knock off the ash. “No.” he says meekly after a bit of silence. In his lap, he’s picking at his cuticles and intently watches the assault on his hangnails. “Sometimes they’re worse.”

“Worse?” I raise a brow over at him, “How could they possibly be worse?”

He sighs. “I don’t know. Sometimes I sleepwalk during the terrors, sometimes I don’t.”

“You’ve slept over my house like a million times and that’s never happened before?”

“I mean I can’t control it. It just happens.” He shrugs and takes one last puff before disposing the cig then rolling up the window.  “They happen a lot when I’m stressed.” His fingers return to their plight on his cuticles. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I know but… I should’ve told you before you let me move in.” He sighs deeply and slumps in his seat. “I’m sure you – or your family – don’t want me just screaming in the middle of the night.”

I turn on the street of our campus. “Noah, I don’t know why you think our love is conditional.” Though I do know why he thinks that. “My mom loves you, you know that.” I pull into the first parking spot I see, under a large tree for the shade. “Plus, you know she’s been trying to get you to move in with us since forever.”

A tiny tight-lipped smile forms on his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

I glance at the clock and a jolt of panic shoots through me, “Shit, we’re gonna be late.”  

“Ah finally!” Nick exclaims once we make it into the hall that orientation is being held in. The instructional flyer folded in his hand is soon smacked against Noah’s head. “What took you guys so long?”

“Doesn’t matter, we’re here now and nothing is even happening yet.” I snap, stealing the flyer and smacking him back in the same way.

“Jeez okay.” He dramatically rubs his forehead over his backwards hat.

“Shouldn’t you be with your ‘frat bros’ over there Folio?” Noah asks, pointing to the large group of boys in polo shirts and baseball caps behind him.

Nick rolls his eyes, “Can you leave me alone?”

“What’s your name again? Kappa Apple Pie?” Noah teases with a chuckle.

“Oh my god shut up. No, it’s not that.” He says defensively.

“You don’t remember what it is do you?” I smack his shoulder laughing.

“…Listen, I’m NEW.” A slight red tint coats his cheeks from embarrassment.

I lean on Noah’s shoulder and we’re both nearly in tears from how hard we’re laughing.

He crosses his arms and turns away from us, “You guys are so annoying.”

“I can’t believe we had to sit through that bullshit for a whole hour at 7 am.” Noah kicks the dirt in front of him as we walk to our first class, English.

“Yeah, it was lame.” I say mindlessly, playing with the strap on my backpack.

Noah looks over at me concerned, “You okay?”

“Huh?” I snap out of my daze and shake my head. “Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

Truth was, I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. There was a tiny guilty part of me that almost wanted for it to happen again. Why would I want my friend to have a horrible dream like that again?

Maybe I just liked the extra warmth he brought to my usually cold and empty bed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back on the floor tonight and you won’t have to worry about my tossing and turning.”

“Oh no, no.” I’m quick to respond, “No, it’s okay. I think it would be better for you to just sleep in my bed. Ya know, in case it happens again?”

He furrows his brows at me and for a moment I get an odd pit in my stomach that feels like I’ve been caught in a lie. “Are you sure? Because you’ve never been a fan of sharing beds before?” He seems to remember something causing him to bust out laughing. “Remember that time I kicked you out of your bed in my sleep when we were like in 6th grade?” He nudges my shoulder, still laughing hard enough to shake his entire body. “You’ve made me sleep on the cold, hard floor ever since then.” He said with a playful pout.

“I didn’t ‘make you sleep on the floor’,” I roll my eyes. “You broke every single blow-up bed we got you.”

He giggles, “I know I’m just playin’.”

I sigh, “But yeah. If you wanna keep sleeping in my bed that’s fine.”

“Cool.” He says with a smile. “It sure beats the cold, hard floor.” He teases dramatically.

“Shut up.”

“Guys!” Calls a voice from behind us and both of us turn to look at the source.

Nick catches up to us with a taller, bearded man following close behind him. Both of them are wearing similar hats with the same frat sigils on them.

“Hey Folio.” Noah and I say almost in unison.

“Hi guys, so, this is Bryan. He’s the sophomore that’s supposed to be mentoring me.” He introduces the mystery man with showcase-y hands that would put Vanna White to shame.

He waves a small awkward wave, “’Sup.”

“Our frat is throwing a party at the end of the month to kick off the new school year. Bryan said I’m allowed to invite whoever I want. Right Bryan?” Folio grins wide, evidently excited.

Bryan looks exhausted, like a mother who’s been with their toddler all day. “Yes. I did say that.”

“Well, that’s really nice Nick but you know we’re not really party peo–”

Noah cuts me off, “I’m down.” He says quicker than I can even stop him.

I snap my head at him confused. “You are?” I knit my brows at him and hope my eyes communicate my confusion.

“Yes.” He says through the teeth of his forced smile. “Yes Nicholas, and you’re coming with me.”

“What? I never agreed–”

“Great!” Exclaims Folio, looking extremely eager next to Bryan who looks like he’s in desperate need for a quad shot of espresso.

We were barely invited to parties to begin with but whenever we were, we’d always just stay home and play games. Which I was fine with. I’ve always fine with just staying in with either just one or both of them. Since Nick was on the football team, he sometimes went to their parties, but Noah and I never did. We would literally sit and talk about how parties are stupid and overrated and overwhelming.

Nick wanting to go to his frat party made sense, but Noah? I wasn’t expecting that at all.

Bryan and Folio went separate ways for their classes while Noah and I kept walking to English.

It was quiet between us for a bit, probably since Noah knew how I felt about his choice. I finally broke the silence. “Why the fuck would you say yes to a frat party?”

Noah sighs, “C’mon Nicholas. We’re in college now! We should be doing college things!”

“What happened to saying parties are overrated and scary?”

Noah stops walking and I quickly follow suit. “I don’t want to be lame anymore Nick.” He says like it’s the most serious thing in the world. “I want to make friends and do college things and get drunk and meet girls!”

For some reason his words sting in a way I’ve never felt before and it bubbles an unexplainable anger in my chest. “Fine. But I’m not going.” I begin walking towards class again, this time with heavier, faster footsteps.

“What!” Noah calls after me, though I’m confused as to why he’s so shocked. “Nicholas! Wait!”

I let out an exacerbated sigh and stop, letting my head fall back so I just stare at the fucking sky rather than him. “What.”

“Please, c’mon” He whines and takes my wrist into his hands. There’s an odd, tiny buzz that tingles where his fingers meet my skin but I don’t think much of it. It must just be static electricity or something. “I can’t go to my first college party ever without my best friend.” He tugs playfully at my arm. “Please?”

When my eyes finally land on him, he’s looking at me with a pout and puppy dog eyes that I never seem to be able to say no to. “Fine. One party. That’s it.”

A huge grin spreads across his face and thanks me by pulling me into a big hug. “Thank you!” He pulls away still holding my wrist. “It’ll be fun! You won’t regret it. I promise!”

Something tells me I will most definitely regret it.

Noah had slept in my bed for the past couple weeks and it was the closest we’ve ever really been physically. It got old really quick with the way he kicked in his sleep and how his boney knees would somehow always end up in my back. But as the fall weather began to roll in and the colder the nights got, I grew to be grateful for his warmth.

I didn’t think much of it until one morning I felt something poking at my back. I let out a sleepy groan and rub the sleep from my eye, readjusting slightly until I realize what is jabbing at me. As I turn onto my back, Noah wakes up slowly, but his eyes shoot open when he feels his erection poking at my hip. He immediately moves his hips back and brings more duvet to cover himself further. “Shit, I’m sorry.” His cheeks flush.

I eye him and am soon confused as how my body is reacting. I’m hard at the thought of him being hard next to me. Or maybe I was already hard when I woke up, that definitely must be it.

I clear my throat, “It’s fine. It happens.”

He nods without another word and looks everywhere else but me.

“What do you… normally do when you wake up like that?” I don’t know why I asked, I know the answer.

“I… you know.” He says quietly.

“Do you um… want to do that right now?” I want to hit myself.

Why would I fucking say that?

“Well…yeah. But I can’t exactly do…that.”

“Why not?” I blurt out and feel immediate regret. I don’t know what’s driving my words but it’s definitely not my brain.

He looks caught off guard, which makes fucking sense because why the fuck would I say that. “I mean… you’re here.”

I press my lips together before speaking again. “I won’t judge. I…want to, too. So, if we both do it then… we can’t really judge each other, right?”

His eyes scan my face, maybe to see if I’m joking. “Right. Uh, sure. No judging.” He nods, “So I guess, um, I guess I’ll just start then.”

He hesitantly spits into his palm then slithers his thin lanky arm down beneath the covers and into his PJs, he hisses, probably from his cold of his hand.

My heart is beating so hard in my chest I think it might rip through my ribcage. When his hand starts moving it occurs to me that I agreed to this too and nerves fill my body. What was I thinking, why would I do this. We’re both virgins except for an awkward blowjob I got junior year, so I’ve never done anything like this with anyone nonetheless a boy, my best friend … who’s a boy. But my body doesn’t seem to care since I think I’m the hardest I’ve ever been. He’s still facing me, but I feel weird about it, so I lay flat on my back facing the ceiling, which he promptly copies. I spit into my own hand, trail my arm down and dip into my own loose PJ shorts.

“Fuck.” Noah breathes out inadvertently and immediately blushes bright strawberry pink. Something about it only makes my cock pulse more in my hand, I want to hear him say it again.

It’s pure bliss once my hand rolls around my member, then up and down trying to match Noah’s speed. He’s ahead of me and by the sounds of it coming close to his end. I try my best to keep my eyes on the ceiling while I palm myself, but my eyes keep glancing over at him. I feel him doing the same. Even though I can’t actually see anything, just seeing the duvet rise and fall along with his noises are enough to make precum leak from my tip. The faster he goes, the less control he has over his grunts and moans. They’re high pitched and whiney, not really what I’d expect them to be since his voice his so low.

There’s a short fleeting thought about what it would be like to have his hand do this to me instead. But the idea of it pushes me even closer to my climax. Though I’m almost scared to cum next to him, I’m not sure why, embarrassment maybe? That doesn’t last very long since I feel a familiar knot form in the pit of my stomach. My cock is throbbing and feels so fucking good in my tight grip. I bite down on my lip trying to last longer than Noah.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He says urgently. His movements are desperate and sloppy and he’s practically bucking his hips up into his hand. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He whines before going completely rigid and letting out a string of whimpers.

His noises send me over the edge, “Fuck.” I groan lowly, pumping myself even faster, chasing my own high. It feels like my body is vibrating from the buzzing that spreads across my skin. It hits me harder that any orgasm I’ve ever had, euphoric pleasure washes over my entire body as I spill into my shorts.

Our chests are rising and falling quickly, and the heavy breathing is the only noise filling the room. I’m on a fluffy cloud of bliss until I’m ripped down with the reality of what we just did. My eyes grow wide, my heart starts pounding in my ears, I don’t dare look over at him.

“I, um,” My brain is too dizzy to even form a coherent thought. “I’m gonna…clean up and uh, shower in the other bathroom.”

I jump out of bed, flinging the duvet behind me, probably hitting Noah in the face but I don’t care. The walls feel like they are being vacuum sealed around me and getting out of the room is the only thing that will save me.

I need to get out

“Um.” His voice wavers, giving away just how equally jarred he is of what we just did. “Yeah, yeah. Sounds good. I’ll go shower in our bathroom.”

I’m already halfway out the door with a fresh outfit and a towel in my arms by the time he finishes his statement. “Okay. Cool.” I say quickly and shut the door behind me. I press my back against the door, letting my head fall back.

What the fuck was that?

It’s less suffocating in the hallway but I still can’t take a full inhale of air. It’s as though I’m being strangled by a ghost.

I quickly recognize that it’s a panic attack that’s creeping up my spine.

Normally when I have panic attacks, I go to Noah, or I use my inhaler. But both are in my room right now.

