#you wouldn't ask for a wooden bar
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#*headdesk*#lol#why#why do the lay people call it 'balance bar'????#can a non-gymnast please tell me lol#i have never understood this#it doesn't look like a bar#if you were to go to the hardware store#you wouldn't ask for a wooden bar#you'd ask for a wooden BEAM#(and that's exactly what is used to be. a 4" wide wooden beam with little leggies to make it ~4ft tall)#i mean. you could ask for a wooden bar. but you wouldn't get what everyone is talking about when they're referencing balance beams...#okay i'm rambling now#comics#dc comics
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waking up in simon's riley bed, a one time meeting with a stranger in a bar that ended with a sex, a one time thing, after which you usually leave, but this morning is different in many ways from past similar situations, the absence of a man's body on your side, not even a note, an empty, wide bedroom without your belongings that you can't find anywhere, not even your underwear.
with your body aching, from the engraved imprints of his fingers on your skin, the ravenous dents his teeth's left, on the delicate curve of your neck, blossoming with freshly made bruises his mouth made, between your supple thighs, where everything strains at your little, stiff movements, muscles sore and your pussy swollen from being ravaged till the last drop.
you're too far deep in your thoughts, in the clouding confusion of where your things gone, that you don't notice the muffled wooden thud of the kitchen's cupboard outside the bedroom, before the door flings open, making you freeze in the middle of a room as bare as you are, meeting the dark pools of eyes in front of you, framed by the quiver of pale eyelashes.
he's a pretty man, under tawny eyes smudged violet, sunken into his skin all together, tuts of cropped hair still tousled after the sleep, sticking into different directions to meet the pale, filtering glow of sunshine from the window, and you only notice that he studies you as well when you meet his sunlighted gaze again, naked body shuddering from the depths of the rotting hunger you see there, the one that stretches it's feelers towards you.
simon croons hoarsely, about what a pretty sight you are, much more timid than the night before, and you see the scorching, crescent marks of your nails along the scarred expanse of his cast muscled chest, feel yourself grow more shy, the rising warmth of flush along your body, speckling with goosebumps, as he crosses the distance between you two in what seems like two steps.
you know you need to leave, ask him for your clothes, maybe tell that you're sorry, but there's nothing more to await, but his trained eyes burn a path up and down your legs, where your thighs meet together when you feel something leak out, oozing in glistening streaks down your skin, his fingers swooping down to collect the pearly drops, before smudging them against your puffy folds, meeting your hiccuping gasp with a low growl of his own.
his cum, he shoves it back in your already fluttering hole, embarrassingly wet, warm as you clench instinctively around the intrusioning, thick digits, your hands clawing their way up to grasp at his wide shoulders, sinking in the pale skin, knocking your forehead against his chest, before simon moves his hand away, fingers pulling out from your loose hole, smeared wet, as he scoops you up.
still naked, with your pussy now throbbing from the stretch, making your senses frizz at the ends, he cradles you against his burly form and carries you out of the room, there's an appetizing aromas wafting through the air, luring you into the kitchen he carries you in, where a fresh, hearty breakfast is already served on the dining table, waiting only for you, as simon settles you on the high stool.
in front of the filled plate and with a wet kiss pressed at your neck, he brings you closer to the table, plopping beside with a subtle squeeze at the curve of your waist, hands greedy, as he urges you to eat, as if you pick up your fork now and let yourself sink into this strange, morning routine, you wouldn't be able to leave anymore, and that's been simon's plan since that night at the bar.
main masterlist. quidelines.
#.𐙚july's writings#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley comfort#simon riley x female reader#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley comfort#simon riley x you#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley#ghost x f!reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon riley drabble#simon ghost riley drabble#ghost thoughts#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon riley headcanons
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take two
you weren’t expecting to see him again, but here he is. jake’s back, and with him comes everything you’ve been trying to move on from. so, what now?
PAIRING : ex!jake x y/n
GENRE : second chance love, ex's to lovers, smut, angst. bathroom sex, choking + hair pulling :D
WC : like 7k?
MDNI
your coworkers convinced you to go out with them after work. it is friday, after all, so you thought it would be a good start to your weekend after a long week of work.
across the street from your workplace is a bar that your coworkers and other workers nearby visit regularly. it's not too small and not too big, but on weekends, it's particularly busy. there are some booths that align the edges of the place, a counter area to order drinks, and a pretty large dance floor.
your coworkers and you snag a booth in the far corner.
your nails tap against the scratched wooden table as your coworkers look at the menu, thinking about ordering an appetizer for you all to share. to be honest, you aren't really hungry, and you are getting tired of them arguing about what to order.
"i'm just going to the bar to get a drink," you inform them, causing them to glance up at you.
"oh, can you get me a beer, y/n?" lila asks, her eyes lighting up.
"can you get me one, too?" daisy adds hopefully.
"why don't you just get us a jug of beer to share, y/n?" serena suggests instead.
"yeah! that would be better!" lila nods, her smile taking up her entire pretty face. daisy nods in agreement, looking between the two at the table and you.
"uh, yeah, okay! no problem!" you agree with your coworkers and turn towards the bar.
you sigh to yourself as you ask the bartender for a jug of beer and slide him $30 across the counter. you don't like beer, but you've just started working at this company and quickly realized how cliquey it is. the girls you came with tonight are more popular at your work. they're pretty and good at their jobs. you were shocked when they invited you to go out with them tonight.
since you're new at your job and don't know anyone properly yet, you decide to go out with these girls, even if they aren't your usual friend type. that's why you're ordering beer instead of your normal drink. you're used to trying to fit in with other groups and surrendering your authentic self, though you thought you wouldn't have to once you graduated college.
the bartender places a jug of beer on the counter; you reach for it simultaneously with someone else—your hand brushes against the stranger's hand on the jug's handle. you pull back quickly and start to apologize, "oh, i'm so sorry i thought that was mi-," the words die on your tongue.
"y/n?"
the way he says your name is too familiar for your liking. you've heard him say it many times before and never thought you would hear it again.
"jake?" you respond, and as you do, you realize it's the first time you've said his name out loud in years.
jake looks the same but different all at once. his features are more mature than they were in freshman year, and his hair is longer. his chest is more built, and you can't help but notice how the shirt he's wearing is so snug against his arms, which are bigger than you remembered. his eyes are more tired and sunken than they were those years ago.
"yeah, it's been a while." he speaks awkwardly, but he doesn't make a move to escape.
his words force you to think back about when you last saw him, the pain of that memory is suppressed but still somehow fresh. you remember the both of you yelling and crying and him leaving your dorm room for the last time by slamming the door behind him.
jake was your first boyfriend.
you met in your first year of college, and within a week, you were dating. the first half of your relationship was perfect. if only it could have stayed that way.
before the beginning of the sophomore year had even started, your relationship with jake sim had faltered. you think it was both of your faults as to why it ended. he began to get more popular and wanted to go out and neglected your needs for his social life, and you started to get more self-conscious and insecure.
it wasn’t long after your breakup that jake sim had disappeared.
you hadn’t even known he left until your mutual friends and acquaintances had started asking you where he went. but you were as shocked as they were.
you aren’t sure where he went, but you knew for a fact that he had dropped out of your university. there was a few rumours about where he had gone, like to france to learn french or that he went back to australia because his family had gone bankrupt.
you (and probably everyone else he ever knew) checked his social media daily to see if he changed anything or posted anything. he never posted on his snapchat again, didn’t retweet a stupid meme on twitter (i will never call it X). his instagram only had one small change suddenly, a few months after he had left. the first letter of your name that was in his instagram bio had been deleted.
you remember the feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach when you pressed his username in your recent searches, thinking that nothing would have changed, that his instagram would still look like he was forever stuck in the past. but the first thing you noticed when it slid onto his account was your initial gone. it comforted you but devastated you at the same time.
on one hand, he was at least alive and safe if he was editing his insta bio, and on the other hand, he really had moved on from you.
after he removed your initial you stopped checking all of his social media. at some point, he had deleted his instagram completely, but you weren’t shocked by that as much.
you had thought you would never see jake sim ever, again and that you could move on with your life.
but that didn't last long since he's standing directly in front of you right now.
he continues with your lack of response, "you look good, though, y/n."
you glance down at your work attire, just some dress pants and a blouse, "thanks, i'm just here after work."
"oh, where do you work?"
"uh, across the street, at the law firm, across the street."
his eyes light up at the information, "oh my god, you always wanted to work there! that's great!"
you smile painfully at his remembering of what you wanted to do after college. your gaze softening with a sadness you couldn’t quite hide. it was like you’re scared that if you blink he’d disappear again.
"what?" he asks you with a curious smile, obviously picking up on your expression.
"sorry," you shook your head to come back to reality, "i just… i never thought i’d see you again."
jake’s laugh was quick and full, like how you remembered it, “yeah, me neither to be honest.
your head tilted slightly, yourbrows knitting together. "where did you go, anyways? like, when you dropped out?"
his smile faltered at that, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to notice. there was a hesitation in his eyes, his mouth opening like he was searching for the right words to be able to explain himself.
but before he could speak, "here's your beer, miss." the bartender places another jug of beer beside jake's. you thank him before he moves on to the other customers, demanding his attention.
you glance back at jake, "i've got to get back to my coworkers…"
jake nods, and you can sense some disappointment in him, "right, i guess uh, i'll see you around maybe."
"yeah, maybe."
"it was nice seeing you, though. have fun with your coworkers."
you offer him a faint smile, "it was nice seeing you too; bye, jake."
you turn on your heel and start to walk back to your table. you feel like the blood has entirely left your body as your heart quickens. you can't believe you just saw your ex after all these years. you realize how fresh the pain is still.
you place the jug of beer on the table, and the other girls barely speak to you as they cheer for the alcohol and pour it into their cups.
for the rest of the night, you force yourself to sit there, listening to lila complain about the girl in the cubicle beside her, serena whining about how your boss has been avoiding her since their most recent hookup, and daisy hating the way the other girls in the office dress.
you try to focus on their conversations, but it feels draining. you wonder how you got yourself in this position.
you thought your life would be so different after college—that you'd actually enjoy life. but you're starting to think it's all the same no matter where you are. you're holding a cup of a drink that you don't even like and pretending to fit in with these coworkers that you really don't like.
in the same bar, there's jake sim, your ex-boyfriend of all people. you can't help but wonder how he's genuinely been and what he's been up to now.
it's a thought that keeps you up at night every few months: what would have happened if you had stayed together during college if you hadn't let your insecurities get the best of you, if you had gone out with him to those parties he was always going to?
before you can stop yourself, your gaze shifts across the room. there he is. jake is sitting at a table with a few friends, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he listens to someone speak. your heart clenches as his eyes suddenly lift, locking onto yours through the crowded bar.
the noise around you silences. his gaze feels heavier than it should—like he's reading every thought you've buried, every emotion you swore you'd moved past. you want to look away, pretend that you don't see him, but you can't. his eyes are prettier than you remembered.
just as your thoughts start spiraling, a waitress steps in front of his table, breaking eye contact. it's enough to jolt you back to reality, enough to remind you of where you are and who you're supposed to be now.
"i think i'm gonna head home," you tell your coworkers, forcing a weak smile as you grab your bag.
they barely notice as you slip away, the bar noise fading behind you as you step outside.
every step you take home leads to a new memory you've suppressed about jake. like when he used to hum his favorite song as he drove, how he pulled his jacket off and covered your head with it from the sudden rain one night, and the memory of how his voice sounded so deep and raspy in the morning as he begged you to stay "just a little longer" in bed.
how could jake still affect you after all these years?
you wipe the tear falling down your cheek.
you spent the rest of the weekend wondering why you had the worst luck. you could’ve run into anyone you’ve ever met, but it just had to be jake sim.
your break up with jake was hard on you. he was the first boy you ever loved. sometimes you wondered if he would be the only boy you’ll ever love.
since jake, you’ve gone on a few dates with other boys; some you’ve met on shitty dating apps and others your friends had set you up with. most of them never went to a second date and the rest didn’t last more than a year.
it was starting to frustrate you and you were beginning to think you’d be single forever.
your friends asked you what was wrong with all the boys you’ve dated, and you could never tell them a straightforward answer. you felt like you were looking for something in each of them that they never had. sometimes your mind would tell you that you’re looking for jake within them, but you never let yourself ponder on that thought for long.
when monday rolled around again, you realize you spent the entire weekend holed up in your apartment with thoughts of jake sim taking up your entire mind. you tell yourself that the past 48 hours was the final time you’d ever think about him and you went to work.
you are kind of proud of yourself for not thinking too much about jake sim all week.
everytime your ex boyfriend would seep into your mind, you reminded yourself to not think about him. there is no good about thinking about all the what if’s that surround him and your relationship. that your history with jake sim is done, and you’ll never see him again.
this friday night, you aren’t spending it in a corner of a bar with your coworkers that you mildly hate, but spending it in a corner of a bar with your college friends for one of their birthdays.
you had met the birthday girl, aeri, during your freshman year of college and she had easily become one of your best friends. even after college aeri and you have made sure to remain close, despite both of you working a lot of longer hours now.
you show up at the bar she had texted you the address to earlier on time, wearing a short black dress that you always wanted to wear but never a reason to. you’re quick to spot your friend group in the bar. they were loud and already filling up two tables pushed together.
“oh my god! y/n!” aeri suddenly squeals as she sees you over the many heads of your friends.
the whole group turns at your name and you’re suddenly being pulled into many hugs as you greet all your friends. some of them you haven’t seen since graduation, but others you’ve seen last week.
“happy birthday, aeri,” you greet your best friend finally, handing her her gift in a pink bag.
“aw, thank you so much, y/n!” she pulls you into a tight hug, your chin squeezed against her shoulder and neck.
“it’s no problem! i hope you like it!”
“oh, you know i will.” aeri moves her hand dismissively, but then her eyes suddenly light up. “oh my god, y/n, wait, guess who showed up!”
you tilt your head curiously, “who?”
“jake!”
his name makes your blood run cold and your body heat up at the same time. you follow with your eyes where your best friend's finger is pointing, and sure enough, jake sim is sitting at the table.
unlike last week, jake’s hair is pushed back neatly and he’s wearing an all black suit, he looks more put together. it makes your heart stop for a minute as you take in his appearance. his chocolate brown eyes are looking back at you with a sheepish smile on his face.
“isn’t it great y/n? he’s back!” aeri continues, not being able to contain her own excitement for her old friend returning.
“uh, yeah, it is.” you nod, not being able to form any other words.
some servers suddenly approach the table with some drinks, distracting everyone, so you take your chance to sit down at the only empty chair at the table. which just so happens to be across from jake.
you curse yourself for taking so long to pick an outfit out, you could’ve been here earlier and not forced to sit directly looking at your ex.
thankfully, sora is sitting beside you, she’s the sweetest girl you’ve ever met. you met her during your final years at college, though you wish you could’ve met her much sooner. she always knows how to cheer you up.
“hi, y/n! i love your dress.” sora greets you, her lovely smile already on her pretty face.
“thanks sora, i love your dress too, it’s super pretty!”
she thanks you before she takes a sip of her drink, “so you were friend’s with jake too, then?”
dammit sora.
your wide eyes meet jakes wide ones across the table. both of you look at each other and then at sora. since sora had joined your friend group later on, she never got to meet jake. maybe she’s heard some stories about him, but that’s all she would’ve known about your ex.
“uh yeah, we were.” jake speaks for you, keeping his voice so calm compared to how you were feeling inside.
from down the table you hear aeri scoff, “please sora, they weren’t just friends.” everyone turns to look at aeri, who bless her heart, is already wasted, “they dated!”
your stomach drops further at your best friend reminding everyone about your past relationship with jake. the table laughs as you see everyone remembering. you stare down at your lap, wishing you could disappear.
“yeah, sora,” you hear your friend heeseung speak from down the table, “jake and y/n use to be like attached at the hip.”
sunghoon, who’s sitting beside heeseung chimes in with a teasing smile, “jake and i use to live together in freshman year. it was like y/n was our third roommate. i remember us joking about her having to start paying rent she was there so often!”
the laughter around the table is lighthearted, with everyone remembering freshman year. but you leave your gaze fixated on your lap. you glance up at jake quickly, wanting to see if he’s just as awkward and embarrassed as you are, but of course he’s not.
jake is calm and seems completely nonchalant about the whole thing.
before you could spiral further, the servers return with plates of food for everyone. the conversation shifts as everyone starts to prepare to eat, mumbling about how hungry they are.
sora leans toward you, her expression apologetic as she whispers to you, “i’m so sorry about that y/n. i should’ve been quieter or something.”
you shake your head, giving her a small smile. “it’s no problem sora. it’s okay— you didn’t know.”
from down the table, aeri’s voice cuts through, “more shots!” she yells, raising her glass high. you realize she must be really going full out for her birthday this year.
suddenly, you feel something brush against your calf. the gentle but purposefully movement makes you jump slightly. your eyes dart across the table, meeting jake’s calm gaze. his leg is the one stretched out under the table with his foot gently rubbing yours. you can tell that the look in his eyes is asking if you’re okay. it makes your chest tighten.
you can’t hold his gaze for long.
you take the chance to excuse yourself. “i’m going to the bathroom,” you murmur quietly to sora, who nods in understanding. you can tell she still feels bad for triggering the jake conversation.
you leave the table quickly, making a beeline straight for the hallway that leads to the bathroom. when you reach the door though, it’s locked.
“great,” you sigh to yourself and spin to lean against the wall, it’s cold against your warm skin.
you close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. everytime you think you’ll never see jake sim again, you’re always proven wrong. and now, he’s back with your friend group, so you’ll have to see him even more often. you don’t know if you can do it. you think about going home early. aeri is too drunk to notice if you disappear before her fourth round of shots.
another person walks in the tight, dark hallway to the bathrooms which makes you glance up and realize it’s jake.
he stops in front of you, “are you okay?”
“yeah, just someones in there,” you nod towards the closed bathroom door, “so i’m waiting.”
jake nods as his mouth forms an “O” in understanding. he leans back against the opposite wall of you, so you’re both facing each other.
now, in the dark, you recognize how much his facial features have matured since you last saw him. he’s not boyish and silly like he used to be when you dated. jake looks more serious and stoic and you wonder if you would even know parts of him anymore.
“why are you acting like nothing happened between us?” jake suddenly asks you.
it takes you by surprise, how blunt his question is. you try to remember if jake was this blunt when you dated.
“what do you mean?”
jake pushes off the wall behind him and he steps towards you, closing the distance in the small hallway. his movements have your pulse racing. his frame is enclosing you against the wall, he leans one of his hands against the wall beside your head.
“you know what i mean, y/n.” jake’s voice is low as he speaks. he looks down at you, right into your eyes. you feel your knees buckle. “you’re sitting there, acting like we’re strangers or something. like none of it mattered. like i didn’t matter to you.”
your whole body feels like its on fire. your fingers grip the hem of your dress, trying to keep you present and upright against the wall behind you.
“jake,” you whisper, trying to tell him anything. but the intensity in his eyes and how close his body is to yours make it hard to think straight.
“just tell me, y/n,” jake says slowly, his free hand brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, making your breath hitch at his touch that you haven’t felt in years, “is this really how you want it to be between us?”
his words hang in the air. the tension between you is so thick in this small hallway that it feels almost suffocating. his hand lingers on your cheek. the touch of his fingers makes your brain fuzzy. you want to respond to him, saying something or anything to him, but you can’t focus on anything but how close he is to you. how familiar his touch is.
“tell me you don’t feel it anymore.” jake tells you, his breath warm against your skin. his fingers fall to your jaw, titling your face up so you’re forced to look directly at him. you feel hyper-aware of the fact that his lips are just a mere inch away from yours.
“f-feel what?”
the bathroom door opens right beside your head, the light from inside brightens the hallway. you both freeze as you look at a girl you don’t recognize step out of the bathroom. her eyes widen slightly as the light behind her exposes both of you pressed up against the wall. her face is contorted as he awkwardly walks around you and back to the bar.
before you can say anything, jake is pushing you into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it with both of you inside.
jake doesn’t give you a second to breathe, he’s pushing you up against the sink’s counter, your hips pushed against the ledge.
“the neediness y/n,” jake answers your question from the hall, “you used to be so needy for me. you used to make me make you cum at least twice before we could even leave the house. do you remember that, y/n?”
his words make you gasp, the memories of all the times jake has made you orgasm come flooding into your mind. no one’s ever known your body as well as jake has. no one’s ever been attentive as him. with all the boring dates you’ve been on through the years, the sex was just as boring.
“do you want me to remind you why you were so needy for me, baby?”
“please,” you whine out, suddenly caving into your desires, to your neediness.
within seconds jake is lifting you up onto the bathroom counter behind you, your back pressed up against the cool mirror. his hands don’t hesitate to roam your body, feeling your body again, like he once did all the those years ago. you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you’re quickly remembering how easily his touch affects you.
“did you miss my touch, baby?” jake whispers, his hot breath fanning your neck. it sends goosebumps across your skin. his lips start to trail down your neck, kissing the skin there so softly, teasing. his hands are the complete contrast to his lips, they’re rough like they own you.
even after all these years, it still seems like jake knows exactly how to tease you and touch you. it feels as if there was no time gap between then and now.
jake’s fingers start trailing up your bare thighs, so gently and warm, “you missed the way i make you feel? the way i make you cum?” his words further light the fire within you. you nod against the mirror behind you, watching as he stands between your legs, his fingers finding the already damp fabric of your panties.
jake hooks his fingers under the elastic and pulls them down, leaving your bottom half completely exposed to his eyes. the sudden rush of cool air on your core makes you gasp. but jake wastes no time and slides two fingers inside your wet folds, eliciting a soft cry from your lips at the feeling of being stuffed.
“you’re so fucking wet baby,” he growls, his fingers starting to push in and out of your hole. he curls them in just the right way that has you moaning already. he knows your body already, he doesn’t need to probe around to find that one spot that has you writhing in pleasure. he knows what makes you weak. “do you want me to fuck you right here? in this bathroom with all of our friends outside waiting for us?”
you can only nod, your breath coming in shallow gasps as his fingers still fuck into you. he leans directly over over pussy, allowing a string of spit to fall from lips and right onto your core, mixing with your juices all over his fingers. the sounds emanating from your pussy fill the bathroom. the slick noise jake’s fingers slicking against your juices mingle with your moans.
jake adds a third finger, stretching you, filling you. its the most full you’ve been in years. the sensation is addicting.
“tell me you missed me, baby.” jake demands, his fingers twisting and thrusting inside of you. “tell me you’ve been thinking about my touch— my cock pounding into you.” his words are even more addicting as you’re forced to listen to him in your ear. you whimper out in response, trying to keep your eyes open to watch him, to watch his fingers sink into your wet core over and over again.
“say it,” he insists, his fingers slowing their pace, teasing you. “say you need my cock, that you want me to remind you why you loved my cock so much.” his free hand reaches up, gripping your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your thoughts swirl. the choke sends a rush of adrenaline through your body, heightening your senses. you feel so submissive to him that it only fuels your desire for him.
“i, i need it!” you manage to croak out, your voice so hoarse. “please fuck me, jake, please.”
your words make him release your neck, and instead he grabs your hair. the pain feels good as it mixes with the pleasure his fingers are giving you.
with both of his hands busy and your hips bucking off the counter and legs squeezing around jake’s wrist, jake’s access to your sweet spot inside of your pussy was disrupted.
“hold your legs open for me,” jake tells you. your hands reach around to hook underneath your knees to spread yourself bare for him. “good girl.”
you whimper at the name. jake keeps your head pinned back against the mirror and keeps his other hand delved deep inside your pussy as he curls and swirls his fingers around your g spot, stretching you.
you felt so dirty— fucking your ex in a bathroom with your friends all outside waiting for you. you’re bare on the sink counter and holding your own legs open, spreading yourself for your ex.
“f-fuck!” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he finger fucks you. everytime his fingers enter you you feel closer and closer to the edge— you can practically taste your orgasm. “i want your cock so bad! i need it, please!”
jake groans, he swears he feels his cock twitch in his pants at how needy your voice sounded, “fuck, you know how much i love hearing you beg. i can’t say no to it,” jake then takes his fingers out of you, chuckling at your whine and the way your pussy tries to clamp around them, wanting them to stay inside.
he leaves you panting and writhing on the counter as he starts to unbuckle his pants and pull his hard cock out. the sight of you with your hair messy from his hand pulling it and your pupils blown out makes his cock drip more with precum.
you spread your legs again for him to stand in between them. his large, hard cock only inches away from sliding into your pussy. he leans between your bodies again, letting spit drip from his mouth and land right on his cock. you forgot how much jake loves to make it as messy as possible.
jake presses his cock against your throbbing clit. it makes your squirm as it rubs up and down your wet folds, collecting more of your juices and his spit. you whine out into the bar’s bathroom as he teases you. your hips try to grind against his cock that is vertical with your slit as he rubs it up and down. you really are so desparate and so needy, especially for jake’s cock.
you’re getting tired of his teasing and smirking as he watches you try to grind yourself onto his cock. “jake, please fuck me already!” you urge him to take you then and there.
“someone’s impatient,” jake continues smirking. before you could complain further, jake thrusts forward, filling your wet pussy in one swift motion. you instantly cry out, throwing your head back against the mirror behind you.
the feeling of finally being stuffed full satisfies and overwhelms you at once. but, jake holds himself still for a moment, with his cock fully lodged inside of you, letting you adjust. he doesn’t pull out until you nod at him that it was okay to start.
his first thrust back in is rough and hard. the force of his hips meeting yours makes your entire body jerk against the bathroom counter. the mirror behind you holds you in place for his harsh thrusting. jake’s hands are holding your legs tight as he begins to fuck in and out of you.
the sound of the wetness from your juices and his saliva fill the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin. jake’s grunts are low and his face is already contorted into pleasure as he focuses on fucking his cock deep inside of you.
“fuck you’re such a good girl, taking all of my cock like this,” jake groans out, his pace becoming relentless and wild as he fucks you on the counter. “you’re gonna cum all over my cock right? show me how needy you are— how much you need to cum on my cock?”
“oh fuck yes!” you cry out, your legs wrapping around his waist tighter, latching onto him, “please fuck don’t stop!”
yor nails dig into his shoulders through his black shirt. jake reaches between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and starts to circle it the way he knows you like it.
jake seemingly knows everything about your body, even more than you do. you swear he makes you cum than you can make yourself cum. nothing feels as good as jake— that’s all you can think about as he is pounding into you.
suddenly, jake pulls out of you completely and steps away, making your legs drop from around his waist.
“jake,” you whine out, “what the fuck? i was so close!”
he only chuckles in response, “turn around, let me see your ass.”
you shut up and get off the counter, turning around like he told you to. jake’s hand is on your back, pushing you down so your ass it up and your chest is pressed flush against the cool bathroom counter.
jake’s other hand harshly slaps your bare skin on your ass, “spread your legs.” you do as he says again, whining at the pain and pleasure you’re feeling all at once.
you feel jake’s hands wrap around your waist before he slides his cock back into you, both of you groaning at the feeling of the different angle. jake’s grip on your waist tightens as he starts to fuck into you from the back now. your ass moving every time he slams his cock back into you all the way.
without jake holding you in place, you’re sure your hips would be bruised from the bathroom counter from how hard and fast he’s pounding into you. you keep your hands on the edges of the bathroom counter, letting jake fuck you at whatever pace he wants. your moans are getting louder and louder as both of you start to fill the bathroom up with the smell of sex and sweat.
“fuck, this pussy is just as good as i remembered it,” jake grunts out behind you. his once neat, pushed back hair is now messy along his forehead from his harsh movements and sweat. his bottom lip is swollen from biting down on it as he fucks you.
“mhm,” you nod against the counter, “y-you’re cock is still so good, fuck.”
jake’s hand lands harshly on your ass again, your hand quickly covers your mouth to prevent you from screaming. you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as jake fucks you, his cock stretching you so fucking good.
jake suddenly pulls your hair backwards, “stand up.” you do as he says yet again, but you need to grip the counter in front of you and lean on his body behind you to stand up. “look,” his nods beside your face from behind you, now that your back is pressed against his chest, his cock still lodged deep inside of you.
you look ahead of you into the mirror and see what you and jake look like pressed up against each other. jake’s one hand is still in your hair, pulling it back so you’re forced to look at yourself in the mirror. both of your hair is a mess either way, and your black dress is pulled up way past your waist, it’s almost like a crop top now.
yours and jakes eyes both look blown out, high on sex, pleasure and adrenaline. even though you’re both sweaty, you can’t help but think how good jake looks with a few sweat droplets gathering around his hairline.
“don’t you look so sexy, baby?” jake whispers into your ear, he starts to thrust upwards into your pussy again, it makes your knees buckle underneath yourself. you whimper in response, not being able to take your eyes off of yourselves in the mirror.
“y-you look so hot,” your voice is hoarse as you tell him. in the mirror you see him smirk at you, before he leans over and starts sucking on your neck, biting and nipping at all the spots that he knows drives you crazy.
jake doesn’t stop thrusting his cock up inside of you as he lets go of your hair with his hand. he then trails his hand down the front side of you and circling your clit again with two fingers. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, but still keep your eyes on the mirror in front of you. it was like watching your own personal porn, the way both of you were groaning and grabbing each other. the way your entire body would jerk everytime jake thrusted inside of you.
“that’s it, keep watching us, baby,” jake groans into your ear, your eyes meet his through the reflection of the mirror, “don’t we look so good together?”
“y-yes,” you whimper out, the pressure on your clit making you lose yourself within the pleasure.
“did you miss my cock, y/n? did you miss me?”
“mhm, yes, fuck, missed you so much.”
jake smirks against your cheek at your response, his thrusting getting more erratic, wanting to make you cum all over his cock just like you had done before, years ago.
“then cum all over my cock baby, show me how much you missed this.”
his words push you to the edge, your orgasm finally done building as it courses through your body almost suddenly. “fuck!” you cry out, your nails digging into the bathroom counter in front of you. without jake holding you you would’ve fallen right down from how the pleasure completely takes over your body. his two fingers don’t stop circling your clit all the way through your orgasm, making you cry out his name, your pussy clamping around his cock.
jake continues to thrust through your orgasm, his own release building. He grips your hips tightly, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he empties himself deep inside you. "That's it, baby, milk my cock," he growls, his voice hoarse with pleasure.
