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ellemj · 7 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 7

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read parts 1-6 first for the full effect!**

Summary: Bucky thinks you're avoiding him because you're worried that he caught feelings for you after the night you shared, but he couldn't be more wrong.

Warnings: mentions of previous smut, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI!!!

Word Count: 5k

Author's Note: Where the hell am I going with this? Is it possible for it to get even smuttier before this ends? I think that's where I'm going, down a very smutty rabbit hole. I need to be stopped.

You expected to feel so guilty and distraught after the night that you had with Bucky. You slept with your partner not just once, but five times. All in the same night. Inexplicably, you feel almost completely fine, with your only issues being how sore you are now and figuring out when’s the right moment to give his dog tags back. You’re sure he didn’t expect you to keep them. You’ve barely managed to get along for the past two months that you’ve worked together. There’s no way he’d want you to keep one of his most sacred possessions just because you spent a night together. You’ll give them back sometime today, when the time is right.

You put the tags out of your mind as you finish packing up your small duffel bag. The team sent the quinjet to bring you and Bucky back home after confirming that you were both fine and that the chemical had seemingly cleared your systems. Banner initially wanted to have the two of you enter quarantine when you return to the compound later today, but after a brief conference call with a few biomedical experts in the field, he decided it was overkill. You probably would’ve fought it anyway. After the last 24 hours, all you want is to be back in your suite at the tower, to take a long, hot shower, and then to sleep for twelve hours straight in your own familiar bed. Bucky, however, is on a different page.

His mind hasn’t stopped doing cartwheels since the phone call from Sam that woke you both up an hour ago. You’d played the situation off well, telling Sam that Bucky didn’t answer his phone because he was showering. Sam didn’t question it. Why would he? Everyone on the team is fully aware of yours and Bucky’s working relationship. You’re just barely civil with each other when it’s paramount to the success a mission, or when your lives depend on it, but outside of that? Well, let’s just say that neither of you go out of your way to do any sort of partner bonding.

Bucky finished packing his duffel bag fifteen minutes ago, but he can hear that you’re still working on yours. He wants to walk across the hall and sit on your bed while you pack. He wants to just sit there and have a conversation with you, or if you don’t want to talk, he’d be content just to be around you at this point. He didn’t realize how starved he had been for human connection until last night and now he feels too alone sitting in this room by himself. His thoughts are too loud, the whirring of his vibranium arm is too noticeable, and there’s the looming threat of last night’s events replaying in his mind. If he lets himself think about last night and earlier this morning, he’ll end up with a hard-on. If he ends up with a hard-on, you’ll likely notice and he won’t be able to blame it on the fucking HYDRA chemical from hell this time. For the first time in a while, Bucky doesn’t know what to do with himself.

---

You’re definitely avoiding him. Bucky expected some kind of conversation on the flight back home, but you were quick to seclude yourself into a corner seat to work on typing out your mission report from the last 24 hours. He sat in the row of seats across from you and a little to your right, occasionally glancing over to see you still fully concentrated on your laptop screen, typing away. What were you typing anyway? He was sure that you weren’t going to be putting the full truth in your report, so why were you so concerned with getting it finished before landing in New York?

After the first hour of the flight, he was desperate for you to say just one word to him. Leaning forward in his seat, he rests his elbows on his knees and traces the lines of the palm of his vibranium hand with the index finger of his flesh hand. He could ask you if you slept well those last few hours this morning before Sam called. No, that just sounds like small talk. He could ask you something related to the mission, maybe something about the samples you’re bringing back for testing. That’s what he’ll start with. He sits back once again and focuses his gaze on you, clearing his throat in preparation for starting the conversation, when you suddenly sit up a little straighter and look right at him.

“You should read my report, see if it’s the story we want to go with or if I need to make any changes.” You say pointedly, your eyes meeting his. He looks surprised that you’re speaking to him. After a moment of silence, the two of you awkwardly staring at each other, you reach across the space between the two of you to pass him your laptop. He meets you halfway, reaching out to grab it, and then settles back into his seat. You watch him carefully as he narrows his eyes at the screen, reading everything that you’ve spent the last hour working on. You tried to keep it simple. You wrote the full truth of what happened in the lab, explaining what you did that triggered the release of the chemical into the air and how the two of you destroyed the entire facility before leaving via motorcycle afterward. The lies only start when you get to the point where your conference call with Banner and Stark ended. That’s where you write that you and Bucky locked yourselves in separate bedrooms and remained separated for the rest of the night. It's not a very long report, so why it’s taken Bucky more than three minutes to read it is beyond you.

“What do you think?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He stares at the screen for a few more seconds before tearing his eyes away from it and looking over at you.

“It’s fine.” It’s the first time you’ve heard his standard grumpy tone in more than twelve hours. You should feel relieved that he’s acting like his usual self, but for some reason you feel bothered. You didn’t expect him to suddenly act like the two of you are close, but god, would it kill him to act like you weren’t the last person he wanted to be around?

As Bucky passes the laptop to you, he doesn’t miss the way you avoid making eye contact with him.

“So, that’s our story then.” You say matter-of-factly, saving the report and closing your laptop. You’ll finalize it and submit it after the debrief that you’re sure to have with Fury and a whole host of other SHIELD agents and admins later today.

“Guess so.” Bucky mumbles. You want to throw the laptop at his perfect face.

---

“What did you do?” Sam throws the question at Bucky with an overly accusatory tone as he enters Bucky’s suite without so much as a single knock in warning. Bucky had been unpacking his suitcase, but now he drops his folded tactical pants on the bed, turning to face Sam.

“I didn’t do anything.” He answers, though his face isn’t as convincing as his lie. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything that he did or said this morning to have pissed you off. But, in the back of his mind, he knows he did plenty of crossing the lines last night. Maybe you just thought things over in the light of day and realized that you made a huge mistake with him last night and early this morning. Whatever it is that you did between the time you both woke up and the time you boarded the quinjet for the flight home, it put you in a very untalkative mood. You were silent for most of the flight home, and then when you arrived back at the compound, you basically beelined for your room.

“Bullshit. The two of you couldn’t get along for just twenty-four hours? Actually, not even twenty-four hours, because the two of you were locked away from each other all last night. So, what did you do to piss her off?” Sam’s interrogation is the last thing Bucky wants to be dealing with right now. He wants to finish unpacking, shower your fucking intoxicating scent off of every inch of his skin that it seems to be clinging onto, and then get the mission debrief over with.

“We got along fine.”

“Fine doesn’t sound like you two.”

“Okay, we got along as well as we normally do. It was just a rough night, Sam. What do you want me to say? We were in a bad situation.” Bucky sighs, scooping his tactical pants up again and putting them away in a dresser drawer. Sam studies him closely as he moves around the room, putting away various personal items. He’d like to think that he knows Bucky well enough at this point to read his mind, but he doesn’t. Not most of the time, anyway. Maybe he’ll have more luck going directly to you and asking why you’re so off today. He knows he should give you both a break. It was probably a night filled with physical torment and anguish with that chemical compound running through your veins.

“Fine. I’m sorry, man. We really didn’t know what we were sending the two of you into.” Sam apologizes, uncrossing his arms and hoping Bucky will respond a little less defensively.

“It doesn’t matter. We made it out and now we’re back home and…it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.” Bucky mutters. Sam knows that’s about as good of an acceptance as he’ll get from Bucky, so he takes it. As he leaves Bucky’s suite, he walks the few steps across the hall and knocks on your door. No answer.

---

This is one of those moments where you find yourself wondering how the hell you ended up in a situation like this. The current situation being you and Bucky, seated in Dr. Raynor’s office. There’s a wall behind you covered with an image of tall, skinny trees. You can tell that it’s meant to be relaxing, but it just makes you feel like you’re in a pediatrician’s office that’s decorated with nature scenes to keep kids distracted from the needles and physical exams. You pick at the fraying threads on the knee of your distressed jeans, trying to occupy your mind before it occupies itself with thoughts of the man sitting next to you. Bucky sits a mere foot and a half away from you. Both of you are seated on opposite ends of the small gray couch. Why does it feel like you’re about to start couples therapy?

Bucky feels even more on-edge than you do. Dr. Raynor knows him too well. She can see straight through him most of the time, and now that he’s sitting here next to you, he’s scared to death of what she might see. His heart is racing in his chest, threatening to break through his navy blue Henley tee and dark jacket. The two of you rode here together, Bucky offered to drive as a small act of kindness, a peace offering, if you will. He also didn’t want the two of you to arrive separately and set off any alarms in Dr. Raynor’s head. She reads too far into everything. On the ride over, Bucky asked if you were still going to keep up the story about what happened three nights ago in the safehouse. You said yes, and that was that. You would both be lying to Dr. Raynor today.

“Sorry, I had a little situation I had to handle downstairs.” Dr. Raynor says with a sigh as she enters the room quickly. Neither of you turn to look at her as she closes the door behind herself and makes her way to her chair across from the couch. This is your first time meeting her. You’ve never been sent to therapy like this before. Sure, you’ve had routine psych evals, and once after a bit of a missing-in-action situation you had to go through the mandatory ten sessions with a shrink. But now? You really don’t even know why Fury sent the two of you here for this. You and Bucky have never really been close, why is that lack of closeness a problem now? “I appreciate the kind greetings.” Dr. Raynor quips sarcastically. She seats herself in her chair, settling her notebook and pen on her lap, before studying you both. You feel the tension in the air rising and Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Unsure of which one of you she’s directing the question to, you both stay silent.

“I didn’t expect your partner to be as quiet as you, James.” Dr. Raynor says, focusing her gaze on him. This relieves you a little. You don’t feel like you’re the one under scrutiny if she’s addressing at him, even though she’s talking about you.

“She’s not quiet.” Bucky huffs, tracing the lines on his vibranium palm. You’re starting to notice he does that when he doesn’t have much to say, or maybe it’s when he has a lot to say but doesn’t want to say it.

“Oh?” Dr. Raynor turns to you now.

“I don’t know why we’re here.” You answer her previous question, making sure that you don’t sound as moody as Bucky.

“The fact that neither of you can get along, and everyone that you work with knows this about your partnership, you don’t think that that might be the reason why you were sent here today?”

“We’ve been partners for two months and we’ve never been sent here before.” You point out. Bucky’s gaze is flitting between you and Dr. Raynor. He almost seems amused by the exchange. It’s a bit exciting for him to see someone else under Dr. Raynor’s microscope, and it’s especially exciting to him that’s it’s you.

“Right. So, what change happened this week that landed you both in my office?”

That’s a loaded question. You turn your head to steal a glance at Bucky but find him already looking over at you. Somehow, the two of you communicate with just a look. A look that says something along the lines of we both know what changed, but we aren’t going to say a damn thing about it here.

“Nothing.” You both say at the same time, breaking eye contact. Dr. Raynor is immediately interested in the exchange that she just witnessed.

“What was that?” She questions.

“What was what?” Bucky plays dumb, scrunching his eyes at her. She waves her pen between the two of you.

“That, that look.”

“It was just a look, doc.” Bucky lies.

“Okay, we can do this one of two ways.” Dr. Raynor straightens up in her chair, once again resting the pen on the notebook. “You both tell me what really happened on the trip to the HYDRA lab three days ago and I help you fix whatever rift it caused in your working relationship, or you continue acting like nothing happened while this thing festers like an open wound.” You kind of like her. She gets to the point, and though you don’t know her at all, she does seem trustworthy. Still, you can’t just tell her that you and Bucky slept together. That’s a fast track to getting your partnership suspended. Wait, since when do you care so much about your partnership? A week ago, you would’ve happily traded Bucky for a new partner, or even gone back to working solo missions if you were given the option to. Why does the idea of working without Bucky bother you now?

“Did Fury give you a copy of our mission reports?” You ask, drawing Bucky’s attention straight back to your face. He wonders where you’re going with this. Dr. Raynor nods slowly, analyzing you both before speaking.

“Yes, and I feel like they’re missing about twelve hours worth of details.” She responds. She’s good.

“You don’t think we locked ourselves in separate bedrooms.” You make your words a statement, rather than posing another question. Dr. Raynor shrugs.

“I think your reports lacked detail, especially compared to any of your previous mission reports. What possibly could have happened that night that would make you both want to be as vague as possible in a mission report?” Her question isn’t for either of you to answer, but you both know that she knows. You swallow hard and clasp your hands together in your lap, fighting the urge to get a running start and jump out of the window that’s on Bucky’s side of the room. “Let me pose a hypothetical. Let’s say that you both were exposed to a chemical agent that’s designed to make super soldiers reproduce. You get exposed, you both go back to the safehouse, and you lock yourselves in separate rooms like you said. Y/n, with your medical background, how long do you think either of you would be able to stay in a locked room before having to at least use the restroom? According to your reports, you locked in around 9 pm and didn’t leave your rooms again until at least 7:30 am.”

“I don’t like hypotheticals.” You retort, crossing your arms over your chest like a child. You feel silly. You know you look ridiculous sitting here with a frown on your face and your arms crossed, you know that you do. But her line of questioning is quickly approaching the truth and you don’t want to give her anymore fuel than she already has. She sees you shutting down and turns her attention to Bucky.

“James?”

“I didn’t have to pee.” He mumbles.

“You had sex.” Dr. Raynor states. There isn’t a hint of questioning in her tone now. Suddenly, the room falls silent. So silent that Bucky can hear the way your heart is pounding in your chest and the way you’ve suddenly began holding your breath.

“That doesn’t sound like something that two people who can’t stand each other would do.” Bucky responds on your behalf. Mentally, you’re thanking him. You didn’t have a single word in your mind to use to formulate a response.

“Right. But if you think about it, it does. And not only does it sound like something those two people would do, but it sounds smart, if you think about it.”

“Smart?” Bucky’s confused now. Is Dr. Raynor trying to say that it was smart of the two of you to fuck?

“Let’s say that two people who don’t get along are stuck in a situation where they have these primal, innate biological feelings to reproduce. They decide to have sex to lessen their suffering at the hands of the chemical that they were exposed to, knowing that because they don’t get along, they aren’t risking much by crossing that line together. They wouldn’t have cared if they were found out and their partnership was terminated, because they didn’t like working together in the first place. And if no one found out and their partnership remained intact, neither of them have feelings for each other so it wouldn’t matter anyway, they could continue working together like they normally would. That makes it sound like the smart thing to do, don’t you think?”

It does sound smart when she words it like that. But you and Bucky both know that it’s not an accurate representation of your situation. No, you don’t really get along and you never have, but you didn’t have sex while simultaneously not giving a shit about what happened to your partnership. All you could think about at first was how it would ruin your partnership. Then you had a night full of sex that was so good you’ve been thinking about it nonstop since, which led to you avoiding Bucky in the compound so you could give yourself a chance to stop thinking about him in such a non-platonic way. That’s what landed you here, on Dr. Raynor’s little therapy couch in her little therapy office. Fuck. It’s your fault that you’re both here.

“I’m not necessarily accusing the two of you of anything. No one knows what happened that night except for you, though I have my suspicions. I’d like you both to feel comfortable enough to tell me what happened, but if you don’t feel like you can do that right now, I’ll respect it. However, I do want to observe the two of you interacting in the field over the next few missions. Fury is sure that this partnership is the best thing he’s ever created. After reading through each of your files, I’m not as convinced.”

Great. Now you and Bucky have a babysitter.

---

After finishing your very brief and unproductive session with Dr. Raynor, Bucky drove you both back to the compound. The silence was a little more bearable this time. Neither of you wanted to talk about what had just happened in the session or about how Dr. Raynor seems to know that you fucked. When you arrived back at the compound, you went your separate ways. Bucky went upstairs, presumably to skulk around in his room until dinnertime, and you hit the gym. You gave yourself a rest day after coming back from the mission-from-hell, but now you need the high that you get from a good workout. You need it because your thoughts are still consumed with Bucky. With the way he fit so perfectly inside of you, with the way he looked at you with so much awe when you were coming undone on his cock in front of the mirror, and for fuck’s sake, the way you felt like he owned you when his dog tags were around your neck. You want it. You want him. Bad. You’ve been taking a lot of cold showers lately. Now, you’re turning to the gym to try to get him out of your system.

After a nice four-mile evening run and a core workout on the mats in the gym, you decide to take a shower in the gym downstairs instead of going up to your room and risking running into Bucky. You don’t want to ruin your current streak of one hour without thinking about him naked. “FRIDAY, play my workout playlist.” You call out as you enter the shower room and grab a clean towel from one of the shelves by the door. You sling the towel over one of the shower doors and step inside, stripping your clothes off and tossing them over the door before turning the water on. FRIDAY begins playing your playlist at full volume, which is how you always like to have it when you’re showering down here after a workout. With the music blasting and hot water streaming down your skin, you’re safe from any thoughts about Bucky. You wash away all of the stress of the day, imagining all of the bad things in your life flowing down into the drain at your feet.

Suddenly, you hear the door to the shower room swing open and then fall shut again with a resounding click. You continue lathering your skin with soap, listening intently for an announcement of some sort from whoever is intruding on your personal time.

“FRIDAY, turn the volume down to 10%.” Bucky’s voice rings out and you take a deep breath, feeling your bad mood crawl out of the shower drain and back up into your body. How dare he? His next move only further pisses you off, as your towel quickly disappears from the glass door of the shower.

“Barnes—”

“I want to talk.” He interrupts you, and you can see the silhouette of him pacing slowly back and forth through the distorted glass door.

“You have until I finish this shower.” You say through clenched teeth. “Then, I’m getting out and strangling you with that towel.”

“You’re going to get out without a towel?” You see his figure pause as your words still him.

“My naked body will be the last thing you see. You have sixty seconds.” He chuckles at your words, and you can hear the movement of him slinging the towel over his shoulder as he stands outside of the shower, clearly amused.

“Dr. Raynor knows.” He states.

“Yeah, no shit.” You say sarcastically, truly dumbfounded that he felt the need to say it out loud. Obviously, she knows.

“She’s going to be analyzing us on every mission until she confirms it.” He continues. Does he think you were totally zoned out during the session in her office earlier? You know she’s going to be babysitting the both of you in the field for the forseeable future.

“Is there a point to this conversation?” You ask, rinsing all of the soap bubbles off of your skin and watching them slip across the shower floor. Bucky audibly sighs. What is with your fucking attitude tonight? You avoided him all day yesterday. He knows you had some errands to run at SHIELD’s headquarters, so you were there most of the morning, but even when you came back to the compound around lunch it was obvious that you were doing everything you could just to stay out of his sight. He’s fucking sick of it.

“Yeah, I want to know when you’re going to stop acting like fucking made me fall in love with you.” Bucky says flatly. On the inside, he’s angry. That’s why you’ve been avoiding him, right? Because you’re scared that he caught feelings for you somewhere in the midst of all of the mind-blowing sex. That’s the only reason he can imagine that you have for avoiding him the way you have been, and for the way that you’re talking to him now. He, however, couldn’t be more wrong. You were scared that you were catching feelings. It’s why you didn’t want to say his name or kiss him when you fucked. You knew that if you did either of those things, it would feel too real. It’d be too hard to pretend it meant nothing to you.

When are you going to stop acting like fucking made him fall in love with you? Jesus, he thinks he has you all figured out, doesn’t he? You catch yourself laughing. You reach over and turn off the water. You’re just about to tell Bucky that he can fuck off with his demands to know anything from you, when you hear the shower room door open once again, followed by a set of footsteps.

“Hey, Y/n, dinner is going to be ready in—” Sam stops short when his eyes fall on Bucky, who stands outside of your shower door, holding your towel in his vibranium hand. “What’s…are you holding her hostage in the shower? Give me that damn towel, man.” You hear a soft commotion that you can only assume is the two men scuffling over your stolen towel. The towel finds its way back over the glass door, courtesy of Sam, and you quickly snatch it up, patting yourself dry before wrapping it around your body. “Dinner is ready in fifteen minutes, if you two want to eat.” Sam announces. Bucky gives him a steely look for returning the towel to you, but Sam ignores it, turning on his heel and walking out. You’re surprised that he didn’t have anything to say about the unusual situation he stumbled into here. Maybe he’s saving it for later.

Bucky’s just about to ask his question again, the one about when you’ll stop acting like he’s in love with you, when you push the shower door open and step out in front of him. Covered only by that damn towel. He wants to pretend like he’s unbothered, but the way a tent is forming in his jeans throws that plan out the window. You have an effect on him and you’re fully aware of it.

“Fucking didn’t make you fall in love with me?” You ask innocently, standing just six inches in front of him and looking up into his eyes. His eyes leave yours for a moment, his gaze raking down your body and leaving heat in its wake. He takes in your messy bun, the way the towel is so tightly hugged around your curves, and the way water is dripping down your legs. Fuck, he wants to lick every single drop off of your skin. He wants to start at your ankles and kiss, lick, and suck his way up to your inner thighs. When he meets your stare once again, you’re smirking at him. “Answer the question, Barnes.” You use a specific tone of voice this time, one that you usually reserve for seductive purposes in the field. It makes him swallow hard and you note the way his jaw flexes. Hmm, you’ve seen his jaw flex like that before. You take one step forward, closing the minimal space between the two of you, letting your towel-covered chest lightly brush against him as you begin trailing your fingertips down the right sleeve of his Henley tee. He’s temporarily frozen in place, his eyes watching the movements of your hand closely, before he quickly steps back and tsks at you. He shakes his head as annoyed look takes over his features.

“Don’t fuck with me, Y/n. Dr. Raynor isn’t here to supervise the tension.” His words send heat rushing through your body, a heat that settles in your cheeks and between your legs. You hate how the threatening tone of his voice combined with his choice of words makes you long to be underneath him again, but you’re sure he’s just playing a sick game with you. You wish the horny part of you would remember that, that this is just a fucked up game. It isn’t real. But you know what? If he wants to play this fucked up game, you’ll make sure you win it. He can act like he doesn’t want you, but his reactions to everything you do sends a different message.

You’ll just have to play this game until he admits that he wants you as much as you want him. Maybe you'll give him his dog tags back as a consolation prize when you win.

Next Part

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes smut

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liyawritesss · 11 months

Text

ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Earth-42!Miles Morales [The Prowler] x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.9k

Synopsis: Miles tells his Uncle Aaron the real reason why he’ll always answer his phone for you.

Warnings: Cursing, no usage of [y/n] or second person perspective, brief mention of potential gun usage, old school gang terms (Aaron refers to a gun as a 'pole') I envisioned a late teen 42!Miles so he’s around 17-18 here, but still keep it cute this is lil cuz we talkin’ bout here!!!

A/N: I know I said that the previous fic would more than likely be my only attempt at 42!Miles but the ugly ass nigga is growing on me so…here yall go i guess

Song Suggestions: “So Into You” (Remix) by Sydney Renae; “LORD FORGIVE ME” by Tobe Nwigwe ft. Fat Nwigwe & Pharrell; “Run Tha Streetz” by Tupac, Storm, Mutah, Michel’le

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @briology @honeybleed @pnkweb

It went without saying that if it didn’t pertain to family or business, Aaron wasn’t quite fond of the use of phones.

He had a real old school view on them; didn’t like how kids these days were always stuck nose deep into the devices. Of course, he came from a generation where a phone’s only use was to contact another person. He never got into the hype of the latest iPhones, nor did he understand the need for five different cameras attached to the device. The only benefit he saw with the rectangular device was that it made communication more prompt and precise (though he’d never admit that he appreciated being able to play any games he wanted, at his disposal, at any time he wished).

So, naturally, when Miles became old enough to engage in his ‘business’, the one rule Aaron posed that didn’t pertain to the ‘game’ was that him being on his phone was an absolute no-go.

“I ain’t got time for you to be distracted by that thing,” he’d said the very first night Aaron trusted the younger to bring him along, “if you gon’ be in, I need you to be all the way in. No half-assin’ this shit, you hear?”

And of course, Miles agreed, no matter how insufferable the first few weeks of patrol were when Aaron literally locked his cellular device in a safe back at the workshop. While it served to pry the connection the fifteen year old had with the device at the time, it was also his way of teaching Miles to not rely on the device for communication, prompting Miles to fortify new avenues of such. Aaron had a genius nephew, after all, and expected nothing less from the person who would soon take up his mantle as The Prowler.

Though, Aaron started to notice a shift in the practice behavior a few months ago, and it made him wonder had his teachings begun to fall short, even after a few years of the settled routine.

He’d notice the flexing of the younger’s arm whenever the faint buzz from the vibration of Miles’ phone sounded, no doubt squeezing the device in his pocket with his hand.

Aaron also was not ignorant to Miles’ dipping off to the side to answer a quick call in hushed tones, and the words used to address the other person on the line made it clear to the older man that it wasn’t Rio calling him, and it piqued Aaron’s curiosity even more.

Though, Aaron could never say anything, since Miles was sure to put his phone on do not disturb before heading out into the night, and the calls always remained under a minute or two, not taking too much time away from their very serious business. He found himself frustrated because Aaron couldn’t be mad at him for being responsible for his phone usage, despite his own feelings towards the usage of such devices. Yet, it irked him all the same when Miles would take a peek at his phone during a moment of down time, or when he’d caught the boy staring at his messages a couple of times during a debriefing session.

“Aye, c’mon man,” Aaron finally grumbles out one night, sucking his teeth at the sight of Miles tapping away on the brightly lit screen close to his face, illuminating his melanated features, “I need you outta that shit, we got work to do.”

“A’ight, a’ight,” says the younger as he finishes off a text, pocketing his phone and brushing past Aaron briskly, “just had to answer my girl real quick. I’m off it.”

“You better be,” Aaron scolds, “we need you at a’hunnid tonight, Miles. No excuses.”

Though Aaron wasn’t about to let Miles’ admission slip under the radar, the current task at hand was much more pressing than the revelation that his nephew was seeing someone. He’d have to play the father figure role after tonight's mission was complete.

It’s when the deepest shade of midnight blue begins to fade into faint purple hues that Aaron is able to bring up the conversation once again. He tries to make it light, but over the years, his smooth talk has become just as rustic as his Prowler skills. “I’m gon’ have to bring the safe out again if I keep seein’ that phone, Miles.”

The echo of the younger sucking his teeth in annoyance doesn’t fly past Aaron’s head. It’s the response he expected from his nephew. He turns around from his work desk to face the younger, leaning against one of the many concrete pillars that keep the building intact.

“I’m serious, boy,” Aaron asserts, “you been on that phone a lil’ too much lately, man. I’on like it.”

Miles scratches the side of his face; he knows he doesn’t have much of a good excuse to use as to why his eyes have been more on his phone as of late. Well, not an excuse Aaron would find plausible anyway.

“A’ight, Unc. I’ll chill.”

It’s not the exact response that Aaron expects, but if Miles says that he’ll watch his phone activity, the older believes him. The younger has no reason to lie to him, anyway.

A beat passes before Aaron starts again, crossing to the middle of the room where the large, red punching bag.

“So, is she a good distraction,” he muses with a knowing look, “or do I gotta be worried that she gon’ take your head out the game?”

The younger pauses for a second, braids dancing along his shoulder. Then, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips as his head tilts to the side, his eyes wandering. Aaron knows that kind of look. It’s the look of a boy high on love, and from the way Miles fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, Aaron can deduct that it’s that good loving, too. The kind of loving that Rio gave Jefferson, and it stole the late brother’s heart. It warms his heart to see his nephew sport a look that someone his age should.

“She’s good.” Miles says. “She’s…real good, Tio. Too good, probably.”

Aaron hums in response, the sound coming from the depths of his throat as he pauses, taking in a breath. “Do she know?”

It’s a hard question to ask; Aaron doesn’t want to blow his nephew’s high, but it’s a necessary one to ask. For the safety of all parties involved.

Miles’ smile falters in the slightest, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes cast downward.

“She know I do shit on the low. Not…all this, though.” And from the tone in Miles’ voice, he, too, knows that it’s better this way.

The older begins to walk towards the stairs to exit the workshop building, gesturing to Miles to follow, “Good.”

Aaron thinks back to when he first remembers the diversion of behavior started. Although it wasn’t and never became aggressive, it started with Miles casually peeking at his phone every now and then, maybe once or twice throughout the whole night the two were set together. He puts two and two together, his head nodding to the conclusion he’d drawn.

“So it’s her you be textin’?” Aaron asks, descending the stairs.

The younger nods, following in tow, “Just lettin’ her know that I’ma be out and can’t answer the phone, shit like that.”

“And when she do call?”

A light, dry chuckle escapes Miles’ lips at the question. “She just be askin’ me shit.”

“Shit like what?” Aaron muses, twisting the knob to the door leading outside, opening it to reveal purple hues slowly fading into peach in the sky. “What color nails for her to get? Password to the Netflix?”

They get to the car, but the silence that takes place during the short time it takes to approach the older’s vehicle answers his own question before Miles does.

“Yeah, actually,” the younger voice, arms folding atop the car roof, leaning against the sleek black metal as he looks at his uncle, “and the color for her peek-a-boo braids; and if it’s okay if she eats my leftover takeout; and if I can hang up her wall art thingy when I come by-”

“-so what you’re saying is, she’s clingy?” The older’s eyebrows furrow in amusement and slight confusion - the way Miles speaks about the isolated experiences has him questioning what kind of girl his nephew was actually dating.

“You know what’s crazy, though, Tio?” The younger poses, pulling the handle to the passenger car door when he hears the click, signifying Aaron unlocking the vehicle finally. “She’s not clingy like that; it’s somethin’ else.”

“You’re losin’ me, kid.” The older chuckles, closing his door once he’s settled inside the driver's seat.

Miles sucks his teeth, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in thought, and Aaron can tell that the younger is trying to find the right words to distinguish what he means.

“I hear guys say that shit like that is annoying,” Miles begins, tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it down from riding up his toned stomach, “but it ain’t like that to me. She asks me all these things; think maybe it’s because she feels safe enough to ask them of me. And if she feel like I got the answers for her, then-”

The younger stops mid-sentence, contemplating how to proceed with his explanation. Yet, Aaron is all ears, listening intently. Quite frankly, it’s the most he’s heard Miles talk about anything in a long time - his rambling reminds him of the old Miles that once was, before the unfortunate.

Then, the younger takes a deep breath, reclines back into his seat, legs spread in the slightest for comfortability, his hands running the length of his thighs, “Ionno, Unc. Makes me feel good, I guess.”

And in that moment, Aaron’s vision blurs for a second. He can’t tell if it’s Miles sitting in the passenger seat, or if it’s his late brother. Perhaps it's the glare of the sun in his eyes…perhaps it’s Aaron actually seeing the soul of Jefferson shine through his son in the early morning sunlight that dances across his melanated skin.

A hum passes through the older’s throat as he starts the car up, the sound of the engine revving through the silence that settled within the car. Aaron clears his throat before speaking again, “I’ma tell you what I told your pops about your moms, kid.”

Miles turns his head from the window to face his uncle, who shifts the car from parked to drive, hand sitting at the top of the steering wheel.

“If she make you feel good, the kinda good you know you can’t get anywhere else, and if she make you feel like a man; you keep her close.” Aaron hums. His lips tug upwards when the younger gives a subtle nod in return.

“I’m serious now, Miles. Don’t be like yo’ daddy.” Aaron reiterates as he pulls his foot off the brakes, turning the steering wheel and pressing down on the gas to drive out of the parking lot. “Dumbass almost lost ya moms cuz he ain’t wanna listen-”

“A’ight, a’ight, I got you,” the younger replies, “I’on think she goin’ anywhere no way, though.”

“Good.” Aaron affirms. “If she know of the kinda game you in, then she need to know how to work somethin’, too. Make sure she can hold you down properly.”

“I’on know about that, Unc,” Miles replies, “she too much of a good girl for that.”

“Shit, good girls work the best poles, boy. Don’t get the game twisted.”

“Unc, no one says ‘poles’ in reference to guns anymore.” The younger says through a chuckle as the two drive off down the street, the purples in the sky now fading into a pretty golden hue that casts over the city that never sleeps.

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tremendum · 10 days

Text

Mr. Miller's Injury ; Mr. Miller viii

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 7.8k summary: ❝"you aren't doing anything, Mr. Miller," you tilt your head, bending to fit level with his face. "if you recall, you're too injured to even leave the bed."❞ warnings: storm vibes, fairly tame compared to other parts, being stood up, dom!reader, sub!joel (FINALLYYYY), brief slapping, injured!Joel, anger, spitting, brief edging, choking, PiV unprotected, this is porn with no plot, masturbation, slight voyeurism, begging, degradation, age gap kink if you squint, calling joel 'old man', v brief praise kink, lots of pet names SORRY notes: thank u all for ur patience, it's been SO LONG. I am sorry this isn't the longest update but i hope you still enjoy! switching things up a bit bc they're learning to Talk about their Feelings <3 finally <3 there will be another update v v soon as well!!! hope you all enjoy. [previous. this is part eight of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]

[important - i no longer use a taglist. I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★

to say you're pissed is an understatement.

forty-five minutes, you huff as you stare at the ground, forty-five minutes standing alone, looking like a fool in this fucking dress.

the rain sloshes down on you, sending muddy streams down the sidewalk and under your boots to kiss the streetwater. it's been raining for days - ever since that black out the other night, it's barely let up; you're getting permanently used to your hair heavy from the drops. you glare sharply down at yourself, watching as sheets of water slap against your soaked corduroy jacket - the vibrant thread that sewed it together again all those weeks ago wilted by the water. you pull your jacket tighter over yourself, as if that could help at all.

you shouldn't fucking be out here right now, getting soaked to the bone.

sighing harshly, you squint up the street to your own house, lights off and waiting sadly; when you'd left, you'd expected not to return until the morning, anyways.

but here you are, an hour later, dateless and more furious than you've been in ages.

you feel like a fucking idiot.

serves you right for trusting that Joel would bother to put on a nice button-up and walk down to the bar to see you.

you try not to glare against the rain when you pass his house; the lights are glowing from the upstairs window, and your blood boils - he's probably in there sitting around doing nothing because he's too terrified to be a man and face you in person. the bitter taste in your mouth only grows at your brief concern - you didn't see him yesterday at all, but you'd just assumed he was on patrol.

you're about fifteen steps away from your your front door, already planning on downing a whole bottle of liquor in your bathtub by the time you hear it.

someone shouting your name.

turning your neck, you spot Ellie, waving her arm from only twenty feet away; the onslaught of drops has quickened, and you can't hear what she's saying. gritting your teeth, you trudge over to her, trying to hide your exasperation, "what's going on?"

"been looking for you!" is what she shouts as you walk towards her, shouting through the rain. "-just asking where you've been lookin' like that." she gestures to your dress, one definitely meant to wear at backyard barbecues and not in the middle of torrential downpours. she pulls you by the wrist onto their porch; the lights flicker slightly and it's just barely less dry - you ignore the wall behind you, thinking back to all those months ago when Joel'd had his cock shoved down your throat with your head pressed up against it.

you blink away the memory, anger simmering in your stomach; you ignore the heat in your abdomen.

"I had plans." you grunt, crossing your arms. her brows raise doubtfully; so full of sass for a teen. "you seen Joel lately?" you ask, hoping to sound nonchalant; she must pick up on the anger that flows from you; frowning, she jerks her head, "seen him? that's why I was lookin' for you. I've been babying him all day."

you stare at her, lifting a brow. "babying?" you parrot.

she frowns, tilting her head; the water sprays in a mist onto you, out of the direct exposure but still splattering fat sheets of rain onto your ankles. "didn't Tommy tell you?" she asks, but you're nearly out of patience.

you sigh sharply, "no, I haven't seen Tommy. been busy all day at the gardens dealin' with this shit."

this shit has been stressing you out beyond belief - a near monsoon in fucking Wyoming, drowning the crops you very desperately need for the commune. root rot is one thing, but losing all the food you'll need for months is something else.

"well, neither have I, but if you see him, tell him I could use a hand with his brother." Ellie sasses, arms crossing. for a moment, you nearly laugh - she's standing like Joel, a look of defiance in her eyes. she huffs, "I've been trying to keep Joel in bed, but you know how stubborn he can be. he got injured on patrol yesterday."

a flicker of concern betrays the anger in your heart. you blink at Ellie. "injured? he's injured?"

she glances towards the door then back at you, her own shirt pelted with rainwater. "he dislocated his shoulder. it's pretty bad."

you let out an exasperated sigh; that's where he's been? fucking injured and didn't bother to tell you? you purse your lips, feigning calm as you actively fight off the sense of embarrassment at your own irritation. "I can help you, don't worry." you promise, wishing you'd had a chance to change out of the dress. "if you want a break, I'll make sure he doesn't kill himself for a while." even if you wish he would.

she smiles, nodding as she turns on her heels, "thank you - you know how he is. didn't even mention he was hurt 'til I found him trying to hide it. been trying to tough it out, I guess."

you follow her into the house, gritting your teeth as you wring water out of your hair. "unbelievable," you mutter under your breath.

Joel is lying in his bed.

You resist the arousal that climbs at the vision of him outstretched in bed, propped perfectly on a pillow, hair grown out and curling; instead seething with irritation at him.

"what the hell is this, Miller?" you say in lieu of a greeting, crossing your arms the second he makes eye contact with you. he's surprised to see you, but not as surprised as you'd hoped.

he looks as terse as ever, eyes darting from you to Ellie, who lingers in the doorway. he grunts, shifting slightly and wincing. "hurt m'self."

you resist a laugh of disbelief, smiling sarcastically, "I can see that."

he is too fucking stubborn - you're too fucking stubborn, too; there's a beat, then you give in, "you couldn't have sent someone to tell me not to show up? I looked like a complete dick down there by myself." you snap, wounded. he rolls his eyes, "well I sent her to ya, didn't I?" he snaps, gesturing to Ellie with his good hand. she shakes her head, throwing her hands up, "I don't want any part in...whatever this is."

she disappears after muttering something about finally getting some peace and quiet - it's silent until you hear her bedroom door slam, the rain pelting down against the windowpanes.

unable to hide any longer in the quiet, you cross your arms. he sighs. "look..." he mutters, wincing as he sits up slightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't find ya. y'don't deserve t'be sittin' alone by yourself like that."

you clench your jaw, nodding, "you're right, Joel. I'm sorry you're hurt, I understand, it's just-" your doubts creep back in and you shake your head. "I don't know what I thought." you chicken out, looking away.

you hear his breathing; it seems to move with your chest - a patient, quiet breath that waits for your anger to subside.

"this ain't 2003, sweetheart," he finally says, but there's a warmness in his voice; it is wholly familiar and foreign at the same time. "can't jus' text you to let y'know I fell and dislocated my shoulder." he sighs gruffy; you huff, walking closer to the bed. "yeah, that and if it was 2003, I'd still be learning to ride a bike."

his eyes are sharp on you - a reminder of that unspoken thing, that tension that lives between you and him, pushes you further "don't." he says lowly, eyeing you stormily as the rain forges on outside. "don't remind me of why I shouldn't be doin' this."

the hesitation that always lingers between you sneaks up like mist through a forest; you push at it, wading through until you're next to where he reposes in bed. you can't resist the smirk that plays at your lips. "you aren't doing anything, Mr. Miller," you tilt your head, bending to fit level with his face. "if you recall, you're too injured to even leave the bed."

he hums, eyes stirring with that playfulness that you never quite expect; he tilts his chin up and it's all you can do to not kiss the lips that part beneath you. "c'mere an' make me feel better then, would'ya?"

you lift a brow, letting your lips brush just over his cupid's bow, imbued with the thick hairs of his mustache. you shake your head gently; he thinks everything's fine after a measly sorry?

"really?" you whisper against his lips, "you expect me to come play nurse and give myself to you just like that?" you tut. a swirl of desire in your gut when his good hand slides up the back of your thigh, squeezing the round of your ass.

you hope he cannot see the goosebumps up your thighs at his touch.

