#oh and the fact that I stay at her apartment on weekends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mixtape-racha · 8 months

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should i stay or should i go | hwang hyunjin

who knew the quiet girl in the back of the algebra classroom, and the campus's golden boy would have so much in common? // minors dni, 18+

words: 4.3k // warnings: camboy!hyunjin x camgirl!reader, dom!hyunjin, oral (f. recieving), tiny hint to orgasm control, protected piv, "sir" and "princess", recorded sex, illusions to aftercare, reader is kind of a brat and teases hyunjin at first, hinted multiple rounds, slight degradation but mostly praise

“g’night, guys. dream of me!” hyunjin grinned, biting his lip as he leaned forward to turn off his livestream camera.

he felt sticky, and messy, but god did it feel good. he worked quickly to find his wipes and clean the cum off of his torso before it dried, before pulling out his favorite lounge pants and a baggy shirt.

sure, cam work was often frowned upon, but why shouldn’t he get paid for allowing others to view his pleasure? why shouldn’t he indulge himself in the compliments of strangers on twitter who oh-so loyally reminded him how beautiful he was under every lewd or nude he posted?

in fact, he didn’t understand why people wouldn’t want that for themselves.

of course, it also helped that he was surrounded by many followers and mutuals who were even more attractive than him, making many online friends who enjoyed their sexuality just as much as he did.

speaking of which, he needed to reply to a dm from his favorite mutual. she was gorgeous in every sense of the word - and her personality even more so. they’d began talked after she praised him under one of his only cumshot videos on the app, and instantly bonded from there. it was her who had introduced him to the camming site she used, hyunjin having instantly made an account - at first, to watch his new friend’s streams, but eventually starting his own.

his most recent conversations with his friend - who used the online alias of “jae” - was about their many, many requests from their followers for a collab. either for a twitter post, or a stream, it seemed their fans weren’t too fussed. they entertained the idea, and were currently in the process of figuring out if it was actually a good idea for them.

he was more than keen - jae’s body was gorgeous, and he’d rubbed one out to her twitter posts more than once. and - although he’d never admit it - he was a frequent viewer of her streams. that was where jae and himself differed though. she was too caught up in keeping her viewers occupied, that she hadn’t had a chance to watch one of his streams, and he never showed his face in twitter posts.

so, in short, she didn’t know what he looked like. and neither did he truly know what she looked like, because she’s never done a face reveal on twitter or on a stream. he was only fortunate enough to have endless content of her gorgeous tits and pretty pussy to indulge in when he needed it.

a week later, and it was almost time. hyunjin and jae had agreed to meet at a bar near his campus, to see how their dynamic went. the agreement was that if either party felt uncomfortable, they would go no further and call the idea off. if they both felt comfortable, well…. jae would take hyunjin back to her apartment. they’d see how things went there, take a few photos for twitter and maybe if they both wanted.

then - all things successful - the following weekend, they’d do a joint stream, streaming live on both their accounts simultaneously for maximum viewers. that was his idea, a whim decision that he was surprised jae agreed too.

hyunjin dressed in his nicest semi-casual outfit before grabbing all the essentials in his bag - wallet, keys, charger, airpods, phone - before grabbing a bottle of lube and some condoms. just to be on the safe side, he told himself. he didn’t know why he was so nervous, this was literally part of his job. and he’d been talking to jae for months now. he had no reason to be scared.

that was until he got to the bar and had every reason to be scared. sitting in a booth in the corner, exactly where jae had told him she was sitting, was you. y/n l/n, the pretty girl in the back of his algebra class. there was no way, right? he cautiously approached the table, hands shaking slightly. oh god, was it really someone he knew on the other end of the phone that entire time?

“jae?” he asked, wincing at the way his voice broke, and his heart thumping when your head whipped up. you looked like a deer caught in headlights as you realized who was stood in front of you, and instantly you both worried that this was a bad idea.

“oh my god… hyunjin?” but what surprised him most was the way you broke into a grin. “thank god, i was so worried it was actually going to be a creepy old man catfishing me… come! come sit!”

were you always so bubbly? hyunjin had always known who you were, but this was so different to the quiet girl in the back of the algebra class, one airpod in at all times, glasses donning her face and never talking. he was almost whiplashed - he’d really misjudged you.

“so… i mean, know that we’ve known each other previously, do you still want to do this? if not, no harm done, and i promise i won’t tell anyone if you don’t tell anyone about me.” you asked softly, picking up on hyunjin’s hesitance - not that it was hard, he wore all his emotions on his sleeve.

“no! no, i still want to do this.. i guess i’m just.. surprised? i never expected jae to be someone i knew.”

you grinned at that, reaching out to grab his hand across the table comfortingly.

“i get it. i didn’t expect you to be someone i knew, either. but honestly, this works really well for me. you’re hot, and i feel more comfortable knowing you’re not a complete stranger.”

he flushed at your words, but hoped you couldn’t tell under the dim lights of the bar.

“do you wanna get a couple of drinks before we head back to mine? maybe some shots, just to ease the nerves? my teat.” you smiled, pulling out your purse as hyunjin shook his head rapidly.

“no, no i can pay for my drinks!”

“hyunjin,” you laughed. “its fine. got a big tip last night, nearly $600 dollars from a private stream. my treat.” you insisted, taking his drink order before wandering over to the bar.

he couldn't help the way he watched your ass as you walked, the tight skirt doing nothing to help his already raging boner. if he’d known you were so confident, he would’ve made a move on you sooner. in all honesty, hyunjin had always had an eye for you - you were so, so pretty. the whole nerdy thing you had going on really turned him on too - you seemed so innocent, and it played into his whole corruption fantasy. but knowing now that it wasn’t true - that you were secretly a freak? it was a whole new level of turned-on. if he could, he would’ve ravished you in the toilet cubicles of the bar, but he was more classy than that. maybe next time.

before he could realize the implications of his thoughts, you came back over, passing him his drink before sipping on yours as you took a seat.

“so i was thinking we could cover the basics here? safe words, hard limits, that sort of thing? it seemed too impersonal to do over messages, you know?”

god, he didn’t think he could get more attracted to you. he barely could keep track of your conversation, only spaced-in enough to cover the most important topics. his cock throbbed in his jeans when you leaned over the table towards him, tits squeezing together perfectly under your tiny shirt. the skirt you wore hugged your hips in a way that had hyunjin trying not to drool, and your thighs looked so, so biteable in contrast to the material adorning them.

he was so out of it, he couldn’t even trace the moment that you’d left the bar to go back to your apartment, not until you pushed him against the back of the door and asked him to kiss you with big doe eyes.

and how could he refuse? when you looked up at him like he was the only god you could ever submit to? when you begged so nicely? when your hands tightened on his shirt in anticipation?

he gripped your jaw, pulling your face up to meet his as he kissed you in a flurry of clashing teeth and spit. he wanted to be gentle, to be careful with you, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed you so bad, and it was like his body was acting on its own accord.

like when he flipped your positions, so you were the one pressed against the door. a moan left your lips and went tumbling into his at the way our back hit the door, and he felt himself throb at how pretty you sounded. he was quick to hoist one of your legs over his hip, pressing his body against your as much as he could.

as his tongue entered your mouth, battling yours for dominance which you inevitably surrendered to him, he grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feel of your skin making him groan against you.

he was quick to pull away from your mouth with a pop, smirking as you whined before attaching his plump lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. you keened, back arching against the door and pushing your tits against him perfectly. he tapped your ass harshly, before lifting at your other leg, hinting for you to jump as he wrapped your legs around his waist, effectively trapping you against the door.

the display of strength had you clenching around nothing, hands tugging at his hair as you panted and whined into the darkness of your apartment.

“bedroom, hyun. take me to my bedroom.” you whimpered as he bit down on your jugular, rocking your hips against him. “last door on the right.”

he grunted in response, carrying you across the expanse of your apartment, kicking open your bedroom door when he reached it. he was fast to kick it shut behind him, dropping you onto the bed once close enough and looking down at you with eyes so blown-out with lust he looked feral.

you felt small under his gaze, embarrassment flushing across you in a way it hadn’t in a long time. cam work and your nsfw twitter had built a whole new confidence in you - you felt like femme fatale, someone who could have boys falling to their knees to worship the ground she walked on, only to have hyunjin blow it all away within moments. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d wanted someone this bad, and you were damned sure you were going to make him give you what you wanted.

your hand slipped down to your skirt, lifting the material as you slipped your panties to the side, looking up at him with doe eyes as your finger circled your clit. you were so wet it was unreal, and he could’ve sworn you were about to start dripping all over the bed below you.

“gonna fuck me now, hyunie? gonna make me feel good like you promised so many times on twitter? need you so bad, need you to fill me up.” your words drawled out slightly slurred, the visual of his cock jumping beneath his jeans making you involuntarily clench around nothing. but oh, it made something in your mind click, smirking as you enticed him even more with your teasing.

“why don’t we stream it, yeah? then everyone can see what a fucking slut you are for me?”

he growled in response, lunging forward to push your thighs apart as far as they could, his eyes fixed on your cunt, slick dripping out of your greedy hole.

“oh, i’m a slut, hmm? well then, we don’t we show your viewers how quickly you’re going to cream on my cock, yeah? make them watch as you beg me to cum inside of you, have my cum dripping out of you as a reminder of how bad you want me?”

you were so caught off guard at the change of demeanor that he showed, you didn’t even realize that he’d floated over to your computer, which had your streaming site booted up in the background in case of an impromptu stream - just like now, you supposed.

turning back to you, his face had relaxed and his eyes showed concern.

“are you sure about this, what about if they accidentally see your face?” your heart warmed at his worry, shaking your head in response.

“i don’t care. collab stream with you and face reveal? two birds with one stone, just need you to hurry up and fuck me.”

at your words, his face hardened again, and he smirked, typing in the title for the stream and turning it on. instantly, pings from your computer informed you that people were joining, and it had you more turned on - if that were even possible.

‘face reveal + a special guest: surprise lovelies xoxo ~ jaecums // callmehhj’

“gonna let me ravish you now, then? let sir turn you into a brainless cumdump on his cock?”

your eyes fluttered, threatening to roll to the back of your head as hyunjin approached you once more, biting your lip as you nodded, whining out a yes.

“come on, princess. you gotta use your words for me, yeah? how else will i know what my slutty girl wants?” he asked, faux sympathy dripping from his voice as he knelt on the end of the bed, long fingers circling your hole.

“please, sir, please, need you, need you to fuck me so bad, sir, please-!”

your words were cut off as he removed himself from the bed, kneeling on the floor and pulling you towards him by your thighs. your legs hung over his shoulders, ass perched on the edge of the bed as he kissed softly up your thighs.

“gotta let me hear those pretty moans as i eat you out first, though. gonna make you cum on my face before my cock even goes near you.”

you keened as he pushed his face against your core, nose swiping against your clit as he flattened his tongue against you. “oh, fuck–!”

he hummed in appreciation, the vibrations making your hips buck against him as he messily made out with your clit, spit and arousal dripping down onto his chin. your hands laced their way through hyunjin’s long hair, grip tightening every time he decided to tease you by dipping his tongue into your hole.

his fingers were digging into your skin deliciously, and you were sure you’d have marks left behind to remind you that this wasn’t just a fever dream. your moans were bouncing off the walls, and even then you could hear the messy slurping of hyunjin gathering all of your arousal that he could into his mouth.

he was like a man starved between your legs, and it had your stomach tightening unbelievably fast. there was no way– you’d never come this fast, especially from oral. was hyunjin superhuman? you couldn’t believe that you were already feeling a coil tightening and a warm tingling spreading up through your body already.

your hands threaded further through his hair, hips bucking wildly as you tugged his face deeper into your core. “oh, shit– oh fuck, sir, m’gonna cum–!” you cried, toes curling as you tried to fend off your building release. “please! pleasepleaseplease-!” your words came out slurred, and hyunjin smirked to himself between your legs as he pulled away from your swollen clit with a pop.

he quickly replaced his lips with his fingers, rubbing delicate figure-eights on your bud while he looked up at you with faux doe eyes. “gonna cum, yeah? you gonna cum for me, baby?”

but it wasn’t enough for you as tears sprung behind your eyes, digging the heels of your feet into his shoulders. “please, sir-! please, let me cum for you, please!”

hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly before his face hardened once more and his fingers sped up on your clit. he began pressing kisses to your thighs, biting and sucking at the plush skin.

“go on, princess. cum for me. cum all over sir’s face, yeah?”

and as soon as the words left his mouth, he pushed his nose against your bud, tongue lapping at your hole and the coil in your stomach snapped. you keened, back arching as your juices flooded hyunjin’s mouth, him moaning against your core in appreciation.

he stayed nestled between your thighs until your legs started twitching in overstimulation and you began pushing his head away. but god, he’d never get over the way you tasted. it was official - he’d never be able to give any other girl oral because it would never be as perfect as the way your thighs wrapped around his head. he was a goner.

hauling himself onto his feet, hyunjin wrapped an arm around your back to pull you to meet him halfway in a sloppy kiss, the taste of your slick falling from his mouth to yours. you moaned against his lips, hands falling to grip onto him any way you could before realizing he was still fully dressed. you sharply pulled away from the kiss, brows furrowed and lower lips falling out in a pout.

“take it off,” you grumbled, pulling at the material of his shirt, frown only deepening when he chuckled at you. but you could forgive him for that, you could forgive him for anything - especially when he looked that fucking good. planes of muscled, honey skin exposed to you, and you wanted nothing more than to pin him down and cover him in bites and bruises. however, you didn’t think he’d let you get away with that, so you let your hands fall to his belt, quickly undoing it in hopes he’d get the hint.

as he began removing the offending items, you slipped your skirt and top off, leaving you in just a lacy bra, to which hyunjin grinned. “so desperate for me, huh? wasn’t enough that i made you cum once, was it? my greedy girl.”

“need you inside me, please,” you whimpered, reaching out to pull him towards you. “need you to fuck me, sir, come on.”

he leaned down to plant a kiss on your head, before stepping away to retrieve a condom from his wallet. it was in that moment of silence that you could truly appreciate how many pings were coming from your computer, an indication of how much people were enjoying the stream. you were kind of excited to see how many tips you got, and were curious to see if hyunjin would easily accept half of whatever you made - he seemed like the type of guy to refuse, but you could be just as stubborn.

when he came back, he had put the condom on his length, and you nearly drooled seeing it up close. his dick was…. well, gorgeous. there was no other way to put it, and you knew damn well that you were going to be screaming with pleasure faster than you ever had.

“gonna fuck you so full of me, yeah? let everyone see what a dirty bitch you really are.”

he clambered on top of you, kneeling with one hand next to your hip and the other on his length to guide it against your hole. he’d barely put the tip in before you moaned, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how fucked out you were.

“calm down, love. let me at least get inside you before you go all brainless.”

but you couldn’t help the way you writhed and keened as he pushed ever-so-slowly further into you, not stopping until he was sheathed inside you, his public bone resting against your plush thighs.

he had his lower lip tucked between his teeth to stop himself from drowning out your pretty whimpers, but also to ground himself - you felt so warm and tight, it took everything in him not to nut straight away. he couldn’t. you deserved to squirt all over him before he even considered finishing.

you reached for his arm, fingers coming to grip the muscle as he began to shallowly thrust, the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls making your head fall back as you let out a contented sigh. you didn’t think you’d ever felt so full in your life, and it was heavenly. every vein on his cock, every twitch, the way his tip stretched you out so perfectly for the rest of him. oh yeah, you could die happy now.

your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him against you as he rocked his hips, not wanting to overwhelm you and pound into you how he wanted. his eyes bored into your skin, making you blush at the way he held such affection for you in his pretty eyes. it was freeing, and overwhelming, and heartwarming all at once.

once you’d been reasonably adjusted to his size, he pulled his hips back as far as your grip would allow him, leaving just the tip inside, before thrusting forward against such force it sent your body back up the bed at least an inch. you cried out, clenching on him as drool began pooling at your lips from your want— no, your need for him to ruin you.