As your bodies slowly calm, Jake leans forward, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, reminds you why you had always found it so hard to forget him.
“I missed this, missed you," he breathes against your lips, his fingers gently caressing your cheek.
with his words and now that he wasn’t inside of you or making your mind all fuzzy, his words only brought you back to reality.
the reality that you just had sex with your ex in a bathroom of a bar at your best friends birthday party.
jake can physically see you tense in front of him, he lets you step away from him, turning away from him to pick up your panties from the floor and quickly slip them back on.
“y/n?” he questions you, “are you okay?”
“mhm,” you tell him, it’s all you can manage, your mind too confused with anything else.
the air in the bathroom suddenly feels suffocating. your lips and body are still tingling from his touch.
it feels like just a second ago, jake was just a memory from your college days, someone that you thought you'd’ never see again, and now, you’ve just been pressed against the bathroom counter with his hands all over your skin and his lips claiming yours. you feel like nothing makes sense right now.
you take a step back, putting distance between you and jake, your heart pounding erratically. “i can’t do this,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze as you reach for the door handle.
“y/n, wait.” jake’s voice is soft but urgent, and his hand wraps around your wrist gently, trying to stop you. “can we just talk?”
but you shake your head, pulling free from his grasp. “i can’t,” you repeat, your voice cracking slightly. without another word, you slip out of the bathroom and into the bar and then out the front door.
the cool night air hits your face as you push open the door and step outside, trying to steady your breathing. it’s a relief compared to the heat inside that bathroom. you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to think about everything that just happened and how you’re going to get home right now.
“y/n!” his voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to see him jogging toward you. before you can react, his hand catches your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. his grip is firm but not forceful, his eyes searching yours desperately. “please, talk to me.”
you pull your wrist from his grasp, a lot harder than you had meant to, but you were angry and confused. “you don’t get to just walk back into my life like nothing happened, jake! you don’t get to just show up, fuck me, and act like—like you didn’t just leave me!”
ake flinches, his expression twisting with guilt. he runs a hand through his hair, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “i know,” he says softly. “i know i don’t deserve to just… come back like this. but y/n, i couldn’t stay away.”
“then why did you leave?” you demand, your voice cracking as you step back from him. “why did you disappear? you weren’t even home half the time anymore.”
“because i was scared,” he’s blunt again, something you don’t recognize in the man you thought you knew, but you prefer it like this than him bottling it up and leaving. scared of how much i loved you. it was overwhelming, y/n. you were my whole world, and it terrified me. i mean, we were so young and, i didn’t know how to handle it, so i ran.”
your breath catches, tears stinging your eyes as his words sink in. “you hurt me, jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “you broke me.”
“i know,” he says, stepping closer, his expression full of regret. “and i’ve thought about you every day since i left. i just didn’t know how to fix it.”
his voice softens as he reaches for your hand, but he stops short, giving you the choice to take it. “but i’m here now, y/n and i’m not scared anymore. i love you.”
you stare at him, his words hanging heavily in the space between you. part of you wants to push him away again, to protect yourself from the pain he’s already caused. but another part—the part that still remembers how he made you feel, how he made you laugh, how we always seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.
“jake,” your voice weak, “you can’t just say you love me and expect it to fix everything. i mean, we dated years ago.”
“i don’t,” jake jumps to say, “i know its not that simple, but i mean it y/n. and i had to tell you what i’ve been feeling for years, even if you don’t love me anymore.”
you sigh, trying to sort all of your thoughts out. the person standing before you is no longer the boy you fell in love with all those years ago, even the simple interactions you’ve had with him so far you can tell he’s different.
“it’s going to take time,” you start to say, finally, “but i can forgive you.”
you see jake’s eyes light up in the dark night, he steps closer to you, his body heat warming yours. he takes your hands into yours, wanting you to focus only on him. “i’ll wait as long as it takes y/n. just tell me there’s a chance.” jake’s lip purse into a pout, wanting you to say yes to him.
his round eyes looking up at yours makes you scoff, “yes jake, there’s a chance.”
jake pulls your hands closer to him, making your body rush into his, making your faces only inches apart, “i won’t mess this up, y/n.”
“i believe you.”
“so… take two?”
“take two— and it’ll be the only other take, jake!”
“okay, okay, i believe you.”
@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.
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All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy
SUMMARY: When a night of playful banter and teasing turns into something far more intimate, you find yourself crossing every line you swore you wouldn't with Jake Seresin - the cocky, infuriatingly charming pilot who's always had a way of getting under your skin. Between stolen kisses, soft confessions, and moments that blur the line between lust and something deeper, it becomes clear that this isn't just a one-time thing. But as Jake's Stetson wearing, sweet talking side leaves you breathless, you'll have to decide if you're ready to risk your heart for the man who's never been one to play it safe.
A/N: This is a combination of my love for Megan Moroney and her song "All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy" as well as a request that I received in November for the prompt "One kiss won't ruin the friendship, right?" and "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Hopefully whoever requested the prompts enjoys this! Thank you all for your patience with me as I write and get through the requests that I have.
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. Smut (PinV. Mentions of biting/marking. Fingering.)
WORD COUNT: 12.4k (I'm ovulating and rewatched TGM a few days ago and fell back in love with Jake. Please don't judge me.)
TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS
The Hard Deck was alive with the hum of Christmas cheer. Twinkling string lights wrapped around wooden beams, and a small but charmingly crooked Christmas tree stood in the corner, decorated with red ornaments and what looked suspiciously like aviator sunglasses. The jukebox was cycling through a mix of classic rock and Christmas hits, creating an oddly festive but fitting soundtrack for the evening.
You sat at a table near the back, surrounded by familiar faces—your chosen family. Natasha sat to your left, nursing a whiskey sour and laughing at something Bob had just said. Reuben and Mickey were on your right, engaged in a heated debate about the best holiday movies. Bradley leaned back in his chair across from you, his mustache twitching with amusement as he chimed in occasionally, and Javy was at the bar grabbing the next round.
It had been months—maybe a year—since you’d met the Dagger Squad through a mutual friend, but somehow, they had adopted you like one of their own. Now, invites to their gatherings were automatic, and evenings like this one were the norm.
Phoenix nudged your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Alright, enough sitting on the sidelines. We’ve decided it’s time for a little holiday intervention.”
You raised a brow, taking a sip of your drink. “Holiday intervention?”
“You’ve been single for far too long,” she declared, gesturing dramatically with her drink. “It’s time we find you someone.”
Reuben snorted. “This again?”
“Yes, this again,” Phoenix shot back. “I mean, look at her.” She motioned to you with a flourish. “She's smart, funny, gorgeous—”
“Don’t forget stubborn,” Bob added with a grin.
“Exactly,” Phoenix said, unbothered. “We’re not letting you ring in another New Year without at least some action.”
You rolled your eyes, a laugh slipping out despite yourself. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m good, really.”
“Uh-huh,” Natasha said, unconvinced. “You know, we could always ask Jake—”
“Ask me what?” The smooth, teasing drawl interrupted her, and you didn’t even have to look to know who it was.
Jake “Hangman” Seresin strolled up to the table, pool cue slung over one shoulder, that infuriatingly perfect smirk already in place.
Natasha didn’t miss a beat. “We’re trying to set her up with someone. Know any decent guys who are single?”
A flicker of something—surprise, maybe?—passed over Jake’s face before he quickly masked it with an exaggerated scoff.
“Decent guys? Here? Good luck.” He leaned on the back of an empty chair, his green eyes flicking to yours for just a moment before he addressed Natasha again. “Besides, she doesn’t need a setup. She’s clearly too good for anyone in this dump.”
“I’m fine,” you insisted, taking a sip of your drink. “Seriously. I don’t need a relationship right now.”
Natasha’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t need or don’t want?”
“Both.” The lie rolled off your tongue easily, but the weight of the unspoken truth settled in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a relationship. You just didn’t want one with anyone who wasn’t Jake Seresin. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.
“Sure,” Natasha drawled, clearly unconvinced.
“What about that guy over there?” Payback’s girlfriend suggested, nodding toward a tall man leaning against the bar. He was handsome, you supposed, but his eager smile didn’t stir anything in you.
“No, I don’t think so,” you said quickly.
“Okay fine, let’s figure out what you’re looking for. What is your type?” Natasha pressed, leaning in with a grin that told you she wasn’t going to drop this anytime soon.
“I don’t have a type.”
“Everyone has a type,” Mickey chimed in, his tone far too amused for your liking. “Dark hair? Light hair?”
“Light hair,” you muttered before you could stop yourself.
“Tall or short?” Natasha asked, clearly enjoying herself.
“Tall.”
“How tall?”
“I don’t know,” you said, your voice rising slightly in exasperation. “Six feet? Six-one, maybe?”
Natasha grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Anything else? Beard? No beard? Tattoos? Come on, give us something!”
You hesitated, suddenly very aware of Jake still leaning casually nearby, listening to every word. “I don’t know. Tall. Hot. In a Stetson?”
The table burst into laughter, but Jake rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, good luck finding a cowboy here. Closest you’ll get is someone in boots and a flannel at line-dancing night.”
His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, something you couldn’t quite place. Before you could overthink it, Natasha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, he’s not wrong, but maybe you should branch out. Broaden your horizons a little.”
You shook your head, brushing her off with a laugh. “I’m fine, really. No setups needed.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Phoenix said, clearly not convinced. “We’ll see.”
Jake’s smirk returned as he straightened up, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual before he turned to head back to the pool table.
“Good luck, ladies,” he called over his shoulder.
You watched him go, trying not to let your eyes linger too long. If only they knew the cowboy you wanted wasn’t some hypothetical stranger—it was the one person you couldn’t have. Not that it mattered, you reminded yourself. Jake Seresin didn’t do relationships. And you? You didn’t do casual. It was better this way. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.
The night carried on, the crowd at The Hard Deck growing as more people trickled in, filling the space with laughter and music. You were mid-conversation with Phoenix and one of the guys' girlfriends, your drink in hand, when the first guy approached.
He wasn’t bad-looking—dark hair, decent smile—but you could tell right away he wasn’t your type. And the way he glanced over at Natasha before walking up only confirmed your suspicions.
“Hey,” he started, a little too confident. “Can I buy you another drink?”
You smiled politely, shaking your head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
He lingered for a second longer than necessary, clearly waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t, he shrugged, muttered something under his breath, and walked away.
The moment he was out of earshot, Phoenix grinned. “What was wrong with that one?”
You gave her a look. “He wasn’t my type.”
“You’ve got to stop using that excuse,” she teased. “We’re just trying to help you out.”
“I don’t need help,” you said firmly, though your tone stayed light. “I’m not looking for anything right now.”
The other woman smirked knowingly. “Sure you’re not.”
Over the next hour, two more guys approached you. Each time, you managed to slip away gracefully, making it clear you weren’t interested without causing a scene. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Natasha—or maybe one of the other girlfriends—was behind it.
By the third attempt, you shot Phoenix a pointed look. “Seriously?”
“What?” she said innocently, but her smile gave her away.
You sighed, shaking your head. “You’re relentless, you know that?”
“It’s because I care,” she said sweetly, raising her glass in mock toast.
Jake chose that moment to stroll over, his timing impeccable as always. “Everything okay over here?”
Phoenix grinned. “Oh, everything’s great. Just trying to find her the perfect man.”
Jake raised a brow, glancing between the two of you. “Perfect man, huh? Sounds like a tall order. I thought we were just going for someone to take her home tonight.”
You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, he nodded toward your now-empty glass. “Need a refill?”
You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. Just my usual, thanks.”
Jake gave a quick two-finger salute before heading toward the bar.
Phoenix watched him go, her expression unreadable for a moment before she turned back to you, her grin returning. “Wow. Hangman buying you a drink? That’s new.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced.
One of the guys at the table chimed in, smirking. “Yeah, he’s real nice, isn’t he? You know he’s from Texas. Could probably pull off that cowboy look you’ve been fantasizing about.”
“Oh, come on,” you said, rolling your eyes again. “It’s Jake. He’s not trying to get in my pants.”
“That’s what they all say,” Bob joked, earning a round of laughter from the group.
Jake returned a moment later, handing you your drink with a small, knowing smile. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” you said, brushing off the teasing from the others as you took a sip.
You couldn’t help but notice the way Jake’s gaze lingered on you for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he turned back toward the pool table. And despite everything, you couldn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat.
The hours slipped by, the bar gradually thinning out as the night wore on. You’d lost count of how many rounds of pool Jake had won or how many times Phoenix had tried to steer a random guy in your direction.
Despite it all, you’d actually had fun, laughing and teasing the squad like always. But now, your head felt a little too light, and your body a little too warm from the alcohol.
You glanced at your phone, noting the time. “Alright, I think I’m calling it,” you announced, sliding off your barstool.
Most of the group groaned in protest, but you waved them off. “Some of us have to be functioning humans tomorrow.”
“You sure you’re good?” Natasha asked, her sharp gaze flicking over you like she was scanning for cracks.
“Yeah, yeah,” you assured her, pulling on your jacket. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
But as you turned toward the door, your balance wavered slightly, the ground tilting just enough to make you grab the back of your stool for support. No one else seemed to notice, but Jake did.
You didn’t even realize he’d followed you outside until you felt the cool night air and heard his voice behind you. “You sure you’re good to get home?”
Startled, you turned to face him, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m getting an Uber.”
Jake’s expression darkened slightly, his hands settling on his hips. “An Uber? You’re telling me you’re gonna get into a car with some random guy you don’t know and let him take you home?”
You raised a brow, amused by his sudden concern. “Yes, Jake. That’s how Uber works.”
He didn’t laugh. Instead, he studied you for a moment, his jaw working like he was turning over a decision in his head.
“I don’t like it,” he said finally. “Come on, let me drive you home.”
You crossed your arms, giving him a skeptical look. “Please tell me they didn’t convince you to try and ask me out too.”
Jake let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “No. This isn’t a setup. I’m just being your friend.”
You squinted at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. “You sure about that?”
“Promise,” he said, holding up his hands like he was swearing an oath. “Scout’s honor.”
You hesitated, the stubborn part of you tempted to insist you didn’t need help. But the truth was, the idea of being in a car with Jake felt a hell of a lot safer—and less awkward—than riding home with a stranger.
“Alright,” you relented, sighing. “But if this is some elaborate scheme to get me to admit I like you or something, I’m going to be really annoyed.”
Jake grinned, gesturing toward the parking lot. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home before you overthink this to death.”
The drive home was quiet at first, Jake’s truck rumbling softly as it cut through the stillness of the night. You leaned back in the passenger seat, the cool air from the open window doing wonders to clear your head. Jake glanced at you occasionally, his hands loose on the wheel but his focus unwavering.
“You gonna tell me what that was all about back there?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.
You turned to him, your brows furrowing. “What what was all about?”
“Natasha and the girls,” he clarified. “Trying to set you up like it’s a speed dating event.”
You groaned, letting your head fall back against the seat. “Oh, that. Yeah, I don’t know what got into them. They’re convinced I’ve been single for too long.”
Jake smirked. “And what? You just let them keep at it?”
“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” you said with a laugh. “Trust me, I tried shutting it down, but Nat can be very persuasive. Plus, I think she roped in some of the girlfriends for backup.”
He nodded, his gaze flicking between you and the road. “So... are you looking?”
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. “Looking?”
“For someone,” he said casually, though there was a hint of something else in his tone—curiosity, maybe.
You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Not really,” you admitted. “I mean, it’s not that I’m against the idea, but I’m not actively looking for anyone either. And definitely not the way they’re going about it.”
Jake chuckled, his smile pulling up on one side. “Fair enough.”
He was quiet for a moment, the hum of the truck filling the space between you. Then, almost hesitantly, he said, “You know, I think Coyote might know a guy on one of the boats—he’s from Kansas or something. Probably got that farmer-cowboy look you’re into.”
You couldn’t help but smile, his attempt at helpfulness both endearing and a little amusing. “That’s sweet, Jake, but I really don’t think I’m looking for a farmer or a cowboy—or anyone, for that matter.”
Jake glanced at you briefly, his lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I figured as much.”
“Why’d you bring it up, then?” you asked, tilting your head to study him.
He shrugged, his eyes on the road. “Just thought you might like to know your options.”
“Thanks,” you said softly, your smile lingering. “But I think I’m okay with where I am right now. I'll find someone eventually.”
Jake nodded, the conversation settling into a comfortable lull as he turned onto your street.
The glow of the streetlights flickered against the windows of Jake’s truck as he slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building. You unbuckled your seatbelt, your phone buzzing against your thigh just as you reached for the door handle.
Pulling it out, you glanced at the screen. A message from your roommate lit up the display: Just a heads-up—I’ve got company tonight. Might want to keep the earbuds handy 😉
You groaned audibly, letting your head fall back against the seat with a dramatic thud.
Jake shot you a curious glance, his brow lifting. “What’s wrong?”
You waved your phone in his direction with a weary sigh. “Roommate’s got a guy over. And from the sound of it, I’m going to need noise-canceling headphones or a place to sleep that isn’t directly next to her room.”
Jake chuckled, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “Sounds like it’s going to be a rough night for you, huh?”
“You have no idea,” you muttered, reaching for the door again.
Before you could hop out, Jake’s voice stopped you. “You don’t have to go in, you know.”
You turned to him, your hand frozen on the handle. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, his gaze soft but steady as it met yours. “I mean, if you don’t feel like dealing with... that,” he gestured vaguely toward your phone, “you can come crash at my place. It’s quiet, and I’ve got a couch you can take over if you’re not ready to head home yet.”
You hesitated, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your phone. Spending more time with Jake wasn’t exactly going to help your unspoken crush, but the alternative—trying to sleep through your roommate’s extracurricular activities—was far less appealing.
“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with doubt. “I don’t want to impose or anything.”
Jake rolled his eyes, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. “You wouldn’t be. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer through that?”
The word friend grounded you, loosening the knot of uncertainty in your chest. You smiled softly, nodding your agreement. “Alright, Seresin. But if you don’t have coffee in the morning, I’m going to rethink our so-called friendship.”
Jake laughed, the sound warm and low as he shifted the truck back into drive. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll even make you breakfast if you’re lucky.”
Jake unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped aside to let you in first. The place was clean but lived-in—soft lighting, a comfortable couch, a TV mounted on the wall, and just a few hints of his personality scattered throughout: a Navy ball cap tossed on the entryway table, framed photos of his family, and what looked like a pair of cowboy boots sitting by the door.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, flicking on the lights and heading toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”
You nodded, shrugging off your jacket and folding it over the back of a chair before settling onto the couch. “Thanks, Jake.”
He returned a moment later, two beers in hand. Passing one to you, he dropped onto the couch beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him. You took a sip, the cold drink soothing against the warmth still lingering on your cheeks from the night’s events.
Jake leaned back, his arm casually draping over the back of the couch. “So,” he started, his tone playful, “what was that whole ‘tall, hot, in a Stetson’ thing earlier really about? Got a cowboy crush I don’t know about?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s just a preference.”
He tilted his head, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Uh-huh. You sure about that? Because it kind of sounded like you were describing someone I know.”
Your brow furrowed as you turned to look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
Jake’s grin widened. “Tall? Blonde? Hot? I mean, you might as well have just said my name.”
You rolled your eyes, but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Oh, please. You’re so full of yourself, Seresin.”
Jake’s gaze flicked to your face, his sharp eyes catching the faint blush blooming across your cheeks. His grin softened into something more thoughtful. “Wait a second,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You’re blushing.”
“No, I’m not,” you said quickly, shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.
“Oh, you definitely are,” he teased, his voice low and amused. “Tell me—do you have a little crush on me?”
You scoffed, your heart racing as you tried to deflect. “What are we, in middle school?”
Jake chuckled, but his expression didn’t shift. He studied you for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes fading into something quieter, more serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could come up with a denial, Jake leaned in closer, the space between you narrowing. His lips hovered close to yours, close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting against your skin.
“Jake,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest, “what are you doing?”
His eyes locked with yours, intense and unwavering. “I’m kissing you,” he said, his voice low and steady, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Unless you tell me to stop.”
“Jake…we…we can’t.”
“You know,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, “one kiss probably won’t ruin the friendship, right?”
Your breath caught, but you didn’t move away. Instead, you sat there, frozen as the space between you vanished. When his lips finally touched yours, it was soft at first—almost tentative, like he was giving you the chance to change your mind.
But you didn’t.
Jake’s hand came up, his fingers brushing along your jaw before cupping your face. His touch was firm yet gentle, anchoring you in place as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours, confident and unhurried, like he’d been waiting for this moment and was determined to savor every second of it.
Your hand found its way to his chest, the firm muscle beneath his shirt making your pulse race even faster. You felt him exhale, a soft, pleased sound escaping him as your fingers curled into the fabric. Without even thinking, you shifted closer, your body leaning into his as the kiss grew more heated.
Jake pulled back for the briefest moment, just enough to catch his breath, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he looked at you. His eyes were darker now, filled with something that made your stomach flip.
“You’re killing me, darlin’,” he murmured, his Texas drawl thicker than usual.
You didn’t give yourself time to overthink it. Fueled by a mixture of nerves and adrenaline, you swung a leg over his, settling yourself onto his lap. Jake froze for half a heartbeat before his hands found your waist, his grip firm and grounding.
You reached up, your fingers threading your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, your nails grazing lightly against his scalp as you leaned in and kissed him again. Jake groaned softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer.
The kiss turned fervent, all soft restraint melting away as your bodies pressed together. Jake’s lips were hot and insistent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he tilted his head, deepening the kiss further. Your fingers fisted in his hair, his skin warm beneath your touch as his hands began to roam, sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you securely in his lap.
Your heart was racing, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him, the way he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough. Every brush of his lips, every press of his hands against you, made you feel like you were burning from the inside out.
When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, Jake’s forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. His hands stayed on your hips, his thumbs brushing idly against the fabric of your shirt.
You then reached down and started to tug at the hem of your shirt, but he reach out and caught your wrists, halting you.
“Whoa, hold up,” he said, his voice low but firm.
You pulled back slightly, confused, your gaze searching his. His hands stayed on your wrists, gentle but unyielding.
“What?” you asked, blinking at him as your pulse raced.
Jake’s lips twitched into a small smile, but his expression was serious. “I’m not doing this. Not yet.”
You frowned, sitting back on his lap, your legs still straddling him. “You’re not doing what?”
“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “I want to buy you dinner first.”
You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “Dinner? Like a date?”
Jake nodded, his hands resting lightly on your hips now.
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did, you couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that escaped you. “Jake, you don’t do dates. Or dinners. Or follow any kind of rules when it comes to sleeping with women. What’s changed.”
Jake chuckled, but there was a sincerity in his gaze that made your stomach flutter. “You’re not just some hookup for me,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I want to do this right with you.”
Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. You weren’t used to seeing Jake like this—so earnest, so serious. The guy who flirted shamelessly, who rarely stuck around for more than a night, was now telling you he wanted to take you on a proper date before anything happened between you.
“You know,” you said after a beat, your tone teasing but your heart pounding, “you did technically buy me a round earlier at the bar.”
Jake shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Nice try, darlin’. A beer doesn’t count as dinner.”
You sighed dramatically, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms over your chest. “Jake, it’s late. It’s literally Christmas Eve. Nowhere that you would deem worthy of our first date is going to be open.”
Jake laughed, his hands still resting on your hips. “Guess we’ll have to wait then.”
“Or,” you said, sitting up straighter, an idea forming in your mind, “you can give me your phone.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Why?”
“Just trust me,” you said, holding out your hand.
He hesitated for a moment before sighing and reaching into his pocket to hand it over. You unlocked the screen, your fingers moving quickly as you opened the Uber Eats app.
Jake leaned forward slightly, peering over your shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Ordering dinner,” you said simply, scrolling through the options for one of the few places still open this late on Christmas Eve.
Jake watched as you added something to the cart, then handed the phone back to him. “Go ahead, pick something for yourself.”
Still looking slightly bewildered, Jake glanced down at the screen, his brow furrowing as he scanned the menu. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” you said, smirking at him.
Jake sighed, clearly still confused, but he added an item to the order and placed it. As soon as the confirmation screen popped up, he turned to you, shaking his head. “All right, now you’ve got to tell me—what was the point of all that?”
You grinned, leaning forward slightly so your face was inches from his. “Because now you’ve technically bought me dinner,” you said, your tone teasing but your eyes locked on his.
Jake stared at you for a moment, then threw his head back with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Maybe,” you said, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “But now that you’ve fulfilled your ‘dinner first’ rule, are you going to fuck me or not?”
Jake’s laughter died down, replaced by a look that made your stomach flip. His hands tightened slightly on your hips as his gaze darkened, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “But if we’re doing this, darlin’, we’re doing it my way.”
You tilted your head, eyeing him curiously. “Your way, huh?” you teased, the corner of your lips quirking up. “And what exactly does your way mean?”
Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his hands tightened on your hips, and before you could even process what was happening, he stood up with you still straddling his lap.
“Jake!” you yelped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance as he stood effortlessly, holding you against him like you weighed nothing.
He grinned down at you, completely unfazed by your reaction, and started walking down the hallway. “First rule,” he drawled, his voice low and steady, “your first time with me is not going to be on my couch.”
You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as his words sank in. “Oh,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jake chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he carried you with ease, the hallway narrowing around you. “You deserve better than that, darlin’,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “So, my way means I’m going to take my time with you. Do it right, starting with getting you on a bed.”
You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. The way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was enough to leave you breathless.
When he reached the door at the end of the hall, Jake shifted you slightly in his arms so he could turn the handle, nudging the door open with his foot. The room beyond was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the space.
Jake stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him with a soft thud. He finally set you down, your feet touching the plush carpet, but his hands didn’t leave your waist.
You glanced around, your nerves and excitement battling for dominance. “So…what’s the second rule?” you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably as your voice wavered.
Jake’s lips quirked into a smirk as he leaned down, his face so close to yours that his breath fanned across your skin.
“The second rule,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, “is that I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of this.”
Your breath hitched, your hands sliding up his chest almost instinctively. “That’s…a pretty good rule,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jake’s smirk widened as his hands slid from your waist to your hips, pulling you flush against him. “Good,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes dark with intent. “Because I don’t break my own rules.”
With that, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the heated kisses you’d shared earlier. His hands roamed your back, his touch firm but careful, like he was savoring every moment.
You melted into him, your arms looping around his neck as the kiss deepened. His tongue slid against yours, drawing a soft whimper from you that only seemed to spur him on.
His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist. But instead of rushing to remove it quickly, he took his time, his touch reverent as he pushed the fabric up inch by inch.
You broke the kiss for just a moment, your breath coming in soft pants as you let him pull your shirt over your head. His gaze raked over you, his eyes darkening as he took you in.
“Goddamn,” Jake murmured, his voice husky. “You’re beautiful.”
Heat flooded your cheeks, but before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you closer.
Jake’s lips broke away from yours, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. Slowly, he trailed his kisses along your jaw, the gentle scrape of his stubble sending shivers down your spine. His lips moved lower, finding the sensitive curve of your neck.
At first, the kisses were light, teasing. But then he began sucking and biting softly, testing different spots until he hit the one that made your head fall back with a soft gasp, your fingers tightening in the hair at the nape of his neck.
The sound you made—the small, unrestrained moan that escaped your lips—had Jake pausing for the briefest moment before he let out a low groan of his own, his mouth returning to the same spot with renewed focus. This time, he nipped a little harder, drawing another reaction out of you.
“Jake,” you warned softly, your breath hitching as you tugged at his hair. “Don’t leave a mark.”
You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your neck.
“Why not?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his teeth grazed your skin. Before you could answer, he added in a quiet whisper, “I kinda like the idea of everyone knowing you’re my girl.”
That pulled your head up, and you gave him a look, arching a brow. “Your girl, huh?”
Jake didn’t miss a beat, his green eyes locking onto yours as he leaned in close, his lips brushing just below your ear. “My girl,” he repeated, his voice filled with a confidence that made your heart race.
You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was back on your skin, moving lower this time. He kissed along your collarbone, his lips pressing against every inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
When he reached the strap of your bra, his fingers deftly reached around your back. With a practiced ease that had you smirking slightly, he unclasped it. He pulled back just enough to slide the straps down your arms, his hands warm and firm against your skin as he discarded the lacey fabric to the floor.
Jake’s gaze dropped, and his lips parted slightly as his eyes roamed over you. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression somewhere between awe and hunger. Then, a slow grin spread across his face.
“This is what you wore to the bar?” he asked, his voice playful but edged with disbelief.
You blushed, rolling your eyes even as you smiled. “It’s laundry day,” you mumbled. “All the comfy stuff was in the wash.”
Jake chuckled, his hands sliding up your sides to rest just below your chest. “Laundry day, huh?”
“Yes, why? Do you have a problem with my choice of undergarments?”
“Not exactly,” he teased, his grin widening. “But that…is way too sexy for just a casual night out with friends.”
His thumb brushed just below the curve of your breast, sending a spark of warmth straight through you.
You rolled your eyes again, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “It’s just a bra, Jake,” you muttered, though your voice wavered slightly.
He didn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, he leaned forward, his mouth finding the soft skin of your chest. His lips were warm and gentle, kissing along the swell of your breast before his tongue flicked against your skin.
Your breath hitched, and Jake’s hands shifted to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continued. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your skin, his lips and tongue working in tandem to explore every inch. When he finally reached your nipple, his mouth closed around it, drawing a soft moan from you that only seemed to spur him on.
His hands tightened on your hips as his other hand slid up, cupping your other breast and giving it the same attention. Jake groaned softly against your skin, clearly enjoying himself, and the sound sent a shiver through you.
Jake pulled back for a moment, just enough to glance up at you with a wicked grin. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he teased, his voice low and rough. “Didn’t know you were hiding these under all those sweaters and jackets.”
You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers sliding into his hair. “Shut up, Jake,” you muttered, pulling him back to you.