"y'didn't even play nurse." he argues, tilting his head up at you. you cross your arms, unimpressed; he sighs sharply. "sweetheart, 'm sorry." he offers again. you roll your eyes, "whatever, Joel." you whisper, leaning close to him; the way he looks up at you is saccharine; revenge must be the only thing sweeter. an idea creeps into your mind; a taste of his own medicine.

you let your lips brush his, but then pull back slightly. "if I can wait for you, you can wait for me." you say, pressing a chaste kiss to Joel's lips. his eyes are no longer clouded in that warm brightness; no, he is cloudy with irritation. you bite back a grin as you pull away from him, eyeing the chair next to the bed. "the fuck's that mean?" he grunts, eyes hawkish as they travel with you, lowering until you're comfortable in the chair. you let his gaze travel the expanse of your legs; the dress you chose to wear to your date is soaked - it sticks to your thighs and reveals more than you'd expect - you don't shy away, though. when it's Joel, you can never shy away.

"what are you doin'?" he questions again, voice deep with growing interest.

you smirk sultrily, tilting your head as you hum, propping your foot just next to his leg, on display for his gaze.

you spread your legs gently, letting your hands explore the planes of the body you know so well; over your chest, you flick wet strands of hair away from your slick skin before skimming over your curves. a flicker of lightning in the window and Joel's eyes are darker than before; you hum, "I'm keeping you company, Joel." you simper, letting the strap of the dress slip slowly off your shoulder on one side, your hand traveling down your chest and imagining his own rough, calloused ones. "unless you'd prefer I leave?" you ask with a small pout.

"I'd prefer if you stop bein' a brat and get the fuck over here." he snaps; patience worn thin, you just smirk, knowing he's enjoying the display of your body for him in the dark room.

you slowly lift the hem of your skirt up, over your hips; his eyes hungrily devour the lace you wore - a treat for him at the end of your date, you'd thought - now teasing.

you make a show of slipping a hand into your underwear, gasping gently as your fingers slide through your folds. you flush at the arousal that has gathered there - there might be something to say about how turned on you get when you're pissed at Joel - yet you let yourself relax, gently moaning as you rub your sensitive clit with one finger.

Joel sits up, his eyes dark and lip caught between his teeth as he watches you; he winces slightly, but ignores the pain, “let me.” he says, trying to sound authoritative. you just smirk, shaking your head. “no.”

Joel ought to learn to be patient.

so you resume, your finger gently sliding inside you; it’s nowhere near how it feels when Joel touches you, but you'd never dare admit such secrets out loud. instead, you add another finger; curling them, you let out a moan, biting your lip only when you remember there is another person in the house. thankfully, the rain slams on the windows hard enough to mask what noise you've let escape your lips.

Joel stares at you as if it's torture; you can see his own arousal growing in his pants; even as he adjusts, his brows drawn and breathing sharp. sliding the other strap off your shoulder, you let the top of your dress fall; your breasts on full display, nipples perking at the cold nip of the air.

"god damn it," he hisses, "quit your fuckin' teasing."

you don't, though: and he cannot conceal the groan he lets out as you push your chest out, arching your back as you start to thumb your clit. pleasure courses through you, soaking your panties as you watch Joel watch you.

his hand barely twitches before you shake your head, "don't touch yourself." you snap, eyes sharp as you watch his palm press over his obvious hard-on.

he glares at you.

"y'think you can tell me what to do?" he snaps, eyes sharp though you can see the flush on his cheeks at your words. this makes you stop; instantly you're pulling your fingers out of yourself, sitting forward - his eyes widen only slightly when you stand, suddenly standing over him again.

he is a dream - laid back, cheeks red and eyes sharp from the tease, straining nearly out of his pants in his desire. he pants, swallowing as you trail your fingernails over his chest slowly; up, higher...

your hand wraps around his throat - it looks small, next to his tanned skin, but the way he swallows, the way his cock twitches - he loves it. you do, too. you lift a brow. "don't think I won't fucking leave you here like you left me alone at the Bison." tilting your head, you smirk. "someone has to put you in your place, right?"

his jaw is taut as he blinks at you, not daring to argue. you tilt your head, staring at him until he rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "fine, darlin'." he grunts, "have it your way."

his hand slides away from his crotch and with a satisfied smirk, you let go of his throat. "don't move your hand from the mattress unless you want me to leave." you snap, sending him a look, "okay?"

his jaw ticks, as if deciding how much power to give up. he sighs sharply, "fine."

satisfied at his answer, you slide your underwear off your legs, leaving the dress on your torso.

Joel swallows hard, cheeks pink with desire as you climb up onto his lap; his eyes watch you warily, knowing you well enough to know you wouldn't give in this easily.

and you haven't.

instead you slide back slightly onto his thighs, relieving the brief pressure of your heat over his clothed cock; you snake your hand down, returning your fingers to your heat to find the velvety arousal waiting for you. he watches with lidded eyes and a slacked jaw. sighing, you wiggle your hips, gasping as the tips of your fingers brush your sensitive clit. your other hand rises to pinch a nipple gently, eyes locked on Joel's. he's halfway delirious - exasperated, irritated, melting with desire.

"is this better, Joel?" your voice drips with antagonism as you slowly slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, "you wanted me close, didn't you?"

he says nothing; watching you, his hips move with yours, providing you with friction as you touch yourself on his lap. a muttered curse under his breath until you whine gently, fingers stretching yourself as you wish it was him.

"god damn it." he mutters, head falling against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling as if in silent prayer. you can see him searching for some god, high up there, who will take him out of this torturous pleasure. there is a burning desire, a sweet pride, knowing that you are the only one who can. "-gonna be the death of me, darlin'."

it is not the first time he's said this. in fact, the night you first fucked around with Joel he said something very similar as you walked the patrol logs to Maria and Tommy's; the memory makes you flush, the anticipation, the butterflies, the shock.

the first time Joel put his hands on your skin, caressed you, fucked you.

"y'gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?" his voice always slips into that Texan accent more when he is aroused; the heat spreads over your body and goosebumps crawl over your legs as you let your head fall back - moaning his name, you thumb your clit gently. it never feels good enough when you do it yourself; hiding this truth, you hum, sending Joel a salacious smirk. "if you want me, you're going to have to beg for it."

this seems to have brought him back to Earth, back to this bed, to remember who it is that straddles him, who it is he desires most in this town. he bristles at your play for dominance. "-oughta fuck you 'til you remember who you're talkin' to. remember your manners." he snaps - his desperation is leaking through; you can only smile knowingly as you buck your hips on his thick thighs. pleasure starts to pool in your stomach as you tilt your head back, your thumb flicking over your sensitive nipples. he watches the movement like a hawk; angry, straining with pleasure but unable to do anything against your ministrations.

you lean yourself, not daring to stop your movements - instead, your hand slips from your breast to return itself to Joel's throat; squeezing as you feel yourself tremor with ecstasy. the want in his eyes drives you forward.

"where are your manners, old man?" you whisper, breath hot as it fans across his lips. "standing up a pretty girl like me?" you tut, shaking your head. "such a mean man. you know, I could have my pick here in Jackson-" you sigh, feeling yourself pulse with your imminent high, your fingers pumping into yourself and pleasure coursing through you.

he lets out a sigh, a whisper upon your own lips, "-I know, baby." he grunts, hips bucking against yours, seeking any kind of friction for himself. something about his desire, how you've rendered Joel Miller completely desperate and breathless for you, nearly pushes you to the edge.

"-fuck, 'm sorry, darlin'," he grunts; his hand grips the sheet below him, his voice quieted with the knowledge that Ellie remains somewhere in the house. You swirl your hips, nearing your high as your head tilts back; you move, your tits bouncing as you do, gasping gently. a part of you wishes to see how far you could push it - could he cum in his pants like this, barely touched?

but a yearning desire to be filled by him overtakes that thought.

"see-" you cut yourself off with a quiet, sweet moan, pulsing around yourself, "see how wet I am?" you spread your thighs open further, leaning back; his eyes, hungry and unrelenting, stare down at the apex of your thighs, where you've made a wet patch upon his pants, where you fuck yourself on your fingers. "yeah, baby. let me feel that pretty pussy, then." he grunts.

you lift a brow. Joel lets out a desperate moan, eyes rolling gently as you pitch your hips forward, grazing his straining cock. You eye him coyly. "where's that please you love to hear so much, Joel?" you hum, your thighs trembling as you stave off your orgasm. "or have you already forgotten how to speak?"

his eyes strain as he resists the urge to put his palm over you - your tits, your face, your cunt - you grin in satisfaction. good. "jesus," he grunts, "lord- just-" he clenches his jaw, hips bucking up against you; you gasp at the friction it causes, pushing your palm into your clit hard. "-let me fuck you." he tries to order.

you shake your head, "beg for it." you says, breathless as you scrunch your eyes shut, nearing your orgasm. "beg for me, Joel." you say again, clenching- so close-

his grip finds your hand, tugging you away from your seeping cunt so quick you barely know what's happening. you gasp, eyes flying open; his eyes are not nearly as sharp as they were- no, they're begging, pleading: wide, staring up at you like you floated down from Heaven above.

"-don't cum yet, please." he says, voice breathless, "wanna feel you 'round me. promise, I'll do anything you want, anything - please."

you could cum untouched at just the words, the arousal dripping from his lips, the way his eyes drink you in like he never wants to see anything else.

the breath tumbles out of your lips, staring at him with satisfaction, your own cheeks flushed. "was that so hard?" you pull him in for a kiss that has him keening, tongue struggling to fight for the dominance you refuse to give up. even if it took Joel dislocating his shoulder, you will not let him take away your first real breath of control over him. you lean in to his ear, biting his lobe softly as his breath hitches, "now let go of my fucking hand." you whisper coldly.

he drops it like dead weight.

smirking, you lean back, lifting your fingers between you and him; your slick coats them, shining with your evident arousal and desire. you don't have to ask; he's taking your wrist gently and pushing your fingers to his lips in a second.

you watch in awe, desire simmering deep within you as his tongue laps every drop of your arousal from your fingers, his eyes rolling back in his head, groaning gently at the taste of you. "fuck, sweetheart-" he moans and you're unsure if you've ever heard something so delicious. "please, let me feel you."

you hum, roving your hips over his, sliding until you straddle him properly; his fist, squeezed and wanting, clenches against the sheets below him. a part of you flourishes within your chest as you watch him - so clearly aroused, yet letting you take the reins for once and doing what you say.

experimentally, you drag a hand down his chest. careful to avoid his left shoulder, which is propped up and slung with a makeshift sling from an old t-shirt, you explore him.

Joel has never really let you look at him very much before; you smile, eyes trailing over his puffing chest, his stomach, down to where you roll your wet cunt over the fabric of his jeans. the texture is rough - you nearly yelp as your clit catches on the cold metal button; Joel's lips quirk up in a small smirk at the noise you let out.

you ignore his stare, not letting yourself think about how full of admiration it is at the moment; no, you let yourself bathe in the arousal, in the waiting that Joel has patiently gone through for you. your eyes find his face - that rugged, guarded expression: you see the flicker of vulnerability within them that you're slowly getting used to, that warmth that always catches on your heartbeats and makes them skip or pound just that much quicker.

so patient now, but where was he hours ago, when he could have come told you in person he couldn't make your date, or hell even just sent Ellie?

"somethin' wrong, baby?" he asks, voice low - his brow is similarly so, drawn over his eyes and you nearly lean to kiss the concern away; you remember the stares you'd gotten at the Tipsy Bison just an hour ago, sitting alone - another bout of irritation washes over you. "y'tired of tryin' to tell me what to do?"

you let out a small huff, "thinkin' about what I was gonna let you do to me in the bathroom at the Bison tonight."

it's barely a hint at anything, but his eyes shut at the image. "I'm s-"

you really don't want to hear it - he's already apologized several times, and you forgive him. now, you're much more focused on giving what you get. "-shut up, Joel." you snap - and he does.

jaw snapping shut, he watches you as you move on him, eyes desperate, hungry.

you let your hand slide over the wet patch you've made to palm him, squeezing his cock experimentally. it throbs, twitches; the breath catches in his throat at your palm and you hum. he lets out a low moan when you unclasp his jeans, tugging then down enough to let his cock spring free.

he's impossibly hard; leaking precum and throbbing, Joel stares up at you as you dance your fingertips around the course hair at the base, watching him move under you. his lips are parted, but nothing more than grunts and breaths leave them; you grin. "what's wrong, Mr. Miller?" you tilt your head, "scared you'll cum too quick?"

his eyes roll at your sass, but whatever lip he was about to deliver is cut off when you move your hips upward; grazing over his aching cock is your wet arousal, your cunt enveloping him in your heat. it's as much a tease to him as it is to you - you're aching with need, cunt swallowing around nothing each time you slide your hips against his cock and feel it slide through your slick.

"please." it is like a breath in the wind, but it makes you smirk. your hand slides to hold his jaw, tilting his head until he looks at you straight-on - his eyes are wide and pleading, begging. it coils something very deep within you.

"you're real handsome like this, Joel." you say, just to watch the blush over his cheeks. his brows furrow, nostrils flaring; irritated, bashful, embarrassed. "I love it when you're so desperate you can't think straight."

he lifts a brow, not daring to say anything - you see the knowing look in his eyes, though; he loves it just as much as you do. you wonder, briefly, if he's ever really let go like this before, let someone else take control. it makes you throb to think you might be the first one. your clit brushes to head of his dick and you both gasp; your hand slides until your thumb pulls on his bottom lip. parting his mouth, he watches you expectantly - a tingle within you as you realize what he expects without having to tell you, and so you do it. spitting, you watch as your saliva mixes with his on his tongue and he groans, swallowing it quickly.

fuck, it feels good; your slick has ruined his jeans and you've run out of patience.

slowly, you rise to your knees and grasp his cock, giving two pumps that have his eyes shutting and swears tumbling from his bitten lips. but then, you notch him at your entrance, swallowing thickly at his size - no matter how many times you take Joel, it's always a stretch.

he feels it too, his eyes widening in bliss. "c'mon, now-" he becomes impatient; you serve him a warning look, lifting a brow. his expression is one of pure resentment and arousal - you're relieved for a moment that he truly is injured, otherwise you know your ass would be spanked completely raw and you'd probably be fucked out on the floor having alerted the whole neighborhood.

"quit actin' like you've never done this before," he snaps, clearly fed up with playing around, "like you weren't made to slut yourself out on my cock. let me feel you." but his eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head, adding a small, sarcastic, "please."

a shiver of desire cascades over you; irritation at him standing you up, at getting injured and not telling you, at the storm for ruining your crops - all the frustration dissipates when you sink yourself slowly onto Joel, feeling him split you open.

you moan in tandem with him, taking him as low as you can go until you let out a short whine, feeling his cock punch your cervix. deep- he always gets so fucking deep.

you remain slow because you know he wants it fast. a rise and fall of your hips, teasing, as he drags alongside your channels, your cunt squeezing him deliciously. you're already nearing bliss once again, eyes fluttering at the feeling; using him, taking what you need.

his own eyes are screwed shut, jaw more tense than you've seen before; breathing heavily, it's as if he's trying to fight an orgasm already. you smirk, shaking your head, "already so close, old man?" you tut, leaning back to balance one hand on his lower thigh, the other hiking up your dress so that he can see your slick, where his cock is swallowed by your greedy pussy.

you sigh, the feeling euphoric as his hips slowly buck to meet yours, fucking into you as you bounce on him. you try not to let your eyes roll back, taking in the slow sweetness of him filling you to the brim. "you're so fucking lucky, you know that?" you hiss, eyes knitting together. "such a fuckin' asshole, yet here I am letting you fuck me."

he groans, head falling backwards and his free fist not wrapped in the sling fisting the sheets with a death grip. you slow your hips slightly when he doesn't respond, watching him with arousal swirling across your vision. a low fire burns bright within your core, your orgasm building up again.

“fuck," he nearly moans it, "I know. I know. just- don’t fuckin' stop, baby.”

you've never heard him this desperate; it shoots ecstasy through your very veins, curling your toes and making you clench around him, throbbing in pleasure. "pussy's fuckin' heaven." he mutters to himself. you flutter, shivering down your spine.

"dirty man," you whimper, starting to fuck yourself onto him harder; you bite back a moan as you hear your wet cunt against him, legs beginning to shake. "how long did you know me before you decided you wanted me, hm?"

he lets out a low groan, hand flying to rake through his curls as he bucks his hips with yours. your hand flies to his cheek, landing a smack upon the apple of it. a light slap, one to make sure he's paying attention; the doe-look in his eyes makes your arousal coil, that spring getting tighter and tighter.

is this how he feels when you're underneath him, looking up at him like that? "I asked you a question." you whisper.

"m-moment I saw you," he says, "y'know that, baby." he affirms, barely able to string his words together. warmth courses through you at the admission, so free, so honest.

"fantasized about me for months, didn't you? and now you have me, and you're leaving me all alone on our first date?" you shake your head, pushing your hair away from your face before toying with your tits once again, sighing as you shiver. you're chasing your high already, spurred on by his flustered state, by the power you've found within it.

the rain slams on the windows outside, but you couldn't care less.

you know he's injured; you know Joel, he wouldn't intentionally hurt you - but standing you up on your first date still stings, and you're not afraid to let him know.

you're close to your orgasm, and Joel can tell - his thighs are thick cords of muscle beneath you as he begins to fuck up into you, tip of his cock pushing against your cervix and making you bite back a scream of pleasure.

you cast yourself forward, avoiding his injured shoulder as you nip along his neck, tongue sliding against the damp, hot skin. "we can play games all we want, Mr. Miller," you whisper against his ear, relishing in the deep spot he hits within you, "but we both know. I own you."

he lets out a groan at this, his hips bucking up into you; you gasp as his cock punches your cunt, hitting so deep you keen upwards, toes curling. fuck. "yeah baby, I'm yours-" his voice nearly breaks as he says it, looking as if fighting an internal war over risking further injury to his shoulder if it means pulling you down harder against him. "fuck, so fuckin' pretty like this, all mine."

his chattermouth seems to have returned; in great time, too, as you grip the hand he's cemented to the sheets and shove it between you two, gasping as you near your high.

"make me cum," you instruct, "make me cum, then maybe I'll let you cum. can you do that?"

it is an echo of what he'd asked you just days ago in your own bed; with the rain pouring down, flickering in candlelight.

"fuck," he mutters, "yes." he affirms; you nod, too blissed out to respond more. his fingers spring to life desperately, his own thrusts sloppy as he seemingly tries to stave off his own orgasm. your body is on an electric wire; every muscle clenches when his rough fingers find your clit, toying and rubbing furiously to bring you to that brink. "g-good, that's so good-" you moan, trying desperately to control the volume of your voice as you shake with pleasure. "don't fucking cum, Miller." you order, hand falling to his throat. he moans, nodding.

"please," he says it quietly; you see the hunger, that darkness in his eyes as he strains. you gasp, a wave hitting you as he begs, "please, cum for me, pretty girl." he groans, "wanna feel it. c'mon-"

you hit your orgasm with a gasp and a low, drawn out moan. it rolls over you in waves, pulsing, dragging you into the current and spitting you, heaving, back into the universe. he's pressed his hand over your mouth; a desperate plea to remain undiscovered, as your hand falls similarly to his mouth from his throat.

you feel his lips form your name under your fingers; it feels like home.

his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim; he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss Joel's neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers fly up; too weak of desire, you let him grip the side of your thigh. "shit," he mutters, "darlin', I'm close-"

shaking your head, you stare at him, "didn't tell you you could cum yet, did I?"

the taste of his own medicine looks divine upon his face; the graying facial hair glinting in the rainy light outside, his thick neck on display again. he growls and it stirs something delicious within you.

you feel your grip on reality - on your control, on him - start to loosen as your thrusts become sloppy. "Joel," you whine looking into his eyes. it's as if he snaps.

he’s surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arm rising to your waist to hold you as you move. this position hits the perfect spot inside you that you have to bite hard on his good shoulder to avoid screaming in ecstasy.

the rain washes away the sound of skin against skin but you feel it, you feel him everywhere.

"I'm close," he mutters. your eyes are screwed shut; you jolt when you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing figure-eights on your clit and you nearly writhe in his hold, whispering, "don't- you'll hurt yourself."

"don't fuckin' care." he almost growls, beginning to drive up into you, tilting until your toes curl and your whole body shakes. "jus' wanna cum with you. can I cum with you, baby?"

his voice is so desperate your eyes nearly roll back. you move your hips, chasing the high that you can feel coming. you clench, feeling the familiar feeling creeping on you, your cunt puffy and spent; hungry. his hand grips tight on the junction of your leg and hip, fingers squeezing the sides of your ass as he pulls you down onto him, grunting with his eyes closed.

he looks angelic like this, flushed and wide-eyes as he bites his lip. your eyes meet his and you nod, "cum with me, Joel, yes-"

you shake as you hit your high, legs giving out a bit as you pulse and clench around his cock. it immediately makes him cum, thrusting into you and shooting hot spurts deep inside you, his moan desperate and full of pleasure. "could stay with you forever," he says, voice hollow and spent, warm and tired as he pushes his length impossibly deeper into you, sending you keening. your thighs quiver, feeling the cum that leaks from you drip onto his jeans; your heart stops, a wash of flattery over you suddenly as you register his words. "keep you with me forever."

your heart is suddenly pounding, chest heaving, eyes blissful. you stay, arms on him as his good arm stays around you, pulling your weight on top of him. his cock still throbs gently inside you as you press your cheek against his chest.

keep you with me forever. you sigh at the thought, blinking syrupy, pressing a kiss over his chest.

you open your mouth; in fact, the sentiment is there, unspoken and unadmitted but still lingering like clouds and sunsets and uncertainty and fear in your mind. something like love.

but he cuts you off before you can even speak, "I'm sorry," he mumbles, lips brushing against your hairline, "I wanted tonight to be perfect. I'm sorry I got hurt, 'n I'm sorry I didn't tell ya."

you swallow back your words, nodding, "Joel, I understand. tell me next time."

he nods, "jus' gotta stop fucking this up." he says, voice slightly anxious. furrowing your brows, you sit up slightly; you both wince at your sore bodies, but you don't mind. frowning, you take in the melancholy that's settled now that the haze of lust as subsided. this isn't normal; trying to navigate any kind of relationship itself is difficult, let alone your rocky start with each other - god forbid you have rough patches, misunderstandings.

Joel has shown his capacity to mature, to work on himself, and you wouldn't dare write that off as nothing. you know it isn't - you know just a few of the many things Joel has seen in his time. you will learn when he is ready, but for now you wait, patient.

"hey," you say softly, guiding his cheek in your palm. he looks at you with large eyes as you shake your head, "you care about me" you affirm.

he nods with no hesitation, "yes, I do. I-" he cuts himself off, looking away before taking a breath, "jus' don't deserve you, s'all."

you shrug, "well, I care about you too. that's what matters. everything else, we're just..." you purse your lips with a small smile, giddy at the thought of his words earlier; in this life, finding any kind of happiness is wholly unrealistic and more than a privilege. and yet, you have this man in front of you; a protector, a friend, a lover - things are fucked up, yes, but there isn't anything in this world that isn't.

perhaps it's time to start maturing; perhaps it's time to start seeing things for what they are.

"figuring it out?" he offers, looking almost hopeful. you nod; he kisses you fully, lips tasting a faint hint of your arousal from earlier.

he hums as his hand trails over your back, up your neck. "your hair's still wet." he observes against your lips, hand carding through the strands. you nod bashfully, "was pouring out earlier." you remind him.

he hums, "still is." he observes, chin jutting to the window. you look on, taking in the tears that slide down the panes violently; a cry from the world, though your heart is filled with something much more joyous. "s'ppose it's too late to take you to get drinks, then?" he suggests, giving you a look. you look at him wildly, "you're injured, Joel."

he sighs, "don't matter, like I said." he argues. you huff, shaking your head, "I heard you were being babied all day, and now you want to walk down into town in the torrential downpour?"

he stiffens, lifting a brow; you flush when you feel his semi-hard cock warm inside you. "who the hell said I was bein' a baby?" he says; you laugh. he laughs, too. it's nice.

shaking your head, you sigh. "we'll wait until you feel better, Joel. then you can take me for as many drinks as you'd like."

he sighs, "get'ya all the liquor left in this place if I can help it." he mutters, kissing your hairline again, "I'm sorry, again."

you kiss his lips, knowing he means it. "I know you are." you whisper back, a hand soothing over him. his eyes are a deep honey, searching yours with vulnerability; you're reminded of his words from just moments ago and flush.

Joel speaks up again first. "would you-" he swallows thickly, and you turn to watch him, still bathing in the afterglow of two orgasms, his cock still snug within you. his good hand slides over your spine, "would you stay the night?" he asks, eyes vulnerable, "y'can borrow some clothes." he offers, looking over your soaked dress hopefully.

something flutters in your stomach and you nod, "sure, I'd like that."

he's never invited you explicitly like this; you smile gently, deciding not to tease him for the blush upon your cheeks. you watch the curve of his nose, the curve of his jawline as he suppresses a bashful grin - you flicker with a stir of arousal. "can I use your shower?" you ask, eyes flickering to the bathroom that connects to his room. clearing his throat, he nods. "'course."

you purse your lips, "can you get in the shower with your shoulder like that?" you ask; his brow lifts in interest, some kind of arousal swirling in the depths of his eyes. "for a piece of this ass?" he mutters, hand groping your left cheek hungrily, "I can at least try."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the newly restored desire that grows between your thighs, smirking. "I should say you should take me to dinner first."

he chuckles, "ship's sailed on that, I think." he slaps your ass, watching with sharp eyes as the flesh bounces with the impact. "I'll make y'dinner when I'm healed, though."

you hum against his lips, sliding off of him and gasping at the feeling of his cum slipping between your thighs. you yelp lightly, grinning as you rise up and he slaps your ass again. "help clean me up first," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his nose, "then I'll consider it."

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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poisoned mercury | close as strangers (post chb)

a/n: okayyyy so i didn't give them an angst ending but i had to give into the angst monster at least once for this series so here's a bonus chapter for poisoned mercury. miscommunication galore. long distance is hard! two dumbasses in love!

song: close as strangers by 5sos

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"i'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?" luke whispered, trying not to wake his bandmates up. the tour bus was large enough to house them while they were on the road, but it didn't really give the privacy he hoped for. chris was just across the narrow walkway from him and luke could hear his soft snores through the thin curtain that separated them.

luke felt his heart hammering in his chest when you didn't reply to him. he could still hear your breaths through the phone and you were just talking to him a second ago, so he knew you were still awake. you both had equally busy lives which meant that your phone calls were getting shorter and shorter each day. luke knew it was because you were booked with school and tournaments for field hockey and he was always exhausted after each meeting now that the band was working on their second album. luke knew all of this, but it didn't stop him from missing you. he was lucky to get a ten-minute call with you nowadays.

"baby?" he tried again, chewing on his bottom lip. he turned to face the ceiling of his bunk, the light from his phone casting a shadow on his face as he waited for you to say something. anything. "can i call you tomorrow?"

you sighed, "i don't know, luke. i have a busy day. it's a travel game tomorrow so i don't know if i'll be up late."

"oh," he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment. he felt a little stupid that there were tears pooling in his eyes. so you can't talk tomorrow, it shouldn't be a big deal, right? except that luke felt like you were pulling away from him. little by little. and he didn't know how to stop it. it wasn't like he could drop everything to show up at your doorstep and fix things with you. if it was up to him, he would do it in a heartbeat, but you'd probably get mad at him for it, for abandoning his responsibilities as the lead singer of the most popular band in the world. not to mention the boys would be livid and mr. d and his mom would be equally furious.

"sorry, maybe next week?"

"yeah, sure," he replied, thankful that you weren't on facetime tonight. he didn't want you to see his face. "alright, i'll let you get some rest. go kill it tomorrow. g'night, five star."

"goodnight," you said, ending the call as soon as the last syllable left your lips.

luke groaned quietly, tossing his phone on the foot of his bed. he knew long distance was going to be difficult. it's been months since he last saw you, months since he was at camp half blood, sleeping in your bed and waking up to the feeling of your lips peppering kisses on his face. maybe he shouldn't have gotten so attached so fast, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.

he got out from his bunk, tucking his feet into his slippers and made his way to the living room area of the bus. he sat on the couch, peering out the window to watch the empty roads ahead. they were on their way to nashville to meet with a producer that mr. d recommended. the second album was almost done, but it was missing something and none of them wanted to put out a record that didn't meet their expectations.

mr. d was already in tennessee waiting for them. he'd flown in from houston a few days ago with luke's mom and the rest of the poisoned mercury team while the boys were in atlanta for a movie premiere. they decided that a road trip was needed to de-stress after the glitz and buzz of the red carpet. it was nice to have some alone time with the boys. in their tour bus, luke felt like they were back in connecticut, just four friends fucking around, writing music, and eating junk food until their stomachs hurt.

he turned on the tv, switching to some random channel that he wasn't paying attention to. he just needed some noise to drown out his thoughts, but that didn't seem to work. all he could think of was you, his five star, and how much he missed you. luke wondered if you were having second thoughts about this whole thing. maybe he'd been too optimistic about things; maybe you weren't on the same page as he was; maybe you realized that it was too difficult to be with him.

a shiver ran down his spine as he spiraled into his thoughts. admitting to himself that something was wrong between the two of you left a bitter taste in his mouth because he didn't want to believe it. he saw you as his endgame, like nobody else in the world could compare to you, and to think that you may not feel the same about him... well, it was a difficult pill to swallow.

he wondered if he came on too strong, showed his cards too early, and seemed too clingy and lovestruck before it was deemed appropriate. you'd only been together, officially at least, for four months, most of which were long distance, but luke knew he was a goner for you way before that.

he silently cursed as the chill of the december air hit his skin. he should've worn a hoodie. he grabbed the small throw blanket draped over the armchair and placed it around his shoulders. he wished he got to see you over thanksgiving break because maybe you two wouldn't be in this rocky situation right now, but your coach ordered you and clarisse to stay on campus over break to sharpen your skills since you missed summer training. luke and chris were less than pleased with the idea, but they knew it was out of their control.

luke fell asleep on the couch that night after succumbing to the tiredness in his body. the sun was beginning to rise by the time his eyelids fluttered shut. he hoped that he'd wake up to a text from you, but when he woke up to the sound of the bus screeching to a halt in nashville, he realized it was the hope that kills.

“are you guys going to the fall concert?” silena asked, poking her head out of the bathroom. she was part of the planning committee for the unc fall semester concert and she’d been stressing over the logistics of it for weeks.

“lena, if we even tried to miss it, you’d kill us,” clarisse chuckled, putting on a coat of mascara. “you’ve been talking about this since we got back.”

the three of you were getting ready in your dorm. you and clarisse were roommates this year, thank gods for athlete privileges, and silena lived in the building next door in a single since she was an ra. how she had the time to be an ra, be a member of the music festival planning committee, and be a full-time student was truly beyond your comprehension.

“lena, calm down. it’ll be good,” you squeezed her shoulders as you passed by behind her, grabbing your lipgloss from the counter. “and even if it sucks, half the people in the crowd are either drunk or high or both and will probably not remember it.”

“true,” she snorted, curling the final piece of her hair. she unplugged her hair curler and gave herself one last look in the mirror, “i’ll see you guys there? i gotta go make sure shit didn’t hit the fan.”

you and clarisse nodded as silena said her goodbyes. you dabbed on some lipgloss, glancing down at your phone every few seconds. clarisse side-eyed you, unable to hide her smile, “you waitin’ for a text?”

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes at her teasing tone. she didn't really know that your relationship was a little muddy at the moment. you weren’t the best at talking about your feelings and it felt wrong to talk about your relationship drama when clarisse and chris seemed to be going strong. “they’re supposed to land in los angeles ten minutes ago.”

“their flight probably got delayed, y/n,” she replied, “happens all the time.”

“no, i know, but just wanna make sure they’re safe, y’know?”

clarisse crossed her arms over her chest, “they’re safe or he’s safe?”

you ignored her question, opting to busy yourself with the weather app on your phone to avoid any follow-up questions, “how are you not checking your phone for a text from chris right now?”

she shrugged, “he always knocks out on long flights so i don’t expect a text until he gets to their hotel.”

“how are you and chris, by the way? i know we live together and shit, but i feel like we haven’t gotten to talk about it in detail since we’re always so tired from school and practice.”

“we’re good,” clarisse hummed, “just miss him loads, though. i haven’t seen him since we left camp– what? four, almost five, months ago?”

you were in the same boat, kind of. you and luke hadn’t seen each other in months and you were getting antsy. they’d been on the road for the past few months, meeting with producers and fulfilling their contractual obligations. they hadn’t been in a set location long enough for you to be able to fly out to see luke, even just for a weekend.

at first, there were movie dates where you’d order each other food and eat and watch the movie on facetime together. there were weekly phone calls and daily texts, but nothing compares to the real thing. being with luke in person was something that you were craving. camp half blood spoiled you with having him all for yourself and now that you were back in school and he’s out in the world, it was beginning to weigh on you.

you missed him. a lot.

you missed kissing him and feeling his lips break out into a smile when you’d mumble something stupid. you missed feeling his arms around you, hugging you from behind while you got ready for the day. you even missed waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of him scribbling random lyrics on pieces of scrap paper he found in your room when he slept over.

long distance is hard and sure, luke wouldn’t be the type to cheat or do anything to jeopardize your relationship, but it still didn’t stop a knot from forming in your stomach every time a picture of him or the band popped up on your social media with a gorgeous singer, actor, or model that they ran into on the red carpet. what if he realizes one day that he wants someone who lives the same life as him? wild and adventurous, not tied down by school or sports?

a part of you felt silly for being so insecure about things. it was too early in the relationship to have this conversation, isn’t it? you knew that your avoidance of the topic was starting to affect your relationship with luke, as much as you wished it didn’t, but what if the minute you voice your concerns, he’ll realize that being with you was more than he bargained for? after all, you weren’t the same five star with all the time in her hands, care-free, and relaxed that he met at camp. there was a chance that luke would call it quits on this if you said anything and it felt like too big of a risk to take.

your phone buzzed on the counter, indicating a text.

from: luke <3

‘landed and jetlagged. gonna sleep for a few. enjoy the concert babe!’

you hearted the message and slipped your phone into your back pocket after sending him a quick goodnight text. the three dots popped up for a second, then in a blink, they disappeared. read at 8:43 pm.

“you ready?”

you snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of clarisse’s voice. you nodded and grabbed your small purse before heading out the door. you ran into a group of your teammates who were heading to the amphitheater across campus for the concert. the walk seemed to fly by as they cracked jokes and shared stories about random things. you stayed silent for the most part, only laughing along when it seemed like the right time, but your mind was somewhere else. your mind was in los angeles.

by the time you got to the venue, you and clarisse separated from the group to enter the vip tent, courtesy of silena. a small crowd was beginning to form in front of the stage, taking up the grassy field. charlie was already at the tent, sipping on an ipa when he saw the two of you. his face broke out into a wide smile, giving you and clarisse a quick hug before leading you to the seats he saved.

“season’s looking promising for you guys, charlie,” you commented, accepting the high noon he offered. “the team’s looking good out there.”

“thanks,” he beamed, “don’t think we’re on the level of national champs just yet like you guys, but we’re trying!”

“you guys are doing great,” clarisse chimed in, “the energy in the stadium is electric this year. makes me love college.”

“are you telling me the papers and tests aren’t what makes you love college, la rue?” charlie teased.

she snorted, “oh yeah, because i just love staying up until 1 am writing a paper on greek mythology for classics 101.”

the three of you fell into a comfortable conversation about the class you were all taking. it was a prerequisite class that most athletes choose to take because the professor was flexible with deadlines when it came to athletes. it was helpful especially when a team has to play beyond their season for tournaments or championships. about ten minutes before the opening act got on stage, silena rushed into the tent.

“guys, please you need to come with me. i need your help,” she said frantically. she was nervously tugging on her ‘staff’ badge around her neck, already halfway out of the tent as she waited for the three of you to follow her. “please, it’s an emergency.”

“woah, lena, what’s going on?” you asked, getting up to comfort her. you followed her through the crowd, grabbing clarisse’s hand to keep her close.

silena shook her head, continuing her march through the sea of people, “just come with me, i’ll explain when we get backstage.”

you and clarisse looked at each other, feeling bad for silena. she put in her blood, sweat, and tears into this concert and you knew that she would beat herself up over it if something went wrong. silena always put her all into the projects she’s passionate about, but sometimes things outside of her control happen and unfortunately, she blames herself for it.

in the whirlwind of ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘sorry’s’, the four of you managed to make your way backstage. it was chaotic. people were running around everywhere making sure everything was set for the opening act. the girl who was opening the concert was waiting by the wings, her guitar strapped across her chest as she took some deep breaths. the crowd wasn’t full yet, but you knew that if you were in that position, you’d still be sweating buckets. going out there on stage to perform for strangers was nerve-racking. you didn’t know how luke did it. you admired that about him.

“lena, are you gonna tell us what’s going on?” clarisse questioned, picking up the pace of her steps to match silena.

silena stopped in front of a door, slowly turning to face you and clarisse. suddenly, her stressed facade faded as she twisted the doorknob, “why don’t you see for yourself?”

if you weren’t so confused about what was going on, you would’ve seen charlie lift his can up to his lips to hide his smile at how proud he was of his girlfriend for her acting skills. when the door opened, your heart stopped.

luke was here.

he stood in the middle of the room beside chris with a nervous smile on his face. he was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a white tank top and black pants. his poisoned mercury chain hung from his neck, shining under the overhead lights. his hands were stuffed in his front pockets, shy and timid, as he waited for your reaction.

clarisse screamed when it hit her that chris was actually here. she ran to him and nearly tackled him to the floor. chris wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and laughed as she giggled into his neck. the two of them shared a heartfelt reunion before rushing out of the room to get some privacy. the sound of the door shutting behind you made you blink.

luke cleared his throat, right hand scratching the back of his neck, “hey, five star.”

the nickname brought you back to your senses. you ran to him, engulfing him in a tight hug with an ‘umph.’ at first, luke was tense under your touch, unsure if you’d be happy with his surprise, but quickly, he melted into you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing in content as your familiar scent surrounded him. he felt sparks coursing through his veins as you hugged him tighter and all he could think about was how good it felt to have you in his arms again. his mind was still reeling at your reaction. he didn’t expect you to run to him like this, especially not when it felt like you’d been avoiding his calls over the last few weeks.

“what are you doing here?” you asked him, pulling away to hold his face in your hands. your eyes twinkled as you raked over his face, still in disbelief that he was actually in front of you. “you’re supposed to be in la.”

luke couldn’t stop the lopsided smile on his face, “well, i lied? we were in nashville recording with your dad and he mentioned that he didn’t schedule a session for us this weekend in case me and chris wanted to take a trip to north carolina, so here we are.”

you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones, whispering, “here you are.”

“god, i missed you so much,” he said, voice breaking. “you have no idea how hard it’s been.”

you gulped, your hold on his face faltering a bit. if luke wasn’t on edge, he wouldn’t have noticed the falter in your step, but he felt the slight hesitation in your actions. your warm touch slowly peeled away from his face and he instantly regretted saying those words. here he goes being clingy again. he removed his hands from your waist, clearing his throat. he sat on the couch, motioning for you to sit beside him. he tried to keep his hands to himself when you left a space between the two of you.

“i still can’t believe you’re really here,” you said, staring at him. you wanted to lean over and hold him in your arms again, but there was a weird tension in the air that made you feel queasy. “i feel like i’m dreaming right now.”