“please, sir,” you slurred, fingers gripping at his skin as tight as the heat in your body would let you. “fuck me properly, please. wanna make a mess, wanna make you cum.”

he then growled at your words, hips speeding up almost instantly. your body rocked in its spot on the bed, tits bouncing with the pure force he was driving into you at.

the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and if you strained your ears you could hear the squelching noise your pussy made as your arousal dripped out, coating the sheets beneath you.

you knew you’d get a noise complaint from your neighbor if you kept squealing the way you were, but you couldn’t help it. especially not when hyunjin bit down on your neck, tongue rubbing over the sensitive skin, making you let out an almost animalistic howl.

it felt like he was hitting the deepest parts of you, and you couldn’t get enough of it. the way his hair swayed, the way sweat was dripping down his forehead, the way he looked at you like he wanted nothing more than to tie you down and use you as his own personal sex toy. even the way he moaned when you clenched around him, god you were obsessed.

you felt a fire building in your abdomen as he leant back on his knees, eyes trained on watching his cock glide in and out of you, and you held your legs up to your chest to give him a better view. at that, he threw his head back and let out a heavenly groan, causing you to clench around him once again.

you snaked a hand down to your clit, rubbing it furiously as the leg it was holding fell into place naturally on hyunjin’s shoulder. you were so aching close, so close you could feel your walls begging for it, but you just needed a final push.

hooking your foot around his neck, you pushed hyunjin towards you, instantly grabbing his lips with your own. it was messy, and disgusting, but you loved it. all drool, and teeth clashing, tongues wrapped around each other like that's how they’d always been.

the new angle allowed hyunjin to reach ever deeper - hitting the deepest parts of you that you didn’t even know where possible. he reached a hand up to tweak at your nipple, and you whined into his mouth as it sent you hurling into an orgasm, back arching to push your chests together.

the way you clamped down on him sent him head-first into his own release, his hips stuttering as you felt each throb of his cock as he filled the condom. you were both breathing heavily, almost panting as he pulled away from this kiss, thrusting shallowly a few more times to ride you both through your release.

your chest was heaving, and you felt like you’d ascended. all floaty and gooey, head sinking into the pillow beneath it as your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. hyunjin peppered a few soft kisses across your cheeks as he carefully pulled out, rubbing your hips comfortingly when you winced.

“good?” he asked quietly, so quiet that your computer wouldn’t pick it up, and you nodded without opening your eyes.

“so good.”

you felt him crawl backwards and leave the bed, opening your bleary eyes to follow his figure around the room. you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet, though. you thought all your bones had disappeared and you’d sink straight back into the bed if you tried.

once he’d come back to the bed from ending the stream and tossing the used condom in the bin, he scooped you into his arms and planted a soft kiss on your temple.

“you’re staying tonight, right?” you asked softly, nuzzling your head against him. “don’t think i can let you go after that.” exhaustion flooded your voice and he chuckled.

“course i am, silly. but we gotta get you showered, okay? then i can order in some food and we can watch a movie or something, yeah?”

you nodded softly.

“join me in the shower?”

“oh, i don’t think that’s a good idea, princess. you’re shattered.”

“please, jinnie,” you pleaded, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “need you to cum down my throat before anything else, and sharing a shower means saving water, after all.”

he laughed at your enthusiasm, and nodded, agreeing.

“okay. okay, whatever you want. but then - food and sleep, okay?” he grinned, scooping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom.

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hispg · 9 months

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Just one more time

Pairings: Di! Leon x fem reader

Wc: 6.2k

Summary: Your ex husband want to have his family life again, he needs it.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, mentions of alcoholism, exes to lovers(I guess).

Notes: this man have a choke hold on me, isn't even healthy anymore 😭😭

Today was another weekend like any other. Your youngest daughter was going to stay with her father, your ex-husband, Leon. He had already come to pick her up at your apartment and consequently took the little one to his house, as usual.

For now, you were getting ready cautiously, as you didn't have much free time, you decided that today you would go out with some friends, to relax and have fun, after all you needed it.

So you looked at yourself in the large bedroom mirror, admiring yourself in that tight red dress, which highlighted your curves in a gentle but incredibly sexy way. Your hair was tidy, loose, free in the wind, but with not a single strand out of place. Just as you took care of your make-up, you did it with all possible care, from eyeliner to lipstick, all the accessories you put on, which enhanced your beauty even more.

And there you were, admiring yourself in that mirror, turning around and around, it was just a hang out with your friends, of course, but it was the first time you'd given yourself a chance to go out since the end of your marriage to Leon, so it was an important night, to say the least.

Finally, you wore the cologne you always used, and the scent permeated the room and your clothes, sweet and warm, just like you.

One last look, and you were ready. Beautiful, stunning, as usual.

And then you heard a 'ding dong', at this point, you thought it was one of your friends, who had arrived earlier to pick you up? Maybe.

You leave your room and go to the door, but your expectation that it was one of your friends ends at the same moment that you hear a child's cry, which was all too familiar.

As soon as you open the door, you find Leon, staring at you a little blankly as he comforts the little girl, your daughter, who is crying inconsolably in his arms.

"Oh... I'm sorry... I know it was my weekend with her. But ever since I took her, she hasn't stopped crying. She wants to be with you." Leon says, his voice calm and low, as he rocks the little one gently, murmuring sweet words to calm her down.

"No problem, come in." You offer, and he accepts without a second thought.

You quickly closed the door and turned your attention to the little girl, who was sobbing in Leon's arms.

"Princess, do you want to come into Mommy's arms?" You ask the little girl gently while stroking her brown hair.

The little girl nodded eagerly, raising her little hands for you to take her from Leon's arms.

And so you did, cradling her in your arms, as if her life depended on it. Leon had a worried, even sad look on his face. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand that he felt bad that he hadn't managed to make things go back to the way they were before.

"I don't want to go with Daddy anymore." The little girl whispered, her sobs muffled by the fact that she was buried in your shoulders, crying harder than you expected.

The phrase made Leon's heart bleed, God, how bad it felt to hear it from his own daughter. The words came out slurred from the little girl's mouth, but deep down, that's how she really felt.

"My darling, you know that just as mommy loves you, Daddy loves you too, mh?" You tried to console the little girl by saying these beautiful words, which meant everything, because it was the purest truth.

Leon didn't need to say anything. You knew he was trying to hold back his tears at that moment. You didn't even need to look at him to know.

He hated to think that as well as losing you, he could lose his little girl. And he couldn't deal with that thought. It was too much for him.

He couldn't lose the two people he loved most in the world like that. No, it was too much for him to bear.

The little girl just replied with a simple 'mhm mhm', her sobs had subsided, and she seemed to be calmer now, even though she was still crying.

Leon sneaked up to her, gently stroking her little head, running his fingers through her hair, gently caressing her. He didn't dare speak. He just admired how calm the little girl was in her mother's arms, and he wondered if one day he could give her the same comfort. If he could be a safe haven for her, just as you were.

And he couldn't help but notice how much like you the little girl was, her face was exactly like yours, she had her father's blue eyes, she was beautiful like you, her dark hair was just like her father's. But still, Leon always saw that she was just like you. But even so, Leon always saw a little piece of you in her, and he thought that was one of the most beautiful things in his life.

He let himself hold her little hand and gently stroked it with his thumb. Although his gaze was fixed on the little one, from time to time, he looked at you.

"I want to sleep in your room, Mommy." The little girl whispered, her voice was shaky, but she seemed calmer.

"Of course, sweetheart." You said gently, smiling at her as you carried her in your arms.

Leon followed silently, following your every step all the way to your room, feeling a little more relieved that your daughter wasn't crying anymore, at least.

You reached your bedroom, where you gently laid the little one on the bed, wrapping her in the covers, making her very cozy.

You lay down next to her, propping yourself up with one of your elbows, your other hand stroking her hair. You signaled Leon to sit on the bed, which he did.

And there you were, comforting the little one until she fell asleep. And so it happened, ten or fifteen minutes later she fell asleep, and from the way she let out little snores from time to time, she wasn't going to wake up any time soon.

There was silence, nothing but the little one's breathing, along with the two of you.

A few minutes later, Leon clears his throat, plucking up the courage to speak.

"Can we talk?" He looks at you with those blue eyes that, behind their kindness, ooze genuine sadness.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" You ask softly, staring back at him.

He shook his head, running one hand through his hair, "No. Nothing's happened, I just want to talk to you. Can we?" You knew him too well, and you could tell for sure that although he wanted to appear confident, he was apprehensive.

"Sure, let's go to the kitchen. I can make us both some coffee." You give him a gentle smile, even though you already had some idea of where this conversation was going.

He nods, gets out of bed, and follows you into the kitchen. The walk was silent, nothing but your footsteps coming down the stairs, and consequently walking down the corridor to the kitchen.

Leon takes the liberty of sitting down at the table, smoothing his temple in an attempt to calm himself down a little.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" You ask nonchalantly, picking up the ingredients to make the coffee.

"Us. I want to talk about us." As expected of Leon, he didn't go round in circles. He said what he needed to, and that was that. And it would be no different now.

You look at him, not angrily, much less upset. But intrigued, did he still have feelings? Even after all these months?

You don't answer him. You just start preparing the coffee, and then he says it again, "I miss you. I still have feelings. I still love you." And he didn't expect you to answer him, let alone throw yourself into his embrace as if nothing had happened. He just wanted to open his heart to you.

He followed your figure with his gaze, admiring your silhouette in the kitchen, seeing how beautiful you were. How perfect you looked that night.

"That dress..." He murmured, looking you up and down once again.

You look at him with a little smile, looking at the dress too, "It was a present from you, you gave it to me for my birthday, remember?"

He nods with a slight smile, as if he has a pleasant memory about it.

"I remember you loved it when you saw it. You looked like a little child when you saw it in the vitrine." He says with amusement in his voice.

You can't help but giggle, "And when it was later that day, you arrived with the dress. I remember that night so well."

And he smiled, a genuine smile this time, "Me too, your joy is one of the most striking things in my memory."

You smiled back as you poured the coffee into the mugs, carefully carrying them to the table where he stood.

"Thanks." He murmurs, holding the mug in his hands.

You nodded, sitting down next to him and taking a sip of coffee.

And you stopped to notice him, his neat hair, the perfume he always wore. His shirt, along with his jacket and baggy pants. As always, he didn't stop being handsome for a single second.

Plus, you couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes and the slightly tired expression he had.

Your eyes wander to a small cut on his face, and you ask, "Another mission?"

He nods silently, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Do you think... we could try again?" He asks gently, but without looking at you.

You sigh, running your hands through your hair, before saying, "I don't know Leon... Things are complicated between us. Your work, your problems with alcohol. And it's just... complicated..."

He looks at you, those blue eyes that take your breath away every time that you could spend all day looking into.

"I know... I know I screwed everything up..." He admits between sighs.

You put your hand over his in a gesture of affection.

His eyes lit up, and he smiled.

"You know... I've been trying to change... I'm slowly cutting down on alcohol. Really... besides, I've been taking a break from work." And he seemed sincere. You had no reason to doubt him.

"That's good. That's great for you." A real smile appeared on your face, even though you had heard this phrase a few times before.

"I feel lonely without you." He finally says, sensitive words coming out in a whisper.

And in fact, it wasn't a lie. It was a reality. He said it from the bottom of his soul, from the bottom of his heart. You were his rock, the person he could share all the secrets, all the missions, all the shit that happened in his life. A confidant, who he could tell everything, and he wouldn't be judged. On the contrary, you would welcome him into your embrace, caressing him and advising him. Doing your best to make him feel safe, secure, so that finally, if only for a brief moment, he could just be Leon.

Without having to be the cool, cold, strategizing agent, no, with you, he was just Leon, and he just loved that.

He could be himself. He felt like that young man before things happened in Raccoon City, a normal man, with the woman he loved and the fruit of their love, a beautiful little girl.

With you, he felt free, to cry, to smile, to complain. For everything, he didn't have to fear, because you were a joy to him, you were what kept him sane every time he came home from those damn missions, every time he woke up in the morning, he couldn't wait to see your face beside him. Just to see you, sleeping like an angel next to him.

And you knew all this. You knew how lonely he felt, how closed off he could become. But you always found a way, a way for him to open up to you and trust you even more.

"I know... I know..." Was the only thing you could say because you also felt bad about the situation. How could you not? You had been hurt just as much as he had in this relationship.

"I know I made a mistake, I know. And I blame myself every day for it, but I wanted a chance. We can try, we can be a family again." This time, he intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly.

You find yourself staring at the now empty coffee mug. The gentle rain was falling outside, and from time to time, you could hear the drops falling on the window.

For some reason, this comfortable climate reminded you of when the two of you would lie on the sofa and watch a movie cuddling. As if nothing else mattered. And you missed it so much now.

You face him, plucking up the courage to say, "What if it's all the same? What if our relationship ends the same way?"

They were fair questions. After all, despite being a man of his word, Leon might not keep his word. At the end of the day, he was a human being like any other, and he could make mistakes just the same.

He was quick to squeeze your hand and gently planted a kiss on your palm, "I swear, I promise you it will be different. I've changed, I'm trying my best to be a good father to our daughter. Just as if you let me, I want to be a better husband."

And that was enough to make your heart skip beats. You wanted to throw yourself into his arms, hug him, kiss him madly, as if nothing else mattered.

But your mind said no, but your heart screamed and cried out for him. How could you ignore him? He was the man you loved, right there, willing to try again.

"Leon... I don't know... it's not that I don't trust you, I just... get apprehensive, you know?" And you were being honest, but you still didn't have the courage to face him. And once again, you find yourself staring at the empty mug, looking for any other distraction.

"I know, I'm not asking you to forgive me now. You can take as long as you like, but all I'm asking is that you think. I want another chance, just this once." His voice was clear, full of affection.

And again, your body betrays you. You surrender to his words, an almost indiscreet smile appears on your face, God, you wanted him so much. Just as he wanted you.

There's no explanation, you're made for each other, you're soul mates, there's no other reason.

Those blue eyes, scanning you, looking for any sign, any little sign.

And as a way of trying to lighten the mood, you took your mug and his and washed them.

And for a moment, his eyes grew sad. He didn't want to let go of your hand, let alone have you move away from him.

He sighed audibly, leaning back a little more in his chair. His eyes didn't stop following you for a single minute.

A few minutes after washing the mugs, you lean against the sink, cross your arms, and look at Leon with a discreet smile. You're trying to find the right words to say to him.

"You can..." You stop talking mid-sentence, your eyes roaming around the kitchen nervously.

And that was more than enough to catch his attention, who approached you, standing in front of you.

"What? Do you want to tell me something?" Leon asks, with a clear tone of curiosity in his voice.

You smiled a little shyly, feeling like a silly young girl at the moment, "Can you sleep here?"

And that seemed to take him by surprise, but not in a bad way. It didn't take long for a broad smile to appear on his face, as if you had just given him news that would brighten his night, and indeed it would.

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." He gently takes both your hands, caresses them, and plants a kiss on each.

You giggled, letting yourself be carried away by the moment. Meanwhile, the rain was getting worse outside, and the weather was getting a little worse outside, but that only made it more comfortable inside your house.

"So... shall I take you to your room? It's getting late." Leon tells you, but you both know it's just another excuse for you to cuddle and spend at least one night together.

"Yes... we can go there." You take his hand, gently guiding him to your room.

However, he stops you, soon carrying you in his arms. Carrying you in a bridal style.

"Leon... you don't have to..." You whispered, but it was clear that you loved being cuddled like this in his arms.

"I want to, please. I want to feel you in my arms." And he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, snuggling you even closer into his arms.