He laughed softly but didn’t argue, his mouth returning to your chest with renewed enthusiasm. Jake Seresin might have had a reputation for being cocky and playful, but in this moment, he was focused, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.
Jake's lips were still warm against your skin, his tongue flicking over the same sensitive spot on your chest that had you squirming against him, when a sudden thought crossed your mind. You realized how uneven the situation was—your bra was already on the floor, and yet here he was, still fully dressed.
Not one to let such an imbalance slide, you tugged at the hem of his shirt. Jake pulled back, his green eyes flicking to yours in question, his mouth curving into a smug smile when he caught on.
You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond, simply giving the fabric another tug. Jake let out a quiet laugh, sitting up slightly so he could pull the shirt over his head. The movement was so fluid, so effortless, that it was almost infuriating. And when he tossed the shirt aside, your mouth went dry.
Your eyes trailed over him slowly, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the defined lines of his abs, and the way his skin seemed to glow under the dim light of his apartment. You’d known Jake Seresin was fit—anyone could tell just by looking at him—but this? This was something else entirely.
Your hands moved instinctively, sliding over the hard planes of his chest, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips making your pulse race. You traced the subtle curve of his muscles, your thumb brushing over a faint scar just below his collarbone, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.
Jake caught the sound, his brow lifting as he smirked. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
You shook your head, trying to find the words but failing. Instead, you blurted, “You’re not real.”
That caught him off guard, and he chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “Not real, huh?”
You gestured vaguely at him, your hands hovering just above his abs. “Nobody looks like this in real life. I mean… how? Do you, like, live in the gym or something?”
Jake laughed again, clearly amused by your reaction. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your thighs as he regarded you with a playful gleam in his eyes. “It’s all just good genetics, sweetheart,” he drawled, his smirk widening. “But if you wanna keep admiring, don’t let me stop you.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Cocky,” you muttered, though your hands betrayed you by continuing their exploration, tracing the ridges of his muscles like you were committing them to memory.
“Confident,” Jake corrected, leaning forward again so that his face was just inches from yours. “And besides…” His lips brushed lightly against your jaw, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You’re not exactly keeping your hands to yourself, darlin’.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, your blush deepening as his teasing smirk only grew wider. His confidence was maddening, but it also sent a rush of heat through you that you couldn’t ignore. Finally, you huffed and muttered, “You talk too much.”
Jake tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more mischievous. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”
Without missing a beat, you leaned in close, your breath brushing against his lips as you whispered, “Shut up and kiss me, Seresin.”
His eyes darkened at your words, the playful light in them replaced with something deeper, hungrier. He didn’t hesitate. His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck as he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours.
His hand at your neck tilted your head just enough to deepen the kiss, while his other hand tightened its grip on your waist, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies.
You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest and over his shoulders, your fingers tangling in the short hair at the back of his head. When he nipped at your bottom lip, your soft gasp gave him the perfect opening, and his tongue swept into your mouth, stealing whatever clever retort you might have had.
Jake broke the kiss just long enough to guide you backward. His strong hands shifted to your hips as he maneuvered you gently, lowering you onto the bed as if you weighed nothing. His lips found yours again before your head even hit the pillow, his body following as he braced himself over you, one forearm resting beside your head while his other hand remained at your waist.
The bed dipped slightly under your combined weight, and you felt the cool sheets against your back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you and Jake. His kisses grew slower, deeper, his mouth moving over yours in a way that made your toes curl. His free hand slid up your side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as it found your cheek, tilting your face toward his for better access.
You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—all you could do was feel. The warmth of his body, the intoxicating way he kissed you, the steady weight of him pressing you into the mattress—it was overwhelming in the best way.
Jake finally pulled back, just enough to look down at you, his lips red and swollen, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His gaze was molten as it roamed over your face, lingering on your kiss-bruised lips before meeting your eyes.
“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, and his lips quirked into a softer, almost reverent smile. “You know that?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared up at him, the sincerity in his expression taking your breath away all over again. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a whisper. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Jake’s lips hovered above yours, his breath warm against your skin, but his hands began to move, dragging your focus away from the way his mouth made you feel and to the steady path his fingers were tracing. They slid down your sides with a deliberate slowness, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hips before they stopped at the waistband of your jeans.
He shifted back just slightly, his hands working to pop the button open and tug the zipper down. His green eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the spark of mischief in them sent a jolt of anticipation straight through you. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”
You did as he asked, and he made quick work of guiding your jeans down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that left goosebumps in their wake. The denim hit the floor, and Jake’s gaze swept over you, lingering when he noticed the lacy underwear that matched the bra he’d already discarded.
A slow smirk spread across his face, the kind that made your stomach flip and your cheeks flush. “Now this,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature cockiness, “is a sight I could get used to.”
His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, and with one smooth motion, he slid them down your legs and discarded them on the floor beside your jeans. His hands returned to your thighs, his touch featherlight as he traced patterns over your skin.
“From now on,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of your knee, “you only wear these for me. Got it?”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the sheer audacity of the man in front of you. “And what makes you think this will be more than a one-time thing,” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.
Jake didn’t even blink at your question. Instead, he leaned back slightly, resting his weight on his knees as his hands slid higher up your thighs. “Because you don’t do casual,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. His hands stilled just shy of where you wanted them, his thumbs brushing agonizingly close to the heat pooling between your legs. “You don’t do one-night hookups.”
His words were confident, but then that cocky grin returned, and he leaned down just enough that his lips hovered above your skin. His thumb trailed teasingly over your inner thigh, not quite touching you where you needed him most, and it was maddening.
“And because,” he continued, his voice low and teasing, “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already trying to get more.” His thumb brushed a little closer this time, still not quite enough, and the sharp intake of breath you let out didn’t escape his notice.
Your hips tilted up instinctively, desperate for more contact, but Jake pulled his hand back just slightly, his grin widening as he caught your movement.
“See what I mean?” he teased, his voice dripping with that infuriating self-assurance. “One night’s not gonna be enough for you, sweetheart. You won’t be able to get enough of me.”
Jake’s smirk deepened as he continued his slow, agonizing teasing, his fingers dancing closer and closer to where you needed him.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he drawled, his green eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned down to press a kiss to the curve of your hip. “Good things come to those who wait.”
Your head fell back against the pillows, a frustrated groan slipping from your lips. You felt like you were about to combust, every nerve ending on fire as Jake toyed with you like it was some kind of game. The worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Jake,” you started, your voice laced with exasperation as you lifted your head to glare at him. “I swear to God—”
Before you could finish your sentence, his fingers finally moved, pressing against you in just the right spot. The sudden surge of pleasure ripped the words right from your throat, replacing them with a sharp, breathy moan that had Jake’s grin widening in satisfaction.
“That’s more like it,” he murmured, his voice low and smug as his fingers began working in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing another soft sound from your lips. “Knew you’d sound pretty, but damn, sweetheart, I didn’t think you’d sound this good.”
Your hands fisted the sheets beside you, your back arching slightly off the bed as the pressure built, wave after wave crashing over you with every precise movement of his hand. “Jake…” His name came out like a plea, your voice trembling as you tried to catch your breath.
He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I’ve got you, darlin’. Just let me take care of you.”
His free hand slid up your side, his thumb brushing along your ribs in a soothing gesture that contrasted sharply with the fire he was setting off with every calculated touch. Your hips tilted toward him, desperate for more, and Jake was quick to oblige, his fingers pressing harder, moving faster, drawing out the kind of pleasure that had your head spinning and your thoughts unraveling.
The tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Jake shifted slightly, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was every bit as intoxicating as the way his hands worked your body. It was messy and consuming, his tongue brushing against yours in a rhythm that matched the movements of his fingers, as if he was determined to pull every last sound from your lips.
When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, your forehead pressed against his, your fingers gripping his biceps for support. He didn’t stop, though, his lips trailing down your jaw, over your neck, and back to the spot on your collarbone that had you shivering.
“You doing okay there, sweetheart?” he teased, his breath warm against your skin as he chuckled softly. “Seem a little… speechless.”
Jake’s fingers slowed just enough to pull you back from the edge, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, and you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, his lips were at your ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
“Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. “Have you ever thought about this before? About me? About my hands on you like this?”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you could feel your face heat, your body betraying you as a rush of arousal coursed through you. Of course, you’d thought about it. You’d thought about it far more times than you cared to admit, in moments you’d never expected and in ways that had left you wondering what it would feel like to have Jake Seresin in this exact position.
But you weren’t about to tell him that.
“No,” you managed to say, though the breathiness of your voice betrayed your attempt at indifference.
Jake chuckled low, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed a kiss just below your ear. His fingers started moving again, slow and deliberate, building that fire inside you all over again. “Liar,” he whispered, his tone dripping with confidence.
Your breath hitched as his hand worked you over with maddening precision, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I think you’ve thought about this a lot,” he continued, his voice soft but insistent, like a secret he was unraveling. “About me touching you like this. About me kissing you. About me making you fall apart.”
Your hips bucked against his hand involuntarily, a quiet gasp slipping from your lips. Jake’s smirk was audible in his next words. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured.
“Jake…” you warned, though the word lacked any real heat, your voice shaking as he pushed you closer to the edge again.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice still low and intimate, as if the moment was just for the two of you. “Tell me the truth. You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”
You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but your body told a different story, arching into his touch, chasing the release he kept pulling just out of reach.
“Still not talking, huh?” he teased, his lips ghosting over your neck. “That’s okay. I think I already know the answer.”
You let out a frustrated groan, your head falling back against the pillow as Jake’s fingers slowed again, denying you the release you so desperately craved.
“Jake, I swear to God—”
“Say the word,” he whispered, his voice dark and tempting. “Say you want this. Say you want me.”
Your resolve crumbled under the weight of his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the teasing rhythm of his fingers sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You couldn’t take it anymore, the denial of release driving you mad.
“Fine,” you blurted out, your voice a mix of desperation and surrender. “I’ve thought about it. About you. Happy now?”
Jake froze for a moment, his smirk widening as he absorbed your confession, his ego clearly basking in your words. “Damn right I am,” he drawled, his tone as smug as ever. His fingers picked up their pace again, but this time with a newfound determination, his touch deliberate and calculated as he pushed you closer to the edge once more.
“Have you thought about my hands doing this?” he murmured, shifting his hand ever so slightly, his movements slow and precise as he watched your reaction.
Your body arched involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping your lips. You couldn’t lie even if you wanted to.
He chuckled, his lips brushing against your neck as he continued. “Or maybe this?” He changed the angle of his touch again, his fingers finding just the right spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Jake,” you panted, your voice trembling with need, but he wasn’t done yet.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he pressed, his tone both teasing and possessive.
“How many nights have you thought about this? About me making you feel this good?”
You let out a whimper, the pressure inside you building to an unbearable intensity. “Please, Jake,” you finally begged, your voice cracking as you tilted your hips toward his hand, desperate for the release he was holding just out of reach.
“Please, what?” he whispered, his voice dark and enticing.
“Please, just—”
Before you could finish, he gave you exactly what you needed, his fingers working you over with perfect precision, sending you hurtling over the edge. A cry tore from your lips as the tension snapped, your body trembling under the overwhelming wave of pleasure.
Jake didn’t stop, his hand staying steady as he guided you through your release, murmuring soft praises in your ear.
“That’s it, baby,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing replaced with something more intimate, more sincere. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
Your hands clutched at him as you rode out the high, your breathing ragged and uneven as he slowed his movements, easing you back down. His free hand caressed your side, grounding you as you came back to yourself.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
As the intensity slowly ebbed away, you opened your eyes to find Jake watching you. The cocky smirk you'd expected wasn’t there—instead, he was looking at you with something softer, something that made your chest tighten. His hand brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch lingering for just a moment before pulling back. He gave you a small, almost shy smile, one that you’d never seen before.
“What?” you asked nervously, returning the smile as your heart pounded for an entirely different reason now.
Jake shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting into something more tender than teasing. “You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
You blinked at him, caught completely off guard. He wasn’t grinning or smirking or full of his usual bravado—he was just Jake, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room.
Heat rose to your cheeks, and you didn’t know what to say. “Oh,” you whispered, your voice soft as his words settled over you.
The moment stretched between you, and for the first time, Jake looked away, almost as if realizing how vulnerable he’d made himself. But instead of pulling back, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, a gesture so tender it made your chest ache.
“Let’s get you some water,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. But as he moved to stand, his fingers brushed yours, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter all over again.
And at that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just some casual hookup with him. You weren’t sure what it was yet, but it was more.
Jake disappeared into the walk in closet, leaving you alone in his bedroom for a moment. When he returned, he had one of his shirts in hand—soft, worn, and smelling distinctly like him. He tossed it to you with a crooked smile.
“Figured you’d be more comfortable in this,” he said before turning toward the door, giving you a bit of privacy to change.
Once you slipped into the oversized shirt, you padded out to find him in the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and handed it to you as you approached.
“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a long sip.
Jake nodded toward the couch. “Come on. Sit with me.”
You followed him over, sinking into the cushion next to him, leaving a respectable amount of space between you. Jake glanced at the gap and raised an eyebrow, smirking just slightly.
“You scared of me now or something?” he teased, his voice soft but warm.
You rolled your eyes, but before you could come up with a response, Jake reached over and tugged gently at your hand, coaxing you closer. “C’mere,” he said, his tone so inviting you didn’t think to resist.
You shifted over until your thigh brushed against his, and Jake draped an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder. He didn’t push for more, didn’t try to crowd you—he just held you there, close enough to feel his warmth.
“You good?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now.
You nodded, leaning slightly into him. “Yeah. I’m good.”
For a while, neither of you said anything. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the occasional creak of the couch as you both shifted to get more comfortable. Eventually, you rested your head against Jake’s shoulder, and you could feel him relax beneath you, the tension in his body melting away.
This—whatever this was—felt easy. And for now, you were content to let it be.
The silence between you settled into something soft, the kind of quiet where you could hear your own thoughts but didn’t mind sharing the space with someone else. Jake absentmindedly brushed his fingers along your arm, his touch light, comforting.
But then the thought hit you, and you started to feel a twinge of guilt. Jake had gone out of his way to make sure you felt incredible, but you hadn’t done the same for him. The realization sat heavily in your chest, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you shifted slightly, sitting up to look at him.
"Hey," you said, your voice quieter than you expected.
Jake tilted his head toward you, the corners of his lips quirking up. "What’s on your mind, darlin’?"
You hesitated, chewing your bottom lip for a second. "I just... I feel bad. You—you got me to, you know, but I didn’t—"
Jake’s low laugh cut you off, his head tipping back for a moment before he looked at you again, his eyes warm and amused. "You feel bad about that?"
"Well... yeah," you admitted, your cheeks heating. You glanced away, feeling the awkwardness creep in. "I mean, do you... want me to...?" You trailed off, unable to meet his gaze.
Jake reached over and gently tipped your chin up so you had to look at him. His expression wasn’t teasing this time, but soft, almost tender.
"I don’t need you to do anything," he said, his voice steady. "Tonight was about you. I wanted to make sure you felt good. That’s enough for me."
You blinked, a little thrown by how sincere he sounded. "Really?"
He nodded, leaning back and letting his arm settle across your shoulders again. "Really," he said, the hint of a smile still tugging at his lips. "But I appreciate the offer. Makes me feel pretty special."
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that broke through. "You’re impossible."
"Yeah, but you like me anyway," he quipped, his grin widening as you shook your head and settled back against his shoulder.
The room fell into a quiet lull, the kind that was filled with comfort rather than awkwardness. Jake’s arm rested across your shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing circles along your arm. You let your head rest against him, but the words you’d been mulling over stuck in your throat.
Finally, you worked up the courage to look up at him, your voice soft, almost hesitant. "Jake?"
"Hmm?" He turned his head slightly, his green eyes meeting yours.
"Can I..." You paused, nervousness creeping in, but you pushed forward. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"
Jake’s grin spread across his face almost immediately, cocky but somehow still sweet. "Where else would you sleep?"
You shrugged, suddenly feeling shy under the weight of his gaze. "I don’t know. The couch maybe..."
Before you could finish the thought, Jake leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and warm, pulling you right back into the ease of being with him. When he pulled away, his grin had softened into something tender, something that made your heart skip a beat.
"You can sleep with me every night," he murmured, his fingers brushing another stray piece of hair from your face.
Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you just smiled, leaning into him as his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer. In that moment, the thought of waking up next to Jake every morning didn’t feel so crazy after all.
* * * *
The morning light streamed through the blinds, coaxing you awake. Your head throbbed faintly—a mild reminder of the last beer you probably shouldn’t have had. Blinking against the sunlight, you looked around, disoriented for a moment. This wasn’t your apartment.
And then it all came back. Last night. Jake bringing you home. The teasing, the kissing, the way he had pulled you close and told you that you could sleep with him every night. The memories brought a mix of warmth and guilt as you realized just how many lines of friendship you had crossed in a single evening.
Sitting up, you glanced over at the other side of the bed, half expecting Jake to still be there. But his side was empty, the covers slightly rumpled. You pushed them off and padded out of the bedroom, your bare feet cold against the hardwood.
As you stepped into the living room, you froze in place, utterly speechless at the sight before you.
Jake was lying on the floor, one arm propped up to support his head, his body stretched out lazily. He was barefoot, in jeans that fit a little too well, no shirt, and a Stetson cowboy hat perched on his head.
Your mouth opened, then closed, your brain short-circuiting. You weren’t sure whether to laugh, blush, or scold him for how ridiculous he looked—and how ridiculously good he looked at the same time.
“What,” you finally managed, “are you doing?”
Jake’s lips curved into that signature smirk of his, the one that always got him into trouble and, apparently, you as well. “What does it look like? Tall, hot, in a Stetson. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Your jaw dropped as you remembered your flippant comment from the night before, and a laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it. “Are you serious right now?”
He stood up in one smooth motion, the hat still perfectly in place as he strolled toward you. “I’m Texan, darlin’. Born and raised. Owning a Stetson is a right of passage.”
You shook your head, laughing harder now as he stopped in front of you. “You’re ridiculous.”
He leaned down, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Ridiculous enough to make you laugh this hard first thing in the morning?”
“Yeah, well…” You tried to form a witty comeback, but the way he was looking at you—half playful, half something much softer—made your words catch in your throat.
Jake’s smirk softened into a smile as he tilted his head closer. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, before leaning in to kiss you.
And just like that, the absurdity of the morning melted away, leaving only the feel of his lips on yours and the flutter in your chest that you weren’t quite ready to name.
Jake’s hands slid to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your knees weak, and you swore you felt his smirk against your mouth when your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders for balance.
Without breaking the kiss, Jake’s fingers tightened slightly on your hips, and he murmured, “Jump.”
You hesitated for only a fraction of a second before doing as he asked. His hands were steady as they guided you, and your legs wrapped around his waist naturally. He held you effortlessly, the warmth of his skin against your thighs making your breath hitch.
“You’re way too good at this,” you whispered against his lips, your voice teasing but a little breathless.
Jake pulled back just enough to flash you that cocky grin you knew all too well. “Darlin’, I was born good at this.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. Then, just like that, he was moving, carrying you down the hallway as though you weighed nothing.
The hat was still perched on his head, slightly tilted from your movements, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You’re seriously keeping the hat on?”
He glanced at you with a raised brow, that grin still firmly in place. “You said tall, hot, in a Stetson. I’m just giving the lady what she wants.”
“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, but your words were swallowed by another kiss as he carried you into the bedroom.
Jake lowered you onto the bed with care, the playful edge giving way to something more deliberate, more intense, as he hovered over you. His green eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the room felt still, the air between you charged with something electric.
“Guess that makes me your cowboy now,” he said softly, his voice low and teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity there that made your chest tighten.
And before you could respond, his lips were back on yours, and nothing else mattered.
Jake kissed you with a hunger that sent a spark straight through you. His hands slid up your thighs, the warmth of his palms setting fire to your skin as he pressed you into the mattress. The Stetson, still sitting askew on his head, was the perfect blend of ridiculous and sexy, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing softly against his lips.
“What’s so funny, darlin’?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach flip.
You reached up, plucking the hat off his head, and twirled it in your fingers with a smirk. “Just trying to decide if this thing makes you hotter… or if it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”
Jake chuckled, pulling back slightly, his weight still braced above you. “Go on then, put it on. Let’s see if you can pull it off.”
Your eyes narrowed playfully, accepting the challenge. Sliding the Stetson onto your head, you tilted it just slightly, giving him a mock-serious look. “How do I look?”
Jake’s gaze darkened instantly, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Like trouble,” he drawled.
The heat in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Emboldened by the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted—you took a deep breath and gave his chest a small push. Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but he rolled to his back without protest, his hands guiding you along with him until you were straddling his hips.
His smirk grew as he settled beneath you, his hands resting on your waist. “This what you had in mind?” he asked, his tone a teasing challenge.
You didn’t give him time to comment further before you rolled your hips slowly, teasing him. You reached down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt that you had slept in and quickly slid it off, leaving you completely bare. You reach for the hat that had been knocked off and carefully placed it back on your head.
Jake groaned, his head falling back for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, darlin’.”
“Am I?” you teased, leaning forward just enough that the brim of the hat shadowed your face, leaving him staring up at you like you’d stolen all the air from his lungs.
Jake’s hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your ribs as he guided your movements. “You’re wearin’ nothin’ but my hat and lookin’ like that,” he muttered, his voice low and ragged.
You laughed softly, but your amusement quickly faded as the heat between you grew. The way his hands moved over you—possessive yet gentle—was making it impossible to keep the pace slow.
As you shifted and leaned forward again, Jake reached up, tipping the brim of the hat slightly. “You’re somethin’ else,” he said softly, his green eyes locked on yours.
For once, the cockiness was gone from his voice, replaced with a raw honesty that left you breathless. You didn’t respond, couldn’t, as you captured his lips again and let the heat between you consume every other thought.
The heat between your bodies was electric, every touch and movement sending sparks skittering across your skin. You shifted slightly, lifting your hips just enough to position yourself over him. Jake’s breath hitched, and his hands instinctively gripped your thighs, steadying you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Your eyes locked with his, and the teasing glint in his green gaze had softened into something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he let his hands glide up your sides, the warmth of his palms grounding you as you slowly sank down onto him.
A shuddered groan escaped Jake’s lips, and you couldn’t hold back the small gasp that left yours. The sensation was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just physical—it was the way he looked at you, like you were something precious, something he wanted to memorize with every touch.
Jake sat up slightly, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as your breaths mingled. For a moment, neither of you moved. The intimacy of it, the closeness, was almost too much to bear. His thumbs traced small circles against your skin, grounding you in the moment.
When you finally began to move, it was slow, deliberate, like the two of you were trying to savor every second. Jake’s lips found yours, and the kiss was anything but hurried. It was deep, consuming, a perfect match to the rhythm you’d set. His hands explored your back, your sides, your hips, mapping every inch of you like he never wanted to forget.
As the pace quickened, so did the intensity. Jake’s lips left yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver racing through you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you tipped your head back, surrendering completely to the moment.
His grip on your waist tightened, and his lips found the hollow of your throat. Every movement between you spoke louder than words ever could—the way his hands caressed you, the way your body arched into his, the way his lips lingered on your skin like he couldn’t get enough.
This wasn’t just a fleeting moment, and you could feel it in the way he held you. He wasn’t just here for now—he was here for you, wholly and completely. And though neither of you spoke, the weight of that realization settled between you, amplifying the passion that had consumed you both.
As the rhythm between you grew more urgent, Jake leaned back, letting his head hit the pillow as his hands guided your hips. His eyes were locked on you, full of heat and awe, like he couldn’t believe you were real. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Your gaze softened as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The way he looked at you, touched you, kissed you—it was like he was unraveling every fear you’d ever had about being vulnerable, about letting someone in.
When the moment finally crested, your head fell forward, your lips finding the crook of his neck as he held you close, his hands splayed against your back to steady you. You stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, neither of you willing to pull away.
Jake’s fingers brushed over your spine, his touch gentle as your breathing began to slow. He tilted his head to press a soft kiss to your temple, and you felt the tension in his body ease as he cradled you against him.
No words were spoken, but they weren’t needed. Everything you felt, everything he felt—it was all there, in the way he held you, in the way you lingered against him, unwilling to let the moment end.
The silence in the room was peaceful, broken only by the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets. Jake’s hand skimmed lazily along your back, his touch soothing and warm as you rested against his chest. For a moment, you both just lay there, content in the afterglow of everything that had passed between you.
But of course, Jake couldn’t let the moment stay quiet for too long. His fingers danced lightly along your spine, and you felt his chest rumble with a low chuckle.
“So,” he drawled, his tone laced with that familiar cocky edge, “was it everything you imagined it would be? Or do you need another round for comparison purposes?”
You let out a soft laugh, lifting your head to look at him. His grin was downright smug, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, even as your lips tugged into a smile. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered for what felt like the tenth time since you arrived at Jake's place last night, propping yourself up on one elbow.
Jake smirked, clearly unbothered by your comment. “Ridiculous, maybe, but you like it.”
“Debatable,” you teased, your tone light and playful as you reached up to brush a strand of hair out of your face.
His grin only widened, and he gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Hey, I don’t blame you for falling for the whole ‘hot guy in a Stetson’ thing. Happens to the best of ‘em.”
You laughed again, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Mm, maybe,” Jake said, leaning in just enough to brush his lips against yours. “But I think you like me anyway.”
You wanted to argue, to fire back some witty retort, but the softness in his gaze stopped you short. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin as he smiled at you—not his usual cocky grin, but something quieter, more genuine.
“I mean it,” he said softly, his voice carrying none of the teasing from before. “You’re…amazing.”
You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and you dropped your eyes, suddenly shy. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Jake chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Not so bad, huh? I’ll take it.”
You laughed, the sound light and easy as you settled back against him, your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as the playful banter faded into a comfortable silence.
As your eyes began to drift closed, you felt Jake press a kiss to the top of your head, his voice soft and warm as he murmured, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything might just be exactly as it should be.
#Top Gun Hangman#Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction#Top Gun Hangman Fanfic#Jake Seresin#Jake Seresin Fanfiction#Jake Seresin Fanfic#Jake Hangman Seresin#Jake Seresin x reader#Hangman x reader#Jake Seresin Smut#Jake Hangman Seresin Smut#Jake Seresin x Reader Smut
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Dipper sighed as he felt another pen crack between his molars. Great, Mabel was definitely going to make fun of him for the ink stains on his mouth when she got home. He could hear it now, Wow Dipper, I knew you were a nerd, but I didn't know if I left you alone you'd start kissing your homework.
Dipper sighed and threw the pen into the trash with the other three he'd already snapped. It wasn't fair - he spent the whole summer fighting monsters and saving the world, why did he have to learn the stupid Great Depression's effect on American Literature or whatever. He glanced at the calendar. Only a little over a month until winter break. Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford had promised to try and make it back to Gravity Falls so they could host the twins for the holidays. Sure, they had only been on the open ocean for a couple of months, but the two of them decided it would probably be best to start with a shorter trip then build up from there. After all, despite their age, they were still rookies. Besides, there was nothing on the sea that would help jog Stan's memory other than Great Uncle Ford's questioning. Being on home soil would hopefully bring back some more of Stan's forgotten past.
Dipper's phone pinged. He frowned. That shouldn't happen. He had his phone on Do Not Disturb so he could finish studying. The only alerts that would still pass through were texts from Mabel, Grunkle Stan, or Great Uncle Ford. Mabel never texted when she was out with her friends, and it's not like there was a lot of cell reception out at sea. Curiosity peaked, Dipper unlocked his phone.
It was Stan. More specifically, Stan's boots on the deck of the boat. It was a video, and before Dipper could press play, three little dots appeared indicating Stan was typing. Dipper sat back and waited. It usually took Grunkle Stan awhile to type out his messages. He always blamed the too small phone screen, saying it wasn't designed for fat fingers and cataracts.
What does this mean?
Dipper frowned at the message. Was he asking Dipper to decode a message? Why wouldn't he just ask Great Uncle Ford? Unless...oh gosh was Great Uncle Ford in danger? Did they need help? Why wouldn't he call? Dipper turned his volume up as high as he could, pressing play with a sweaty thumb.
The video started on Stan's boots, but quickly shifted as Stan started pointing his phone at something on the...oh. The wooden planks Dipper had seen Stan standing on weren't the planks of the boat deck, they were floorboards for an outdoor patio. A patio that was full of people speaking...some sort of language. Something Nordic maybe. Geez, weren't they freezing? Maybe not because...Nordic.
The camera was pointed at the door separating the bar from the patio, specifically, the top right corner where a set of speakers had been hung. Oh, Dipper realized. He's trying to record the music. Dipper held the phone to his ear. Maybe Stan was trying to figure out a secret code in the lyrics? He was pretty sure he had told Stan all about that day when they saved Wendy from Robbie's horrible music. This sounded a lot different than Robbie's music though. It was way more upbeat and -
...comin' through, that girl is youuuu...
"Oh my God," Dipper groaned, letting his head fall to his desk. Of course. Of course that's what would be playing. Of course a Nordic bar would be blasting Icelandic Pop Sensation BABBA.
Now Stan's message made sense. He had heard the song and felt "The Itching". That's what Stan had taken to calling it when he could feel himself starting to remember something, but needed a little extra help making it make sense. Stan said it was because it felt like an itching in the back of his brain. Dipper was pretty sure he called it that because if he announced he had "an itch that needs scratching" it was always a fifty-fifty toss up as to whether he needed help with a memory or literally wanted someone to help him scratch himself. Sometimes it was both. Either away, Stan got a kick out of how many times he could trick Ford.
Dipper grimaced. Maybe he could get out of this one. After all, Stan doesn't need all of his memories...right? He could forget some of the more embarrassing ones.
It's a song by BABBA. He typed. It's called "Disco Girl." There. The fact Stan's going to know that Dipper can identify the song is embarrassing enough, he doesn't need to remember The Incident.
The three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
Oh. OK.
Dipper sat his phone down. There. That was that. He didn't need to feel guilty about how Stan somehow managed to sound disappointed with two words. Besides, he had homework to do. He was a busy guy. Yep, not gonna think about it.
His phone pinged.
Made me think of you.