“i hope you’re not mad that i’m here,” luke looked down at his lap, flexing his hands. he had to keep his hands busy or else he’d surely reach for yours and he didn’t want to come on too strong. he had to keep his distance. he didn’t want to scare you off any more than he already did. “there was just an opening in the schedule and i-i wanted to see you.”

“i’m not mad at all.”

“good, good,” he replied. silence. he forced himself to look up from his lap, twisting his body to face you. he bit his bottom lip, trying to build up the courage to ask his next question. “are we okay?”

“we’re okay.”

“okay because i feel like things have been different between us lately,” he pursed his lips, looking at you with sad eyes. his tongue poked out the corner of his lips, eyes darting between you and the wall behind you. “i don’t know. i feel like we haven’t talked in ages, y’know? and i know you’re busy and you have a great life here that i’m not really a part of, but uh, i wanna be, y’know? i don’t know much about school or field hockey, but it’s important to you and you’re important to me so i wanna hear about it.”

he was met with more silence. luke continued, “maybe i’m asking for too much when i ask you to let me be a part of this life, but uh, i miss you? and i just feel like i’m losing you and that’s the last thing i want. so you gotta give me something, five star. tell me what i can do to be better.”

“if you need me to back off, i’ll do it, you know? you call the shots. you tell me what you need from me, and i’ll do it, okay? i just– i can’t lose this. i don’t wanna lose you,” luke mumbled. “maybe this is all in my head too. i don’t know anymore.”

you shuddered, lip quivering, “i feel like i’m holding you back.”

“what?”

“come on, luke,” you flicked away the tear that trickled down your cheek, “you’re out there in the world doing what you love. meeting new people. living your life and i don’t want to hold you back from that. we met each other when i didn’t have all these responsibilities and who i was at camp is not who i am here and i know you love those impromptu adventures and trips and spontaneity. a-and i can’t give that to you.”

“you deserve someone who can live this life with you and i’m stuck here for two more years, luke. i can’t do that,” it was getting hard to breathe. your throat felt like it was closing up, cutting off your airflow. you’d been putting off this conversation for weeks. it didn’t feel right to talk about this over the phone, and you thought that you had a few more weeks to figure out what to say to him when you saw him for winter break, but he was here now. “you deserve more than facetime calls and text messages, and that’s all i can offer.”

“is this–” he paused, licking his lips. “is this not what you want anymore?”

“what?”

“this, us? is this just not what you want anymore?”

an involuntary laugh escaped you as you wiped under your eye, “castellan, i don’t think i could stop wanting you even if i wanted to. and you know when we first met, i really wanted to.”

luke moved closer to you, just an inch or two, trying to gauge your reaction. you didn’t move away, which he took as a good sign, “i’m confused. why do you sound like you want to end this then?”

“i don’t want you to settle for this,” you sighed, “i know what you deserve and it isn’t this.”

“bullshit.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him in disbelief, “what?”

“i’m sorry, five star, but that’s bullshit,” a small smile was tugging on his lips. he reached over to place a hand over yours. his fingers traced your knuckles, running the pads of his fingers across the familiar ridges of your skin. “i don’t understand how after all this time you still don’t realize that all i want is you. it’s ridiculous, really.”

“it’s ridiculous?”

“it’s ridiculous,” he chuckled wetly. his other hand rubbed at his eyes, clearing his foggy vision. “our situation isn’t ideal, i know that, but i’d take long distance with you over anything else with anyone else. don’t you get it, five star? you’re it for me. if this isn’t what you want anymore, i’ll accept that. but if you’re only doing this because you don’t think i want this… five star, i want it all with you. long distance. phone calls. text messages. weekend trips when we can get them. distance has nothing on how i feel about you.”

leave it to luke castellan to make you blush. you shyly looked at him, eyes twinkling with something more than either of you bargained for when you first met in that secret spot you call yours, “how do you feel about me?”

“i’m not gonna say it right now because i don’t want to have the first time be while we’re in a fight,” luke laughed. the air was starting to clear. “but i have a feeling you know.”

“i know,” you squeezed his hand three times, “i do too.”

“will you put me out of my misery and kiss me please?”

“always so fucking dramatic,” you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes, but you leaned over and pressed your lips to his.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n

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saerins · 5 months

Text

⋆୨ chapter six ୧˚ redefines in every way what love is

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter five - if not for this love of mine <> next: chapter seven - till forever falls apart ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 13.2k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, manipulation, mostly from sae’s (& mirin’s) pov | notes: okay i’ve finally finished it !! sorry for the super long break but real life had a chokehold on me (aka my job sucks) </3 anyway ! hope you enjoy sae’s pov , heh he’s so bad at relationships but sorry i love him <3 next chapter should be the last so ^_^

Sae & Mirin; 17.

It was a peculiar feeling.

Up until that point, whatever interest Sae had in life centred around soccer. Around being the best. Needless to say, when his parents weren’t too happy about both their sons not wanting to take over the family business, Sae took the brunt of it all.

His fingers idly traced circles around the injury on his ankle—the injury caused by another player perpetrated by his parents. It was honestly laughable; the extent to which his parents would go to to have him submit to their will.

“Hey, handsome and gloomy.”

There was that voice he loved to hear. It was silly how easy it was for a special someone to make him smile. A warm pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck from behind, pressing her weight down on top of him.

“Yes, pretty?”

Mirin laughed, that smile lighting up her features. Her lips pressed a kiss against his cheek before she settled beside him.

They were sitting on top of the school building—after lessons, because Mirin had strict parents who would kill her if she ever skipped class.

“Look at you, moping up here all on your own, ignoring your girlfriend,” she mused, body swaying from side to side before her head eventually rested on his shoulder. A sigh left her lips, the graduation looming upon them catching up to her.

Sae chuckled, pressing a soft kiss onto the top of her head, both of them relishing in the moment. There was an uneasiness that pressed in the air around them, but it was one that Sae chose to ignore. Mirin had a lot of things on her mind that she liked to keep to herself, and this was something that happened very often. It could be because of her overbearing parents, but Sae never minded that.

“Sae, can I ask you something?”

It was a timid tone that he wasn’t used to, but he let it slide.

“Anything.”

“Ten years from now, would you still love me the same?” It was a question that made Sae snort, because he didn’t realise Mirin would talk about the future. She wasn’t one to do so. She nudged him on the arm, laughing along with him because it was hard for her to be all down when she was around him. “Hey, I’m serious, ten years from now, would you still love this annoying, hard headed girlfriend of yours?”

At that time, it wasn’t a hard question. At that time, all Sae could see and care about was Mirin. There was never a doubt in his mind.

So he looked her in the eye, his pinky finger looped around hers.

“Ten years from now, huh? Think I would’ve married you by then.”

Mirin smiled, the most genuine one she ever let loose in her life. Only because at that moment, she felt his sincerity. The only person who treated her with any sort of decency in the way that she needed. In the face of her strict family, with Sae, she had nothing to fear. He was all she needed.

“I’ll hold you to it, Itoshi Sae.”

Sae chuckled, leaning down to kiss Mirin on the lips. “Whatever you say, Mrs Itoshi.”

A few months ago.

The news was broken to him like he was watching a news program and the news anchor was reporting on some trivial matter.

As always, his father said such a thing oh so casually, eating away at his lamb chop and then swiftly switching the subject to wedding preparations, as if his son was a tool that he could command at will.

“What did you just say?”

Because surely Sae heard him wrongly? Surely his father did not just mention that he was to be married to a stranger he barely knew?

This was his life, wasn’t it?

“I expect you to behave, do you understand?” His father responds, ignoring Sae’s question completely. He knew his son heard him, he said it loud and clear after all. “Anyway, we’ll pay fifty-fifty and—”

“No.”

There was a threat in his father’s glare, but it was one that Sae was way too used to.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t care why you need this stupid marriage to go through but I’m not doing it.”

It was just laughable; there wasn’t any panic evident in his father’s expression. Sae should’ve known, he could already feel what was coming. If anything, his father was always prepared. It was plans on top of plans, a contingency for every situation.

“Either do this, or I’ll get Rin instead. It’ll be a pain, but don’t think I won’t do it.”

There were a lot of things Sae hated his father for, but what he hated the most was how Rin had to be brought into the conversation as a threat whenever he didn’t get his way. He knew it was the only way to control Sae, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

“Honey! Stop speaking like that… Sae, please try to understand, this will be a huge opportunity. It’s the least you owe us, hm?”

And Sae didn’t even want to think about his mother. The one who always went along with everything because she was in love with the money she married into. The one who always used faux concern as a tool to ease Sae into his father’s plans.

In the end, neither of them cared for their kids. They were only seen as heirs. Like they owed them for being born. That they were only supposed to unconditionally go along with whatever orders they were given without a second thought. They wanted robots more than actual children, it seemed.

“You lost your shot, do you want Rin to lose his too?”

It was almost all too clear who sabotaged Sae’s chance at being a pro footballer. All it took was a single moment of disobedience from Sae and sponsorship of an entire year’s worth of tuition to one of his rivals to get his leg too injured to play in comfort.

As much as it sucked, all three of them knew Sae’s answer. And just like that, his father was victorious.

“Besides, Y/N seems to be excited for this,” his mother said, trying to switch the subject.

“I’m not fucking marrying her. I don’t even know her.” The words flew out of his mouth before he even realised it.

Maybe it had something to do with Mirin. With that rumour he heard going around that she was either already back in Japan or she was coming back soon. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Sae had been waiting for her this whole time, that she was the only one he ever loved.

Of course, none of that would change his parents’ minds. Consuming your family’s company would bring them a ton of uplift that could sustain their business for many years to come, something a money-greedy businessman would go to extreme lengths to get. So it didn’t matter if Mirin’s family could also bring in benefits in terms of cooperation—it would never amount to yours.

And it was wrong. It was wrong of Sae to vent all of his hatred to the fact that you existed, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Why did you have to exist?

“Maybe we should just pull Rin out then, get him to come back here and handle all this.” His father knew not to back down.

“Sae, be a good boy and listen to us, okay? How about this—if it ever gets too bad, we’ll look into a divorce in the future, hm?” His mother was just useless, but she did at least consider how he could get out of it. Even if it would prove to be difficult in the future.

Giving up entirely, Sae walked out of the front door. There was no way out of it, for now. Not without consequences. Dire ones. For Rin.

Pulling out Oliver’s contact, Sae hit the call button, with Oliver picking up right as he got into a cab.

“Meet you guys at our usual. I need a fucking drink.”

Day of the wedding.

To say that Sae had cold feet would be an understatement.

His marriage to you would be within the next few hours. After what, a couple months of informing him that they’d arranged him to marry the daughter of their close university friends? And they left a very not-so-subtle hint that they’d force Rin back to marry her if Sae didn’t comply.

Sae realised that your family’s company rivals his own, but who would’ve thought that their sudden yield to the Itoshis wanting to buy the company would result in so much shit being passed onto Sae himself?

There were options presented to him to meet you beforehand. All of which you had agreed to (or so his parents said) and all of which he had declined. He really didn’t have the intention of playing nice with you, or acting like he cared about you. To Sae, all you were was someone standing in between the possibility of him and Mirin.

But he did see you as you walked to the venue all on your own. Without a car or your parents, dressed in a loose white sleeveless top and jeans, buying a pack of tissues from the old man across the road, giving him entirely too much money for a three-pack and then refusing the change.

Teal eyes continued observing you as the old man bowed in gratitude, and your demeanour suggested that it probably wasn’t the first time you were giving money out like charity. Sae noticed the pair of half moon crescents as you smiled, the way it lit up your entire face.

If he thought hard enough, maybe he could remember that one time you saw each other when you were kids. Just that once. He was five. You were four. He vaguely remembered you excitedly chattering away to him about something. Sae doubted you remembered any of that though. It was only once and even he didn’t recall anything about it until today.

Tearing his eyes away from you, he walked away from the ledge of the window at his dressing room, sitting on the edge of the bed, idly staring at his phone, at the messages blowing it up, mostly of Oliver and Otoya in the groupchat, saying how Mirin was actually back.

If there was one thing his friends were good at, it was detective work that they didn’t need to do. Because by now, Sae didn’t want to know.

As much as he hated his circumstances, as much as he didn’t like this situation, he was going to be a married man soon. As much as he didn’t want to, he would rather forget about Mirin sooner than later. It would only serve more hurt if he chose the latter anyway.

Still, false hope wasn’t what he wanted to give you. There was nothing that he could think of that would persuade him to love anyone else but her. That was exactly why he found himself outside your dressing room, waiting to speak to you.

Your sister was with you, and Sae kept his thoughts to himself; he remembered your earlier smile. You were the prettier one in his eyes. That didn’t change what he had to do regardless. And both of you are similar in a frustrating way—both of you like to mask your troubles with your smiles.

Maybe you didn’t want this either, then?

“Hi, um, it’s nice to meet you.”

You sounded like the most awkward person in the world. Not that it mattered. Maybe the awkward distance between the two of you would work in his favour then.

“I wanted to set things straight before we go through with anything.”

Your expression wasn’t one of happiness to begin with, but the moment he said his piece, your face looked like all the blood drained from it. Sae averted his gaze. He didn’t like hurting anyone, and surely he didn’t care for you just yet, but this was better than giving you any sort of hope.

He needed to keep it up. Even after today. Tonight, tomorrow and everyday. Until he could see that you understand where this marriage would go; absolutely nowhere, but that both of you had to stay anyway.

But your parents had impeccable timing, coming over to the room right as he was exiting. That just meant he had to entertain your family for a few more seconds, nothing too difficult. He had been dealing with his father for his whole life after all.

“So, this is the first time you’re meeting our Y/N right? What do you think, son?” Your father sounded like his father when he was trying to play nice. Suddenly it made sense that they would be in cahoots to force their kids together.

“Your daughter is…” Sae lost himself in thought for a while, thinking back to that smile he saw on you, that genuine smile when you were helping someone. Not this fake one you have plastered on to make it seem like everything was okay. You had no obligation to cover for his actions but you did it anyway. “Pretty.”

And even prettier when she’s actually smiling, he thought to himself as he retreated back to his own dressing room.

Later on during the wedding reception, Sae tried his best to act the part of a happy husband. It was hard though, considering how stiff and awkward you were. You really didn’t have talent for being an actress. He let slip a few harsh reminders, but he was careful not to get too into it—last thing he needed was for you to cry.

You were nothing to him. Nothing but the one he had to marry to get his parents off him and his brother’s back.

So why did he feel a tinge of something when he caught your best friend staring? Mikage Reo, not a bad catch himself, and he had been your best friend since elementary school, if Sae recalled correctly.

That was all he could think about when he stormed back to the dressing room, wantonly irritated by his father and mildly annoyed by your concern. The only reason he could think of for being angry was the lingering feelings of an unresolved first love.

The only one he thought he would marry, would watch as she walked down the aisle like a princess out of a fairytale. The only one who taught him love and gave him the most treasured memories of his youth. The only one who could, at this moment, receive his kindness while everyone else would be dead in his eyes.

And of course the universe would perpetuate such a connection; his phone buzzed with notifications from Mirin. An almost empty thread opened up, and he was reminded of when he tried to forget her when she dated another guy while she was overseas. But how could he really forget her when she came back and told him she couldn’t forget about him either? That if it wasn’t too much, if he could wait for her to come back?

Sae won’t deny that there was a mix of emotions about it, that Karasu had told him many times before he thought she was just leading him on, that she wanted a comfortable failsafe for when she inevitably came back and didn’t want to be alone.

That was the key reason why they drifted.

And now, she came back. She came back and she didn’t get her invite because Sae threw it in the trash because even if he didn’t know you, it was common sense that he couldn’t invite Mirin—not when she was the only person capable of changing his mind. Not when he knew she wouldn’t be afraid to voice herself.

Sae didn’t particularly like you, but he wasn’t going to deliberately hurt you that way. He was sure he would upset you in many other ways, unintentionally, but he told himself he wouldn’t do that to you.

As he looked at her chat thread, at his possible responses—how could i ever forget? and i wish it was you and many more he didn’t have the energy to type out—Sae swallowed the lump in his throat. There was a battle going on in his head; the one that knew what was right and the one that wanted to go with his heart.

He succumbed to both.

Staring at his i miss you, he started to remember how hard you tried to keep up with him earlier that day, how you probably tried to stay at his good side.

With his head in his hands, he felt the familiar flow of tears threatening to unveil—it was a hard decision but he had to make it.

That was it. Sae had decided. He had to let go of Mirin and whatever promises they made.

She had to stay in the past.

As he looked at her nickname on his phone, he wished he could will the memories away. Even as he saw her response. Even as he knew the way she told him she missed him too would haunt him for a good while.

Goodbye.

Stepping into the house you two would share felt more than just a little uneasy. Both of you had never been in the same room before today and now your parents expected the both of you to just be okay living together.

Maybe it was a little too much of Sae to just take the master bedroom and banish you to the other one, but it had been a long day and he really wasn’t a saint. He had expected you to argue back but you didn’t, and that was fine with him—maybe once he cleared his head he could think of ways to make it so things were fairer to you but not now.

Not when he was a mix of emotions just threatening to explode.

It was especially perplexing when he got into the room and started checking it out that he found his things already there, unpacked for him, a familiar black box he had once kept precious sitting on the study desk. He didn’t have to open it to know what was inside.

Apart from pictures with Rin, he really should just burn everything else.

Next time. It was always a problem for next time because he was way too annoyed at life for everything else. Looking at it was just a reminder, too, of a life he had once craved and he couldn’t move forward if it was still there.

Yeah, yeah, he’d burn it all to ashes next time and leave it all in the past like he planned.

The next few days after that, count Sae mildly surprised when you kept trying in subtle ways to ease the tension between the two of you.

There were a few things you did; you kept at your good mornings, and on the days you were feeling particularly courageous you bothered to ask him what he wanted for dinner. He didn’t reciprocate much, only contributed his mornings and told you he didn’t need dinner (although he would note how delicious the food you cooked smelled when he came home afterwards).

There was something strange about the way you made him feel—he didn’t understand where you got the energy to keep trying when you knew this wasn’t what either of you wanted. It was easy enough for him to tell that your parents forced you into this too, but what wasn’t easy was trying to see why you were so good.

What was even more frustrating was the sense of comfort he felt. It was alarming. He didn’t know why it was there. But he found himself trying to reject it.

“Isn’t this supposed to be your honeymoon period or something?”

“C’mon, Oliver, they don’t even sleep in the same room,” Otoya sighed, getting bored of the subject. He was also getting tired of watching Sae’s unenthused face every night.

Ever since he got married, he hasn’t once spent a normal night in. He just didn’t think he had any energy to spend on trying to be cordial with you. Not when a million things are still running through his head in a loop.

It was only 8.30pm, and both Oliver and Otoya were already bringing the big liquor bottles out, the lights in the karaoke room dimming.

“Where’s Karasu?”

“Busy again, with god knows what.” Otoya always sounded disinterested in anything and everything. “Where’s the girls?”

The girls, meaning the usual two that they had as fuck buddies, something Sae didn’t care for. That could be all Otoya cared for, actually.

“On the way,” Oliver replied, pouring the whisky into the shot glasses on the table. Three, even though Sae didn’t want any. “By the way,” Oliver said, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he turned to look at Sae. “I have a special guest for you.”

“What?” Sae was entirely too tired to have time to play another one of Oliver’s mind games.

Oliver was already downing a shot for no reason, and Sae chalked it up to being under the constant pressure of being a big shot lawyer’s son.

“That’s who I asked Karasu to get before coming here,” Oliver grinned, sliding a shot glass over to Sae.

Sae ignored it. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Come on, don’t play dumb,” Oliver groaned, throwing his head back against the leather seats dramatically. “Mirin? The name ring a bell?”

It did more than ring a bell, actually. It made Sae’s heart stop, made him speechless. Made Otoya snicker at his reaction.

“Thought I’d offer some incentive to cheer you up from that boring loveless marriage of yours,” Oliver commented, tossing a pack of cigarettes onto the table and lighting one up.

If Sae was being completely honest, he did want to see Mirin. He hadn’t seen her for so many years, he found a passing thought that wondered if she was still as pretty as he remembered, if she still scrunched her nose in that cute way she did and if she still used the same perfume that he liked.

But for some reason, Sae kept thinking back to you. What would you think if you found out? Somehow, he realised maybe that fact alone could make you cry. And somehow, for some abstract reason he couldn’t make out, he wasn’t okay with that.

In the background, he could faintly make out the conversation between Otoya and Oliver, something about how Otoya thought Mirin looked hot from her pictures, and how Oliver encouraged the thought, saying shit like “wait till you see her in real life.”

Normally, he’d feel like punching those who dared to talk about Mirin like that, but at that moment all he felt was nausea. In a weird turn of events, he kind of actually wanted to punch Oliver for taking a subtle dig at you. You were a good person. Even if Sae wasn’t particularly innocent at treating you less than you deserve.

Nausea nausea nausea.

It got even worse when seconds later, Karasu strolled through their door, a smirk on his face aimed at Sae.

“She’s in the restroom freshening up,” Karasu said, winking this time, Oliver whistling in anticipation.

His head was in a mess, wanting to bolt out of there straight away but failing to do so in time because the next minute, Sae watched as his first love walked through the door, looking beautiful as ever.

“Wow, four handsome guys in the room with me, huh?”

She’d gotten flirtier than he remembered. And she wasn’t directly talking to him yet, which was a relief for him.

“Yeah darling, wanna help us take a pic?” Oliver smirked, tossing her his phone.

Sae was just in a daze, looking at the camera as Mirin snapped a picture, her eyes lingering over him through the phone. If he wasn’t married, he was sure he would’ve reacted differently, but as things stood, this was wrong.

The moment Oliver suggested Mirin sit next to Sae for a picture, Sae found himself walking towards the door, muttering an excuse about how he had another appointment and leaving.

“Hey Sae, wait up—”

Mirin’s voice was loud and clear as she chased him out the door but Sae was faster. He was back into his car and driving back home, back to you, before he even made sense of it all.

When he walked through the front door, ready to just pass out on the bed because he had too many surprises earlier, he could smell the homemade cooking—the same one that made him feel nice coming home to. It was more prominent than usual.

Of course it was, because he could see the untouched food as he walked past the dining room. You were there, sitting there, a little pathetic but cute, and Sae didn’t really know what to do.

“Why haven’t you eaten?”

And you seemed a little more determined than usual, although the trembling of your fingers said otherwise. You were that easily scared of him?

“I was waiting for you.”

It was a simple thing, really. A wife waiting for her husband to get home first before eating. But to Sae, it was inexplicable. There was never any instance where he had an easy time going home, especially before this. Going home meant listening to his parents argue over money and having to pretend he didn’t hear it and have to watch them take the same stance as though he didn’t just hear their divide. Home-cooked food had lost its meaning for Sae a long time ago when all he had were private chefs cooking with technique and just that.

Since when did going home mean there would be a warm dinner waiting for him with so much effort put into picking out what he liked? Did you pay attention to his takeout whenever he ordered in?

“I already ate.”

There it was—that denial again that Sae just couldn’t seem to get rid of. Because wouldn’t all marriages dissolve into what his parents had without a strong foundation? They never loved each other, that much Sae could tell. For the longest time, he had thought maybe for once, someone could have a happy family if they actually felt the same about each other and for the longest time that person to him was Mirin.

The same girl he ignored earlier. The same girl he brushed past to get home to you. The same girl who didn’t seem to have as much of a hold over him as he thought after he saw her in the flesh.

Maybe that was why he found himself wanting to try. He had rejected you many times, relegating you to the other end of the house so he didn’t have to see you and feel guilty all the time. It was pathetic of him, yeah, and he was sorry. And call him a coward but he didn’t know how to handle any of this like a normal person would. Normal people probably wouldn’t have to be forced to marry a stranger though.

For once in his life, Sae found himself trying. Trying something he was so averse to in the first place. Trying something that he found so curious because you managed to bring it out of him.

Your efforts didn’t have to be big. It was all so small, so subtle. He saw everything and he tried to reject it—so why is he here now, picking the meat off the bones for you? You seemed so nervous he was afraid you might miss a bone and hurt yourself.

Which made no sense because you didn’t mean anything to him. Right?

So why did he feel the familiar tug on his lips, the smile threatening to form just from a simple dinner, the same way you managed to tug on his heartstrings?

When Sae heard you asking him for a favour, he thought you might’ve been joking. But your demeanour suggested you might not be. It was kind of weird, how you claimed that it was your parents who wanted to check up on the marriage and so you said that you needed Sae to cooperate, but at the same time you looked absolutely gleeful at the thought of having some semblance of normalcy in your married life with him.

He did you a favour by not calling you out for it.

But he couldn’t stop himself from being curious, from wondering what you looked like if he really threw you a bone. That was the driving force behind his close proximity to you, so close he could smell the shampoo off your hair and appreciate the way your breath hitched in your throat.

Cute.

He kept that to himself too, kept entirely way too many opinions of you to himself instead of sharing them with you.

“How are they gonna believe a thing when you’re that awkward around me?”

He gave a mental reminder to himself: maybe he should help you work on that.

But the moment you brought up finances, a bad feeling lurked in the back of his head. Just a gut feeling, if anything. Maybe it was because he was brought up in a similar household that he could tell when other people had bad intentions.

Your parents weren’t exempt from it, he was sure. They treated you like trash, from what he heard earlier, and he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to rid what would make your life harder.

You were his wife, after all.

“You want me to… transfer all my money into this account?”

He got it, it was a tough ask. Especially since Sae had been none too nice to you since you got married, but for this one, he was adamant. So you did. You gave him all your money like he asked and he really needed to teach you not to be so naive around other people but maybe you felt the same pull as he did, the overwhelming urge to trust even though it wasn’t so much rightfully earned yet.

Stupidly, he felt just that little bit of excitement creeping up inside him at the notion of actually getting a possibly normal marriage to a perfectly good person until his phone vibrated and he saw the name he was hoping he would never have to deal with again.

Mirin wanted to meet.

And if she had not texted to say it was urgent, Sae probably would’ve ignored it. But they spent a chunk of their youth together and it was way too much for him to forget all in a few days.

Still, he didn’t want to give in so easily.

As the days passed, it was strange how easy it was to warm up to you. It was as though the friction between you never existed in the first place.

Somehow, it felt like the both of you were learning as you went through with it—a marriage where you both were learning to be friends first, and Sae never actually knew how much he needed that, how much he enjoyed it.

He didn’t think he’d like it one bit.

But there he was, constantly texting you most times because you were the only person he didn’t mind speaking to nowadays. Well, you and Rin. Maybe Oliver, but after his last stunt he didn’t really want to speak to him.

Sae sighed as he texted you that he’d be coming home late. The frames already came through the mail anyway, he suspected you’d have a good time hanging the photos up everywhere. You loved taking pictures that day after all.

“Wife checking up on you?”

Mirin’s question sounded innocent, but it was enough to irk Sae. To him, it sounded invasive.

“What did you need?” Because she didn’t need to know anything about you. Sae didn’t want her to; Mirin was in the past and he wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

This entire meeting was set up only because perhaps Sae thought she didn’t warrant herself a bad reception from him. She didn’t do anything wrong.

And neither was he, so why was he afraid to just be upfront with you and tell you about Mirin?

Seemingly taken aback by his tone, Mirin looked away nervously. This was a weird setting to be in for someone who said they were upset. Sae had expected a quiet cafe or maybe even a park, not a restaurant at a five-star hotel.

Then again, this was Mirin. Someone who had been brought up being able to enjoy everything to its finest.

“I just needed a friend, that’s all.”

A sure-fire way to earn his sympathy was right there in front of him. Sure, they might have drifted for a while, but it wasn’t like Sae thought she was a bad person. She always used to be strong on her own, steadfast, never needed anything or anyone that sometimes Sae felt like he wasn’t even needed.

Yet there she was, tears spilling down her face and trying to smile and suddenly Sae couldn’t continue being so harsh anymore.

A friend was all he was going to be. It was all he would allow himself to be. The entire night, all he could think about was how much he had missed this whole time—a lot had changed the last few years. The happy family he once knew Mirin’s to be was no more, an unfaithful mother took care of that. And apparently, her father had been on a downward spiral ever since. It was why she moved back, to take care of him.

“But sometimes it gets to be too much, you know?” She was sobbing, and Sae could only watch helplessly. It was not something he was familiar with, but he knew Mirin—she wasn’t someone who would share something like this to anyone. The fact she had called him out of the blue would allude to the fact that she didn’t want to tell anyone else.

It was a lot for him to take in; just imagining being in her shoes, having a father who spiralled into nothing and refused to get back to work, having to take care of him while managing her own shit—Sae didn’t know if he would be that filial at all, but then again, his father was a lot less of one than hers was.

“Anyway,” she sniffled, wiping her tears away and trying to smile. “How’s married life? Y/N, is it?”

Sae cleared his throat, realising that he probably had offered no words to Mirin’s predicament. It was a weird thing, talking to your ex about your current wife. It made him feel like he really shouldn’t be here somehow. “Yeah, that’s her, and it’s great.”

He wasn’t even going to bother masking the awkwardness of the subject.

And Mirin wasn’t going to let up.

“Is she… good to you?”

Good was an understatement. Sae thought you were phenomenal. You didn’t harbour any ill intentions toward him even though he deserved it. You didn’t treat him any harsher like he did you. You were an angel among the living and he should have been grovelling for someone like you but instead you’d been served on a silver platter and Sae knew all of that now.

The difference between how he would’ve treated Mirin before and after you appeared was enough proof of what, or who, he really wanted.

“She’s the best,” he answered honestly, and he felt just slightly bad when Mirin’s expression dropped. Something told him that she was expecting something else. That was when Sae felt the need to draw the line. “And I don’t think she would appreciate it if she knew I was out with… you.”

Across the table, Mirin shifted in her seat, visibly uncomfortable with his tone. She recognised it; it was when he was about to break some bad news. It was always directed to someone else but never to her.

“Listen, I’m sorry you’re going through all of this, really I am,” Sae started, averting his gaze because he wasn’t actually good with words—but if he intended for this to be goodbye, then he had to. “But I don’t think it would be a good idea if we met alone anymore.”

On Mirin’s end, she didn’t want to give up. Sae had been the better part of her youth and she didn’t want to give up their entire relationship or friendship or whatever it is to some girl who had been unknown to her until she got back and realised Karasu had been invited to the wedding and not her. That must’ve been you, was it not?

So she had to play this smart. She had to, to keep this thinning line of relation between her and Sae. As long as it was still there, there had to be a shot for her, right?

“No, you’re right, I’d feel bad too, I just… I didn’t have anyone to turn to recently and—”

“It’s fine,” Sae cut in, mainly because he didn’t want to have to hear her voice break anymore. It was clear cut in his head what they couldn’t be, what he didn’t want them to be anymore. Because he wanted that with you, or at least try at it. “I know Karasu’s been busy lately what with owning his first hotel and all but… Oliver’s a pretty good listener once you get to know him more, and Otoya… you know what, just stick with Oliver—he’s a better guy than he seems. And his family’s full of lawyers too so you guys might have a lot in common.”

Mirin could feel her whole world breaking into pieces right in front of her but there was no such thing as defeat in her dictionary. All she had to do was retreat and come back twice as strong, otherwise she might lose Sae for good.

So she nodded, as though she cared for who or what his friends could do for her. Sae was the only one she wanted to be around—that night at the karaoke room was just a failed attempt, that was all.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll take your word for it,” Mirin smiled through her pain, fingers fisting at the hem of her dress. He didn’t even bother to compliment her tonight, or say anything of substance. This was not the Sae she knew, and she wanted to bring him back.

That was why, that night when she got back home (and she was absolutely miserable at how Sae didn’t even offer to drive her back, instead just staying with her until she hailed a cab), she used everything at her family’s disposal to find out more about you. You and your family and Mirin wouldn’t stop until she found out what could possibly make you break.

If there was something Sae would want answers to, it was how he went from having not a single care in the world to give you, to giving you more than he ever even gave himself. He didn’t know if it even seemed that way to you, but it was.

After he got back that night, it was as though you’d constructed a wall between the both of you. Sae could feel you pulling away a little, and he didn’t know why—all he knew was that he didn’t want you to drift. He hadn’t even gotten that close yet, and he wanted to know more about you.

Was it a crime that he couldn’t express himself properly?

It was unfathomable how he was here in the kitchen in the middle of the day, trying to cook dinner for when you got back from meeting Reo. He frowned a little just upon remembering that. Was this jealousy? Only because he was sure by the way Reo was looking at you on your wedding day that there were some hidden feelings there.

On his part, for sure. For you? Sae couldn’t be sure. He could only hope not.

But he wouldn’t discount you from getting a divorce when he saw the mess he ended up making in the kitchen, especially that charcoal-stained wall behind the stove.

Fuck, was he really this bad at anything related to maintaining the household?

Fish was cooked to fuck so he couldn’t serve that anymore. Chicken got burnt on the grill because Sae couldn’t tell when it was done for the life of him. The only thing that was left was the soup and it was still boiling on the stove so at least not all was lost.

At that moment, Sae felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and immediately picked it up, moving himself to the balcony in case you got home early.

“Oliver, find anything out?”

Over the line, Oliver scoffed. “Saw the dad going to the bank, think he went to take whatever was in his safe deposit box. Mother was there too.”

Through the phone, Sae could still tell Oliver was smoking. He still remembered how much smoke would fill his car whenever he rode with him. There was a long pause as Sae tried to gather his thoughts.

“So, Itoshi Sae had a change of heart, huh?” Oliver’s teasing voice rang loud over the line.

Sae rolled his eyes, somewhat regretting asking the guy for a favour.

“What about Mirin? Still ditching her all the time?”

Sae wouldn’t call it ditching. He just… kept rejecting every single time she’d ask him out. Sure, she kept it in line with what he had told her last time, which was to not hang out alone, but Sae didn’t necessarily hang out together in a group either.

“You know, she—”

“Don’t care,” Sae interjected.

“Oh? Really? What if—”

“Don’t wanna hear anything about her, if you don’t mind.” And he was being completely honest. Sure, she kept responding to his stories and he was being nice by giving them a reaction, and sometimes she kept trying to text him although he barely gave any good responses—but that was the extent of their friendship right now, as far as Sae would allow it.

Oliver chuckled through the phone, hands up in surrender even though no one would see it. “Fine, have it your way.”

“Just tell me if you find anything else,” Sae muttered, completely exhausted from having to deal with anything related to Mirin and for once, Oliver was surprised.

“Aye aye, sir,” Oliver murmured sarcastically before hanging up.

The Sae he knew before you would never be caught dead trying to push Mirin away. Sighing, Oliver drove away, losing sight of your parents from his rearview mirror.

“Just don’t say I didn’t try to warn you, Sae.”

Maybe the tickets his parents gave him to celebrate the honeymoon in Korea was a huge blessing in disguise. From looking at you being excited all through the airport just because everyone had been calling you Mrs Itoshi and Sae had been addressing you as his wife, to actually landing in Incheon airport and watching you hop like a child—he thought maybe your earlier distance was just a phase.

Until, of course, you suggested that you both do solo trips.

To which Sae had been mostly deadpan, but not because he didn’t care—more like he was stumped. This was a honeymoon. For the both of you. Was this you trying to push him away? And if so, what for?

So Sae wasn’t going to let that get in the way. He didn’t outright reject your idea. But he could go along with it. You could go wherever you wanted to go, and Sae would tag along behind you.

He wasn’t going to let you wander around solo when you were supposed to spend time enjoying this foreign place together. And Mirin was especially not going to be able to guilt trip him into entertaining her while he was there by using their old plans against him.

When he tried to be her friend and texted her back with actual words for once, Mirin had somehow steered the entire conversation into dangerous territory; like how Mirin had once told Sae she wanted to visit Korea with him someday and that she asked if it was too much to still want to go.

Of course, he had said Oliver would be more than happy to take her there (to which she had sent a sad face that he happily ignored). Still, it sucked when he was trying to find a balance between being a friend and learning to be a good husband.

So there he was, following you around shamelessly even though he knew you kept looking behind to make sure that he was, in fact, actually following you. Sometimes it was hard to keep his snicker in. You looked half in shock yet half relieved.

It was more enjoyable with you than he thought it would be. He had absolutely zero expectations, especially when he had heard so much about knowing people’s true nature once you go on a trip with them—but you were more than fine.

Sae was starting to silently thank his parents for forcing you together. He got to see your smiles way up close, and it was nice to keep you close to him, and he liked the way you smelled that he memorised your perfume when you went in to that makeup store earlier.

That was why when night came and the both of you got back to the hotel, Sae had been more than a little regretful that he had asked the staff to prepare an extra mattress. Was it bad he wanted to sleep with you?

In the end, he only shook his head and vanquished the question from his head. He didn’t want to risk making you too uncomfortable.

“It’s nothing, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Sae.”

And he watched as you walked away, wondering if your disappointment was all in his head.

The next few days of the honeymoon went well—until a flurry of notifications popped up while the two of you were playing on his phone; Oliver’s personal important ones mixed with Mirin’s loud ones in the group chat. He didn’t give one shit about the latter, but Oliver’s is what he couldn’t let you see. Not yet, anyway, when it was just based on a hunch.

“Hey Oliver, what is it?”

“They’re definitely fishy, my guy said they’d been moving money around, no idea where though.”

Sae spent that entire evening theorising with Oliver on what it could be—and by the time he came back in, you’d passed out in your bed, probably exhausted from walking too much that day. Somehow, it felt rewarding to be able to tuck you in, and maybe it was greedy but he kissed you lightly on the forehead before he shut the lights.

Yeah, he’d definitely protect you, no matter what.

But there was something he couldn’t understand somehow, when he thought everything was going fine—why were you distancing yourself again?

The last few days of the trip felt wrong, and especially the last night when he could hear you sniffling through the door. It worried him more than he was when it was Mirin, and if that wasn’t enough proof to himself that you were slowly becoming irreplaceable in his life then he didn’t know what was.

That was why he gave in and called the only person he knew who could help—Reo. No matter how much he didn’t want to admit it, after being your best friend your whole life, he would probably know best. Sustaining his own ego came last to him when it involved you.

“You better not have done something wrong to Y/N or I swear to god—”

“Hello to you too, Reo.”

Reo sighed, and Sae didn’t blame his hostile tone. You probably confided in him for everything and Sae was undoubtedly one of those things.

“So? What is it?” The purple-haired one’s reluctance to speak to Sae showed, and Sae had to swallow every bit of pride down because he had to ask.

Turned out, Reo was more than willing to share. Only because it was for you, he said. And Sae suddenly felt like an ass for feeling a pang of jealousy. Reo knew you in certain emotionally intimate ways that Sae had yet to learn; he knew what you wanted people to do when you were in different moods, he knew how you wanted to be treated.

That was why Sae couldn’t help himself.

“Reo, are you in love with Y/N?” Sae chose your name instead of calling you his wife—there was a part of him that felt possessiveness in this sense would make him sound like more of a douche than he already seemed to be.

“Relax, I’m not gonna steal her from you or anything,” he laughed, although Sae noted he didn’t answer the question. “But… just letting you know, she has a ton of other options.”

After Reo hung up, Sae stared at the open chat thread on his screen. A picture of you and Reo, making it seem like the two of you were kissing, sent to Sae from an anonymous number. More than questionable, and Sae had tiny specks of doubt before now—wasn’t it natural to be sceptical in situations like these? But now he knew it was stupid. It was stupid because if not Reo, then he should know you enough to trust you wouldn’t do such a thing.

Same as Sae.