How am I supposed to go back into my room and ask Noah for help after what we just did… that.

“It’s okay.” I reassure myself breathlessly, unable to move my body. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to focus on my breathing enough just to walk. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Abruptly, the door behind me is pulled open and I stumble back so hard I think I might land on the ground.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t know you were still there.” He begins with a slight awkwardness in his tone. His eyebrows furrow at me when he notices my jagged breathing. “You okay?”

The moment my shaky eyes meet his, he knows.

I don’t know how he knows, but he does.

He always knows.

His demeanor is immediately urgent.

“Okay, just… here.” He holds my biceps in his hands, gently tugging down on them. “Sit down. It’s always better when you sit. I’ll be right back.”

I nod while air is still struggling to make it into my lungs. I follow his suggestion and slide down the frame of my door onto the beige carpeted floor and lean my head back against the frame. The room is spinning around me and my chest aches so much like there’s a cinderblock resting on it. Sweat builds up above my brows and everything feels both freezing and scorching at the same time.

Noah returns with my inhaler and a folded up wet towel. He places the cold towel on my forehead because he knows cold will help shock my system and help ground me. I feel almost guilty from how well he knows how to handle this song and dance with me.

“Here, c’mon.” He holds the inhaler just in front of my mouth and I hesitantly wrap my lips around the plastic.

“Okay, breathe in.” He instructs gently. I slowly inhale and he presses the metal down for me, releasing the medicine. “Good.”

He sits back on his legs, and I let my head fall back against the wall. My eyes close while I let my lungs regulate themselves and try to focus on the cold on my forehead.

I’m suddenly incredibly embarrassed at all of this. I just jacked off with my best friend, then had a panic attack because I jacked off with my best friend, and now he’s helping me calm down from said panic attack.

When I finally crack my eyes open, he’s watching me with concern on his face. His eyes are placid, and the edges of his lips are turned down. “Are you okay?” He asks softly. “Do you feel better?”

I clear my throat and pull my body to be more upright against the frame. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you.” I look up at him briefly then down again. I can’t bear to look at him right now.

It occurs to me that he might think this was because of what we did.

Which, it was.

But he doesn’t need to know that.

“I just have this history test today.” I blurt out. “I’m just really stressed about it.”

He just blinks at me.

“Okay.” He replies simply.

He plays with his hands anxiously for a short bit. “It doesn’t matter.” He says quickly.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter why you’re having a panic attack.” His fingers subconsciously pick at his cuticles. “Or where. Or when. Or how.” His eyes fall to his hands. “I’m here anyways. Always.”

I stay silent because I don’t quite know what to say but he looks back to me sternly.

My stomach flips inside out when he holds out a pinky to me. “Okay?”

I meet his dark brown eyes and they’re full of something I can’t place. But it fills my chest with an overwhelming feeling of safety and stillness. It’s the same sort of safe and sound you only feel when you land in your own bed after a long day. Which confuses me. I’ve never felt that with a person. I’m not sure I even knew that was possible.

I timidly bring my pinky up and hook onto his.

A small smile forms on his lips, “Always.”

I squeeze his pinky, “Always.”

Next Chapter -> 03 - when the party's over

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @cryingabtab @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @kingdomof-omens [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

a/n; Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks, they really validate and fuel me lol. Even though I'm not the best at replying 😅 but i am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

I have somethin very saucy cookin' for y'all coming soon 😏 as well as a Virality update!

I hope you guys like this one, please lmk if you do💘

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 5

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 3023

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 5

You dreamt that night, of a beautiful forest with a river that ran through it, homes built in the treetops. The place felt magical and the others there were friendly and welcoming. This wasn’t the first time you’d dreamt of this. It always felt like your home away from home.

Morning came quickly, like it always felt like it did, your clock reading seventeen after five. You slipped on your warm, fuzzy slippers before starting your regular morning routine. Thoughts of things your mother had talked to you about after your car accident played through your mind, which often happened after that dream.

“You’re a fairy,” your mother told you, almost overjoyed when you showed her the weird power that had begun only a week after waking up from your coma. “Mom, there’s no such thing,” you replied, sighing after you’d straightened up her sink full of dishes just by thinking about it. “It’s in your bloodline. It activated when you were in that accident. You have more power than you realize, you just have to learn, and be responsible,” she explained, holding your hand, feeling so proud of you. You rolled your eyes. There had to be another explanation, you thought to yourself, fairy’s don’t exist. After going home that day, you researched fairies and it didn’t seem to fit. It had to be something else but no matter how much research you did, you never found an answer that explained what you were now. The word bloodline kept replaying in your mind but that hadn’t helped either.

As you were pulling out of your driveway, you noticed a decent pile of ash just on the inside of your property line and took a deep breath, knowing you’d been followed. They’d never gotten that bold before and you knew it was going to feel like a long day, also thankful the warding you’d used had done its job. At least now, you felt safer being at home.

Work started like it did every day for you, working hardline with Sarah. Today though, you were distracted with your thoughts, only half hearing what she was talking to you about and absentmindedly answering her.

“So, breaking everything on the home hummer is a good idea?” she asked you, raising an eyebrow.

You finally turned to her, having heard her this time, “No…. What?” you asked, slightly confused.

“What’s up with you today? You’re not your usual jovial self,” she replied.

You sighed a little, placing another pan on the kitchen hummer, “Sorry. The last couple of days have been a little weird, that’s all,” you replied.

“Weird how?” she asked, turning to face you, leaning her arm over the box she was working on.

“Well, you know I’m different,” you began, and she nodded, “There were a couple of people watching me yesterday and it was, well, weird.”

“Did they say anything or just watch you?” she asked, a little concerned.

“Just watched me. Might have to be more careful at work but we don’t have to cut back on the antics. Those help make me laugh,” you replied, finally giving her a genuine smile.

Sarah perked up at that, “Good, because today, we’re gonna rearrange the figures so that they look somewhat questionable,” she told you, insinuating it probably wasn’t appropriate for work.

You laughed a bit, “So, we’ll need at least two home hummers, so we can both work on it, at the same time,” you winked.

“There’s my girl,” she replied in that bubbly way only she did when she was excited.

You knew there was a mild possibility that the two of you could get in trouble for it but at the same time, your boss, Denise, was pretty cool about the antics you both had been doing at work. The two of you laughed and joked around while unboxing everything, contemplating how you’d set up the figures when the truck was done.

The two of you made two home hummers, one with the figures and candles, the other with everything else. You both about lost it laughing when Sarah pulled a rooster figurine out of a box at the same time you pulled a cat figuring out of another. Both of you thought those were perfect for your plan.

The truck took another hour, as there were more boxes than the day before. The laughter didn’t stop the more figures that got unboxed. You took care of the clean up, taking the boxes of empty boxes to the compactor, sweeping, and rolling up the conveyor belt the boxes were slid across while Sarah moved the hummers so they were neatly arranged. 

You each grabbed one of the home hummers, giggling as you headed out of the stockroom, quickly writing down your times. There were already several figures on the shelves which would only make the prank more fun. Sarah took pictures that she’d turn into a video, not wanting either of their faces in the video, a precaution she would take sometimes. You placed the rooster figurine on the shelf, its neck was bent slightly downward like it was going to peck food off the ground. Then you placed the cat figurine down under its beak, as the cat was laying on its back, looking quite pleased with itself. Sarah almost died of laughter, then took a picture.

There were also the cupped hands holding another figure she carefully placed in the center of it, a set of two balls. You moved the fake pots of plants around and put the figurine of a face so that it peeked out from them, making it look fairly creepy. She snapped another picture. This continued with all the figurines that had not only been on the shelves but also on the hummer. Sarah took a video of the aisle as both of you stayed quiet. Then you arranged the candles in different, inappropriate shapes. Sara laughed, then took pictures and a short video before the two of you got back to your regular work.

“I swear, if we get in trouble for that-” you began, but she cut you off.

“Come on. We’ll only get in trouble if a customer complains. They’re gonna find it just as funny as we do,” she assured you, making you chuckle along with her.

Neither you nor Sarah had noticed the two men that had been keeping an eye on you and once you left the figurine aisle, they both had to go look at what the two of you had been laughing so hard about. 

You were still chuckling to yourself as you grabbed one of the toy hummers and headed in that direction from the back room, passing the aisle the figurines were down. You glanced down it, chuckling again until you saw him, the FBI agent from the other day. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe but you kept walking. He wasn’t in his uniform and now he was with someone, who was slightly taller, with longer hair. You felt your heart beat a little harder in your chest as you made your way to the pet aisle, where you always started. 

With the one being as tall as he was, he was easy to see over the shelves and this time, you kept an eye on him. Since it was clear the demons had followed you the night before and the FBI agent was the only consistent person, he was who you’d watch. You discretely used your powers again, cleaning up the pet aisle a little to make room for the dog toys. More had come in on this truck than usual. 

“Maria to the stockroom,” you heard over the speakers and sighed, setting down the dog toys you had in your hand.

You glanced at the two men again before heading to the stockroom, making a mental note of what they were wearing, then finding Tiffany, “Yeah Tiff, what’s up?” you asked, smiling a little.

“Hey, are there any more empty hummers out there?” she asked you.

“I was working on a toy one. I can get that one and the other one done quick for you,” you reply.

“That would be amazing. Bring 'em right in the back though, please,” she asked you before going back to hard-tagging a box of apparel.

“No prob,” you reply, smiling a little before going back to your task.

You scanned the store discretely, quickly finding the tall one again over in the men’s clothing section with the agent you recognized. Somehow you’d have to figure out how to walk near them, although hadn’t remembered the one smelling of sulfur the day he’d questioned you. 

It only took you about ten minutes to run the two toy hummers and got them both back to Tiffany. She’d needed them for the lady who always did shoes, and you felt horrible for constantly forgetting her name. So, you just smiled, told her you’d bring her more if she needed them, and went back out to grab a Q hummer. Those items all went up near the registers and Sarah didn’t enjoy running them. It would give you an excuse to possibly get closer to the two FBI agents, which you were questioning if that was what they even were.

You easily located the tall one again only the other one wasn’t with him now. Scanning the store you didn’t see him anywhere but you couldn’t see everywhere either. You sighed in frustration as you grabbed another box of candy, heading down the row for the customers to check out, which was empty. Since just after Christmas, the shelves had gotten rather bare, so there were plenty of places that needed filling, giving you the freedom to set it up how you wanted.

“Back on Q, huh?” Sarah asked, tilting her head, just a bit.

“You know I like it up here,” you replied, smiling.

“Too many people for me,” she sighed with a small laugh.

“Just like the bluebins have too many tags for me,” you bantered back, smirking a little, “Oh yeah, check these out,” you told her, slightly excited as you grabbed a Hello Kitty Vantine stuffed animal off your hummer, handing it to her.

“OH MY GOD!” she exclaimed, grabbing it and snuggling it, “Why do you always do this to me?” she teased playfully, still smiling from ear to ear.

“Shouldn’t have told me you like Hello Kitty,” you laughed.

It was something she’d told you not too long after you had started working there. So, every time something cute that was Hello Kitty came through the truck, you had to show her. Half of the items she’d purchased, unable to resist them, just like now with the current stuffed animal in her hands. 

Neither of you did your antics at the front of the store. It was too risky, no matter how much fun it could have been. You also didn’t use your powers up there. Too many cameras and then there were the cashiers who could easily see you. So, you straightened things up by hand as quickly as you could while stocking the shelves. Sarah went back to the women’s bluebin while you glanced around the store again, only finding the tall one in the men’s clothing section, now near the jeans.

You did notice at least two demons in the store while working the next Q hummer, passing them near the dresses. Two men but not the FBI agents. You kept walking as you looked over at them, and accidentally bumped into someone. Luckily you hadn’t hit them with the hummer you were pulling next to you.

“I’m so sor-” you began, then almost froze as you looked up at him, the FBI agent who had questioned you that day.

He smiled down at you, “It’s okay,” he replied.