Okay. Starting to feel guilty now. Dipper sighed. Even over text message, he could hear the tone of voice Stan would say it in. That tone where he would say something like it was just a careless aside so that you wouldn't think he was taking something seriously, so then you wouldn't take it seriously, so that he could tell himself you didn't take it seriously because you thought he wasn't taking it seriously and not because you don't take him seriously or care about him seriously or -
Dipper frowned. Maybe these English classes were doing something after all. Apparently all of that fictional character analysis made him better at analyzing his uncle.
He could picture Stan now, having already sat his phone face-down on the table, wondering why there was some memory of Dipper that Dipper didn't want to share with him. Oh man, he probably thinks Dipper's tired of helping out with his memories or something.
That's because you heard me sing it once. Dipper wrote. That should be enough to jog Stan's memory a bit.
The three dots. Heard or saw?
Dipper groaned. Maybe Stan was just messing with him. He probably remembered the whole thing and was just trying to get Dipper to regale him with the story again so he could laugh at him.
Whatever. Dipper would be the bigger man.
Both. You walked in on me after I got out of the shower. You really need to learn how to knock, man.
There. That should be enough. Hopefully Stan and Ford will get back on the boat and see a giant Kraken or something equally as awesome so Stan forgets all about this conversation.
He exited out of their message thread and opened up his thread with Great Uncle Ford. Whatever "clever" joke Stan wanted to make at his expense would probably take forever to write. Might as well take advantage of the good cell service while he knows they have it.
Hey! Are you with Grunkle Stan?
Three bubbled appeared. Dipper didn't have to wait long. Ford was a surprisingly quick texter.
Yes, we're exploring the town together. I take it you're the one he's been texting?
Yeah. He had an itch. Nothing crazy, just a song he heard this summer he couldn't remember the name of. Okay, he probably could have told Ford. Especially after learning about the whole Kiss-Bot incident, Dipper's BABBA incident definitely didn't come close. But c'mon, wasn't Dipper allowed to have at least one family member who thought he had a shred of dignity left?
He smiled. Probably not. After all, he was a Pines.
Ah, that explains his behavior then.
Dipper frowned. Behavior? Is he okay?
Oh yes, of course. My apologies if my language was alarming, Stanley says I tend to word things "dramatically". He's simply trying to ask the table next to us if there are any music stores nearby. I didn't realize children still used physical CDs.
Wait. Stan is looking for a music store? Why specifically mention children? Dipper typed slowly, wording his questions as discretely as he could.
Oh? Is Stan looking for a CD?
The bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Dipper frowned. They reappeared.
Disregard my earlier message.
Oh they were definitely up to something. Two could play at that game. You don't live with a professional con man all summer and not learn how to get what you want out of someone.
Okay. Hey, Grunkle Stan showed me a bit of the patio. Can you send a video too? Would be interested in seeing where you are.
Of course. One moment, please.
Dipper sat his phone on his desk while he waited. Realistically, he should be working on his homework while he waits. It's not like he'll be able to focus on anything when Mabel gets home. But, it's not like he can focus on anything now, mind buzzing as much as it is.
After three minutes and fifty-three seconds, Dipper's phone pinged. He grinned and pressed play.
The video started pointing toward the other side of the patio. Made sense, Ford was probably sitting across from Stan at their table. Stan was nowhere to be seen though. He must have stood up to speak to the table next to him. Dipper could see townsfolk sat at their tables in heavy winter coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. Everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations, and while Ford panned slowly across the porch, Dipper recognized another BABBA song playing faintly in the background. The owner must have had a playlist going. There were fairy lights strung up across the porch, street lamps helping illuminate the night. Wherever they were must have been in the middle of some small town, probably no bigger than Gravity Falls.
"Ford!" Grunkle Stan's voice rang out. Dipper quickly held the phone up to his ear again. There was a loud metallic grating sound - probably Grunkle Stan pulling out his chair to sit down again.
"You're never gonna believe it!" Stan sounded excited about something.
"A moment, please, Stan," Ford murmured.
"We don't have to go to the music store! Those people didn't speak English but the guy who runs this place does a little. That internet translator did the rest."
"Google, Stanley."
"Whatever. Anyway, he said he'd sell me the CD he's playing right now when he closes up for the night."
"That's great Stan. Hold on a moment I'm just trying to film this for -"
"Dipper's gonna love this! I think. It's sort of coming back to me. I think that memory he helped me with, I think..."
Stan trailed off. Dipper pulled the phone away from his ear to see if the video had ended, but Ford was still dutifully scanning their surroundings with the camera. It looked like Ford had stood up, holding the phone high above his head to show Dipper the coastline beyond the porch railings.
"I think I told him I was proud of him that day." Stan's confession was quiet. But Stan quiet. Which meant loud enough to be picked up on Ford's camera.
Ford's movement stopped. "You did? Why?"
"Well. I sorta did. I think. He was tryna prove he was 'a man' or whatever, so I told him he was. He stood up for what was right even though no one else agreed with him. And then I think I uh...ripped my shirt off and showed him my chest hair. Maybe I should get him to fill in some of those blanks there."
Ford laughed. "I don't remember it taking much to get you to take your shirt off."
"I'm a gross, old man now, Ford. We'd all prefer if it stayed on."
Ford hummed. "So how much is the CD?"
"Eh, he wants like 500 Kroner."
"Seems overpriced."
"Well it's gonna be free."
Ford sighed. "Stanley..."
"What?" Stan cried indignantly. "He's obviously tryna scam me anyway! Besides, it's worth it. Dipper will love it! It's a CD of a band he likes from Iceland stolen from Iceland. Trust me it'll be worth the -"
All sound stopped. The video had ended. Dipper sat at his desk, a small smile on his face. He had been so worried about Stan remembering one of his more embarrassing moments but...Stan remembered it as a day that Dipper made him proud. Huh.
He exited the video and saw that Ford had sent him another message only a minute after sending the video.
Please disregard that video. Terrible audio quality, I have to retake it.
As Dipper began to type a reply, he saw three bubbles appear. He waited.
I'm going to infer that the delay in your response is because you didn't see my message in time and already viewed the video. My apologies, I forget how strong the audio quality of phone cameras are.
Three more bubbles.
Please act surprised.
Ah well. Dipper had omitted the truth a couple of times tonight. What was one more? He started to type.
Sorry, I was working on my homework while I waited for an answer. Guess I got distracted. Should I not watch the video?
Three bubbles. Ah, I see. Yes, that would be for the best. I'll take another video for you now. In the meantime, keep up the good work!
Dipper sat his phone back down on the table and picked up another pen. Might as well do a little more homework so he wasn't totally lying. But first...
He opened his message thread with Stan.
Need help with anything else?
Nope. Go to bed.
Dipper laughed. There it was. The curmudgeon was back, trying to hide the fact he was a big softie underneath.
It's earlier here you know. If anyone should be in bed, it should be you.
I'm old. I do what I want.
Okay old man. Love you!
Sap.
Dipper snorted and sat down his phone. A moment later, it pinged again. He glanced at the screen and saw it was another message from Stan. It was only two words, but they knocked together like flint and steel, lighting something warm in Dipper's chest.
You too.
AN: A continuation of this! I kind of just want to write a bunch of one shots going with this. Some ideas are brewing!
#i love them being silly okay#when stan gave dipper the cd he definitely was making jokes the whole time#'hey dipper some teen girl dropped this so i picked it up for you before the trash man could'#and dipper will roll his eyes but hug him anyway#and stan will stand there stunned but return the hug anyway#and if he smiles a bit when he hears dipper blasting the music in the shack next summer#whatever#no one's there to see#gravity falls#stanley pines#grunkle stan#stanford pines#grunkle ford#dipper pines#schedule the following#stanuary#stan twins#sea grunks#gravity falls fic
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DADDY DEAREST || CHOI SAN
Genre: Smut
Pairing: San x Fem reader
Word Count: 2.2K
Tags/Warnings: Dilf!San (aged 40), reader is 21 years old, forbidden love kinda, ceo!San, student!reader, daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, blow job, praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, filming sex, jerking off
I've had this in my drafts for months and finally it's coming to life y'all
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar
ENJOY!
You had been eyeing him from across the bar for hours, but he just wouldn't look your way. "Just go up to him," your friend said, "go up to him and flirt with him!" "But what if he's a creep?" "Just send your location if you're going somewhere with him," your friend said before pushing you into the direction of the handsome man sitting at the bar.
Taking a deep breath, you strutted towards him, your stiletto heels clicking on the wooden floor as you did so. You took place on the blue velvet stool next to him and flashed the man a smile, batting your long eyelashes at him. You could tell by the expression on his face he was immediately intrigued by your presence.
"Hi there," he said, turning towards you, "what's a lovely lady like you doing here alone?" You grinned and ordered a martini, tossing your hair back over your shoulder. "Oh, I'm not alone, my friends are in the back." "Ah," the man smiled and gave you a nod. You licked your lips before speaking again. "But I came here to the bar by myself 'cause you looked rather lonely and I figured you must like having some company," you smiled, drinking from the cocktail in your hand. He grinned and turned his body to yours.
''Well, I didn't have anything to do or anyone to come home to so... I figured I'd have a drink here.'' Your ears perked up and you took another sip of your martini. ''No one to come home to, you say?'' You spoke to him with a pout on your rosy lips, your hand gently resting on his. Your fingers traced the veins on the man's hand and you noticed him swallowing thickly.
''That's right... No one to come home to. What about you? You're here to find someone or are you out with your friends because you're tired of your boyfriend?'' he grinned. You laughed and shook your head. ''No, my boyfriend's an ass so I dumped him this morning. That's what he deserves for dipping his pen in the company ink if you know what I mean,'' you sighed. ''Oh, so you're here to look for a rebound, I get it,'' he smirks. ''I'm San, by the way.'' ''Nice to meet you San, I'm Y/N,'' you said, batting your eyes at him.
This flirting game wasn't new to you. You knew just what to do to make a guy weak but you've never tried an older man before. But after the shit boys your age put you through you're over it, you are ready for someone older. And San looked like the perfect guy for it.
You sat and talked with San for nearly the entire night. You found out he's double your age and he's a CEO of a big skincare company. He laughed loudly when you told him you couldn't live without the brand. ''Well what if I'd give you products for free?'' he grinned. ''Oh, you would?'' ''Well, you're too pretty to say no to.'' ''So you'll say yes to whatever I ask of you?'' He smiled and rolled his eyes, his hand landing on your exposed knee. ''Probably. I'm a sucker for those eyes of yours, cannot take my own of them.''
''So, if I ask you to take me home tonight...'' ''I would in a heartbeat, my darling.'' You smirked as his fingers traveled up your thigh. ''You'd treat me better than my stupid ex-boyfriends, wouldn't you?'' ''Oh baby I would, you have no idea.'' You smirked and took his hand in yours. ''Then take me home and show me.''
Only 15 minutes later you signed to your friends you'd be leaving and you made your way to his huge luxury apartment nearby. You couldn't believe your eyes when you got in, seeing the gorgeous interior San had. Before you could say anything his lips were on yours.
San's lips were so soft and they moved skillfully. He wasn't sloppy or too harsh but perfect. This is what you needed; a man who knew what he was doing. All your ex lovers were just doing whatever, not really caring about your pleasure, but San was seemingly different.
His hands roamed your body and zipped down your dress, which fell down to pool at your ankles. You were left in the lacy lingerie set you put on earlier that night and you noticed the way San stared at you after breaking your kiss.
Your hands worked on his white shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as you could while you were stumbling through the hall, on the way to his bedroom. You nearly tore his shirt off and San took off his belt in the process, the metal buckle clashing against the floor tiles. It was a struggle to move through the apartment while keeping on stealing kisses.
Finally when you got to the bedroom he took off his pants and laid down on the large bed. You smirked and laid on top of him, connecting your lips together once more.
San's hands roamed your ass and squeezed it every now and then, while his tongue explored your mouth. Your hands ran across his toned chest and arms and his chiseled abs. He was absolutely to die for, looking like a Greek God in his 40s.
You started to grind your crotch against his, awakening the cock that was still hid by his underwear. He moaned into your mouth and fidgeted with your bra-clasp before undoing it and throwing it to the other side of the room. You sat up and threw your hair back, licking your lips while looking into his eyes seductively.
"God, baby girl you have no idea what you're doing to me," he grunted as you moved your crotch over his once again. His hands traveled from your waist up to your breasts to cup them. "You're perfect," he breathed out, starting to massage your boobs. "You should come closer so I can have them in my mouth."
A smirk played on your lips as you did so, crawling above him until your breasts reached his face. He started to lick and suck on them while his dominant hand found your clothed pussy. He started to rub your folds through your panties, feeling the fabric getting wet at his touch.
You whimpered above him, clenching your needy pussy around nothing. "You're so wet for me," San said before circling your nipples with his tongue. "Yes, daddy, for you," you moaned. The older man laid you down and took off your wet panties.
Immediately you spread your legs for him, awakening a hungry look in his eyes. San laid between your legs and slid his fingers through your wet folds, moaning at the feeling. "Bet you've missed looking at a young, tight pussy like mine," you teased him with a breathy laugh. "Oh, I sure did. Look at this perfect wet pussy," he grunted, licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit, "Perfectly wet for me, ready to be abused."
You let out another whimper as he kept lapping at your pussy. Your hands ran through his raven hair and you pushed his face deeper into your cunt. San's tongue found your entrance and slid his tongue in and out before circling your clit again. He lapped and sucked on your cunt, savouring all the arousal spilling out of you. Your hands fondled and massaged your own breasts.
He focussed on your clit, circling it with his tongue and sucking on it, earning a row of high pitched moans from you. He made you feel sensations you hadn't felt for a long time now and you wanted it to go on and on forever. Your legs locked his body between them, face pushed deep into your soaking heat.
San pushed 2 of his thick fingers into your cunt, pumping them in and out of your hole as his tongue was still flicking against your sensitive clit. It didn't take long before San found a sensitive spot inside you, noticing your reaction to it immediately. Naturally he started to abuse it, hitting it repeatedly as he sucked on your clit.
He didn't pressure you to cum fast, like many other lovers had. San focussed on pleasuring you, not caring how long he had to keep lapping at your clit.
But soon enough you felt a coiling desire for release in your abdomen, your moans growing louder. "D-daddy, daddy I'm coming, c-coming for you," you panted out before releasing and coming undone on his fingers and tongue.
You panted softly before sitting up and pinning the older man down on the bed. Stripped from his clothes he looked beautiful in all his naked glory. His cock was beautiful and large and so thick it made your mouth water at the sight.
You lowered your head into his lap and pressed kisses along his thick shaft before giving the head of his cock soft kitten licks. He groaned softly and you felt your entire body react to it immediately, pussy clenching around nothing. His reactions to you taking him into your mouth made you more eager than ever. You started to bob your head up and down calmly, sucking his hard cock. He grunted beneath you, his breathing getting louder and his eyes rolling back into his head.
''Darling, please-” He moaned as he felt himself hit the back of your throat. You tasted his pre-cum on your tongue and you could tell how close he was lo cumming down your throat. Quickly he pulled you off his cock and watched your face pout in disappointment.
“Don’t want to cum in your pretty mouth while I could also cum in that tight young pussy of yours... Need to fuck you right now angel.”
He pulled you on top of him and you held onto his broad shoulders. Soon enough you sank down on his hardness and you could feel San stretching your poor pussy out. You moaned loudly, looking down and seeing his cock disappear between your thighs.
''You're so pretty and warm babygirl, oh my God, so tight, bet you've never been fucked right,'' he grunted. ''N-No they've never fucked me right, God, I need you, need a real man like you,'' you moaned to butter him up and tease him even more.
''Bet your boyfriend wishes he was inside you right now. How did he make you feel Y/N? Did he fuck you as good as this? Like I can?'' he grunted while he fucked up into you, his hands groping your ass and thighs. ''N-No, fuck, his cock was too small, d-didn't feel anything, you make me feel everything, San, fuck me harder daddy, please!''
While San pounded into you from beneath he also took your phone. ''Unlock it. Let's make that bastard who hurt you jealous. Wanna make him miserable for wasting such a pretty girl's time.'' You unlocked your phone and handed it back over to San.
You leaned back, displaying your naked body while you moaned loudly. San started to film you getting your cunt pounded by him and you might've been acting a little extra pornographic for the video but San didn't mind. Even though he didn't know the guy he desperately wanted to claim you and make him lose his mind.
''That's right baby, take my cock, you're taking it so well, huh?'' ''Y-Yes daddy, fuck, love your cock so much, you're gonna make me cum!''
Right then he turned the camera off and tossed the phone onto the bed, fucking into you even harder. ''That small-dicked idiot will never get to see you cum again. You're just gonna cum on my cock now, won't you?''
''Yes, yes please I wanna cum on your cock, yes!'' you cried out. In a matter of a few thrusts you came undone on his thick cock. You moaned loudly and your body shook as the orgasm came over you. San pulled you off his cock and laid you down, hovering above you before fisting his own cock.
With a loud moan he spurted his cum over your abdomen, painting you white. ''Fuck, daddy,'' you moaned softly. ''That's my good girl,'' San smirked.
After the both of you came down from your highs he got a cold, moist towel and cleaned you up nicely before placing his blanket over you. You snuggled into it and closed your eyes, but whined when he got up. ''Stay with me,'' you mumbled softly, feeling sleepy but also cuddly.
San smiled and laid down. It conflicted with his morality, sure, sleeping with a 21-year old was already a bit over the line but actually sleeping and cuddling with one, wanting to date one... Was that okay?
Luckily you knocked those thoughts right out of his head when you laid on his chest, drifting off to sleep. He soon did the same, dreaming of eating your pussy the next morning when he'd wake up.
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the bond between us eddie munson x female reader
Summary: You go back to the town you had to leave to go to university, but the town wasn't the only thing you left behind, you go to the place you least want to be for a date and there you run into your ex-boyfriend Eddie Munson. ao3 link Words: 5,147 Warnings: bleeding, injury part one | part two (completed)
Looking from the outside, the Hideout bar in the small town of Hawkins was a place that had seen better days. The wooden facade, a sign hanging down from the weight of the snow, and the red paint peeling at the corners. Near the door, a dull yellow neon sign flickered “Hideout” in a dull flash of light.
When you stepped inside, the nostalgic and somewhat sad atmosphere of this place immediately hit you in the face. The smell of tobacco permeated the place, combined with the slight creak of walking on the old wooden floors. A few bare lamps hanging from the ceiling provided a warm but insufficient light.
The long wooden bar counter behind the stools was blackened with time, the surface streaked with water rings left by glasses. On the walls hung a few faded rock posters and plaques of pool champions from a local tournament.
A few silent alcoholics were seated at tables in the corner, drinking their glasses down. With their worn coats and tired expressions on their faces, they seemed in no hurry to spend another winter evening here. A homeless man sat at the back table, slowly puffing on a cigarette and watching the snowflakes flutter outside the window. A few people gathered around the pool table, joking and waiting for the next game. A group of people were sprawled on stools, raising their cheap beers in the air, smiling at each other and chatting. Some of them turned to the stage, staring at the microphones placed next to the guitar amps as if waiting for the next performance.
You took a deep breath, sat down on one of the stools and looked at the clock on the wall behind the bartender who was wiping the glasses with a clean cloth. It was almost seven in the evening, less than ten minutes before the date was due to start.
You smiled and shook your head at the bartender who asked if you wanted something to drink. “I'm waiting for someone,” you replied shortly. You were feeling a little uneasy, being here of all places to meet made you feel uneasy. In fact, just being back in this town made you uneasy in itself.
You remembered the day you left this damn town to go to university. You had to leave not only this place, but the love of your life. Eddie.
Now you had graduated and you were back home. For the first few weeks you spent time at home with your family, you spent every evening with them, as if to make up for all the times you couldn't see your friends. You always felt like asking about Eddie, but you preferred to keep it inside. You thought that if you ever got the chance, you might mention his name in conversation, or that your friends would mention him.
They said he'd been dating a girl for a while, and I think you heard that after he broke up with her, he hadn't been around much. He never went to college, he was still living with his uncle in the trailer park, he was fixing cars and Steve said he was pretty good at it.
The first thing you asked was, “Does he still play guitar?'' Robin was the one who answered that question.
“He hasn't touched it since you left...''
This sentence was like a flame burning your throat, preventing you from swallowing. “What about his dreams? He was going to leave this damn town to make records, to become a famous guitarist like his dream...'' You couldn't put the thoughts that came to your mind into words. Because you knew the answer.
And deep down inside, you knew your friends blamed you for leaving Eddie when you left. But they were too nice to tell you that.
But what else could you do? You both knew a long-distance relationship wouldn't work.
Having to break up with Eddie was like a wound in the center of your chest that still wouldn't heal. It seemed like a simple “obligation” to everyone else, but only you and Eddie knew how complicated it really was. Going to university was a dream, your dream... but it was also an inevitable path, shaped by your family's pressure. It seemed the only way out of this town, the only way to make a future for yourself. Eddie, on the other hand, had never felt like he belonged in the world outside Hawkins. He had grown up in the trailer park, learned about life with his uncle, and even his dreams had been shaped within the confines of this town. His dream was to become a famous guitarist, yes, maybe that was just a fantasy for him. A dream he knew he would never achieve.
He discussed it with you for hours. “You're leaving me here,” he once said, his voice cracked, his eyes full of sadness mixed with anger. “I don't belong in your world and you don't belong in mine. You'll understand that better when you go to university.” At that moment you couldn't fight him with the words that were stuck in your throat. Because he was right. Eddie was living a very different life, one that could never coincide with your career goals. While you'd be in the campus libraries, full of books, he'd be fixing old cars in the grease-smelling workshops of Hawkins.
But what hurt the most was watching Eddie quietly give up on his dreams. “We can find a way out together,” you said, almost pleadingly. But Eddie shook his head from side to side, averting his eyes as his hair fell over his face.
“My place is here. Your place is... somewhere else. It would consume us both, you know that.” His sarcastic tone, always taking things for granted, was gone. It was replaced by the voice of a tired, accepting man.
Eddie said he couldn't imagine you every morning in another city, in another life. “How can distance be enough when even Hawkins isn't enough?” he said, smiling bitterly.
You knew in your heart as you left him behind: The separation wasn't just a physical distance. When you left Eddie that night, you took a part of him with you forever. And Eddie had done the same.
So what were you doing at the Hideout now? Yes, you were waiting for your first date with a guy named Josh, but you wondered why it had to be here. When Josh suggested to meet there, you couldn't say no, because what were you going to explain to him, “My ex-boyfriend used to play there all the time, and even though he doesn't play there anymore, I'm not over him, so that bar has a special meaning for me, I can't go there”? That would be the worst impression you could give on a first date.
You turned around slowly as you heard someone calling your name, that familiar voice bringing a familiar face with it. It was Gareth, Eddie's friend from the band and the matchmaker who made you two become a couple in the first place. Seeing him here made your heart race, you thought, if he's here maybe... maybe. The possibility that because he was here, Eddie might be around here somewhere made your stomach twist in knots.
You put a warm smile on your face and hugged Gareth, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out of town,” Gareth said as he hugged you back.
''Yeah, I've been back for a couple weeks now. I uhm, graduated,” you explained. Your eyes were scanning the bar quickly, the mere thought of Eddie being here made you want to throw up from anxiety.
“I'm glad to hear that,” Gareth said as he sat down on the stool next to you. ”So, what's up? Where are your friends, are you waiting for someone?''
You nodded as you took a sip of water. “Actually, I have a date, I'm waiting for him,” you said, and it felt like you had been punched in the stomach, like it was a crime to say that. You thought Gareth would be angry about it, after all you had caused his friend to be miserable for months. But it had been years, hadn't it?
Gareth nodded his head as if to say he understood and smiled. “Alright, I'll be on stage in a bit, nice to see you again, hope you have a good time on your date.'' After patting you on the shoulder, he took the beer the bartender handed him and walked away from you.
Looking after Gareth, you took a deep breath and began tapping your fingers nervously on the surface of the table.
Just then, the cold air hit you in the face as the door opened and a man stepped into the bar, wearing a brown leather jacket and an expensive scarf that looked like it had been bought in a luxury store. His blond hair was styled like something out of a hairdresser's advertisement and his bright blue eyes looked arrogantly around him. It was him. Josh. Even before he said his name, you knew who he was.
When Josh noticed you, he walked over with a wide smile, as if he was the only one lighting up the room he was in... or so he thought. “Hey, you're just in time, too!” he said, his voice filled with a squeaky cheerfulness.
“Yeah,” you said, with a forced smile, ”I've been here a few minutes.”
Josh made an almost implicit gesture for you to get up from the stool. “Great, great. Let's move over there, the light's a little too bright here. I'll find you a better seat.” Before you could understand what he was saying, he placed his hand lightly on your back and guided you to a darker corner of the bar.
Josh gestured exaggeratedly to the waiter as he sat on the opposite stool. “Two margaritas for us! But please... make sure you cut the lemons right. I had a very bad experience at a bar last time.” His tone was more like a lecture than an order. It was impossible not to notice the patient but obviously irritated expression on the waiter's face.
“Well, actually I don't want a margarita, a water will do for now,” you said, interrupting his arrogant order. Josh cocked his head to the side and looked at you as if you had said something strange.
“Water? God, you can't be serious,” he said with a mocking laugh. “Relax, we're not here to party, but we can make the first date count, right? Tell me, are you having any fun?”
For a moment lightning flashed in your head. You had already gotten annoyed with him from the very first sentence. How could he be so cocky? You crossed your arms on the table and stared at him, inwardly looking for ways to escape.
“Yeah, I don't usually have to drink to have fun,” you said, a little teasingly. Josh took it as a joke and tried to laugh, but even his laugh was insincere.
“Oh, okay. I think you're serious. You know, people usually find me extremely funny. I mean, not just because of my looks,” he said, smoothing his hair with his hand. “I guess you've noticed that too.”
“Sure, I noticed,” you mumbled, but your eyes were searching for Gareth and the others without realizing it. You felt like you were going crazy if you spent any more time with this man.
As he talked, it was like a part of your soul was dying, you could have been on the most boring date in the world.
“I mean,” Josh continued, twisting the lemon wedge in his hand, ”Hawkins is a small town, isn't it? I hate being here. Imagine, people are born and raised here and never get out. I think you were born and raised here too, weren't you?”
With that sentence, his discomfort grew. Eddie's face involuntarily flashed before your eyes. You knew that Eddie had always felt inadequate because of people like Josh. Instead of answering him, you kept silent, because if you opened your mouth, the anger you were trying to hide behind your words would show.
Just then Gareth's voice was heard on stage. “Okay everyone, tonight we're going to get a little nostalgic! We're going to play one of the ‘Corroded Coffin’ songs. You used to be with us every Tuesday at Hawkins. Maybe some of you will remember our songs and sing along, who knows?”
Gareth's voice pulled you back to the real world. In the dim lights of the bar, you suddenly stopped breathing. Your heart's beating like crazy. If Gareth was on stage... Eddie.
Gareth gripped the sticks of his drum kit and sat on the drum seat, you knew the other members of the band, you had spent enough time with each of them. Eddie and the others used to go on that stage when you were still here and with him. You always watched them from the front. You listened to Eddie playing his guitar, looking into your eyes, as if you were the only one there.
But now Eddie wasn't on stage... And it felt like something was missing. Like something was wrong, like the last piece of the puzzle was missing.
Josh continued to talk about himself, as he had for the last hour. You were staring at the stage, listening to the songs you once knew by heart being played again, remembering the lyrics with each note. You remembered how each note made you feel. The whole thing was passing before your eyes like a movie, and when your song started playing, you felt your eyes fill with tears. Everything seemed blurry, everything seemed to feel sorry for you.
You stood up, grabbing your bag. ''I'm sorry Josh... I almost forgot something I had to do... Uhm, I have to go...'' you said.
Josh didn't seem convinced. “Oh, yeah? I can give you a ride... I've got a car outside the door.” he offered.
You shook your head quickly. “No need, I'll go,” you insisted.
“It's cold and the snow is falling faster. I'll give you a ride,” he said as he put a few dollars and a tip on the table and stood up.
“No,” you said shortly.
“Do you really have to go?” he said, this time in a slightly sarcastic tone. “I mean, I put a lot of work into planning tonight, and you could at least be a little... I don't know, grateful for that, right?”
Josh's words froze you in place. Your eyes quickly turned to him. “Grateful? What are you talking about?” you said, your brow furrowed, your tone sharp.
“I mean, after all, I spent my time and energy to get here,” Josh said, spreading his arms wide, putting his arm behind your back and leaning in close enough to press you into your chair. “You need to spend more time with me here. After all, don't you want to get to know me? Or... maybe you're being too coy.”
You were startled when his arm came close enough to pinch you. “Pull your arm away!” you said sternly, but Josh just grinned.
“Oh, come on, don't be so scared. I'm not a bad guy. I brought you here because I thought we could have a nice evening,” he continued. This time his voice was more sarcastic and disturbing.
“Let me go,” you said again, this time sounding more nervous. But Josh took these words as an invitation instead of a threat.
“Let me go? Oh, I see...” he said, leaning closer to your face and gazing into your eyes. “You actually like it, don't you? This little 'coy' game. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm good at figuring out girls.”
Just then, as your whole body froze, a voice from behind you made you hold your breath.
“You're also good at blowing your chances, apparently.”
Someone tapped Josh hard on the shoulder. Josh's expression changed. Frowning, he turned around to meet Eddie's stern gaze. The anger on Eddie's face made it feel icy even inside the bar.
“Who the hell are you?” Josh asked, giving Eddie a condescending look. But Eddie's smile held no warmth; it was more like an approaching storm.
“I'm not an asshole like you, that's for sure,” Eddie said, his voice deep and menacing. Then he turned to you, a soft but worried look in his eyes. “Did he touch you?”
Josh interjected, his voice loud and confident enough to drown out Eddie's question. “This isn't about you, man, leave us alone.”
Instead of answering, Eddie suddenly grabbed Josh by the collar. He easily lifted him off the floor and shoved him hard into one of the bar's tables. The chair tipped over as Josh fell to the floor, several people standing around you recoiled in horror. Eddie leaned over Josh and whispered in a cold voice.