And you never ceased to be impressed by him, the way he carried you so easily, even when you were pregnant, he carried you as if you were just a feather.

And to be honest, he loved it, loved how lovely you felt in his arms, how safe he made you feel.

After a while, you both arrive in the bedroom, only to see your daughter sleeping peacefully in your bed. She looked like a little angel.

"I'm taking her to her room." Leon whispers to you as he gently sets you down.

And soon he too carried the little girl up to her room, not taking long to return. And as soon as he walked back into your room and saw your figure sitting on the bed, looking at him with that adorable smile, he couldn't help but let a sly grin escape.

In the blink of an eye, there he was, embracing you as he gently laid you down on the bed, holding you tightly in his arms.

"You have no idea how much I miss you..." A muffled voice comes from Leon's lips as he rests his head on your chest.

And you start playing with his hair, stroking it from time to time.

"I know... I miss you too, Lee..." And his heart fluttered when you called him that, the nickname you gave him yourself, and he loved it every time you called him that.

He squeezed you tighter, grabbing your waist and pulling you to him. Not in a rough way, but strong enough to hold you in place. And on that cold night, you felt that your bed was warm, and more than that, it was cozy, inviting. And that's just because Leon was there, that's all. He had that effect, that effect on you, if the two of you were together, even the worst of situations became tolerable.

"You don't know how self-controlled I am. All I want to do is kiss you, you're stunning tonight." And you could feel his fingers moving gently on your hips, making little circles.

You giggled again, "I think I can imagine."

He smiled along with you, starting to kiss and nibble your neck affectionately, without rushing, just doing it passionately.

You let out a heavy breath, clinging tighter to him. At this point, your heart was pounding. You felt like a teenager again, feeling silly and youthful.

And in an even gentle way, he began to caress your thighs, giving them light squeezes.

While he was still kissing and nibbling on your neck, which gradually became more intense.

"That's good, Lee..." You let out a slight gasp, which was basically music to his ears.

"I know, babe. I know." His teeth drag across your skin, a sensation that could easily give you goosebumps.

His hand went under your dress, giving him the opportunity to caress your bare skin, which made him even more aroused.

And you let a soft moan escape from your lips, as soon as you felt his warm hands touch your thighs. And you realized how much you missed him, how much you missed his touch and his love, and of course, so did he.

And slowly, he began to move upwards with his mouth, going all over your neck until he reached your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses. Soon, he was on your cheeks, and finally, pressing a hot, passionate kiss to your lips.

The way you two kissed, while romantic, could be considered thirsty because you wasted no time in sliding your tongues into each other's mouths, deepening the kiss quickly. As if the two of you couldn't wait another second.

"Fuck... I've missed you so much." He says in a husky voice, his thumb rubbing your lower lip affectionately.

And frankly, the way you looked at him, the way your lips were parted and you were gasping for breath, was enough to fill his body with lust.

And once again he captures your lips in a sensual kiss, now beginning to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass, pushing you even harder against him.

"Leon..." You moan into his lips, letting him squeeze and caress your body however he wants.

He gives you a little smile, biting your bottom lip in response.

"I'll make it worth your while, don't worry." He whispers, now he's playing with the flaps of your panties, gently caressing your soft skin.

And you took the liberty of sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling his strong, chiseled chest. Your fingers explored every corner, as if for the first time, and you could bet he was enjoying it, the way he let out sweet whispers against your lips.

And he broke away from you for a moment, only to remove his shirt and jacket, making you salivate at the privileged view of his chest.

"You know I love it when you look at me like that, don't you?" He teases, as he watches you bite your lower lip.

You sit on the bed, leaning on his waist as you kiss and lick his chest, just the way he loved it.

And you can see the lust shining in his eyes, a fervor that wouldn't cease any time soon. He put one hand in your hair, smoothing it while saying sweet words of encouragement, because more than anything he wanted you to continue.

And slowly you reached for his belt, and you could already see the bulge forming in his pants, and you used your fingers to caress the spot, eliciting a soft grunt from him.

And there you were again, giving him soft, gentle kisses over the bulge in his pants, just as a way of teasing him even more, and he seemed to be enjoying it, as his hips trembled from time to time.

And when you finally removed his belt and unbuttoned his pants, leaving him with just his boxers. He took a deep breath, in a way to contain himself, to regain his composure.

"No... no, darling." With a slight push, he lifts your face, making you look at him, you had a confused expression, then asked, "Don't you want to?"

He smiles and nods, "I want it more than anything, but tonight, tonight I'm going to pamper you. I'm going to pamper you from head to toe."

And with that he lays you back on the bed, standing over you and whispering sweet words, "Tonight I'm going to make my redemption. For making you feel alone in this marriage," he begins to kiss your cheeks, pressing your body against him.

"Tonight I'm going to show you how loved and adored you are by me, understand? I'm going to do what I should have done at our marriage."

And with that, he kissed your entire face, your cheeks, forehead, lips, nose, every corner of your face.

His hands danced all over your body, caressing and squeezing, massaging every tense spot on your body. He wanted you to be completely relaxed because he was going to take care of you tonight.

You just nodded, letting yourself be carried away by him, letting him take complete control of the situation because at the end of the day, you didn't give a damn. You needed it as much as he did.

He pulled your dress up to your waist, and you felt the cold air hit your bare skin, but it soon passed when you felt his big, warm hands on your thighs. Massaging each spot, kissing and nibbling lightly, and drawing moans from your lips.

"God... you're going to ruin me like this," You teased, looking at him with a playful smile.

But his naughty grin was the perfect response, "That's my intention, baby."

And a lovely sound falls from your mouth as his fingers barely touch your wet surface, and you can feel your soaked panties.

He kissed and nibbled your inner thighs, dragging his tongue there from time to time, keeping one hand on your hips, to steady you, and the other stroking your core over the cheap fabric of your panties.

Involuntarily, your hips began to move against his hand, desperately seeking more friction.

"My pretty girl, are you that wet? Just for a few touches, mh?" He teases, sliding your panties aside with one of his fingers, threatening to put it inside, the tip of his finger caressing your entrance.

"Mhmm..." You whimpered, looking at him with a sly face, almost begging him to continue.

And he giggled, sliding your panties down between your legs, taking them off and throwing them in a corner of the room.

And there was that vision of paradise in his eyes, your pussy wet, dripping, all because of him.

He just laughed again, shaking his head, "You know damn well I can't resist you." And without giving you a choice, he buried his head between your legs, holding you firmly by the hips, preventing you from squirming.

"Leon.. God." You moaned shyly, feeling him give you sloppy kisses all over your intimate area, sliding his tongue around the spot, making you even more excited.

"My baby is always so wet for me, always ready for me. You're a naughty girl, but I can't complain." He smiles, sliding his tongue into your center, almost starting to enter your entrance.

You gasp, your body arching at the delicious sensation of his hot muscle working on your needy cunt.

With his thumb he stroked your clit, making circular movements, calm and firm, he knew exactly where to touch you.

"Fuck... Leon..." You whined, putting one of your hands on his head, pushing him towards you.

He grunted, but didn't complain. On the contrary, he grabbed onto your legs and started fucking you with his tongue, without the slightest mercy.

"Holy shit, oh... oh..." You moaned audibly, thrusting your hips against his lips looking for more contact, as if that were possible.

You felt so close, head empty and heavy, body hot and bothered. You were close, but so close. And he didn't help either, he ate you like a caged animal that hadn't had a meal in months.

"Cum on my tongue, go on. Do it for me," and once again he planted lazy kisses on your intimate area, licking and kissing, not stopping to caress your clit for a second.

And to finish, he pinched lightly on your clit, dragging his tongue all over your pussy, which was enough for you to moan his name out loud, pushing him against you even more. Your thighs pressed against his head, and he loved it.

He loved it when you held him like this, giving him the opportunity to continue kissing you after orgasm.

"Oh...oh... God." You whispered, your lips parted as you breathed heavily, your body trembling and sweaty. The sensation was too good, impossible to regain consciousness that quickly.

"Good girl, you taste fucking good, you know that, don't you?" Leon says, licking his lips and wiping his fingers, licking slowly to feel the sweetness he loved so much.

You smile at him, still catching your breath from the intense orgasm. And before he did anything else, he finished taking off your dress, taking off your bra with it.

And now you were completely exposed to him, and you could see that gleam in his eye, an unusual hard-on, which he only felt for you. Only you.

Without wasting much time, he removes his boxers, and his member almost jumps out. Hard and ready, with a little of pre-cum running down the head of his dick.

"You're perfect, just perfect." He murmurs to you, looking your naked body up and down, masturbating at the sight.

"Be good to me and spread those beautiful legs, mh? Can you spread them for me, princess?" And as if it were an order you obeyed, spreading your legs and giving him the perfect angle.

"Yes, good girl." He pressed your knees together, directing them towards your chest, slowly fitting himself into you.

And it worked like magic. He positioned himself between your legs, stroking his member before putting it into you, little by little, centimeter by centimeter.

You both moaned as you felt him go all the way in, stretching your tight, velvety walls.

Soon, he was all the way in, leaning some of his weight on you, holding onto his elbows, while you wrapped your legs around his hips, preventing him from moving away.

"Fuck, I've already put a baby in you, and you're still this tight," He growled in your ear, starting to thrust harder.

And all you could do was mumble things here and there, most of which made no sense. You had no control over yourself at this point, you just wanted to surrender to him, and that's what you did.

Skin colliding with skin, you scratching his back as his name kept escaping your lips, and he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

And he'd leave you whimpering loudly as soon as he hit one of your sweet spots, the way he'd hit that spot, he knew all your weaknesses, when he could and couldn't touch, what it's like when to touch, he knew perfectly.

"What about these tits here?" He teases, while with one hand, he caresses and plays with your nipples. Stretching between his fingers, it was a little uncomfortable, but it was good in a way.

"Ohh..mhmm.." All you could say was as soon as he put his warm mouth on your right breast, and his hand caressed and massaged the left one.

His tongue curled around your nipple as he sucked on your breast like there was no tomorrow, and it was sure to leave a mark the next day.

All you could hear in that room was the moans of pleasure, the bodies crashing against each other.

And with a 'pop' noise, he removed his mouth from your breast. Smiling at you in a cheeky way, seeing how surrendered to him you were.

"You're close, aren't you? Why don't you act like a good girl and cum for me, Hm?" And God, those words could get you off the ground in a matter of seconds.

As a way of stimulating you further, he starts massaging your clit in circles, helping you reach your limit even more.

"Leon... ahhh. Leon." You moaned desperately, nails digging into his back, legs wrapped around him as a way of holding on even tighter. You can be sure that tomorrow those nail marks would be clearly visible on his back.

"Yeah, come on, fuck - if you keep squeezing me like that, I'm going to cum too." He grunted, grinding his hips into you.

He was losing himself more and more, your pussy squeezing him tighter and tighter, and you could feel his cock twitching in you, more and more.

"Mhm.. Leon, I'm gonna cum." You murmured, feeling your body go further with his touches.

As a quick response, he started thrusting even faster, his cock slamming into your deepest places, hitting your g-spot again and again.

And there you go, your head goes blank, your body writhes and you let out a loud moan, calling out his name. Your body arched sharply, crashing into Leon's chest. I don't even need to tell you what a mess you've made of his cock, your fluids making it even wetter.

All he did was give you a satisfied smile, crushing his lips against yours, giving you a hot, sloppy kiss.

And now he pressed your legs against your chest, putting you in a mating press. Smashing his cock into you, hard and deep, he was searching for his own limit. And it certainly wouldn't be long because of the way you held him, your warm, wet walls sucking him inside, like the most impure image in the world.

And with one final thrust he finished inside, letting moans and grunts of pleasure come from his lips. And there was the scene, he filled you with his cum, which was deep inside you. And it was a strangely good feeling, you felt full when it happened.

And as soon as he'd finished, he lay on top of you, crushing you with his weight, but he was still holding on so he wouldn't fall all over you.

And there you both were, covered in a thin layer of sweat, panting and bodies glued together, still connected in the most intimate way possible.

"I fucking love you. Do you hear me?" he whispers, looking at you with the gentlest, most adoring eyes.

You smile, a tired but satisfied smile, "I know, I love you too." Sincere and simple words that came out of you, but that left him in a state of ecstasy.

He was quick to bring your lips together in a passionate kiss, embracing you gently.

That's what he wanted to hear, he needed reassurance, reassurance that he could try again. That he could win you back again, and he wouldn't stop until that happened.

"I'm going to make you mine again, my sweet wife." He murmurs into your lips, full of affection and tenderness.

You giggle, running your hand through his dark hair. You knew how insistent he was, and that he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted.

And after a few more kisses, he lay down next to you, tired of holding his own weight. And then he took your left hand, where you wore your wedding ring, then grabbed your ring finger and played with it.

"I'm going to make you wear a wedding ring again, do you hear me? I'm going to make you marry me again, no matter what I have to do." He smiles gently, giving your palm a few kisses.

"I'll wait for that, Kennedy." You tease him in a playful way, pinching his cheeks.

And for a moment, he thought, and then began to speak, "You know, how about tomorrow we spend the day together? Me, you, and our daughter? We can watch some movies in the morning, and in the afternoon we can go for a walk in the park." He suggested excitedly, hoping that you would accept.

And you smiled so broadly that you couldn't hide it. You grabbed him in a tight hug.

"Of course, of course. It'll be great." You answered him just as excitedly.

And then he put your hair behind your ear, holding your face with both hands, then he began to talk in a more seductive way, "And in the night, we can go out for dinner. Just you and me, what do you think? I can call Claire, and she can stay with our daughter. And we'll both have the whole night to ourselves. Sounds good?" He knew you too well, and of course you wouldn't reject his proposal, not even if you wanted to.

You nodded eagerly, hugging him once more.

He smiled, returning the hug.

"Let's go to sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a great day." And he was going to make sure of it, you bet.

It wasn't long before the two of you were cuddling, getting lost in each other's caresses. The familiarity of being safe in your lover's arms made you fall asleep quickly, just as he fell asleep right after you. He couldn't ask for more. He was close to you, and he would try anything to make your relationship work this time, and he would make his promise count.

Because this time he was going to be the man you needed, the husband he should have been, he was going to do the right things this time. He was going to make you the happiest woman in the universe, just as you, just by being close to him, made him the happiest man in the world.

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon x you #leon smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon x y/n #leon scott kennedy #death island leon #di leon

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roosterforme · 8 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You should be finishing your school work so you can ace your finals and graduate, but Bradley coaxes you to take a study break at the Hard Deck. While there, Bradley realizes just what life is going to look like with you by his side, and he takes a minute to remind both of you who you belong with. And then he helps you study the way only he can.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

On Friday morning, when Bradley got to work, he walked right over to Nat where she was sipping a coffee in the hangar. Her eyes were wide, clearly anxious to hear some more details about Meredith, but Bradley just walked right into her arms and hugged her.

She kissed his cheek and whispered, "What happened? Aside from the glorious fact that Merebitch has to fuck off now!"

"I'm being deployed."

"No!" she gasped, hugging him tighter as she set down her coffee. "Will you need help with Noah?"

"Nope," he said with a smile as he pulled away from her a few inches. "For once, I got that part covered."

She listened as he told her all about Wednesday in the courtroom and how you agreed to stay at his house the whole time he was deployed. He was in the process of adding you as a temporary guardian for Noah. He was also going to add you to his credit cards as an authorized user, but you were definitely going to protest. If he had any way of getting your social security number, he would have already done it behind your back.

"Oh, I see," Nat replied with a smirk. "Your babysitter is going to be staying with Noah? For six weeks?"

"Girlfriend, actually," Bradley replied smoothly.

Nat looked pleased. "I still maintain that you have me to thank for that. If I hadn't downloaded that dating app on your phone, none of this would have ever happened. Now tell me I'm the best."

Bradley rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. "You're the best, Nat."