The two demons who had been watching you left the store and you managed to notice, but barely. You could have gone about this a couple of different ways. He didn’t have that sulfur odor, and you quickly ruled out a demon, “Why are you following me?” you asked, sounding more confident than you felt.

He looked a little surprised at your bluntness but just smiled, partially smirked, “It’s called a stakeout, Sweetheart,” he replied, then leaned a little closer, “Don’t spoil it,” he whispered to you.

Why did he have to be as hot as he was, you thought to yourself, and so damned charming, “Might want to tell your partner his height isn’t helping him hide any,” you retorted sarcastically.

The way he chuckled was more attractive than you wanted to admit to yourself, “I’ll make sure to let him know. Just go about your day like you would if we weren’t here,” he told you, still smirking, and with way too much charm.

You rolled your eyes and walked away, pulling your hummer behind you, doing your best not to think about the FBI agent while you went about stocking the front area. Yeah right. You found yourself glancing at where he was in the store, taking note of his features. The chiseled jawline, the way his jeans hugged his ass, but not too tightly, comfortably. Then there were those emerald green eyes of his when he’d looked at you. 

“You who? Earth to Maria,” Sarah said to you, waving her hand in front of your face, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you apologized, looking over at her.

“What were you so deep in thought about?” she asked you with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

A light blush danced down and into your cheeks, and a giddy smile played across your lips, “Nothing,” you said, somewhat embarrassed.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, putting her hand on her hip, “It wouldn’t have anything to do with that FBI agent that’s over in the clothes section, would it?” she asked, giving you a knowing look.

“What? I already agreed he was hot,” you reply, glancing at him for a moment before looking back over at her.

“Why not ask him out for drinks or something?” she asked you.

You rolled your eyes, “I told you, he’s probably married.”

“Well, he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring when I walked past him earlier,” she said in quite a teasing tone.

You felt the blush deepen on your cheeks, “Why do you keep trying to set me up with guys?” you asked, having to take a deep breath.

“Cause you haven’t been on a date in what, a year?” she retorted, playfully but seriously.

“That’s cause men are nothing but trouble and he’s an FBI agent. That only makes it worse,” you replied, that logic making it easier to calm down your nerves, “Besides, it’s not like it would go anywhere.”

She rolled her eyes, concocting her own plan, “You’re such a chicken-shit,” she teased you before heading off to take care of the men’s bluebin.

You thought nothing of it and went back to work, sighing. She was right. It had been a long time since you’d even talked to a guy and lately, you hadn’t wanted to get involved with anyone. How could you? It wasn’t like you could tell anyone that you had powers and your mother thought you were a fairy. That thought made you chuckle silently as you continued working.

Ten minutes later, there was a soft tap on your shoulder. When you turned around though, you felt your chest tighten a little and your heart beat a little quicker, “Something I can help you find?” you asked him, managing to act professional as the green-eyed FBI agent looked down at you, with a charming smirk.

“I was wondering if you were free tonight, for drinks?” he asked you, somewhat flirtatiously.

Sarah, you thought to yourself, you sneaky little shit. You smirked a little, “Let me guess, my co-worker put you up to this, didn’t she?” you asked, putting your hand on your hip.

He chuckled a little, “Is that a yes or a no?” he asked, the flirt still in his words.

You smirked and shook your head, just a bit, “Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed a little, “Alright, she might have mentioned something but she didn’t put me up to anything. I’m asking because I’d like to have a drink with you if you’re free,” he replied, seeming to be honest.

You eyed him for a moment, debating if it was even a good idea, “There’s a bar a couple miles from where I live. It’s called the Circle S Saloon. I’ll meet you there around seven.” you told him, figuring a couple of drinks would be fine.

He smiled, “I know where that’s at. See you at seven then,” he replied, still flirtatiously.

“See you at seven,” you repeated, barely able to keep a schoolgirl smile off your lips.

You didn’t even know the guy's first name and realized this after he had walked away and back to his partner. It looked as if they were talking and you noticed how they seemed closer than just work companions but not like intimate partners, almost like family. When you went back to the stockroom, you quickly found Sarah.

“I blame you,” you told her, trying to look serious.

She spun on her heels, phone up and recording, “Blame me for what?” she asked innocently.

“For telling that guy to ask me out. I know you had to of said something to him,” you said, again trying to sound and look serious as you put your hand on your hip, cocking your head a bit.

“I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about,” she replied, again acting innocent.

You both burst out in laughter and she saved the video on her phone, “Just go have a good time, it’s been a while,” she finally told you after you both stopped laughing.

“Fine. I’ll try to have some fun and relax. A couple of drinks with an FBI agent,” you said, still wondering if this was a good idea or not.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 6

Link to the series Master List

[storiesofsvu]

Happy thursday.

fair warning, if you care about svu spoilers at all, make sure you're staying FAR away from social media until you've watched it.

WOOF

spoilers under the cut for all three l&o's and not really for CME, but just some minor thoughts

Thursday Thursday… here we go!

As usual Ayanna looking like a fucking bomb snack in her suits

Ian doyle get your crusty ass face off my fucking tv. Like, im literally writing Emily fic as I’m watching organized crime, this is NOT THE TIME.

Okay, not surprised the snitch is already dead.

Ah… and we’re back to the sleazy casino manchild. Amazing.

The more we find out about jet, the more I love her.

Wait… bobby’s MARRIED??!? Did we know this already and I just forgot or is this new information? Or is the new info just that he’s married to a mob boss’s niece?

Okay also…the mob boss woman was in the once upon a time in el barrio svu ep.. that’s where I know her from…

LOL to Jamie little white kid freaking over the food and bigger LOL to them having a giant pile of containers to take with him…

Murphy’s accent keeps slipping in and out which is weird cause the actor is irish… then again, if he’s been living in the us for that long it probably does that anyways

The girl playing Rika has defs been on svu before… but im not complaining… she’s hot.

Yeah she was in s19.

Bobby’s such a lil cutie.

“I deserve a lot more than that. But you’re going to spend it on me. Dinner, maybe some jewels…”  “buy you a house if it means I get to come home to you.”  ….things to file away for future fic inspo….

Jet… omg.. I love you.

Okay… but like… jet was being flirted with by a KNOWN gangster ,one who clearly wanted more time with her, whether that is pure intention or not (cause out on the street he did seem a bit genuine, esp once murphy showed up) and like, yes I get that she’s a cop, but WHY would she be left to walk to her car alone late at night. Like, im not talking police escort, but at the very least a “security” from the club or a bartender or anything like… there are some bars that don’t let their service staff walk to their cars alone….

Okay, im actually invested in this arc…  weird.

Now we’re onto mothership. Will I pay attention or will I focus on the prentiss smut I’m working on? Only time will tell!!

Shouldn’t this be a special victims case?

Cops walking up to a suspect muttering “don’t run, don’t run, don’t run.” Will always be hilarious to me.

“these Zumba classes are not working…”  “…I did all the running.” LOOOL that is some quality partner banter. Love it.

I literally just said “where tf are this kid’s parents.”  Like… he’s under 18..

God this is one of those cases that just has curveball after curveball…

Wait… barba upped a case to reckless endangerment and rita’s response was “really, now we’re talking felonies?!” but now RE means no jail time?? Brb while I go google some shit. Okay… It looks like its first degree vs second degree. I’ll accept that.

Samantha maroun and rita Calhoun go on shopping sprees together and I will not accept notes on this. They’re both always so colourful.

I feel like this case would be a super hard one to take to trial… like that jury is gonna be deadlocked no matter what, it would so likely be a mistrial.

Damn these lawyers are fucking smart and know their shit. Good job.

Holy FUCK another curveball. Damn. This is old school writing. Bless.

 Okay, svu time. I don’t know if I’m prepared. (and not because I ship it…)

Still cant get over that Oscar papa is a fucking TWINK

Awwwee sonny… sweet sonshine. I fucking miss you. Wish you were around more often.

Wow… timing.. Seriously? We couldn’t even get sonny in the room?? He had to zoom in? wtf?!

This aint the first time a perp has threatened her son.. like.. she aint fucking around anymore

Also… the fact that they were *actually* going for noah is terrifying and makes it like, so much more worse?!

Fuck.. Velasco… ive missed you…

A phoebe mention!! Can we see her again pls?

Still haven’t decided if I like Bruno or not. Wouldn’t be mad if he joined the team cause lort knows they need a bigger squad. Also really liked that other Bronx detective

Okay.. note on the commercial break… they’re making ANOTHER magic mike??? Is channing tatum that desperate for money??

LOL the “let me call you amanda from now on” line followed by “alright well tell carisi I’ll be home late.” Omg. Fin. Best one liners.

“all you white boys look alike to me” LOL.

Bruno my man, why TF you carrying around that much cash?!?

Yes… THIS ONE! The black girl detective from the bronx. I want more of her.

HANDS! Joe.. jfc calm yourself

Churlish! Okay… imma try to remember that name

….im assuming we’re not getting any muncy in this ep

YEESSS VELASCO playing dirty fake UC (well… kinda…) this should not be as hot as it is…

OH MY GOD ARE WE ACTUALLY IN COURT?! IT’S A FUCKING MIRACLE.

Man… testifying/prosecuting/being on the jury in a gang related case like this, like, my anxiety would be through the fucking roof for the rest of my life…

Im over here still trying to figure out just how dirty joe was playing? Like, if he was gonna go that bad why do it in front of a cop he doesn’t know that well. Like yeah maybe he has a hook with mcgrath but im just wary of shit rn. He’s not that ballsy….

Okay, this isn’t the first time that liv has made threats like this, and it wont be the last.

Yeah.. still so confused about joe… like he *knows* what he’s doing…. Right? Like at first I lowkey thought it was the two of them playing good cop bad cop like liv & Elliot used to back in the day.

“that an invitation?” DUARTE WOW WAY TO BE FUCKING BOLD (would probs prefer that to eo tbh)

Theyre flirting your honour

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!!! ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?!!? I legit wish you could see my face rn. WOW SVU WAY TO FUCKING GO DARK THERE IS ONLY 10 MINS LEFT OF THIS SHIT AND THAT INCLUDES COMMERCIALS WOOOWW

 Are you fucking with me???

Wow… okay.. noted… pray for anyone named Mike on SVU

(but is he actually dead..  or is this gonna be a witsec thing?)

I WAS JUST STARTING TO LIKE HIM DAMMIT

Oscar’s got mommy issues… that checks

Okay well they prosecuted him for murder so… duarte’s dead… wow..

Her new apartment is gorgeous

Did we really have to go all dutch tilt for this scene?

LOOOOOLLL omg that promo had y’all fucking freaking your shit out and it turned into nothing. God bless. So proud of liv for saying no, that she can’t. like, not only did unstabler bring it up at a time that she was probably hella vulnerable, feeling the relief that she/noah were finally safe, like that’s gonna have her releasing emotions she didn’t even realize she was feeling. And then on top of that, someone, a friend.. a flirtatious friend maybe? Coworker? The SECOND person she’d worked closely with named mike be murdered a moment after she left their side, holds herself responsible. Like that is NOT the time to try to fucking kiss her my man. That is the time to wrap her in a hug, tell her that things will eventually be okay and let her cry into your shoulder, a light kiss on the head at most. Jfc. Read the room.

circling back to duarte.. they SERIOUSLY couldn't bother paying molly for like a half day of work to be in the waiting room? he was her captain.. she would be there...

ANYWAYS.

Uh,… CME summary?

Episode was meh. Like literally meh. I have basically zero good or bad points about it. AJ’s kids are so grown up now. JJ looks hot af as usual, and gay af, like the reboot really said “okay, jj is also gonna be secretly gay, don’t tell will”. Sick of the will they wont they with will being sick/dying, lets not tease this shit anymore. Also sick of the wardrobe dept giving Prentiss the exact same shirt in like 4 diff colours to wear and that’s it. Also please let Emily say fuck again. Also JJ. And Tara. Let the women swear pls. it’s not fair Rossi got the first like.. three… let’s hope next week is better!