“You will not bother her again. In fact, you will never set foot in this bar again. Do you understand?”
But Josh didn't seem like the type to give up that easily. He put his hand on Eddie's collar and stood up quickly. “You think you're gonna scare me? Get out of the way, you fucking bastard!” he shouted, and then he punched Eddie hard. As the punch connected with Eddie's jaw, the loud thud inside the bar momentarily froze the whole place. A thin trickle of blood trickled down Eddie's lip as he took a few steps back.
But instead of pausing, Eddie became even more enraged by the impact. The rage in his eyes was now uncontrollable. He quickly wiped his cheek and took a step toward Josh.
“I warned you,” Eddie said. There was such determination in his voice that you could see Josh was scared.
Eddie moved quickly and punched Josh hard in the stomach, then, without missing a beat, struck him a second time. This time his fist connected with Josh's jaw and he staggered back to the ground. But Eddie didn't stop. He pounced on him, grabbed him by the collar and delivered another blow to his face. “You're learning the price of bothering a woman,” Eddie said, his voice growing more determined with each blow.
Josh tried to stop Eddie with his hands, but Eddie was giving him no chance. Within seconds, Josh's face was covered in blood. Those inside the bar looked on, horrified by the fight, while Gareth got up from the stage and prepared to try and pull them apart.
Eddie took one last look at Josh's face and pushed him hard to the floor. “If you ever cross me again, I'll make you regret it,” he said.
Josh staggered to his feet. His shirt was soiled, his face bloodied and his pride shattered. “You'll pay for this,” he mumbled, but his voice couldn't hide his fear. He walked quickly to the door and left the bar.
Eddie took a deep breath and sat up. Blood was still seeping from his lip, but he didn't seem to care. When he turned to you, the anger was gone from his gaze, replaced by a familiar warmth.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
You nodded and put your hand over your heart. A few minutes later the waiters were picking up the fallen stools and the chaos inside the bar had slowly subsided. People were back in their seats, chatting, and a few people were still discussing what had happened in whispers.
You turned to Eddie and took a deep breath. The adrenaline was giving way to shame, especially as you felt the stares around you. “Everyone's staring at us,” you muttered, your eyes drifting to the floor.
Eddie shrugged, as if he didn't really care. “Let them look,” he said, smiling slightly. But even the small grin on his face disappeared instantly because of the cut on his lip and he groaned slightly.
Just then Gareth came up to you with an ice pack. There was a slight look of concern on his face as he handed it to you. “Here. That should help a little,” he said. He paused for a moment, turning to Eddie. “I have to get back to the stage, but are you... are you all right?”
Eddie nodded his head as if thanking Gareth and gave a slight smile. “I'm fine. Don't worry.”
Gareth looked at Eddie for a few more seconds, then glanced in your direction, patted him on the shoulder and returned to the stage. Guitars and drums echoed through the bar as the band regrouped and prepared to play. But no longer could they drown out the pounding of your heart.
You gently took the ice pack gently and pressed it to Eddie's bleeding lip. Eddie flinched involuntarily and tried to pull back, but you didn't let go. “Stop,” you said softly. “At least let me take care of this while you put up a big fight for me.”
Eddie's gaze stopped on you, the anger long gone from his eyes. A strange embarrassment had taken its place, but he said nothing. As you cleaned the blood from his lip in silence, you finally couldn't resist and tried to speak. “I didn't know you were here. If I had known...”
Eddie interrupted, trying to avert his eyes from you, but finally he looked at you and took a deep breath. “Wouldn't you have come if you'd known?” he said, his voice more calm and vulnerable than you expected.
You parted your lips to answer, but Eddie kept talking. “I know... I heard you were back in town but I didn't dare to see you. I didn't know what to say, but... I still wanted to see you, so... I watched from a distance.”
Surprised, you put down the ice pack and looked at him. “You watched from a distance?”
Eddie tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I don't want to sound like a stalker,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But yeah. Ever since I found out you were here... I guess I've been following you like a shadow, watching you from a distance, not bothering you. I don't know, maybe I didn't have the courage to see you again. Maybe I thought that if you saw me here... you would run away.”
You felt your heart squeeze at this confession. Eddie's voice was so honest and vulnerable that it was hard to look him in the eye.
You pressed the ice pack to Eddie's lip again and leaned a little closer to him. “Eddie...” you whispered. “Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you come to me? You could have talked to me. I wouldn't have run away.”
Eddie looked you in the eye, but this time he didn't run away. “I don't know. Maybe I didn't think I deserved it. I didn't have anything right to say to you. But... seeing you was enough. Seeing you happy... Anyway, you were telling that idiot that you had to leave... Can I drop you where you're going? I don't want him to get in your way.’’
''Uhm... I made up a lie to get rid of him. But I'd better get back home... It's been a long night.''
The moonlight glinted off the thin layer of snow that had just fallen, and it looked as if the ground was covered in a silver blanket. Eddie was walking a few steps ahead of you, his hands in his pockets as usual, but his shoulders were much broader than they had been. This difference caused your eyes to involuntarily drift to his back and silhouette. You immediately averted your eyes, but you couldn't control where your thoughts were going.
Eddie suddenly stopped and turned his head to look at you. “Are you still cold?” he asked, his voice soft yet protective.
You tried to smile at him, but your lips felt numb from the cold. “No, I'm fine,” you said, but you didn't sound convincing.
Eddie shook his head from side to side, as if expecting this answer. “Let me put this jacket to good use,” he said, and in one motion he took off his leather jacket. You couldn't help but notice the moment when his arm muscles peeled away from his jacket. This whole car mechanic thing... it had definitely worked for him.
When he handed you the jacket, you tried to protest. “But I thought you'd be cold too...”
“Stop arguing with me,” he interrupted, smiling slightly. He gently placed the jacket on your shoulders and straightened the collar. “Do I look like I'm cold?”
He was right. It was impossible not to notice the muscles under his thin black shirt. His shoulders looked wider, his arms thicker and his back stronger. The boy who years ago had played songs on the bar stage with his guitar was now a different man. There was something about Eddie; maybe the years, maybe the hardships he had endured had made him more attractive. But one thing was certain: This man was too good looking for any girl in town to refuse.
“Thank you,” you whispered, inhaling the faint smell of leather and cigarettes in the jacket. Eddie's scent... it filled you with something familiar and nostalgic.
Eddie shrugged, but there was a look on his face that said he was studying you. “If you hadn't gone on dates with idiots like that, you'd be sitting in your warm house and you wouldn't be cold,” he said, his eyes seeming to focus on a point on the horizon, but there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Even if I don't go on dates with idiots like that, I'm still being watched by stalkers somehow, right?” you said, tilting your head and mocking him slightly.
Eddie threw his hands up in the air. “I never watched your house. I'm not that kind of stalker, okay?” he said, the sarcasm in his voice a little defensive.
And then he continued. “Besides, you're lucky I was there. I don't want to watch stupid Josh get in your way again. He'll probably lose more teeth next time.”
You started laughing too, but at the same time you felt grateful that he was making such an effort to protect you. Eddie continued to walk beside you, occasionally glancing at you to make sure everything was all right.
“By the way,” he added after a while, ”it's all his fault that guy treated you the way he did. The way he spoke to you... It was unacceptable. If he tries to get close to you again, he'll find more than me.”
You felt your heartbeat a little faster at Eddie's protective attitude. Even after all these years, Eddie's devotion to you seemed unchanged. It was both frightening and strangely comforting.
When you came to a familiar corner of town, Eddie paused for a moment. “This is it, isn't it?” he said, nodding toward your house.
“Yes,” you said, nodding slightly. But you didn't want to say goodbye to him. There was something in you that wished this moment could last longer.
When the door opened, you were a little disturbed by the silence from inside. As you stepped inside you realized that Eddie was still waiting behind you. You turned to look at him and saw a hesitant look on his face.
“Anybody home?” Eddie asked, running a hand through the back of his hair and tugging at a lock of curly hair. It was an indication that he was a little nervous.
You shook your head from side to side. “No, no one's home. My family has been out of town for a few days. It's just me...” Your voice trailed off, but then you gathered your courage and continued. “If you want... you can come in and have a coffee. I mean... it's quite cold outside and you gave me your jacket.”
Eddie cocked his head and gave a light laugh. “I don't know, I don't want to be a bother. I mean... Tonight was weird enough...”
“Eddie,” you said, determination in your eyes. “It's just a coffee. Nothing weird. And... seriously, I'm not going to leave you out after you've helped me so much.”
Eddie hesitated for a few seconds, then shrugged and stepped through the doorway. “Okay, but just a coffee. I promise I won't bother you any more.”
“The kitchen is this way,” you said with a slight smile as you led him towards the kitchen.
Eddie was leaning against a corner near the counter, and you were putting the kettle on for the coffee. “Still drinking it with sugar?” you asked, your eyes flicking to his face for a moment.
Eddie smiled. “More of this 'do you drink with sugar' talk? You still don't recognize me?”
You laughed, this familiar conversation had taken you back to warmer and happier times in the past. Just as you reached for the sugar jar, Eddie bent down to pick up the glasses and your arms collided.
“Oh, sorry,” you said and stepped back slightly, but Eddie moved at the same time and you collided again.
Eddie put on his familiar wry smile. “I guess we're still pretty clumsy, like the old days.”
You rolled your eyes. “Well, it's your fault. You shouldn't have stood so close.”
But Eddie didn't answer. His eyes locked on yours for a moment, then his gaze slowly dropped to your lips. Suddenly the kitchen became a much warmer, much more intimate place. Your heart began to beat faster.
“Eddie...” you whispered, but your voice was barely a breath.
Eddie's hand was resting on the counter, his body pressed a little closer to yours. When his eyes refocused on yours, his expression was mixed. There was both eagerness and a kind of timidity.
“If you want to stop me...” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. “Now is the time.”
But you didn't say anything. In fact, you didn't even know what to say. It was as if everything had stopped; all you heard was your own breathing and Eddie's approaching presence. Your eyes closed involuntarily as you felt his nose touch yours.
Finally... his lips lightly touched yours. It was so gentle that for a brief moment you wondered if it was real. But then Eddie's hand reached around your waist, pulling you to him, deepening the kiss. This kiss carried all the intensity of that moment, all the longing, all the emotions that had been hidden for years.
Your fingers involuntarily gripped the hem of Eddie's shirt. As you inhaled deeply, his scent - the faint smell of cigarettes, his leather jacket and that timbre you had always recognized - completely overtook you. For a moment the world was just that moment.
#joseph quinn#joe quinn#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#jealous eddie#stranger things#stranger things fic#eddie munson fics#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fluff#protective eddie
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a movie i've seen before
pairing. bang chan x f!reader
type. angst (-y ish?), not requested
warnings. f!reader, none
word count. 2.3k
a/n. i have been working on this for quiiiite some time now and i feel so nervous to finally post it!! this will be a series of max 4 parts, i really really hope you guys will like it and if anyone is interested to be in a tag list for this pls just lemme know, hope you’ll enjoy mwah xxx
big fat huge DISCLAIMER: i have nothing against idols dating and i sure hope for them that they do if they want to!!! but for the sake of this story none of the boys have had a huge dating experience. i also do know its probably very unlikely that someone working on the staff could date any of them but like... chill its just fiction :)
part II part III
You remember with great detail your first day working at JYP Entertainment and the first time you met him.
It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was shining bright in the blue sky. The wind was soft and warm as it whirled around you, carrying a sweet lilac scent. You were nervous but oh so excited. A warm feeling grew in your body as you walked confidently to the big windowed building. It was your first day as a communication and social relations intern at JYP Entertainment, one of the most successful idol companies. You remember walking through the big doors, mesmerized by the environment surrounding you. You walked to the front desk, presented yourself, and politely asked for directions. The receptionist bowed and lifted a finger in the air, signaling she would be free in a short moment. You honestly did not mind waiting. It gave you more time to appreciate the fancy interior of your future place of work. Your idle admiration halted when you noticed him standing next to you.
He wore a black cap, a face mask, and a cross-body bag hung on his shoulder. He was wearing black sweats with a black cardigan.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help but hear you are a new worker for JYP Entertainment. I'm also heading that way. I'll show you," he suggested with a polite smile.
You followed him to the elevator, to the 10th level of the building, and only stopped when you were facing a massive dark wooden door. He wished you good luck before promptly leaving. You watched him as he disappeared around the corner and tried to make sense of the interaction you just had. He was very polite and asked a few questions about your new position. His voice seemed familiar although you couldn't pinpoint its owner. The easy going conversation he provided helped you calm down and think of something else, which was very welcome in your situation. With a deep breath, you focused on the purpose of your visit and knocked.
"Y/n, you should pay for the meal since we've done such a great job at the last event!" screamed an overexcited Han, heavily supported by Changbin.
You were in a small bar with Minho, Hyunjin, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. You decided to go for a celebratory night out to highlight a few successes you had collected. It had been a year since that famous day you first stepped into the JYP entertainment building. Long gone was the stress, the discomfort, and the hesitation. Ever since that first day, you became a valued member of the Stray Kids staff. Your ability to speak three languages, various degrees, and experiences in human resources and public relations secured you a place in the team. Your three-month internship quickly evolved to a six-month one until they offered you a contractual job. Today, you finally got a permanent position as the assistant manager of Stray Kids, and you felt like your heart might explode with joy.
"I'm the one who just got the job. Shouldn't you be paying for me? Plus, it will be much less expensive," you argued teasingly. Honestly, you could care less if you had to pay for that crazy bunch or even the whole bar. YOU HAD GOTTEN THE JOB!!!
"I wouldn't say that. You eat as much as all eight of us," countered Changbin with an annoyed pout. Everybody around the small table laughed at his comment, knowing he wasn't lying.
"Hey! We will pay for Y/n. She deserves it. Congratulations on the job! Please eat and drink as much as you want." Finally settled Felix with a smile.
They all cheered for you before putting various plates and drinks in your hands. You laughed until your cheeks cramped, and you felt like you would never catch your breath. The night was merry and joyful. You felt so grateful for these amazing people you now had the chance to call friends. Still, your happiness could not be complete with the missing presence of one of the members. You swallowed back your disappointment and focused on the people surrounding you.
After your meal, you all went to the dorms to continue your celebration in a more private setting. Upon your arrival, you noticed Chan still wasn't home. You couldn't help a sharp pain from piercing through your stomach. But once again, you ignored it, put on some comfortable clothes, and joined the loud boys in the common room.
"Has anyone seen Chan hyung?" asked Jeongin as he settled on the couch between Hyunjin and Han.
"I think he's still in the studio," answered Felix with a side look in your direction. You acted as if you didn't notice, even if you weren't fooling him.
The group decided to play a game of truth or dare. Faithful to Stray Kids' brand, the game was incredibly chaotic. The questions were steamy, and the dares were very challenging. For example, when Changbin was dared to lick Minho’s foot, to both their utmost horror. The group erupted in screams when Changbin dramatically pulled Minho’s sock before barely darting out his tongue on the dancer's foot. It was your turn once everybody calmed down, and Binnie washed his tongue with soap.
"Truth or dare?" he asked.
"Truth," you responded without hesitation. "After what I've just seen, I'm way too scared to do a dare." The boys giggled as your buff friend thought about a question to ask.
"Is it true you once talked back to JYP?" He cautiously asked. You rolled your eyes at the question you should have been expecting.
"I'm not sure if I should tell the truth..." You hesitated.
"Oh! Oh! If you're not sure, it means it's true!" screamed Han with a finger pointed at you. You hid your face with embarrassment before you resigned.
"I will neither deny nor confirm this rumor. But I will say, JYP makes a funny face when he realizes he's wrong," you added mischievously. Your answer was all it took for the group to burst into chaotic excitement once more.
"Now, my turn. Hyunjin, truth or dare?" he answered the first, probably also traumatized from Bin's dare. You fidgeted with your fingers before speaking. "Between the eight of you, who would you say has the most dating experience?"
The group of boys fell silent for a second before exploding with laughter. Out of all their possible reactions you had not been expecting that one.
"What? I didn't know that was such a humorous question," you asked, surprised. Han had fallen from the couch and was silently wheezing on the floor.
"Y/n, you're talking to twenty-something boys who have been trainees and idols for most of their young adult lives. Do you think any of us has experience dating?" he answered after catching his breath. His face was still slightly red, and you weren't convinced he wouldn't start laughing again. "We did have a few experiences here and there, but nothing very serious."
You looked around, surprised. It did make sense, but Stray Kids was such a high-energy group. Without mentionning the fact that they were all so handsome, nice and charming human beings. You sincerely thought some of them had had serious partners.
"Our only partners have been STAYS," added Changbin while lifting his glass for a cheer to their loyal fans. The rest of the group nodded accordingly.
"Really? Even Chan?"
This time, your friends all looked at each other with a chuckle.
Minho glanced at you with a suspicious expression. "Why do you ask that?"
You tried to restrain the heat spreading on your cheeks from alerting them of your true intentions. "Well, he is the oldest, and Chan is so... approachable. I thought if someone might have at least a little more experience it's him," you smoothly argued.
"Well, you are wrong. Even if we barely have any, Chan's the worst of us," added Hyunjin with a look around his brothers.
Suddenly bored with the subject, the group picked up on the game again. You observed them silently, so many questions still dancing around your head. The seat next to you bent as Felix joined you with a knowing look.
"So, Bang Chan," he started with his deep voice.
"I was just asking for the game. I swear." Pink colored your cheeks, and this time, you couldn't hide it.
The member who had become one of your best friends stared at you unimpressed. He sighed, "Chan is the worst of us because he never takes time off. You are right. He's approachable, nice, and everything you want, but it never goes past a certain level." He took a moment to think before he continued, "You know how hard Chan works, right?" you nodded. Everybody knew. "And you know how he has a hard time sleeping, how stressed he is, how much pressure he puts on himself?" You nodded again, this time much more somberly. "Still, he never bothers anyone with his problems? He keeps on showing up. Chan's a very private person. He will be nice to you, but he's very guarded about what he goes through. I'm not sure why. Anyway, that is a big obstacle to surpass if you want to have a special someone in your life. Plus, I don't think he even notices people giving him that kind of attention. He's so shy about it. Sometimes, I think he forgets that there's a whole wide world apart from our idol's existence."
You silently processed all that new information. "Do you think that's also why he forgot about tonight?" you finally asked. The words had been hanging at your lips, but it hurt to admit he forgot about your special night. He had been so supportive ever since you started at the company. His absence had hurt way more than you would care to admit.
Felix let out a defeated sigh before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"You know him. He's been in a creative slump. Inspiration probably struck tonight, and the rest of the world ceased to exist. It's nothing against you," he squeezed your shoulder in an attempt at confort.
"I know, it just means I'm nothing special to him either," you muttered.
Felix was the only one who knew of your year-long crush on Chan. He was observant and quickly noticed how flushed you turned whenever the oldest member was around. But how could you not like him? You had once argued with Felix. He was so thoughtful and caring. His laugh had the power to brighten up your days in a second. He was always the one to try and make you giggle when you were frustrated or sad. For a whole year now, you had been watching over each other as you worked your asses off for the company. You liked and admired Chan for the whole person he was.
"You know it's more than that. Still, I understand your pain. What do you say about a bunch of brownies to fix your aching heart?" he suggested with a sweet smile.
"Did I hear brownies?" suddenly roared Changbin.
Your baking session was incredibly messy, cluttered, and fun. Han, Changbin, and Jeongin were the DJs in a corner while Felix, Seugmin, and you were on baking duty. Minho and Hyunjin were responsible for decorating the baked batch of brownies and even prepared one for you with candles.
"To celebrate your amazing promotion!" they cheered with proud smiles.
The boys gathered around while you blew the candles and once your wish was made they engulfed you in a hug until you couldn't breathe.
It was 1:00 am when Chan finally appeared. The boys were already in bed while you were cleaning up a little, unable to sleep. You lifted your head in surprise when you heard someone enter the room. Your eyes fell on a very tired-looking Bang Chan. His hair was sticking up, probably from running his hand through it too much. He was still wearing his practice sweats, and his bare face was annoyingly good-looking. He looked around the room, confused, until his gaze fell on the pieces of brownies left with a bit of "Congratulations Y/n!" frosting. Suddenly, his eyes went up two sizes.
"Oh no. Did I forget your celebratory night?"
You scrunched your face and stopped what you were doing. "Might have, but don't worry. You didn't miss much. We just went out, played games, and then decided to bake some brownies."
"Y/n, I'm so sorry." His hand went up to squeeze his head. "I got an idea for a new song and lost track of time."
You lifted your shoulders as if it meant nothing to you. Set on not letting him see you disappointed. "It's okay Chan," you whispered while keeping on cleaning.
"No, it's not. Come here." He shuffled to you with his big hands stretched out, a look of guilt on his face. You let him hug you for a second before you tried pulling back. "Let me hug you properly. Don't be stubborn," he whined.
You finally gave up and allowed his arms to properly wrap around you. A few inches taller, his head rested on yours, and you let yourself be engulfed by his warmth and the comfort it brought you until you pulled away again. These things with Chan were dangerous, especially after your conversation with Felix. You realized you couldn't allow your feelings to grow too much. Even if it wasn't directly because of you, Bang Chan did not have the space in his life for love, and you were not the person who would make him change his mind. You had to keep the damages to a minimum. He whined again as you separated from him, not quite understanding. You were usually never one to refuse a hug.
"I'm gonna go to bed." You finally stated without adding another word. Leaving was the best choice as you knew how thin your resolve grew whenever Christopher Chahn Bahng was in your orbit.
He watched you leave, not understanding why he suddenly felt so uneasy. The expression he saw on your face was foreign to him.
"You messed up on this one hyung."
He turned to look at the owner of the deep baritone voice he just heard. Felix was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed on his chest.
#ilya writes#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#bang chan x reader#bang chan x y/n#bang chan#lee know#changbin#hyunjin#han skz#felix skz#seungmin skz#i.n skz#stray kids fic#skz#skz x reader#skz fanfic
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+†+🪦 A Pɾσρҽɾ Bʅαƈƙ Bυʅʅ Wҽʅƈσɱҽ!
Summary: when you date a Magic Knight Captain, it's only a matter of time until you meet their Knights! A/N: just some fluff for Yami! I tried to include as many characters as I could but I'm still getting used to writing multiple chars in one scene. Pairing: Yami Sukehiro x fem!reader CW: swearing, suggestive jokes
╰┈➤ "Is this really where Suke lives?" you asked nobody as you approached his base. "He's always told me not to visit, but this place is just... creepy. Still, I feel bad for making him visit me all the time. Why not pay him a surprise visit?"
You had been dating the famed Captain of the Black Bulls, Yami Sukehiro, for a few months--4 to be exact--and things were starting to get serious with him.
But they were never serious enough for you to meet his squad.
Sure, you had seen them in passing, tagging along with him on missions, but you've never met the Black Bulls in person. It was like they were his kids that he never wanted you to meet for whatever reason. Whenever you tried to ask him if you could meet them, he'd always say: "Nah, not happening. I don't need you meeting those knuckleheads; they'd probably blabber some stupid story and scare you off, and I don't need that."
For the better part, he actually made the effort to go and see you wherever you were. He'd venture as many miles as needed in order to do so. He also just never introduced you to the public in general because he was scared of someone going after you for a vendetta or revenge against Yami (he was a man with many enemies, after all). So, he was content with just going on private dates in secluded bars or spending the night at your place. Any chance he could take to spend time with you, he'd snatch it right up.
Why did you venture to the secretive Black Bulls hideout in the first place? Well, Yami had been busy with training for a while. The missions were swamping him, and his efforts to keep the devils at bay were, inadvertently, keeping your relationship at bay as well. He never had any time to leave the hideout unless it was to go on a mission or to an official summons, and because you were basically forbidden from going to HQ, it meant all you could do was communicate via letters.
And you were sick and tired of it.
You were an impatient girl. You didn't like being basically banned from seeing your boyfriend, no matter how legitimate his causes or concerns were.
You haven't had dick in ages--you were starting to lose feeling down there!! And lord knows his dick was good, so good it left you unable to walk on several occasions.
But you weren't there just to fuck him (although it was a big bonus of dating him); you were there to mend your little broken heart.
So, that's how you wound up on their doorstep. You went at a time which you knew it'd be empty, so you were sure you wouldn't have to meet those bulls. Even if he, himself, was out, you could just wait in his room as a little welcome home surprise.
"I don't suppose I have to knock before entering," you muttered, grabbing the latch of the door and opening the giant wooden slab. Just as you'd expected: the place was empty. Not a peep to be heard throughout the entire tower of oddly shaped rooms and windows that were jutting out of the wrong places.
"Well, this sure ain't too bad. I thought it'd be in ruins by the way Suke described it," you thought to yourself. As you stepped on the cobblestone floors and ventured inside the place, you took note of it. It had a certain charm to it, like a cozy tavern you'd seek refuge from a storm in. There were torches lit up by mana, different flags hanging from the walls, and a big bar in the left side of the room. "If he wasn't so protective of me, I could imagine myself living here with him..."
"Hello... who are... you?" a ghostly voice suddenly said from the hallway.
"Gah! Wait- is it seriously haunted? Was Sukehiro telling me the truth this whole time?!" You immediately hid behind a couch when you saw the mint-haired man standing there.
"I'm... not... a... ghost! I... keep... this... place... running," the ghost said.
"Are you sure? Because you certainly don't look too- gah!" this time, you were surprised to feel that all your mana was being drained from you, simply by being close to the man.
"I'm.. sorry... I... drain... people's... mana... on... accident. Don't... stand... too... close."
"Figured as much," you muttered, somehow able to break free from the man's mana pull. "I knew I shouldn't have come here... I thought all of you would be out for the day."
"You... didn't... answer... my... question. Who... are... you?"
"Oh, right... sorry about that," you said, rubbing the back of your neck, "I'm, uh... I'm Captain Yami's girlfriend. I came here hoping that none of you would be around, but it seems as though I made a mistake. I thought all of you would be on missions for sure!"
The man's ghostly face lit up in surprise when he realized who you were. "Oh! I... know... you... or, at least... I've... heard... of you... Captain Yami's... always... talking... about... some girl... who... he's... been... dating. We all... just... thought... that he... was... lying."
"You seriously thought that he was lying?" you asked in disbelief. "Then again, he is an acquired taste... Anyway, what's your name?"
"My... name's... Henry. I... don't... go on... missions... because... I'm... too... weak, and I'm... bound... to... this... house."
"Too weak?" you asked, feeling a bit sorry for the guy. "Jeez, that must suck. Anyway, Henry, nice to meet you- ahhh!!" he started draining your mana on accident again and you pulled away.
"Sorry..."
"It's fine, Henry; I forgot about your little quirk," you reassured him with a wave of the hand.
"You're... really... pretty. Too... pretty... to... be... dating the... Captain," Henry remarked, making you snicker.
"Well, thank you, Henry! Yeah, you probably couldn't picture him and I together, if I'm being honest. I guess I just have a thing for oblivious brutes," you giggled, making him smile in return. "Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Captain Yami about my impromptu appearance; he doesn't want me hanging around you guys. Somethin' about 'putting me in danger'? As if I could be put in danger," you remarked rather confidently. "I'm not really the type to submit to his wishes all that easily, but he seemed pretty serious about keeping our relationship under wraps. If you don't mind me, I'll be on my merry way-"
"Wait...! The... others... are... supposed to be... back... soon! You'll... get... caught... if you... don't... hide!" Henry warned you suddenly.
"H-Huh? Really?!" you asked him, already freaking out.
As if on cue, you could hear several voices chattering from the other side of the door, and you looked around in panic, trying to find a hiding spot. Henry was blocking the hallway, and if you got too close to him, you'd probably faint on the spot. You tried to hide behind the bar, only for the door to literally break down as the rowdy Black Bulls made their way home. You knew they were loud, but you didn't know that they were the type to break down doors! At the sight of the bunch, you instinctively froze up in fear, akin to a deer in headlights. You ducked for the nearest couch, hoping that they'd choose to go in the opposite direction.
"Did you guys see the way I took that guy down?! It was awesome! I totally surpassed my limits out there!!" A rather enthusiastic, short boy said to the others. That must've been Asta: the anti-magic user.
"You were pretty good out there--not that I'm complimenting you or anything! I'm still royalty compared to you," a similarly short girl with silver hair said. Based on how she was jabbing the boy with her words, that was probably Noelle.
"Just you wait, Asta--I'm gonna get stronger than you!" another guy with a mohawk and glasses said. Magna, if you weren't mistaken.
"I'd like to see you try to get stronger than him! If you do, then I'll spar with you until I get even stronger!" a blonde boy with a psychopathic smile quipped. Luck.
"Just don't go around breaking shit, okay, you numbskulls?" your oh-so handsome boyfriend Yami Sukehiro sighed. "We don't have the money to keep repairing the damage you guys cause."
"I'm going to go worship my sister, Marie," a guy with an apparent sister complex said: Gauche, to be precise.
"What a weirdo," you said to yourself. A few of their heads turned in the direction of your voice, and you hid your entire body behind the couch.
"What was that?"
"Whatever it was, it was telling the truth."
"If you boys don't mind, I'm gonna go have a drink at the bar!" a female voice said, her words already slurred.
"Aren't you already drunk, Vanessa?" another guy asked the witch.
"What's one more drink, Finral? You should come join me!" she replied. You quickly realized you were in deep shit when you remembered that the couch you were hiding behind was right next to the bar.
Well, this is the end, you thought. There was no way you could hide from these guys now. Even if you tried to make a run for it, your boyfriend was right there, and he'd probably teach you a lesson!!
You braced yourself for when the witch, Vanessa, would see you... which was right at that moment. "Umm, guys? Why is there a stranger hiding behind our couch?"
Your eyes shot open in fear, and you looked up at the girl, your face red with embarrassment. "Vanessa, what are you talking about? Are you seriously seeing things?- Oh, hubba, hubba!" the guy named Finral said once he saw you. "If I knew that cute girls would be sneaking into our hideout, I'd leave the door unlocked more often!"
One by one, all the Black Bulls clamored around the couch, wondering who, exactly, the two were talking about. They were all in wonder until Yami came over. Oh, how you dreaded this from the moment you walked in...