Maybe there were things you weren’t ready to tell each other, but now you had the rest of your lives to do so. Sae sure as hell wanted to keep you for that long at the least. So that night he found himself promising you that he would stay, because it was the honest truth. He would stick by you no matter what. After all, he fell in love with you before he even knew it.

And maybe one day, he’ll have the guts to say it.

Just when Sae thought he had had enough troubles for a while, what with your parents showing him their true colours (whether you caught on to it or not)—life threw him another curveball. One in the form of his old flame, casually showing up at his doorstep even though he never once told her the address.

“Mirin? What are you doing here?”

And she was wearing that same old face of hers, the sad one, the one that looked like she was just seconds away from breaking. Normally Sae would entertain her like he did that one night, for old times’ sake, but he was beginning to feel bad intentions and this—his ex-girlfriend being in the house you two shared—was definitely something you would object to.

Instead of waiting for an invitation like a normal person, she barged in past Sae, helping herself to a seat by the island, head in her hands.

“I didn’t know where else to go, it’s just been getting worse,” Mirin was sniffling at that point, and Sae knew he was going to feel like a total ass, but he had to do what he had to do. She had mistaken his question as one of concern.

“I actually got an errand to run, so,” Sae lied through his teeth, dressed in a random oversized white tee and black shorts, though that didn’t stop him. He was genuinely sick and frankly, he was growing sick and tired of having to deal with someone who didn’t respect boundaries.

“Huh?”

“I gotta leave in a minute,” he muttered, going into the bedroom to grab a coat and his keys, slipping on his shoes afterwards at the entrance before turning to look up at Mirin. “Do… you wanna stay in here alone?”

Stumped, Mirin took a few seconds to form a proper response. “Um, no no, how about I run that errand with you? Two is better than one, right?” She was still smiling brightly, almost oblivious to Sae’s attitude.

Two was definitely not better than one, especially since all Sae intended to do was to drive around the block and come back when she was gone.

“Nah, it’s a personal matter, and I’m already late,” he said, sauntering out the front door, Mirin barely trailing behind before the door closed.

Once they were in the lift, Sae caught Mirin sidling up next to him, and he had to exaggerate his coughing just to get her to distance herself. As the icing on top of the cake, he turned on his phone screen just to let her see the wallpaper he put of the both of you back in Korea, that picture where the both of you dressed up in front of the palace. Just to make sure she knew where his head was at.

“Need me to call you a cab home?” He asked, because he would—anything to get her out of here because Sae just didn’t want to give her any space in his life right now.

Of course, Sae knew Mirin well enough to know she was probably seething inside because she came all this way for nothing, but she masked it with a smile. “No it’s fine, I’ll help myself.”

True to her word, she did. Sae watched the cab turn down the other side of the road through his side mirror, and he was relieved more than anything. To think, just months ago he would’ve given anything to have her back in his life.

In the cab, Mirin’s tears weren’t those of upset, but more towards those of contempt. Just what kind of a spell did you have Sae under that he would treat her, the love of his life, so cruelly? To her, you could never be perfect, not for Sae. Because it was her. He told her so, once upon a time. In fact, how dare you get the dream honeymoon with Sae that she always wanted?

And even though she didn’t get much time with him today (because of course he was still acting up), she smiled to herself as she scrolled through her photos. She got what she came for, at least. A few pictures she took, both before and when Sae came out of the room.

Swiftly, Mirin went to her profile and posted a story—anything that seemed suspect enough would be fine. All she needed was a little luck and for the universe to propel you to look at her profile. Creating misunderstandings would just be the building block of you and Sae’s downfall, and then everything else would be easy peasy. Sae wouldn’t even stop her anyway—he unfollowed her a while ago. Whatever.

Yeah, everything would go her way just like it always did. Making Sae pine for her for so long couldn’t possibly be erased by someone such as yourself. Besides, if all else failed, Mirin already found out what she needed to about your family. If all else failed, she’d make sure to take you down.

Was it all in his head?

You seemed a little more inquisitive than usual, and it looked like you were biting your tongue. Did you have something to say that you were afraid to?

“You can tell me anything if you ever need to, okay?” It was more to assure you that nothing you could ask him would ever be too much or too invasive because he honestly didn’t know what it could be—but you didn’t take it.

Was it a sensitive subject?

The entire time you were gone, he spent his time at home ignoring Oliver’s calls and mulling over the decision in his head; the decision to tell you everything that was going on with Mirin. It was getting too much, and he couldn’t tell what was going on in her head anymore—it was like he never knew her.

And… he owed you that, at the very least. You had been nothing but an angel to him, and you’d never been petty or vindictive and you were perfect. Just perfect.

Despite being surrounded by people like Oliver and Otoya who wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about it if they were in his shoes, and being brought up by people who lacked any sort of love for either of their sons, Sae knew that he had to tell you before it was too late. Before Mirin started sinking her claws into you and drove you crazy—being how she was right now, he wouldn’t put it past her to do that. Call it a gut feeling.

If she could just show up wherever she wanted impulsively, plus the amount of information she could get her hands on thanks to her father’s contacts, who knew what else she could do?

But speak of the devil and it shall show up at your door, because minutes later, instead of opening the door to your beautiful face and warm smile, Sae got only a sinister feeling.

“What do you want?”

This time, he didn’t bother hiding his disdain for seeing her anymore. She had been proving time and time again that she was only out for herself, and that was not the person Sae once loved.

She may as well be a stranger now.

Her frown lined her features, the furrow of her brows more defined than ever. Her expression was halfway between disbelief and upset. “Are you really going to treat me this way, Sae?”

“I thought we could still be friends, and that was stupid of me,” Sae said, being openly honest with her for once. “But we can’t.”

With her hand on the door as he tried to close it on her, Mirin was determined to keep it open. She wasn’t about to come all the way here for nothing again. Besides, she’d been posting conspicuously for days—surely now was a good time as ever to drive the wedge deeper between the two of you?

“Why? Because your petty wife won’t let us?”

Sae had never had to force his voice down as much as he had to right now. “Don’t you… ever say anything against her.” He turned on his heels, ready to get his coat and force her out of there until he heard the familiar clack of her heels storming in after him.

“You’re not seriously choosing that second-rate over me?” She spat, fists clenched at her sides, her purse thrown on the floor.

Silence was all he could give her because nothing that would come out of his mouth would be merciful. You were the most innocent of all and yet your name was getting dragged through the mud just because Mirin couldn’t wake up and realise that she was the only reason they drifted in the first place.

“Get out.” Soft. Simple. There was nothing else Sae had to say to her.

Mirin shook her head, adamant on seeing this conversation through to the end. She wasn’t going to leave until she got what she wanted. “You’ve seriously got a screw loose if you’re choosing that cheating whore over me.”

Sae’s head whipped over to glare at her, his self-control coming in extra handy tonight. He narrowed his gaze, the realisation dawning upon him.

“You were the one who sent that picture of her with Reo, weren’t you?” A redundant question; he didn’t need her to answer.

Judging by the triumphant smirk on her face, she didn’t need to say a thing. “Oh, I have a lot more where that came from,” she chuckled, sounding a lot like a villain out of a fairytale. Slowly, she inched closer to him, “come on, if she can have her fun, we can have ours, can’t we?”

Lunging forward, her lips connected with his as she caught him off guard, her arms wrapped around his neck, taking him a few seconds to pry off. Sae wasn’t even spared a second before she tried again, but he swerved this time, and she could only scoff.

“Are you fucking nuts?”

“I’d be careful with how you speak to me if I were you,” she threatened, and Sae was about to offer a rebuttal until she took her purse and shoved some documents in his hand. “This is what you had Oliver investigate, right?”

Sae swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked over them. It wasn’t what he asked of Oliver. This was way more in depth and way more messy than Sae had thought it was. There must’ve been an ongoing investigation that he wasn’t aware of. Either way, how did she—

“It was easy enough to steal it from him,” Mirin mused, straightening up. “It wasn’t his fault, I nicked it while he was asleep.”

Sae didn’t even want to think about the context of that situation. What was even more perplexing was how proud she sounded of it.

Taking a deep breath, he collected himself, making sure to hold onto the documents. Mirin grinned slightly, realising his intentions. “Don’t worry, I made sure to make copies,” she told him, winking.

“What do you want?”

“To talk. About everything. Or else I call for an official investigation into that.”

On one side, Sae felt that everything that had to be said was already said and done. On the other, Mirin wanted so desperately to hold onto the only thing she had been sure of at one point in her life that nothing was going to stop her.

It wasn’t like he had a choice—there was no way he was going to let her storm through your life like that. If there was a chance he could talk some sense into her, he had to try.

“Fine, give me a minute.”

Retreating to the bathroom to wash his face and get her damned lipstick stain off—something he no doubt would have to tell you about later because this has blown way out of proportion—he was almost done until he heard Mirin introducing herself and his heart sank.

Fuck, were you back already?

It wasn’t hard to tell you were completely taken aback by Mirin’s presence in the house. And if Sae had his way, he would tell you everything right here and right now but with the knowledge she held over your family, he wasn’t sure it was a wise idea to tip her over the edge right now. Her threat still loomed over him.

Sae hated how she could take advantage of the situation and just make it seem even more suspicious—just how long had she been at this? He really should’ve just warned you about Mirin a long time ago.

“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know, Sae. Can I?” For the first time, there was nothing but crisp coldness in your voice.

It stays with him even after he leaves, even when he follows Mirin to the bridge overlooking the waterfront. He’s decided; after tonight, there will not be any ties between him or Mirin, not after he actually witnessed how toxic she could get.

“This is far enough,” Sae tells her, stopping himself right before the row of shophouses that line the underside of the bridge. “What do you want from me?”

Mirin chuckles helplessly, caught between knowing everything she’s doing is futile and wanting to try anyway. “Are you kidding me, Sae?” The tears are already streaming down her face, and Sae is mostly just in awe of how quick she can go from menacing to heartbroken. “What do you think?”

He’s more than aware that there are a lot of unresolved things between the two of them—but that doesn’t change the fact that what Mirin wants, he can’t provide her with anymore. His silence is indicative enough that she can’t get her way no matter what she does. But in the face of someone she’s wanted her whole life, in the face of the only person she’s ever truly been genuine with in this lifetime, she finds that she can’t just accept that.

“You can’t tell me that I mean nothing to you,” Mirin murmurs, and it’s so quiet that Sae wonders if he was even meant to hear it.

On a normal day, Sae would feel sorry for her. They used to be a pair of lovebirds who planned out nearly their whole life together a long time ago. But she lost that right, she lost his sympathy the moment she started being exactly like her mother and trying to tamper with your life.

But maybe his hostility wasn’t a good way to deal with her, looking at all the backlash she’s caused, so Sae tries a different approach this time, even if he’s not particularly in the mood to be nice to her after all the trouble she’s caused.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” It’s partly true. Even if he didn’t do anything in particular, he imagines it must’ve been a shock to her when she came back to Japan and the guy who had claimed to want to wait for her had suddenly been married off. (But he wasn’t sorry for throwing her invitation away—to a certain extent, he felt that you didn’t deserve your future husband having such a distraction in the crowd. At the time.)

“Sae, I know you still love me, I know we can work this out, okay? Just give it a shot. Leave her and we can—”

“I can’t do that,” Sae cuts in, sighing because this is the few times in his life that his inability to express himself has led to inconveniences of this magnitude.

“Why? Whatever she or your parents have on you I’ll—”

“No, Mirin, I can’t because I love her,” Sae says, looking Mirin in the eyes and breaking her heart all over again. But he’d do anything for you, and right now all he wants is to go back to you. He wants to be with you and hear your cute laugh and tease you because you’re all he can ever think about nowadays. “I’m sorry but… I love my wife, and I’m not going to leave her, or let anything happen to her.”

Maybe it’s the absolute vulnerability that she can hear in his voice that makes her believe it. Sae doesn’t say things like that so easily, and maybe it’s the way she can see his eyes tearing up that she can tell it’s genuine no matter how much she doesn’t want it to be. He’s worried and in love and feeling overwhelmed. But Mirin’s not in the right state of mind and she fights back instead of admitting defeat.

“What about promising you’d wait for me, huh? What happened to that?”

By now, Mirin’s airing all her grievances, and Sae understands that enough to let it slide.

“I did, but we grew apart, didn’t we? You dated other guys, refused to try with me while I was still…” He avoids saying it.

“All the things we said we’d do together once we could finally have time to ourselves! Travelling, raising pets, picking out a house and going furniture shopping together, building a family because ours sucked,” she’s sobbing and Sae has to ignore the stares they’re getting from the few people that pass by.

“I still want that—”

“Then why—”

“With my wife.” He emphasises on this, and he’ll repeat it as many times as he needs to. “With Y/N. Her, and no one else.”

It’s his absolute indifference towards Mirin that jars her, because in this world, he was the only one she could count on, and now even that was gone. And right now, all she feels is hatred for you, for the one who stole him from right under her nose.

“Even if I tell you I’ll raze her whole family to the ground?” Mirin threatens with a scowl, igniting the combativeness inside of him.

Sae scoffs, shaking his head in disappointment. Nothing is going to get through to her. Not like this. He stuffs his hands in his pocket, “you can try, but I’ll be right there defending her with everything I got.”

Those teal eyes that used to look at her softly than they had anything else, his soft locks that she could once twirl her fingers through—they now belonged to you. They belong to you and they’re slipping away from her as Sae deigns to say any sort of goodbye, instead just walking off in silence as he tries to get back to you.

Ignoring Mirin’s cries of his name and the threats she’s hurling, he tries to call your phone but you’re not picking up—and that’s enough to make him run.

You’re not in the apartment, and some of your things are gone and since when did he even start to take notice of small little things like your favourite face towel that hangs on the side of the sink or your trusty furry headband that you liked to use hung beside the mirror? Those small little things are missing and for once, Sae’s afraid.

“Come on, pick up pick up,” Sae mutters under his breath as he drives around the neighbourhood, hoping he’d catch you somewhere. He ignores the string of calls he gets from Karasu, only to call him back when he gets a text: oi, pick up, idiot. your wife just booked a room here, you guys ok?

Thank god for coincidences like this or else Sae would’ve spent the entire time you were away wallowing in agony (silently).

It’s easy enough to find you after that, his feet running the most it has in a while—his ankles hurt and his knees feel weak, especially where they’re injured, but you’re worth every injury he has to make. And his heart does somersaults when he finally lays eyes on you, but then it plummets to the ground when he hears the word divorce.

Minutes later you’re running away from him, and he chases after you again—he’ll chase you however long he has to because this is all one big misunderstanding and he has to clear it up because he needs you in his life. Right now and forever. Just like he vowed to you on your wedding day.

The entire night has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and it was naive of Sae to think it was done because the next thing he knows, he sees Mirin throw a half-empty cup of yoghurt at you (along with her vile insults), and your face is absolutely dazed.

Shit. This is all his fault and he’s really, really sorry to you.

WHERE WE LEFT OFF

The walk back to your hotel suite is deafeningly silent.

Subtle lavender fills your noses as you enter the hotel lobby, though you can’t get the smell of greek yoghurt out of your nostrils.

You wonder where Karasu took Mirin to.

Not that you care about her. You just want to make sure you don’t see her. If you do, you might actually slap her.

You’re not sure if you want to try and fight her lawyers. Not sure if you want to give her reason to lord over you. At least, not as much as she did you.

When you enter the lift, you realise that Sae’s been unrelentingly close to you. His arms always brush against yours because he won’t leave so much as a gap between the two of you. Like he wants to catch you if you run.

Not in the creepy way, though. Not to you.

His hair is still slightly matted to his face; must’ve been the result of chasing after you. You’re a little perplexed, and you’re a little strict with yourself—you can’t back down later when you’re questioning him, and you have to remind yourself of this.

Because this marriage isn’t surviving another day if you don’t understand their… relationship.

Surely you’re not just being completely illiterate, right?

From what you’d been told, Sae and Mirin were each other’s first loves. That isn’t what you’re pressed about though, because he could so easily think the same about you and Reo, if the roles were reversed. What you are still pressed about is whether Sae’s intentions still hold true: is he still waiting for her? For the right time to be with her?

His earlier confession still repeats itself in your head. It could just as easily be a complete lie. You don’t want to hold onto it for fear of being disappointed.

Sae had been waiting for Mirin before the arranged marriage thwarted his plans. He had refused to give you any sort of acknowledgement as his actual wife until, well, your honeymoon, you guess. And even then, you still saw Mirin talking to him. Even then, he had to make suspicious calls in the night.

The worst part is when you saw her happily posting in your house. In the apartment where it’s supposed to be for you and your husband yet your husband and his former lover were in there when you were out working.

The moment you enter the suite, you toss his coat on top of one of the chairs and retreat to the bathroom, more than eager to change out of your Mirin-stained clothes.

Your husband’s waiting awkwardly outside the bathroom door by the time you get out, hands in his pockets, sheepishly averting his gaze as though he has the right to be the one acting nervous right now.

He takes a seat beside you on the bed, although you want nothing more than to just have time to yourself right now. On Sae’s part, he’s usually an advocate for this. He would’ve let you be alone any other time but right now. Because he feels that if he lets you, he’d lose you.

And this is selfishness in a way he hasn’t experienced and he doesn’t know why but he knows that he needs you with him.

“How many times?”

Sae finds himself stumped at your question. Your voice is quivering, but you’re trying to stand your ground. “Of what?”

For a change, you’re the one with the firm, demanding voice and he’s the one sounding meek. But for all your hostility, you still let him hold your hand. It makes Sae want to hold onto hope.

“How many times have you cheated on me?”

“What?”

He’s anticipated many things from you, many questions about his history and why you saw him the way you did earlier that night, but consider him stumped when he heard the words fly out of your mouth.

Cheating?

Have you been in agony over such a question all this time?

And suddenly he feels an overwhelming amount of guilt wash over him. Sure, he’s known that he would be bad at these things, at communicating when it’s not a sport, at understanding your feelings, at being a damn husband in a marriage that he initially loathed. But he didn’t know it would be this bad, that he would’ve made you feel this insecure.

Right now, you’re seething, and rightfully so because he must’ve done so many things wrong to make you think that way, to make you feel so sure of it too.

You’re still waiting for an answer, fists clenched at your side, the familiar mirth in your expression that Sae’s grown used to is tucked away safely in a place you don’t want him to reach.

“Well? Tell me, because I don’t want a marriage where I’m constantly a second choice. How many times have you—”

“I didn’t, I swear.”

The words come out of him in a hurry; there’s a flurry of emotions inside him, mainly one of fear—since when did he become afraid to lose you? It wasn’t something he was consciously aware of and yet it’s surfacing right now. He doesn’t want you to think that way anymore, that he’d do anything behind your back that would far disgrace your status as his wife.

It takes you a while to collect your thoughts, because Sae can see your shoulders relaxing, your fists unclenching. Your brows are furrowed, and he knows it’s because you’re afraid to just trust him. With good reason.

“How can I believe that?”

Your voice has lost its earlier edge, and now all that remains is the fragments of your hope—hope that somehow you can make it through this. Together.

Sae takes a step forward, daring to pull you into his arms, his mind filled with just you you you. Like it has been for a bulk of the time recently.

“I’ll tell you what you wanna know, anything.” He’s aware it doesn’t come close to the damages done, but he’ll try. He’ll try for the rest of his life if he has to.

“Everything. Tell me everything.”

And everything it was.

Sae answered everything you wanted him to, no holds barred. Mostly it was everything about Mirin, because that’s what’s been bugging you the most. And it was a lot. Somehow, you believe him, every single word.

He was stupid for keeping it to himself, yes. But you kept Reo and that picture to yourself too, and maybe you can understand why he had initially been afraid to say anything.

You’re both sitting on the bed, facing each other, Sae’s voice nearly cracking from all the talking he’s been doing. His hand slowly reaches out to yours, the tension in his shoulders letting go when your fingers grasp onto his. Can he take that to mean you don’t completely hate him?

“I’m really, really sorry,” Sae says, softly, gazing at the mattress because he still doesn’t even know if he deserves your acceptance. “I really do love you, Y/N, and I don’t want a…” divorce.

Is it because you’re too nice that you already want to forgive him? It’s all just a domino effect that got way too big. Still, you can’t make this a habit, so you stand your ground.

“I just… I want this to be a marriage where we can be open and completely honest with one another,” you say, lost in your thoughts, knowing that you’re not completely innocent yourself, and ashamed even more to know that Sae had known about the misleading picture of you and Reo all along yet choosing to trust you wholeheartedly anyway. “But I think there’s a lot of work we both need to do.”

Sae takes it hopefully. “Then we’ll do it, together,” he tells you, and it’s hard not to smile at how genuine he’s being.

But before either of you can say much else, there’s a quiet knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Sae offers, walking to the door and sighing once he looks through the peephole. He’s ready to ignore until the knocks come again. Opening the door, he sees a slightly timid Mirin. “We don’t have anything else to say to each other.”

Mirin doesn’t even look at him, just gazes past him at nothing. “I didn’t come to talk to you,” she says, before her gaze lands on you. “I came here to talk to her.”

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eddiesxangel · 6 months

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buy me presents | Santa!Eddie x Reader

Summary: your ex seems to be popping back into your life at the most inconvenient times, and your new boyfriend isn’t so jolly about the whole thing.

words: 2.3k

CW: Eddie is mall Santa; Eddie is possessive and protective over reader. Reader has ex-boyfriend who cheated and who makes unwanted advances. Smut, breeding kink, Christmas dirty talk. Reader and Eddie are in their 20's, but Eddie is a few years older. MDNI 18+ only

December 15th

Back at the mall, unaccompanied by your nephew Christopher, you were holiday shopping for your friends and family. The mall was packed; there are only ten days left until Christmas, and it seemed like everyone and their mother were out. The one good thing about being here is that you knew your boyfriend would be working today, and you hoped to catch him on his lunch break. You'd seen many familiar faces but had no time to stop for pleasantries; you were overwhelmed by the busy mall's commotion and noise, and you wanted to get your stuff, see Eddie and get out.

You'd been on seven dates since you first met Eddie two weeks ago. He had asked you to be his girlfriend on your last date two days ago. Were you moving fast? Maybe, but you were so into him. Your previous boyfriend, Kevin, was a total jerk and hadn't done half the things Eddie had done for you in the past two weeks in the two and a half years you were together.

You'd broken up with him three months ago when you found out he had been fooling around with Katrina, his "coworker," behind your back. He thought he was hot shit because he had Daddy's credit card, and he got him a swanky office job. It's too bad he wasn't actually doing any work and spending all his time and Daddy's money on the pretty pencil skirt during working hours.

"Well, well, well, look who it is" A shiver fell down your spine as you were knocked out of your own thoughts. You were looking at a window display in the middle of the mall where the Santa display was waiting for your boyfriend Eddie.

"Oh, it's you." You deadpan seeing Kevin and his friends approach you.

"What have we got here?" Kevin reaches down to the bag labelled Vctoria's Secret and grabs it from your hands. As he reaches inside and pulls out the lingerie you had bought to surprise Eddie, your blood boils. You're eyes are threatening to fill with tears as Kiven then asks if this is what you were planning on wearing to get him back.

Eddie could see you waiting for him; he signalled to you that he had five more minutes until his break. You gave him a smile and a thumbs up and turned to the window display behind you. Eddie's focus went back to the child approaching him.

"Leave me alone Kevin!" Eddie's head snapped from the child in his lap and filled the sound of your voice.

He saw a tall blonde guy talking to you with a bunch of what he assumed to be the guy's friends surrounding you.

"Come on, baby, you know you miss me." He went to grab your arm, and you flinched away. Eddie was seeing red. Who the fuck was this guy, and why was he touching his girl?

Eddie jumped up after the last child in line left, and he beelined to you, not caring. He was still dressed as the jolly head elf.

"What do you think you're doing?" You jumped at the sound of Eddie's voice coming from behind you. You turn to see your boyfriend looking meaner than usual when he is dressed up as Santa Claus.

"Oh, good you're here," You say to Eddie, taking his hand before turning to Kevin. "I'd love to stay and chat, but we have to go."

A burst of laughter falls from Kevin and his douchebag friends. "OH, don't tell me you're banging fatso." He laughed, poking Eddi's fake belly. "Fuck, who knew you were so kinky? Why are you holding out on me, baby?"

"You wanna say that again, pretty boy?" Eddie threatened. How dare he speak to you like that. Who the fuck even is this guy.

"Eddie baby, let's just go." You pleaded, pulling his arm, not wanting to make a bigger scene.

"No, babe, who the fuck is this guy? And why does he think he can talk to you that way? " You saw the look of concern in his eyes. He truly cared for you. It was a look you never saw Kevin I've you, not once in the two and a half years you were together.

"I'm her boyfriend," Kevin puffed out his chest.

"Ex-boyfriend," You corrected right away.

"Oh come on baby, stop playing this game, I know you want me." he went to reach for you again, but Eddie stepped in front of him. Eddie towered over him even though Kevin was tall, Eddie was taller.

"You touch my girl again, and that pretty boy face of yours isn't going to look so pretty," Eddie growled through his white synthetic beard.

Eddie tried his best to look intimidating; however, his cutie rosy nose and cheeks were not helping.

"We got a problem here?" the mall security guard butted in just as Kevin was getting into Eddie's face. You sighed a breath of relief that this was finally ending.

"No problem, officer, we were just leaving," Kevin replies smugly. "See you around, baby." He smirks and your stomach churns.

" You're getting coal in your stocking, young man!" Eddie replies as he realizes all the kids are watching him, and he is still, in fact, dressed as Kris Kringle.

December 18th

You were at the local coffee shop in your regular booth waiting for Eddie to come out of the bathroom.

"Surprise, surprise, fancy seeing you here, baby." Your skin crawled as the voice of the one and only ex-boyfriend filled your ears.

"Don't call me that, I broke up with you ." you grit through your teeth.

"Come on, baby," He slid into your side of the booth, blocking you in with no way out. "I know you want me." you cringed back as Kevin's unwanted hand came tracing up your arm and across your chest, groping you before he was jerked backwards by the hood of his jacket. landing on his ass.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eddie, your Eddie came barling out of the bathroom to see you in distress because of the fucker from the mall.

"Who the fuck are you?" Kevin scremed. His eyes went wide when he examined Eddie. He looked scary; he was all combat boots, leather and heavy metal, while Kevin was all polo shirts, country clubs and Sperry's.

You watched with wide eyes as Eddie picked up Kevin off of the floor, "I told you last time, you lay a finger on my girl one more time; I was going to fuck up that prettyboy face." Eddie growled.

"Santa?" Kevin's lip quivered before Eddie pushed him out the door.

Your coffee was long forgotten as you scrambled to get your purse and chase after Eddie. The last thing you need is Kevin pressing charges.

Just before Eddie was about to knock the shit out of your ex, you yelled out to him, breaking Eddie's trace. He had totally forgotten you were there, watching him.

"Baby, please let's just go," You gently grab his raised fist and open his hand to interlock your fingers with his. Eddie was still snarling with his other hand still wrapped up in the collar of your ex's shirt, pressing him up against the brick wall. The fear in Kevin's eyes was pathetic; you knew he had never gotten into a fistfight a day in his life.

"Please," You begged. As you turned Eddie's face from Kevin's to yours, the anger from his face slipped away once he saw your pleading eyes.

"You're lucky, pretty boy." Eddie gave him one last shove before wrapping a protective arm around you and turning you to the car.

"Thank you, baby." You kiss Eddie's cheek as he opens the car door for you.

"You don't have to thank me, Sugarplum." He brushes it off as no big deal. It was a big deal. He was your protector. Your knight in shining armour. And you knew just the thing to do to thank him.

"Baby, I have a surprise for you when we get back to mine... You can come in for a little while, yeah?" You were going to wait for Christmas but you thought he deserved his gift a little early.

Seeing Eddie so worked up and protective over you was such a big turn-on that you sprinted to your apartment because you couldn’t wait to give Eddie his gift. You told Eddie to wait outside the bedroom door and not to come in until you said so.

You pulled out the Christmas theme lingerie from your drawer. You washed it after Kevin's grubby fingers were on it. You stripped as quick as possible and stepped into the sexy little outfit. You were wrapped up like a Christmas present as a big silky red bow was tied around your chest that pushed your boobs up just right. You paired it with a matching silk thong that has a smaller bow on the back just above your ass. You had sheer red thigh-high stockings and these cute little red reindeer antlers that you clipped onto your head.

Eddie was bouncing on his heels the whole time you were in the room getting ready he had no idea what he was walking into.

"Baby, come in," You cooed, and his jaw hit the floor as he opened the door.

There you were wrapped up for him like a perfect little present.

"Fuck baby when did you get this" He reached out to examine the outfit.

"When I was at the mall, Santa needed a gift, too, you know?." You bit your lip.

You felt Eddie grope your ass as he landed in to take your mouth in his. He kissed you deep and smooth as he pushed you gently onto the bed.

"Fuck I'm so glad you dropped that douchebag." He hummed into your mouth before his kissed and sucked down your neck.

"Let's not talk about him." You hummed back. "How about we focus on you unwrapping me." You arched your back so that your breasts could graze Eddie's chest.

"Fuck, don't have to tell me twice." Eddie pulled apart the bow that was holding you together.

"You're my perfect little present, aren't you?" Eddie praised before he latched his mouth on your exposed nipple. He nipped and licked and sucked until you cried out with pleasure. He knew your body like no other man before him.

Eddie trailed a finger down your sternum right to the waistline of your panties. "What am I going to find if I fully unwrap you? Am I going to find a toy? Is that it? You're going to be my little fuck toy for the evening?" He circled a single digit around your clothed mound, teasing you.

"Yes," You sighed.

"Fuuuuuuck baby, then what am I waitin' for?" He flipped you over so you were on all fours. You arched your ass out so Eddie got the perfect view of the little bow perched right above your little hole. Eddie let out a groan of pleasure at the sight in front of him. He didn't know about the little bow on your panties, and he swore, right then and there, he would marry you. "I swear you're trying to kill me, Sugarplum." You giggled as he gripped each of our cheeks in both hands, and he spread you apart to get a better look.

"Shit baby you're already soaked through your panties." He sighed before leaning in to lap and you're clothed cunt.

"Oh god!" You cried out as Eddie's warm mouth consumed your heat. Eddie's hands massaged the thick muscle of your ass as he continued to lick at the juices leaking from your panties.

"What are you waiting for, baby? Unwrap me." You look back at him from over your shoulder, arching your back as far as you can.

Eddie peeled your panties off, pulling them down slowly. He was savouring and memorizing the sight of a string of your slick being pulled with your panties. He then turning to lay under you so your cunt was hovering over your face. "Sit on my face," Edde instructed before pulling you down directly on him. His tongue worked its magic, and you saw stars. As he hummed into your pussy your body shook.

"Oh my god I’m gunna cum!" You scream. You could feel Eddie smirk against your pussy; he was so smug he could have you coming on his face in two minutes flat. "That's it, baby girl, need you nice and wet so I can fuck this pussy right." Eddie's mouth never failed to make you wet; whether it was his words or his tongue, he always could make you soak your panties.

After your first orgasm washed over you Eddie slid from under you and propped himself up on the pillows. You followed him as you straddled his waist.

"You wanna be my little toy tonight? Gunna use this pussy like my own little fleshlight." Eddie aligned his cock with your entrance and pulled your hips down onto his cock, splitting you open.

“Fuck baby, you gunna cream my cock? That’s what you’re made for right? Designed to be my dirty little toy, hmm” he bounced you up and down in his cock. His cock hit that spot inside of you that made you feel snowflakes in your lower tummy.

“Yes-yesss, only for you” you panted as your muscles in your legs started to burn. You held yourself up by gripping Eddie’s shoulders. He kissed and panted into your mouth. It was messy, it was hot. The feeling of his cock brushing your inner walls made your eyes roll back in your head.

“Fucking me so good” you cried as your second orgasm snuck up on you.

“You love being my little fuck toy don’t you?” Your pussy clamped itself around Eddie at his words, also making him cum instantly.

“Fuck you milk this cock so good. Gunna fill you till you’re leaking me for days.”

“God you fuck me so good” you giggle resting your forehead against his.

“Best Christmas gift ever” Eddie panted before he flipped you over for another round.

Reposted 🎅🏻

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson #eddie fanfiction #Eddie x you #Eddie smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #Spotify

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that-one-banger-of-a-rhcp-song · 1 year

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A Rodrick x reader where they're friends with benefits and aren't aware of each others feelings towards the other util reader gets asked out by someone from their school :]

i started this one earlier and then the draft got deleted (this is why you dont take grilled cheese brakes kids) Thank you so much for the request, i have never written fwb before so i hope i meet your expectations :) (p.s. im a sucker for hand/knuckle kisses and it shows) lets just say greg and rowley weren't there for the party.

"Dammit Rodrick," you chuckled slightly, sitting on a desk.

"What?" The raven haired boy started, "Don't like doing this anymore?" His hot breath tickled against your neck.

"It's not that," you muttered, "I just, don't feel like making out in an empty classroom five minutes before lunch ends."

"Oh, 'cause you are so above that," he retorted, going back to his assault on your neck and jawline.

"I'm turning over a new leaf!" You leaned back slightly, humming.

"Proud of yourself?" his hand relocated to your waist, the other supporting his weight.

"I would say I'm more proud of you,"

"Oh?"

"You haven't gotten a detention in two days!" at that, the boy laughed, and removed his head from the crook of your neck.

'God I love you!' he wanted to say, but you seemed content with your current status, and he got to make out with you whenever he wanted... so he was fine! Totally.

"Has that Micha kid been bothering you?" The so called 'Micha kid' had been trying to hit on you for months, and you were to nice to tell him you secretly hated him, but you were working on it (thanks to Rodrick)

"Kind of? He tries to talk to me a lot, but he's less persistent."

"Good" he smiled, patting your waist before kissing you again.

You pulled away after a moment, "We should probably get our stuff," you commented, pulling him out of his blissful state.

"uh, yeah!" god he was so awkward sometimes. He held out his hand for you to take, (which you did) and you slid off the desk.

"You're such a gentleman!" you mocked in a brittish accent

"Oh, I know, love," he carried on.

-----------

'party at my house -rodrick' The text had been sent four minutes ago on the dot. Your parents were out of town, so you could go without being caught. So you fucking did. You put on a white button-down, black skinny jeans that were torn to shreds, and You put your earbuds in and started walking the block to the Heffley household. Your mind shifted to your previous interaction. How concerned Rodrick was being, he did care about you. and some times it felt like he loved you. you felt as if you could only dream.

---

You knocked on the door, the music was so loud already.

"Y/NNNN!" Rodrick dragged your name out, he took your hand and kissed your knuckles, "You do know this is casual, right?"

"Yes."

"Alright then. Get in here!" he pulled you in the house, there were lights, MCR's 'na na na" was blasting at full volume, and there were high-schoolers making out in random corners, someone had started a fistfight, and it seemed like it was more Rodrick's element than yours, but that was ok. And then you saw him.

Micha.

The boy who looked at you like a Piece of meat.

you grabbed Rodrick's sleeve, "Micha's here," You said desperately. He noted your concern, and looked around for the boy, "Hey," he said, grasping your arms, "It's gonna be fine! if he starts bothering you, just come find me and we can make out or some shit!" He looked you in the eyes and smiled, trying his hardest to reasure you.

"Thanks Rodrick," you said hugging him.

"Of course!"

-------

Rodrick had decided to be social, so you just wandered around the house, looking at the people you knew, and those you didn't. When you heard that terribly familiar voice.

"Hey y/n!"

Well fuck. you turned around, and sent a glare that could kill toward the boy.

"How's the party?" Micha said.

The sound of his voice made you want to yell. "Good." you said, not looking at him.

"I haven't talked to you in a while,"

"I know." you kept your answers short and half assed. Hoping he would get the memo.

He didn't.

Lucky for you, Rodrick had pardoned himself from his buddies chit chat, to make sure you were alright.

An arm looped around your shoulders, "Hi," the boy said "Uh, Micheal, was it?"

"Micha."

"Oh, sorry meesha,"

"That isn't even close to my name."

"Cool" you were never really religious, but you took the time to thank god for Rodrick. "Now, Mickey, can you not tell that you're making y/n uncomfortable?"

"I figured they would tell me if-"

"Micha, I don't like you." you said, voice laced with anger, "I never fucking have."

The boy just looked at you sadly and nodded before walking away.

"Rodrick, thank-" you were cut off by a rather agressive and passionate kiss.

"Y/n I love you. It's okay if you don't love me back but seeing you that uncomfortable made me want to tell you."

you could only stand there shocked. "I- Rodrick I" you stuttered, "I love you too. I always have and I really want to thank you for keeping me close!"

Just hearing those words made his heart melt and his confidence boost dramatically.

"I know this is my party, but" He tried, "Wanna blow this place?"

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick imagines #doawk rodrick

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parkerslatte · 2 months

Text

Overlooked | Epilogue

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: minor injury of child. smut.

Summary: Nearly ten years after their wedding, Y/N and Eris spend time with their own small family.

Overlooked Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The sun was high in the sky and Y/N was wearing a thin dress, keeping as much heat from her body as possible. It was a lovely day and Y/N had forced her family out into the garden of their small cottage. Eris had moved himself and Y/N there not long after their wedding. Their room at the palace was beautiful but both Y/N and Eris wanted something that was wholly theirs. Despite being High Lord and High Lady of Autumn, they both wanted to separate their duties from their family.

Y/N walked across the vast grass area of their garden with a book in hand. She did not know where Eris and their children were. They disappeared a while ago and Y/N couldn’t even hear them. The large tree at the edge of their garden was surrounded by an array of flowers. Y/N smiled and settled herself down in front of the tree, resting her back against the bark.

Just as Y/N cracked open the spine to her book, loud shrieks of happiness were heard interrupting Y/N from her peaceful bubble. Y/N looked up just as her two children ran into her vision. Eris ran after them, a flower crown on top of his head. Y/N smiled fondly, already knowing that it was their daughter’s doing.

Eris chased their son and daughter around the garden before sweeping them both up into his arms, laughing at their giggles of delight. The love Y/N sent down the bond to Eris made him look up at her, a crooked smile on his face. Eris placed their two children back on the ground and they immediately began to run around the garden once again. Instead of Eris chasing after them, he walked directly to Y/N.

“Sporting a new look?” Y/N questioned, glancing at the flower crown on top of his head.

Eris smiled and sat down next to Y/N on the grass, pulling her body to his. He wore a simple white tunic and trousers, a lot more relaxed than Y/N had seen him in the previous weeks dealing with some difficult court officials.

“I was thinking of replacing my own crown with this one,” Eris said, kissing the top of Y/N’s head.

Y/N smiled. “It suits you.”

Eris scoffed. “Of course it does. It was made especially for me.”

As Eris shuffled against the tree, Y/N noticed him discreetly wipe the sweat from his forehead, breathing slightly heavy. Y/N smiled playfully. “How can you be tired after chasing your own children, Mister Former General of the Autumn Court?”

Eris rolled his eyes. “For starters, have you felt the heat? And secondly, those little monsters have too much energy then they know what to do with.”

“Your powers are literal fire? How can you find it warm?” she teased, “And you could have sat out,” Y/N replied, knowing that Eris would never deny his children anything.

When Y/N first told Eris she was pregnant with their first child, their daughter, six years ago, he had a lot of fears about being a father. Those fears stemmed from his father. Eris would stay up all night telling Y/N that he was going to end up just like him. And in those first few months, the more Eris began to distance himself from Y/N. It was the first time since they met that he did anything of the sort. But soon enough, Y/N managed to coax him out of his own head. She even enlisted the help of her sister, Feyre.

It had been a few years since their relationship had been repaired. When Y/N approached Feyre in asking for a favour, her youngest sister was more than happy to oblige. When Y/N returned to her home in the Autumn Court, her nephew and niece, who was just a year old, Eris had a lot to say.