[brianyololau]

9/23

Today is my last day in vietnam. I’m on the plane back to Saigon so that we can take the international flight back to the Cali. This has been one HELL OF A TRIP. I’m not gonna lie, there were times in Huế that were randomly sad and fun. For a good portion of it though, I was pretty bored because there was nothing left for me here. I didn’t have any blood cousins to reconnect with. The older “aunties” moved on with their own family since I last visited 18 years ago, and I don’t even recognize the neighborhood I visited when I was 6. It’s all changed.

It’s sad too. Seeing how my mom and uncles used to live, I felt nothing but sadness and compassion. Yesterday, we visited the neighborhood where my family lived. My mom showed me where Cẩu Vủ used to bike to Cô Châu’s house every day for her grandpa to hem materials before bringing it to Cậu Long to sew together. It was a sight of poverty that was humbling and painful to see. To think that my uncle used to walk around the streets selling lottery tickets just to make less than a dollar a day. The river I looked at was the river my uncles used to swim in. It was also the same river my mom swam in because her father was too busy in jail to teach her how to.

To see that my mom had a childhood too.

To see that she still has a part of that inner child.

To listen to her tell me of how she used to run across this one small isle because the bodies of unborn children used to be buried here.

To listen to her tell me the bridge we’re crossing is the bridge that my grandma tried to kill herself in.

Stories of living in piss poor conditions, struggle, suffering, and surviving together. I thought Huế had nothing for me here when I first came. Relics of the past. But as the stories began to pile up, I slowly realized that this small city in the middle of nowhere actually has a long history underneath it that I can’t see in front of me.

I met someone named Chị Phương on Cô Châu’s side who was very kind and welcoming to me. She was the definition of sweet and caring, unafraid to start and maintain a connection with everyone. That was the Chị that convinced me Huế wasn’t as lifeless as I initially thought. I met her last evening at the joint family dinner, and she made a constant effort to be friendly with me. So, I opened up, and we were cool since then. We ended up going to a tea/coffee shop and going to a live music restaurant across the street. I ended up bonding with two little boys that came along and singing on stage with Lindsey and Chị Phương.

Man, Lindsey and I got up to sing Santeria, and we were bombing it. At one point, we just stood there cause we were doing nothing right. I wanted to just apologize and walk off, but something in me just said fuck it. I ended up hitting it from the beginning again and singing a whole verse and chorus before exiting. I could feel the change of mood in the crowd from disappointment to entertainment. Someone even gave us a rose with cash!

This morning, Chị Phương picked me, Lindsey, and one of the little boys up to go eat breakfast with her parents, After that, we visited a coffee shop where her sister came through (the sister is the mother of the two boys). Then, our car went to a second coffee shop where I flew my drone for like 3 minutes before my mom called lol. But it was fun! I felt like I got to see a side of what Huế has to offer for the modern generation.

She ended up picking us up and the whole joint family followed us to the airport. I remember saying bye to all of them, and standing in the line to enter the boarding side. I was convinced that Huế had nothing left for me, but the image of all the extended aunties, Chị’s, and the little Khoi boy made me miss my roots for the first time.

Chị Phương told me throughout the day that since the moment Khoi met me, he began looking up to me. She said Khoi was scared to be on the floating restaurant the night he saw me but decided to man up when he saw how unafraid I was. Khoi said he wanted to be big and tall like me when he grew up. Chị Phương even said that when Khoi saw me going for the fish spring roll, he felt inspired to go for some too. When I got in the car to go to the airport earlier, she told me Khoi wished that I could extend my flight an extra day so he could hang out with me longer. He thought my drone was really cool and wanted to fly one in the future. I told him that when he grows up, I’ll bring him one as a gift. I ended up liking the kid. I hope I see him again. I hope I see Chị Phương and all the extended aunties too. I don’t know why I felt all of this just today. Maybe it’s knowing that I’m not coming back for a while. Maybe it’s how Chị Phương was so kind and welcoming towards me. Maybe it’s Khoi boy. Maybe it’s the love the aunties showed me even though they were strangers to me for most of the trip until now. I just know that when I looked back to them before crossing to boarding area, I felt a special kind of love and newfound appreciation for them.

[crazycookiecrumbles]

Meatball Hero

Masterlist

A/N: Second to last chapter! This will conclude the main story and the final chapter will be an epilogue, I think

Pairings/Characters: Frank Castle x Reader, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Steve Rogers

Warnings: violence, gore, wrist cutting, beatings, tony’s annoying mouth, peter and steven being big ass dorks

Summary: Can Frank fight his own nature and instinct to kill when it comes to you, or is the whole world doomed?

Previous Chapter: McNuggets

WC: ~6k

You and Tony struggled, but you made it. You both felt like shit, but you were in a rush, and you needed to make sure you got there before Marc did, because you knew he didn’t have any issue with not sparing Frank for the greater good. 

When the two of you arrived at the museum, you parked the car and sat there for a moment just looking around. Everything seemed so peaceful. There were kids and their families walking around without a care in the world, tourists taking pictures of all the sights, and then there was Tony, sitting in the back, pouting like a child.

“I should’ve put up another suit in space closer to this hemisphere,” Tony mumbled. “Can’t believe I let you talk me out of it.”

“I’m the one that told you to do exactly that, and you called me a square and not to worry so much,” you turned to glare at your father who blinked twice before shrugging.

“Okay. No need to brag about your great ideas,” Tony scoffed as he leaned forward from the backseat and rested his chin on your shoulder. “You should call one of them, see how close they are. We need to make a timeline, and knowing Peter, he’s probably been on Instagram this entire time, so, tracking won’t matter.”

“…God damn it,” you muttered and took out your phone. With a quick press of a few buttons, you held the phone up and put it on speaker.

“Hey, Y/N!” Peter’s excited voice came through. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine,” you said, listening to the background noise that was indescribable to you. “What am I hearing?”

“Oh, that ‘whooshing’ thing? Frank kind of drives like a maniac,” Peter explained.  “I’ve never been in a car going this fast before. I almost threw up! Also, I’ve never stolen a car before. Hey, listen, I know it’s super wrong and a bad thing to do….but I kind of feel awesome.”

“Jesus Christ, the kid’s gonna add auto theft to his resume. Well, at least it’s before he’s 18,” Tony sighed.

“Right,” you cleared your throat. “So you’re with Frank, you two are okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay. We should be there soon, in, like, an hour, maybe. Will the museum be open?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t really matter. We can always — “

“Another crime! Sick. It’ll be my last crime. I kind of hope we break into the museum so I can add that to my list and then never do this again so — “

“Sweetie, can you put Frank on the phone, please?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

Tony watched as you thanked Peter and took the call off speaker. When you brought the phone to your ear, Tony scoffed that you were depriving him of novella-worthy drama. You rolled your eyes and told him to shut up as you turned away from him and waited to hear Frank’s voice.

Meanwhile, Frank took the phone from Peter and exhaled quickly before holding it up to his ear and keeping it there with his shoulder. He cleared his throat, sweat beads suddenly form across his brow as he waited to hear your voice, “Hey, Princess.”

You beamed, heat flooding your cheeks as you curled in on yourself and relished the sound of his voice, “Hey there, stranger. Long time no chat.”

“Yeah,” Frank grunted. “Look, I’m sorry —“

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, “If it weren’t for me —“

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be an emptier, unhappy man,” Frank said quietly, hating how Peter was sitting there pretending like he wasn’t hanging on his every word, but obviously was doing so given how he was closing the windows in the car to better be able to hear him. “Shit happens, Y/N. This? This is a pretty big pile of shit we’ve stepped in, but we’ll get out of it.”

You snorted at his descriptive choice of words and fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Still, it’s my fault. And I know Peter must’ve told you by now what we had to do.”

“He did. And I Want you to do whatever it takes, you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to get you out of this Frank, I promise.”

Franks sighed, “Princess, if you can’t —“

“I will.”

“You can’t let him take over. He’ll destroy everything, he’ll — “

“He’ll get what’s coming to him. But he won’t come out, okay? I’m going to make this right, and I’m going to be the one to protect you, got it?”

Frank snorted to himself, “Buys me pizza, protects me from gods, you’re a special kind of woman.”

“Damn right I am,” you replied. “Get here soon. Okay? Let’s end this. We’ll go on a date, my treat.”

“Nah, my treat, how about that?” Frank grinned. “I’ll see you soon. Here’s the kid. I lo—” he stopped himself when he realized what he was going to say. He couldn’t do that to you, no. It was far too much of a cliche. This wouldn’t be the first time he said that, it couldn’t be. Hell, he could barely believe he was actually even going to say that.

Him?

The last woman he said that to was gunned down at a carousel, and now he almost said it to you before facing a certain death.This was….this was awful. He shouldn’t do this, he couldn’t do it. That was unfair to say, because what if he didn’t make it? Hell, what if you didn’t even think about him in that way and he was just putting the pressure on you? It was stupid. It was so, so stupid. He couldn’t do that to you.

He didn’t.

Without saying another word, he handed Peter the phone.

Peter could feel the tension radiating off of Frank, and said nothing. Instead, he said he was back on the phone to grab your attention.

Meanwhile, you were wondering if you should’ve said something more to Frank, but you didn’t want to jinx what was to come. Then, when he stopped himself, you wondered if maybe you were moving too fast, and the speed was what made him stop. Maybe he felt pressured. Maybe you had feelings for him that weren’t exactly reciprocated yet.  Maybe you were just further along in your feelings of this relationship than him. Maybe it was better no one said anything at all. This wasn’t the time nor the place, you all had a mission.

“Peter, I’m going to need you to suit up and be ready,” you began. “I want you hiding like a creepy little spider with the vase until I say so. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter nodded. “Do I tell —“

“No,” you shook your head. “We still need an element of surprise and you’re going to stay the cute little intern who is just along from the ride.”

Peter turned bright pink, “I’m not cute…I’m handsome.”

“That is the cutest thing you’ve ever said.”

“You’re embarrassing me,” he whined, which made you laugh at his anguish. “So…I’ll just text you?”

“Yeah. We’re going to go in first and try to find the entrance to get underground to that old temple, we’ll scout the place out. I’ll see you soon, Peter. Be safe!” You hung up and looked to your dad who was shaking his head.

“Should’ve said you loved him. You know, every drama movie or show would’ve had you say it.”

“Shut up.”

You and Tony prepared the best you could. You cleaned yourselves up, even though you were sure one or both of you had concussions. There was no suit of armor for backup, given that it was still in flight to that location and wasn’t going to be there just yet. Tony, without telling you, made a call for some extra help, but it likely wasn’t going to be there in time either. You still had your whip, he had his blaster, and you had a knife left behind in the hotel room by Frank, and the two of you were just going to have to deal with what you had the best you could. 

After a little while, the two of you entered the museum. Tony immediately went straight to the gift shop to see if there was anything he could buy for Pepper. He was humming to himself and going through a selection on the countertop when you walked over and elbowed him in the gut. He hissed that he was being perfectly normal and casual while you were being an ‘annoying try-hard.’ A smack to the back of his head reminded him that you were being a ‘try-hard’ for a very specific reason.

As the two of you strolled through the museum and looked around, you noticed a heavy metal door that when you walked by it, you could feel a strong gust of wind blowing underneath the crack in the door. You nodded to Tony who studied the door quickly and seemed to nod in agreement with you that that could be a potential opening.

“You know what would be funny?” Tony leaned against the wall casually while you began to text Peter, “If everyone in here was actually a cult member and not just an employee. How hilarious would that be?”

“Given how fucked up we both are from that crash? Not very, dad,” you muttered.

Tony hummed, “That’s a pity, because I think you could use a laugh right now.”

“I just don’t see how that’s funny at a time like this,” you put your phone away and looked up to see what Tony had mentioned was actually coming true. The employees of the museum, which now, suddenly, seemed very empty, were walking towards the two of you and cornering you.