"Yes," she agreed. "And I'll help your girlfriend with Noah while you're away. Make sure you tell her to come to me if she needs anything. Anything at all."

"Thanks, Nat," he mumbled as he reached for his helmet. But Bradley knew you'd be just fine. Nat would be a safety net in case you needed something, and that helped put his mind even further at ease.

After a morning of training exercises, Bradley headed inside to eat lunch and check his text messages.

My Princess: Daddy, I'll be on campus until at least 6. Kind of panicking over how much work I still have to complete before graduation.

He knew this was partly his fault. He was the one who hadn't let you return to your little rental so you'd have some peace and quiet away from him and Noah. But you and he both seemed incapable of being apart now. The way he knew how your body felt tucked against his chest in the middle of the night had him desperate to keep you in his bed. And the way Noah was so attached to you, Bradley was convinced he'd start calling you mommy soon.

As he carried his lunch to one of the cafeteria tables, he texted you back to remind you that he'd help you finish up with your school work this weekend. But he also knew you needed to take a break tonight, so he texted someone else as well.

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You were exhausted by the time you got back to Bradley's house on Friday evening. The Bronco was already parked in the driveway, and you noticed that the boys must have played with some sidewalk chalk. As you made your way up to the door, there were pictures of dinosaurs, and Bradley had written We love Princess next to the front porch.

Quickly, you unlocked the front door and called out, "It's me!" Noah came running toward you from the kitchen, and you caught him in your arms.

"Daddy's making dinner," he informed you, and you rushed for the kitchen to investigate.

"Hey, Baby," Bradley said, smiling at you over his shoulder.

You set Noah down on one of the chairs where the table was covered with his coloring books. "You're cooking," you said in shock. "Do you want me to take over?"

"No, I got it," he replied, and you peeked in the pan to see he was making chicken stir fry. "The sexiest woman I ever met taught me how to cook this."

"Oh really? Where is she? I'd love to meet her," you said sarcastically. You were rewarded with Bradley's big hand smacking your rear end before he pulled you closer to him.

He kissed you while the food sizzled on the stovetop, and he murmured, "You had a long day. Let's go out after we eat."

You let his lips linger on yours, enjoying the rough feel of his mustache before he pulled away to focus on what he was cooking. "You want to take Noah out to see a movie or something?" you asked, reaching to pull out some plates. A movie would be really fun, but you also hated the idea of Bradley paying for your ticket along with everything else. He was no longer paying you to babysit Noah. And now that school was ending and you weren't being paid by the college for your work study, you had no income. "Or we could just do something fun here instead?"

"We're going out to the bar," he informed you easily as he turned the stove burner off.

You laughed and put your hands on your hips. "And what about Noah?"

"Got it covered, Princess."

"We actually do need to find him a new babysitter," you reminded Bradley as you glanced at where Noah was quietly folding up construction paper.

"I already did," Bradley promised, kissing your cheek and carrying plates of food to the table. "Amelia Benjamin will be here in about thirty minutes. I wouldn't trust her with Noah for six weeks or anything like that, but I'm sure we can get away for a few hours. Just you and I." He was looking at you intently, waiting for a response. You were honestly surprised he'd managed to set this all up today. "Baby, you need a little break, and Amelia is out of school for the summer," he added softly before he started to blow on Noah's dinner to cool it down.

"I really need to finish my school work," you reminded him as you sat down and tasted his chicken stir fry. It was pretty good, and he smiled as you took another big forkful.

"We have tomorrow and Sunday to work on that. I'll help you."

You were quiet for a moment as you ate. And then all you said in response was, "This is delicious. I can hardly believe you made it."

Bradley set his fork down and took your hand in his. "Come to the bar tonight. Now that I took you out to lunch yesterday, all I can think about is showing you off all the time, okay? Nat will be there, and I kind of already told her we'd be there, too."

"Fine," you said, agreeing with his plans. "But the rest of the weekend, I'll be working."

Bradley's smile held steady through dinner, and when Amelia arrived to watch Noah, he was still excited to be taking you out. You were promised that the evening was casual, so you changed into some jeans that were a little baggy on you and a button down shirt that you tied in the front so it was cropped a little bit. Bradley was in jeans and a colorful floral print shirt, and when he led you out to the Bronco, you offered to drive your car to the bar instead.

He opened the passenger side door of the Bronco and kissed you. "Don't want you wasting your money or gas or anything on me, Princess." And you climbed inside with the realization that you were in a very adult relationship here, and maybe you were in over your head.

--------------------------

Bradley tried to brace himself ahead of time. You were a headturner. Fucking stunning, even in your jeans and beat up Sperrys. But even though you had your fingers laced through his as he led you inside the Hard Deck, you drew the attention of at least half the guys in the place. So he withdrew his hand from yours and slipped his arm around our waist which did essentially nothing to stop the looks he was getting.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, and you looked up at him with such innocent eyes. He pulled you snug against him, and your hand came to rest just above the waistband of his jeans. His cock throbbed for you and that trusting look on your face. You just knew he was going to take care of whatever you needed, and it was going to make him hard if he didn't get control of himself now.

"A beer," you told him, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek next to your ear.

"I see Nat over by the pool table. Why don't you go wait for me over there while I get us some drinks." He squeezed your ass as you turned to walk away from him, earning him a heated gaze over your shoulder. And then he noticed that your eyes caught on something by the bar before you turned back to look at him briefly before you walked to the pool table.

When Bradley turned toward the bar, Helen was there, watching you walk across the crowded room with a scowl before she said, "Rooster," in a bland voice.

He had somehow managed to forget that Helen would be here tonight. Great. "Hey," he said awkwardly before he ordered two beers and watched her expertly pull two pints and slide them across the bar.

"I'll start a tab for you," she said, barely meeting his eyes. "You know, I'm surprised you brought her here. She looks like she's barely legal. And I don't mean that in a nice way. She's probably going to get into some shit." And then Helen turned to help the patron next to him as Bradley's eyes found you.

"Fuck," he grunted. You were leaning back against one of the posts as Harvard and Yale closed in on you. Yale was leaning close enough that you tried to pull away, only to end up pressed against Harvard.

"How old are you, Angel?" Yale asked as Bradley got closer.

You rolled your eyes and said, "I'm twenty four, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped touching me."

Harvard and Yale laughed at the same time, and then Harvard told you, "Maybe you don't know this yet, but girls fight over the chance to come home with us. We're roommates. And we're really good about...sharing."

When you glanced up, your expression was one of extreme annoyance before you met Bradley's eyes and smiled softly. "Then you can share each other," you said before stepping into Bradley's open arms, careful not to bump the beers.

"I see you met my girlfriend," Bradley said, his voice loud and deep as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

He kept his eyes on you while Harvard muttered an excuse and Yale repeatedly said, "Sorry, Rooster," until he was too far away to hear.

"Friends of yours?" you asked, reaching for one of the beers.

"Not really," he replied, watching you take a long sip. "I thought I told you to go wait by Nat."

You licked your glossy lips and said, "And I thought I'd never have to see that flower stealer ever again." You tipped your head toward Helen and held your chin high.

"Flower stealer?" he asked with a smirk.

"I could call her a wannabe homewrecking bitch, but we're in public," you deadpanned, and Bradley actually started laughing.

"Let's go," he said, taking you by the hand as he chuckled, leading you toward the pool table. He watched Nat light up and start asking you a million questions about Meredith and the court appearance even though he had explicitly asked her not to. And of course Jake was here, trying to discreetly check you out.

Bradley wasn't really sure why he had expected this evening to be a nice break for the two of you. He was constantly having to physically touch you in some way, otherwise you got cornered by someone. "Everyone here is so friendly," you remarked after your third beer. Bradley pressed his lips to the sheen of sweat on your pretty neck just as Omaha looked like he might be getting some ideas in his thick skull.

"Yeah," Bradley mumbled. "Or maybe you're just a smokeshow, Baby."

You giggled and asked, "Will you let me go get the next round? I kind of want to see what my buddy Helen has to say to me."

"Go right ahead. Get whatever you want, and put it on my tab."

"You want anything, Daddy?" you asked, rubbing your hand along his abs again, clearly feeling a lot looser than you were two hours ago. He thought about taking you to the bathroom and fucking you as your fingers tucked inside his white undershirt and found his bare skin.

"I want you to go get your drink and get back here quickly," he replied, his voice raspy. "That's what Daddy wants."

He watched you shuffle away after promising him you'd be right back. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Rooster. My man. Where did you pick her up from?" Omaha asked, leaning past Bradley to get a good look at where you were standing at the bar. You had no idea how appealing your ass looked in those jeans, otherwise Bradley was pretty sure you wouldn't be standing like that.

He turned back toward the other aviator and said, "I didn't pick her up from anywhere. She's my girlfriend."

Omaha had the audacity to whistle before he said, "Shit. How long you been hittin' that, old man?"

Bradley felt his hand at his side clench into a fist. He didn't mind the reminder about his age when it came from you, but when it came from someone else, he wanted to start swinging. When you called him old, it was because he couldn't figure out the settings on his phone, something you assured him you found charming. And you weren't a child. You were a capable adult, smarter than pretty much anyone else he knew. But he still just wanted to protect you, even though he knew he didn't have to. The sting of Greyson and Meredith was still too close though, and Bradley had to work at loosening his hand once again.

He was about to tell Omaha to fuck off when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. You were reaching for your drink just as Bradley saw Cyclone of all people reach his hand out to stroke one long finger across the perfect curve of your cheek. You were saying something to Cyclone, and you didn't look too happy. And now both of Bradley's fists were clenched as he watched you duck away from his commanding officer and head his way.

"Oh my goodness," you muttered, sloshing some of your beer onto your hand. But Bradley's gaze was fixed on that of Admiral Beau Simpson as the other man nodded in his direction. "That guy at the bar insisted on buying me a beer as well as a glass of the bourbon he was drinking."

That's when Bradley noticed you were holding two drinks. "Which guy?" he asked, even though he already knew. You turned to look at the bar and nodded toward Cyclone.

"The older one," you muttered before you looked up at Bradley. "He asked me if I was single and insisted on getting me the drinks." You held out the bourbon to him, and he took it.

"What did you tell him?" Bradley asked, fingers tightening around the glass as he felt the weight of your gaze and Cyclone's on him as well.

You licked your lips and said, "I told him I'm here with Bradley Bradshaw, and that he should stop pawing at me."

"Good girl, Princess," Bradley muttered, wrapping one big hand around your waist and pulling you close as he sipped the expensive bourbon courtesy of his boss's boss. Beau Simpson wanted something Bradley had, and the idea of it was enough to make him feel giddy.

"I don't really like this bar very much," you said, an edge of annoyance lacing your tone of voice as you sipped your beer. Bradley let his hand slide down lower and grip your ass, and you did nothing except snuggle in a little closer to him.

But then Bradley tipped the glass of bourbon toward Cyclone and nodded his head in thanks. When Admiral Simpson nodded before letting his gaze dip down along your body, Bradley smirked and downed the rest of the amber liquid. Then his lips were on yours, still wet from the drink. He wanted to mark you, brand you as his own. He wanted to do the filthiest things to you in front of everyone else.

You moaned against his lips, and Bradley took the beer out of your hand so you could wrap your arms around his neck. "What's that for, Daddy?" you asked when his lips found the side of your neck. "Oh, god," you whined as he sucked on you there.

Bradley knew you liked Daddys, and Simpson was older than him. Hell, half the guys at the bar who were looking at you were older than he was. Bradley wanted to make sure everyone knew who you were here with. Maybe he especially wanted to remind you.

So he let you finish the beer from Cyclone while he stood behind you, his big hand splayed across the bare skin of your belly. He kissed the side of your neck and praised you for being a good girl. And if Cyclone happened to be looking in this direction as Bradley's fingers dipped down into the front of your jeans, then so be it. Let him watch. Let everyone else watch as Bradley got his tipsy, twenty four year old girlfriend whining for his cock in the middle of the Hard Deck on a Friday night.

"Daddy," you moaned, grinding back against his erection, back arched as you set down your empty glass. "You're teasing me."

Bradley unbuttoned your jeans as he suggested, "Let's go outside?"

You smiled and bit your lip as you asked him, "Are you going to take me home?"

"Something like that," he replied, leading you toward the bar so he could close out his tab. And if that meant that both Helen and Admiral Simpson got a good look at the way you were coming apart in Bradley's arms while he signed his credit card slip, then that was just fine with him.

---------------------------

You stumbled out into the parking lot while Bradley unzipped your jeans. "Take me home?" you asked before his lips clashed against yours again. He tasted like that free bourbon, and you moaned into his mouth. You were so horny, you'd probably never make it back to Bradley's place at all.

"You want me to take you to my house, Princess? You gonna start calling that home?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms and heading for the pitch black corner of the parking lot where he'd left the Bronco.

"Daddy!" you whined, rubbing your lips all over the scars on his neck. "Take me home to your bed," you demanded, really quite tipsy. You'd never behaved like this before, ready to go in a parking lot, but apparently Bradley could read you like one of your nursing textbooks.

He deposited you next to the Bronco, your feet meeting the ground just a fraction of a second before he spun you to face the passenger side door. His hands felt rough on your body as you reached for the door, your palms braced against the window. Bradley yanked down your jeans and underwear, and you cried out as the cool, night air met your wet pussy.

"Bradley!"

"Shh," he whispered next to your ear. "You want me to fuck you right here, Princess?"

You felt almost ashamed as you gasped, "Yes," but you were so turned on for him, it didn't even matter. He bent you at the hips a little more, and then you felt Bradley thrust inside you in one quick motion. He filled you up so fast, the sensation took your breath away. He didn't give you time to get used to the stretch or to accommodate him before he was fucking you. It felt like he was teaching you a lesson as you tipped your head back and let him suck on your neck.

He nibbled on you before soothing you with his tongue, and you tried to look around, tried to make sure you were alone, but you would probably beg him to keep going even with an audience at this point. He felt that good. The cold glass against your palms was the only thing keeping your body from hitting the Bronco as he fucked you harder.

"I can't believe you're letting me do this," he rasped next to your ear. His voice combined with the sounds of his thighs slapping against yours, the sounds of filthy sex, as you started clenching around his cock.

"Daddy," you whimpered, unable to slow down your building orgasm.

"I'm your Daddy," he growled. "Just me. You're so fucking hot, you know that? Sinful looking. Can't leave you alone for a goddamn second."

"Ohhh," you keened, getting louder for him. He did nothing to stop you.

His words just made you clench harder as he said, "Every guy in that bar wishes he was me right now. Dying to be buried in this tight pussy. They all wanna look at you and touch you, but you're mine." He fucked you harder as he softly said, "You're my Princess."

"Oh!" you gasped, cumming on his cock as he continued to fuck you until you were a moaning, writhing mess. Your legs were shaking, and you felt like you had just wet yourself, but Bradley kept going. He didn't stop until he filled you up with his cum and let it drip down your legs. Then he spun you around and kissed your lips so softly as you leaned back against the door, your head swimming with satiated pleasure.

Bradley's hot cum cooled on your inner thighs, sending a chill through your body. He took his time pulling your jeans back up, and then he was helping you onto the passenger seat with the promise that he'd take care of you again when he got you home and sent Amelia away for the night. And the thing was, you'd definitely let him keep that promise.

-----------------------------

When Bradley woke up to an empty bed and a quiet house on Saturday morning, he was instantly alert. He'd slept in, and something didn't feel right. He jumped out of bed, and when he rushed to Noah's bedroom door, he found his son's room was empty.

"Noah? Princess?" he called out, continuing to the kitchen in just his underwear.

"Hi, Daddy," Noah said, looking up at him and spilling a forkful of scrambled egg onto the floor. Bradley contemplated getting a dog just to clean up the food messes Noah made, but a pet would only be something else he had to worry about when he was deployed.