“What is this, Y/N?” he asked.

“You have fears about becoming your father,” Y/N said, passing her niece to Eris. “Well, this is the perfect way to prove to you that you aren’t. Feyre and Rhysand are having a small holiday on the continent. She asked me to look after the kids.”

“She asked you, or you kidnapped them from their home. Doesn’t your other sister live in the Night Court?”

“Nesta and Cassian are busy with their own family,” Y/N answered. “And Elain is busy travelling with Lucien right now, so I was the last option.”

“Uncle Eris!” Nyx yelled and hugged him around the waist.

Nyx had always liked Eris, to Rhysand’s dismay, and was always excited to see him whenever he visited Autumn or he visited Night.

“Well, Mariana and I are going out for the day,” Y/N said and picked up her bag. “I will be back after dinner so don’t wait for me.”

“Wait!” Eris exclaimed. “Y/N–”

Y/N left him alone with the two children.

When Y/N returned that night, she found Eris asleep on the settee in their living room. Her niece asleep on his chest and Nyx sleeping soundly next to him. It was all the proof Y/N needed for him.

And it was all the proof Eris needed too, as after that night, everything seemed to change. He seemed to be more excited about having a child.

“I will never deny my children anything,” Eris said, capturing Y/N’s attention once more. “I don’t care if I spoil them.” Eris fondly watched his son and daughter play in the garden. “All I want to do is give them the childhood I never had.”

Y/N smiled and kissed his cheek. “You have already been doing that since they were born. They adore you, Eris.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Eris said, his gaze turning to her. “For giving me our children and proving to me that I am nothing like my father.”

“You don’t need to thank me for something you prove yourself everyday,” Y/N said and pecked his lips. “But you're welcome anyway. Because I know you will only keep insisting until I say it.”

Eris smiled and pressed his lips firmly against hers, his hand cupping her face. Y/N rested her hand on his chest and smiled into the kiss. Every single time she kissed Eris, she felt giddy and light. His kisses always had that effect on her and Y/N was afraid that one day that feeling would fade.

As Eris softly began to kiss across her jaw, loud cries were heard from their younger son. Eris and Y/N sprang apart and were up on their feet, running in the direction of the cries.

“Mummy, Daddy, Octavian fell and scraped his knee,” their daughter, Arella, said and clutched onto Y/N’a hand. Eris scooped his son into his arms and together the family walked back into the cottage.

“Is he going to be okay?” Arella asked, tears in her eyes.

Y/N bent down to match her height. “Of course he is, sweetheart. It is only a scratch and he will be running around again in no time.”

Arella was always a sensitive girl, with her own emotions and other people’s. If someone was hurting around her, so was she.

“Can I sit with him?” Arella asked.

“Of course,” Y/N said, holding onto her daughter’s hand.

Together they walked into the dining room. Octavian was sitting on the table while Eris cleaned away the cuts and scrapes on his knees.

“Ow!” Octavian exclaimed, flinching as Eris wiped at the injury.

“I’m sorry,” Eris muttered, distress evident in his voice. “It will be over in just a second, I promise.”

Arella stood next to Eris and Y/N lingered by the doorway, simply watching her family with a hand resting on her stomach. She was not sure how her heart was big enough for three people, but it needed to expand for a fourth many months down the line.

“All done,” Eris said and pressed a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

“I’m tired,” Octavian muttered.

“Me too,” Arella said.

Eris only nodded and picked Octavian up in his arms before bending down to lift Arella up too. Y/N smiled at the care Eris had in his movements. Both of their children were almost a perfect replica of him, the only exception being their eyes. Instead of inheriting Eris’s amber eyes, they both inherited Y/N’s colour. But everything else about them screamed Eris. To their red hair to the freckles scattered around their faces. Y/N couldn’t ask for more perfect children.

“Mummy, come with us,” Arella said.

“I was planning on it,” Y/N said and followed as Eris walked into Octavian’s room first, placing him gently down in the bed.

“Get some rest, okay?” Y/N said to her son, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

“Okay, Mummy,” Octavian said. “But more play after.”

Both Y/N and Eris chuckled quietly at their son, whose eyes were already beginning to droop. “More play after.”

Once Octavian’s breathing became heavier and he was asleep, Y/N and Eris both exited his bedroom and entered Arella’s. Who was already fast asleep with her head on Eris’s shoulder. Eris gently lowered her down onto the bed and tucked the thin blanket over her body. It was still quite warm and he didn’t want his daughter to overheat.

“How has she grown this big already?” Eris asked, looking down at Arella sleeping soundly. “Everything is going too fast.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around him from behind. “I know, I hate it. Even looking at Octavian, I think he is growing too fast. I swear he only began to walk yesterday.”

“Let’s go back to our room,” Eris whispered. “I am quite tired myself.”

The two entered their own bedroom, it was by no means grand. But it was cosy and just what they both wanted to get away from court for a while. Eris sat on the bed and pulled Y/N toward him until she straddled his hips. Before she could say anything, his lips were pressed against hers, continuing what they started in the garden. Y/N sighed and melted into him, her arms lazily resting around his neck.

“Have I told you that I love you today?” Eris pulled away to mumble against her lips.

Y/N hummed. “Only when we woke up. When we had breakfast. Just before we went outside to the garden.”

Eris smiled and gently squeezed her hips. “I love you.”

“And just now,” Y/N finished.

“I don’t tell you enough,” Eris said.

“I’m sure you tell me more than enough,” Y/N said. “It makes up over seventy percent of your vocabulary.”

Eris rolled his eyes and kissed her, pulling her down to the bed with him. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to end up with you. Out of all the males on the planet, you ended up being my mate and later my wife. And you gave me two beautiful children who literally light up my world.”

“Three,” Y/N corrected.

Eris furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“Three beautiful children,” Y/N confessed.

“No,” Eris said. “You’re not…?

“I am,” Y/N said. “I had it confirmed a few days ago.”

“I would be able to smell the shift in scent,” said Eris.

“There is a tonic I have been taking which hides the smell of a pregnancy,” Y/N said. “I knew that you would be able to tell straight away and I wanted to surprise you. I had a big thing planned, but it just felt right to tell you now.”

“So we are having another child?” Eris asked.

“Yes, my love. We are having another child,” Y/N answered.

The smile on Eris’s face is one of pure happiness and joy. “Oh, my love!” he exclaimed and plants his lips on hers, kissing all across her face and jaw before nuzzling his head into her neck. “You have made me the happiest male in the whole of prythian.”

“You had a part in it too,” Y/N said, rolling off him to lay beside him. Eris pulled her body to his.

“I don’t care!” Eris said, kissing her lips. “We are having another child!”

“Shhhh,” Y/N laughed at his excitement. “We can still use the surprise I planned on Arella and Octavian.”

“They are both sleeping like the dead. I am sure nothing will wake them,” Eris said.

Y/N looked into his eyes and saw the mischievous glint in them. “And what are you suggesting, Eris Vanserra?”

Eris shook his head, playing innocent. “I am suggesting absolutely nothing.”

As he spoke, he rolled so he was hovering above Y/N. Her legs instantly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her. Eris grinned wickedly and covered her lips with his own, devouring her like a starving man. They had not been able to be intimate for the past few weeks, every single time they tried, their children would always need them at that exact moment. Y/N craved him more than anything.

The feeling of Eris touching her body was one that always took her by surprise. How well he knew her to elicit those small sounds of pleasure from her. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, begging him to touch her.

As soon as their clothes were thrown onto the floor, Y/N pressed her body firmly against Eris’s, feeling every part of him. It had been too long since she had time to savour the touch. Quick bouts of pleasure was all they could afford for the past few weeks. Now that their children were fast asleep, Y/N could savour everything Eris had to offer.

“You are the most beautiful being in the universe,” Eris muttered against her lips as he slowly entered her.

Y/N gasped as she gripped onto his shoulders. He always filled her so perfectly. “Look who’s talking,” Y/N muttered as she threaded her fingers in his hair.

As Eris began to thrust, he kissed every part of her body he could reach. He always worshipped her. Always made sure to make her feel loved. Between each kiss and thrust he whispered words of affection that would be seared in Y/N’s brain for all eternity, the whispers of the words would be remembered every night when she went to sleep.

“Eris,” Y/N panted as he sped up. “I need more.”

Eris’s forehead rested against hers as his thrusts sped up once more. He buried his head into her neck, no doubt leaving marks across her shoulder. Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care as she lost herself within the pleasure. Shamelessly she moaned out loud, not not even trying to keep quiet. That coil within her was beginning to unfurl.

“You are perfect,” Eris panted against her skin. “So perfect. You were made for me.”

“Just for you…” Y/N replied, pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Y/N,” Eris groaned as he spilled inside her.

The feeling of Eris filling her up pushed Y/N over that edge and she moaned loud as she came, chanting Eris’s name.

“My love,” Eris said as he slowly pulled out of her and onto the bed next to her, “you are always so perfect.”

Y/N laughed, slightly breathless. “In your eyes, is there anything about me that isn’t perfect?”

“There is absolutely nothing.”

“There has to be one thing,” Y/N insisted.

“There is not one thing about you that is not perfect– actually there is one thing. Your ability to bake, that is definitely not one of your talents,” Eris admitted.

Y/N gasped. “You said you loved the cake I made for Arella’s birthday.”

“That is because it wasn’t the cake you made,” Eris chuckled. “I brought Octavian with me to the bakery in town where I replaced yours with one that looked exactly like it.”

Y/N pushed Eris away playfully. “You diabolical male!”

Eris laughed and the sound was music to Y/N’s ears. She always enjoyed when he laughed, even if it was at her expense.

“I’m sorry, but it was just…not good,” Eris said, still laughing.

Y/N smiled. “Just for that, I am going to take a bath by myself.”

Before Y/N had the chance to climb out of the bed, Eris wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. “You are not going anywhere.”

Eris caressed her body gently, allowing her a chance to leave if she wanted to. But the moment his arms wrapped around her, Y/N melted into him. It was one of her many weaknesses when it came to Eris. The two continued to lay there in silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional bird chirp through the window.

“Thank you,” Eris mumbled against the top of her head, “for giving me the most perfect life.”

“What did I tell you about thanking me?” Y/N replied.

Eris rolled his eyes. “I know but genuinely thank you Y/N.”

Y/N sighed. “I should be thanking you. Before that night, I hated my life. My sisters didn’t seem to care about me anymore, I had no friends, I was simply…trapped. I wasn’t living the life I wanted to live. But you, Eris, gave me the opportunity to have the life I always dreamt of. I found you, the literal other half of my soul and without you, we wouldn’t have two beautiful children and another one on the way. I wouldn’t have this life if it wasn’t for you allowing me to stay that night. This whole life we live is because you allowed me to stay that night.”

Y/N shuffled her position so she was laying face to face with Eris. “So thank you, Eris. Thank you for giving me a home and thank you for seeing me when no one else did.”

The look of pure love on Eris’ face was one Y/N wished to have imprinted on her brain forever. The look was so tender and adoring. Y/N was sure she shared a similar expression on her face.

Eris caressed her face. “I love you so much.”

“I am happy to hear that, otherwise what we just did not long ago would be quite awkward,” Y/N jokes, causing Eris to let out a breathy laugh. “But I love you too, Eris. I never thought I could have so much love for someone before. But for you, for Arella, for Octaivan and for our next child. I love all of you so much.”

Eris pressed his lips against Y/N’s, his fingers tangled in her hair and Y/N sighed in delight when he scratched her scalp. Y/N only pulled away to whisper something against Eris’s lips.

“You are perfect, Eris.”

“And so are you, Y/N,” Eris whispered against her lips. “The most perfect female to ever exist.”

Y/N only kissed him again.

#acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fluff #high lord eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra

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thesunisatangerine · 8 months

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part five

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, angst (i'm sorry)

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 3.2k

Today’s the day you were going to talk to Alexia about it.

You had about two weeks left of your additional three weeks and with each passing day, your stay in Barcelona was drawing to a close and Alexia knew it, too. During the period of time you’d gotten to know her to now, Alexia’d put in the same effort in trying to get to know what you did outside of sports photojournalism. You’d told her, of course, and even showed her photos of your previous photojournalistic coverage, although you’d kept the more graphic ones away from her.

Despite the fact that she had jokingly tried to convince you to stay in sports photojournalism, Alexia had been nothing but supportive of your job. The thing was, she just didn’t know yet what it was you’d be returning to: you just got word that you–among other colleagues–were bound to head over to a conflict zone in a region going through civil unrest and military aggression. But it wasn’t like the thought never crossed your mind.

Sports photography had been a welcome reprieve from the violence and depravity that came with human conflict, a typical scene to witness while on the field. And although unplanned, Alexia had played a part in your enjoyment with this side-project–so much so that it was on top of your list for alternative careers down the line. Be that as it may, you knew deep down that you wouldn’t trade your current career for anything else.

This was what you wanted to talk to Alexia about. Well… among other things but you wanted to ease her into the conversation with a home-cooked meal and a gift. Even though it was difficult to do with Alexia around, you were able to finish making the latter a few days ago. The gift was something similar to the one she gave you: a bracelet with the colors of the flag of your country and instead of a diamond, you used a small, silver, hollow rectangular charm to represent you and your camera. And with that dealt with, you only needed to grab the ingredients for the former which brought you out to Mercat del Centre on this fine Barcelona highnoon.

With paper bags of groceries in hand, you were thinking of grabbing something from that sushi place you’d passed on the way to the market but just as you turned the corner, you saw three women walking ahead a few paces away with their backs turned to you.

They were all wearing matching tank shirts, shorts, and ankle socks but the one with the cap stood out to you and instantly, you recognised it to be Alexia. Knowing that and from the Barcelona matches that you’d been to, you recognised that it was Mapi and Patri flanking her.

Excitement filled you immediately although you wondered for a second what they were doing there until you realised that Estadi Johan Cruyff was only a few blocks away. The instinct to call out Alexia’s name and reach out for her didn’t go unnoticed by you but you managed to stop yourself in time before you accidentally did.

The both of you never really talked about where the both of you stood and there was no clear label for the nature of your relationship. If someone had asked you this when you just met her over two months ago, the answer would’ve been clear; it was merely physical with a dose of infatuation. Now, it was more than just sex to you: you wanted her in every possible way, you wanted to know and to be known by her, you wanted to be the person she’d tell about the most mundane of things to–to be the person she’d allow to fall for her because you already know you were on the brink of falling. So apart from your job situation, this question was the other half of the conversation you wanted to have with her.

Though you meant to go to the same direction, you didn’t want to risk Alexia noticing you not because you didn’t want her to or that you were afraid she’d ignore you–no, you just didn’t want to accidentally interrupt her time with her teammates. She’d come to you later anyway so you’d just tell her about this then. You were just about to turn around when something in their conversation got your attention.

“So, Ale, are you dating that photographer?” Patri asked, her question oozed of mischief.

“What photographer?” Alexia replied with a flat tone.

Mapi snickered. “You’re too smart to play dumb and when you do it on purpose you just sound stupid.”

For that, she got a punch to the shoulder from Alexia but Mapi only giggled.

“Fine, fine. And, no, I’m not.”

“Oh, come on, Ale! If she’s not, then why does she always take the best photos of you? Right, Patri?” Mapi whined.

“Exactly! Oh, remember those matches when you weren’t even on the pitch? And the way she always looks at you after a match? I’d say that’s something!” Then as if she just had an epiphany, Patri’s eyes widened, hand clapping over her opened mouth. “Wait! Unless…”

Patri didn’t even need to finish her sentence, her suggestive tone was enough to communicate what she meant by it and your ears burnt at the implication.

“Oh, shit. Are you, you know?” Mapi exclaimed, finally catching on, eyes just as wide as Patri’s.

“Keep your voices down, assholes,” Alexia growled in annoyance then she grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear. In response, the other two women just laughed.

“Love you, too, Cap,” Mapi said in a saccharine tone.

Alexia sighed. “Okay. Yes. Are you happy now?”

The other two women hooted and patted Alexia on the back.

“Ha! I knew it!” Patri exclaimed.

“Do you like her though?” Mapi’s question stilled your breath as you anticipated Alexia’s answer.

“No,” Alexia shook her head and she shrugged. “She means nothing to me.”

“Ouch! Not even considering dating?”

“I can’t deal with that right now.”

“Damn… So does that mean she’s one of your girls, then? And here I thought you finally stopped.”

“I’m not even going to answer that.”

You didn’t hear anything after that. Alexia’s words rooted you to the spot and you watched as the three of them walked on.

She means nothing to me. She’s one of your girls. She means nothing to me. She’s…

Those same words echoed in your mind in a ruthless cycle but what stuck to you the most was the way Alexia said them. You’d never heard her that cold… that detached. Your hands shook, a chill ran up your spine and you shivered while the world blurred in front of you.

You brought a hand to your eyes and felt warm tears on your fingers.

Oh.

And without even asking you got the answer to your question.

––––––

The moment Alexia stepped foot into the house that night, you grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket and pulled her down for a searing kiss. She gasped in surprise as you pushed her against the door and you took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, your fingers now tangled in her hair while your front was pressed firmly against her.

It wasn’t enough.

You bit and tugged her lower lip before you nipped a path along her jaw down to the base of her throat where you sucked at her pulse point. Her muscles responded and rippled beneath your palms when you traced their lines along her sides and stomach under her shirt while Alexia gasped and moaned from your touch.

It wasn’t enough.

By the time the both of you reached the bed, you’d stripped Alexia off her clothes. She landed on her back on the bed when you pushed her, gasping as she did so, and you immediately crawled on top of her. Wasting no time, you sucked and marked the expanse of skin in front of you: her neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach. You nipped and bit as Alexia writhed and keened beneath you.

It wasn’t enough.

When you felt her large hands along your sides trying to tug the hem of your shirt to strip it off you, you grabbed her wrists and pinned them on either side of her head–a rejection to her offer, one that you never thought you’d do around Alexia. But just the thought of being completely naked made you shudder, and not in a good way. So you pressed a bare leg against her core to distract her to which Alexia keenly responded to by arching against you while her wetness burnt like a brand against your skin there.

It wasn’t enough.

When Alexia cried out your name while your fingers worked deep in her core, neck straining and muscles tensing, the pit in your chest only seemed to yawn wider and dug deeper.

It wasn’t enough.

When Alexia clung to you as she dozed off with her soft breath caressing your clothed stomach, tears burnt in the corners of your eyes as you watched her glow in her slumber, so peaceful and beautiful. Emotions bubbled in the base of your throat, a string of words coiled themselves tighter around your tongue, but something else burnt in your throat that you found difficult to swallow.

In your desperation to get closer–to make Alexia forget about whoever else that she was sleeping with–you’d used sex as a tool for possession not for intimacy, and the streak of shame that that knowledge left behind pained you more than you could ever thought it could. You weren’t like this. This wasn’t a person you wanted to become, especially when it came with Alexia.

But… you wanted more.

You wanted so much more.

But wasn’t this what you already convinced yourself of? Deep down, you knew all too well that this was too good to be true–too good of a love to be yours.

You brushed away a lock of blonde hair from Alexia’s temple, admiring the strong slope of her nose, the fierce slant of her eyebrows, the gentle curves of her eyelids, the elegant bow of her lips. You soaked as much of her as you could because this would be the last time you’d be able to see her like this.

It was a blur, the journey back from the marketplace to the house earlier today, and your mind was a cacophony of words but a single thought was in clarity: you needed to leave. So the moment you got back, you did two things: you emailed Derek and booked your flight home.

There were no details included in the email you sent to your brother as to why you were coming back early–it was extremely unprofessional but an apology was the only thing you could come up with. You’d never not seen a project through to the end no matter the circumstance but this was different; you felt as though you were more equipped to navigate mortal peril than this dance with Alexia so leaving was the only option.

Tomorrow at midnight, you’d be gone, two weeks ahead of schedule. You didn’t know if Alexia would get here tomorrow before you depart but that was a question for then. For now, you would allow yourself to savour this moment when Alexia was still right here beside you for the final time.

You brought one of her hand to your lips and pressed a light kiss against her knuckles.

A line from a poem fleeted through your mind.

these, our bodies, possessed by light

––––––

Everything was already packed by the time early evening came and even though the caretaker was scheduled to come early tomorrow, you made a point to check around for anything important you might have forgotten and to ensure you’d sufficiently tidied up after yourself. Finally satisfied, you went downstairs and just after you ordered an Uber to take you to the airport, a knock came to the door and the door handle turned.

Shit.

“Hey, the door’s unlocked! Look, I didn’t know what you wanted to eat since you didn’t text me back so I just grabbed us some–”

Alexia’s voice floated into the room and as she passed through the doorway with her bag of takeaways in one hand, she stopped in her tracks as she saw you and your luggage. Then her face turned cloudy, concern and a question in her eyes.

Her hair was still damp, cheeks still flushed from training, and you longed to reach out to tuck that loose hair behind her ear but instead, you clenched your fists at your sides as you watched her mouth open a few times before she seemed to finally settle on what to say.

“Is… everything alright?” She regarded your luggage for a moment longer before she met your eyes again.

“Yes.”

It was only one word but your voice trembled nonetheless, and you hated that it did. Alexia’d must have heard something in your tone because her brows furrowed even further as understanding began to seep in.

“You’re–” Alexia’s throat bobbed, “you’re leaving now?”

“Yes.”

As each second passed, you could see the way Alexia’s walls began to climb.

“You said it’s not until after two weeks–”

“I lied.”

At that, the remaining warmth in her eyes flitted away and left her hazel eyes flat and cold. Then she scoffed, hurt clear in her voice when she asked, “were you even planning to say goodbye?”

A heavy silence settled in the air; an answer in and of itself. You could feel the distance between the both of you widen as the moment stretched on, the air so thick from tension it hurt to even breathe. Then a notification from your phone disrupted the quiet and it gave you an excuse to divert your eyes from Alexia’s.

Your Uber just arrived. You sent the driver a quick message to wait, that you’d pay them for the time, before you faced the music again. Clearing your throat, you moved to get the paper bag addressed to ‘Ale’ from the counter–the one you originally planned to leave by the door once you’d left–then you stood just out of arm’s reach from Alexia and offered her the bag.

“Before I forget, here.”

Alexia’s eyes bore into yours before she eventually dragged them down to the bag in your hand. She placed the takeaways beside her feet before she grabbed the bag in your hand, her fingertips brushed against the skin of your knuckles and you fought the urge to flinch away.

You watched as she peered inside and you bit your lip as you hoped she wouldn’t see the pictures and the letters you wrote; it was bad enough she got here before you left to begin with, how much worse could this get if she saw them in front of you. Oh, how you wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Once she stuck her hand inside to grab something, you held your breath. Then you saw the way her jaws worked at what she found inside. She lifted it enough for you to catch a glimpse of it over the edge of the bag: blue and scarlet, her Barcelona jersey.

Alexia sucked in a breath, ragged, before she breathed out with a trembling voice. “Oh.”

“I did promise I was going to return it.”

She looked up at you, her eyes now glazed over and you were sure with the way your eyes burnt that yours were just as red.

“Why?”

There were so many ways you could answer her question, the words because I could fall in love with you were poised at the tip of your tongue but you bit it off before they could slip out and leave you more vulnerable than you already were.

“Because… it was fun while it lasted. No strings attached, right?” The words sounded so cruel to you and immediately, you wanted to take them back. To reduce those moments with her and the memories that were now permanently a part of you to a passing fling felt abysmally wrong. You wanted nothing more than to step into her embrace, to tell her how much she’d come to mean to you, to tell her that you could fall for her if she’d just let you… but you never really had a chance did you? You knew that now and you couldn’t keep pretending you didn’t want more.

Alexia’s jaw worked again as her chin quivered, her tongue skimmed over the corner of her lips, a habit you noticed she did when she was upset–whenever she wanted to stop herself from crying.

“Is this it, then?” She whispered the question and at that, a tear fell down your cheek.

“I guess it is.”

And in the silence that followed, as if guided by an invisible force, your hand began to reach out for Alexia but your presence of mind came back to you and you quickly retracted it. Instead, you grabbed your two bags and began to head out the door. You passed by her and you were already a few steps away when you heard Alexia speak.

“Will I ever see you again?”

You knew she knew the answer to it; you knew she wanted you to say otherwise.

You didn’t turn back when you said, “goodbye, Alexia. Take care of yourself.”

––––––

The flight back home was nothing short of a fever dream: one minute you were at Barcelona-El Prat Airport nursing your head in one of the bathroom stalls as you cried, the next your plane was touching down at your home country’s landing strip.

Derek was there to pick you up and he looked like he was about to bombard you with questions but upon seeing the state of you, his gaze softened, brows furrowing in concern and there–in place of your business partner from a moment ago–was your brother.

He pulled you into a tight hug and you closed your eyes revelling in his comforting scent while you willed yourself not to cry. Although his arms brought solace to your aching heart, the ones you longed to hold you belonged to someone who was a thousand miles away.

Over the next few days following your arrival, you ignored everything and went off the grid, deleting the social media apps on your phone lest the temptations would convince you to check how Alexia was doing. So instead, you busied yourself with catching up with your mother and your friends, and buried yourself with work while Derek hovered in the background, protective and concerned but respectfully giving you time to come around and tell him what happened.

You told yourself you would–that it could wait a little longer. But you never got around to it because the next thing you knew, you, Gilda, and Jones were on air to the conflict zone for journalistic coverage. Once your plane landed, the current malaise from your personal life seemed infinitesimal for it was nothing compared to the afflictive catastrophe of war.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: im so sorry #also an extra round of apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes for this one #hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 6: Darling

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied sexual content, MDNI Note: PART 6 HAS ARRIVED! Thank you for all of your support! A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @peachesofteal for workshopping with me, per usual, and being my beta! Enjoy and blessed be! (p.s. ghost drinking an orange sodie lol) << Previous | Next >>

Simon could hear his daughter’s screams as he came up the walkway to their front door, duffel slung over his shoulder. He had returned from a month-long deployment an hour ago and only allowed himself enough time to debrief and return his weapons once on base before hopping in his car and heading home.

He entered the house, still in full gear (mask and all), to find his heavily pregnant wife pacing the living room, their crying daughter in her arms. Her eyes and cheeks were red when she turned to the door, sobbing in relief at the sight of him.

“Oh, sweetheart. What’s going on?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door and going to her.

“She has a-a cold.”

“I can see that.” He wiped at the snot and drool on Joanie’s lip with his glove. “Where’s Roach?”

“He went to pick König up. You didn’t see him?”

“No. Must’ve just missed ‘im.” When Price handed out assignments for their most recent deployment, Roach had offered (more like decided) to stay with Freyja for the duration of his absence. With König also deployed, it made sense for him to help her with the baby and housekeeping while Simon was gone. Better than staying on base – alone – for a month. Knowing someone was in the house with his family made him feel better about leaving for such an extended period, especially with his track record. The last time he had left the country, leaving his pregnant spouse behind…

Simon rubbed his daughter’s back, his heartstrings tugging at the thought of her being in pain. “Give ’er here, I’ll take a turn.”

“Si, no, you must be exhausted-”

“I am exhausted, which means I’m in no mood to argue. Go to bed, love, please.”

His pleading didn’t seem to affect her as she went back to doing laps around the couch. “The doctor said there’s nothing we can do. It just has to pass. I’ve tried everything. Chest salve, shower steam, saline – nothing’s working. Every-Every time we put her down or sit down, the screaming just gets worse. Can’t stop…moving, and your son is kicking the shit out of me-”

This was ironic, considering how Joan only kicked when Simon or one of their friends spoke or touched her belly. Now, their son only ever kicked for her.

“Freyja.”

She stopped her rambling and found he had stepped into her path; he firmly held her biceps and dragged his hands up and down. Freyja sniffled as another tear slipped down her cheek. No singular word could describe how she felt (and probably looked). Drained, fatigued, beaten, dog-tired; none quite did the trick.

“You look like shit. You need to get some rest.”

“No, Simon, please just go to…bed.”

Soon as Ghost took Joan and returned to massaging her spine, her wails simmered to quiet whimpers as she cuddled into him. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, little fingers hanging from the collar of his shirt to the top of his vest. Their baby was getting big, her senseless baby talk beginning to lean more toward coherent vocabulary. When Joanie cried a soft “Dada” against his neck, Freyja started to sob harder, the heels of her palms dug into her eyes.

Shit. “What’s wrong? She stopped screaming bloody murder. That’s a good thing.”

“I’ve been trying to calm her down for hours! You come home, and after five minutes, you’ve fixed it. She hates me! She fucking hates me!”

“Frey, look at me.” He stopped comforting Joan for a moment to tilt his wife’s chin up, forcing her to listen to him. When she did, he took his hand back. “Babies see their mothers as an extension of themselves. She knows your heartbeat and breathing sounds; she gets food from you…”

“Who told you that?”

“…I read about it.”

Freyja softened, tears no longer flowing freely. “You read parenting books?”

“Of course I do. I want to be the best for them and you.” He pulled her into his chest with one arm, his covered lips pressing into her hair. “You are her mother. I could never take your place. You’re her home. But I’ve been gone for a month, and I’ve never been away from her this long. There’s something to be said about missing her dad and wanting some comfort.”

When Simon brushed her tears away, she turned to kiss his palm, then rested her cheek there. Freyja didn’t know how, but her husband sure had a way with words, always knowing how to make her feel better.

“Better?”

“Mhm,” she hummed and, before she could reach to pull his mask up, Joanie whined in frustration, kicking her legs impatiently, about to start up again. Simon chuckled and let his wife go, his heavy boots thunking against the hard floor as he began what would be a long night of getting his steps in.

“Good. Now do as Daddy tells you and go to bed. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Coming up on the end of her pregnancy, the ‘waddling’ stage was in full swing. If Freyja thought she was big just before Joan was born, she was almost certainly a whale now, and she was losing energy much faster than before. This time around, though, they were sure to schedule a c-section for the week before her due date. The OB didn’t put up much of an argument with her medical history and Joan’s early arrival.

Her phone pinged again as she rounded the corner toward her husband’s office.

And again.

Joan’s irritable whines became more evident as she closed in on her destination. “Si, I can only move so fast.”

“Oh, thank god.” Ghost detached Joan’s iron grip from his mask while she was distracted. She continued to kick her little legs against him, trying to get away. “She’s antsy. I can’t get her down for shit. She’s sick of me.”

He wheeled his chair around the desk and tugged her missing sock back on (to her protest) until he reached the other side and placed her feet on the floor. “See? Mum’s here. Go see her,” he cooed, her tiny hands gripping his thumbs for support.

“Dad Ghost” as she had lovingly coined Simon in his work attire, was a walking contradiction. An arguably massive man, a masked mystery to majority of the population on base, snapping otherwise cocky and egotistical soldiers back in line. Still, no one dared to laugh as he screamed at them for poor technique or a lackluster performance with a blonde baby on his hip or strapped to his back. It never failed to make her want to giggle, hearing such a soft, gentle tone from the big scary skull plate affixed to his balaclava.

Freyja was halfway across the room when he stood their daughter between his comically large boots. “She won’t go that far,” she admonished. “If you give her too big of a task, she’s not going to even try-”

As if sensing her mother’s doubt, Joan took a steady step forward, still holding Simon’s hands in deep concentration. Then another, and another –

Until he couldn’t stretch forward anymore, and she let go, hobbling towards Freyja until she stumbled at her feet, letting out a soft baby grunt.

They both stared at each other in silence, eyes wide and mouths agape in shock. Neither spoke for a good minute, until Joanie pulled herself up again by Freyja’s cargo pants, babbling, “Mum mum mum mummm”, gnawing at the thick material and looking up with big, brown eyes.

“Did she just…?”

“I told you, she’s bloody brilliant.” Simon shot up to scoop the baby and place her in his wife’s waiting arms.

“My big, smart girl! I can’t believe it!” She squealed and giggled as Freyja peppered her face in fat, wet kisses and gently shook her. Ghost joined in, playfully nibbling at the rolls on the other side through the black material covering his face. Joanie smacked them both away, screaming with joy. Amongst all the commotion, Price stopped in the doorway on his way to their brief (which they were about to be late for).

“What’s going on here?” he asked, fists on his hips in faux anger. “I thought we had an understanding! No fun at work without Granddad.”

“We officially have a walker on our hands!”

Price gasped and crossed the room in an instant. “And I missed it?!” He shoved the stack of mission folders at the lieutenant and stole his granddaughter from her mother, hiking her high up on his waist. “You walked without me? I’m offended, little miss, but I’ll settle for a victory lap.”

He plucked his green bucket hat off the top of his head and dropped it onto hers, earning a high-pitched shriek of delight when it covered her face. “Let’s roll, everybody. We’ve got a meeting to get to,” he commanded before marching down the hall. “Oi, lads! She walked!”

A chorus of cheers broke out in the distance, followed by a wall-shaking group chant, “Joanie! Joanie! Joanie!”

Freyja just stood there, pouting, arms crossed atop her belly. “Just once, I’d like to celebrate our baby’s milestones in peace.”

“You know that’s not possible, love.” Ghost chuckled next to her, offering a single pat to her ass as they headed to the briefing. While neither of them would be going, it was their job to know what was going on during their impending absence. The ruckus started to die down when the couple sat, and the others followed suit. Soap placed a mug of peppermint tea in front of her, which she thanked him for, and Laswell, Gaz, and Soap filed around the table.

“Kӧnig and Roach should be here shortly,” Price said, bouncing Joan on his lap as Ghost passed out manila folders.

Gaz checked his watch with a furrowed brow. “It’s five past. Maybe they forgot?”

“Just give them a few minutes. I’m sure they’ll be here.”

“His office was closed, so he’s definitely in there. I can go grab ‘im. It’s no trouble,” he offered, the metal legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up.

“Be my guest, Sergeant,” Freyja hummed, making eye contact with John as she sipped her tea, hiding her mischievous grin behind the cup. She waited for an appropriate amount of time, about how long it would take to take ten paces up the hall before she held up five fingers.

“You’re a demon.”

“Five, four, three, two…”

“Verdammt nochmal!”

There’s a loud bang, eerily similar to the sound of a six-foot-six body slamming into the floor. Boots thunder against the ground until Gaz appears in the doorway again, eyes wide and blushing like a madman.

“Genau deshalb habe ich das Militär verlassen, keiner von euch hat den Anstand, verdammt noch mal anzuklopfen!”

“Didn’t knock, did you.”

“Nope.”

“How bad?”

König stomped into the meeting, red as a tomato as he jerked his long, tangled (read: freshly fucked) hair into a knot at the base of his neck before slipping his hood on. Roach walked in behind him, grinning like an absolute idiot (read: clearly the one doing the fucking), albeit a bit flush, and his clothes untucked and wrinkled as he plopped beside John.

“At least I didn’t get knifed this time.”

“Der Tag ist noch jung, Unteroffizier.”

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounded like a threat.”

“It was,” Freyja sang, her body shaking as she attempted to withhold laughter.

By the time Price had finished divulging the details of the op scheduled for the end of the month (which was also around the time of her c-section, which left Freyja and those deploying disappointed), Joanie had escaped his hold to crawl across the table and landed in her mother’s lap. She sat back against Frey’s round belly, happily gnawing on a teething ring while the captain combed her fingers through her soft, blonde curls.

John cleared his throat and leaned back, tipping the chair on its back legs. “So…In a shocking turn of events, Roach is the top–”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY, CAPTAIN?!” Soap screeched after choking on his coffee, leaving a stain on his shirt as it dripped from his nose.

“Oh, mein Gott…”

“I don’t know. What did I say, Sergeant?”

Across the table, Roach held his lips between his teeth as he wheezed, quickly signing, “Only for my king.”

“PLEASE PLÖTZE! Stop talking!” König, finally deciding he’d had enough, shot up from his seat and practically sprinted out of the room, almost bonking his head on the door frame on his way out. A moment later, he stormed back in and snagged his forgotten file awaiting him in Roach’s outstretched hand before turning back out.

Biting his lip, Soap muttered, “Interesting…” to himself, eyeing the Austrian’s retreating form before flicking back over to Roach. The Brit was already looking at him, probably having heard him being sat next to him. He winked with a devilish smirk, and practically purred, “S’alright, happens tae th' best o' us.”

A few days shy of their next mission, and the birth of the newest Riley, the gang gathered around their living room for one last game night before Roach, König, Soap, and John departed for another mission. Roach and König were less than pleased to be missing the birth of their godson, but it couldn’t be helped.

Kyle placed a red eight down on the stack of cards, ending his turn. “C’mon, mate, what’s the wildest thing you’ve done on a mission?” he prodded, raising a brow in Simon’s direction. “You know all our stories. It’s only fair.”

The two shared a knowing look, and Freyja giggled once before Kyle interrupted, “Besides that, you heathens.”

Simon pressed against the kitchen chair he had dragged in for himself, seriously considering what he would consider the most outlandish activity he had partaken in outside of combat. Particularly, that didn’t involve screwing his wife in places they shouldn’t, like public places, sniper lookouts, cars, or supply closets…

Before he could drift too far, he caught the saucy side-eye his wife was throwing him from her deep armchair.

“No.”

Soap peeked up from his hand with a quirked brow. “Does Ghostie have an embarrassing secret? Now we have to know!”

“It’s not a secret, and I’m not embarrassed by it just because I don’t flaunt it around,” he said, shot back the rest of his whiskey, and replaced his mask. Simon didn’t always wear it with their friends; he just so happened to feel inclined to it that night. There was no rhyme or reason as to when he needed the comfort; the urge just came and went as it pleased.

He tried his best to sound completely disinterested, hoping the discussion would blow over as he threw down his card. “Blue.”

Unfortunately, his plan did not work, and all interest in their game of Uno was lost. Kyle threw his hand down on the table, completely giddy. “WHAT IS IT?! TELL US!”

Simon groaned, throwing his cards at his wife, who simply laughed. “See, look what you did.” He sighed and begrudgingly unhooked his mask from behind his ears, tossing that at her too. After a beat, he let his tongue loll out, revealing a silver ball.

Several (if not all) of their jaws dropped, save for Freyja’s, who was utterly thrilled that this was happening.

Johnny was the first to speak. “Is…that…” he stuttered, staring unabashedly in disbelief.

He snapped his mouth shut again once everyone had had a decent look. “Alright, can we move on please–”

The Scot pounced across the space, clearing the coffee table as he knocked Simon out of his chair, taking them both down into a heap on the floor. They wrestled as he tried to dig his fingers into Ghost’s mouth and pry it open again. “LEMME SEE!”

“JOHNNY!” Simon roared, bucking and thrashing his hips in attempt to get the man off, but he quickly scooted up until he sat firmly on his chest, knees pinning his shoulders as he yanked the piercing back out.

“Awe, so that’s why you’re always fuckin’ like horny teenagers! Oh, ah bet that feels good on your cu-”

“SHUT UP, SOAP!” “THAT’LL DO!”

Freyja whipped her slipper at Johnny’s head, which he swiftly dodged. Meanwhile, Gaz was face down on the floor, having a fit and struggling to breathe. Price looked like he would actually rather die than endure another moment of the scene unfolding at his feet. Kӧnig was carefully weaving between people and furniture to remove Soap before he got hurt, and Roach stayed in his spot, mouth open in silent laughter.

Thank God Joanie was a heavy sleeper.

“Are you gonnae sit there ‘n tell meh that a’m wrong? A husband should always eat arse!”

“JOHNNY, OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

Kyle finally caught his breath and cut back in, “But does it WORK?!”