“I hate you,” you sighed. “I really, really hate you.”

“Eh, relax. We can take them,” Tony replied.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank didn’t park by the museum. He ditched the car a quarter of a mile away. Peter and him walked side by side, Frank’s head on a swivel as he watched every single person to make sure they weren’t trying to attack him or Peter. Meanwhile, Peter was completely calm and casual as he walked alongside him and simply relied on his spidey senses.

As they approached, Frank took Peter behind a tree behind the museum and dropped his duffel bag on the ground. Frank took off the jacket he had been wearing, dropped it on the bag, and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows as he pulled out his bulletproof vest and studied it for a moment.

“I can’t believe she let you take that,” Peter remarked.

“Well,” Frank cleared his throat. “She doesn’t have to know. Here, you wear it.”

“What? I can’t! You need it. I — “

“Kid,” Frank looked around before settling a hand on his shoulder. “That museum right there? Trap.”

“How do you know?”

“It said it was closed, but it’s business hours, and I bet if you call Y/N she won’t answer. Plus, they’ve got guys on the windows and security is keeping people off the steps.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “You stay out here and keep that vase and your ass safe, got it? When it’s safe, when it’s cleared out, we’ll tell you to come in. Okay?”

Wow, this was even easier than he thought. Peter nodded enthusiastically and looked behind Frank before looking back at him, “You’re not going to kill anyone, right?”

Frank groaned, “No. Even though it’d be easier.”

“So, like, do you even know how to sneak then?”

“You’re a real smart ass kid, you know that? You sound just like Y/N.”

Peter shrugged, “I think she copies me because I’m pretty cool.”

Frank blinked, “Yup. Sure.”

“Wow.”

He shook his head and nodded, “Okay. You be safe. If anything happens to you, I’m fucked. You can throw a punch, right?”

“I knocked out that guy in the bathroom!”

“Just let me see. Do you know what to do if someone’s got a knife to you?”

“I’m fine—“

Frank wanted to prove that Peter wasn’t fine and that he should listen to him and take a moment to practice. Peter surprised Frank when the man pretended like he was going to stab him in the gut. Peter slapped Frank’s hand down, deflected his other hand, and shoved Frank back with just a little bit of his strength, surprising the man who looked at him in shock.

“I uh, learned a few things,” Peter argued. “School, they had an instructor come in once during gym class. Some kid had gotten mugged. Right outside the school! It was crazy. I don’t remember what it was. Could’ve been money. That makes sense. Honestly, it could’ve been his shoes, shoes are important — “

“Okay, okay, I got it,” Frank said, interrupting Peter’s horrible attempt at a lie. “Just stay here, stay low, and keep quiet, okay?”

Peter nodded, “Okay. And, Frank, be careful, please. Y/N would be really disappointed if something happens to you, and me too! I don’t know about Mr. Stark. He’s hard to read. I bet he’d care.”

Frank snickered, “Thanks, kid. Keep an eye on your phone.”

When Frank went to enter into the museum, Peter quickly made sure no one was around and changed into his suit. He too had a plan: sneak into the museum undetected, and hide until the time was right, except that he didn’t need to rely on his phone to know when. He himself had the perfect plan in mind.

Frank was very careful not to kill anyone was he entered the museum. He realized he had to pull his punches and hold back on his own strength just to knock people out, because this thing inside of him was making him stronger, turning him into the perfect killing machine. 

He found the heavy door you had spotted earlier, but it was wide open. It was a dead giveaway that this was a trap. They were waiting for him. They knew he was coming, and because you were nowhere in sight, Frank knew that you were in danger.

He followed the spiral staircase down, finding himself in a cavernous area lit by torches along the walls every couple of feet. He was quiet as he navigated the underground. He realized he was approaching what had to have been the fallen temple remains when he saw broken marble pillars and heaps of stone the closer he got. He was amazed when he entered a clearing and saw a temple in much better condition that he had imagined. The roof was mostly gone and on an angle, one pillar had a massive crack down the middle while the others were missing chunks of them or gone completely, but the building itself was in tact. Frank steeled himself and marched towards it, intent on finding you and maiming whoever had you.

The inside was lit with torches. The floor was dark, dirty, littered with animal carcasses and bones he couldn’t identify. The place stunk of death, and the walkway down to the altar was lined with people hiding under red cloaks, chanting quietly, standing there and waiting for him.

At the end of the aisle at the altar were two people on their knees. Tony was on one side, badly beaten, hands tied behind his back and two people holding him down by his shoulders. Beside him was you, just as hurt with your hands tied behind your back as well. You looked ashamed, upset with yourself for not having seen a trap like this a mile away like you figured Frank must have.

“Let ‘em go,” Frank grunted. “Let ‘em go and you can have me.”

Your head shot up, “No! Are you insane? No, Frank!”

“Ignore her,” Frank said as he walked closer to them. He stopped when a knife was held to your throat, and now Tony was shouting and struggling. “Just ignore her. I’m the vessel, you hear me? I’m the vessel! Let her go and you got me.”

“I would like to do that,” the man holding a knife to your throat said as he lowered his cloak. “But I, as Idean, loyal follower of Ares, understand, you, Mr. Castle, do not play well with others. I cannot simply take your word as promise to us as a vessel.”

Frank looked desperate, and you couldn’t remember seeing that look in his eyes before, not even when you were hurt at that warehouse that led to this entire situation. His eyes were big, his hands were up like he was pleading, and he was struggling with taking steps forward or rushing backwards to prove he wouldn’t attack them and make them hurt you.

“Please, I am begging. I am begging you, not to hurt her,” Frank began.

Idean looked to Frank and sighed, “I just can’t trust you.”

You felt the knife press into your skin and the sting made you wince. You quickly realized what was happening as the blade started to drag from one side of your neck. You were frozen in pain as you realized you were going to bleed out in front of Frank, who was going to lose his mind and kill everyone in the building before moving on to the world.

The blade stopped suddenly, and Idean collapsed to the ground. You looked down to see a small, tiny throwing knife embedded in his eye as he hit the ground. The knife in his hand fell to the floor, and you could feel blood slowly dripping from the side of your neck. You looked ahead quickly and saw Frank was standing perfectly still. Soon he was huffing and puffing, and when he looked at you, his eyes were glowing bright red.

Frank smirked as he stood taller. Finding his shirt confining, he ripped his shirt starting at the collar. It tore down his chest and he ripped off the rest of it, leaving him to stand there in his utility pants and boots and pound on his chest twice, “My loyal followers,” he began, in a voice you couldn’t recognize, “It’s time. Kneel before your conqueror, for I have returned.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay, good,” Tony breathed as he studied you. “He just missed the artery.”

“Yeah, and Frank didn’t miss,” you snapped. “Dad —“

“I know,” Tony nodded. “Underoos!”

Nothing happened. Instead, Frank whipped around and stared at Tony curiously. Tony laughed nervously and looked around for a certain someone ,but couldn’t find him.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Sorry, sorry!” You heard Peter’s voice shout as he suddenly ran into the temple, the vase on his back. “I bumped into someone, but before that my fly got caught on my — never mind, you guys don’t need to know that part.”

You sighed to your father, “You brought him here, ya know.”

Frank whipped around to see Spider-Man, which meant absolutely nothing to him at the moment, but when he saw the vase his veins bulged in his body and he pointed at him, “Get my vase!”

“Shit,” you and Tony swore under your breaths.

Peter looked around quickly before jumping in the air and shooting his webs. He needed to be smart. He had to protect the vase, and himself, but he also needed to help you and Tony. Luckily for him, the person he bumped into also had a similar agenda.

Suddenly from behind you, you could hear the cultists that were watching you and Tony groaning. You tried to look behind you but winced and looked ahead instead. The rope behind your back suddenly fell and you were helped to your feet. When you turned around, you saw a man in all white once again. You thought back quickly to remember who was who, and you sighed in relief when you realized who the suit belonged to, “Steven!”

He nodded, two thumbs pointed at him, “Steven with a V! That’s me! Here to help, love. Franklin’s a little bonkers now, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, yeah, real wacky, Mary Poppins,” Tony snapped. “Spider-Man’s got the vase. We have to make sure he doesn’t break it, and we’ve gotta keep Frank from killing, well, all of us since he’s Ares.”

Steven nodded, “Okay. You two are, well, mangled. You stay here, I’ll deal with Franklin!”

Steven rushed down the steps and leapt into the air to kick Frank in the spine. The man didn’t budge. He turned around slowly, tilted his head to the side, and grabbed Steven by the throat before lifting him in  the air and slamming him down through the marble floor.

“Ouch,” Steven squeaked.

Tony quickly ripped part of his shirt and wrapped the cloth around your neck to stop the bleeding. You both went to your pile of belongings and grabbed what you had needed while they were all fighting, making sure to hide a knife up your sleeve. Peter was handling the cultists fairly easily, if not slowly to make sure the vase was okay. Tony used the little power left in his blaster to lend a hand, fighting through the pain he was in.

You turned your whip on its lowest setting and slowly stood up, holding onto a wall for support. Frank was wiping the floor with Steven who was trying very, very hard not to hurt him. Steven, having been thrown into another column, held his hand up and pointed a finger to the sky, “One sec, chap. Marc, you’re up, mate.”

Steven’s suit changed, which meant that Marc was now out to play. He went directly for Frank, leaping into the air and bringing a knee to Frank’s face. He ripped off his crescent darts and started slashing at Frank without care. The two were fighting and it was ugly. Frank took a hit that broke his nose, a stab to the gut several times with the darts, and he was still standing like nothing happened. Marc was going to kill Frank and force Ares out that way, and he was going to make sure he did it.

You couldn’t let him.

With your whip on its lowest setting, you grabbed Marc’s wrist as he swung at Frank and yanked him back. Frank used this to his advantage and delivered a devastating blow to Marc’s face that had his head snapping to the side. Another blow from Frank went to his knee, and you used this to yank Marc towards you again. When he was on his side and getting up, you stumbled over to him and held the knife threateningly to him.

“Don’t kill him. I can save him!”

Marc stared up at you, “You think you can stop me?”

“I’ll do what I must,” you replied.

Marc growled, “Then hurry the fuck up.”

You turned away from him and caught a glimpse of the scene. Frank threw Tony into a column, the man landing on the ground and barely able to move. Frank was going right for Peter, so you used your whip to grab Frank’s arm. Frank stopped walking and looked to his bicep. He laughed and yanked hard, which sent you flying towards him. Frank tossed your whip to the side and grabbed you around the throat to lift you clean off your feet.

“You could’ve been useful for breeding, pity,” Frank laughed in your face.

Your eyes widened, “Oh, no…do I have a breeding kink now?”

Ignoring you, Frank slammed you down into the ground. You yelped in pain and grabbed his forearm with one hand, one leg coming up to wrap around his arm as you tried to limit his movements, but it ended up doing nothing, ��Frank, Frank, come on. It’s me! The annoying princess, right? Frank?”

There was a flash of those deep brown eyes, and you cried out realizing you had gotten through to him, “Frank!”

“Do it,” He growled, his body shaking violently as parts of him started to glow red and fight against Ares’ hold. “Do it!!! Now!”

“I love you,” you unsheathed the knife hidden up your sleeve and slashed Frank’s wrist. “Vase, now!”

“On it!” Peter swung in quickly and landed after a flip right beside you. He easily grabbed Frank’s shoulder and slammed him down into the ground,  missing how Frank stared at him in utter shock as he lay there bleeding. Peter took out the vase and quickly held it to Frank’s wrist to catch the blood. “It’s not enough—hey!” Peter dodged Frank’s other hand coming at him and quickly webbed it down. He saw Frank’s eyes were red again and he scoffed, “Behave, mister.”

“We need more blood,” you breathed as you looked at Frank’s arm before his entire body. He was losing a lot of blood already thanks to his fight with Marc, but he was still going. He was bleeding from every direction, his face was a mess, his body bruised and beaten. You didn’t want to do this, because now you really feared you couldn’t hold up your end of the promise of saving him.