"Hi, Daddy," you echoed from the seat across the table. You had your kid friendly playlist going, and you were reading from one of your textbooks, but you glanced up at him and smiled. You looked tired, and now Bradley felt bad for keeping you up half the night with his cock buried inside you. The Hard Deck had been a massive wakeup call for him. He was going to have to work hard to keep you. That much was obvious now. But you also needed the rest of the weekend to get yourself organized, and that was something he could help with.

He kissed Noah's forehead and then yours. "You want some coffee?" he asked you softly, and you nodded in response. He would take care of anything you needed, but he knew you wouldn't let him provide for you. Hell, you hadn't given him a real answer about moving in here, even though he'd asked and dropped hints. He wanted you here all the time. He couldn't stop thinking about what it might be like to get you pregnant ever since the idea was planted in his head on Wednesday.

As he worked the coffee maker to get you a vanilla latte just the way you liked it, he watched you cut some of the fruit in Noah's bowl into smaller pieces. And when Noah climbed into your lap, you didn't make a fuss that he was interrupting you.

"I'll take him out for the day, maybe do some grocery shopping while you work," he told you, his tone apologetic. "And then tonight, after bedtime, I'm all yours, Princess. We'll get everything done."

You kissed Noah's cheek and said, "I made you a grocery list. We're almost out of Skittles already. You boys can go to the store while you're out, and then I'll make dinner later."

Bradley wanted to protest, he really did, but he also wanted to eat one of your homemade dinners. So he got Noah dressed for the day and took him to the playground and then on a nature walk and then to the grocery store. He kept him out of your hair for hours and hours, and when he got home that afternoon, he carried a napping Noah into his bed.

You were sitting at the kitchen table wearing Bradley's gray sweatpants and one of his shirts, and you were typing away on his computer. He found himself entranced by your purple nail polish and calm exterior. He didn't disrupt you while he unpacked the groceries, he just set one of the many bags of Skittles he purchased on the table next to you. "Love you," he whispered, and you looked up at him with a little smirk as you opened your snack of choice. "You don't even have to share that bag with me."

"Thanks, Daddy." And that was all you said to him until you stood up and stretched a few hours later and started to make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, because Noah started bugging about it.

"Let's give Princess a break, Bub. I'll make the ants on the logs today, and you can help me." It took Bradley just as long to cut up the carrots and spread the peanut butter as it did for you to make an actual meal, but as he watched Noah decorate them with raisins, Bradley felt a certain level of accomplishment.

He knew how to cook now, kind of. He could make healthy snacks that Noah actually liked, sort of. And most importantly, he had managed to start a relationship with a woman who not only loved him, but loved his son as well.

"Here you go," you announced, setting plates of dinner down in front of both of them.

"Yay!" Noah cheered, and Bradley had to stop him from reaching for the hot food.

"Listen," Bradley said between bites of food. "Early bedtime tonight after a nice bath. And then tomorrow night we'll have a family movie night. We can go to the theater that serves dinner at your seat so we don't have to cook anything here."

"But that place is expensive," you protested. "And I still have to finish studying for my final on Monday."

"We'll study tonight," Bradley promised. "And the fancy movie theater isn't too expensive for my family."

----------------------------

You insisted on being the one to put Noah in bed when he finished his bath. After working for twelve hours straight on school assignments, you needed a little break, and some hugs from Noah really did the trick.

Once he was tucked in, you knew you needed to study for your anatomy final, but all you wanted was a glass of wine and a hot shower with your hot boyfriend. You found him in the living room, rooting through the drawers underneath the stereo system that must have belonged to his parents.

"Oh my goodness," you teased, gasping as he looked up at you. "Are those cassette tapes? Are you sure you're only thirty six?"

He rolled his eyes and got to his feet, pulling you toward the couch. "Almost thirty seven, actually. You know, I was going to play something I thought you might like while we study, but nevermind."

"Wait, I take it back, I take it back!" you protested, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Play it for me. Please?"

"Fine," he groaned, running his hands down your sides and bending to kiss you. "But only because I'm in a good mood." Then he started to play the tape, and you noticed that he already had your textbook and a fresh bag of Skittles waiting on the couch.

"Thanks for doing this," you whispered, watching as he settled down and patted his thigh.

"Come here," he coaxed as the mellow rock music played softly, and you were surprised to find you knew the band. "I like studying with you," he said with a grin as you settled onto his lap, straddling his thighs.

As he tore open the bag of Skittles, you reminded him, "I'll be looking for a job soon. No more studying."

"Gotta make this count then," he replied, pulling a red Skittle out and feeding it to you. "Fifty percent of the Skittles are mine. You can earn your share by answering questions correctly from your study guide."

You scoffed and ran your fingers through his hair. "I should get a more generous share of the goods tonight. As a reward for all my hard work."

He grunted and rolled his eyes. "Fine. You can have sixty percent. But just for tonight. Tomorrow we go back to a fifty/fifty split."

"Deal," you whispered, kissing his lips.

And it was all so gentle, the way Bradley fed you a yellow Skittle and then a purple one as he went down the study guide, his thumb rubbing soft circles against your thigh through the gray sweatpants. Anytime you needed an extra minute to consider your answer, you pulled your fingers through his hair and down his neck as you contemplated.

"You know this one, Princess. I know you do."

Every time he encouraged you, giving your hip a little squeeze, you got the right answer. And then you got a Skittle. And then you got a kiss.

"Will you come with me to my exam on Monday morning?" you asked him softly, your head coming to rest on his shoulder once the candy was all eaten. "I don't think I can do it without you there."

He kissed your forehead and held you close. "Sure you can, Baby. You'll ace it. Besides, I have to meet with Tracy and get everything settled. You don't need me at all."

But that was a lie. You did need him. You needed him. And Noah. "I do," you whispered, your lips brushing his neck. "I need you, Bradley."

"You already have me."

--------------------------

Cyclone, you dirty dog. Inching closer to this deployment. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 28

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989 notes · View notes

natalievoncatte · 4 months

Text

Lena could feel the weight in her hand. A little extra swing in her fist as she walked, sending a jolt up her arm as she jogged up the steps to Kara’s apartment. She’d decided to walk today, to clear her head a little as she went to see her best friend. She had a lot on her mind lately- usual Luthor stuff like defusing random death traps that Lex left behind, fending off attempts to dethrone her as CEO and challenge her status as he brother’s heir, and cures for intractable diseases and solutions for the energy crisis and thorny ethical issues around the advance project department’s latest AI experiments… and Kara.

Kara was on her mind. She had a way of sneaking into Lena’s mind at the most inopportune moments, like a board meeting, or a symposium, or her TED talk. It was really a TEDx talk; the organization wasn’t *quite* ready to invite Lena to the real deal, no matter how many photo ops she did with Supergirl or cancer research facilities she paid for. That didn’t stop Kara from following her around saying “thanks for listening to my Ted talk” for three weeks after the fact.

She had been thinking about Kara so much that it had finally been noticed. Sam flew in from Metropolis earlier that week for a catch up lunch, and as usual, after business was handled they shared a bottle of wine and things grew informal.

“Lena,” Sam said. “I’ve been talking for five minutes and you’ve been holding that glass of rosé and staring at it for the entire time. What’s going on?”

Lena almost dropped the glass when she heard her name. “Oh, right. Yes. Wine.”

She took a sip, hoping Sam would drop her question, but she persisted.

“I know that look. You were miles away. What is it? Did the cure for cancer pop into your head?”

“No,” Lena said. “It’s nothing, I was just lost in thought.”

“Mmm,” said Sam. “I’m sure.”

“What?”

Sam smiled enigmatically and finished her wine. “I’d better get going. I’m taking a red eye back to Metropolis.”

“Sam, you’re flying on a Lexcorp charter. It doesn’t work that way.”

Sam snorted and left Lena sitting there, wondering what that was about. Of course she’d been daydreaming about Kara, about her hands specifically- she’d nodded off last weekend and woke to see Kara at her ease, brow furrowed and hands moving wildly as she painted something. Lena had remained still and watched, fascinated by Kara’s hands, the skill and dexterity she showed.

It was that day that Kara had passed her the key she now carried in her hand. A key to Kara’s apartment. Unfettered access. Lena didn’t have to knock (she would anyway) and could stop by when Kara wasn’t even there. She hadn’t said anything but she’d been holding back tears the entire ride home; Lena had no problems with *access*, but trust was another matter. That was what the key was. It was a talisman of trust, Kara’s confidence in her given form.

Lena did knock before she turned the key and swung the door open. She was expected, but part of her worried that Kara wouldn’t be alone. It seemed odd to Lena that Kara hadn’t started dating again- her best friend had taken the whole Mon-El thing very poorly, and it was bizarre to begin with, so Lena understood why she’d stay single for a while, but it had been years.

Years of kindling a soft, secret hope, a desire so fragile and so brittle that Lena rarely dared think of it, afraid that the tiniest brush of longing would crumble it and with it break something inside her permanently.

The apartment smelled like cookies. Burnt cookies. Kara was in the kitchen, brow furrowed, bent in concentration over a cookbook, eyes darting to a mixing bowl. Foul smelling attempted cookies practically filled the garbage can.

“Hey,” Kara said, cheerfully. She gave Lena a soft, gentle smile that seemed only for her, and brushed a loose gold curl from her eyes. “You’re early.”

“I wanted more Kara time,” said Lena. “I was hoping to get a few minutes alone with you before the few shows up. Just us.”

Kara looked at her curiously, then turned to her project.

“I can’t get this right. I cream the sugar like it says, but they keep coming out wrong.”

Lena moved closer, stopping her hand from seeking the small of Kara’s back. When she saw the carton of cream on the counter, she busted out laughing so hard she snorted.

“What?” said Kara.

“Darling, you don’t put actual cream in it. Here, let me help you.”

For the next half hour, Lena and Kara made cookie dough, laboriously, by hand. Every step brought them closer together, literally. By the time they were scooping out evenly sized blobs of it together, they were hip to hip, both floured and sugared, hands greasy with butter.

“I’ll pop them in the oven,” said Kara. “You go clean up and relax.”

“Alright,” Lena said.

She ended up on the couch. Game night would begin hours later, and Lena turned on a nature documentary. (She had her own distinct username on Kara’s Netflix.)

Lena must have dozed off, because the alarm on the oven, along with a warm, pleasant, homey smell, woke her up. She padded on her stocking feet into the kitchen to see how the cookies came out.

Kara had already taken them out and was holding the tray, hot from the oven. Something was off. It nagged at Lena’s mind.

Then it hit her. Kara seemed to realize at the same time.

She wasn’t wearing oven mitts. No heating pad. Not even a dish towel. Kara was holding the hot tray, fresh from the oven, in her bare hands.

Lena yelped. “Kara! You’ll burn yourself!”

Kara started to move. A cry rose on her lips, then died. She stared at Lena with such softness, her eyes full of hesitation, but more than that, a kind of longing that echoed Lena’s own soul.

“I’m tired of lying to you,” Kara said, still holding the tray. “It doesn’t hurt. I can barely feel it.”

They stood for a frozen moment that lasted an eternity, the truth just on the wrong side of revealing itself. Lena already knew, but she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Say it.

“You’re Supergirl,” Lena whispered, soft and breathy.

Kara nodded, starting to choke up. She put the tray down almost violently and stepped back.

“I’ll understand if you need time, if you’re angry, if you don’t want to continue our friendship-“

She didn’t finish her ramble. Lena crossed the space between them in three quick steps, firmly took Kara’s face between her palms, and kissed her.

Pure terror gripped her. What if she was wrong? What if this was a mistake? Why wasn’t Kara moving, responding, reacting?

That question responded when hands that could crush diamonds moved her her body with surpassing tenderness, turning the awkward kiss into something more, Kara guiding Lena as their bodies molded together and Kara kissed her back with hopeful desperation, drawing it out as if she was afraid to let it end for fear it might never be repeated.

It was, intimately and immediately. Lena was shocked but pleased when Kara let Lena push her back against the counter, bending her back lightly, almost climbing her. Kara almost shocked Lena when her hand slid up her side and found her breast even as Lena grabbed a double handful of steely buns and squeezed.

Then someone coughed and they jerked apart.

Alex stood by the door, arms folded.

“I’m going to go ahead and text the others so they know game night is cancelled,” she said, smirking. “Next time, hang a sock on the doorknob or something.”

“This is my house,” said Kara.

Alex rolled her eyes. “I’m leaving now.”

As the door slammed shut, and Alex could plainly be heard blurting, “Jesus Christ,” Lena turned back to Kara.

“Should we talk?” she said, her voice small. “What is this? What are we doing?”

Kara swallowed, hard. “What do you want it to be, Lena?”

Lena couldn’t answer. She just stared.

“I know what I want it to be,” said Kara. “I want us to be an us. I’m so tired of wanting you so bad it hurts, but being scared to touch you a certain way or look too long or too openly or be afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. I’m tired of hiding so much from you.”

Lena licked her lips.

“The truth is, I’ve wanted you for years.”

Kara’s gorgeous eyes lit up with unbridled delight, and with shocking quickness, Kara had Lena in a bridal carry. Lena instinctively curled up in her arms, practically wrapping herself around Kara’s body.

“What do you want to do now?” said Kara. “I don’t know how to do this part, Lena.”

Lena smiled. “I think what you do now is carry me back in the bedroom and cream your sugar.”

“You want to make more cookies? Why… oh.”

“Oh indeed,” said Lena.

Lena didn’t make a habit of it, but this one time, she let Kara talk her into cookies for breakfast.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet

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carakook · 2 months

Text

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

"Please don't slam the door in my face. Please just let me talk to you for a bit, I promise I'll behave."

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⚘2. Wild Flower

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

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⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: Y/N attempts to cope with the end of the affair and stay firm in her decision to go no-contact with Jungkook. Jungkook, however, is a fucking mess, and it has barely been a few days. He is going insane. He knows this is for the best... but he also knows they both deserve closure. Y/N especially... she will never fully bloom without it.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 2K+

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex (no smut, but it is talked about), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of toxic masculinity, mentions of arguing, let me know if I miss anything!

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: Chapter two! This one is a bit short, but the next chapter will be much longer, this chapter is meant to give some context to their past and how things ended up this way. I truly hope you like it, and chapter three will be out shortly.

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↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Over - Lucky Daye (y’all this one is important, fits the vibe so well)

♪I bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

That weekend, you’re in shambles.

Hundreds of missed texts and calls. All from him. All tempting you to run back to him like you always do. But you haven't answered. You can't, and you won't.

His texts range from saying things like,

"I'm sorry. Can we please just talk?"

"Now you're leaving me on read? What the fuck?"

"I'm going crazy. Please talk to me."

"I want to hate you right now. Fuck."

"I do fucking hate you. I regret you."

"That was a lie, I could never hate you, I love you, so fucking much. I don't regret anything with you."

"You haven't blocked me and I can see you reading my messages so I'm not gonna stop until you answer me."

"Fuck wait, don't block me, please don't."

"Please Y/N."

It stopped there. The last plea and you left it unanswered. Because with each message he sent, even though you didn't text him back, you sent a tiny piece of your heart his way. He just doesn't know it.

If you weren't hurt, you'd find this entire thing so fucking amusing because, clearly, the man is losing it. He's acting like a desperate teenager who is overly attached to his girlfriend. Like a lost puppy. A man-child who's too persistent for his own good. So cute.

Except for the fact that you're not his girlfriend. You're his mistress, and oh fuck, that label leaves such a dirty and disgusting taste in your mouth.

He would never address you as such. As a matter of fact, as you're laying on your couch drowning in your own self-pity and a bottle of cheap wine, he remains in his second apartment, thinking precisely the opposite.

Thinking about the fact that you were never a mistress. You were so much more. As fucked up as it sounds, you were more than his wife is to him currently. He's never felt so loved, but also never loved someone so damn hard. You own his soul, and he's panicking at the thought that he'll never get it back. You've run away with it and refuse to let him in enough to steal it back.