Everybody froze, including Kӧnig, whose hands looped under Johnny’s armpits, about to extract him. From underneath him, Simon glared up at his wife (who started this whole fucking mess). “Freyja–”

But Freyja, being the brat she is and loving the chaos, “…It works.”

Simon covered his face with both of his now freed hands, so utterly sick of her shit as the sergeant shook his shoulders, he and Gaz both screaming like madmen. Kӧnig still hovered over them, ready to remove Johnny if Simon called for it, his red hair up in a neat top knot at the crown of his head. A few strands hung loosely by his ears and at the peak of his forehead, framing his pale skin.

“AAAAAYYYYYY, SO YOU DO GIVE GOOD HEAD!”

He removed his shield at that, looking up at Johnny with a confused expression. “Who said I don’t give good head?”

Price flinched with a crinkled nose and grabbed his hat from the back of the couch. “That’s my cue.”

“Scary guys either have monster cock or scary good head,” Kyle stated as if it were pure fact.

“But he has both.”

“I can’t fucking take this.” Simon finally shoved at Johnny and the Austrian lifted him with ease, standing the Scot back on his feet.

Soap dusted off his pants. “Damn, you’ll have’ta get one’a those, Köni,” he teased and turned to face the giant, looking up at him with a boyish grin.

König’s skin, ever the shy one, immediately painted itself a rosy hue, unable to be hidden by any hood or mask. Even Roach was taken by his brashness and turned a little pink himself, choosing to sip his drink. König was, unfortunately, frozen in place, wide eyes staring down at Johnny’s proud face.

Three seconds pass.

Then two more.

Then three again.

“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS THEM?! The threesome you told me about a few weeks ago, was them?”

With nowhere else to go, König collapsed onto the couch and pulled the neck of his sweater over his face. “Verdammter Himmel, Johnny…” If he could crawl into a hole and die, he would.

“What can ah say? M’services are world-class.”

“Can confirm,” Roach added, having put his glass down so he could use both hands to talk.

Johnny raised a brow and dragged his eyes from Roach’s shoes, slowly up his shins, then his thighs and chest before settling on the challenging smirk on his freckled face. “‘S that so?” he asked, stepping into the space between Roach’s knees and the table.

Roach simply nodded, looking up at his boyfriend through hooded lashes, resembling a lovesick puppy with shocking accuracy. He knew exactly what he was doing, too, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth. Roach was a…talented flirt, to say the least.

His glass was carefully removed from his hand and placed on a coaster. Without a second thought, Soap wrapped his fingers around Roach’s wrist, dragged it behind his neck, and tossed the man over his shoulder. Gaz gaped, completely dumbfounded into silence – flabbergasted, if you will. He paused in the entryway, looking over his opposite shoulder.

“You comin’, Kö?”

König, still tucked away in the corner of the couch, peeked out from the cocoon he had created with his sweater. Even his forehead was tinged red, still. He openly stared for a bit before mustering up enough courage to rise again, and in an impossibly meek voice for such a large man, replied, “...Yes, sir,” and loosely tangled their fingers together.

Kyle threw his hands up then dropped them onto his head, dragging his cap back a bit. “WHAT IS GOING ON?!”

Freyja offered a sympathetic pat, her bottom lip jutted out. Poor Simon, who had returned to his seat, covered his mouth with one palm as he tried to contain his chuckles. He pulled his mask back on after retrieving it from the floor.

“Don’t worry, Gaz,” she said and poked his cheek. “We’ll find you a nice girl.”

“I GET AROUND FINE!” He swatted her hand away, glowering at her. “You’re all just a bunch of slags!”

He jumped up, abandoning his beer and putting his hat back in place. “Where’s my niece? I need to restore my innocence,” he grumbled, trudging upstairs.

“Simon, did he just call us sluts?”

“Yes, darling.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld

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lbxbx · 2 months

Text

Blackmail 3 | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo

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It’s been almost a month, nothing changed really and he was right, during the whole tour you two kept it professional around the rest of the team, but not like all of the time, he would on purpose bite onto your fingers when you’re putting on his makeup, or even graze his elbow against your tits when you two are standing next to each other, but other than that you two kept it professional to avoid the rumors.

their tour ended a couple days ago and they planned a celebration dinner for the entire staff at a nearby restaurant for barbeque and you wouldn’t say no, they were nice enough to give everyone a raise and a few days off as a reward, so tonight was the last dinner before you get back to work this Monday to film their variety show.

You had woken up early to go and buy yourself the car you were saving for and you finally did, it had to stay at the agency for a couple more days for the license plate and papers, but you were at your best that day. The moment you get into the restaurant you are welcomed by everyone cheering around and raising their shot glasses and welcoming you in, you hug your friends and get seated with them before taking off your cardigan.

That day your mood was top notch, you felt strong and proud of yourself, you finally got your car, you adore your job that introduced you to so many nice people and you were really feeling your best. You got dressed into a white summer dress with spaghetti straps, and you can’t lie, you wanted to bring the attention to your tits.

The staff cheers again when the boys walk into the restaurant and they take their seats. And even when you know that what happened the other time was a one time thing, but fucking god Taehyung looked like a fucking snack. Nothing special really, but his gray sweatpants are going to be the end of you, you try your best to keep your eyes off of him and act occupied.

As the food is served and the atmosphere around the place was incredible, everyone was happy, some were even too drunk and dancing while chewing on their food, everyone was chatting and catching up, it felt like home to you, and you wouldn’t risk losing your job for anything.

On the other hand though, Taehyung is nodding his head to his manager who was telling him about his family nonstop but Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s not even sure he’s listening at this point.

He was searching for you the entire night, and right when his eyes landed on you the alcohol was already going through his system and he can feel his body heating up. He finds himself having flashbacks of how perfect your cunt wrapped around his cock when he was fucking you that night, he still didn’t get enough and he’s thirsty for more.

You made a great choice wearing the white dress because it did bring his attention to your tits, he clears his own throat at the thought of going down on you and fuck he needs you tonight.

You can easily tell that someone was looking and you know exactly who, so you turn your head away on purpose and gather your hair away from your neck to reveal more of your chest, this ignites him even more and all he knows is that he’s up on his feet excusing himself away from his manager and making his way to you.

“Good evening girls.” He leans his palm on the table with a toothy smile on his face. “Are you having fun?” He laughs on the inside and he finds it funny that he fucked every girl that was seated around this table.

“Yes!” Leah pours him some Soju and hands him the shot glass. “Have a drink with us.”

“Some other time, but hey Y/N, can we talk?” He tilts his head, everyone was too drunk to make a big deal out of it so you just nod your head and pull your chair back to get up onto your feet. He puts his hand on your lower back and walks a couple steps away from the table. “You look incredible tonight.”

“Oh yeah? How’d you like the dress?” You ask already knowing the answer, he high key stares down onto your tits and takes a step closer. “Would love to take it off of you tonight.”

You giggle and cross your arms. “I’ll take that as a yes, I got it when we were in the states last week.”

“Mhm, it brings out your tits.” He puts his hands in his pocket, his eyes still locked onto your chest. “Wanna come over tonight? I’m having an after party.”

You were never invited to after parties so you didn’t mind at all. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind, your place?” You ask, and he shakes his head right away. “No, I can’t risk something breaking or the apartment being messed up and getting dirty, I actually rented a B&B for the night.”

“Sure, I’ll be there.” You laugh when you realize that his eyes are not still not moving. “Is it an actual party or is it just us? Cause it sounds suspicious.”

“No, I promise it’s not just us.” He finally looks up at you and leans in to kiss you on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, I’m sending you the location right now.”

“Sure, I’ll see you tonight.”

He walks back to his table, this time pulling the seat next to Jungkook who’s digging into the pork belly. “So? How did it go?”

“She’s coming, you can consider it done.” Taehyung grabs onto the closest pair of chopsticks and grabs a bite. “I’ll leave first and set up the cameras.”

“Cool.”

Jungkook has probably watched your video with Taehyung more than Taehyung himself, and he’s been itching the entire time wanting to spend a night with you, he kept nagging wanting his friend to try and plan out a night or you three, and ever since they walked into the restaurant Jungkook thought it’s the perfect opportunity.

“Look just tell her it’s a fake party or something.”

“She’s not that stupid Jungkook, she’ll figure it out.” Taehyung gritted on his own teeth, he’s had enough and at this point he just wants things to get done with just to stop the nagging from the younger one.

“Just invite her over to your place or something, please.” He’ll shed tears if he needed.

“Alright fine.”

And it’s not until approximately 3 hours later, and people start leaving, you get up and put your cardigan on and grab your purse. “I’ll see you guys on Monday,”

“But hey, we’re going out with the girls to this club a couple blocks away, aren’t you joining us?” One of your girl friends asks, you look at your phone screen to check the time before straight up lying to her. “I can’t, I’m really tired and I have to go home, but hey, have fun.” You wave your hand goodbye and walk out of the restaurant before hearing someone calling out your name from behind and following you outside. “Y/N, wait up.”

You turn to the owner of this voice and it’s Jungkook, holding his car keys and wallet and running outside. “Oh hey, what’s up?”

“You’re going to Taehyung’s place? I can drive you there, I’m going there too.” He points his head towards his car.

“Oh, you don’t have to, he sent me the location I’ll call a cab or something.” You unlock your phone, he laughs and puts his hand behind your back. “Let me drive you there, come on.”

You don’t argue anymore and just follow him to his luxurious car, your ride there was quiet but not awkward at all, only the sound of his radio playing music was in the background along with the sound of the wind through the open windows.

“I guess it’s right here.” He finally parks his car, it wasn’t that far away but you can hear music blasting in the dark alleys, “Do you know who else is invited?”

“I know the rest of the boys couldn’t make it, but it’s mostly people you know.” You two leave the car and get into the building, Jungkook waves hello to the security guard near the gate and the guard smirks. Jungkook and Taehyung are recurrent visitors to this B&B and almost every time they show up with a different girl. “Have a pleasant evening Mr. Park.”

Yeah, he just called him that because the boys used fake names all the time when it came to such activities.

You both take the elevator to the 28th floor, the elevator doors open right into a huge apartment that was nearly empty, only two guys handshaking Taehyung and saying goodbye, before getting into the elevator and leaving. “Hey, where’s everyone?” Jungkook walks further inside, totally knowing that there won’t be anyone else but the three of you.

“They’re on their way.” Taehyung proceeds with the lie, before inviting you inside, again his hand on your lower back guiding you onto the leather couch. “Tequila?” He grabs out the bottle with a couple shot glasses.

“Yeah, sure.” You make yourself comfortable, Jungkook sits right next to you, you find it a little concerning when he’s sitting really close, his leg grazing against yours. “Kook?” Taehyung offers a drink.

“No thanks, I’m driving.” It makes you a little relieved that at least someone will stay sober. “Here you go.” Taehyung hands you the shot glass and clinks his own with yours. “Cheers.”

You gulp down the shot and grab the bottle to examine it. “It doesn’t taste half bad, I like it.”

“Here, let me pour you some more.” He grabs the bottle and pours you down another shot, before refilling his own and clinking it with yours, and the two of you throw your heads back when taking the shots. Gosh, why is it getting hot in here?

Jungkook gets up onto his feet and stands behind the couch, his hands landing onto your shoulders. “Can I help you with your jacket?” He asks, as if he knew you were started to feel overheated, you nod your head and pull your hair to the side as he helps you take off your cardigan, Taehyung who’s sitting next to you runs his fingers down your forearm and whispers. “So how was your vacation?”

Jungkook pours you another shot of tequila and puts the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, before taking back his seat this time even sitting closer to you, your attention was on Taehyung the entire time as you were genuinely telling him about your vacation even when he truly doesn’t care, he’s just using the small talk as a way to distract you from realizing that no one else was going to show up, and he was giving Jungkook the chance to make a move on you.

And it was already planned ahead, as you were talking, you feel Jungkook’s fingers tugging your hair behind your ear and moving down to your neck and back, slowly and gently rubbing small circles to make you relax in your seat and it works in a click of a button, your eyes feel heavier and your body is heating up even when the cardigan is long gone.

You turn your head towards the younger one but Taehyung quickly asks. “Oh and what else did you buy?” Making you turn your head back to him, and Jungkook takes the chance to run his finger right under the straps of your dress and pulls it down, this time he wouldn’t resist the urge to put his lips right onto your shoulder to kiss you there making you flinch in your seat. “Jungkook?”

Taehyung nudges Jungkook from behind your back and laughs as he grabs your shot glass to hand it to you. “Here, have this.”

Jungkook adjusts his seat when he’s warned by the oldest and gets up onto his feet. “Should we put on some music?”

“Oh yeah, totally.” Taehyung walks towards Jungkook as they start flipping through their playlist to start the music, you grab your glass and drink the shot before putting it down, you’re already feeling lightheaded and your fingertips are on fire for some reason. You rarely had tequila unless you were going out with your friends or partying, tonight was neither of the occasions but it’s doing things to your body.

You lean back onto the couch and close your eyes for a second, you flinch again when you feel a set of hands on your shoulders. “Here, let me help you relax.” Jungkook stands behind you and rubs your shoulders, moving down to your neck and rubbing your skin, slowly but surely approaching again to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your body and spine. “Mmm.”

You’re definitely conscious but totally not oriented anymore, your tolerance for alcohol wasn’t really good so you got drunk way too fast. “Let me help you take those off.” Taehyung gets down on his knees, grabbing your foot in his hand and unbuckling your sandals to take them off, gently rubbing your feet that are heating up as well. He presses one kiss onto your ankle with his eyes locked onto yours and moves up to your calves.

“Mmm.” Rings in your ear when Jungkook fondles with the straps of your dress again, this time briefly pulling it down to reveal your shoulders and a little bit of your cleavage, licking there and nibbling small bites all over your skin. “Shit.” Barely escapes your mouth, you can’t keep up with both at the same time, especially when Taehyung has already reached your thigh and he’s biting onto you too. He pulls back and stands up again. “Let’s take her to bed Jungkook.”

And Jungkook doesn’t think twice before yanking his shirt off, Taehyung grabs you by your hands and walks you towards the bedroom that seems to be prepared and it hits you right now that this was planned for. You look around the room to see three tripods set up on the corners of the room which makes you turn to look at Taehyung. And what even possessed you? You shoot a smirk at him and tilt your head. “Are we filming this?” And by the way, the sober you wouldn’t have accepted this at all.

Did they even put something in your drinks? Of course they can’t, you only blame the tequila for this.

“Yeah.” Taehyung throws off his top too and walks behind you to put his hands onto your hips, pulling you close to him, “Do you see Jungkook right there?”

“Mhm.” You stare at the youngest, you’ve seen his body all the time at work but this time it’s making you wet when you see him topless with a boner begging to be released from his sweatpants. “Jungkook has been thinking about you the entire time, wanting to make you feel good just like I did before, and we can’t let him down, can we?”

“What do you say princess?” Jungkook walks closer, rubs his nose against yours and bites onto your lower lip. “I think I can fuck you better than he did.”

Your body is heating up again and your face is bright red when you’re sandwiched between the two, Taehyung’s clothed erection poking your ass and Jungkook’s erection poking your lower stomach. “No blindfolds this time.” Your condition makes Taehyung giggle from behind you before he collects your hair away from your neck and whispers. “No blindfolds this time.”

Jungkook’s tattooed hand grazes onto the skin of your thighs before it lands right onto your covered cunt, his lips that are hovering over yours curl into a smirk when he feels your cunt pulsating against the moist thin piece of fabric, he presses his hand to locate your clit and proceeds to rub it in circular motion, his lips finally connecting to yours for a single kiss. “That’s it.” Taehyung whispers from behind you, his hands still on your hips and slowly scrunching up your dress in his hands to reveal your little white panty, his hands grope onto the flesh of your ass tightly leaving trails of his fingernails.

You throw your head back against Taehyung’s chest when Jungkook’s fingers move faster. Jungkook knows the female body well too, so with a quick glance to your chest that rises faster he can tell you’re already aroused enough and ready to cum any second now, but he can’t let you cum right now, the night is still young and he’s planning to fuck your soul out of your body.

He pulls back and takes off his sweatpants, Taehyung throws your dress off and takes a seat onto the bed, and just like the first time, he butters up his bread by holding your hand to come closer and sit onto his leg, cupping your face closer to kiss you, your lips parting for his tongue and your hands holding his head slowly making your way to scratch the back of his hair softly. Taehyung’s hands are slowly moving to your back to unclasp your bra and reveal your swollen tits.

Jungkook gets into the bed and leans his head against the headboard. “Come here princess.” Jungkook seems to be a lot softer than Taehyung and you clearly remember hearing the girls from the staff mentioning that he was romantic and sweet in bed.

But you also heard one of the girls mentioning that she couldn’t walk after she spent a night with these two. Well at least tomorrow you have the day off so you can rest.

You obey and climb the bed, crawling on your hands and knees towards Jungkook and he pulls you in for a kiss again, his hands moving down to his own boxers to palm his boner. “I wonder if my dick can fit in that little mouth, do you think we can try?”

And you hook your fingers onto the top of his boxers and pull them down slowly, his hardened cock escaping it and almost hitting you in the face making you giggle. Again, you blame the alcohol.

You grab his cock into your hand while locking your eyes into his, stroking it gently and licking the tip once, you were too distracted with what’s in your hand to not focus on Taehyung, who’s already fully naked and climbing on the bed too, positioning his head between your legs, his arms hook around your thighs and he pulls you fully down to land on his face.

It drives Jungkook feral when he sees your eyes slowly closing and your jaw dropping down at the contact of Taehyung’s warm mouth to your clit. He grabs his own cock and the back of your hair, pointing the tip to your lips and slowly pushing your head down to take more of his cock into your mouth. “Mmm.” Your other hand lands onto the bed and you grab the bed sheets into your fists when Taehyung wraps his mouth around your clit. It was so arousing and you almost feel like this is too good to be true.

The tip of Jungkook’s cock hits the back of your throat making him gasp and pull you away. “You look so fucking beautiful with that cock in your mouth. Hyung get the camera.”

You whine when you feel the warmth of Taehyung’s mouth drifting apart from your cunt, he gets up and takes one of the cameras off of the tripod and hands it to Jungkook. The youngest grabs the camera and points it towards you, he doesn’t bother looking at you when he can clearly see your face from the tiny screen on the camera.

His grip gets tighter on your hair and he pulls you down to suck onto his cock again, bobbing your head up and down still not reaching your throat. And in the meanwhile Taehyung gets back in his earlier position and wraps his mouth around your cunt, flicking his tongue against your entrance and even pushing it inside to stretch your pussy with it, your back arches when he sucks onto your clit like there’s no tomorrow, you try and move your hips away from him but he hugs onto your legs making you fully sit on his face.

“Mmm.” Jungkook’s cock is making you choke on words and you can barely make a sound specially when he pushes further inside your mouth, this time the tip poking your uvula and making you gag and try to pull back, his grip onto your hair tightens and he pulls you up, zooming in with the camera to show the strings of your saliva connecting your mouth to his cock that’s already leaking precum. “You’re doing so good princess, do you think you could do it again?”

“Fuck.” Is all you manage to moan off of the top of your lungs when you feel Taehyung’s fingers enter your pussy, slowly curling them against your spot and thrusting them in and out, your wetness already covering his fingers and dripping down his palm. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and swallows the two digits inside which makes Taehyung mumble. “Fuck.” Your pussy was getting greedy for more.

Jungkook pushes his cock back into your mouth and moves his hips up to meet your lips, your eyes shut tightly and your tears stream down your cheeks when you gag again this time audibly, making Taehyung spank you on the ass and dig his fingers into your flesh. “Good fucking girl, Ugh.. that’s it.” Jungkook was pretty vocal in bed.

Your hand lands onto his big thigh and tap it repeatedly, begging for him to pull out so you can catch a breath, and he pulls back to watch you gasp for a breath, your nails dig into his skin and you look onto his lips, feeling over stimulated from the man that’s sitting between your legs. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” If you’d only see how you looked in the camera, it was phenomenal.

“What do you say Jungkook, should I make her cum?” Taehyung asks, pushing one more digit into your thirsty pussy making you scratch onto Jungkook’s skin, your hips slowly grinding against his fingers. “Please make me cum.” You beg, holding onto Jungkook’s dick into your hand and stroking it. “Please.”

“Don’t make her cum.” Jungkook throws the camera down and gets up to switch positions with Taehyung, sitting behind you with your ass facing him, he spanks you on the ass again and buries his face into your ass, licking your puckered hole and teasing your entrance with his fingers, “Holy fuck.” You reach your hand back to hold onto his long dark hair and push him closer into your ass, in the mean time Taehyung grabs your face into his hands and pulls you in to kiss you once before whispering. “Do you think it’s fair if you blow his dick and don’t blow mine?”

He strokes his cock and points the tip to your mouth and gets a tight grip of your hair, before thrusting his hips up to meet your mouth, repeatedly fucking your mouth and the only sound you can hear is your throat clicking with each thrust, and Jungkook’s hums as he savors your juices that are flooding out of your cunt. He swears he’s never tasted a pussy like yours.

You’re already fucked, your cunt was clenching around Jungkook’s tongue with each gag you release, your fingernails are digging into Taehyung’s thighs and your throat is done for today. Taehyung pulls back just to observe your fucked up face and it scratches the itch inside him to see you like that, all messy and drooling from being fucked in the face by his cock.

“Come here.” He lays down completely on the bed and pulls you away from Jungkook’s grip, his hand reaching down to massage your entrance with the head of his cock and smacking it against your wetness. Jungkook sits up behind you and strokes his dick too before pointing it to your butt hole, your soul escapes your body when they both enter you at the same time and you could swear you see stars.

The magical stretch in your pussy caused by Taehyung sends you to heaven, and it’s more arousing to him when he feels your cunt hogging his dick and clenching around it, slowly pushing more inside you until he’s balls deep, not giving you a second to adjust. His eyes are locked onto your face when your body stiffens, he could easily pound into you all night and he’ll still be hungry for more.

And the cherry on the top was the stretch you feel in your ass, Jungkook whimpers and grips tightly onto your ass when he feels how tight your hole was around his cock, it drives him insane enough that he feels himself seconds away from painting your insides with his seed, he takes a second to breath before pushing in further inside, he grits onto his own teeth and throws his head back. “You’re fucking incredible princess.”

And you, goodness you were doomed, your entire spine stiffens when Jungkook enters you more but your back arches when Taehyung gets balls deep inside you, this is so overwhelming to you and you never tried this, it takes a single twitch from Jungkook’s cock inside you to make you cum, Taehyung being the first one to notice when you clench around him smirks, he grabs your face closer and laughs. “Your princess is creaming on my cock.” He tells Jungkook, and Jungkook is not even listening he’s in his own world.

Both of them start moving in and out of you in sync to fuck you through your orgasm, you can barely balance on your own hands so your entire upper body lands on top of Taehyung, your silent cries in his ears are more than enough evidence that you’re as aroused as they are. “Don’t stop.” Is what you manage to say, one hand barely moving behind you to grab Jungkook’s thigh and dig into his skin too. “Please..”

Both of them pound into you not giving you a break after your orgasm, only minutes after you feel yourself building pressure on the inside and you know you’re about to cum again if they don’t stop. “Shit.” You whine when you feel Jungkook pulling out of you, he taps Taehyung on the thigh once and they switch positions again.

This time Jungkook enters your vagina and Taehyung pushing into your ass making you scream off of the top of your lungs, Taehyung proceeds to fuck you in the ass endless when he knows you’re prepped enough for him to pound into you fearless. But for Jungkook, it takes him a second to appreciate how your cunt wraps around his cock, he grabs your head into his hands and pulls you in to kiss you, pressing his forehead against yours and slowly making his own pace to move inside you.

“Mmm, fuck.” Your fist clinches the bed sheets behind Jungkook and you look him in the eyes. “You’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Cum for me princess.” He wraps his fingers around your neck and finally starts moving inside you, the friction from both dicks hitting your spots over and over makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head and again you lose your balance and land on Jungkook, he wraps his arms tightly around your body to get a better grip and pounds into you again, Taehyung on the other hand is seconds away from busting a nut and he’s debating in his head whether he should cum inside you or not, Jungkook’s penetration is making your ass tighten around Taehyung’s cock and it feels fucking insane inside you. And to make you cum faster he reaches his hand down to your clit to rub it in a circular motion.

“Fuck, fuck…” This was your end, your back arches one last time and you squirt against Jungkook’s dick hard enough to push him out, Taehyung still rubbing your clit and fucking your ass through your orgasm, your body shudders and you suffer to catch a breath again.

Jungkook is milliseconds away from reaching his end as well, he gets up onto his feet and grabs you by your wrist to pull you down onto the floor onto your knees. Both of them stand right by your face and stroke their dicks a couple last times before releasing their load onto your face and neck, and you don’t know what is it but you can’t like the taste of it whatsoever, this time luckily you didn’t gag like the time before, you were able to control yourself.

Taehyung as usual, gets into the bathroom and you hear the shower water running, but Jungkook… He stayed.

Even when there’s another bathroom and he could easily go shower, but he decided to stay, he grabs a nearby towel and a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and wetting the towel to clean your face gently, he goes down onto his knees still breathless and whispers. “I think you deserve to be taken care of after giving me one of my best fucks ever.”

You barely laugh and hug your arms closer to your body to cover it, he hands you the water bottle and helps you take a couple of sips. “Are you feeling okay?” He can see your hands shaking.

“Mhm, I’m just sore, that’s all.” You look around the room trying to locate your dress, Jungkook follows your eyesight and stands up. “I’ll go grab your dress.”

Of course you were thankful that he’s here but still, he doesn’t owe you anything and you could easily clean yourself up and just go home, but he grabs your clothes and helps you put them back on, “Thanks.” You grab the bed for support but Jungkook helps you up. “Jungkook call her a cab.” You hear Taehyung from the bathroom, but Jungkook rolls his eyes and leaves the bedroom to put his clothes back on. “Come, I’ll drive you.”

“You know you don’t have to.”

“Come on Y/N, let’s go.”

Monday comes in a blink of an eye, you were feeling a lot better and this time you didn’t need the painkillers, it seems like you’re slowly getting used to it and honestly you don’t like the fact that you are.

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when you remember the fact that you were filmed that night, but hey come on, what’s the worst that could happen? You’ll just end up on his phone like any other content. You can’t deny you’re a little embarrassed, not only you were filmed, but you had your first threesome ever that night, it felt good and all but it was with the guys you work with and you have to see this morning.

You promised yourself sincerely that this cannot happen again no matter what, you know it can cause trouble for the two of you, well right now it’s for the three of you, but it can’t happen again and you have to keep your promise to yourself.

“We’re starting in 10 minutes.” The producer shouts for everyone, and you finish your last touches on Taehyung with the sitting spray. “You’re all good.”

“Thank you.” He leans forward towards the mirror to check out his face. “What do you think about that night?”

“Not bad, but it can’t happen again.” You carefully whisper low enough so you can’t be heard.

“I know right? I don’t think I liked the attention stolen away from me—“

“No Taehyung. The whole thing in general, it can’t happen again.”

“Let me help you change your mind, come here.” He leaves his chair and grabs your wrist to pull you out of the makeup room into another room in the studio. “Remember the first time we slept together? Back in London.”

“Yeah.” How could you forget?

“Don’t be mad, but I filmed us having sex.” He looks at you, waiting for your face to change, and you giggle in disbelief. “Of course you didn’t, I didn’t see any cameras.”

“Well practically, you were blindfolded in the first half.” He shrugs and opens the movie on his phone, thinking he did something he’s going to be credited for, or thinking he did you a favor and you’re going to thank him any second now.

But cold sweat washed through your entire body, your limbs feel numb gradually all the way from your fingers to your shoulders, your ears are buzzing and you’re practically dizzy at the view you see. “You can’t be serious.”

The look of disbelief in your face was genuine. A couple days ago you were filmed with your consent, but that time you were filmed behind your back?

“Just watch it before you say anything, you’re gonna love it.”

“Why would you do that?” 15 minutes into the video you ask him, your hands barely able to hold onto his phone, at the point the amount of sweat your body released was enough to make you dehydrated, you kept swallowing repeatedly but your throat was dry.

“Well… you agreed to be filmed the other day didn’t you?”

“Oh so that makes it okay to do it?” You argue. “Is this why you blindfolded me? So I wouldn’t see you filming?”

“Y/N you’re being delusional.” The audacity on this man to gaslight you.

“Delusional? How exactly am I delusional?” You push him. “Taehyung you literally filmed me without my consent, this isn’t delusional this is a fucking crime.”

He breaks into laughter, totally unbothered to look back at you. “Relax, I’ve already showed you content on my phone and yours will be like any of them, it just stays on my phone for reference, whether it was the one from London or the other night.”

“Yeah, it means you’re showing it to your next victim.” You shut your eyes tightly still wishing this is a nightmare of some sort. “Okay, let’s just calm down and choose the easy way out, delete them both.”

He scoffs at you as it you just told him a joke. “Of course I won’t, in fact next time we’re filming it again.”

“Let’s be clear, there will be no next time. And I’m in this video, don’t you think I have a say in it? Please delete it.”

“Well, I filmed, produced, and was in the video, I get a say in it too.” He finally gets up. “And honey, there will be a next time, and you will be filmed, otherwise, you’re not going to be happy with I might do.”

“You can’t force me Taehyung.” You take a step back, “Oh no, I’m not going to force you god forbid, you’re going to willingly come to me and ask to be filmed Y/N, and it’s for your own good.”

You watch him unlock his phone and replay the video again, this time your face is on full reveal right after you took your blindfold off. “I don’t think your family would be happy when they see their daughter being fucked till she can’t walk, and most importantly, I don’t think your superiors are going to be happy when they see you fool around with an idol.”

Oh my god, how did you not see this coming?

Of course someone who begs girls to get into bed and films them doesn’t just film them for his own pleasure. He films them all just to blackmail them into sleeping with him again, and obviously it worked on anyone.

But it can’t work on you, you’re smart and you will probably figure your way out of this at some point.

“I’m blindfolded and cuffed in the video you dumb fuck, it’s very clear I was the one forced into this.” Except you weren’t forced into this and that’s where the major problem is. You willingly went to his room and you agreed to sleep with him, and oral consent legally counts. And the other night the camera was right onto your face and you were totally okay with it. It’s partially your fault too for agreeing to go into this.

He turns the volume up with a smug smirk on his face as he proves to you that you weren’t forced into this.

“I need to cum. Taehyung please, don’t stop.”

“Again, please, do it again”

“Do you wanna be fucked or not?”

“Yes please.”

“But isn’t this you begging to be fucked?” He takes a step closer and you quickly snatch his phone and throw it across the studio which makes him get a grip of your wrist and forcefully push you to face the wall. “Listen sweetheart, we both know how much of a slut you are, you agreed on going through this willingly but we’re finishing this my way, so be a good girl and act smart for once.”

“Taehyung let go.” The tight grip on your forearm hurts, you tried to fight and push him away but you couldn’t when his body is fully pushed against you. “Please let go.” Your voice has already gone shaky, worried he’d do something to you or even hurt you more than he already did.

He could easily kill you and no one will find out considering everyone else was occupied on the set.

“Tomorrow night, I’m texting you the location, be there at 8, otherwise, it’s going to be a serious problem and you don’t want your life to be destroyed don’t you? I could just post that video and no one would look at you the same ever again, you’d lose your job and no one is going to hire you.” He feigns kindness and tugs your hair behind your ear before caressing the side of your face and pressing a kiss onto your cheek. “And I know you’re smart enough to not let that happen.”

You look at him over your shoulders as your tears roll down your cheek. “Save your tears, any attempts of messing around, I want you to keep in mind that I have several copies of that video.”

“What did I ever do to you?” You question him, wondering if you actually did anything to him before that he needs to take his revenge this way but no, you two always kept it professional but the way this man was built was unlike any other man.

A toxic grown up who uses his position, if it’s considered one, to blackmail women and manipulating them into fulfilling his weird kinks willingly. It sucks that you too fell into his trap.

He collects his phone and tilts his head while laughing psychotically. “My god, you actually look scared right now, you realize you don’t have to be, right? Don’t you trust me?”

Clearly not.

“Oh I get it, since this clip clearly contains you showing up to my room back in London, hmm.. a staff member showing up to an idol’s room, this obviously means that you were trying to persuade me into something, or worse, it could look like you’re actually seducing me.” He looks around pretending to think. “If that were the case I guess people should probably know, they might just go ahead and fire you and you’ll be labeled for the rest of your life as the staff member who actually harassed the idol.”

“What are you? And how are you hiding all of this?” Your chest heaves, the man has already planned anything ahead of time and he clearly knows how to set you up if you don’t show up to your sex appointment, but it wasn’t only you who’s threatened. These exact same words were told to everyone, hence they all slept with him again and again.

“I don’t want this video out either, but it’s all up to you right now baby.” He puts on his shirt and collects his stuff. “See you tomorrow.” He presses another kiss to your cheek and leaves the workout room leaving you standing against the wall helpless.

You don’t know what’s next, but you surely know that you can’t have sex with him ever again and you need to earn yourself time before tomorrow to be able to figure out a plan.

How come girls are treating him well even when he blackmailed them? They all slept with him but they never warned each other, gosh you’re starting to think that maybe you should talk to someone about this maybe they could help.

Help? How exactly when they fell into this trap before you and they surrendered to it and chose to agree and sleep with him again. You collect your stuff and head back home, you need to think or probably sleep on it before figuring an actual solution that will get you out of this.

Yeah, sleep on it, you scoff when it’s already past 3 in the morning and you’re still flipping in your mattress. It’s killing you that you’re totally clueless and nothings comes to your mind other than just give up and sleep with him again to save your career and your reputation.

You take your phone out and fully decide on texting him.

3:27 | You.

What do you want from me?

You’re crossing your fingers hoping that he’s awake, you see the read receipts within a minute before he calls you and you answer right away, you can’t waste anymore time.

“Why are you still up?”

“What do you want from me Taehyung?” You sit up adjusting the pillows behind your back. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You’re making a big deal out of it.” He sounds like he’s half asleep. “You should be grateful that I’m just asking for sex nothing more.”

“You’re blackmailing me just for sex? Taehyung you literally slept with a countless amount of women, you can go sleep with any of them and just forget what we had.”

“Listen, I don’t have much time to argue about this, just do as I say and be there tomorrow—“

“I’m not gonna be there.” You argue right away, shrugging your shoulders as if he can see you.

“Oh really?” He scoffs. “Listen sweetheart, I’m sending the location right now, be there at 8, otherwise you know what’s going to happen.”

“You know what? You’re an obsessive piece of shit and you need to get help.” You hang up and throw your phone away.

Okay think, Y/N. Think.

He could easily post the video and you will easily lose your job and your reputation, but at the same time, what has he got to lose? There must be a way to stop this but you’re still not thinking well.

You were never an over thinker but tonight you are, imagining what would actually happen if he ended up posting the video, what would your agency think? What would his fans think?

Exactly.

He’s in the video too he can’t post it otherwise it would harm him too, you’re in the video cuffed and blindfolded, but he’s in the video spanking you with an actual belt and even slapping you and that’s considered assault. And the video from a couple nights ago, you’re a helpless woman sandwiched between two grown up men, it’s pretty clear that you were talked into it.

But you also need to set him up somehow, you’re thinking that you may have to go tomorrow night just to convince him that you’re okay with what he wants. You need to plan this carefully in order to take him down.

You have something, or an idea on how you’re going to set him up, but it’s going to cost you an extra night with him and you just have to force yourself in order to protect your career and what’s left of self worth.

“Good morning.” He enters the room and takes his top off, they’re filming another episode of their variety show before heading out to film something overseas next week. The rest of the staff get to work and you do too, putting the headband on to pull his hair back. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

He looks at your reflection for a second, your call ended last night with you calling him ill so he wasn’t sure if you were talking to him. “Oh yeah?” He sounds suspicious.

“Mhm.” You look around and lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I was watching this movie, and it made me want to try some things out with you.”

He was quickly lured into the subject and he low key thinks you’re being for real, he may be smart and shit, but he’s still a man, and men are so easy to seduce. He smirks and turns his head to face you. “What is it?”

“Remember when we discussed slapping before? You told me that I could ride your uhm.. you know.” You’re truly disgusted with yourself, are you really doing this?

Jungkook is watching your reflection through the mirror and he can see you inching forward to whisper into his ear which makes Taehyung bite onto his lip and close his eyes. “Yeah, we could totally do that, but hey what made you change your mind?”

Not only Jungkook is watching, but the rest of the girls on the staff are now sure that you two or onto something, and they pity you thinking you don’t already know who the real Taehyung is.

You print a kiss onto his ear and pull back, he looks up onto your lips and bites his own before whispering. “I could fuck you raw right here on this chair and I don’t care what people might say.”

You fake a giggle and continue doing your job, secretly wishing you could just stab him in the eye with a makeup brush or probably suffocate him with the band around his head. You feel your eyes filling up with tears. You can’t do this, it can’t happen again.

Taehyung hasn’t had enough time to produce the second movie of your night with Jungkook, his fogged up drunk brain from the other night recalls picking up the cameras and throwing them into his handbag and just going home, too tired to even transfer the files to his iPad or even think about editing them.

Luckily it’s all saved on the memory card so he kept procrastinating until he had enough time after finishing his schedule in the afternoon, he had to rent another B&B or a hotel room since he’ll never invite you to his own place, so he grabs his stuff and drives there to prepare anything and kill some time with editing.

He collects the three memory cards and starts digging through the files, but for some reason he can’t find them. He pouts in confusion and puts the memory cards back into the camera and opens it, searching through the filmed media, and weirdly enough, he can’t find a single video from that night.

Same thing goes for the other two memory cards, and nothing. Were the cameras never filming? Did they forget to press record?

There’s a reason why he has to be sober on nights like these, he needs to be conscious enough to be careful with what he does and how to handle his equipment.

He did in fact forget to press record, even the camera Jungkook had in his hand, there was nothing on it, none of the cameras were recording and you got lucky with that. There’s nothing to prove that you agreed to any of this.

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

Text

His Muse

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader Warnings: Yandere Bakugou, Obsessive Tendencies, psychoanalyst therapist reader, smut, extremely dubious consent, stalking, kindapping (tagging to be safe), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampies, kitchen sex, strength kink, threats of violence (not to reader). please let me know if I missed anything! Word Count: 6.5k Notes: this isn't a more violent yandere fic, and has lots of bargaining and dub con, just as a warning!! but I can't believe I came up with this idea in November omg I move so slow when it comes to full fics. also I tried gradient style for the title and I love it lol it was so fun to try. anyway, please enjoy!! Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI! Also available on ao3!

When Bakugou comes to you to be his therapist, you don’t think twice about it. He filled out his application correctly, he answered when you called, his insurance went through, his problems sounded legit. You had become wary taking on new patients in your field—dealing with criminals, those with hardened and extensive records, people with all kinds of issues that an everyday therapist wouldn’t be able to handle accordingly. But you did it all (someone had to), so your vetting process was a little heavier than usual, if the therapy wasn’t state mandated.

But Bakugou Katsuki passed with flying colors. If anything, he sounded a little too normal for your line of work, but he kept promising that his issues would be better discussed during sessions. With a little hesitance, you agree and take him on.

He’s…okay, for the most part. A little gruff, rough around the edges and snappy when you try to touch on certain topics of his life. But in general, he’s a great patient; he pays on time, shows up five minutes early, doesn’t linger when your next patient comes buzzing, doesn’t try to touch you or seek out personal information from you.

If anything, he still seems a bit too strait-laced for you. That is, until he starts to delve into why he really wants to come to therapy—to deal with his tendencies of rage, lashing out, and obsession. You had told him that you didn’t deal much with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but he had assured you that, no, his obsessions and compulsions weren’t about checking the locks a certain amount of times on a Wednesday, but instead about people.