“Cut down his wrist,” Peter said quietly. “The blood will flow more. I—I can web it after, seal it to stop the bleeding. We can do it. It’s okay,” Peter tried to be so supportive as he watched you squeeze Frank’s arm. “I—I’ll do it —“

“No,” you picked up the knife again. “Hold him down. I’ll do it.”

Peter webbed the rest of Frank’s body down, leaving his arm free for you. Frank was fighting against you, so Peter easily pinned his arm down while you sliced down Frank’s wrist and forearm. Around you, Marc and Tony were finishing up with the cultists, all the while you were bleeding Frank dry.

The color drained from Frank’s face, and slowly from the rest of his body. As you watched the blood fill the vase, you noticed how the vase began to glow red from the base of it all the way to the top. When Frank’s bleeding slowed, the vase glowed completely red, the blood absorbing into it, which made the red designs on the clay grow a vibrant color like they had been freshly painted. 

Peter quickly webbed Frank’s arm and the rest of his wounds while freeing him. You pushed the vase to the side and scooted over to drag his torso onto your lap while Marc and Tony approached.

“Hey, hey, can you hear me? It’s over, Frank. It’s over. Just hang on, okay? You just have to hang on for me,” you pled with Frank as he lay there completely limp. “Come on you stubborn motherfucker, you can’t die yet. Okay? You’re not dying, Frank! Come on give me something!”

“I’ll get rid of this,” Marc said quietly as he picked up the vase. “Somewhere where no one can get it and this won’t happen again.”

“Probably for the better,” Tony muttered. “Kid—“

“Yeah, Mr. Stark?” Peter looked over to him.

“You’re carrying the big guy.”

“That’s fine. I totally can.”

Marc looked at Spider-Man strangely, head tilting to the side. Suddenly, the suit changed and, once again, Steven was fronting as he rushed over to the young man and grabbed his shoulders, “Oh, my god! Are you the young lad? Peter? Are you the young lad from the museum, the one they keep talking about? That’s you, lad, you’re the little bug boy? Oh, my god, the things you can do! You stopped that man’s fist like it was an infant trying to strike you, that was impressive! Wow, look at you! You’re an impressive one, yeah? Way more than what meets the eye!”

“Oh my fucking god, this guy again,” Tony groaned and stared at the ceiling while pinching the bridge of his nose. “Guys, we need to go.”

“Yeah, right, sorry. I’m just—wow! Good for you, kiddo! Bloody amazing! I hope I don’t have to face you in a fight, but I’m mighty scrappy myself.”

“I saw! You’re really cool, and those dagger things? The crescent stuff?”

“My darts, yeah!”

“So sick!”

“Innit, though!?” Steven beamed. “I like you! You appreciate how cool it is. Marc’s just all, ‘it’s a weapon Steven, not a toy’ and I’m like, yeah, it’s a weapon all right, but it’s a really, really cool one now innit?”

“It sounds like he doesn’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

“He definitely never stops to smell the roses enough. If you ask me, he could use a lot more of that,” Steven replied. 

“Guys!” You shouted. “This is very cute. You may exchange phone numbers, but we need to go because if Frank dies, I’m coming after all of you!”

“Oh, I believe that,” Peter said quietly before picking up Frank absolutely effortlessly. “Let’s go. She scares me.”

“I’d never hurt you,” you sighed. “I’d embarrass you in front of your friends.”

“See? Scary,” Peter repeated to Steven quietly.

Steven nodded in agreement. The man slipped between you and Tony, put his arms around the both of you, and helped you to walk out of the underground. It wasn’t hard for anyone to see you were in pain. Forgetting the physical pain you had been in, you were very clearly distraught over Frank’s condition. Yes, the man had taken quite a few beatings, yes, he’d basically kissed death, but you’d never seen him look this bad before. This was terrifying. Were you really going to be the one that killed Frank Castle?

As you exited the museum, you felt a strong gust of wind. You all looked to the side to see a quinjet make a quick, rough landing and open up to reveal Steve jogging down towards you all.

“Oh, about time! You’re just extremely late and missed the party,” Tony said as Steve ran over to check on you all.

“What the hell happened?” Steve asked as he noticed Frank. “Is he —“

“Almost,” you said quickly.

Steve nodded to you, “Okay. Let’s get him in the jet and get him hooked up. We’ll make sure he’s stable until we get back to the tower. We’ll stop somewhere if we have to — I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Steve looked to Steven who shrieked.

“Captain America! Big fan! Love your work, love the shield! Hi, my name is Steven with a V! Truly a pleasure.”

“I hate him,” Tony whispered to Steve.

Steve sighed, “You hate everyone, Tony. Steven, it’s nice to meet you. Can we give you a lift?”

“Oh, no, no, that’s my ride over there,” Steven pointed to the white limousine waiting for him. “We’re going to go dispose of this vase, make sure it never happens again and all. Everyone take care! Pleasure working with you all! You know, except when Y/N threw us out the car, I get it, though, goodbye!”

You all watched as Steven ran to the car. Steve looked to all of you and tilted his head to the side, “Did he say ‘us’?”

“It’s a long story, which I can happily tell you as soon as we all get some drugs in us, except the kid, who has not a single scratch on him,” Tony said as you all piled into the jet. “Come on, buck up, Y/N. He’s not dead yet.”

“I actually am losing his pulse,” Peter said quietly as he brought Frank in. “So, whatever we can do for him, let’s do it now.”

“Oh, god, Frank,” you cried.

~~*~*~*~*~~~*~*~*~~~*~*~*~~~

It was a quiet walk by yourself. Everyone left you alone to do what you needed to do in order to feel better. They knew this was a fragile time, and you were just trying to do the best, do everything you could. With a deep breath, you rounded the hallway and entered the familiar medical wing. You nodded to the staff before entering the private room and shutting it behind you, flipping the switch to lower the curtains to give you even more privacy.

Sitting upright in the hospital bed was was Frank, pouting like a petulant child who had gotten his toy taken away from him. Most of his body was in bandages, and 3/4 of his face was still purple and bruised. You sighed as you walked closer to him and sat on the edge of his bed.

“You know, for a fancy tower, I thought, you know, you guys would have something better than this shitty purple jello,” Frank pouted as he put the cup down on the tray and stared at you. “It’s borderline torture, I would know.”

You hummed, “Well, maybe your tastebuds are broken considering you died about four times before we could land near a hospital for you.”

He blinked, “Okay. Fine. I deserved that one.”

“Uh huh,” you smiled softly. “But maybe something would make it taste better.”

“What’s that?”

You removed your hand from your back and slammed a brown bag down on the tray table. Frank stared at you curiously before a familiar smell filled his nostrils. His heart raced, you could hear it on the machine, and you grinned as he grabbed the bag in disbelief and opened it, “Oh, no you fucking didn’t.”

“Oh, yes, yes I did,” you beamed watching him pull out the sandwich from the bag and sniff it while it was still in its wrapping. “Meatball hero from Parm, extra sauce like you like it.”

Frank groaned as he set it down, “God, I fucking love you princess,” he exclaimed as he ripped open the wrapping. When he realized what he had said, his smile faltered slightly and his hand froze in the air before it came down on his tray table for him to drum on. “I uh,”

“You love me, huh, Frank?” You raised an eyebrow as you studied him. “Because I bring you meatball heroes?”

“No,” He muttered and looked down at the table.

“Well, now isn’t this cute? Shy, bashful Frank Castle. My, my, my, have I died and gone to heaven?”

He groaned, “You’re not funny. You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Hmm, yeah, I may be, but I’m a pain in the ass that loves you,” you said, watching as he lifted his head ever so slightly to glance at you through the corner of his eye.

“You um, you what?” He asked, reaching up to scratch his head.

“I love you too, Frank Castle,” you smiled and grabbed his hand. “I love you. I wish I didn’t wait so long to say it, but I do. And if it scares you, too bad, you’re still stuck with me.”

“Ah, like a parasite,” Frank teased, sitting up a little taller, al little more confidently as he held your hand. “I love you, Y/N. You drive me crazy.”

You smirked, “I have that affect on people. Now, you gonna give me a bite of that hero, or what?”

“Oh, no, this is for me. Where’s yours?” Frank asked as he unwrapped the sandwich. “‘Cause this is all mine, because I’m hurt, ya know? Got possessed and all. I need this.”

“You won’t share with me?” You laughed, “Rude!”

“Nah, I’m kidding. Come on, put one of my balls in your mouth,” Frank said as he held up the sandwich to you.

You shook your head, “You’re an idiot, Frank Castle.”

“Yup, just another idiot in love. Go figure,” Frank winked at you around a mouthful of food. He leaned forward, ignoring the pain searing though his body as he reached up to cup the back of your head. He pressed his lips against yours, causing you to giggle from tasting the sauce on your lips as he kissed you. “I love you, Y/N. Thanks for saving my ass.”

“Just returning the favor, babe,” you smiled softly and kissed him on the lips. When he pulled away, you snatched his wrist, brought the sandwich to your mouth, and took a massive bite out of it, making him laugh and yell at you that you were abusing an injured man. 

After a few minutes of silence, Frank spoke, “I can’t fucking believe Peter fucking Parker is Spider-Man.”

[boom-bakugou]

‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.

Word Count: 5k

masterlist

You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.

‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,

We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.

RSVP blah-‘

Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.

Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,

Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.

Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too

Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has

Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time

Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me

You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?

Bakugou: what do you mean?

Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own

Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra

Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is

Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?

Y/N: you mean us?

Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot

The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

Y/N: fuck it, i’m in

-

“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.

“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.

You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.

“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.

Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?

“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.

“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”

“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”

“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”

Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?

Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.

“Katsu?”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”

“Yeah- whatever.”

Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.

“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.

Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.

Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.

“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”

The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?

“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.

Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.

Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.

You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.

After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”

Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.

“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.

“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.

“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”

It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.

“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.

“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”

Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.

“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”

His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.

“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.

“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.

“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.

“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”

Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.

“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.

“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”

His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.

“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.

Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.

“Y/N?”

You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.

“Hey.”

“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.

“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”

You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?

“Katsu-“

“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”

It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.

It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.

Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.

“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.

Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.

All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.

Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.

Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.

“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”

“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.

His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.

“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.

“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.

Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.

“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”

An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.

“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.

Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.

Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.

“Katsu-“

“Shut up.”

Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.

“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.

“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.

“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.

The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.

Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.

“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”

“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.

“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”

“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.

“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.

“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.

Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.

“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.

“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.

“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”

Uh oh.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“

“But I am better at you at something for sure.”

Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.

“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”

Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.

[the-iceni-bitch]

I Long to Be

Pairing: Mr Freezy x hit woman!reader (kitten), Officer Bill x hit woman!reader (PG only for now)

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Your new dynamic has Bobby ready to explode.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, over the pants hand job, dry humping, mentions of oral and penetrative sex), emotional manipulation, reader is a massive bitch, slightly subby Bobby (what?!?!), cheating adjacent, domestic violence as foreplay, inappropriate behavior at a funeral, gossipy neighbors, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: This is mostly just setting the stage for the next arc I’m gonna do with our murderers but whoo boy are you sluts in for a treat! Sorry for inflicting the stache on you, but I’m just gonna lean into it.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!!

You moaned softly when Bobby pulled you back against his chest, the hand that wasn’t digging into your tit buried knuckle deep in your cunt from behind as he stroked your walls slowly.

“No marks.” You ordered when you felt his teeth scrape over your pulse, ignoring the snarl he shot you through the mirror before settling for licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. “Don’t fucking pout at me, pretty sure even those dumb fucks out there would notice if I walked out there with a hickey. Control yourself.”

“You need to quit being a fucking bitch.” He growled when you squeezed his cock before starting to stroke it through his slacks again. “It’s been five days, if I don’t feel that warm snatch wrapped around me soon, I’m gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Then you’ll just have to wait even longer, Bobby. I told you, we’re gonna drill some fucking self control into you.” You rolled your hips into his hand when his palm ground into your clit, dropping your head back against his shoulder and purring when you felt his cock throbbing under your palm. “Plus, I’m still pissed at you for the unbelievable pile of bull shit I had to dig you out of.”