But the thing is, he doesn't want it. He wants you to have it. If he could, he'd wrap it up in the most expensive wrapping paper, decorate it with stickers and bows, and hand it to you. But you stole it; you didn't give him the chance.

You didn't mean to. Fuck, you didn't want it. You don't even realize how much he loves you. You refuse to realize it because it'll only make it so much more painful. It's easier to believe that he loves his wife, not you. That he'll stay with his wife, not you. That he'll be happier with her, not you. It's so much easier because, despite the bitter pain in your heart, your one wish out of all of this is his happiness and well-being.

You know nothing about his marriage. Jungkook realizes this now. He never intentionally kept his marriage from you, but it was so easy to just forget about it when he was with you.

Because he wants to forget.

He once loved his wife and thought for sure he would never love anything or anyone more than her. They were young and in love, married each other while they were fresh out of college like dumbasses. He was a lovesick boy with her. He thought she was the prettiest, most precious thing ever to exist.

Until things changed.

After college, she changed. She has always been more mature, ever since they first met. But she created this power dynamic between her and Jungkook; she saw herself as more than him. She started looking down on him because of his choice of career... because of his choices in life in general.

One thing about Jungkook is he listens to no one. He's a selfish man in some ways and does not give a shit about anyone's opinion. But she was his wife. So it created some tension when she expressed she didn't want him to be some indie photographer; she wanted him to do something better with himself. She wanted him to try and make it big, like some sort of Hollywood hotshot working for celebrities, because he damn sure has the talent.

But he wanted something much more simple. He just wanted to take pictures. Of anything, everything, for anyone. He told her he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't waste his years of college to do something he didn't want to do. He didn’t drown himself in student debt to end up unhappy. Regardless of the money, he just wanted to capture the beauty in other people.

He has his own little business, and it does well. So well that his wife could stop working if she wanted to and continue living her lavish lifestyle. He's one of the most loved photographers in Seoul, but that's all. People enjoy the fact that he's humble and keeps things simple while providing them with photography skills that you can't get anywhere else.

His wife doesn't like this.

She wants more. Always wants more.

It was the first time he denied her wishes.

And it was the first time he realized that maybe this woman was not what he had thought she was all the years he had been with her.

The dynamic switched quickly. He went from lovesick puppy to stray dog, constantly feeling like he didn't belong with her, like he didn't have a place with her anymore. But he married her, dedicated several years of his life to her, and didn't wanna leave her. Marriage is hard sometimes… surely they could overcome it.

That’s what he thought, anyway. But as time went on, it became clear that this wasn’t just a rough patch. God, he fucking wishes so badly that it was just a rough patch.

The one thing that made him start thinking impulsively was the bomb she dropped on him shortly before he met you.

"No, Jungkook, I don't want kids. Not now, not ever, so drop it."

"Woah- what? We've talked about this before baby... I don't understand. What changed your mind?"

"You. I'm content with what we have, and I don't want to focus on some mini-Jungkook running around and causing chaos in my future. We're fine as we are."

That was the day that he realized, holy fuck, I don't love this woman anymore. This isn’t just some rough patch. She is not the woman he fell in love with years ago… maybe she never was.

Because he had the same thought but the polar opposite, her words stung him in a way he'd never felt. He has always imagined a mini-her running around, and it made him swoon. It made him feel so many warm fuzzies inside. But she clearly didn't feel the same. And the fact that she would view a child made by them both as a nuisance just because it was his? That broke his heart.

Kids have always been such a huge deal to him. He loves them. He is a huge kid himself. He's always wanted to be a dad one day and always imagined it would be with his wife. He used to fantasize in college about it, about his little babies running around while he made his little family breakfast; she knew it, too. She knew he wanted kids, and she always fed into these fantasies, adding onto them and making them seem real and plausible.

But it never was real. It was all an illusion to keep him under her leash.

She never wanted kids. She just wanted to keep him.

And he knows that now. It makes him sick.

After that conversation, he quickly put up barriers with her. Although he couldn't bring himself to divorce her, he distanced himself. And she didn't even notice, which is what gave him the confidence to pursue you.

He just wanted to feel something. He couldn't even touch his wife anymore. Couldn't even get hard by her. And she humiliated him for it. She made him feel like he was broken and gross. Dirty. It's similar to your feeling but in a completely different context.

And she wasn't willing to help, either. He had tried to confide in her, be honest, communicate. He tried to work it out, wanted to find ways to make it work, wanted to be able to touch her again. He offered couples counseling and maybe a doctors visit to make sure his junk wasn’t broken like she swore it was. But the moment she saw he wasn't hard for her like he always had been? She, too, put up her walls. She distanced herself and never mentioned sex again. Hardly even looked at him in such a way.

He wouldn't doubt if she was cheating, too. In fact, he knows in his gut that she started cheating on him way before he did on her. He doesn't have the balls to confront her either, considering he feels he's the reason for her straying away. He can't give her what she needs. He feels like he's not good enough for her. For anyone. Not even for you.

It's a mess.

So that night he saw you at the club, dancing with your friends, that sweet smile on your face that could end a war, he wanted you. Oh, he wanted you so bad.

At first, it was just lust. Seeing the way that you moved, so sensual and sinful, but mixed with that innocent smile? It was a deadly combination that left his dick twitching.

Never once did he think it would be a constant. He was sure it'd be one time, which is why he didn't disclose his marriage to you at first.

It was thrilling for him. He knew it was wrong; he felt like a child who was sneaking out and doing shit behind his parent's back, stealing cookies from the cookie jar. But he hadn't felt a thrill in months, hadn't been touched in months, hadn't even been looked at in months.

So when you noticed him staring, and your cheeks turned faintly red under the club lights? And you tried to look away? But then he saw you whispering to your friends and panicking, whisper-yelling, "He's so hot- he's looking at me- oh god, I'm gonna puke, look at him!"

Yeah. That was what he needed. He needed someone to stroke his fragile little ego that his wife tore to fucking shreds. And your over dramatic, yet sweet reaction? It made him so fucking cocky.

One time. Just once. Just a little taste to keep me sane. That's what he told himself.

But when he finally got that taste of you? When he saw the way you looked at him while he was above you? The way you whined when he kissed you? The way you acted like you'd never been touched before? And then when he felt you? Felt how tight you were, felt how much you wanted him, how you seemed like you had not been with many men? It did it for him. It started an addiction.

You made him feel wanted in a way his wife didn't. In a way that she never did.

You healed a part of him while also causing him to grow. To flourish. To become himself again.

He doesn't even care if it's sinful circumstances. He's just thankful for you. So fucking thankful. When he dies and gets sent to hell, he will personally thank satan himself for giving him the ability to sin with you.

Maybe in hell, he can even have you.

He knows that even with all of that, it doesn’t make what you’re both doing right. No matter what excuses his mind conjures up, none of it is ok. Cheating is never ok. He should’ve never pursued you. He should’ve never kept it going. He should’ve never even been in that fucking club that night. Or, he should have fessed up. Should have told his wife, left her, fuck, he should’ve done something different.

He should’ve saved you both. But he didn’t. Because he’s selfish. And he’s so fucking scared.

And even then, he could never regret you. Never.

This is why, as he sits in the bedroom of his second apartment, staring directly at the perfume bottle that fell out of your purse and onto his floor as you ran away, he made a decision.

One that he wasn't happy with.

He's a coward. He feels as if he can't leave his wife. There are so many reasons as to why, but the main one is that he's in so deep with her. Has a whole life with her. She's part of him. So he can't leave her. He wants her to leave him. And he secretly hopes that one day, she will. It’s selfish, wrong, but that’s how he feels.

However, he can't let you leave without making sure you know how much he loves you.

It's fucked up. He knows it is. He knows that when you love someone, you'll do anything to be with them. But he's a coward.

He still loves you, though. Loves you more than he even understands. Right person, wrong time. And it’s so fucking painful.

So he gets his shit together. He takes a shower, shaves, makes himself look less of a mess, and starts making his way to your apartment without announcing himself.

He knows if he tells you, you'll refuse to let him in. He knows you're trying to move on. And he wants to help. But he can't let you go until you understand the extent of his feelings.

And maybe, just maybe, has one last taste.

This is something you don't expect him to do at all. He's never pushed himself on you. He's never been the type to show up without an invite, or at least a little heads up first.

Which is why when you hear a knock on the door, you don't think anything of it. You ordered pizza. The best heartbreak food. So you grab your wallet and pull out a some cash, swiftly opening the door and saying with a pout and sniffle,

"Keep the chan-"

That's not the pizza guy. Nope.

That's him. And fuck, you feel yourself melting. Your heart turns to molten hot lava and burns you from the inside out.

He smiles sheepishly, and he holds out a single flower. He didn't buy it. It's a tiny little purple wildflower that looks a bit wilted, much like yourself. Pitiful. And clearly, he picked it on the side of the road on his way here.

This is the kind of shit that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, the guilt is worth it.

"Please don't slam the door in my face. Please just let me talk to you for a bit, I promise I'll behave."

"Leave."

You swiftly say as you begin to do exactly what he asked you not to. You honestly weren't going to do it; you were already thinking that if he asked you to stay, you would. But then he said that, and it brought you back to reality.

But he doesn't let you.

His arm darts out, holding the door from shutting entirely. He pushes it open, steps in quickly, closes it behind him, and looks at you with an intense desperation you've never seen before. Looks like a lost fucking puppy, or maybe a puppy who’s been put outside by their owner.

A lost puppy for you… a stray dog for his wife.

And then he gets on his fucking knees and begs.

Looking up at you, with the tiny purple wildflower, still in his hand, it drops down to his side in defeat. He's gripping it so tightly that it's losing its life quickly. The same exact way he’s clinging to the connection you share as if he’ll die without it. But much like the little wildflower, he’s sucking the life out of you.

His other hand grabs yours and squeezes. He says with a weak voice,

"Please. Let me do this. We need closure, and the last time we saw each other was not it. I'm fucking begging you to let me in just for tonight. And then I'll let you go."

As he holds your hand, you can't look at him. Instead, you look at the tiny flower, the one that he's crushing in his palm. He's holding onto it for dear life without even knowing. Similar to you, once again. You're that flower.

You're wilted, bruised, bent, crushed. All because he's clinging onto you, sucking the life out of you, and you've let him. And if he asks, you're going to continue to let him.

But then the flower falls out of his hand. He lets it go.

Oh, what a fucked up way for god to tell you that he isn't going to stay. He isn't going to ask you to stay; he's really going to let you go tonight.

So, as you stare at the flower, which is now on the floor, you murmur, "Alright."

You don't want to. But you're giving him the chance to let you go. Even though you wished he wouldn't.

He stays on his knees, as if he isn’t sure what to do now. As if he wasn’t sure he’d get this far… and honestly, that’s exactly it. He thought for sure you would kick him out and curse him for trying.

Or maybe, he thought you’d fight, too. And the fact that you aren’t fighting… it shouldn’t hurt him as much as it does. He’s the one who has put you in a position of constant guilt. But oh, how nice it would be if you fought for him.

“Jungkook, Jesus, get off of your damn knees. You look ridiculous.”

He blinks slowly. Yeah, ok, fair. His big ass on his knees begging like that. But god, he’d do it over and over again just for a little more time with you.

He’d let you spit on him and call him degrading names if it meant more time with you. And he’d even smile about it.

You both end up laughing at his dramatics a moment later, and it’s music to his ears… knowing that he can still make you smile even though he’s the reason you’re dying inside right now.

Closure. It’s what you both need. Just one more night to get everything unsaid out into the open… then you’ll both move on.

… right?

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

#bts #jeon jungkook #18+ only #bts fanfction #bts imagines #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n

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fiapartridge · 1 year

Text

cruel summer | jack hughes

"he looks up grinning like the devil..."

jack hughes x reader

summary: it's another hot summer night at the hughes family's lake house, and yours and jack's secret relationship is tested now more than ever...

warning(s): swearing

top 3 songs on lover: cruel summer, cornelia street, dbatc (honorable mention: the archer) and you can quote me on that

You've known the Hughes family for as long as you could remember. Your parents met in college, and since then, your families have spent every summer at the lakehouse together. To say that the three boys and you were close would be an understatement. You guys were inseparable.

When Jack moved to New Jersey to play for the Devils, you had just recently got into Princeton. You both were elated. Sure, it was still about an hour drive away from him, but it beat being in Michigan. Before the move, everyone saw you and Luke as the best of friends, the ones that could barely go a day without seeing each other, the ones where laughing was the only thing in their vocabulary, but when you moved to New Jersey, all of that changed.

You still talked to Luke and you saw him on occasion, like Christmas break or on Thanksgiving, but not as much as you saw Jack. When Jack learned that you were going to Princeton, he rearranged his entire schedule to make him able to pick you up on the weekends and bring you to Newark to hang with him and the team. They became some of your best friends and Jack, well, you guys were closer than ever.

You suppose that that was when it all started: the secrecy, the quick kisses, the hand-holding underneath table linen— the start of your secret relationship. Though it was all out in the open in Jersey: you staying at his apartment; in his bed, having an extra toothbrush in his bathroom, wearing his hoodies, and staying up talking until the sun came up.

After a year of going back and forth between Newark and Princeton, debating whether this whole thing was merely just you guys hanging around each other for your families’ sake, or if it was really something more, Jack felt like he knew the obvious answer. He never wanted to talk to you and be around you because of your families. Sure, that was a factor, but he just loved you, and knowing you. And when he asked you to be his girlfriend, to his surprise, you said yes.

So when summer started up again and Jack Hughes was officially your boyfriend, you knew your families would have a field day with it, so you kept it a secret. You didn’t want things to change, you didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable with you going into his room anymore just like you had done so many summers before, or them being weirded out with the fact that you guys kiss and hold hands among other things. You guys just didn’t want them to see you two differently— especially his brothers. Quinn and Luke— they were your best friends. You couldn’t mess that up.

The boys (along with the addition of Z, Coley, Turcs, Eddy, and Duker, who practically begged Quinn to let them stay for the summer) were in the backyard, playing games in the pool when you walked back inside the lakehouse, water spilling off your swimsuit, dampening up the hardwood floor.

“Y/N/N, you’re getting the floor all wet,” your mom scolded as she and Ellen sat on the couch, drinking wine and talking about their lives leading up to today.

You grabbed a towel from the cabinet beside the door, letting it hang over your shoulders as Ellen smiled brightly at you. She waved you over to where they were sitting. “Oh, let me see my beautiful, Y/N/N.”

You grinned upon hearing Ellen’s voice. She was like a second mother to you. You came to her for almost everything. And Ellen loved her boys, but you, you were like the daughter she never had. “You, darling, are stunning,” she beamed. “Come, sit.”

You sat on the carpeted floor, not wanting to mess up the couch. “How’s college?” Ellen asked.

“It’s— a change, but I really like it.”

She raised her brow humorously. “Any boyfriends?”

Hm. You figured the first night of summer may not be the best time to tell her that you are dating her fucking son. So, you shook your head and said, “No. Uh, that department’s still in development.”

She laughed. “I remember when you and Lukey would chase each other around the house when you were little. You’d knock over every single vase in sight. We’d spent a thousand dollars on repairs that month.”

You scrunch your nose. “Sorry.”

“No, no!” she waved it off. “You kids were having fun. I missed it when you guys were kids. The boys have been— stressed to say the least, but the second Jack found out you were going to be in Jersey with him, it’s like his whole demeanor shifted. This past year, it’s like… he’s only been happy.”

“Speaking of Jack,” your mom turned to the figure walking through the backdoor.

“I was wondering why the lemonade was taking hours,” he smiled at you. “Hi, moms.” He kissed the top of his mom’s head and kissed your mom’s cheek as he stood behind the couch, beaming at you. He loved seeing you with his mom. Every girl he dated in the past had good relations with his mom, but they were never you. You’d known her since birth. No one had a bond like you two.