He obsessed over people, and when things wouldn’t go his way, his rage would rear its ugly head. He still hasn’t told you what his rage specifically looks like, especially with how he momentarily glances over at your little message pinned on your wall that warns people about admitting criminal acts that you’d have to report, damn the confidentiality.

“When did these obsessions start?” You ask him, body tilted toward him even though your eyes and hands move to your open computer. You document what he says, take note of it all, skimming over previous notes from other appointments.

“Maybe about eighteen months ago?” Bakugou’s voice is gravelly, deep and grating against the column of his throat. As he answers, he shoves his hands in his sweats pockets, scoots down a little further on your adjacent couch, looks around the room as if he hadn’t been in here a few times before.

“So this is a more recent development?” You ask, humming under your breath and nodding when he grunts an affirmation. You type, obsessive tendencies over people started less than two years ago, could be trauma based, and you wonder if he can read the words through the reflection of your glasses when you look over to see his eyebrows screwed down.

“Was it sudden for you?” You cock your head to the side, before shaking your head. “Let me rephrase; did these tendencies ever show their faces in other aspects of your life? Different time periods, situations? Or was it just a sudden thing that happened, something you realized once the obsession had already begun?” He starts nodding his head before you can even finish, his ash blond bangs shadowing his eyes for a second in such a way that sends a prickle of chills up your arms. You don’t know why, so you try to swallow the feeling down until it burns at the back of your throat, shifting a little in your cushioned seat. Bakugou watches you for a second before he opens his mouth to speak.

“It was sudden.” He answers, plainly, doesn’t offer up much else until you cock an eyebrow at him, signaling for him to go on. He rolls his eyes and huffs under his breath, shifting again before he shrugs dramatically with his hands still in his pockets.

“I dunno, I was fuckin’ normal until I wasn’t.” You chuckle a little at his tone, crossing your legs under the desk, watching how Bakugou’s vermillion eyes dart down to catch the sight of them, before they slide back up to your face.

“You’ve been in a relationship before?” You state more than ask, eyebrows slid high on your face in question, watching Bakugou roll his eyes a little before he nods.

“Yeah.” He offers, his mouth set in a thin line, obviously not wanting to offer up too much information on the topic.

“How many?” You push. How the hell does he expect you to help him when he keeps giving you short answers, nothing to work with? Why even seek out your help if he acts like being here is such a nuisance to deal with?

“Two.” Bakugou says through gritted teeth, eyes cutting at the decorations you have hung on the walls. “What does this have to do with anything, anyway?” He spits, cuts his eyes at you once more as you narrow your own at him.

“I’m trying to find a connection between your sudden obsessive tendencies with your relationships with people in the world.” You clarify for him, sitting up a little in your seat as his own irritation bubbling off of him starts to sink into your pores, too.

“People rarely have sudden personality flips and switches with no leading causes beforehand. Did these tendencies start because of preexisting mommy issues that were suddenly uncovered after being repressed for years? Were you in a long and committed relationship, which ended in such a way that it wasn’t necessarily on your terms, even if it was ultimately your own call? Was it an accident you were in? Have you always been like this and never realized it? Do you understand what I’m saying, Katsuki?”

…

Bakugou isn’t taking in a single word that you’re telling him. He wishes he could; he’s sure you’re saying some real shit that he should most likely take into consideration. But its so hard to focus when you look at him like that, when your neck rolls a little with every word, when your foot bounces under the desk, the way your lips curve just so.

You’re the reason he’s even here right now. The bane of his fuckin’ existence, but also the only thing that matters to him in the world.

You are his obsession. His muse, his fantasy, his daydream turned reality. And it’s all your fucking fault. With how you prance around your home with your curtains open, wearing nothing but slutty little shirts and no bra, no pants, just panties that sink into the curves of your ass and thighs. How you just go about your life without a care in the fucking world, always so oblivious to everything around you.

You hadn’t even noticed him, the months he spent watching over you. Didn’t catch his lingering stares, or how his ash blond head of hair always seemed to be at least ten feet behind you with every step you took. How your long time neighbor from across the hall suddenly disappeared, how a new tenant moved in when he knew you’d be out. How you forget entirely too often to lock your door, to put your used panties in the hamper. How you tease him with everything, how you’ve been fucking leading him on for over a year and a half now.

So, he had to get desperate. Had to search you up and find what qualifications he needed in order to be seen by you, a psychoanalytical therapist for those who want to be reformed.

But Bakugou had no plans on reformation. There was nothing for him to be reformed on. He just wanted you, and goddamnit, if he wasn’t going to have you.

“I understand you, doc. Loud and clear.”

***

It was your day off, and you had plans on spending it in your bed, catching up on some reading and maybe finishing that one show you started a while ago. But, lunch time came around, and you were craving something specific and didn’t have all the ingredients that you needed. You figured you could go out to the grocery store to grab them, get some fresh air on the way there, and maybe stop at that book shop you had been eyeing for a while.

You get ready quickly, closing your front door behind you, pausing for a second to stare at the door across the hall. You still can’t believe Ms. Hayashi had so suddenly moved out, especially after living in this complex since it was first built. She hadn’t even said goodbye, and you never got the chance to return the Tupperware she lended you.

It wouldn’t have been as weird if someone hadn’t supposedly moved in the next day. You were a gossip with your landlord, a nice older lady, and she gave you all up the updates on the people who lived in the complex. She had said that he was a nice guy, kind of scary and intimating in stature, but respectful the whole time. Said that he didn’t even look at the apartment before giving her the first six months rent and despot in cash. She told you to ever call her if you smelled meth cooking from that apartment, as no one who works a regular job just has that kind of money laying around.

You shrug to yourself, coming to the conclusion that maybe the new owner just needed to get out of town, away from somewhere or someone else. Everyone has their reasonings, and you can’t analyze every single move someone you haven’t even met before has ever made.

You continue down the steps until you’re out of the building, unaware of the crimson eyes that follow your every movement. The walk to the store is a little longer than you’d like for it to be, but you figure that the exercise can do you some justice, and it’s always nice being out in nature. You stop and pick a flower that grows from a crack in the sidewalk, twirling it in your finger the whole way to the store, finally tucking it behind your ear when you have to grab a grocery cart.

And still—and still—you don’t see the eyes that watch you. The figure that follows your every move, that disappears behind walls and aisles every time you turn your back. You feel it though, he can tell, because you move a little quicker and look over your shoulder more than usual.

You go to the self checkout, trying to hurry now, as an uneasy feeling starts to wash over you. You get these often, especially working in the field that you do with the patients that you choose to take on—hardened criminals, fresh out of jail and still ready to harm society, people that just like to see the world burn for the fun of it.

The therapist is typically one of the first few people to be taken out, after parents. You’re always too high on the list for your liking, despite loving your job.

You keep trying to scan an item, but it’s not working, and that only makes your panic settle in deeper into your bones. You try to remember the techniques that you give people when they start to feel overwhelmed by their emotions and what goes on in their heads, but its hard when that sinking feeling only grows deeper and heavier by the moment until—

“Need some help with that?” You jump away quickly, eyes wide as you hold up the can of soup you were gripping tightly like a weapon. You let out a breath though, only in slight relief, to see that its one of your patients standing beside you—Bakugou Katsuki. He looks different than he usually does in your sessions together; he’s wearing a tight compression shirt that hugs his wide shoulders, navy blue in color, sweatpants that wrap around the thick muscles in his thighs, and plain running shoes.

For some reason though, the panic in your stomach doesn’t fully quell at the sight of him.

“No, I got it. Thanks though, Bakugou.” You tell him politely, smiling shakily. Why does the sight of him unnerve you so bad? You’ve run into patients before on the street, and they never make you feel like this, this uneasy, even when it was dark and you were dressed more scantily than you are now, with your baggy pants and too big shirt.

“You sure?” He grunts, cocking his head at you as he gently pries the can from your still tight grip. “I watched you struggle with it for like, two minutes. Let me.” He tells you, never taking his eyes off of you as he scans your item easily enough. He only looks away when he bags it for you, and starts to scan the rest of your things as if you weren’t standing there.

“Oh no, it’s okay, I can finish that myself.” You wave him off him with a shaky smile, finally breaking out of your stupor when he’s damn near finished. You reach out to stop him, but Bakugou only waves you away with a grunt.

“’S alright. It’s the least I can do for you helping me figure my crazy out.” Bakugou shrugs at you, a joke you’re presuming, as he glances over at you with a tiny lilt at the corner of his mouth. It calms you, only for a second, before something ever so slightly changes in his eyes, in the way he looks at you and takes you in, makes you feel like something sinister is sinking deep into your bones. Your stomach tightens again, and you have to force a smile when he finishes, before it drops when you see him reaching for his wallet.

“Oh, I really can’t let you pay for my groceries.” You tell him, stepping up to him before pausing when he looks at you out of the corner of his eye with an expression so terrifying, that it makes stone drop into the pit of your belly.

“Let me.” Bakugou tells you more than asks you, and you nod slowly, swallowing the thickness that has settled into the back of your throat. You can only watch as he pulls out a wad of cash, counting through it before inserting it into the machine, mouth set in a thin line all the while. You try to take him in, figure out where his own groceries are to be in this section, where all this money is coming from, if his address that he put on the file is even anywhere near this area.

It’s not.

“Cmon.” Bakugou snaps you out of your trance, big veiny hands holding all of your groceries as he nods his head to the exit. You’re stuck there, wondering if this is really happening, if these are just boundaries being crossed or a crime about to be committed. You feel tears stinging at your eyes as you try to blink them away, hiccuping slightly as you slowly shake your head.

“Please give me my groceries, Bakugou.” You don’t even recognize your own voice, soft and shaky and purely terrified. Bakugou fixes you with another deadly expression but this time—this time he smiles at you, and its everything but friendly. All big white teeth and too sharp incisors, all falsely charming and all weaponry, all threat with no escape from his drooling maw.

“I think we should go home, now. Don’t you?” He asks you with a cock of his head, body still turned to the exit, his stature eery with how the veins in his neck throb with every second you stay rooted in your spot. “Before something happens to these nice people in here, right? Before they have to bear witness to a massacre, all because you don’t want to walk home with me.”

You have to bite back your sob that bubbles up in your throat. You’re terrified of what will happen to you, but you’re a caretaker first. You have to put yourself before these people, put yourself before the monster that wants you as a sacrifice before he burns an entire village down for you.

So you nod, and take the hand offered to you as he switches the groceries to one hand, just to squeeze yours in the other.

You leave out of the grocery store with tears muddled in your eyes, a quivering chin that you try to conceal, hope no one wants to be a hero and find themselves hurt, or worse, because you can’t school your expressions.

This was taught in a psychology course you took in college, you remember. One of your classes after you started working on your highest degree—what to do in real life situations as a psychologist. How to avoid more conflict when a patient is erratic. How to deescalate. How to survive.

Everything you’ve ever learned has gone out the window now.

You and Bakugou walk down the street hand in hand, looking like a normal couple for the most part, besides your trembling jaw and shaky steps. You glance up to him, watching him squint in the sunlight before he glances down at you, squeezing your hand gently, as if to comfort you, as if he weren’t the cause of your panic. You notice that he’s walking right in the direction of your apartment, as if the route were memorized.

“How do you know where I live?” You ask shakily, mouth full of cotton as Bakugou keeps his head forward, grinning. He glances at you again, eyes bouncing between the delicate flower tucked behind your ear, and the terrified expression your eyes carry.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, doesn’t offer up anymore information until you stand outside of your building. “You know, for you to be a therapist to fuckin’ weirdos, you don’t watch your back good enough for my liking.”

You didn’t think your stomach could sink any lower, but it does. It does when the realization settles, when his words kick in—that he’s been watching you, but for how long? How could you not have noticed? Did he even contact you because he needed help, or was this only a way to grow closer to you, to his obsession?

Before you know it, Bakugou has walked you up the stairs until you reached your floor. Your body turns to instinctively to your door, but you’re pulled in the other direction.

“Wha—” you go to ask Bakugou, before you notice he’s set your groceries down to fiddle with the key to…to the apartment across the hall from you. You feel the tears flood again, letting them flow this time since no one is around to try and save you and put themselves in harms way anymore.

“It’s been you? This whole time?” You ask slowly, starting to pull away when Bakugou opens the door to Ms. Hayashi’s apartment, still decorated the same before she mysteriously disappeared—you don’t think its so mysterious anymore.

“Of course it’s been me.” Bakugou scoffs as he grips your hand tighter, pulling you closer until you near the doorway. “I had to watch over you—do you know how careless you are with everything? With your life?” He snarls, whirling around on you when you plant your feet and try to keep him from pulling you into his lions den. Bakugou is all snarls and teeth, invokes such a deep fear within you that you can’t help but shrink under his gaze.

“Now come on. I’ve been waiting for this for entirely too long.” His voice is downright salacious, eyes turning sharp and hungry, and in a way that makes you feel like nothing more than hunted prey.

Bakugou damn near drags you within the apartment, despite your whimpering and pulling at him—he’s just too strong. He walks you a few feet inside before he dumps the groceries on a coffee table, finally letting go of your hand so that he can lock the door, emerging a key from his sweatpants pocket to one of the many, many locks, an insurance policy of you never leaving him unless he allows it.

You try to put on your therapist boots for a minute, swallowing your fear as you try to reason with him, swallowing thickly when he turns around and takes your trembling form in.

“Bakugou,” you start shakily, “this doesn’t have to end bad for us. You can just let me go, and we can pretend this never happened. I won’t report you, or anything. Please, please, PLEASE!”

He comes rushing at you before you know it, on you in seconds, despite trying to turn and outrun him before he pounces. But it’s too late and he’s too big and too overwhelming, and he grabs you up in his arms, shushing your screaming with his mouth pressed against yours.

So this is what he wants, you think to yourself, terrified to say you’re slightly relieved. You’ve worked with men who liked to torture women for fun, and you were scared that he was secretly one of them, but it looks like he just wants—

“You.” Bakugou whispers with a swallow against your mouth, hot and breathy. “I want you so fuckin’ bad, wanted this for so long, fuck.” He’s wrapping you up within him in seconds, arms crushing your ribs, tongue sneaking into your mouth, hands grabbing handfuls of whatever he can reach.

You’re stunned, mostly. Finally putting the pieces together of everything that is Bakugou, his coming to you about his obsessions, his secrecy despite needing your help, the way he always looked at you, how he devours you now like a mere schoolboy. It all makes sense now. You pull away from him, eyes round and wide as you take in his lowered ones, how he dives back in to nip at your jaw and chin and cheek.

“I’m your obsession.” You whisper shakily, hands on his shoulders, despite them making no moves to move the large man back. Bakugou groans at that, damn near sinks to his knees at your realization, wraps you up even tighter as he buries his face into the skin of your neck.

“Fuckin’ finally. Thought you would’ve caught on sooner by now, dumbass.” He scolds you, licking up the expanse of your skin as you shiver and try to back away. But Bakugou only holds you tighter, and you whimper at the bulge that nudges your hip.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve—could’ve worked on exposure therapy, had someone there to monitor you for our safety, could’ve—”

“Too much work. I just want you.” Bakugou moans, nipping at your skin, grabbing handfuls of your ass when you squeak. He walks you backwards until your back meets a wall, the breath being knocked out of you as you gasp, eyes wide when he finally pulls away from your skin.

You’ve never seen him like this, all fucked out and relaxed and even a little excited. Always saw him with a bored or irritated expression, one of indifference. But now, Bakugou looks high on euphoria, with kiss swollen lips and low eyelids as he takes in your still shocked expression.

“Let me taste you,” Bakugou rushes out in a quick breath, diving in once more to lick at your mouth before he pulls away, big hands squeezing at your waist and ass excitedly. He’s like a dog with a bone, like a pup with no master, waiting for you to give the command, the permission to go.

You wonder if you have more control of this situation than you originally thought. So you try your hand, see how far you can push before you can wiggle your way out of this entire thing and get the chance to call the police.

“Bakugou,” you start, quickly being cut off by him with a sharp nip to your chin.

“Katsuki,” he corrects. You nod.

“Katsuki, if I—if I let you do this, this one thing of…of tasting me, will you promise to let me go?” You try to reason with him, cupping his cheek when his eyes wander over your form instead of your face, leaning into your touch instinctively.

“We can,” you pause with a swallow. “I can do this. I can create a therapy plan for you, for your obsession over me, and it can be fully consenting and healthy, but you have to let me help you and let me take control.” You try to reason with Bakugou, hope he understands what you’re saying, that he won’t catch on to this just being a trick. But he only groans and turns his head, sucking your thumb into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at your gasp before he releases you with a pop. He turns half lidded vermillion eyes to you, frowning as he rests his heavy head in your palm.

“Whatever you fuckin’ say, just let me taste you, goddamnit.” He mutters petulantly. You can only hold your breath, wonder if what you’re agreeing will hurt you in the long run before you nod.

“You can—you can taste me, Katsuki.”

You think you might’ve sealed the deal with a devil, with the way you can practically see horns protruding from his forehead and a tail flickering behind him when he drops to his knees. Bakugou is too quick for your liking, yanks your pants around your ankles too fast, hurries you out of them, rips your underwear away from your skin until it tears and falls limply in a pile on the floor.

You squeak when his face is suddenly pressed right against your cunt, his nose buried into your pubic hair, the sound of a big sniff echoing throughout the room. You can’t help but cringe, but don’t dare push him away—people need to be exposed to all aspects of things in order to overcome them, even if those things are sniffing what lies between your legs.

“Fuck, smells so good.” Bakugou grunts under his breath, huffing a few times before he forces your legs further apart until you can accommodate the wide expanse of his shoulders. You grunt from the stretch, trying to make yourself comfortable, but Bakugou picks up on it quickly, and grabs your knee to hike your leg over his shoulder to rest on.

It creates a better angle for him anyway, with your lips glistening with your arousal—you were aroused. Turned on by him just as much as he was with you. You were wet, even if it’s not as much as he would prefer, as he would get you to that amount in only a matter of time.

You throbbed when his tongue traced the hood of your clit, of your lips, your folds. You twitch hard against his mouth when he keeps licking and licking at you, until your slickness and his spit mingle and he doesn’t know where you end and where he begins. Until it makes a mess of his mouth and chin and the floor below him, and you, with your pretty moans and grabbing hands.

Bakugou has waited for this moment longer than he can really care to remember, at this point in time. Waited to worship you on his knees, be able to look up from between your soft thighs and see the scrunch of your brows when he sucks your clit between his lips and runs over it with the flatness of his tongue.

It’s an addictive feeling, really. Makes him feel higher than any drug could ever take him, makes his eyes roll back and his cock throb so hard that he has to grab it from beneath his sweats to keep from busting his load already.

You can only stand there and take it—take the incessant licking around your hole, and the dipping of his tongue inside of you, and the sweet little kisses he plants on your clit. You try to reason with yourself, convince yourself that this is an improvised session with a client that needed your help so badly that you decided to take him on your day off. Try to tell yourself that this is all apart of the therapy that he needs in order to get over you.

You only hope that the taste of you doesn’t become so addictive, that your plans for him will go flying out the window the moment you try to reason with him.

But its hard to reason even with yourself when Bakugou is sliding a thick, middled finger inside of your dripping hole as he noisily sucks your clit between his lips. You cry out at that, knees wobbling, but he’s there to catch you with his free hand, his shoulder. Holds you up steady like a pillar as he lashes his tongue against you, twists his finger, curves it slowly, before he’s adding another one before you can even register what’s happening to you.

“Shit, Katsuki,” you moan out, cursing yourself for letting him make you feel so good, for getting so wrapped up in this ‘therapy’. You can only hope that the board doesn’t take your license if they were to ever find out about it.

“Thats it, baby, ride my fingers just like that.” Bakugou breaks you out of your trance with his groan. You hadn’t even realize how your hips were moving against him, grinding down on his digits that curl up inside of you, that slide against that swelling spot that makes your knees weak and your eyes cross.

“Gods, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” Bakugou whispers against your mound, trailing spit from his mouth down to your clit once more, eyes never leaving the pleasured look on your face.

Did you know he imagined this, in damn near every session he’s ever had with you? While it wasn’t plenty of sessions (he had only started seeing you about six months ago), it was all he could think of. Every Tuesday at 2:45pm, in office number 218, first door on the right, the mint green office—all he could think of was you. Even when you asked him questions with a professional and friendly smile, even when you were covered head to toe, even when you ripped him a new one for his shitty answers and responses.

This was all he wanted, all he craved to see. The way your mouth dropped open when he starts damn near directing you in how he wants you to ride his fingers. How your hips move and swivel and tremble when he keeps bringing his fingers close to his face, inside of you. How you grip so tightly at his hair and pull when he won’t stop sucking and licking and messily kissing your clit. How he damn near makes out with your hole, tongue drooling and smacking against your soaked skin until he feels himself about to burst in his pants.

This was all he wanted, and Bakugou always gets what he wants. Even if its you—especially if it’s you.

“I’m—oh, I think I’m—shit!” Your brain is damn near fried when you start to orgasm, an earth shattering moan slipping from your throat as you throw your head back, hips bucking against Bakugou’s face and hands. He has to hold your entire body up steadily, fears that you may fall from how hard you’re coming, how you shake in his arms.

His fingers are steady inside of you, and only slows when you start to finally come down from your high. Bakugou kisses the inside of your thigh sweetly, nibbles at it when you groan and complain about feeling too weak from the intensity. But that’s not a problem for him at all.

“Hey—what are you—” Bakugou cuts you off with a wet kiss pressed to your mouth when he stands to his full height. His tongue slides against yours and you can’t help but moan when you taste yourself on him. He doesn’t give you a chance to step away and try to slink back to your own apartment, instead hoisting you up quickly in his arms as he starts to walk to a room behind you.

Before you can protest, you’ve been dumped on the kitchen table, Bakugou pressing you down with a hand to your sternum when you try to sit up, shooting you another one of those eery looks from earlier. You still instantly, before slowly lowering yourself back down on the table, eyes wide again when he levels you with a stare for a beat longer before he steps back to yank his shirt over his head.

“I thought,” you mumble, trying not to stare at how well built Bakugou is, how his biceps might literally be bigger than your entire head. “I thought that we agreed for you to only, um, taste me, and then you’d stop.” Its hard finding your voice when Bakugou stares at you like that again, not scarily, but hungry like before. Hard to fight back and push him away when he grabs your shirt in two hands and rips and pulls until your torso is exposed, like the fabric meant nothing to him.

You clench your thighs at the display of strength and hope that he doesn’t notice. (He does).

Bakugou shrugs at you, pulls your bra down until your tits are on display, grabbing a handful of each and massaging them in warm, sweaty palms. He ducks his head down and gives a sweet kiss to both of your nipples, licking one crudely before he stands back up to his full height, your breasts still in his hands. You think he must’ve forgotten what you said, or simply didn’t care to answer, but he surprises you when he squeezes your tits tightly and speaks,

“Think I need a little more exposure before I have to be reduced to doses only, doc.” Is all Bakugou gives you, squeezing your chest one last time before he pulls away. You try not to show the panic on your face when he reaches to pull his sweats down until they bunch around his corded thighs, cock damn near bursting from its confinements.

Bakugou reaches inside of his boxers, biting at his bottom lip when he touches it directly for the first time since he’s gotten you, groans a little at your gasp when he fully exposes himself. He’s thick, curved a little to the side, his head a dark flushed color, a fat vein forking up the side of his shaft. He rests his cock over you, makes a soft little noise in the back of his throat when the precum slides from his tip and pools in the dip of your bellybutton.

“Shit, I love you so fuckin’ much,” Bakugou mutters under his breath as he positions himself at your entrance. Your eyes bulge at his confession, but before you can even touch on what he’s said, he’s already sliding his way inside of you.

Your head falls against the kitchen table, the dull pain quiet compared to the overwhelming pleasure that settles low in your pelvis. You groan, thighs hooked around Bakugou’s waist as he fucks his way inside of you, a moan on his tongue as he watches the way your lips split and suck him inside so, so sweetly.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t wait anymore,” Bakugou mutters against your mouth. As he soon as he settles inside of you, he’s pulling out until his tip kisses your entrance, before he fucks his way back in. You shudder, his cock warm and heavy inside of you, his tip brushing against your sweet spot with every stroke until you start to cling to him and ask for more, more, more.

And Bakugou gives it to you, with feral growls, hiking your legs up higher until they rest on his shoulders, hunching over you with every wet slap of his balls against your ass. The position forces him even deeper, makes your feet dangle entirely too close to your face, Bakugou leaning over to kiss you sweetly on the ankle.

“So, fuck, what’s the diagnosis, doc?” Bakugou taunts you, grinning down at you when you blink bleary eyes up at him. He’s sweaty and golden and has a halo of light behind his ash blond hair from the overhead light. He’s prettier than you want to admit, but its hard trying to keep a face of professionalism when his cock keeps kissing your sweet spot and his chest pressed against yours makes your nipples harder than rocks.

“Huh? What happened to that fucking smart ass that would lecture me in our sessions?” He teases, smile wide and feral as he holds your cheeks tightly between his thick fingers. He forces your mouth into a pout, kissing it, when you blabber nonsense up at him.

“Fucked you dumb already? All those years of college right out the door, huh, baby?” Bakugou’s so mean, makes you whine and claw at his shoulders and nape. You could answer him, give him your professional opinion—not like you even had one in the first place—but he makes it so hard to think. When his cock is balls deep inside of you, when he looks at you with his teasing and yet adoring little grin, when he keeps shaking your face at him with a taunting coo, when he sneaks a hand between your bodies to circle your clit.

“It’s okay; I can think for you. You don’t have to use that pretty little head even once when you’re with me.” Bakugou’s coos sweetly, reaches down and pecks your forehead and mouth when you whimper pathetically up at him with teary eyes.

“Gonna cum? Yeah?” He asks you, hips never faltering as he fucks you into the table, his mouth pressed against yours as you grab him tightly, feeling the oncoming orgasm starting to flood your system.

“Yeah,” you whine softly against his mouth through your puckered lips, making Bakugou groan as he fucks you through your orgasm. You tighten up around him so deliciously, sound so pretty with your fucked out moans and hoarse voice, look so gorgeous all high out of your mind and pliant on his kitchen counter.

How could he ever remember to pull out?

You try to protest when Bakugou holds you tight and starts to cum inside of you, but your complaints fall on deaf ears. He only holds you tighter against him, groaning loud in the skin of your neck as his cock spurts his hot seed deep inside of you. When he finishes, he collapses on top of you, breathy and sweaty, and you’re in no better position. Its quiet for a while, despite your legs and back aching, and the cooling feeling of his cum starting to spill from around his softening cock still buried inside of you.

“So,” Bakugou starts, and you’re almost fearful of what he might say next. “Can you start scheduling my appointments to your apartment instead of your office now?”

You’re at least a little thankful that he has plans to let you go back to your life, even if he’s forcing himself to be apart of every little aspect of it. You nod tiredly, wondering how and if you’re going to tell your boss.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬#tw: yandere #tw: stalking #tw: dubcon

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hotgirlgraps · 4 months

Text

love language

18+ (nothing but smut)

Tyler sat on the edge of the bed watching as you in front of the mirror attempting to do your hair, but continuously getting too caught up in the story you were telling him to stay focused on it.

You were a little fired up to say the very least, and even though you were supposed to be heading out in less than fifteen minutes, he didn’t feel like it was the best idea to remind you of how short on time you were.

“So then what happened?” He asked before taking another glance at the time on his phone.

“So then!” You turned to face him with the straightener in hand, pointing it at him. “I pulled the place up on my gps, and it says I’m only ten minutes away, so I’m like, okay cool let me just keep walking right?”

“Right.” He nods. He’s doing his best not to snicker at how you’re animatedly waving the straightener around.

“So I turn where the gps says to, and it keeps telling me to turn around. There’s so many people on the sidewalk just watching me literally walk in circles for five minutes. I’m pretty sure one guy was laughing dead at me.”

“No.” He exaggerates, failing to keep a straight face.

You shoot him a look before you wave your hand. “Anyway, I finally get sick of walking in circles and I ask someone if they know where the building is. You know what they tell me?”

“What did they tell you?”

“That building moved to the next city over months ago. The gps still had the old address. I had like, five minutes to spare before my appointment time and I was about thirty minutes away.” You huff before you turn back to face the mirror.

Tyler remains quiet, his smirk still evident on his face as he gets off the bed and walks over to you. It was hard to stay aggravated when you felt his arms wrap around your waist.

“Sounds like you had a stressful day.” He mumbles into your shoulder, placing soft kisses to your skin. “I have a few different ways I can make it better though.”

You lolled your head to the side and let his lips roam from your shoulder to right below your ear, immediately sending tingles down your body when his lips peppered your sensitive skin.

“Aren’t we supposed to leave soon?” You asked, barely paying any attention to the hair you were absentmindedly straightening.

“We can be a little late.” He hums against you as his hands caress your hips.

You spun around in his arms and placed the straightener down on the dresser before you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

You felt your back against the dresser as he pressed his body against yours, his hands sliding underneath your shirt to feel the softness of your skin.

“Better yet-“ He whispered against your lips. “Let’s just forget about going out tonight and enjoy some time to ourselves. It’s been a minute.”

You couldn’t deny the fact that it sounded like a great idea. He was right, it had been a while since you were able to just stay in and spend time together. His schedule and yours never mixes well.

“What’s gonna happen when you get hangry?” You teased, and he smirked as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the bed.

“I have a full course meal right here.” He slid his tongue between his plump lips, smirking once more when a tinge of rose flushed over your cheeks.

He lifted your shirt and tossed it elsewhere, then slid the bra straps off your shoulders and peppered more warm kisses in their previous place. You ran your hands down his bare torso, feeling the warmth of his skin and the rigid muscles beneath your palms.

He unlatched your bra and let it fall to the floor before he bent down and cupped your breasts, placing open mouthed kisses all over your chest until he was sure he left no piece of skin unkissed.

Your fingers ran through his hair, gently tugging to encourage him as he trailed the kisses down your stomach.

You looked down at him when he lowered himself to his knees, and he was already looking up at you. His fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts and he slowly slid them down to your ankles before helping you step out of them, and sliding them off with all your other discarded clothes.

You sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned back on your elbows, your head falling back when you felt his warm lips place more open mouth, wet kisses to your inner thighs.

You felt the anticipation arising at an uncontrollable pace, so much so that it was nearly impossible not to whimper out of pure neediness. You felt him smirk against you, already knowing he was enjoying seeing you so impatient.

He brought one leg up to rest over his shoulder as he trailed his path of kisses up the other one, leaving no piece of skin unloved by those lips.

You reached down for him, your hand finding his hair and nails raking through it. He took that as his sign to stop teasing and you knew it when you felt his tongue lick a solid stripe up your inner thigh, just before he cupped his lips around your clit and suckled pulsations that made your entire body immediately buzz with a million wild nerves.

Your back hit the mattress before it arched off the bed. One hand kept a tight grip on his hair while the other one clawed at the sheets like your life depended on it.

He flicked his tongue at an incomprehensible speed, making you see dazzling stars behind your eyelids. You attempted to squirm back but he wrapped his arms underneath your thighs and pulled you right back, keeping you locked in place as he worked his magic on you.

You peered your eyes open, only to find that the ceiling was an absolute blur. You were pretty positive that you were already so close, and Tyler could tell by the way your thighs started to tremble.

He kept you in place with one arm before he inserted two fingers, curling them roughly against your sweet spot that he always seemed to effortlessly find. Your eyes screwed shut and mouth dropped open, letting a series of incomprehensible whimpers and moans fly through the air.

Your back arched off the bed again, and he didn’t miss a single beat. He felt you clenching down around him, felt your walls throbbing against his fingers and he used that to his advantage.

The sounds of your juices sloshing against his fingers exemplified when he sped them up. His tongue was lapping at an unforgiving pace and you were doing everything you could not to nearly scream his name for everyone in the hotel to hear.

Your body buzzed, so much so that you could feel your skin vibrating. You were so close to the edge that you could practically taste it and as soon as you finally found that impending high he was aiming to bring to you, all of your senses were suddenly washed over with nothing but complete bliss.

Your ears were ringing, you couldn’t even hear the high pitched moans that were flying through your lips. You felt your blood rushing strong through your veins, a sensation so riveting you couldn’t even put it into words if you tried.

Tyler’s eyes snapped up to watch you. He reveled in the way you completely came undone anytime he works his magic on you. The way your body responds to him, and the way he can easily bring you to that earth shattering high like its second nature for him never fails to make him feel like he’s on top of the world.

He rides you through it as the pumps of his two fingers slow down and he places a couple more sloppy kisses to your inner thigh, until they stop trembling.

Your chest was heaving and you were in the middle of getting at least some of your hearing back when he stood up and pushes his sweatpants down, then finds himself between your thighs with a satisfied smirk on his face.

You push some hair out of his face before you trace your finger down his jaw, attempting to catch your breath but it gets taken away again when he crashes his lips into yours.

His tongue pushes past your lips to claim any and every piece your mouth has to offer. Your eyes rolled back when you tasted yourself on your tongue.

In the midst of the kiss, you felt him push into you. A gasp of surprise got caught in your throat, but a breathy moan escaped from your lips.

You wrapped your legs around his back and held him as close as two people could possibly get, feeling him stretch you out so deliciously that it had your body buzzing all over again.

He gave you a couple moments to adjust, peppering kisses on every square inch of your face until you told him you were ready for him to move.

He slowly pulled his hips back and brought them back in, setting the pace slow and steady as he cradled your face, staring deep into your eyes with so much admiration in his own that your heart was practically melting to nothing more than a thick puddle.

“You feel amazing baby.” He raspily whispered before he placed a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered as he started thrusting a little faster, your nails gently raking down his back, feeling all the muscles contract beneath your fingertips.

His dropped his head to your shoulder and sucked the sensitive skin on your neck, earning a series of moans to fall from your lips like second nature.

One hand reached back and grabbed yours, holding it firmly above your head as he rocked into you just a little faster then before. You could’ve swore you were done for when he leaned up on one elbow with his chain between his teeth. You hooked your finger underneath it and pulled him back down to your lips, whimpering against him, “Harder.”

He obliged without hesitation, snapping his hips back and to hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall and all the pictures that decorated the hotel room bounce against the wall with every thrust.

“Oh my God Tyler!” You cried out, pushing your head back against the pillows. He dipped down and latched his lips to the column of your throat, his tongue smoothing over the overly sensitive skin right after.

“Wanna feel you come on me, baby” He coaxes between wet, sloppy kisses to your neck. “Want these bedsheets soaked and you drippin for me, so I can fuck it all back into you again.”

You moaned in response, your stomach tightening and veins heavily buzzing beneath your skin with every coax and praise that fell from his lips.

He leans back up and looks down at you, his hair falling every which way in his face, lips swollen from all the kisses and single sweat beads sliding down his skin. The picture of perfection if you’ve ever seen it.

“I- I don’t know if I can come again” You admitted, feeling so overly sensitive from your first orgasm that hit you out of nowhere.

“I know you can.” He says before he lets go of your hand and wraps his around your throat instead. Your eyes rolled back when you felt the pressure, making your head spin in the most addictive way.

Your mouth fell open but your moans were silenced by his lips. Your tongues merged, fighting against each other until his inevitably won the battle.

Your body was ignited, every nerve buzzing as he kept his hand firmly around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you see the stars behind your eyes all over again.

“Please don’t stop” You managed to moan out, and a coy smirk played on his lips as soon as he felt you throb around him. He did his best not to, but he couldn’t keep in the moan that ripped through his chest.

His eyes fluttered when you clenched down around him. Every time he thought he could hold back until you finished, he realized it was a much harder task than he anticipated.

“Kiss me” You needily whimpered, and he didn’t object. He leaned back down and crashed his lips to yours, his tongue once again dominating any and every space your mouth had to offer as he held that pressure to the sides of your neck, keeping your head swimming and body on the verge of completely falling into the pleasurable oblivion.

His hips snapped again, the feeling so overwhelmingly strong that your body had a mind of its own when your back arched once more, and he wrapped one arm underneath you to hold you in position.

You felt him driving so deep you couldn’t control the sounds that flew past your lips. You were positive that anyone on your floor was hearing every sound he pulled from you but it was the last thing you worried about.

You were once again so close to the release that you could taste it, and Tyler knowing your body well enough, knew that it was time to bring you over the edge.

He loosened his hand around your throat for a few seconds before he reapplied that pressure, dipping his head down, his lips lingered against the shell of your ear, sending chills skating freely down your spine.

“You did so good, mamas.” He coaxes, “You can come for me now. You earned it.”

Your nails dug deep into his back, and he groaned at the searing sensation, but snapped his hips even harder in response.

You felt all your senses once again wash away, this time ten times stronger. Tyler groaned and let a few curses slip against your shoulder when he felt you clench so tight that he could hardly pull back.

You clung to him like your life depended on it, his name flying through the air, bouncing off the walls like it was the only word you ever learned.

“That’s it baby” he praises. “Come for me, i’ve got you.”

You felt the rush of warmth spilling from you and filling you, knowing good and well the bed sheets would be soaked like he said.

He stilled his hips and held himself deep, his body shuddering slightly and low, deep groans mixing with your moans in the air.

You slowly loosened your hold on him; legs dropping to the bed, completely spent.

He caught his breath and picked his head up, a lazy, very much satisfied grin playing on his lips as he pushed his hair back and looked down at you.

You smiled up at him, rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip before he dipped down to place a gentle, tender kiss to them.

“This was ten times better than going out.” You chuckle, watching as he smirks back.

“Yeah, but I do have a problem.” He raises his brows.

“What?”

“I’m hungry as fuck now.” He drops his head to your shoulder to stifle his laugh.

“I told you.” You shake your head before you look over at the time. “Should we just go out anyway? It’s not too late.”

“Nah. We never get to stay in and just chill.”

“I know.” You smiled up at him. “How about you go pick something up real quick and i’ll find some movies for us to watch?” you suggested.

“Alright, that sounds good.” He nods before placing a kiss to your forehead. “But no romeo and juliet and no titanic.”

“If you don’t like classics just say that.” You deadpan, but couldn’t help but smile after.

“Baby, we’ve watched those about a thousand times. If I have to hear Leonardo Dicaprio one more time I might go crazy.”

“Well he does have that affect on people.” You teased, a bashful grin spreading across your lips.

Tyler raised his brows before he shook his head with a smile, and got up to grab your clothes and hand them to you.

“I’m gonna act like my competition is not a man who’s double my age.” He shook his head as he slides his sweatpants on.

You chuckled before you stood up and cupped his cheeks, placing a kiss to his lips before you said, “There is no competition, Leo’s got nothing on Tyler Senerchia.”

A tinge of pink crossed over his cheeks, paired with a wide grin. “I don’t really believe you cause i’ve watched you get all blushy when you watch his movies-“

“Okay shut up” you swat his arm and he busts out laughing before he wraps his arms around your waist.

“I’m just messing with you mamas. You can have a crush on an old man if you want to.” He teases, and tightens his arms around you so you can’t push him away.

You gave up and rolled your eyes at him, but smiled immediately after.

“The more you talk about him the more I want to put on one of his movies. Is that what you want?” You challenged.

You could see that he wanted to attest, and the look on his face told you he would probably do anything not to come back to Titanic on the tv.

“If you want to, then fine. But i’ll make sure I find every way in the book to distract you.” He mutters before he trails his lips down your neck.