"(Y/N)--what the hell are you doing in my base?!" said boyfriend asked, making you flinch with how loudly he asked that question.
"Heh... hi, Suke," you said quietly, only for the man to pick you up by the scruff of your collar and make you stand up.
"Wait, do you actually know that girl, Captain Yami?" Finral asked the man.
"He sure does..." you said meekly.
"Yeah, I do," he sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Great, this is just what I needed: my Bulls slobbering all over my girlfriend..."
"Did you just say GIRLFRIEND?!" all of them asked in unison.
"I guess there's no time like the present," the man finally relented. Yami stopped pinching his nose and instead wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you next to him. "Everyone, this is my girlfriend of four months."
"GIRLFRIEND OF FOUR MONTHS?!"
"I didn't even know a woman could stand to be in your presence, let alone for that amount of time!" Noelle exclaimed.
"So, you mean to tell me that you bagged a babe like her?! Captain, you need to give me your secrets!!!" Finral said, practically on the verge of losing it at this revelation.
"Don't call my girlfriend a babe, pipsqueak!"
"THIS IS SO COOL!! SO YOU MEAN TO TELL US THAT YOU WEREN'T LYING ABOUT HAVING A GIRLFRIEND ALL THIS TIME?!" Asta exclaimed, his voice drowning out everyone else's questions. "PLEASED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE, MA'AM--MY NAME IS ASTA AND I'M FROM HAGE VILLAGE, AND YOU ARE VERY BEAUTIFUL!!"
"Stop yelling in my girlfriend's ear, are you trying to make her go deaf?!" Yami asked Asta before grabbing his lips and shutting him up forcefully.
"Would you like to spar with me?!" Luck asked, way too enthusiastically for his own good.
"How about a drink?" Vanessa asked.
"A nice, warm meal would be a great welcome for her!" Charmy proposed.
"I don't care if you're Yami's girlfriend: if you touch my sister Marie, I'll kick your ass," Gauche threatened you directly.
"Creep..." Yami muttered. "For the love of the Wizard King, all of you get off of her and stop harassing her with all your questions!!" he barked, now pissed off at the situation.
"Yes, Captain Yami, sir," all of them said, piping down finally.
"This is exactly why I didn't introduce her to all of you; none of you know how to act properly!" Yami yelled again, this time gritting his teeth in anger. You could tell he was getting riled up, so you put your hand on his chest and silently told him to calm down. His frustrated expression settled down to a simple frown, and he offered you a tiny smile. "Sorry, princess."
"I've never seen someone rein him in so easily," one of the bulls remarked in wonder.
"It's clear that Yami appreciates this woman and that we should treat her with the same respect with which we'd treat one of our own," Gordon whispered. Everyone still side-eyed him for how quiet he was being.
Yami took a deep breath and faced his subordinates again. "Anyway, this is my girlfriend of 4 months: (Y/N) (L/N). I expect all of you to treat her with the same respect you'd treat me, just as Gordon said." Everyone nodded, and for once he didn't feel like bashing their heads in.
"Captain Yami, if you don't mind me asking: how come we haven't met her before if she's so important to you?" one of them asked this time.
"Because, if I introduced her to all of you, one of you would blabber your mouths, and then word would get out that I had a girlfriend. That would put her in some serious danger, considering how many foes we face and enemies we have," Yami explained--and quite calmly at that. "And I like keeping my personal life separate from my life as Captain. I don't want the two to intermingle, even if both lives are equally important to me."
"I guess that makes sense..."
You decided that it was your turn to speak: "truth be told, Suke's always been so overprotective of me. He thinks I'm some delicate little flower who needs to be guarded at all costs, even if I'm a stage 0 mage. It's honestly ironic, considering how his type is strong women," you added with a giggle.
"Well, I can't let you get hurt because of me, princess," he said to you quietly. "Even if you are strong, there's always the chance that someone might go looking for you."
"Look at him, he's so protective of her! It's honestly kinda cute," Vanessa remarked, taking another sip of her drink. Yami merely glared at her before looking at all of them again.
"How come she found out about the base if you're so protective of her? Isn't its location supposed to be private?"
This was a question meant for you, it seemed, even if it was directed at Yami. "Well... your horse and buggy's a little quick to give up information if you're pretty enough," you giggled mischievously, playing with your hair as if you were innocent.
"Finral!" Yami said through gritted teeth.
"I-I just figured she was curious!" the boy said, trembling at the possibility of being punished by their Captain.
"I guess I just have my ways," you giggled again. "I couldn't stay away from my boyfriend for too long, not when I have needs!" you shot a wink at Yami, and all he could do was blush in place.
"I don't even wanna know what those needs are..."
"Don't speak of such things around my sister, Marie," Gauche quipped, making you furrow your brow.
"She's not even here--that's a picture you're holding!!"
"She's here in spirit."
"Stop starting fights when we have guests," Noelle interjected, being the voice of reason for once. She then decided to ask you a question. "So, I simply have to know: what possessed you to date the man for four months? From what I've seen, he's not the most perceptive man out there!"
"Noelle, you can't just say that about our captain in front of his girlfriend!" Asta said to Noelle.
She huffed in response. "As if you'd be any better!!"
"Slander my name to her like that and I'll kill both of you," Yami threatened them, making them both jump.
"But I didn't even do anything wrong!" Asta whined defensively.
"To be honest," you started, making everyone look at you again. "I was the one who initially had a crush on him. I know he's not everyone's type, but he sure is mine. Anyway, it was kinda hard getting him to notice my feelings for him. In the end, all it took was for me to simply confess my feelings for him and hope that he'd reciprocate them! And Suke may not look like the boyfriend type, but he's actually the most caring and considerate man I've ever met; he just doesn't show any of you that side... At least, not as forwardly as he does to to me."
Noelle thought about your words, and she couldn't exactly do anything but take your word for it. "If you say so... But, I still just don't get it! You're so... pink, and he's so... whatever he is!"
"Well, everyone has their type," you shrugged.
"But, how do you deal with his bowel issues?"
"Noelle!"
You couldn't help but giggle at her question. "By buying extra toilet paper, of course!"
"(Y/N)..." Yami trailed off, embarrassed by the topic. "All of you: bowel issues are no laughing matter! I go through battles every single day in that room."
"Yeah, we know."
After the Black Bulls laughed at your little statements, he decided to move on to the next part: "alright, enough of a Q&A session. Since you came all this way, I'd imagine you'd be staying over for dinner?"
Your stomach growled in response to his question. "Oh, yes, please. I'm starving--this place is so far from the nearest town!"
"Not to worry, my fair lady!" Charmy suddenly said, standing up on the table. "Chef Charmy here will cook up an amazing feast to welcome you to our humble abode!"
You looked at Charmy and then at Yami. "Can the half-dwarf really do that--cook well?"
"Oh, you'd be surprised. Her food is rich with mana."
"Fear not," Charmy repeated, "for you deserve a proper Black Bull welcome!"
Just as Yami promised you: Charmy cooked up a feast fit for several kings from far away lands and then some. Her cotton magic combined with her food magic made for plenty of meals and dishes to go around, and, although simplistic in their nature, each meal left you wanting more.
You were, of course, seated beside your boyfriend Yami (you were almost touching him), and the pink-haired witch, Vanessa, decided to sit on the other side. "You simply must try this drink, (Y/N)!"
"Oh, I don't drink much, but thanks for the offer," you said. Your efforts were in vain, seeing as she had already filled your cup.
"Don't overdo it, princess. I don't want you stumbling about the place. Y'know, since you can't really handle your liquor," Yami warned you.
"I'll try not to, Suke."
After filling up your cup, Vanessa decided to ask you a boatload of questions, as did all the other Black Bulls. Asta asked you about your family back at home; Vanessa asked you about your relationship; Luck asked you about your fighting skills; Gordon asked if he could be your friend (and make a doll that resembled you?); etc. All the other Bulls asked you unique questions that were different according to their personalities and interests, and you were happily to answer all of them. It wasn't everyday that you got to talk about your wonderful relationship!
As the night settled down, though, a certain personal question was asked by a certain witch who was to your right. "So, (Y/N), I hope you don't mind me asking you this, but... are you happy in your relationship?" It was on brand for the witch, considering that she liked to talk about relationships and was also quite drunk.
"Vanessa, don't ask those kinds of questions," Yami warned the witch. "You've just met her-"
You answered it, though, regardless of how personal it was. Maybe it was the alcohol that opened you up more, but you gave her a smile and said: "more than you could imagine, Vanessa. Suke makes me happy in ways I cannot imagine. Brash as he might be, he still cares for me, and I can see that he also cares about the lot of you in his own special way. You're his family, after all; I'm just the lucky girl who he chose to open up to." It was more than you intended to say, but it got the point across pretty well. You took another sip of your drink, unaware of the way that they looked at you.
"Wow, that's... I sure am glad that you're happy!" Vanessa exclaimed, throwing her arm around your shoulder (and almost falling out of her chair).
"We all are, (Y/N)," Noelle also said with a slight smile.
"We might've just met you, but if you're a friend of Captain Yami's, then you're a friend of ours!" Asta exclaimed.
"I hope we can be great friends," Gordon whispered.
With each praise, each remark of approval, you couldn't help but smile at them. Truth be told, you'd been longing for a group of people who you could call home. Much like Noelle, you, too, had been shunned by your family for reasons you couldn't explain. Yami had been your lighthouse, your guiding rock all this time, but the idea that there was a whole other group out there who you could lean on for support kept your spirits up.
You might've just met them, but you already felt at home.
"Welcome to the fold, kid," Yami muttered into your ear before kissing the skin behind it.
Now that dinner was all cleaned up and over with, the two of you retired to Yami's bedroom. He shut the door behind him quietly, breathing a sigh of relief. "(Y/N), you have no idea the heart attack you almost gave me back there." Although he let the stoic mask drop and be replaced by the softness that he showed you, he still couldn't help but scold you. "Seriously--I wasn't prepared to introduce you to all of them."
"I didn't mean to surprise you like that, I just... look, I planned on sneaking in and going to your room and surprising you there. I wanted to see you--you've been so busy these past few weeks! I really didn't mean to meet them so early," you said, taking your earrings off and putting them on the nightstand.
Yami took the opportunity to sneak behind you and wrap his arms around your body. "I know I've been busy, princess; I would've snuck you in if you asked me to, though."
"I was impatient, Suke. You know how long those letters take to deliver; I wanted to see you today."
He didn't scold you; rather, he chuckled deeply and pressed his lips to the top of your head. "Well, aren't you an impatient princess?"
"You gave me that title, Sukehiro," you quipped, making him chuckle again.
"I guess I did."
After a few moments of silence, and after you'd taken your jewelry off, he took the opportunity to hug you tighter and let his lips travel down your neck. "Well, since you're here... I might as well get that loving in, hmm?"
"You might as well," you quipped. You stopped talking, instead letting him kiss your neck and your shoulder. You were so small in his arms--like a goddamn kitten! Even though you were strong, confident & fierce in your daily life, when you were with your beloved, you were like putty in his big hands, reduced to mush in a matter of moments.
"Good god, woman, I've missed you," he growled, letting his big hand trail up your shirt. "You have no idea how hard it was to resist the urge to just drop everything and come running to you."
"That's no way for a Magic Knight Captain to behave," you teased him, making him spank your ass out of annoyance.
"I know, princess." He went back to kissing your exposed shoulder and decided to take it a step further. "Turn around for me, baby," he rasped into your ear. You obliged happily, turning around to face your boyfriend. "That's more like it," he said, cracking a smile before attacking your lips. His chapped, rough lips kissed your much softer & sweeter ones, his tongue intermingling with yours and tasting the sweetness of your mouth. "Missed this... the way your lips taste," he whispered, angling your head so he could kiss you deeper.
"Missed yours, too," you murmured to which he raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't you say I smelled like cigarettes and beer?"
"That was before I made you quit all that shit. Now, shut up and kiss me," you said before diving in again.
"As you wish." He spun you guys around so that he was sitting on the bed and you were in between his legs. "What're you standing there for? Sit on my lap, sweetheart." You happily obliged and straddled his hips, letting the man pull you in for another deep, passionate kiss. His wandering hands trailed up and down your sides until he finally decided to peel off your shirt.
"Suke, it's cold," you whined.
"Then lemme heat you up," he rasped, continuing to let his hands run amok. Every time he got his hands on your soft, supple skin, he felt his heart skip a beat. You were just so goddamn perfect for him--you were like an angel, sent to keep him tamed. He trailed kisses down your neck and to your chest, kissing and biting at the soft fat of your breasts. "Mind if I take this thing off?" he asked, sticking a finger underneath the clasp of your bra.
"Only if you take this off," you quipped, peeling your boyfriend's tank top off, giving you access to those sweet muscles that you were so incredibly attracted to.
"Like what you see?" he rumbled with a cocky grin on his face.
"More than you could imagine," you giggled, pushing him back onto the bed and earning a spank from the brute's big hand.
"Come here and give your man some loving, hmm? He's missed having you in his bed."
You promptly requested a change of squad the next day. The Crimson Lion Kings would understand.
Bσɳυʂ ʂƈҽɳҽ: Nαƈԋƚ Fαυʂƚ! ⋆♱✮♱⋆
"So, this is the girlfriend I've been hearing so much about, Captain Yami?" the man, who was his vice-captain, asked him. It was a rare occurrence for him to leave the shadow realm and go back to HQ, but when he heard that his old friend of so many years had gotten himself a girlfriend, he couldn't resist the urge to meet you. His eyes flickered from Yami to you, and you felt like they were staring into your soul.
"Yeah, this is her: (Y/N), (L/N). Try not to scare her off and say anything bad about me, 'kay?" Yami asked of the young man.
Nacht offered you a smile and even outstretched his hand from his coat. "Pleased to meet you, my name is Nacht Faust. I was wondering when Captain Yami would find someone who'd put up with his antics," he said, surprisingly friendly for how reserved he seemed.
"Do I really have that kinda reputation?!"
"Yes, you do."
"Um... nice to meet you as well," you replied, unsure if you should be scared of him or be glad he was so friendly.
"Anyway, I should get going. I can't exactly stand to be around your boyfriend for so long," he said in that eerily calm voice before slinking back into a shadow. "It was nice to meet you again!"
"Yeah, it was..." you trailed off as the man disappeared into the shadowy side of that wall. "Is he always like that?"
"He's usually worse," Yami sighed. "Anyway, let's go back to bed. I'm tired."
"But it's 3 pm!" you protested. He merely scoffed and threw you over his shoulder. "Hey, put me down!!"
"Does it look like I care? I'll cuddle my girlfriend anytime of the day I want."
© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 7/1/2024
#yami sukehiro#yami sukehiro x reader#yami sukehiro smut#black clover x y/n#black clover x reader#black clover smut#black clover fandom#black clover#finral roulacase#vanessa enoteca#asta black clover#luck voltia#magna swing#gauche adlai#gordon agrippa#noelle silva#charmy pappitson#nacht faust
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⭑.ᐟ Domesticity - Xu Minghao x reader
genre: blurb, fluff, comfort word count: 908 warnings: implied age gap relationship, implied sugar daddy!minghao rating: PG / SFW
Disclaimer: My works are fictional and do not reflect real-life situations, cultures, or individuals. All characters are purely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.
You unlock the door with your spare key, the one he had given you just for emergency. It struck you the wrong way to come to his apartment unannounced at first, but you had your reasons. Loneliness should count as an emergency, right? The door clicks open and you walk in, immediately you're hit with a luxurious smell of something floral that you can't quite place - but it's refreshing nevertheless.
After putting your shoes away on the welcome mat, you finally put your feet on the shiny wooden floors. You can't help but to compare his apartment to yours, which hasn't been this clean since you first got it.
"Minghao?" you call out, but not loud enough so as to accidentally wake him if he happens to be asleep.
There's no answer, so you shrug off your coat and hang it beside his. You carefully smooth out your skirt and look at yourself in the mirror. He might not be home. It wouldn't be strange if he wasn't, he was probably out at a fancy bar somewhere with some important client. Your brain kind of turns off when he starts talking about his work, and you think he's started to notice from the way that he always pauses and smiles before asking about your day. It's not that you don't care, you want to see him happy and well off, but at times the way that he talks about his work just sounds like the grown-ups in the Peanuts cartoons.
You walk into the kitchen, which is just as clean as the rest of the house. Except, there's a pot soaking in the sink. It's been there for long enough to not be able to guess what's been in there. You roll up your sleeves and start washing up. It should feel weird to do his dishes, but you can't help but to feel a little giddy. It feels so domestic. Coming home from a long days work, making dinner for each other while the other one does the dishes. He hasn't actually made dinner for you, but you let yourself daydream.
You shift to stand on one leg, letting the other foot lightly kick up before balancing it on your toe - a flustered tick. With the hot water running, and the scrubbing sounding out loud, you don't hear the soft footsteps coming up behind you. It's only when you feel Minghao's arms wrap around you that you realize that he's there.
"Are you doing my dishes, honey?" he asks in a gentle yet teasing tone.
"You're home!" You turn your chin to look at him over his shoulder.
From what you can see, he has his glasses on and his hair's a mess. It's not what you were expecting, but the look is greatly appreciated. You lean into his warmth, and his arms squeeze your waist.
"This is my apartment," he says.
"I thought you were out on business..." You sigh and turn off the sink to lean further into him. "Are you always this warm?"
He chuckles, and it vibrates through his chest. "You're just cold, honey."
Minghao grabs your hands in his, not caring that they're still wet. His hands are warm and soft, making you smile at the touch. He lets go of you with one hand, spinning you around slowly to face him with the other. You notice he's already in his pajamas. Both of his hands encapsulate yours again.
"I was going to take care of that in the morning." His gaze is focused on your hands as he tries to cover them with his.
"You ate at home tonight?"
"Well, you said you had other plans." He looks at you up and down with a fond look in his eyes. "It certainly looks like you had other plans. Hope you didn't skip them for me, pretty."
"I didn't. I went... I just wanted to see you. Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your day off." You try to take your hands away but he won't let you.
"You didn't. I'm glad you're here." He pulls you in for a hug, and it's your turn to wrap your arms around his waist. "I wish you would've notified me... I'd give you the other half of my ramyun, you know?"
You let out a soft giggle, the way you only did when your walls are down - when you're with him. "Missed opportunity."
Minghao hums and presses a kiss to the side of your neck. It's chaste. Sweet. And you feel a wave of the domesticity you felt before. Your hands cling tighter to his shirt as he starts rubbing your back in slow circles.
"Come to bed with me?" he asks, as if there's any other answer than yes.
You hum and nod against his chest. While you want to stay like this forever, Minghao seems eager to go back to bed. He loosens his arms around you, bringing one hand to the small of your back to lead you to his bedroom. And it's all worth it when you're laying down in his bed, newly showered and in the comfy pajamas he bought for you, as his arms are wrapped around you once again. To think that your friends had made fun of you for wanting to leave the party early to go back to "your old man", when this is the most blissful you've been all day.
#svthub#seventeen#fluff#minghao#minghao x reader#minghao seventeen#minghao fluff#minghao imagines#the8#svt the8#xu minghao#seventeen fluff#svt#syl says☆
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[goblin] Rust
goblin!Rust x human!Reader Good to know: public sex, freeuse
Summary: You work in a bar where the rules are slightly different from the outside world.
The bar is calm. The lights from the bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling are dim, casting a warm glow across the place. Quiet music plays in the background. The singer's voice is deep and hoarse. You can barely hear it because of the sound of the bottles as your co-worker fills up the shelves behind you while you are busy swiping down the counter with a wet rag. All around, the air is filled with the quiet murmur of conversations. The clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughters echo off the walls. They are decorated with posters and faded photographs. The wide windows are darkened with the name and logo of the bar. The tables and chairs all around the place were crafted decades ago. They are still sturdy and marked with the memory of the countless drinks poured and the many fights that escalated over the years.
"They are here," the vampire behind you hums, glancing over her shoulder to the window. You can see the motorbikes parking down in a long row. The rumbling of the engines shakes the walls and goes straight to your core. "I can hear it," you reply, watching to door burst open with a loud thud.
Soon, the bar is full of bikers, taking their places all over the room as usual. They are loud and dominating. It's nothing you are not used to. You've worked at the bar for a few years. You know most of the patrons since Grimbrook is usually not a place for tourists. Especially not the bar with all kinds of monsters and humans.
Your next hour is busy with taking care of everything. The smell of alcohol and cheap beer is heavy and thick in the air, mixing with smoke. You can't hear the music anymore through the crowd's constant noise. Laughs and shouts boom every now and again from various tables. The boots thud heavily on the wooden floor.
"There is my favorite girl," the goblin greets you from one of the booths next to the walls. His smile is barely noticeable under his crooked nose. His green skin seems a bit more yellowish under the hue of the lights. The black leather jacket he always wears is over the backrest, leaving him in a black t-shirt and jeans. "Hey, Rust," you greet the male. "How's your night?" "It's better now that you are here," he hums, slipping his hand on your hip. His fingers grope your flesh, letting his nails dig into the fabric of your black skirt. "Really?" You laugh, stepping away from his hold as you put the empty bottles and glasses on the tray in your other hand. "I'm busy." "Well, you wouldn't be if Eva would do her job," Rust replies with a hungry smirk on his thin lips. Following his gaze, you see your co-worker on an orc's lap. The male is big and sturdy. His large hands are on your friend's hips, keeping Eva on his lap as she drinks from his neck. They grind to each other the whole time. "Oh, I think she is doing her job just fine," you laugh. Rust's hand is on you again. "And you?" His thumb grazes your nipple through the fabric of your shirt and bra. "I'm doing it, too," you reply. "Just not the fun part." "Don't make me wait for too long," he shouts after you when you leave their table.
You can feel wetness already pooling between your legs, ruining your panties. Heat lits up in your belly, and you have to force yourself to leave the goblin with his friends and continue your job.
"Are you done?" You smirk under your breath when the vampire female appears next to you. Her usually pale complexion seems much healthier. There is a slight hint of pink on her cheeks, and her lips are red and swollen. "With the orc?" She asks. "Yes. For the night? No." You laugh at her reply while serving the monsters around the counter. Your nose is full of the smell of the various drinks. "Oh," Eva continues. "Rust wants to see you." A knowing smile tugs on the corner of her lips. "I-" "Don't worry," she adds before you can say anything. "I will take care of everything while you are busy." "Like last week?" "Oh, shush."
Leaving the vampire at the counter, you make your way to the booth where Rust is still sitting with a half-orc and a demon. They are talking. The half-orc laughs at something. His head tilts back, and the golden loop around his tusk glint in the light. His voice is hoarse but booming.
Without saying anything, Rust pulls up your skirt until it's around your waist, and anybody can see your matching panties covering your mound. His nails graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he tugs you closer to him until you are sitting on his lap. His body and the desk in front of you barely give you enough space, and you have to spread your legs not to kick Rust's friends. Because of the height difference, the goblin has to sit straight if he wants to continue talking with the others. His voice is a deep rumble on your back, and his words fan over the curve of your neck.
"That's what I am talking about," he grunts into your ear, squeezing your hips as you start to grind down on him. The rough fabric of his jeans and his erection underneath it rub against your slit repeatedly. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every passing second. Your palms are on the table as you try to keep your balance and circle your hips on his lap. You can feel him moving under you. He pushes up, nudging your clit. Your lips part in a silent groan.
The male and his friends continue talking while you chase your own pleasure. Your pussy aches for more, your hole clenches around nothing.
"Stand up," Rust says, stopping your movement. The muscles of your legs flex as you keep your weight above him, slightly bending over the table. You can hear the zipper of Rust's jeans as he frees himself, but your attention is drawn to the demon in front of you. He reaches over the table, unbuttons your shirt, and pushes down your bra until your breasts are bare for his dark eyes. His forked tongue licks across his sharp teeth. Your nipples are tight peaks. The edges of the lacy cups rub against them every time you move.
"C'mere, love," Rust grunts, grabbing your hips again to pull you back onto his lap. His cock slides into you easily. He is not as long as your other patrons, but the piercing at the tip makes you forget everyone else. You can feel the cold metal rubbing against your walls, nudging you in all the right places. "Fuck," the male grunts behind you when you are fully seated on him. You envelop his cock warmly and tightly. He can feel your pussy clamping around his shaft, begging for more. "This is your job, no?" He asks, satisfied. "Keeping my cock warm with your sweet pussy."
And to your utmost disapproval, that's what you do for the next ten minutes. Rust doesn't let you fidget and squirm, craving every bit of friction you can get. He keeps you on him, enjoying your misery while his friends talk and stare at you. Their gazes are heavy and hungry on your tits. You push them out some more with every breath you take as you lean back against Rust's chest. His hands from your side slip down between your legs. His fingers tease across your slit, finding your clit with slow circles. You are soaked. Your arousal drips down onto his lap.
"One more minute, and she will combust," Eva states, smirking as she puts a few new bottles down on the table. Her eyes rake over your bare chest, unashamed. "Do you think so?" Rust jokes but grinds up into your hole. The sudden movement takes your breath away as your head falls back on his shoulder. Eyes flutter shut. "But she is so warm."
He teases you for a few more seconds before making you move on his cock finally. He uses your hole to his heart's content while his friends in front of you stare openly, sipping their beers. Your breasts bounce with every thrust and every circle of your hips as you get higher and higher on the goblin's cock. His clever fingers work on your clit with experience. Rust knows how to drive you crazy with need.
Eva is still at the table, watching. Her dark eyes glint with hunger as she leans closer. Before you know it, your moans get muffled by her lips. Her tongue pushes into your mouth, dominating you while Rust fucks into you. Your pussy is tight and demanding. You want everything he can give you. The burning coil in your stomach grows, and your muscles tense. You almost scream when Eva bites your bottom lip, licking down the blood and sucking for more. The slight pain and the stretch of your aching pussy are enough to push you over the edge. Every nerve in your body bursts with pleasure. Your limbs start to tingle, and your hole clamps down and pulses around the goblin's erection.
"Fuck," Rust groans, pushing you up over the table. Your stomach is flat on the wooden surface. You feel him pulling out of you, and soon, his warm seed paints your waist and ass while you are still shaking after your orgasm. Your muscles jerk, and your pussy clenches.
Blood slips down your chin from the corner of your lips. When you look up and see the demon standing up, too, tugging on his cock a few times before pushing his length into your open lips, you know you will have a long night.
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#monster romance#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#monster x human#grimbrook#goblin x reader#goblin x human#monsterfucker#monster lover#monster kink#terato#kinktober 2023
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Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night
Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 10k words (.....yes. 10k. i know)
summary: You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.
a/n: this is pure smut. honestly pure smut. 18+ i will now list all the things that you have to look out for. first and foremost i have NEVER written smut before dont kill me pls im trying my best. ok so
name kink, rank kink, choking, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyve had the conversation nothing bad will happen), oral sex!fem receiving, dom bradley, some "good girl" because i am a sucker for that, in general a lot of talking because bradley is A TALKER!!!!!!, a little strength kink? is that a thing? and a shit ton of begging
this can be read as a stand-alone most definitely, but is set in the same universe as "Tuesday Night" and “Not A Coincidence” and "Take Me On A Joyride" so maybe give those a read too?
top gun masterlist
You were behind the bar this evening, a rag in your hands as you wiped down the sticky wooden top for the bazillionth time and hummed along to the music coming from the jukebox. You were behind the bar most evenings, pouring beer and rum and whiskey and mixing cocktails (occasionally taking some sips of your own), smiling and laughing and flirting with customers left and right.
For the past few months now, the most regular of those costumers had been the Dagger squad.
They'd shown up here one random evening and hadn't left since. And it didn't seem like any of them would any time soon.
Not that you wanted them to, oh no. You had grown so close in so little time that it was scary at this point.
"Settle a bet for us, Junior."
Jake slid up to the bar as if it was second nature, putting an empty bottle of beer in front of him and resting one elbow next to it. You looked up at him and smiled, threw your rag over your shoulder and grabbed the bottle, condensation dripping down onto your fingertips. Rooster came up right behind him and your smile deepened even further.
"Hit me, Bagman", you challenged, set two full bottles on the bar top and then rested your forearms against the edge.
Jake grinned at you as he raised his beer in a toast.
"If you had to get with one of us tonight, who'd you get with?"
You didn't even flinch.
"Bradshaw", you said, quick like a shot, and watched Jake's face fall like he'd expected a different answer with just a tiny bit of amusement. You glanced at Rooster, who had already been looking at you, and whose only reaction to the fact that you were literally talking about sleeping with him was a small quirk of his lips.
"Bradshaw? Are you kidding? You- I'll give you a second to think about it, Junior. Don't you wanna think about it for a second?", Jake asked, regaining his facade, letting a tinge of his accent slip as he leaned in and winked at you. "You know, actually think about it. Imagine it. Picture it. Visualise it."
You decided to give him the satisfaction. So you pushed back from the bar top, crossed your arms, raised your eyebrows and eyed the two of them up and down - just because you could, just for the fun of it. Jake was in his usual jeans and shirt, leaning in with a self-assured grin and his hand wrapped around his beer bottle. Bradley was wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts that fit snugly on his bicep, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of the white top underneath, hair on the practically perfect side of unruly and his eyes fixed on yours so intensely that you had to bite down on your tongue for a moment there.
You counted to five.
"Bradshaw", you said again, dropped your arms and grabbed the rag from your shoulder. Jake's lips parted and a betrayed sort of gasp left his mouth before he started complaining - you shook your head and stepped over to the next customer and only allowed yourself to grin when you'd turned away, out of his sight.
You wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
You still didn't know whether to be surprised at this "bet" the both of them had made. You were pretty sure anyway that Jake had been the driving force in that. You knew the two of them well enough by now to not only be aware of their.... you could only call it a rivalry, really, but also of Jake's weird, warped sense of mischief. Maybe he had some narcissism problem or maybe some old trauma response. Who cared? Not you. It made for entertainment every night you were behind the bar. And also every night you were in front of the bar, drinking and dancing with the squad. You loved him, you really did. But definitely not enough to not put a stop to his ego whenever you could.