Maybe that was another fear; why you had to keep this whole thing a secret. What if Ellen hated you? I mean, she never could. She always anticipated you ending up with one of her boys, but there was still some fear lingering in the back of your head; that maybe she’d think of you differently.

“Sorry we stole her,” Ellen said. “We just needed some girl talk.”

“That’s never good.”

Ellen threw a pillow at him as he ducked, grabbing your hand and pulling you up towards the kitchen. “Go, go, go!” he yelled as you laughed behind him.

When you two finally made it into the kitchen, checking if anyone was around, Jack slowly backed you up against the counter, a smirk dancing across his lips as he held onto your hips and kissed you. You sighed into the kiss, placing your hands on his sub-burnt cheeks. There wasn’t much time for intimacy like there was back in New Jersey, so you took every slim chance you had.

“What’d you guys talk about?” he whispered, his lips still a close distance from yours as if moving a bit farther would ruin the electric atmosphere around you.

“College, you, boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?” he looked at you, grinning like the devil before tickling your sides as you laughed, pushing his hands off of you. “What’d you say?” he asked once he was done attacking you with tickles. His hands remained on both sides of the counter, trapping you in him. You both glanced at the entrance from time to time, making sure the coast was clear.

“What? You jealous?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m so jealous. Let me go beat up this boyfriend of yours,” he said before pretending to hit himself in the face.

“Okay, okay, okay. This is getting embarrassing,” you laughed, scrunching your nose at him as you walked around him and pulled out the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge.

Just as Jack was about to pull you back into him, he jumped backwards upon hearing Luke’s voice enter the room. “God, you guys are so fucking slow. What are you doing? Making out?”

Your face turned beet red as Luke shook his head and took the pitcher from where you placed it on the counter.

“Why? Is that what you and Duker are doing outside?” Jack asked, smirking.

Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “How have you never noticed that Duker and I have something going on? It’s like you don’t even pay attention anymore, Jacky,” he said, shaking his head before shuffling out the door and back outside to the pool.

You let out a breath, laughing as Jack wrapped his arms around you, matching your energy.

This was going to be a long summer.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #nhl fan fiction #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes fluff

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jackhues · 1 year

Text

(mockingbird au!) better things - platonic!hughes

request: quinn's gf treating the reader shitty

requested by: anon : )

notes: hehe, this took very long bcz i've had writers block for so long, but i hope you enjoy! continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

mockingbird! au request rules!

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @zegras2crosby , @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley @huggyhugh , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73, @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 <3

join my taglist!

gif not mine!

the first time you met marianne, you tried to tell yourself she had a bad day.

after all, it happens to everyone. you’ve had many yourself. days when you don’t want to talk to anyone, where you especially don’t have the energy to talk to someone new.

it was a universal experience.

there’d been a knock on your door that afternoon, followed by jack yelling, “i’ll get it!” you were washing the dishes, so it wasn’t like you were going to go get it anyways.

once you put the dishes away and dried your hands, you made your way to the door, trying to figure out what was taking jack so long. he was a bit of a chatterbox, and on more than one occasion, you had to pull him away from a scared looking deliveryman.

“jack, who’s here?” you asked.

“damn, y/n,” quinn clicked his teeth as he shook his head to himself. “and here i thought you’d recognize me before my own brother would.”

“quinn!” you laughed a little, hugging him. “oh my god, i completely forgot you’re in town! the game’s tomorrow, right?”

“yup,” he agreed.

“great, remind me to prepare myself for hearing ‘jack hughes’ brother’ on the broadcast all night,” you muttered to yourself.

jack laughed, while quinn merely rolled his eyes.

“this is why you should watch the vancouver broadcasts,” he rapped his knuckles against your head.

you swatted his hand away as someone cleared their throat.

it was only then you noticed a pretty redhead standing behind quinn and looking a little… bored? it was hard to tell, she didn’t look very expressive.

“y/n, meet marianne!” quinn said, putting an arm around the girl. “anne, this is jack’s girlfriend, y/n.”

“hi, it’s nice to meet you!” you grinned, unsure if you should step up for a hug or handshake.

anne nodded in your direction, still looking vaguely bored by everything around her. you decided on neither form of greeting.

jack and quinn were deep in conversation, sending luke snaps and telling him to hurry and make his way over to your’s and jack’s apartment. the three boys would be staying at your place over the weekend.

the rest of the quinn and anne’s visit went by alright, as long as you didn’t count the fact that you and anne never spoke to each other, despite living in the same house for two days.

you stayed at home to watch the devils and canucks play each other, even inviting anne as a gesture of goodwill.

“um, no thanks,” was her simple response. “i’m meeting up with a few of my friends to go clubbing.”

you merely nodded to yourself, doing your absolute best to try and pretend her tone wasn’t rude, and that she was just tired.

a bad day can be a bad few days, right?

the second time you met her, things hadn’t gone any smoother.

this time, you and jack were visiting quinn in vancouver, staying over at his house for the visit. you weren’t even supposed to be there, but jack had convinced you to go along and surprise quinn.

luke had arrived at quinn’s apartment a few hours prior, leaving you and jack to go on an impromptu date around the city.

you knocked on the door, stepping back and squeezing jack’s hand. you couldn’t wait to see the shocked expression on quinn’s face when he saw you guys together.

except, he didn’t open the door.

anne stood inside quinn’s apartment, narrowing her eyes at the sight of you. her gaze travelled towards jack, who she recognized immediately.

“hey, jack, right?” she asked.

jack smiled, “the one and only. is my brother here?”

she nodded, giving you a onceover, before stepping back and allowing you guys inside the apartment.

“quinn! your other brother’s here!” she called, before heading towards one of the rooms.

you and jack shared a glance, before entering the apartment. you’d spent some time here occasionally, usually when jack was visiting vancouver on a road trip, but you didn’t remember the exact layout of this apartment.

quinn, who must’ve been eating lunch, shouted something in response, before making his way over.

“hey - oh my god, y/n!” he moved jack out of the way to give you a hug.

you laughed loudly, sticking your tongue out at jack who had crossed his arms and was pouting slightly.

“told you he loves me more,” you grinned.

this time around, you went to the stadium to watch the devils and canucks game, along with ellen and jim. anne joined you guys, but she didn’t seem very interested.

you wore a red devils jersey, sporting ‘hughes’ and the number 86 proudly on your back. hockey wasn’t a huge part of your life growing up, but after meeting jack, the sport grew on you. it was hard to date a hockey player and not be a hockey fan.

you watched the game intensely, cheering whenever one of the three hughes had the puck - but you were loudest when it was jack. nico scored near the end of the first period, leading to you and jim cheering and celebrating with one of your handshakes.

while ellen loved all three of her kids, her oldest had a special place in her heart. she couldn’t just cheer against his team.

“devils are winning this, ma,” you told her, laughing during the first intermission. jim had left you guys, with the promise of coming back after grabbing some food. “i’m telling you, we’re getting a jack goal, maybe two, and then… i’m not sure, i feel like dawson’s gonna score one.”

ellen rolled her eyes, “keep dreaming honey. but anne and i know that quinn’s gonna win this one.”

you turned to anne, momentarily forgetting she was there.

“what do you think, anne?” you asked, trying to appease your guilt-ridden conscience at forgetting her existence. “what’s the score gonna be?”

anne looked up from her phone, bored, “does it matter? it’s just a dumb game. i don’t even understand why you’re so interested. like honestly, i have better stuff to do. everyone should have better stuff to do.”

you blinked, slightly taken aback.

“excuse me?” ellen said to her, also put off by her words and tone.

“what?” anne looked up. “did i say something wrong?”

“you don’t have to be here, you know,” ellen told her. “in fact, if you’re not interested in the game, if you’re going to talk to my daughter like that, and if you ‘have better things to do’, go ahead and leave. no one’s stopping you.”

anne stared at ellen, at a loss for words.

“ma, it’s okay, really,” you said, trying to deescalate the situation. there were lots of people around, and you just didn’t want anyone to accidentally catch wind of the conversation. “let’s not do this right now. i’m sure we’re all just misunderstanding what’s going on.”

ellen huffed, crossing her arms and looking back at the ice. on the other side of you, anne did the same.

“okay, so i’ve got candy, hot dogs, and some pop. someone please take them from me before i drop them,” jim froze at the sight of the three of you, obviously catching the tension.

at your warning glance, he wisely remained silent.

the rest of the game was tense, but jack had scored two goals - he liked scoring against quinn - and the devils secured a win over the canucks. quinn had come away with two assists, but it just wasn’t enough in the end.

the tension remained, even after the game, but no one brought it up. not until months later, when you sat around the fire at the lake house.

“okay, but that move i pulled on you was still better than your goal,” quinn was saying to jack.

“no, no, no,” jack argued. “the goal was so much better.”

you, ellen, jim, and luke watched the two older boys argue, laughing amongst yourselves.

“hey, after the game, why were you all so tense and awkward?” luke turned to you suddenly.

jim shrugged, “i was just following what the rest of them were doing.”

ellen’s smile had turned sour, but you understood. you didn’t like thinking about that day very much either.

you waved it off, “you remember quinn’s girlfriend, anne?”

“oh, the redhead?”

“yup,” you nodded. “anyways, she was just being a little rude-”

“y/n, don’t sugarcoat her actions,” ellen shook her head. “y/n and i were having a conversation about the game while jim went to go get us some food. y/n tried to be nice and include anne in the conversation, but anne was rude and i didn’t like it, so i told her off. when someone’s being nice to you, you can’t just say stuff like that. i didn’t like her.”

luke laughed, “me neither, honestly. i don’t know why… something about her attitude just rubbed me wrong.”

“okay, okay, enough,” ellen said. “i don’t want to talk about her anymore.” she yawned, “on second thought, i don’t want to talk at all anymore. g’night guys.”

jim sighed, collecting the smore’s sticks and following his wife inside. you and luke watched jack and quinn argue, laughing whenever the other made a comment that didn’t make sense.

you were so tired, you didn’t even realize when you fell asleep.

jack smiled down at you, using his your hoodie as a blanket to cover yourself as you slept.

“i don’t care if you guys have been together for years,” luke muttered as he walked by, “staring like that is still weird.”

“wait until you get a girlfriend,” jack muttered, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

he leaned down, lifting you up off the chair and into his arms bridal style. your eyes fluttered, but at the sound of jack’s soft voice, you nestled comfortably in his arms and fell back asleep.

luke and quinn waved at him as he carried you down the hall and to bed.

“i keep forgetting to ask,” luke turned to his oldest brother suddenly. “what happened to anne? why’d you guys break up?”

quinn shrugged to himself, “after the last devils and canucks game, she said she didn’t like y/n very much, and she didn’t like how mom talked to her or something. and obviously, mom’s not going to be rude unless she was rude first. i told her that, she got mad and said i can’t talk to y/n anymore. i said we can’t be together if she doesn’t like y/n or mom because those are two of the most important females in my life. if she doesn’t like my mom or my sister, how’re we supposed to go on?”

“so you broke it off?” luke asked.

“so i broke it off,” quinn agreed.

luke nodded, as if the explanation made sense.

you were a part of the boys’ lives, a huge part. there was no way they would compromise when it came to you. there was no better thing than the relationship they had with you.

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Text

What a Night

i know some of y'all wanted to see professor at the grammys, but i decided to save her for the brits! here's to seeing harry let loose once a year!

Professor Series

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Friday

“Doctor Y/l/n, are you going to the Brits with Harry tomorrow?”

Now, a few months ago, that question would’ve startled you, flustered you even. But Harry “audited” your lectures enough that your students knew he was more than just a friend. You were teaching them how to observe the mundane and make educated guesses about their surroundings, after all. It was technically for law enforcement, but they put it to use after the first few times Harry snuck into the lecture hall and occupied a seat in the back corner. He never said anything during class, but he always stayed after, and he always walked or drove you home. It was hard not to put two and two together.

Your brow wrinkled with confusion. “That’s not this weekend. It’s on the eleventh.”

“That’s this weekend, Professor,” the same student who asked the initial question said. “Did you forget?”

There was a small chorus of giggles from the lecture hall because of course their professor would forget one of the biggest nights of the year for British artists. You didn’t mean to, but you were known for getting caught up in work. Losing track of time or not knowing what day it was was commonplace for you.

Class ended shortly after that, and you immediately checked your calendar. It was in fact the weekend of the eleventh, the Brits were this weekend, and you’d completely forgotten.

You raced back to the townhouse, dialing Harry’s number as you hopped on your bike.

“Hi, love—”

“H, I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about the Brits this weekend. Well, I didn’t forget because I can’t forget, but it slipped my mind, and I feel terrible because this is such a huge event for you and you would never—”

“Hey. Y/n. Take a breath,” Harry said. He waited for you to relax, listening for your deep breaths. “Calm now?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I guess I’m just a little stressed because I have to book my train ticket to London—”

“It’s already booked,” he said, not sounding nearly as stressed as you felt.

“It is?”

You could almost hear his smile as he said, “I had a feeling it would slip your mind. You had your big lecture this week. How did it go?”

You wanted to talk about this weekend and the plans Harry made for you because he knew you so well, but you couldn’t help your huge grin when he asked about your seminar, which had been one big talk that was open to all Cambridge students and anyone else who could make it to the university and wanted to hear your lecture on criminal psychology.

“So good, H! They want me to do a series of lectures, maybe even broadcast it online so more people can watch.”

“That’s not at all surprising. I’m so proud of you, darling. I’ll definitely have to watch one, possibly all of them.”

As much as you wanted to gush about the seminar, you circled back to the topic at hand. “W—What about you? How are rehearsals going?”

Harry blew out a large breath. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m exhausted,” he said. “But I’m excited too. Not turn tables this time.”

“Aw, H,” you said, coming to a stop on your bike as you reached the townhouse. You were well aware of just how exhausted he was. Last week he fell asleep before your takeout order had arrived, and he was jumping right back into touring after this award show. “Are you free tonight? Assuming I’ll be on a train in the next couple of hours I can make dinner and we can watch a movie.”

“You hate movies,” he joked.

“Yeah but you don’t,” you said. “This weekend is about you. I want to do whatever makes you happy.”

“Oh, well if it’s all about me then,” Harry said, his voice playful. “Train departs later this afternoon. I’ll pick you up.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” you told him as you entered the townhouse. “The cats miss you almost as much as I do.”

“Well, we won’t be apart for long. Now,” Harry said. “Tell me more about the seminar. I know you’re dying to talk about it.”

Sometimes it was eerie how well Harry knew you, but you summed it up to him being a devoted partner.

“Well, the lecture hall was completely filled, and at first I thought it was mostly your fans, but everyone was there to learn! I had candy to give out for people who answered questions, and so many people stayed afterwards to talk. Oh! And you’ll never believe...”

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Saturday

“Babe, that was Stanley Tucci!”

“I know!”

“The Stanley Tucci!”

“I know!”

Harry giggled and hid his face in your neck. He was practically on top of you, but you didn’t mind. Harry always got like this when he had a few too many. He would drink, and then he became the most physically affectionate person in the room.

The night had been pure magic so far. Walking the red carpet with Harry had been nerve-wracking, even when he told you he wore this suit so you could hide behind it whenever you got nervous. But being next to him the whole time made it somewhat easy. That and you recited the plots of Shakespeare plays in your head to keep your mind off the flashing lights and people yelling at you to look this way and turn another.

Harry had kept to water until after his performance, which was when he really started to let loose. He’d wanted to keep a clear head to perform, but now that it was over and done with, he was pounding the tequila. You and Gemma would share amused looks every now and again, but mostly you were just happy to see him enjoying himself.

And winning.