“But… fuck, kitten.” He buried his face in your hair to cover his groan when you squeezed him again, bucking his hips into your grip and tugging softly at your nipple as you brought him towards his peak. “I fucking need it. You can just suck on the tip a little, just tide me over, I’m fucking dying.”

“You’re fucking dramatic, I’m still letting you come, so quit being a bitch.” You felt warmth bloom under your hand and smirked at him, your pussy sucking on his fingers as he started fucking them into you harder until you came with a broken sob.

“You goddamn cunt.” He looked furious when you pulled away from him, growling when you wrenched out of his grip to straighten your dress out. “I swear to god, you keep fucking holding out on me and I’m gonna split you in half in front of those cunts until you’re bleeding and begging me to stop.”

“No you’re not.” You shoved your tits back into your dress and did up the buttons. “You’re gonna play the grieving husband and father for as long as I tell you, and once I feel like the fucking heat has died down enough, maybe then you can get your dick wet. But until that happens, you’ll just have to settle for hands and dry humping. Now shut up and try to look wrecked.”

He didn’t have to try, he was wrecked. Dealing with your constant teasing without being able to actually fuck you had him feeling like his nerves were frayed to the limit, and topping that off with having to play the tormented widower was testing the self control you were adamant he exercise. There hadn’t even been any jobs for him to redirect his pent up rage, so he was stuck settling for furiously jerking himself every night as he longed for your perfect, warm cunt.

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before opening the door and heading back out to the wake, not bothering to fix your face as it fit the narrative that Bobby had been comforting you while you cried yourself out. With how haggard he was, your stupid cunt neighbors had no problem accepting when you told them that you and Bobby had been supporting each other through this tough time. 

Bobby’s jaw was clenched tight as he stood at the edge of his living room, barely paying attention to the twats who kept coming up to him to tell him how sorry they were for his loss while he watched you act like the perfect grieving friend. You shot him a glare when he tried to move closer to you, hiding your smirk behind your drink and leaning against the wall when he accepted another unwanted embrace like a good little widower.

“Hi, Suzy?” You had to act quick to school your face when you turned and found the fucking cop who had flirted with you at the damn crime scene standing there, you had not expected to see him again.

“Officer Bill!” You caught Bobby start out of the corner of your eye, shooting him a glance to settle him before turning back to your surprising visitor. “Robert’s just over there, did you need to talk to him about something? I thought everything was closed.”

“It is, and please just call me Bill.” He gave you a nervous smile and stepped a little closer to you, fidgeting with his hands as he struggled with what to say to you. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I know these things tend to put all the focus on the family but I wanted to make sure you were ok? Since she was your best friend, I’m sure things are hard.”

Oh shit. Your flirting had worked a little too well, this boy was sweet on you. It took some doing for you to fight the pleased smile that tried to spread across your face, especially when you caught Bobby glaring at you over the cop’s shoulder when the man reached and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’s been so hard.” You gave a small sob and could have laughed when he drew you into his chest, burying your face in the warm planes of muscle as he did his best to comfort you. “I feel so alone now. I’d usually talk to Mary about this, but now I have no one. Maybe I could talk to Robert but he’s suffering so much worse than me, I don’t want to burden him any more.”

“God, you’re so sweet, honey.” You managed to disguise your snort as another sob, pressing your body close to his and trying not to grin when he settled his hands at the small of your back, “You can talk to me, Suzy.”

“Bill, you just met me.” This was working out great for you; a dumb cop who was already wrapped around your finger and a new way to piss off Bobby, what could be better? “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Baby, no, never.” He gave you a soft smile when you lifted your head to meet his gaze, cupping your face in one massive palm and gently brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheek in an effort to soothe you. “I just wanna help, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok?”

“Okay.” You leaned into his cheek and sighed softly as you batted your eyelashes at him, it had been a while since you had played this game, but seems like you were still a fucking pro. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” You let him give your waist a squeeze before stepping back, your eyes finding Bobby’s and narrowing at the look of unbridled rage you found there until he was cowed. “There’s a little bakery near here if you wanna have some privacy.”

He nodded towards the gaggle of housewives that was watching you with interest while the rest of your neighbors started filtering home and you sighed, accepting his hand and letting him lead you towards the front door while you gave Bobby one more warning glance to keep him from doing something stupid. As soon as the door closed behind you the busybodies went crazy, whisper shouting at each other as they tried to keep some semblance of decorum while they packed up all the leftovers and helped Bobby clean up, or rather, did all the cleaning while Bobby started downing scorch like it was his job.

Thirty minutes later and he was finally alone, exhausted from all the unwanted hugs and sympathies he had to endure and wanting nothing more than to lose himself in you. But he couldn’t because you were still out with that fucking cop. He sulked in the chair at the front window, watching your house as he slowly drained the bottle of scotch and tried to keep himself from imagining what you might be doing with that fucker.

By the time the bastard’s car finally pulled up in front of your house an hour later, the bottle was empty, Bobby wallowing in a pool of self pity that he never would have admitted to and growling when he watched the officer help you out of the car and lead you to your front door with an arm around your waist. When he watched him give you a peck on the cheek he almost lost it, dropping the bottle and cursing when he heard it smash against the floor. At least you didn’t invite him inside, sending him on his way with a little wave before strolling into your house without a second glance. 

Bobby waited a few minutes after the cocksucker pulled away before storming over to your place, barely keeping himself together until he was able to knock on your front door. 

“Hey there, Bobby.” You gave him a wicked grin when you opened the door, stepping aside and letting him in. 

“The fucking cop?” He was itching to slap you, or maybe choke you, he was absolutely furious.

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby.” You shoved him a little and snorted when he stumbled slightly. “Drunk again. What the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me.” He was so drunk he didn’t even care anymore, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging your face to his until his lips were devouring yours.

“Jesus, did I fucking break you, Bobby?” You chuckled when he growled in response and shoved you against the wall, grinding his hardened cock into your hip as he tried to wrap his hands around your throat. “No fucking marks! God, still haven’t learned, have you?”

Your slap sent him reeling, the only thing that kept him upright being your tight grip on his collar as you watched him with mock concern. He tried to snarl at you when you gripped his jaw in one hand, shaking his head with a demeaning tut before leaning forward to bite at his lips.

“You need to dump that fucking cop, kitten.” He purred into your mouth when you wound one leg around his hip and dragged him into you, letting him rock against you slowly with a low moan as his dick twitched in his pants.

“And you still need to fucking control yourself, instead of charging over to your single neighbor’s house like a bat out of hell right after your wife’s funeral when you know every fucking busybody in the neighborhood is gonna be watching us like a bunch of hawks.” You let him lift your other leg to wrap around him, pressing you into the wall and moaning into your neck as he ground right against your clit. “I’ll make you a deal Bobby; you manage to keep that temper of yours reined in and the neighbors off our backs for a whole month while I make that sweet, dumb cop fall in love with me, and I’ll let you do whatever he does to me, so you don’t combust.”

“You’re such a bitch.” His breath against your neck was desperate, the rhythm of his hips writhing against you growing frantic as you both neared your ends. “You let him fuck you and I don’t care, kitten, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Aww, don’t worry baby, it’ll just be the tip.” You laughed when he snarled into your throat, forcing himself to pull back before he sank his teeth into you so you didn’t decide to torture him even more. “Look at you being so good, and I didn’t even mention your reward.”

“What is it?” Christ, you were just whipping men left and right today.

“Once I get that moron to give me his whole heart, I’ll let you help me break it.” He hit you at the perfect angle and you shuddered with bliss, your release soaking the front of his slacks as his own filled his briefs. “But in a way that keeps him wrapped around my little finger so we can use him if we need to.”

“Ugh, fuck. Fine.” He sighed defeatedly into your neck. “But if I haven’t had my dick sucked once by this time in two weeks, I’m getting a fucking toy.”

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 7. something important to save.

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). mature themes related to child abuse/neglect. mentions of past CSA. medical abuse. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM. somewhat evil!Tony Stark (eventually)

[Steve]

Girl’s teeth begin to chatter as we stand in front of the closed elevator doors, waiting for it to drop back down to our level. Eyeing the lit-up button on the panel in front of her, the little one tilts her head, not seeming to understand. “We’re just waiting for the elevator,” I explain, “it’ll take us up to the place where we live.”

The Avengers tower is a monster, totaling in at an impressive fifty floors, though I’ve honestly never been on most of them. We only use the top few levels; that’s where our living quarters are. We have access to a training facility, too, and Tony and Bruce have a floor designated to lab work.

“We live all the way up on the fiftieth floor!” Peter tells the little girl enthusiastically. Her eyes grow wide at his comment, and I can’t tell if she’s intrigued by it or just more anxious now than she was before.

As soon as the elevator bell rings, the large metal doors slide open in front of us, revealing the car that’s thankfully empty. We all pile in, and I take to rubbing Girl’s back gently as the doors close. Someone scans their hand and presses the button for the top floor, and I feel Girl beginning to tremble slightly against me. Looking down at her, her eyes meet mine, glittering with tears. “You’re alright, bub,” I promise her, “we won’t have to be in here for too long at all.”

As we shoot up through the shaft, the whole group is strangely quiet. After the normal two minutes or so, the bell sounds again, and the doors open. I’m the first to walk out, straight into the living area. Looking around sheepishly, the little girl in my arms seems to be fascinated by the sight before her.

“Welcome home, Girl,” Natasha says gently as she pauses beside us. The others are quick to settle themselves in; Tony, Bruce, Thor, and Clint all settle in on the large sectional in front of the television, while Wanda takes an armchair, along with Peter. The exhaustion from the mission and the travel is clear on everyone’s faces, though I’m not surprised since it tends to be like this whenever we come back from big assignments.

“You know, some of us are gonna have to go take care of the cargo we still have on the ship,” Bruce comments.

“Nose goes,” Tony says, quickly bringing his finger to his nose.

“Quit being a baby,” Nat teases back at him, “no one else is gonna-”

“I-I’m doing it, Mr. Stark,” Peter chirps up nervously, shooting up his hand to copy his mentor. As Tony gives Peter an air-five, a few of the grumpy faces around the room form into smiles.

“I can go back down. Thor, Wanda. How about you guys come too? It can’t take more than the three of us,” Clint offers.

“But I want pizza!” Thor complains, causing me to roll my eyes at the six-foot-something-man-child.

“We can order pizza while you’re down there. We’ll let you know as soon as it gets here,” I reason with him, feeling like I’m trying to sate a toddler. Sighing, the god nods, standing. Clint and Wanda rise as well, and together they head back towards the elevator. Looking down at Girl who’s still resting quietly in my arms, I ask, “You wanna find somewhere to sit in here?” The child looks around warily before dropping her gaze to the ground, clearly not knowing what to say. I offer her a kind smile and glance around as well, trying to see if there’s anywhere that might be nice for her to settle in.

“I had Peter and Wanda fix up the spare room at the end of the hallway,” Tony says to me, and I give him a nod. “Obviously we can, um… decorate, and stuff, too. I just figured we would want to have the basics covered.”

“We should probably get her in a bed,” Bruce adds. “We can bring her down to medbay, or I guess we could probably accommodate her in the room Peter and Wanda worked on, too.”

“The latter sounds like a better idea,” I decide, not wanting her to become frightened by being brought into a place that looks like what Hydra might have had in their labs.

“Sure. Why don’t you bring her down there, and I’ll grab some stuff from downstairs for monitoring her,” Bruce agrees, rising to his feet. I nod, offering a small wave to everyone in the room before walking over to the archway that leads to the hall.

“This is where all of our rooms are,” I tell her as we walk down the long hallway. When we finally reach the end, I point to the door that’s cracked slightly open. “This was our spare room. But now it belongs to you,” I explain. “This one next to it is mine. And the one here, across from it, is Tony’s.” She nods as I point, seeming perplexed.