And if that way was by flaunting how very platonically you felt about him (because he was a self-named womanizer and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly not be attracted to him), you would.
...
It was 2am when Penny told you to pack your things and go. Most of the bar was empty already, except for three or four small groups of people, but those she could manage alone. Usually, maybe, you'd have declined, but tonight....
Well.
Jake had found someone to hook up with after his earlier disappointment and the rest of the squad had left at some point during the last hour too - the rest of the squad except for a particular pornstache guy.
Rooster had said goodbye to Fanboy and Payback ten minutes ago, had assured them he didn't need a ride home, he'd order another drink and then take an uber, had sat down on a bar stool, nursed his beer and watched you clean up and then pack your things. You'd sneaked glances at him now and then, so you knew that he'd watched you.
When you stepped out from behind the bar, he sat up and followed you out of the Hard Deck wordlessly. Armed with a purse, fumbling for your car keys, fighting down the smile on your lips and the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, you took a second outside to close your eyes and breathe in the mild evening air.
Then two arms sneaked around your waist. You let out a sigh as warm breath hit your neck.
"So you'd rather get with me than Bagman, hm, Junior?"
You chuckled, pushing back a little, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax for the first time tonight.
"I think you know very well that I'd rather get with you than Bagman, Rooster", you muttered, running your hands up his, up his arms, up naked skin until you could slide your fingertips underneath his shirt, up his shoulders... "I'd rather get with you than anyone."
He pressed a kiss right below your earlobe, bit down softly on the same patch of skin, soothed it again with a kiss.
"Oh, I know", he laughed quietly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You settled even further into his arms. "I'd rather get with you than Bagman, too."
You had to laugh as well - the image of Hangman and Rooster was truly funny. But it was difficult to keep laughing when Bradley pressed more and more kisses to your neck, trailing a line of them down to the hemline of your shirt, nuzzling his nose in there when he couldn't go further. You tilted your head back a little to rest it against his shoulder, a pleasant flush rising up within - a comfortable warmth, the knowledge that you were safe, secure, protected. The way he always made you feel.
"Just to be clear - I do get to get with you tonight, right?", you asked, a grin on your lips because you knew the answer very, very well. Rooster chuckled into your ear and let out a hum.
"What do you think?", he muttered, one last, open-mouthed kiss pressed against your skin before he pulled away, pulled at your hand to twirl you around, pulled a squeal from your lips, one that conjured a smile on his face every time. "Take me home?"
...
The ride home was silent except for the radio in the background, but you were pretty much tuning that out. The steering wheel was sturdy in your hands, the night lights bright and blinding and your concentration on the streets and the car was waning ever so slowly, ever so steadily because Rooster's hand was slowly, steadily inching up your thigh. He'd put it innocently just above your knee when you'd strapped yourself in, his thumb sweeping in circles over the fabric of your jeans, but by now he'd brushed so far up that you were finding it hard to direct your thoughts back to driving.
Luckily, the drive back home only took ten minutes.
You weren't sure you'd have survived even a second more. He squeezed your thigh one last time as you turned the ignition off, then unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and got out and you were left alone in pure silence for exactly two seconds. You took a deep breath in and out. One day, and you knew that, Bradley would be the death of you. He could get you all riled up with so very little that you felt like you were going mad sometimes. In a very good way, of course.
And just as you were lamenting on the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, on the images your brain conjured whenever you were close to him, whenever you were touching him, whenever-
"Madam", Rooster smiled, leaning one arm on the opened car door and reaching the other hand out for you to take. "Would you do me the honours?"
You could only shake your head and grin at him, giddiness making you squirm in your seat as you pulled your hands away from the steering wheel and put one of them in his.
"I could never deny you any of your wishes, kind sir", you said, allowing him to pull you out of the car and into his arms instead. He hugged you close, tilted his head down to nuzzle your nose with his - you had to put your head back to be able to look into his eyes when you stood this close in front of him, nevermind kissing him.
"Really?", he smiled, his fingertips dancing along your side, hooking into your belt loops, pulling your hips flush to his. You grabbed at his biceps to steady yourself. Or maybe just because you could. "Any of my wishes?"
You let out a sort of agreeable hum and grinned up at him.
"Whatever you want", you nodded.
It was the truth, simple and just. You'd do anything. You'd let him do anything. You trusted him like you'd never trusted anyone before and up until now, you'd only ever been rewarded for putting that kind of trust in him. Something about this felt right. Something about him felt right.
"What if I wanted to spend the rest of the night between your legs?", he muttered, eyes flicking down to your lips as your breath hitched.
"Well", you whispered, because whispering was the only thing you still knew how to do. "As I said, I won't deny you anything."
His eyes met yours and his lip quirked up and then, before you could do anything more, he'd dropped down, wrapped an arm around your legs and hauled you up. You let out a gasp and crossed your arms behind his neck in reflex, a soft, shocked "Rooster!" falling from your lips. Bradley only chuckled, closed the car door with his hip and started carrying you to your front door with seemingly no problem whatsoever.
Gods. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he really was.
But then, in moments like these, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed or pushed you up against a wall and you remembered. And you felt that sting in your stomach that had you press your legs together every time.
Now you didn't even have to remember. Now you were dangling safely from his arms, your hands linked behind his neck, your fingertips buried in his hair, your eyes wide as you watched him, as you tried to steady your irregular breathing because shit, this was happening. This was happening like it had been happening for over three weeks now.
He sat you down carefully in front of the door, but you were in such a trance that you needed to take a moment (or two or three) to stare at him, at this man, this fairytale prince, this god. Your man, your fairytale prince, your god.
"You need to unlock the door, honey", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning you so you were facing the door, his chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning the exposed skin of your neck and right, right, right, the door! The door. The lock. The key. The key in your purse! That key. The key for your door. Right. Key, key, key.... Where the hell was that goddamn key? You were sure it was somewhere there in your purse. You'd put it in there like you always put it in there. Key, Key, Rooster, Rooster's arms around you, Rooster's hands brushing over your skin, Rooster's breath on your ear, Rooster between your legs, Rooster- Key! Key, key, key---
There.
At the very bottom of your purse, finally! There it was. You pulled it out with an almost triumphant sound, unlocked your door to Rooster's soft laughter behind you and stumbled into the dark hallway in a half-intoxicated way that shouldn't have been possible because you hadn't drunk anything tonight.
You threw your purse to the side and switched on the light and turned to Rooster just in time for him to have closed the door behind him and reached for you, his hands on your hips - so big, splayed so wide, his fingers so long - crowding you against the wall, his breath fanning over your mouth and then, finally, his lips on yours.
For the first time today, you were kissing him. He was so wide, so tall, so huge, everywhere all around you, his arms, his hands, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his chin and his cheeks and his lips and his hair. Your hands sunk into that hair, tugging at the roots and grabbing his head as though your life depended on it, depended on keeping him safely, steadily right on front of you, right here, pushing you against the wall and leaving you practically no room to breathe, to touch, to feel anything other than him.
You wanted him.
With every fibre of your body, your soul, every particle, every cell, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere all at once and you wanted him now.
So you bit down on his lip and allowed his tongue in and brushed your hands down his shoulders, down his chest to pull off that god-awful Hawaiian shirt that you admittedly found very attractive, but that was so incredibly, annoyingly in the way right now. You tugged it off his chest and down his arms and didn't care when it fell to the floor - that was where it should be, that was where it belonged.
You reached for the top then, for his waist to brush your fingertips below its hem, pushed it up, up, up until you could feel bare skin, washboard abs against your palms. That satisfied you for a moment - for a moment of running your fingers along the sharp edges of his stomach, for a moment of feeling his body heat, for a moment of being closer.
Luckily, Rooster had always been quite in-tune with you. He noticed the very second that your satisfaction turned to impatience, that your roaming, wandering hands weren't exploring, weren't enjoying anymore but were searching, longing for more - for more skin to touch, more, more, more.
He pulled away from your lips to get rid of his top, leaving you a panting, wide-eyed mess and by god, he'd only just gotten started. He hadn't even touched you. How were you already so wound up?
You blamed the fact that you'd had to stare at him from a distance for the past five days (you'd had late night shifts, he'd had early training days) and decided not to think about it further.
Especially not as his top joined his shirt on the floor, as he looked up at you with red smudged on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and unruly hair. His chest was heaving, his breath coming shorter than usual and his pupils had grown so dark you had to swallow hard.
Without thinking, you reached out and tried to wipe your lipstick off his skin.
That made him grin a little.
"Rooster?", you muttered, looking him right in the eyes. He let out a hum as he stared, a bit lost in thought it seemed and still quite shamelessly, only further at your lips. "Either take me to the bedroom or take a step back so I can get on my knees."
He let out a chuckle then and met your eyes, digging his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you a few inches away from the wall.
"I think you may have forgot something, honey", he said. "What about that wish I made?"
You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to let your imagination run wild.
Rooster only grinned, and it seemed that your expression showed him just how much you didn't mind his wish at all, because he reached around you, grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, so effortlessly that it made you blush a little. You didn't even have to hold onto him, only had to wrap your legs loosely around his hips as he carried you through the hallway and into the bedroom.
That allowed you to focus all of your attention on pressing your lips to his skin.
He was warm. So warm. You trailed your lips all over his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep, and then, when you couldn't go any further down, Rooster had already found the light switch in your room and was dropping you onto your bed, pulling a surprised gasp from you.
The mattress was soft and bouncy as you landed on it, heat in your cheeks and your throat tightening at the sight in front of you - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw standing at the foot of of your bed, half-naked, sweaty, breathing heavy and looking down at you like he was a predator and you were his prey, like he wanted to devour you whole.
Which he did.
You raised yourself up onto your elbows at the same time that he advanced - pounding on you, almost, with a grin on his lips that set ablaze the slumbering flame in your abdomen. You didn't know which one of you got rid of your shirt, only that a few seconds later his lips were on yours, his hands reaching for your bra clasp and your shirt discarded somewhere on your floor.
You breathed hard against his mouth as his fingertips brushed along your back, along your bra, then slowly slid it off your shoulders, down your arms...
Cold air hit your breasts just as Rooster pulled away from you to fling your bra away to join your shirt on the floor, leaving you cold and panting, your eyes closing and opening again and staring at him as he stared at you, as he admired you, all bare, soft skin right there, right in front of him, just for him and nobody else.
You felt his palms against your ribcage then, pushing you down onto your back, onto the mattress, your breath hitching and your eyes closing in anticipation. He dropped a kiss onto your collarbone. Another just above your cleavage. Another onto the top of your breasts. His thumbs brushed right below them.
You wanted more. You always wanted more. You needed more.
But he was just trailing kisses along your breasts, never lingering for long enough, never biting or sucking or licking and as much as you were enjoying this... You needed more.
"Rooster", you sighed, dragging your hands through his hair because you needed more. He hummed against your skin. You could feel the vibration all over. "Roos, please."
He grinned - against your skin at first, before he looked up and right at you. "What was that?"
You bit down on your lip. God damn him. He always did this. Every single time, he did this. And the worst part was: You didn't even mind. You didn't mind begging, you didn't mind pleading, you didn't mind doing so much of it that you couldn't do, couldn't say anything else anymore. So you did just that.
"Please", you repeated, a little breathlessly. Rooster's grin widened.
And then he pulled away completely.
You could have screamed. You honestly thought, just for a second, that he would leave you lying there - panting and begging for him, with a bare chest and arousal heating up every part of you. But of course not. Of course not. This was Bradley fucking Bradshaw. He didn't leave you unsatisfied.
No.
Rooster got up from the bed only to grab you by the waist, to pull you down to the edge and kneel down on the floor. You swallowed hard. He fiddled with your shoes first, loosening the laces and taking them off, tugging down your socks and your pants and oh dear lord, you couldn't concentrate on anything he was doing.
He was kneeling in front of your bed. You bit back a moan from that alone.
Any and all forms of Bradley Bradshaw were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but to you, nothing would ever top the sight of him on his knees for you.
You tuned back in when your jeans thumped to the floor, when his fingertips danced softly, teasingly up your calves, up your knees, up your thighs. You clenched your jaw when he reached your underwear, when his eyes met yours again in one final reassurance that this was what the both of you wanted, and then he pulled it down your legs too and hooked his hands behind your thighs.
Your eyes fluttered shut. You took a deep breath - one, two, one, two.
One, two.
One, two.
You frowned and blinked open your eyes again.
Rooster was staring at you, blatantly staring at you with a knowing smirk plastered on his lips and his fingers digging into your hips, sure to hold you in place, not allowing you to push even an inch closer to him.
"Roos", you whined, for what already felt like the dozenth time tonight, your hand sinking into his hair, splaying out, tugging at the strands, trying your hardest to pull him in. He didn't move.
"Yes?", he asked, with that grin just deepening, telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.
Of course he did. Of course he'd make you- God, of course, of course, of course! It had been his idea. It had been his plan, his wish, his goddamn idea and now he was making you-
"Fuck", you grumbled, teeth digging into your bottom lip. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to do this because he hadn't even had you lying here for five minutes and he already wanted you to do this. "Roos, just-"
He bit down softly on the skin of your thigh then, pulling a surprised gasp from you, leaving your sentence hanging half-finished in mid air. You had to tilt your head back, had to throw a hand over your face because gods, you couldn't look at him now! Not with his breath meeting your thigh, with the feeling of his moustache against your skin, not with that grin on his lips. If you did, you'd melt in less than a heartbeat. You weren't about to give in that easily.
At least that was what you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra - he had barely touched you, he was the one who'd wished for this, you wouldn't... you weren't... you hadn't...
Fuck!
"C'mon honey", he encouraged, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath. He was close, so close now and he had you wound so tightly, so incredibly tightly that you felt like you were burning up from inside and-
"Bradley", you gave in, the word falling, tumbling from your lips in almost a moan. "Please, Bradley, please."
He was on you in a heartbeat. Licking a stripe up your slit, tongue flattened and you cried out, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling, pushing, back arching off the bed as he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. He dove in like a starved man, licking, pushing, tasting you, devoured and ravaged you, took everything and gave everything at the same time.
Bradley was a god. You'd never had a man eat you out like this until you met him.
His hands pressing against your hips to hold you down, to keep you right there for him, not letting you move an inch from him, only letting you push impossibly closer, your mind, your body screaming more. More, more, more. More of him. More from him. More him.
His tongue found your clit. You cried his name into the vast nothingness of your bedroom, eyes squeezing close and hand cramping into the sheets next to your head, thighs clamping around his head, caging him in, his palms forcing your back still on the mattress.
You could faintly make out your own moans, your own voice as his tongue circled, traced and dipped -
More.
He drew your clit into his mouth. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, send a shiver through your body, make your legs twitch.
Please.
He sunk his tongue into you, brushed your clit, up and down and everywhere.
Bradley.
You were coming close. Close, so close. Every inch of your skin was tensing in anticipation, clenching, clutching. You babbled something of the sort, not listening to yourself, not able to, not starting or stopping, controlling none of your words, none of the sounds falling from your lips. Bradley loosened one of his palms from your hips and immediately you were pushing, arching up, held down a heartbeat later as he pinned his arm down again, his tongue working you, not faltering once and-
pressure.
His thumb on your clit.
You screamed out his name.
Your nails dug into his scalp. Your heels clasped around his back. Every single nerve in your body was on fire. And Bradley didn't stop.
He worked you right through your high, circling his thumb on your clit and sinking his tongue into you, holding you down, holding you close until you were panting, gasping, your legs unclasping from his head, your fingers loosening in his hair, loosening from the bedsheets, your eyes fluttering open, meeting his and only then did he relent. He pulled back softly, stilling his thumb and pressing a kiss to your thigh, watching you as you slowly came back to reality, back to him.
You blinked once. Twice.
He pulled his thumb from you as he rose up from the floor, running his hands along your sides instead, along your ribs, your breasts, your throat, studying the irregular rise and fall of your chest, mapping out your body beneath his. You watched with parted lips as he brought both his hands steadily down next to your head, as he leaned down to meet you in a kiss - heavy and heady and intense and full of all the right emotions. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
But before you could do any more, press yourself up or pull him down, he was gone again, hot breath meeting your lips and that familiar smile crawling back up onto his face.
"Enjoying yourself?", he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, catching the light of the overhead lamp. Wetness glistened on his moustache. You bit down on your bottom lip, doing your hardest to conceal the smile that was fighting to get to the surface.
Instead, you let out an agreeable hum and brought your hand up to his stache to wipe at it, to wipe some of you off him and admittedly, you already knew that wouldn't do much - but the simple act of innocently cleaning him off like that, fingers brushing above his mouth, just caressing his skin, it made something in your stomach churn.
"How about you? Now that we've checked one wish off your list... Any more?", you muttered, trailing your fingers along his cheek, down his scars, following those lines of skin you knew so well, burning them into your mind, burning him into your mind. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. You didn't think there was anyone as beautiful out there. Your breath hitched, fingertips catching on a birthmark, before you snapped your eyes back up to his. "Any more wishes at all, Bradley?"
A sort of grunt left him as you did your best not to grin - you knew just what buttons to push, didn't you?
"You know", he muttered, dropping his head, brushing his nose down the sensitive skin of your throat. "I could think of a few more things."
"Yeah?", you asked, just on the right side of breathless again, skin tingling wherever he decided to place a few deliberate, almost chaste kisses. "Like what?"
He'd worked his way down to your breasts again, still holding himself up with both his hands.
"I could fuck you nice and slow, just like you deserve it", he said softly, the words flowing from him as easily as if he were talking about breakfast the next day. Rational, sober, collected. You, on the other hand, could feel the wetness pooling in between your legs again. You couldn't believe how reasonable, how practical, how composed he could stay while he said things like that - how he'd fuck you, how he'd eat you out, how he'd pull every single thought from your mind with his fingers and his mouth and his cock.
"Or", he went on, completely unbothered still, stopping in between words to drop kisses onto your breasts. "I could fuck you hard and fast, because that's what you want, right?"
A moan tumbled from your lips all of its own accord, your eyes fluttering shut again. He was conjuring visuals in your mind that had you clenching your legs together, hands clawing their way back up into his hair - you needed something to keep you here and now, to keep you grounded.
"I'm right, honey, aren't I?", he muttered, obviously satisfied with himself. "You want me to fuck you rough, don't you?"
You were sure you'd crossed some border into heaven and just hadn't realised it. This man would truly be the death of you one day.
"Yes", you breathed, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. "Yes, please, Bradley."
You could feel his grin against your bare skin.
"You look so pretty begging for me, honey", he smiled, raising himself up and before you could complain much about it, before you could as much as open your eyes again, he was dropping a kiss to your lips, long and longing, parted lips pressed against each other, breathing each other in.
Then he pulled away from you completely and you did let a whine fall from your lips after all, raising yourself up onto your elbows to blindly follow after him as he straightened up and then bent down to pull off his shoes, his socks, to fumble with his belt - all in fucking slow motion apparently, that's how long it took, two hours just to take off his goddamn socks and you were just sitting there, staring, blinking, hazy mind clearing up the way it always had to after you'd been so close to him, watching, staring, watching, staring...
An eternity, it seemed, until you grew too impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.
You pushed yourself up, reached for his belt yourself, pulled it from its buckle, unhooked it, opened it finally, finally, finally! and blinked up at him again, all wide eyes and smudged lipstick and swollen lips and Bradley felt pretty sure he died a little just then - this had to be heaven, you had to be heaven. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and your tongue ran along your lips and he had to swallow hard.
His jeans fell to the floor, chased quickly by his boxer briefs and you took a deep breath as you looked at him, leaning forward, leaning in to reach for him-
He took both your hands in his and pushed you down on the mattress again, another of those pathetic whines dropping from your lips at being denied the feeling of him.
"Fuck, Roos, please", you begged, sounding pitiful to your own ears by now, pleading for something you knew he'd give to you anyway, just so goddamn impatient that you couldn't even help the words rolling off your tongue.
He let go of your hands, reached for your waist instead to pull you up, to tug you firmly farther up the mattress until he could follow after safely, until he could nudge your knees apart and trail a line of kisses up your shoulder, his hands finding their usual spot next to your head.
"What was that, honey?", he grinned against your skin, holding himself up above you to look you right in the eyes.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled a moan from yourself and a similar groan from him, squeezed your eyes shut and had immediately forgotten what it'd been you'd said before. What it'd been he was asking about.
He brought one hand down to your thigh, squeezing tight, holding you even tighter to him, and pressed his hips down into the mattress, pulling another moan from you and, again, a similar groan from himself, making sure that you couldn't move against him on your own, that you were completely at his mercy.
As always.
"Please", you whined, desperate now, trying to rock your hips against his and not succeeding, not succeeding because he was holding you still, holding you down, holding you helpless and defenseless, withholding the one goddamn thing you wanted from him right now. And after all that talk too! "Roos, please, Bradley, do something."
You were far from whining now, breathless and moaning and sobbing basically, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, begging and pleading and he was just holding still, doing nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing and you wanted more, you wanted something, anything.
"Look at me", he panted then - the only sign at all that he was somehow affected by this as well. "Look at me, honey, open your eyes."
And what else were you supposed to do but follow that command, grant him that wish?
So you forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look at him.
A thin layer of sweat gleaned on his skin. His stare was fixed on you and you alone. And his pupils had dilated so far that his usually hazel eyes were practically black now. You sucked in an unsteady breath.
"Good girl", he praised and you were done for.
You could have come from that alone.
Those two words, breathed into the nothingness of the room, onto your lips, onto your naked skin, sent a shiver down your spine, down your back and your hips and your legs, a shiver so violent that it pulled a moan right with it, a string of them. You barely heard Bradley's groan above you before he pulled away just the slightest bit, pulled away to brush his hand down your side, down your chest, down your hips, between your bodies, to reach for himself and stroke his tip through the wetness between your legs, your back arching off the mattress, into him, into more of him and-
"Wait", you panted.
Bradley froze immediately. His expression shifted to worry in the span of half a second, furrowing his brows and pulling away from you.
"What's wrong?", he asked, still breathless. You closed your eyes and took a breath, tensing, forcing yourself to keep down on the mattress, even as cold settled on your skin now that he wasn't warming you up anymore - inches away from you again. Considerate idiot.
"Just-", you stopped, opened your eyes, looked right at him. "Do you think Jake suspects anything?"
Bradley kept still for a few seconds. A shallow breath and another, your chest rising and falling and you had a hard time thinking, even now that he was barely touching you anymore. You were wound tightly, and you'd been so close, and now...
"You're not seriously thinking about Jake right now", Bradley said, almost accusingly.
You had to admit, it was a bit strange - you were naked, panting, your legs wrapped around his hips, and still you were thinking about Jake, about the bet, about what you'd said hours ago at the bar. You hadn't even been thinking about it, really. It had just come to you, overwhelming you, and you... you had needed to get it out. Still, you did have to admit, it was absurd.
So you bit down on your lip to conceal a smile, a grin, trailed your hands to his hair to brush it behind his ears, almost innocently (but just almost).
"I'm sorry, I just...", you whispered, stroking your hands down his scalp. "We've kept this between us for three weeks now. I don't want to have ruined that."
Bradley shook his head at you, dropped it to his chin, his curls brushing your nose, your cheeks, and sighed onto the skin of your throat.
"You're unbelievable", he muttered, dropping a kiss between your breasts now that he knew you weren't uncomfortable or afraid or anything of the sort in the slightest. Your breath hitched again. You didn't want to talk about this. You wanted him inside you, wanted him to make good on his promise from before. But you knew you had to, because otherwise the thought wouldn't leave you alone, even though the coil in your stomach, the heat in your body screamed bloody murder at you for it.
He looked back up, raised his chin again to meet your eyes.
"Don't worry about Jake", he reassured, one hand starting to softly, just so very softly, brush up and down your side. You had to swallow. "He won't even remember tomorrow."
He dropped another kiss onto your skin, a little further down, that grin, that moustache against your ribs.
"And I'll make sure you won't remember either, pretty girl. Alright?"
You nodded so quickly you almost got a head rush, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, head tilting back just the slightest, your fingers digging into his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, the covers rustling as he settled further back, as his breath ghosted over your center again.
"Need to hear you say it, honey. Say it for me."
"Please", you babbled instantly, not even thinking, not even close, not when Bradley was giving you such easy instructions to follow. "Please, Roos, please."
You could feel him shake his head, obviously unsatisfied, breathing hard, hands travelling up and down your thighs and nothing more, leaving you in some state of being touched but not really being touched and you felt like going insane again.
"Try again, honey", he tutted, and you were already about to plead, to beg even more when he went on - "Look at me, baby, look at me and try again."
You blinked open your eyes, tilted your head down to look at him, all pretty and wide-eyed, just like he'd asked, your fingers cramping in his hair.
"Please, Roos-"
He raised his eyebrows and you knew then, you knew where your mistake had been - you should've known before, you should've-
"Bradley", you moaned. "Please, Bradley, I want you. I need you."
He grinned at that, dropped a kiss to your thigh before flattening his tongue against your folds again, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes stayed fixed on his, but only because you knew he wanted you to, only because you knew he needed you to. His palms splayed out against the backs of your thighs, keeping them still, as always.
His tongue drew a circle on your clit and you arched off the bed, into him, a whine tumbling from your lips, followed by his name. He pulled back much too quickly, much too easily, with a much too satisfied grin on his lips, looking up at you for just a second before he leaned down to drop a kiss to your hip.
"Bradley", you complained, cut off by your own moan when you felt his fingers trail through your wetness instead of his tongue, all soft and slow and you rocked your hips against his hand - more friction, more touch, more, more, more.
You hadn't been kidding when you'd said that you wanted him. That you needed him.
Bradley chuckled, kissing his way up your body again, one hand next to your head to hold himself up just the way he'd done before, but his fingers brushing, stroking, his thumb on your clit, moan after moan spilling from you. You needed more. More.
You tried to shift closer, tried to cant your hips into his palm for more, blinking up at him and whimpering and fuck, Bradley was just human after all, how could he deny you anything if you looked at him like that? So he started drawing little circles with his thumb, little circles on your clit, and pushed a finger into you.
You rewarded him with the soft sound of his name rolling off your tongue, your hands reaching for his arms, clawing at his biceps. You had needed this, had needed him and now... Now you needed more. More, even as he pulled his finger from you and pushed in again, starting in a slow, easy rhythm, drawing little moans, quiet whimpers from you. You rocked your hips back onto him, pushed for more. More.
"More", you voiced your thoughts, begging, pleading again - you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted! And you'd been so close, you'd been so goddamn close, but now he was just lazily pushing his finger into you, with one of those grins on his lips that told you he knew what he was doing incredibly well too. He was a tease, a goddamn tease, and you-
"More what, honey?", Bradley asked, interrupting your thoughts, your spiraling thoughts as his finger moved ever so slowly, teasing, playing.
You let out a whine as he stilled completely, his finger nestled inside you, touching you but not touching you enough, not nearly enough and he'd make you go crazy one day, he would! You tried to push your hips into his hand. Not that it did anything.
"More what?", Bradley asked again, looked at you as you refocused on his face, his eyes because you knew he'd want you to. He always wanted you to look at him.
"Please", you whispered. "Bradley."
His smile deepened, but he didn't move.
"Nice try, baby", he chuckled. "But that wasn't the question."
You grumbled and tilted your head back, squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You wanted more. And he was making you say exactly what.
Putting the power in your hands, it seemed - but you knew it wasn't that. He'd already promised you to do just what you wanted, had said it so easily, so soberly that he'd left you dazed. And now he was asking you to do the same.
You couldn't. He knew you couldn't.
So you let out a small whimper, let your head fall to the side to look at him again, eyes wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip and kept still as best as you could, even as the desire, the need to fuck yourself on his finger grew with every passing breath - trying to make sure that he wouldn't tease you further. He'd done that before already, you knew that he could and he would.
He seemed to have realised it too, your legs, your hips calm now, your eyes fixed on his.
"Please fuck me, Bradley", you said softly, only a little breathlessly, a little nervous around the edges, doing your best not to let your restraint show. You weren't used to just saying stuff like that out loud. It was different, somehow, to say it, and to say it right to his face too.
But as much as you tried to hide it, your body still had the same reaction - breath coming shorter, heat shooting straight to your cheeks, the coil in your stomach tightening again.
Bradley's eyes on yours didn't make it any better.
Neither did his grin as he pulled his finger from you, pulled a moan from your lips right with it, as he brushed it through your folds, up and down before his fingertip stopped on your clit.
"Fuck you how, honey?", he asked. He wanted you to lose your mind, you were sure of that. You bit down on your lip, furrowed your brows, forced yourself to think, to keep thinking even though he was drawing circles on your clit now, bringing you back to the endless loop of more, more, more in your mind.
"Fuck me-", you panted, starting and stopping, closing your eyes. "Rough, please, Bradley. Please."
He pulled his fingers from you entirely, chuckling as you mewled and blinked up at him again, as you watched him raise his hand to your lips. You parted them in reflex, let him push his fingers into your mouth, rest them on your tongue. This, finally, was something you felt much less nervous about. So you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his fingers clean.
Bradley had you well acquainted with the taste of yourself by now. Not that you minded.
You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on his as you brushed your tongue along his fingertips. He let out some sort of sound caught between a moan and a groan and a curse and, maybe, your name, and you had a hard time keeping your grin concealed as you sucked, spurred on not only the fire in your own abdomen, but in Bradley's as well, red heating up your cheeks and your legs growing restless.
You were getting impatient again. You needed more.
Luckily, it seemed that Bradley had about enough of this as well.
He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, shook his head with a grin, trailed a line of your spit around your breasts, around your nipples.
"You look sinful", he muttered, dropping a kiss to your lips before you could even begin to think about a response, all open mouth and breathing each other in, the taste of you on both your tongues. "Tell me again how you want me to fuck you rough, honey. Just once more. Can you do that for me?"
You nodded, nodded without thinking, panting a bit now, pressing your legs together at his voice, at the look in his eyes, at... at him, at everything about him. You needed him. You'd do anything he asked.
"Fuck me rough, Bradley. Please."
His eyes darkened further. He brought his lips down on yours again, firmer now, heavier now, claiming your mouth, your tongue, your lips, claiming you, back to the familiar, thrilling predator and prey game that the two of you had abandoned at some point along the way.