“So if you wanna be able to walk tomorrow, I suggest putting on another movie.”

taglist: @730hook @willowgreens @shawtys-things @justdamnpeachy @wickedval @730bliss @theworldofotps @madds-97 @gethooked @benjaminka @5secondsofmoxley @cypherpart15 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @littlemissbliss06

#hook aew #aew hook #aew hook x reader #aew hook fluff #tyler senerchia

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chvoswxtch · 11 months

Text

stakeout

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: going on a stakeout with frank doesn't go anything like you thought it would.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns, a lil steam ;)

word count: 9k

a/n: fun fact: I originally started writing this specific idea as a standalone fic months ago & then when i started doing this series, i knew it would be perfect for it, & i've been excited to finish it & share it with y'all ever since. grab a snack & a drink, get comfy, bc this is almost 30 pages of yearning & pining for our favorite soft bad boy frankie. thank you so much to my darling angel @spoodermain for being my wonderful beta reader & offering your genius feedback that really made this part shine. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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How you had managed to talk Frank into letting you join a stakeout with him, you still weren’t sure, but it was nothing like you thought it would be. The entire three hour drive upstate was nearly composed of pure silence, only interrupted by trivial questions on your behalf, and answers in the form of monosyllables and grunts on his. The two of you had been sitting in his truck for almost six hours now, parked off on the side of a dirt road a good distance away from what looked like an abandoned warehouse that you hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave from.

You were going absolutely fucking stir crazy.

“Why can't we just go in?”

Frank let out a deep exhale through his nose, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye in pure annoyance before returning his attentive gaze back to the warehouse.

In his defense, you had asked this question at least five times already.

Letting out an impatient sigh of your own, you turned your body slightly in the passenger seat to face him while gesturing loosely to the warehouse with your hand.

“Frank, we haven't seen anyone in hours. We could go in, take a look around, and probably be back before anyone even-”

“Hey hey, no. Ain’t no we. Alright, you’re stayin’ your ass right here. And I already told you why. It’s too out in the open. I got no way of knowin’ if there’s anyone in there watchin’, and I can’t tell if they got some kind of security system ‘round the place-”

“So call Billy. See if he knows-”

“Bill ain’t the head of security for the entire goddamn world.”

Frank’s snappy quips and his irritated tone had you throwing your hands up in exasperation, and you dramatically sank back into the passenger seat of his truck, glaring out your window as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Fine. Then I guess we’ll just keep sitting here in fucking silence and you can keep brooding.”

Frank let out another heavy exhale from deep within his chest, and you could practically feel his intense stare against the side of your face.

“Look, I know this ain’t the most excitin’ thing, and you can’t sit still to save your goddamn life, but this is how we do this smart, and it’s how I keep you safe, alright? I ain’t takin’ any risks with you. I know patience ain’t your strong suit, but I need ya to try for just a little longer, alright? We don’t see any movement in the next hour, we’ll call it, and try again tomorrow. See if we can come up with another plan. Yeah?”

“Fine.”

Frank let out a tiny chuckle at your bratty response, and all of a sudden you felt something land in your lap. You glanced downwards as a crease formed between your brows, seeing an extra large version of your favorite candy bar. When your eyes flickered over towards Frank in curiosity, you noticed that he was already eyeing you with an amused smile. He shook his head slowly, returning his line of sight to the warehouse with another soft chuckle.

“Eat that and quit poutin’.”

A light scoff left your lips when you picked up the candybar and tore open the wrapper, suddenly noticing the way that you had been ignoring your body’s alerts of hunger.

“I’m not pouting.”

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart. Just remember, you asked to come along.”

“And you let me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Frank shook his head again in response to the pure sass dripping from your voice, and you caught the way the edge of his mouth tugged higher upwards into a wider grin.

“Thought this would be the one time you were quiet for some reason.”

Letting out a dramatic scoff of bewilderment, you reached out to smack your palm against his broad shoulder, which only caused laughter to bellow from deep within Frank’s chest. You doubt he even felt your feeble smack through the black denim layer of his jacket. Rolling your eyes playfully, you looked away with a tiny victorious grin after noticing the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed like that.

He looked so carefree; like that usual heaviness he carried around wasn’t weighing him down, just for that small moment. Frank had such a beautiful smile, and it made you feel like the luckiest person in the world every time you got to witness it.

Taking a small bite of your candybar, you muttered under your breath, making him snicker.

“Asshole.”

»»———　　———««

Forty five minutes later, a police car silently pulled up behind Frank’s truck, and your heart started to hammer wildly in your chest. The flashing of bright red and blue was almost blinding in the opaque darkness surrounding the empty dirt road he had pulled onto. The truck was parked far enough away from the property that the flashing lights shouldn’t have alerted anyone that could be inside, but the explanation as to why the two of you were here in the first place was a whole other problem.

Especially considering that you were technically “missing”.

“Shit.”

Frank hissed quietly as he stared at the patrol car in the side view mirror, his full lips settling into a hard line as he reached underneath his seat to retrieve a pistol that was hidden. Your eyes immediately widened as the silver metal became illuminated by the faint moonlight, and you glanced frantically between Frank’s stoic face and the cop car in the rearview mirror.

“What are you doing?”

Frank hastily brought his index finger to his lips when you whisper-yelled at him.

“Preparin’ for a problem.”

Frank’s eyes remained narrowed on the reflection in the side view mirror as he pulled the hammer back on the pistol, the sound of it cocking in place only fueling the speed of your tumultuous heart rate.

“Put it away!”

Scrunching up his dark brows, Frank turned his head slightly to stare at you incredulously as if you had just said the most ridiculous statement in the history of the English language.

“What?”

“Frank-”

“You got a better goddamn idea?”

Great. You’re not even supposed to be here, and now you’re about to either go to prison or die in a shootout.

Your eyes frantically searched around Frank’s truck for something that could help the two of you out. As Frank rested the gun against his chest with a firm grip on the handle and his index finger pressed along the barrel, an idea suddenly popped into your head that made your stomach flip.

“Put it away.”

Frank turned his head and stared at you curiously when he heard the firm tone of your voice, but his confusion quickly morphed into pure annoyance. He scoffed, opening his mouth to protest before you turned in your seat to face him.

“You asked if I had a better idea and I do.”

Frank stared you down for what felt like an eternity. His features were set in a harsher version of their normal broody appearance, and the hardness in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he ground his teeth, stealing one last glance at the side view mirror before stashing the pistol back underneath the seat, grumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Now what? What’s this grand fuckin’ plan of yours, huh?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the door to the patrol car swing open. Quickly dashing across the truck bench, you ungracefully climbed onto Frank’s lap. His entire body immediately went rigid, and he looked absolutely stunned as he stared into your eyes.

“What-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed onto the back of his neck and leaned in to firmly press your lips against his. Frank stilled completely beneath you for a good thirty seconds, and you could feel the tension practically radiating from his body. You started to worry that maybe you should have at least given him a snippet of your plan before-oh.

Oh.

A warmth suddenly spread across your thighs and it took a second for your brain to register that it was from Frank’s hands. They experimentally roamed up the expanse of your thighs until they slowly climbed up your hips, settling on your waist in a firm but delicate grip. All the previous anxiety that was buzzing in your veins seemed to be drowned out by the sensation of the tender pace of his lips finally responding to your chaste kiss.

God, his lips were as soft as they looked, and so warm. There was a bitterness to the way he tasted from the copious amounts of freshly brewed black coffee he had consumed, but it was cut through by lingering sweet mint from the gum he had spat out earlier.

The gentleness of his touch and his uncertain kiss was surprising for someone who was so rough in so many other aspects of their life. You couldn’t help but grab a small fistful of the collar of his gray henley while you melted into his strong chest, your fingernails lightly scratching at the back of his neck with your other hand, holding him as close as physically possible. A low groan sounded quietly in the back of Frank’s throat when you dragged your nails against his skin, and it traveled straight to your-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jumping at the sudden intrusion of noise, you turned your head to see a young officer staring between you and Frank awkwardly, the end of his flashlight hovering over the glass of the driver’s side window. When the window was slowly rolled down, the seriousness of the previous situation broke through the haze of lust you had found yourself in, and you suddenly remembered why you were in Frank’s lap in the first place. Before you could scramble out an explanation, Frank’s rough voice cut through the timid silence and startled you.

“What?”

The young officer jumped backwards immediately from the way Frank practically barked at him, and you turned your head to stare at him in surprise. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his thick brows were knit together in pure frustration, and you could see that familiar flame of rage burning in his eyes.

He looked pissed.

Looking back at the officer, you let out a nervous laugh as you pressed your palm flat against Frank’s chest in an attempt to calm him, flashing the young man a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, is…is there a problem?”

He gulped as his eyes flickered from Frank’s unwavering hardened glare to you, nodding slowly as he uncomfortably gestured behind himself with his thumb.

“I…sorry to uh…interrupt. It’s just…well…this is private property. You’re…technically trespassing.”

Hearing the aggravated grunt that sounded from Frank as he opened his mouth to speak, you quickly covered his mouth with your small palm and let out another nervous laugh, trying to keep the officer’s attention on you.

“I’m very sorry, that’s um…that’s my fault. It’s…it’s our first night with a babysitter so, we got a little…carried away. I’m sure you can understand?”

There was a hopeful tone to your voice as your lips parted into the most convincing charming smile you could muster at the moment, hoping he would take the bait so that you and Frank could leave without a scene being caused. When the young man’s lips parted into a light smile, you felt a sense of ease wash over you.

“Of course, I can definitely…understand.”

But that ease was short lived when you caught where his line of sight went, and felt Frank’s grip on your waist tighten possessively.

As the young officer spoke those words, he made the mistake of letting his eyes wander over your chest in a shameless way, and you panicked when you felt Frank lean forward, reaching with one hand underneath his seat while also shielding your chest from the man’s prying eyes with his large body.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

The officer instantly took another large step back, holding his hands up in surrender and mumbling a string of apologies as Frank started going off on him, reaching for the handle to the door. You quickly grabbed his jaw in your hand and forced him to look at you, staring into his furious glare with wide eyes as you whispered frantically through gritted teeth.

“Frank, stop it.”

Glancing back over at the young man, you let out a soft laugh as you waved your shaky hand dismissively.

“I’m really sorry, we’ll just…leave. We’ll leave. Have a good night.”

Quickly rolling up the window, you scurried back into the passenger seat and swiftly put your seatbelt on. When Frank didn’t move an inch, you turned your head to look at him, seeing a twisted up concoction of anger and confusion on his features. You hysterically gestured towards the steering wheel as you gawked at him.

“What are you doing? Drive!”

Frank’s jaw hardened as he let out a heavy grunt, turning the keys in the ignition and flashing the officer one final death glare before peeling off onto the dirt road in the opposite direction. Once the patrol car was out of sight, you let out a deep breath of relief and held your face in your trembling hands as you tried to calm your nerves.

Your mind was racing with all the worst possible case scenarios. What if that officer was with the Defenders of Freedom too? Is that why he was on that road? Did he get Frank’s license plate? Is he telling the others that the two of you found their base of operations? What would-

“That was good quick thinkin’.”

Frank’s gravely voice cutting through the silence made you realize that neither of you had spoken in the past ten minutes. Turning your head to look over at him, your brows knit together in puzzlement.

“What?”

Frank’s eyes darted over to you timidly, only for a moment, before settling back on the road in front of him.

“Your…plan.”

His voice sounded somewhat strained, and you noticed his features were blanketed in an expression you couldn’t fully make out from the faint glow of the street lights. He almost looked…shy?

Shy was not a word you would ever normally use to describe Frank Castle.

There was suddenly a feeling of heat nipping at the tops of your cheeks, and you were swiftly aware of the lingering sensation of your lips tingling from the kiss.

Is that why he couldn’t hardly look at you?

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

Frank arched one of his thick brows as his eyes flickered back over towards you once again, his full lips pursing slightly as he nodded.

“Yeah…I s’pose they do.”

There was a layer of questioning in his tone, and you leaned back in your seat as you looked anywhere but at him while clearing your throat.

“It usually makes people look away, or want to get as far away from it as soon as possible.”

A quiet grunt of agreeance sounded in the back of Frank’s throat.

“That’s…smart.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you and Frank, and the small unoccupied space in the middle of the truck bed suddenly felt like an ocean separating the two of you. Tension hung thick and heavy in the miniscule space of the cab like an awkward fog that you couldn’t have even sliced through with the sharpened hunter’s knife on Frank’s hip.

For the next half hour, the quiet thrum of the truck engine was the only sound disrupting the tense silence.

»»———　　———««

Stepping past Frank’s large frame into the motel room he had rented for the night, your eyes immediately landed on the bed in the middle of the room.

The bed.

The one.

Single.

Bed.

Glancing over your shoulder at Frank, he caught where your gaze had gone, and there was a sheepish expression on his face.

“Last room they had.”

Doing your best to appear nonchalant about the situation, you gave a slight nod of your head in understanding as you surveyed the room. The dingy wallpaper was beyond faded and peeling where the torn edges pulled away from the top of the wall. What had once probably been a tasteful shade of tan looked more like a muted shade of gold. The queen size bed in the middle of the room was covered in a multi-shade paisley quilt that the word ‘ugly’ couldn’t even begin to describe, and contrasted sharply with the hunter green carpet beneath your feet.

“You didn’t make a reservation?”

The joke you attempted to make to lighten the mood fell flat as Frank eyed you with an unreadable expression, dropping his black duffle bag onto the floor with a slight thud.

“Wasn’t expectin’ company. It ain’t the Ritz, but-”

“Frank, it’s fine. I was joking.”

“Right.”

The uncomfortable silence and awkward tension were absolutely killing you.

Things had never been this weird with Frank, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. So you did the one thing you always did when you didn’t want to deal with an unpleasant situation.

You ran away from it.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

About halfway through rushing towards the bathroom, you abruptly halted in your steps when you realized that you couldn’t shower because you didn’t have anything. You had slept at Frank’s last night, and you couldn’t go by your place this morning since it was an active crime scene.

You had no clothes. No toothbrush. No nothing.

“Shit.”

“You alright?”

There was a cautious tone to Frank’s deep voice, but it was clearly laced with concern when it nestled in your ears. You turned around to face him, your lips pulled into a tight expression that was supposed to resemble a smile, but probably looked more like a grimace.

“I just realized I don’t have anything.”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly while he looked over at you, curiosity and confusion swirling around in his deep brown eyes.

“We couldn’t stop by my place this morning…and we left kinda in a hurry…so…”

All of a sudden you could see realization dawning on Frank’s face. His features softened considerably, and he quickly glanced at the small analog clock on the nightstand by the bed. It was late, and you were nearly in the middle of nowhere in some small town upstate about twenty miles from the location Frank had been given. There was nothing around the motel except a rundown gas station and a little twenty-four hour diner.

Frank turned his attention back to you, and his dark eyes wandered over you for a second before he met your gaze again. There was an apologetic expression on his features as he reached down to grab his duffle bag, walking over to set it down on the edge of the bed while he unzipped it and started to rustle through it.

“Here, I got some stuff you can borrow-”

“It’s okay. I can just-”

“Ain’t a big deal. I got extras of some things. Can’t promise anythin’ will fit or smell pretty.”

Frank glanced up to flash you a tiny smile as he held out a small pile of things towards you. As you reached out to take the items from him, your fingers lightly brushed against his, and you felt a spark shock through your system. Looking up at him, your lips tugged into a tight timid smile while you nodded.

“Thanks, Frank.”

Without waiting for a response, you dashed into the small bathroom for some privacy, hoping you’d be able to get yourself the fuck together.

Any attempt you were going to make to try to push that kiss from earlier out of your head was completely ruined when you began to lather his body wash in your hands to rub it into your wet skin, being careful to avoid getting any suds in your hurt hand, and comb it through your hair, since Frank was apparently a two in one kind of guy. Even though the temperature of the water was a degree short of scalding, the areas of your body that had been caressed by Frank’s large hands burned hotter.

He had touched you, really touched you, beyond the point of just trying to sell your distraction. He didn’t have to kiss you back the way he had. He could’ve just let his lips stay modestly pressed to yours until the officer walked up.

But Frank seemed to have lost himself in the kiss just as much as you had.

So why was he acting so strange now? If he wanted that kiss as much as you did, why was he acting more reserved with you now than he ever had before? Was his perceived passion blown out of proportion by your greedy and selfish imagination?

Or did he simply regret it?

The whirlwind of questions and convoluted doubt only got worse when you slipped his clothes on.

His clothes.

Frank had given you a long sleeve black t-shirt that was ridiculously soft and comfortable. You had recalled seeing him wear it on several occasions. While it fit him snugly, the sleeves hung comically off your hands, and the bottom of it reached the middle of your thighs. Your eyes had momentarily widened seeing that he had given you a pair of his black briefs, but they fit you somewhat better than the sweatpants he had offered.

It felt strangely intimate to be in Frank’s clothes. Granted, wearing someone else’s underwear is kind of intimate, but it also made you feel…comforted in an odd way. You were completely doused head to toe in the familiar scent of Frank, and that made you feel safe in a way that you had only ever felt with him.

When you stepped out of the steamy bathroom, Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand, staring down at it intently. He perked up when he heard the bathroom door creak open, and his eyes instantly snapped over to look over at you. His dark brown eyes roamed slowly over the sight of you in his clothes, and when he finally met your gaze, there was a look there you hadn’t seen before.

But it made your knees weak.

Trying to dispel the thick layer of tension in the air, you cleared your throat as you slowly walked over towards him and handed the pair of sweatpants back with a soft smile on your lips.

“I gave them my best shot.”

Frank’s eyes softened slightly and he let out a light chuckle, taking the sweats from you to place into his own lap.

“Everythin’ else work alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, um…thank you.”

“Sure. We’ll find a store first thing in the mornin’, get ya some stuff. How’s the hand?”

Frank held one of his large hands out towards you expectantly, and without even thinking, you placed your injured one on top of his.

“It’s fine. I wrapped it.”

He pushed back the sleeve past your wrist to inspect your handiwork, delicately turning your wrist from left to right to examine the placement and tightness of the layers of gauze covering your wounded palm and fingers. He made a subtle expression of pride, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours with a nod of approval.

“Not bad.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Frank looked up at you with slightly raised brows, and then a quirk of a smile curled at the edge of his lips when it clicked that you had learned by watching him tend to your hand last night.

“S’pose you did.”

When Frank let go of your hand and rose from the bed, he moved to step around you, and you watched him toe off his boots by the door before starting to rummage through his duffle bag again. He had ditched his black denim jacket, and it looked like his shirt was straining against the expanse of his large back. When your eyes wandered upwards, your breath caught in your throat seeing a faint pink vertical line on the back of his neck.

The one you had left with your nails.

A surge of heat instantly spread across the tops of your cheeks, and between your thighs, as the phantom touch of Frank’s firm grasp on your waist burned once again on your skin. You had fantasized so many times about sitting on Frank’s lap and kissing him like that, but your imagination could never compare to the real thing. Your lips started to tingle again at the memory of his warm and soft lips responding eagerly to your kiss, and your ears rang loudly with the echo of his low groan that had sounded in his throat.

You were all of a sudden painfully aware of the fact that you were getting wet in Frank’s underwear.

You had never been so affected just from kissing someone before. Not even when you made out with a boy for the first time. Or…any boy you made out with for that matter.

Hell, Steven couldn’t even get you that worked up with his hand in your panties and detailed fucking instructions.

But Frank…Frank just drove you absolutely fucking wild.

“What happens now?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his broad shoulder when your soft voice cut through the stillness. You could hear the faint desperation in your own voice, and you knew it heard it too. Frank never missed anything. There was a hesitancy to his features, and irresolution swimming around in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure what exactly you were referring to.

What happens with the investigation?

What happens tomorrow?

What happens next with us, Frank?

Frank carefully turned around to face you fully, and while his face appeared neutral, there was something glowing in his eyes.

“With what?”

His words were laced with pure curiosity, but there was a coveted challenge concealed within them. You didn’t have the courage to ask the question you really wanted the answer to, and you had a feeling Frank wouldn’t answer it unless he was prompted. Even then, there was a good chance he would avoid it. A sobering thought washed over you that you might not be prepared for that answer anyway, so you decided to play it safe.

“Well…we can’t go back there, right?”

Frank’s lips pursed into a somewhat thin line. He almost looked like he was disappointed by your choice of question. His pensive eyes studied you silently for a moment before clutching that same pair of sweatpants he had offered you in his large hand and stalking off towards the bathroom.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

When the door to the bathroom firmly shut, you flopped back onto the stiff mattress with a heavy sigh and closed your eyes.

It was going to be a very long night.

These sleepovers with Frank were not going the way you had fantasized about previously at all.

»»———　　———««

Ten minutes later, Frank quietly emerged from the bathroom, and your eyes doubled in size as your jaw nearly became fully unhinged. The dark gray pair of sweatpants that he had offered you were slung dangerously low on his hips, and a delicious white sliver of the waistband of his briefs were peeking out above them. His cropped dark hair was tousled in damp curls, and droplets of warm water cascaded down the expanse of his lean and toned figure. Frank’s skin looked so smooth, like an exemplary chiseled piece of artwork carved into tan marble; a Greek god perfectly immortalized in impenetrable stone.

Your rapacious eyes were particularly interested in a droplet that was leisurely making its way down one of his deep cut v-lines, only to become absorbed by the fabric of his sweats. While you were marveling at the view of the unveiled Adonis before you, a sight abruptly caught your attention.

There was a faint pink scar above his right hip.

In an instant, you were no longer staring at him through cherry tinted lenses of desire, but with a slight pang of sadness cutting through your chest. There were numerous scars marked on Frank’s body. Some were faded, nearly blending in with his normal flesh tone, while some were opaque, a clear striking contrast of pain endured in comparison to the untainted color of skin that had never known affliction. Some were deep indentations nestled in his skin, almost to the bone, while others casually crested above the sea level of undisrupted ripples of flesh.

“I was a Marine.”

Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of the motel room swiftly redirected your line of sight to his face. He had a gray tank top in his large hands, and he subtly seemed to be wringing it with a twinge of nervousness. There was an unrestrained expression of aversion in his eyes, as if he didn’t know whether to hide the evidence of an unforgiving past, or allow you to consume this rare moment of vulnerability completely.

For a moment your eyes dropped to the chain around his neck.

The gold wedding band.

You hadn’t seen a glimpse of it since that night at the bar, when you’d caught sight of him in your guest bathroom with a few of his shirt buttons undone. You still didn’t know if it was his or if it had belonged to his wife, or what happened to her, but it was hard to look at now.

You didn’t like seeing him look so uncomfortable, so you did your best to put him at ease with a tender smile on your lips as you looked up at him in genuine understanding and grace.

“That…actually makes a lot of sense.”

Frank glanced down at the shirt in his hands for a moment, an apparition of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a dry and short chuckle escaped his mouth.

“I’ll try not to take offense to that.”

The elusive, light-hearted tone of his voice made you wonder if you could try to dismantle at least one of the many walls that he seemed to have up within him. You didn’t want to pry too much, but you’d had so many questions about Frank for months, and it seemed like he was finally giving you a rare window to get a few answers.

“Is…is that where those came from?”

“Most of ‘em.”

Frank kept his gaze averted downwards on the shirt in his hand as he spoke in a hushed tone, like his admissions couldn’t be uttered above a certain decibel level. It almost appeared as though it was easier for him to be vulnerable with you if he didn’t have to look at you.

Was he nervous to see your reaction to his rare divulgence? Or was there something lurking in the shadows of history that he couldn’t face?

Was he thinking about your lips as much as you were thinking about his?

You had to focus. You weren’t sure how grand or miniscule this window of opportunity was with Frank. This moment could be just as magnificently fleeting as a shooting star escaping across the cosmos, and if you blinked at the wrong second, you would miss it.

This could be your one chance to finally break through those meticulously crafted barriers of his. To unravel the chains of mystery that seemed to weigh him down, and finally erase that invisible line separating him from everyone else that he never seemed to let you cross.

But, you couldn’t push too hard. If your curiosity was too intrusive, he’d immediately shut down. If you misstepped over the delicate minefield of his own temper, you risked an explosion. It had to be the most graceful balancing act you’d ever done.

You had to treat this like the most important story of your entire career. Carefully pose the questions as innocent conversation, instead of an interrogation, and give him the space to answer as generally or as detailed as he wanted to.

Billy’s advice seemed to echo in your ears at that moment.

You gotta let him come to you.

“How long were you in the Marines?”

“Did four tours.”

When you didn’t speak for a moment, Frank finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. There was a twinkle of amusement shining in his warm brown eyes at your evident confusion, and he let out a light chuckle as a crooked smile tugged across his lips.

“All in all, little over ten years.”

A faint blush layered over the tops of your cheeks at your own ignorance. Normally when you interviewed someone, you had the benefit of being able to research them beforehand. With Frank, you were having to make up everything as you go with the extremely limited knowledge you had of him, and of his experience. You knew virtually nothing about the Marines, or the military in general, but seemed to be feeling generous in offering explanations.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Frank glanced around the motel room for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts while pondering the question that lingered between you. After a beat of silence, he sat down on the edge of the bed with a heavy exhale, just a few inches away from where you had been sitting cross-legged on the middle of the mattress, and turned his head to the left to look at you.

“Did you always wanna be a journalist?”

Frank’s question took you by surprise. He didn’t often ask you personal questions about yourself, but you decided if you answered his questions honestly, maybe he would do the same.

“I’ve always been nosey.”

The corner of Frank’s full lips quirked up into a knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but let out a huff of air through your nose in a quiet snort.

“That don’t surprise me.”

Giving Frank a playful roll of your eyes in response to his comment, you lightly shrugged your shoulders, looking up at him with a faint smile on your lips.

“I’ve always liked story-telling. I’ve never really had the imagination to come up with my own, but I like other people’s stories, and I’ve always enjoyed writing. I thought a club would look good on my college applications, and I wasn’t very athletic or talented in anything else, so I decided to join my high school’s paper. That’s where I really fell in love with investigative journalism, which I realize sounds ridiculous given I was reporting high school ‘news’ but-”

“It ain’t ridiculous if it was important to ya.”

The sincerity in Frank’s tone coupled with the depth of his alluring gaze almost made you forget what you were talking about. It also made you suddenly aware of the fact that every time you downplayed yourself, Frank was quick to cut off your self-deprecation with a genuine sentiment. For a second, all you could do was stare into his eyes, until you decided to bare your soul in front of him.

“It was the first time I really felt like I was good at something. Like I…I had a purpose. I had something that was…mine. I could do something meaningful…something that mattered. It could be something I was proud of.”

Frank stayed silent while he soaked up the candor of your confession, like he was taking the time to commit every piece of it to memory. Sometimes you felt like he could see right through you when he stared into your eyes, and you felt incredibly small under his undivided attention. His head dipped slightly between his broad shoulders when he turned his head to stare down at his clasped hands for a moment.

“I never knew what the hell I wanted to do. I was a…bit of a troublemaker when I was a kid. My parents…they were older, ya’know? Couldn’t really do nothin’ to control me. I knew that, and took advantage of it. I was a real…”

“Asshole?”

Frank’s lips parted into a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I was gonna say prick. But…yeah. I was a little asshole.”

“Well thank God you grew out of that.”

Frank dropped his head slightly to stare back down at his hands again with a light chuckle. Your eyes followed his gaze, and you noticed a few scars covering his knuckles, resembling jagged designs carved into a tree trunk.

“I enlisted when I was eighteen. Thought…what the hell, ya’know? Was never any good at school or anythin’ like that…and I didn’t wanna get stuck at some…shit job. Thought it was my ticket out, ya’know? Get to travel, play with guns and tanks, that kinda shit.”

The light smile that had been on the edge of Frank’s mouth dissipated slowly, and his thick brows slowly drew closer in together while he rubbed his right thumb over the back of his left hand.

“Bein’ a Marine…it was the first time in my life I felt like I was worth a damn. Like I was really doin’ somethin’, ya’know? Somethin’ good…somethin’ important. I was good at it, damn good at it. Felt like I…like I finally found-”

“A purpose.”

Frank’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and there seemed to be a shared expression of understanding between the two of you. You knew exactly what he meant, and he could see that reflected in your eyes.

“A purpose.”

He repeated those two words in a more quiet and contemplative voice, like he was repeating them more to himself than to you.

“So, how do you go from being a Marine to a bodyguard for a high maintenance journalist?”

“Just that goddamn lucky, I s’pose.”

The edges of Frank’s mouth twisted up into a sardonic smirk when he turned his head to look at you, and you were about to retort with a smartass comment of your own when you noticed something you hadn’t seen before.

Without even thinking, your hand reached out to trace a circular shaped scar on Frank’s left temple with your index finger. He didn’t go rigid when you touched him this time, not like he had in the truck. The smirk swiftly vanished along with the playful crinkles beside his eyes, and his full lips parted slightly while he stared at you intently as you lightly traced your finger over the mark.

It was indented slightly, and you could feel the faint dip beneath your fingertip. The edges of it were tinted more of a blush shade, making it obvious this wound had been made more recently than some of the others adorning his skin. It almost looked like a bullet hole…and that idea had your stomach twisting into tight knots.

“What’s this one from?”

All of a sudden, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your wrist to push your hand away at the exact same time he turned he pulled his hand away from your delicate caress. His lips were now pressed in a line and that familiar hardness was back in his gaze.

And just like that, whatever moment you two were having was clearly over.

Frank suddenly stood from the edge of the bed and silently pulled his tank top over his head, slipping his large arms through the sleeve holes and covering his body with the dark gray fabric.

“We should call it a night.”

Frank’s voice was flat, and you felt a surge of frustration burn in your bloodstream. Every time you felt like you were getting somewhere with him, he pulled back. It was like you were constantly trying to carefully navigate your way up an unclimbable mountain, and as soon as the peak came into view, you lost your footing and fell to the bottom.

He grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and tossed it onto the floor, and a crease of confusion settled in the middle of your forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll take the floor. You can have the bed.”

You looked down at the queen size bed you were sitting on top of, a bed of which you barely took up any space, and then looked back over at Frank, who was in the middle of making a pallet on the floor.

“Frank, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. This bed is big enough for both of us.”

“Slept in worse conditions.”

You pinched at the bridge of your nose in pure irritation at both the insensitive implications behind his remark and his unrelenting stubbornness.

“So you’ve told me, several times. Thank you, by the way, for telling me that you think sharing a bed with me is worse than whatever the hell your setup was in the military. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle. I had no idea you were such a poet.”

Frank’s face twisted up in puzzlement and aggravation at the tone of sarcasm dripping from your clipped words.

“That ain’t what I-”

“I don’t want to hear a single complaint in the morning when you’re stiff and sore from choosing to sleep on the fucking floor.”

As you vexingly tugged back the thin and somewhat stiff quilt on top of the bed, you slid beneath it, the scratchiness of the cheap sheets against your bare legs only souring your mood even further. While you turned onto your side away from Frank and harshly smacked your hand against the button to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, he stared down at you with furrowed dark brows and a heavy frown in complete exasperation and perplexity.

“Oh for fucks-why is it always a goddamn argument with you?”

“Why are you always such an ass?”

“I’m an ass for tryin’ to be a gentleman and make sure you’re comfortable?”

Dragging your palms down your face with an irritated groan, you furiously sat up in the bed to look over at Frank with an exacerbated expression while the two of you raised your voices at each other in yet another argument.

“How are you making me uncomfortable if I’m offering, Frank? This bed is big, so big that you wouldn’t even have to breathe the same air as me. We could even put pillows down the middle just to make sure that we don’t accidentally touch in the middle of the night, because God fucking forbid-”

“Oh Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine.”

Frank ripped the pillow off the ground and angrily tossed it onto the bed, tugging the covers back from the other side of the mattress to slip underneath angrily. He turned his head to glare at you as he harshly gestured towards himself in the bed.

“There? Happy? You gonna stop fuckin’ givin’ me shit, now?”

Returning Frank’s fuming glare with one of your own, the two of you seemed to be locked in an angry staring contest until you conceded and turned over again, dragging the unpleasant quilt up to your chin. You grit your teeth as you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out an aggravated exhale through your nose.

As hot as your blood felt in your veins, there was also a nauseating feeling of disappointment settling in your stomach.

Frank wasn’t thinking about your lips. He wasn’t thinking about your kiss at all. If he was, it was him wishing it didn’t happen.

Maybe that was part of the reason he wanted to sleep on the floor and seemed so pissed off at you. He didn’t want to be near you. He was mad that you kissed him without his permission.

You’d made him uncomfortable.

On the other side of the bed, Frank stared at the back of your head in the dim amber light of the room coming from the other bedside lamp. Turning his head to stare straight ahead blankly at the wall in front of him, he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a slow and heavy exhale as he grumbled a string of curses under his breath.

After a few terse minutes of deafening silence, you could feel Frank shifting underneath the sheets, and his gravelly voice filtered in through the dense quiet.

“Look, I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt your feelin’s-”

“You didn’t-”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t implyin’ that sharin’ a bed with you was such a bad thing, alright? I only meant I slept in worse places than on a floor, s’all.”

Frank genuinely sounded apologetic, and you felt a rush of guilt wash over you from the way you had twisted his words, jumped to conclusions, and reacted poorly. He let out another heavy sigh before speaking again.

“I just…wanted you to feel comfortable.”

The hushed tone of his voice made it sound like he was entrusting you with his deepest secret. Swallowing down your pride, you turned on your side to face Frank, looking over at him silently for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.

“Frank, you’ve never made me uncomfortable.”

He was laying on his back, his head slightly propped up against the headboard, but his face was turned towards you. He seemed to be searching your eyes for any thread of faultiness in your words that he could unravel.

“I…I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

“You’re sorry for tellin’ me the truth?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows, and you could detect a faint smirk on the edge of his lips, even in the dim light of the room. You rolled your eyes as you laughed quietly.

“Can you just let me just apologize to you for making an ass of myself?”

Frank eyed you for a moment with a sly tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Aren’t good reporters s’posed to reserve their conclusions ‘bout somethin’ ‘til they got all the evidence?”

The low, hushed tone Frank spoke in to not disrupt the quiet peace that settled between the two of you made his voice sound sultry. That twinkle of amusement was shining in his eyes again, and you fought the grin that threatened to take over your lips.

Playful Frank was your favorite Frank.

“Are you implying that I’m not a good reporter, Mr. Castle?”

A low chuckle rumbled in Frank’s throat as he moved his right arm behind his head, closing his eyes while he turned his head to face upwards with a faint smirk on his lips.

“Considerin’ you’re trigger happy, and there’s ‘bout three guns within your reach, no. Absolutely not.”

“I am not-”

“Did you not just jump all over my ass a second ago over a misunderstandin’?”

Frank opened his eyes to look over at you, his thick dark brows raised slightly while that faint smirk remained subtly on his full lips.

Narrowing your eyes playfully, you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and lightly shrugged your shoulders beneath the quilt.

“Well, you gave me the conclusion that you were an ass the first day I met you, and you’ve only reinforced it since then. You also did just admit on record that you’ve been an ass since you were a kid, so.”

Another chuckle sounded from Frank as a grunt of agreeance sounded in his throat.

“I reckon you’re right ‘bout that.”

A few moments of tranquil quiet passed by between the two of you, but you were buzzing with questions on the inside. However, something he said abruptly clicked in your brain, and your eyes widened as you looked over at him.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Are there really three guns in this room?”

“Three on your side.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your brows knit together as you stared over at him incredulously.

“What…what do you mean ‘three on my side’? How many are on your side?”

“Two, and a knife.”

“Jesus Christ, Rambo. Anything else?”

Frank let out a deep and amused chuckle at that, placing his left hand on his chest as he shifted slightly on his back to get comfortable.

“In the truck, yeah.”

“What? There’s more?”

“Go to bed.”

There was no firmness in Frank’s voice, just complete entertainment. You glanced around the dimly lit motel room cautiously, wondering where he might have placed them.

“Where are they?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Letting out a scoff, you turned your head to look at him in minor annoyance.

“What if someone tries to break in?”

“I’ll handle it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the mirthy smirk curling on the edge of his mouth.

“What if…five people break in?”

“Highly unlikely, but both guns on my side got a clip that hold 12 rounds. You done?”

An exasperated huff left your lips as you turned to lay on your back and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Isn’t it proper safety protocol to let someone know where loaded firearms are stashed?”

“They ain’t loaded.”

“You just said-”

“The ones on my side are loaded. The ones on your side ain’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You said it yourself. You’re nosey, and you never even held a gun before.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but to your irritation, Frank had a point. Not that you would admit that out loud to him.

A few minutes of silence passed by before you spoke up again.

“You could always teach me.”

Frank opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at you, staring at you in a mixture of interest and confusion.

“Teach you what?”

You turned back onto your side to face him and lightly shrugged your shoulders.

“How to shoot.”

It was Frank’s time to stare at you in dumbfoundment. He arched one of his thick brows while he eyed you.

“You wanna learn how to shoot?”

“I mean…people are only trying to kill me.”

Frank didn’t return the playful smile that you flashed him, and it quickly fell from your lips. This was not going to be something he was going to agree to easily. You were really going to have to fight for this one. You had to show him that you were serious.

“If you hadn’t shown up last night, those men were going to kill me, Frank. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless ever again.”

The devout honesty in your voice was unmistakable, and Frank let out a deep exhale as he turned his head to look up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes again.

“Let’s deal with this shit first, then we’ll talk.”

There was a tiny surge of victory that coursed through you at that. It wasn’t technically a yes, but it also wasn’t a flat out no. You just needed to keep proving to him that this was something you were serious about.

You wanted to bring up the kiss, but you weren’t sure how to approach it. You didn’t want to ruin the peace your playful banter had brought about with Frank, but you couldn’t leave it alone.

Why was he so goddamn hard to read?

Why was he still being so hot and cold with you?

Even if he was still your bodyguard, the two of you were way past the point of professionalism.

“Frank?”

“Hm?”

“I…I’m sorry…if I made you uncomfortable.”

The thin material of the pillowcase rustled loudly in the quiet as Frank turned his head to look at you inquisitively, like he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Earlier…when I…kissed you.”

There wasn’t a desert on any continent as dry as your mouth right now, and your heart was pounding so relentlessly against the sturdy ivory of your ribcage, you swore he could hear it a few inches away.

The cloudy ignorance seemed to dissipate from between his brows, and his features migrated to an expression of recognition. For a moment he didn’t say anything, and it made you realize you found his silence far more unnerving than his unwanted answers.

“You didn’t.”

There was such a confidence behind those two words that it nearly knocked the breath out of your lungs. Those two little words held so many portals of possibilities.

You didn’t; it just caught me off guard.

You didn’t; everything is fine between us.

You didn’t; I wanted to taste you.

Staring over at Frank, words seemed to completely vanish from your brain. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea how to respond to that. The intensity of his piercing gaze sent a slight shiver tumbling down your spine despite the blazing warmth you could feel radiating from his body a few inches away from you.

The amber glow from the bedside lamp lit up his eyes like the golden hour of sunlight shining through a glass of whiskey. You wanted to get lost in him again. You wanted to take your rightful place on the throne of his lap, tangle your fingers in his hair like a crown, and let him rule over the kingdom inside your body.

“Frank.”

Was the delicate whisper of his name a desperate plea, or an enticing invitation?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he answered it.

For a moment, his mesmerizing stare dropped to your lips, and you swore you saw him start to lean in-

But then at the last second, he cleared his throat and turned over onto his side away from you, moving as close to the edge of the bed on his side as he could get. Frank’s voice was rough when it reached your ears, no trace of the warm and playful tone he had used just minutes ago.

“Get some sleep.”

That hopeful ember of desire that he had ignited in you had been completely snuffed out by his own hand before the flame could even catch, and the ambient light in the motel went out along with it leaving you in dumbfoundment and darkness.

tags: @twoshields @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @annalism @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98

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