Reaching out, I swing the door open, revealing the simple bedroom. It’s got nothing more than the basics, but it’s definitely an upgrade from what the poor thing had in Hydra’s care. There’s a real bed, with big fluffy pillows and light yellow blankets. There are a nightstand and a dresser as well, along with a small desk by the window. There are two doors, one on either side of the bed. One leads to a bathroom, the other to a closet. I notice that the bed itself is new. There used to be just a queen-sized mattress on the floor, but it’s now been replaced by a much more appropriate twin-sized bed, complete with a bed frame, sheets, pillows, and blankets. On the desk, there are some books, and a new lamp has been placed on the nightstand.

Looking around, Girl seems to be completely taken aback by what she sees. “This is your room, Girl. What do you think?” I ask as I carry her over to the bed, pulling back the blankets and setting her down on the soft mattress. As gently as I can, I lift the covers back up and tuck them in just below her arms, letting them rest on top of the pastel yellow. The child looks at me with wide eyes as I take a seat next to her on the mattress, smiling at her. “This’ll be a much nicer place for you to live, don’t you think?” Clearly at a loss for words, Girl simply nods.

Soon, there’s a knock on the door, followed by it swinging back open to reveal Bruce who’s brought a metal cart along with him equipped various medical supplies. Girl lets out a soft whimper and cowers noticeably, causing Bruce’s expression to soften almost immediately. “Hey, I’ve got some things we can use for stabilization,” he tells us, rolling the cart over to the side of the bed. Pulling out a strange wire contraption, the doctor hooks it over the headboard of the bed, grabbing a bag of fluids and twisting it into place. As she watches him attach the tubing to the bag and prepare the needle, Girl’s big eyes fill with tears.

But just as I’m about to offer her some words of comfort, the door swings open yet again to reveal Peter, carrying a whole bunch of stuffed animals in a big cloth sack. I smile warmly at him as he enters the room, barely able to see us above all the little plushies he’s got in his arms. “Hey guys!” he greets happily, “I brought some stuffed animals for you, Girl! I didn’t know which would be your favorite, so I sort of just brought the whole bag!” Walking over, he swings the bag up onto the bed beyond Girl’s feet. I look back to see that the child is now fixated on the sack, peering curiously over at it.

“Do you have a favorite animal, sweetheart?” I ask her, wondering if she would even know many varieties of animals at all. She frowns slightly, only offering a silent shrug.

“Well lucky for you, I have a whole bunch of different kinds!” Peter says happily, walking around the bed and sitting on the other edge across from me. Reaching in, the teen begins to pull some out, one at a time. “Here’s a lion, and a dog, and a hippo, and a bunny, and oh, here’s a teddy bear,” he says. At his words, Girl’s eyes lock on the bear and Peter senses her interest, gently handing it over to her. She flinches, but takes it anyway, holding it out in front of her by its arms and looking at it carefully. “He’s a really soft one, too. You can have him, if you like. I bet he would love to be friends with you.”

But as Peter rambles on, I can tell that the child before us isn’t even listening to what he’s saying. As she stares at the bear with such intense longing, so strong that it almost hurts to watch, Girl’s head tilts slightly, her bottom lip falling open. It’s incredibly heartbreaking and humbling to see, such an innocent creature being given one of the many simple yet important things she was deprived of all her life. Slowly, she brings the bear in close to her, pressing her face up against its light brown tummy. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath in through her nose. Looking to both sides, I see that both Bruce and Peter have stopped what they were doing just to witness the little girl receiving the comfort of the bear as well.

After several more inhales into the bear’s stomach, Girl lowers it gently into her lap, holding onto it for dear life. She then looks up at Peter, and I can tell that she’s too frightened to speak, but the look in her eyes says “thank you”, and Peter understands, smiling at her brightly.

“Alright kiddo, we gotta get you back onto the fluid cycle,” Bruce’s soft voice cuts through the peaceful silence softly. To my disappointment, the calmness falls from her face immediately, her body cowers away from him, shaking.

“Hey, it won’t hurt you, remember?” I remind her, reaching out and tucking a section of hair behind her ear that’s fallen into her face.

“No poke, please no poke,” the poor thing whimpers, tears streaming down her cheeks before I can do anything more to stop them.

“Oh no- hey, i-it’s okay, Girl,” Peter intervenes quickly, clearly upset by the sight of his new friend crying. “I-I don’t like needles either, but Bruce is really good at them, and it’ll barely last a moment!”

Taking the girl’s little arm in his hand, Bruce wipes the underside of her wrist with an alcohol pad, and causing her breathing to become rapid. “I promise it’ll be real quick,” the man says says, his guilt written all over his face. Popping the cap off, he holds her arm still as she closes her eyes, her body curling up slightly. “Three, two, one, there.” Girl whimpers loudly when the needle is inserted, but Bruce quickly positions the catheter in her vein and pulls the needle back out, securing the tubing down and beginning the drip.

“See, sweetheart? That wasn’t so bad,” I try to soothe the little one gently, but she only frowns at me in response, looking down at her arm sadly.

Before anything more can be said, a knock on the door causes all of us to look up. As it opens slowly, Tony walks in slowly, looking like he’s worried he might be interrupting something. “Hey guys, the pizza’s on its way. Think I could talk with Spangles and Girl for a moment?” he asks.

“Alright, I just set her back up on fluids so she should be fine for now. I’ll come back in and take her vitals when you guys are done, or after dinner,” Bruce agrees. Peter stands, and the two of them make their way out of the room without another word. Nodding, Tony closes the door behind them, walking over and taking a seat where Peter was.

“Hey there, how’re you feeling?” he asks the little girl. Girl looks down at her hands, not saying anything. Sighing, I can tell that she’s still pretty scared of everyone. But she seems to be specifically wary of Tony, along with Thor, and maybe even Clint. “Looks like Peter brought you some friends! That’s fun; who’ve you got there?”

At the man’s question, Girl clings the bear closer to her body, looking up at Tony with watery eyes. His face drops instantly as she begins to beg, “Please don’t take it, p-please don’t.”

“Of course I won’t,” he tells her gently, shaking his head., “you can keep him. He seems pretty happy with you- hey. Oh, don’t cry,” he tries quickly, but he’s too late; the tears are now falling freely down Girl’s cheeks, her head lowered, little droplets falling into her lap. “Oh honey, I’m sorry. I won’t take your bear; I promise I won’t.” As I watch the heartbreaking scene play out before me, I realize that I’ve never seen Tony Stark looking this sad in my entire life.

“Does your little bear have a name?” I ask the small girl softly, hoping to change the focus slightly to something more positive.

Girl’s eyes flicker up at me, her mouth remaining closed as she fails to come up with an answer.. “I named my bear Teddy when I was little,” Tony says, catching onto my strategy. “Not too original of a name, but it fit nicely.”

“T-Teddy,” Girl repeats softly, causing Tony to smile at her with a nod.

“Yep, Teddy,” he breathes. “They’re called Teddy Bears, you know. I think they’re named after a president or something. But anyway, that’s why I named him Teddy. It’s a cute name, too. Very simple.”

“Teddy,” Girl says again, looking to her bear, then back up at us. Nodding, I offer her a warm smile.

“I think that’s a wonderful name,” I tell her. Seeming content with the decision, the child smiles a bit back at me.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Tony speaks up again. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you guys about that thing I was working on earlier, you know- the thing Clint was ‘supervising.’” I nod, though Girl doesn’t seem to be catching on quite yet. “So, Girl, because you’re transitioning into being an American citizen, you have to have some people commit to looking after and caring for you. I talked with Child Services, and they said that if you stay here, you’ll need at least one legal guardian to claim you as their dependent, though their recommendation was that you have at least two. Cap, I just assumed naturally that you would be the first. You seem to have the closest bond to her.”

I nod, not taking even a moment to think twice about the decision. There’s no need for me to. I’ve already made my choice; I made as soon as those big green eyes met mine for the first time all the way back in Seoul and I realized the poor thing had no other person on the planet to call her own.

“And I… I know that this might sound crazy, but I talked with the others about it, and I think… I think I want to sign as the second one.”

I look at him, blinking.

Tony Stark? Wants to claim legal guardianship? Of a five year old little girl?

The first thing that comes to my mind is that, why yes. That does sound crazy. Not crazy, even. No. It’s much more than that. It’s just absolutely absurd.

But after the shock, my mind clears, and I think back to the look on his face when he first met Girl. And the way he was so heartbroken on the ship when she first was brought into the infirmary. And the way he looked so lovingly at her, the way he seemed absolutely destroyed when she got scared he would take away her bear. And I realize that though I never would have thought he would have the capacity to, Tony already seems to feel the same love and protectiveness over Girl as I do.

Taking a deep breath, I look into my friend’s eyes. “I think… there’s no one I’d rather do the job with,” I say finally. Tony’s expression fills with gratitude, and he smiles at me, a real, genuine smile, before turning back to Girl.

“What do you think?” he asks her.

Looking back and forth between the two of us a few times, Girl’s eyebrows furrow, and I can tell that she doesn’t quite understand everything that’s been presented to her.

“How do you feel about living here with us, Girl,” I ask her, “about having me and Tony to look after you?”

Taking another look at each of us, the little girl gulps. “S-scary,” she whimpers after a few moments, and my heart sinks. Looking over, I see that Tony’s absolutely crushed as well, but I have to remind myself that anyone offering to take her in would be terrifying.

“I know, sweetie, but I promise, it’ll get less scary over time. You can have a brand new life here, Girl. We just wanna give you a safe home, a-”

“A family,” Tony finishes for me.

“Not hurt Girl?” the child asks skeptically.

“Never, we would never hurt you,” I tell her.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again, Girl. Not if we have any say in it,” Tony adds.

“Don’t shift Girl, please don’t.”

“No, we won’t do that, either,” Tony says. “Your powers are something that none of us truly understand, but we aren’t going to do what Hydra did to you. No one wants to hurt you here, kiddo. This is a safe place.”

Reaching out, Tony tries to touch the girl’s cheek, but she instinctively cowers, raising an arm above her head to shield her face. The devastation is clear as day on Tony’s face as she pleads weakly, “Don’t hit Girl, please don’t-”

“Hey, hey, easy,” the flustered man coos, setting a gentle hand on her arm, causing her to flinch. “It’s okay, Girl. You don’t have to hide. I’m not going to hit you; we don’t hit people here.”

“Honey, can you listen for a moment?” I try to reason. “I know this is scary for you, sweetheart, but please. Give us a chance. We only want what’s best for you, and this is the safest place in the world you could possibly be. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay, really. We understand. Just please, please. Let us help you,” I beg.

Lowering her arms slowly, Girl looks at me with doubt in her eyes. But deep beneath the uncertainty, I can just barely pick out tiny glimmers of yearning. Longing. Hope. She opens her mouth to talk, but says nothing. After a few moments of silence, the little one just nods. Sighing in relief, I look her in the eyes.

“This is going to be a change for all of us, doll. We’ll go slow, make sure everything feels comfortable and safe, alright?” I promise her.

“We’re the Avengers,” Tony says with a small smile. “How hard could this possibly be? We save the world for a living.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, reaching out and brushing Girl’s rosy cheek as she sits before me. “But now, we have something even more important to save.”

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[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish. 

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything. 

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge. 

“Yes, darling?” 

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.” 

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected. 

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself. 

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?” 

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

-

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day. 

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.” 

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them.  “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment. 

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive. 

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands. 

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him. 

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to  let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.”  He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.” 

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting. 

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too. 

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his. 

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured. 

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin. 

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. 

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste. 

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him. 

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed. 

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?” 

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind. 

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.  

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place. 

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers. 

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully. 

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage. 

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.” 

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him. 

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty. 

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.” 

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw. 

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips. 

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach.  Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation. 

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you. 

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep. 

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