"Good girl", he rasped.
You let out a pitiful moan. God, this man would absolutely be the death of you.
Good girl.
You couldn't press your legs together any further, couldn't possibly get any more friction, could only whine and whimper and moan and wait, wait as Bradley reached between your bodies and finally, finally, finally pushed into you.
You'd been waiting for this for the past five days.
You let out some pathetic sounding sob of his name as he pressed his hips snugly to yours, stretching you out in the best of possible ways, dropping his lips to your throat, to your neck. You clawed at his arms, at his shoulders, pulled him close to you, even closer. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, breath hitching.
Bradley gave you the entirety of half a second to adjust to him, half a second in which you could barely get past the moan of his name before he was moving, thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of you, drawing sounds you'd have been embarrassed about in any other situation.
But you could barely hear them.
You could barely do anything other than moan, anything other than scratch, hold, claw at him, anything other than let him wrap your legs around his waist and push in, pull out, push in again, his hold on your thigh so firm you'd see the marks tomorrow.
He fucked you with a relentlessness that reduced you to a mess of numb limbs, that pulled every last thought from you, one by one - with a rhythm, unfaltering, unwavering, with soft grunts and moans rolling off his tongue, with his mouth moving against your skin, working his way up to yours.
You met his lips in a frenzy, your hands tangled somewhere in his hair, your nails scratching somewhere down his back, your legs wrapped around his hips, your lips parted, your moans swallowed, his cock sliding in and out of you, the delicious drag of him building, setting alight the coil in your stomach.
You'd been waiting for this for too long. You wouldn't last much longer, not after he'd already pulled the first orgasm from you. Not after he'd been building you up for so long.
"Bradley", you moaned against his lips. "More."
He pulled back an inch and you blinked your eyes open, focused on him, on the blush on his cheeks and the rise and the fall of his chest as he slowed down a bit, drawing another whine from you, feeling different now, slower yes, but more deliberate maybe, more teasing maybe, hitting other spots, dragging it out, feeling more and less intense all the same and - most importantly - letting your close, so close grow weaker and weaker and weaker.
"You know-", Bradley panted, letting his thumb brush over the skin of your thigh, loosening his grip just the slightest. "You know how to ask, pretty girl."
A sob made its way past your lips. You wanted more, you needed more - you'd be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, but you forgot, you brushed right past it when he had you like this. So wasn't it his fault, really?
"Fuck me harder, Bradley", you whimpered - you'd lost the ability to feel embarrassed somewhere along the way. You didn't care anymore, not with his cock so slowly sliding in and out of you, not with his eyes on yours, not with... no, not anymore, you needed more now and you were desperate to get it, already rocking your hips back onto him in search of more - more friction, more touch, more him.
He pressed his lips to yours again, back to claiming you, back to firm, back to teeth and tongue before pulling away, pulling out, pulling another wail from you as he sat back on his ankles, hard and panting.
Then his hands clasped around your waist and you had no time to react before he had turned you over, your face smushed into the pillow, fingers reaching up to dig into the sheets.
He thrust back into you in one swift motion.
And you screamed.
You didn't know how he did it - you didn't want to know, really - but he hit that sensitive spot inside of you instantly, the new position allowing new depth, allowing new touches, new feelings, new and more and you couldn't think, could only touch, only feel.
Only touch, only feel him.
The drag of him, the push of him, the way he hit all those spots he needed to hit to have you up there, to have you close within seconds again.
He trailed his fingertips along your spine, sent a shiver through your body as he fucked you rough, just like you'd asked of him so very, very nicely. He reached your neck, reached around to your throat and when his fingers brushed along your jaw, he clasped his hand around it and pulled. Pulled you up, right to his chest, sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned his name.
You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, gave him more skin to touch, more of your body to claim, more of you to make his as he thrust relentlessly into you, as his other hand brushed between your legs, up your thighs until his fingers met your clit, pushed down and pulled an even louder moan of his name from you.
His hand closed around your throat at the same time.
You choked back a gasp, breath hitching, back arching off him and into him both, more and less clashing in your mind because this was what you wanted, this was what you'd begged him for, but all of it so suddenly, following each other so closely - too much, not enough.
You clenched around him.
Bradley let out a moan - his lips against your ear, the sound of it in every fibre of your body, of your mind, of your soul. And that was it for you.
You came with another cry of his name - a scream, a sob, maybe, or none of it, you weren't sure - maybe you let out no sound at all, rendered silent for once. The world was white for a second, your mouth dry, your throat hoarse, pleasure coarsing through every vein, every limb, every muscle, every bone.
You went slack against him. Your legs gave out, your eyes fell shut, your arms, your hands loose at your sides, and the only reason you didn't fall back onto your mattress were Bradley's arms around you - on your throat, around your hips. His fingertips circling your clit still, his hips snug to yours as he bit down on your shoulder, as he reached his own high, his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin, grounding you as your breath slowly came back to normal, as you won back the feeling in your legs.
You stayed still for a minute - just catching your breath, allowing yourself to take whatever time you needed to come back to yourself, to really notice the way Bradley held you up all on his own, the way his chest felt against your back, the way he had his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder, the way his thumbs brushed ever so softly up and down, one along your throat, one along your stomach.
You never wanted this to end.
You were warm and safe and satisfied in his arms.
A slow smile spread on your face. Bradley's breath fanned softly over the shell of your ear. You could feel your own heart beat in your chest.
"Satisfied now, honey?", Bradley rasped, voice rough in all the right ways, his lips ghosting over your neck. You let out a soft hum in agreement. He chuckled against your skin.
"I'm gonna let go of you now, princess", he cautioned (you could just so push back the whine that wanted to escape) before ever so slowly, ever so carefully pulling his hand from your throat, pulling his arm from around you - softly pushing down on your back instead, hands wrapped around your hips again, laying you back down on the mattress and then turning you over. The bed was cold in comparison to him. Cold and lonely.
He had to pull out as he lay you down and that whine left your lips after all - you were empty and cold and lonely now and you wanted him, more of him, all of him again. Your legs were mushy and your mind still reeling, but you didn't have to think much anyway, not when you knew just what you wanted. You reached out, arms, hands in mid air as you tried to grab him, any of him.
He was sitting back on his ankles, running his hands through his hair, meeting your eyes as he saw you reach out for him. He looked positively exhausted.
You got hold of his hands and pulled him down, onto you. He brought them - and yours right with them - down next to your head in reflex, effectively pinning you down, and though neither of you had planned that, you still had to fight back a smile.
You were breathless, chest still heaving with the sticky intoxication of the moment, sweaty and hot and satisfied, truly, and you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms now and let you fall asleep on his chest.
Instead, he leaned in with a grin and kissed you. Kissed you with all the fiery passion fading into heady contentment, slow and deliberate, because he had all the time in the world now - it was the middle of the night and both of you were growing tired, your bones heavy, your muscles aching deliciously, your thoughts quiet, lazy almost. The middle of the night where romance could now dominate what had before been lust's reign.
That was what this felt like, Bradley's body on yours, his skin sticky with sweat, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing down into the mattress. This felt like golden honey dripping down onto the reality of the moment, like gods' ichor flowing in your veins, like unnecessarily long and flowery metaphors for a feeling you felt too afraid to name this early on.
Bradley pulled away, let go of your hands and sat back once more - you followed him on some invisible kind of string, pushing up onto your palms, blinking at him in confusion.
He dropped another quick kiss onto your lips with a chuckle.
"Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?", he asked, a grin playing on his lips, his hands brushing over your ribcage, your stomach as though he, too, had some carnal need to keep touching you, to keep his fingertips moving over your skin at all times.
You closed your eyes, allowed the smile on your face to grow as wide as it wanted, and nodded at him.
"Yes, please, Roos", you mumbled, bathing in the yellow light of your bedroom lamp, in the soft buzzing of the ac, in the rhythmic tic-toc of your kitchen clock. In all these daily-life things, because they weren't daily-life right now. Right now, Bradley had just fucked you, right now, Bradley was sitting in front of you, right now, Bradley had his hands on your body, right now... Right now, you were happy, happy and satisfied, content with the world.
"Back to Rooster, are we?", he asked, drew his hands back from you and got up. Your smile deepened.
"I thought you liked your callsign", you quipped back innocently, eyes opening again as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your mattress, into the air, just because he could, just because you wanted him to. You didn't think you'd ever possibly get tired of his strength. He was a bit like your own, personally crafted superhero.
"I do", he muttered. You crossed your arms behind his neck, pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "But the entire squad uses it."
"Oh", you said, exactly like that, because oh, indeed. "So when I say Rooster..."
"I think of work."
You pulled back a bit to look at him, even as his eyes were focused on the wall, trying to find the light switch for the bathroom.
"And you don't like that", you concluded, teeth digging into your bottom lip as a thought struck you. "You don't like thinking of work, Lieutenant?"
Bradley froze.
Bullseye.
"What did you say?"
His eyes focused on you, fixated on you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. You did your best try at an innocent smile, at a doe-eyed look somehow, but you doubted you achieved anything even remotely close.
"Lieutenant", you muttered again, heat pooling in your lap once more simply at the look on his face. You'd uncovered another one of his layers and you were already anticipating the consequences. "Do you want me to beg again?"
#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#top gun x reader#bradley bradshaw smut#top gun#top gun smut#x reader#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader
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Written for the @steddiemicrofic September challenge.
Take a Picture, It'll Last Longer
September Prompt: Shower | Word Count: 399 | Rating: M | CW: Locker Room Nudity | Tags: Pre-Steddie, Set During S2, Hitting the Showers, Steve Harrington Has A Big Dick, And Eddie Munson Can't Help But Notice
Eddie always waits until the crowd clears a bit before he finds a spot around the circle of showerheads. He doesn't like this part of the day, but he doesn't like to smell like a sweaty ball sack, either.
So, he waits his turn, sprawled across the wooden bench in the locker room, debating on if he'd get away with lighting up a cigarette. Maybe, but he really doesn't need another suspension. Or a third senior year.
When he sees the last of the loud, grab-assing jocks exit, he heaves himself to standing, heading towards the shower room.
And is promptly stunned by the sight of naked Steve Harrington, head tilted back, water spraying on his face like he's in a goddamn porno.
Eddie's stuck. Eyes unable to look away, as they just rove over Steve's body, going down, down, down.
He's fucking big.
A shower in the shower.
That's all Eddie can think. Steve's a shower, not a grower, and Eddie's transfixed, knowing he shouldn't be staring, but he's still gonna, and if he gets caught, well, fuck it. Worth it. Harrington can whip his ass if he wants.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Steve says, eyes still closed, and Eddie isn't sure how he even knows Eddie's there.
"Does it have its own headshots to pass out to the fan club?"
And Steve barks a laugh at that, opening his eyes, meeting Eddie's.
"Now there's an idea," Steve says smiling, totally unbothered. Eddie would be unbothered too, if his dick was that big hanging soft against his thigh. King Steve might be dethroned, but he's clearly still well-deserving of his confidence.
Eddie steps up to the adjacent showerhead, turning the handle, starting his own spray. Steve hands him the bar of soap, and this is the most homoerotic thing he's ever experienced. He takes it, lathering it up in his hands.
"What's it like being a shower?" Eddie asks.
"Wouldn't know," Steve says, all easy-like, as he rinses his hair, "I'm a grower."
"Fuck," Eddie hisses, like he's been scalded, only the water is lukewarm at best now that he's the cow's tail to getting showered.
Steve laughs, and the movement of his arm catches Eddie's attention, eyes following it downwards. Steve cups his cock, and then he meets Eddie's eyes, wet lashes making him look even prettier, "Wanna see?"
Fuck yes, Eddie wants to see.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! 🚿
Notes: I couldn't resist the shower/shower homograph of it all for this prompt.
#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficseptember#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie fic#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddiemicrofic
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I bring you a whipped Drummer!Yuji drabble
Yuji Itadori was in love. It was the blooming kind of love that he couldn't hide even when he was sitting behind the old drum set in the corner of the stage, pretending that cymbals (that were as thin as a hair from the angle you stood in) were hiding the blushing looks he was throwing at you.
"Looks like your drummer wants to bang something else," some drunk shouted from the bar, making the band members hiss at red-faced Yuji until he remembered it was time to cue the next song.
"Focus," Gojo Satoru leaned over the drum kit to stick out a long finger and tap it a few times between Yuji's eyebrows, "Fo-cus, yeah?" He tried to catch Yuji's gaze with his piercing blue eyes, which evidently worked only on women - since the boy couldn't focus on anything but how beautiful he thought you looked when you furrowed your brows and spouted insults at another overcharging supplier.
"Focus," Yuji finally uttered back, giving Gojo a resolute nod as he tightened the grip on his drumsticks, "Got it."
He didn't. He played every song far too fast, being too eager for the show to end because he had told himself for weeks that today would be the day he finally asked you out. He promised himself about thirty times he wouldn't back out this time - he even practiced in front of the mirror, although he wasn't proud of that.
When the show finally ended, he rushed off the stage, fearing his courage would disappear before he got to the wooden bar where you poured drinks to already tipsy customers.
"H-Hello," Yuji stuttered, fiddling with his drumsticks. How can you already stutter at hello?
"Oh, you must want the band's cut of the evening," you smiled, and his heart was about to leap out of his chest, "It will take about an hour to be ready."
"Oh, It's not that, I just wanted to - uh," his cheeks flushed bright pink.
You chuckled, "I promise we're not trying to rip you off. The boss is just a bit slow, that's all."
You could almost see the wheels in Yuji's mind stop turning, "Ah - sure, thank you."
But it's alright because he'll try again after the next show, and the one after that. Hell, he'll try every show until he'll finally squeeze out the words, will you go out with me?
#yuji x reader#itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader#yuji itadori x reader#yuji itadori x y/n#yuji itadori x you#yuji x you#yuji x y/n#itadori yuji x you#itadori yuji x y/n#yuuji x reader#yuuji x y/n#yuuji x you#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk yuji x reader
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moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th
Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU
Warnings for this Chapter: 18+! MDNI! alcohol, smut (not super graphic, but it's definitely there), Daryl?
Word Count: 1,4k
a/n: *ahem* The smut scene is heavily inspired by that one scene in the movie 'Sky' - whoopsies. I don't regret anything. Have fun reading!
《 M a s t e r l i s t 》
《 Chapter Four 》 《 Chapter Six 》
Chapter Five...
...in which you pick up where you left off with the handsome biker - in the hopes of something more.
gif by @dixons-sunshine
Lost in your eyes Drowning in blue Out of control What can I do I'm addicted to you
'Addicted to You' by Avicii
Daryl's deep, raspy voice seemed to urge to your ears from somewhere far away; brain slowly but surely catching up. All the noises around you returned. People talking and laughing, music, the sound of glass against glass, various sounds of Pinball machines and pool games.
You blinked and tried to get a grip again somehow. "W-What are you doing here? I thought you'd never set foot in this city again..." You managed to ask; feeling your heart hammering wildly against your ribcage. A small laugh slipped past the biker's lips. "Me neither. Didn't think I'd cross 'em borders again, but here we are."
All you could do was to stare and finding yourself getting lost in the moment and the fact that he was truly standing right in front of you - until his voice brought you back down to earth again. "You done starin' now? Ain't nothin' ya didn't see before," Daryl stated with a tiny smirk and gestured towards the pool tables. "You gonna join me or wha'?"
It was an offer you couldn't decline.
Everything felt so familiar. Like you were reliving the memory inside your head. Except that it was real. The bar. The game of pool you played. The drinks. The conversations...
Daryl's skin on yours. His touch. His kisses. A dream and yet you could feel it happening.
He had trapped your nude form against the windowsill of his motel room. One hand was gripping the wooden surface, while the other mapped out your torso; gentle fingertips skimming your ribs and leaving goosebumps behind. His lips were attached to your shoulder; bruising and marking the supple skin. You had the feeling that it wasn't as needy and primal like the first time, but nevertheless thrilling. It left your nerve ends sizzling in anticipation and excitement.
His teeth grazed your skin which caused a small squeak alongside a moan to escape your lips. The hand that wasn't pressed against Daryl's already hot and sweaty chest reached immediately for his hair. Your fingers tangled in his chestnut brown curls; tucking softly. "D-Daryl..." The biker groaned against your skin. You could feel his hips aimlessly bucking against yours. "Shit, woman, yer drivin' me nuts," he panted and lifted his head. Wide blown blue-grey eyes looked down at you. The hand which had been gripping the windowsill was now raised above your head; fisting the quite ugly curtain. The moonlight flooding through the gaps where said curtain wasn't covering the window pane was the only source of light which illuminated the sparse room. It dipped everything in a soft blue. Despite the darkness outweighing the light, you could still make out every inch of Daryl.
You knew it wouldn't be. You both knew it wouldn't be - but for entirely different reasons... You, because you had clearly fallen in love with the biker and his gruff, yet sweet exterior and Daryl... Because of the promised mind-blowing sex.
Wrapping one arm around your waist, he easily hoisted you up and sat your bare ass down on the windowsill; letting his hand glide to your knee and urging you on to wrap your leg around him. Your body complied - working on its own will.
"We ended up in the same situation again, huh? Me between dem pretty legs of yours..." Daryl whispered while slightly adjusting his stance. "Bet it won't be the last time."
Daryl let his hips finally collide against yours then; catapulting you straight to heaven. You whined in pleasure; fingernails digging into the skin on his back. "D-Damnit...," he cursed under his breath at your electric touch. His jaw clenched.
Daryl's words sent another wave of arousal through your body - and managed to colour the rose-coloured glasses you wore in an even deeper shade.
You bit your lip, in order to suppress the moans which threatened to leave your throat as he started to move. Daryl buried his head in your neck to muffle his own groans and grunts, while one of his hands was steadying you - keeping you safely and securely seated on the windowsill. The other was still pressed against the window pane above your head, twisting the soft fabric of the ugly curtain. He definitely needed something to hold on to. His biceps bulged; a thin layer of sweat covering his tanned skin.
"F-Fuck, I missed this..." the biker groaned into your ear with his deep, gruff voice and pressed your body closer against his. His palm was splayed on your bare lower back.
"I-I missed you, t-," your unfinished sentence ended in a high pitched moan, as he made you see stars; sending you straight into the deepest depths of pleasure. You dragged him with you.
His sweaty forehead was resting against your bare shoulder as he was catching his breath. You panted; one hand of yours finding its way into his hair. "You didn't fail to take my breath away - again." Daryl lifted his head and shook some stray strands out of his face; a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. "Guess 'm doin' something right then." You smiled and let your other hand slide from his tattooed shoulder blade to his chest and squeezed his hips with your thighs. "Shit, yeah."
Like both, you and Daryl already anticipated and predicted, wasn't it the last time you landed in between the sheets together. The whole two weeks the biker stayed in Montana worked in the same pattern... You'd meet at the bar in the evening and end up in Daryl's motel room. Sure, he was on the road at daytime and even one or two days in a row; depending on how far he had to drive to check out all those special motorcycle dealers and bikes Merle charged him to do, but at the end of the day, he'd mostly end up with you.
To say it's been two pleasurable weeks for Daryl was an understatement.
As for you, it felt like you were caught in a dream. Seeing Daryl again, having him close and the possibility of even starting a relationship was all you wished for - and suddenly it was within your grasp. You were so knee deep in. Everything looked perfect through your rose-coloured glasses, You didn't even bother to think a moment of a different outcome of this whole situation. You were like in a haze - stoned. Daryl being the drug coursing constantly through your bloodstream - and you loved it.
Thanking the nice bartender, you took the two cups with beer and returned to one of the lounge sofas, where Daryl sat; discussing some bike stuff with two strange guys. You placed the cups on the little table and wanted to move to sit beside him, but he immediately stopped you with his arm around your waist. Before you could even ask what he was doing, pulled you the man down to sit on his lap. A small squeak of surprise left your lips - but who were you to complain?
"Yer gonna sit right 'ere on yer favourite seat like a good girl," he whispered in your ear; still donning his sunglasses and a mischievous smirk.
His words sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't help but to blush. It caused the man to grin even wider as he reached for his beer and took a sip.
You listened to the men talk then about their bikes; now and then sipping on your own beer and just watching Daryl with a flutter of your heart. How he gestured with his hands; trying to explain something. How his sunglasses reflected the light of the bar. How he adjusted the black baseball cap on his head from time to time. How his tattooed hand with the skull on it rested on your hip or slid over your midsection to pull you closer. How he bit down on his bottom lip when he decided on what to say.
You couldn't help but to admire is handsomeness... He seemed to be straight out of your personal fairytale book.
Perhaps he was.
You were totally lost in thoughts and daydreams about the man on whose lap you sat. Therefore you didn't see the approaching threat... Your sister.
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#love in the rearview mirror#biker!daryl#biker!daryl dixon#no outbreak au#the walking dead daryl dixon#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fan fiction#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fanfic#twd#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#twd fic#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader smut#twd smut#the walking dead smut
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⛥゚・。 protector: chapter one
synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "
cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.
a/n: reposting from another account
"How much sake can this get me?" you asked in a low voice, slamming down a fistful of berries on the bar.
The entire place went silent at the sight of your wings, the white feathers making you look almost angel-like.
You furled them as the bartender cocked an eyebrow, taking the money, quickly counting it.
"Eh, a cup or two," he stated, a clear smirk on his face as he chuckled under his breath.
You sighed, furrowing your brow.
You unsheathed your mace and placed it on the bar, the dried blood from your last encounter speaking your message clearly.
The man was trembling as his hands went straight in the air, his annoyingly loud whimpering calling the attention of the entire bar.
"I'll ask you again... How much sake can this get me?" you asked, darkly, voice low as your eyes cut him where he stood.
"A bottle, alright! It'll get you a bottle! I'm sorry I tried to scam you! Please don't hurt me!" the man grovelled, tears streaming down his cheeks.
You scoffed, taking your weapon off the counter and sheathing it.
"Just get me the damn drink so I can get out of here," you rolled your eyes.
He frantically nodded his head before turning around, searching the wall full of booze.
"While you're at it... I got a question for you," you started, taking a seat.
The man visibly shivered at your tone.
"I heard this used to be a town where a lot of pirates used to stop. That true?"
"Y-Yeah. It's true. But that was before Captain Morgan made base here. Now, no pirate is daring enough to come anywhere near this village," the bartender nodded, his back to you as he searched the wall for some good sake.
You sighed, "Shame. I've been looking for a certain pirate. Was hoping you could point me in the right direction."
"If you don't mind, might I suggest you ask Roronoa Zoro," the man replied with a smile as he found the bottle, grabbing it and turning around.
'Roronoa Zoro?'
"The pirate hunter?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"He's bound to have heard of the pirate you're looking for. They're keeping him in the marines' prison yard. Usually I wouldn't suggest my clients go breaking into marine property, but you seem strong," the man answered, sliding the bottles.
You grinned, grabbing it and biting off the cork, taking a swig, "Thanks, old man."
"No problem. Sorry for trying to pull a fast one on you," he sheepishly chuckled, waving goodbye.
With that, you got up from your seat, walking out the bar and onto the street.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" you asked a woman that was walking past, "Do you know how to get to the marine base?"
"Just keep walking that way and you should reach it," she smiled, pointing west.
"Thanks," you bowed, allowing your wings to sprout before taking off, the entire marketplace gasping at the sight.
You landed on the ledge of a stone wall that surrounded the prison yard, and saw Zoro bound to a wooden pole
"They really gave you the royal treatment," you chuckled, taking another swig of sake.
He ignored you.
Just then, a boy in a straw hat and a boy with pink hair popped up on both your sides.
"WHO ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE?! AND WHY DO YOU HAVE WINGS?!" the pink one shouted.
"You don't have to shout, kid," you grumbled, rolling your eyes as you rubbed the ear he shouted into.
"I'm sorry, but why are you here?" he apologized, scratching his wrist.
"Yeah! You wanna talk to him or something?" Strawhat asked, turning to you.
"Something like that," you replied, looking away from the two.
"Hey, you three," a deep voice growled from inside the yard.
The three of you looked over to the man of the hour, only to see he had his gaze already locked on you.
"You're an eyesore... Get lost."
"You're not exactly a pretty picture either," you scoffed, taking another swig.
Pink Hair started freaking out, but a girl climbing up a ladder shushed him, looking left and right before lowering a rope, climbing down.
She ran up to Zoro and they began to talk, she holding out something in her hands.
Just then, three guys started to walk over, two being marines and one blonde in a purple suit.
They started talking for a little bit, Blondie eating whatever was in the girl's hands and then spitting it out on the floor, stomping on it.
She started crying.
Blondie looked like he was telling one of his men to do something before a man grabbed her and threw her over the wall.
You quickly jumped in the air and caught her, landing back on the wall.
"Are you okay?" you asked, concerned.
She nodded her head and you sighed as you carefully put her down, Strawhat making his way over to Zoro.
When you got over there, he was feeding Zoro a muddy rice ball.
"What are you two doing?" you asked, cocking a brow at the weird sight.
"He was hungry," Strawhat shrugged.
"Shut up," Zoro spat.
"Whatever. I gotta have a word with you," you started, looking straight at Zoro
"Huh? Talk to me?" the man asked, confused, as he narrowed his eyes at you.
"Being out here so long must be making you deaf, too," you rolled your eyes.
"SHUT UP!"
"Here's the deal. I'll untie you if you promise to join my crew," Strawhat chimed, completely interrupting your conversation.
"What?" Zoro cocked a brow.
'Deaf.'
"I run a pirate crew, and I'm looking for people to join up," the boy explained.
"No way! I'd never stoop to joining up with a criminal. Screw that business," Zoro scoffed.
"Says the man in marine custody," you smirked.
"Will you shut it!"
"And what's wrong with being a pirate?" Strawhat asked.
"They're despicable. Like I'd ever want to join up with one," Zoro answered.
"Oh, come on! Gimme a break. Everyone already knows you as some vicious bounty hunter always out for blood," Strawhat smiled.
"People can say whatever they want about me, but I've never done a single thing in my life that I regret. I will make it through this challenge. And after that, I'll accomplish what I want," Zoro smirked, looking you both in the eye.
"Wait, so you were challenged to stay here?" you asked, raising a brow.
"Yeah. So what?" Zoro glared.
"They're gonna execute you."
"Huh?"
"You're the Roronoa Zoro, and challenge or no the marines can't let you go. They'd be a laughing stock," you explained.
"That's great. But I've already decided that you're going to be on my crew," Strawhat smiled, crossing his arms and still interrupting your conversation.
"What?! You can't do that!" Zoro barked.
"I hear you're one of the best swordsmen around," the boy started.
"I am one of the best swordsmen around. But that idiot captain's son took mine away," Zoro stated.
"Guess I'll just have to go get it back for you. So if you want your sword, you're just gonna have to join my crew."
"Now you're really pissing me off!"
Strawhat laughed as he ran off.
"Wait... he's actually gonna bust in there alone?" he asked.
"Looks like it," you called to the boy, pointing behind you with your thumb. "Strawhat! Pretty sure the base is the other way."
"Gum Gum Rocket!" he shouted, stretching his arm and shooting past you.
Zoro's eyes went wide.
"What the hell is this guy?" He asked himself.
"Another devil fruit user," you chimed.
"Another?" Zoro asked, cocking a brow.
"I ate the Angel-Angel Fruit. It's what gave me these angel wings," you clarified, unfurling your wings as proof.
He looked like he was thinking for a moment.
"You said you wanted to talk to me earlier. Why?"
"I need to know if you've seen a pirate. Doflamingo," you started, drawing your mace and looking at the spikes longingly.
You would give your right arm to drive them through Doflamingo's skull.
"Why?"
"He killed people very close to me and I need to bring him to justice. I figured since you are a pirate hunter, you would've seen something," you answered, brushing your fingertips against the sleek, wooden handle.
He paused for a moment, looking like he was taking in all of the information.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"(y/n)," you answered, lifting your gaze from your weapon and onto the swordsman.
His eyes were a deep onyx, full of ambition and drive, and easily able to slice your spirit with a single glare.
You felt a stirring awake in your stomach but suppressed it.
You looked left and right, and saw no marines in sight.
'Just do it.'
You sighed and tucked your mace back into your holster before standing up and untying him from the pole.
"What are you doing? That maniac is going to kill you for what you're doin' right now," Zoro stated, slightly surprised by your sudden decision.
"I'd like to see him try," you stated, still fiddling with the knot.
It was tied really tight.
"But you said you wanted to talk?" He asked.
"Can't talk to a dead man. I'll break you out, then we can talk afterwards," you answered, narrowing your eyes at the knot as you continued to fuss with it.
"How do you know I won't just leave you?" he asked again.
"I don't," you said simply, quickly glancing up him before turning your attention back to the ropes.
"End of the line," a raspy voice growled.
You both turned to see a man with an ax for a hand and a metal jaw approach you with a whole squad of men.
"For the crime of treason against me, I sentence you both to die where you stand."
You and Zoro narrowed your eyes him and you quickly stepped away from Zoro, drawing your mace.
They all drew their weapons and aimed for you.
"You've been pulling some interesting moves around here. What is this? Some kind of poorly executed coup you two planned with the straw hat?" Ax Hand asked.
"I've always fought alone like a real man does. Not like a coward who hides behind his wall of expendable cronies," Zoro spat.
"Roronoa Zoro. Don't you dare underestimate me. You may be a strong fighter, but under my authority, you're just the rat we throw out with the trash," Ax Hand spat back.
"That must make you the trash man," you chuckled, getting into a fighting stance.
Ax Hand furrowed his eyebrows and growled.
"Take aim!" he ordered.
They cocked their guns but you kept a stone-cold face.
"(y/n), get out of here," Zoro demanded, his tone unfaltering.
"Not a chance," you shrugged him off, keeping your eyes on the marines.
Just then, you heard glass shatter.
"Fire!" Ax Hand shouted.
The men fired their guns and you quickly outstretched your arms, getting ready to do your bullet-dodging technique when Strawhat landed right in front of you and Zoro.
#one piece#op#one piece x reader#op x reader#roronoa zoro#roronoa#zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa x reader#zoro x reader#zorosangell--protector
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