“This is just unreal,” he mumbled, his breath fanning against your skin. He’d been deposited into the seat next to yours after accepting his fourth and final award of the night. You watched as Kid and Tyler had to help him offstage a little, so you weren’t surprised when he plopped down beside you unceremoniously, or when he proceeded to pull you close and mumble slightly incoherently against your neck.

“I—I truly never thought that I would—that I could ever—I just feel like the luckiest guy in the world right now.”

You scratched the back of his head affectionately, grinning a little as he hummed in response. “You deserve everything, love. All of it. You work so hard, and you make so many people happy.”

“Yeah?” Harry said, peeking his head up to look at you. “And what did I do to deserve you, hm?”

Blushing, you looked away. “Stop it.”

“Never.”

The night carried on, and Harry was pretty much the star of the show. He was on cloud nine after his clean sweep, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him. It was odd to think that an album that was heavily based on the things you went through with Harry would gain such critical acclaim. When you heard his album for the first time, it had been jarring and a little uncomfortable because they were your experiences too, not just Harry’s. But you also knew that as an artist, Harry best expressed himself through music, and you learned to feel honored to have a small part in his artistic process. And they were heartfelt songs, at the end of the day, each one expressing just how much you meant to him.

At one point in the evening, Harry grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you away from the table you’d been sitting at all night. You first thought he was going to introduce you to someone—a friend or collaborator, maybe even Stanley Tucci—but he bypassed all the tables filled with celebrities, heading out of the main space where the award show was being held. Harry didn’t stop until the sounds of the most recent performance were muffled and it was just the two of you in a forgotten hallway.

“H, what are we—mmph.”

His lips were on yours before you even had the chance to process. They were warm and eager and tasted faintly of tequila, but his hands were steady as one gripped your hip and the other held the side of your head, fingers inching into your hair. The kids startled you, but Harry’s eagerness had you responding in kind, even though anyone could’ve turned a corner and caught the two of you.

Harry didn’t seem to care about getting caught either. The hand on your hip trailed down, his fingertips grazing the skin revealed by the high slit on your dress. It was the smallest graze of skin against skin, but it sent a shiver down your spine, and Harry could sense it. He smiled, kissing your top lip before dragging the bottom between his teeth.

“You look heavenly tonight,” he said, his thumb drawing circles into the skin of your thigh. “Done my best to behave myself all night, but now I just need a little taste, that alright?”

Heat spread from your neck all the way up to your hairline. You could handle him calling you pretty or beautiful or any of the other conventional compliments shared between partners, but Harry always made it a point to go above and beyond that, almost like he was trying to make you blush.

You found yourself nodding at his request because in all honesty, he looked devastatingly handsome in all of his different outfits tonight, and this silk shit was no different. It took a surprising amount of restraint to not run your hand along his exposed chest multiple times tonight, and you were pretty sure Harry could sense that.

He pressed teasing, feather-light kisses on your jaw, then your neck, those fingers of his still tracing patterns on your leg, not once sneaking past the lace fabric of your dress, which he had been admiring you in all night. It wasn’t often that you got dressed up, not that Harry minded, but you were pretty sure he was shocked to see you in a floor-length dress made of form-fitting pink lace. It was a shock for you too, but a good one.

You figured hidden away like this, the moment would be rushed and frenzied, but Harry was surprisingly delicate. By the time he made it down to your collarbone, you had to put your fingers in his hair to urge him to apply just a little more pressure.

“Sorry,” he said, still kissing. “Don’t want to ruin such a lovely dress. And all good work takes time, professor. You know that.”

Harry fiddled with one of the straps of your dress, admiring the intricate lace detail before sliding it down your shoulder. Your eyes widened.

“Harry, are you insane? We can’t—”

“Relax, just gonna give you a little kiss. Like this, see?”

Just as lightly as before, Harry pecked your shoulder, shooting you a teasing grin afterwards. His smile sparked a mischievous confidence in you that only he seemed able to bring out. Running a hand through his hair, you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back so you were nose to nose with him.

“Do I get to have a little taste now too?”

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Harry walked into the small room where journalists and photographers were waiting for him. His hair was tousled, messier than it had been at the start of the night. Those in the press room chalked it up to an eventful night that included an electric performance, but only because they didn’t see the small purple bruise that was barely covered by his partially buttoned dress shirt. He seemed less inebriated than he had been onstage, though there was a glint in his eyes still, from a successful night at the Brits, no doubt.

He answered questions and talked about how grateful he was. He talked about his album—the process of making it and the warmth it received upon it’s release. Then,

“To celebrate? Uh...” There was a small grin on his face as he paused to think about what he wanted to say versus what he would actually get up to.

Harry gave his last answer of the night, then thanked everyone before leaving the press room and heading straight to where he knew you were waiting for him.

#harry styles #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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lucyandthepen · 9 months

Text

last eden - i . | lmh

part i, ii, iii

only one thing has ever mattered to you, in this lifetime, and in all others : mark lee — even if he doesn't know yet, and even if he may never remember.

pairing: mark x reader verse: canon/idol!verse, soulmates trope rating: T warnings: none, possibly some mild language, like... one very tame mention of making love ig word count: 4.3k

A/N: yeah i have a lot of these fics that i'm repurposing that i desperately want to post so i can continue them so please look the other way at my random over enthusiasm i beg !! my only long-standing mark fic is actually gorgeous, and while we do love a good raunchy piece, i love mark way too much to keep it to just that. this was my first ever fic on my old blog, and i'm quite attached to the idea despite the fact that it's actually very difficult for me to write. i changed the name because i actually love this song by maktub (anything he puts out is gold to me), which i think generally fits the vibe of the story, so give it a listen if you're interested! so i hope you all enjoy this idol!verse soulmates fic! (help a gal out by reblogging, liking, and leaving a few kind words if you're so inclined!)

“This isn’t really your best idea.”

You know this. You’re fully aware of the possible and endless risks as well as the minimal benefits. But you have to go. The thing that Heehyeon, your roommate, doesn’t fully understand is that this could be your one and only shot, and it could mean life or death. And you know that sounds pretty dramatic, but it really is. you don’t really have all the details (when, where, how, the important stuff) but that doesn’t matter to you right now.

What really matters is that today is NCT’s comeback stage at M! Countdown, and you have to be there.

Unfortunately, this isn’t one of those things you have to go to because your a die-hard fan and you just have to support the group and do all those fan chants and lie to your mom about going to the library when you’re really staying over outside a company building for hours just to wave those silly, expensive light sticks that look like they came out of the factory a bit funny. Sure, NCT’s music was nice (enough), but that isn’t really the reason why you told your mom not to come over this weekend because you would be out on a company team building retreat (as if they actually do that). More than anything, you knew you had to take this chance to see him.

When you don’t respond, Heehyeon presses on with a firmer tone, as if she’s determined to convince you even though you both know nothing is really going to stop you at this point.

“Listen to me, _____________. You are going to a tightly-packed music show with at least a hundred other fans, and you are going to stand in the middle of that dense crowd and — and what? Stare up at him. That’s it. He’s not going to see you; that stage is so high up he’ll probably only catch a look at your forehead, and that’s if you make it up front. And since we both know you’re neither the tallest nor the luckiest person in the world, you know the odds are against you. You’re probably going to get pushed to the back, or stampeded, and it’s going to be messy, and you’re going to push, and they’re going to push you back, and your make-up is going to fall apart, or whatever. Is this really worth it?”

“I told you,” you try to sound patient, but the idea of being buffeted away from the stage by a large wave of sweaty bodies causes more discomfort than you had originally anticipated thanks to her colorful and supremely unhelpful description. “If being near the stage doesn’t work out, I’ll wait out back, near the exit, and —“

“Oh yeah, and ambush him. Because you’ll be the only one there, and because that’s totally safe.” She drops the slightly (well, pretty) judgmental tone when she sees your bottom lip quiver. “I’m not… I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to reach out to him. But this doesn’t sound like the best way, _____________. Security is so tight there, and NCT’s security is even more wary. Even if you do manage to get close, what in the world are you going to say?”

“I— I’ll figure it out once I’m there.” You purse your lips; surely I love you; we’re meant to be together wouldn’t be that hard on your end, but the more important question is: did it sound sane? You didn’t express this doubt, though. Doing so would give your roommate more ammunition to turn back at you; you’d play it by ear when you actually got around to making eye contact with him (if that ever happened at all). And — well, maybe you wouldn’t have to say anything. Maybe, just maybe, this time, he’d remember you.

At that thought, you feel an initial wave of laughter, closely followed by a second, much more painful wave of nausea. Of all the absurd things you could think of, that was probably the most ridiculous.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she recapitulates, shaking her head. “You know what they do to people who stalk idols and say they’re really going to get married to them, or whatever. You know what they’d call you.”

“But I’m not crazy like that,” you argue.

“I know that, but they don’t know anything about you! You’d be labeled a sasaeng. They’ll probably think you’re one of those girls that sneak into their dorms and sniff their underwear before selling them on the dark side of Taobao through a weird Chinese proxy or something.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You ball your fists at your side, feeling a little betrayed. Heehyeon, of all people, should be able to understand why you had to do this, even if it was ludicrous. She had remembered you, reached out to you before you could even place her. She’d heard your story, understood that you had been waiting years for this moment, even stopped you on other occasions when you were about to do the same thing you were planning now, saying it wasn’t the right time. “I don’t have any other way of contacting him. I don’t even know if this is going to work, but you know I have to try, and I feel like this is the right time. I have to see him. I have to — I have to be with him. I don’t need your blessing to go, you know.”

There’s a palpable tension hanging over you now, and Heehyeon’s expression has gone mostly unreadable, save for that twinge of worry still present in her gaze. The soft sound of regular, heavy exhales punctuate every few seconds that pass, and you realize a little later that it’s your breathing, which has turned a bit heavy from the energy spent sort-of yelling at your roommate.

“I know that,” she finally sighs. “I know that, _____________. I just wish you used a different way. Like, a safer, less crazy one.”

“I would use one if there were one.” You frown. “I’m not going to do anything stupid, like attack him. I would never do that.”

She doesn’t say much anymore, opting to watch you instead as you stuff a few more essential things in your bag. A hat. A fan. a bottle of water. Heehyeon had tried to coerce you to buy one of those cheering kits with those slogans, but you didn’t want to waste your money on it, and, truthfully, you didn’t want his name hanging on your walls like some sick reminder in case he rejected you.

“What did you tell your manager?” She asks in a clear attempt to lighten the mood.

“I told her I was sick. You know she never really asks as long as I find someone to substitute for me,” you sling your bag over your shoulder, standing straighter. “How do I look?”

“Pretty damn healthy,” she notes. “But also kind of crazy.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Heehyeon,” you roll your eyes as you make your way out of the room. Before you close the door, she makes one last quick remark.

“Not if I see you on the evening news first!”

You have to take two buses to get to Sangamsan-ro. Even though the traffic is generally mild, the buses make too many stops and wait too long for old ladies with their fruit baskets and newspapers to get on. The wait is making you anxious, and you think about getting an orange to abate your growing hunger, but you’re also so nervous that you’re sure you’re going to spew it all out onto the bus floor anyway. So, you content yourself with listening to music and fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

All you have in your phone is NCT’s music. The files were so large that you’d had to delete everything else you used to listen to and a handful of pictures too (mostly selfies that would have never seen the light of day, anyway) just to get them to fit. You used to only listen to the Korean versions, but you’d found all these little nuances in how Mark raps his lines depending on the language, so you’d started listening to the English and Japanese releases too, even though you can’t understand a lick of anything but ‘baby.’ Most of the time, you skip over to the relevant (see: Mark-filled) parts, already having memorized their timestamps to a kind of sick degree.

It was kind of dumb, and sort of selfish, but you had never really identified yourself as an NCT fan anyway. If you had been an active part of the groups following, people would have probably called you an akgae. You were really only concerned with one member, and it was that member’s voice that filled your ears when you’d plugged your earbuds in and put the volume up.

The first time you’d seen him was in your last year of college. One of your college friends had asked you to accompany them to a Nature Republic outlet downtown. Despite your general lack of interest in make-up at that point in time, you’d gone because she’d promised to buy you a corndog. What you’d gotten instead was a large standee of a handsome guy smiling at you and holding out a pot of aloe vera gel.

You knew his eyes. Even though his features changed a million times in your memory, you could never mistake his eyes for anyone else’s — soft, warm, brown eyes that you’d stared into for truly an eternity. His were eyes you could never forget, were never allowed to forget. You could remember the millions of times they’d smiled up at you in those past lives you were haunted with, twinkled with mischief and laughter in your presence, borne deep into yours on hot summer nights as you made love. Of all the uncertain things in all of the lives you remembered living, these eyes acted as your anchor.

You’d almost forgotten you were there with a friend until she’d called out to you, telling you to step inside the shop. Trying to sound disinterested despite the fact that your heart was pounding, you asked who the guy in the standee was. Mark, she’d called him. Mark of NCT. He was an idol, a rapper in one of those up and coming groups that was starting to gain a lot of attention within the general public because of their ‘cool, chic concepts.’ At that information, your heart had fallen into a pool of acid in your stomach.

Other times were hard, but not this hard. Most of the factors that had kept you or torn you apart were much larger in scale — war, famine, other natural disasters. This, out of all the other times, seemed to be the most difficult; he wasn’t an ordinary man anymore, but a god among men — a god you couldn’t be allowed to approach. You had ditched your friend the moment she’d gotten her change back at the counter, citing a sudden time of the month as the root cause, and dashed out and back to school, sparing only one last glance at the standee.

You’d been waiting for him for years, carefully looking for any sign of him in the people around you, but you had grown tired and had come to believe that maybe, in this life, you had been set free — that he didn’t exist, and the curse would be over. However, as you pored over each and every teaser, music video, advertisement, and blurry, noise-heavy radio interview you could find even a sliver of his face in, you realized that the curse had come back, and in a much larger force than you could ever imagine.

You’d stared at your desk for the longest time that day; the sun had dipped out of sight already when you’d sighed yourself out of your trance. It had never been this difficult. Having the Memory was mostly the worst thing ever, but its usual perk was that you could pick him out a little easier, and he was never too far away — nobody you ever knew in your first life ever was. They just kept coming up again and again, running around in little circles throughout time and space, and you recognized them in a way you’ve come to grow familiar with. It’s a tug, sort of like a tickle in your stomach, and you knew then that he was close by. The signal only stopped when you found him, and it usually wasn’t that hard. From there, you were responsible for weaving the same kind of story — one in which you would fall in love, be happy for a period of time, and then… well.

Heehyeon has the Memory, too. She’d remembered you from a previous life, too, and picked you out of a packed line at a coffee shop, striking up one of the most awkward conversations you’d ever had the displeasure of being a part of because she hadn’t been sure if you remembered her. It was only when she mentioned that you seemed like someone she could be good friends with and that you also seemed like you just happened to like your coffee black with two sugars did you realize that her sudden onslaught of friendliness was a sign she might be like you: unable to forget. She’d actually once asked you if you’d tried just letting him go, and you’d responded with a resolute no. At this point, it was too hard to call him a lost cause, even if he really seemed it. How could you stop loving someone you know you’ve loved for millennia?

He’s extremely handsome in this life, you’ve noted. Girls were falling all over him, which only made things ten times harder. A couple of years back, some rumors of him dating a labelmate had come up. Heehyeon had talked you through that long night of you clutching tissues in a fist and sobbing about how you didn’t want this anymore, how it was never fair, how every single time you had to find him was just growing more and more difficult until it seemed to reach an impossible arc. But, mostly, you’d cried because you hated the possibility — probably the confirmation — that he didn’t remember you at all.

You didn’t really expect him to, but you always hoped. Every life, you would approach him, and he would be a clean slate. It was a tiring process, one you wished you weren’t constantly responsible for. Some days, you resented him; how could he live his life carefree, without even the notion that you two were meant to be together? Most days, though, you just longed for him. Him, and a happy ending.

You let out a sigh as the track changes. His voice greets you again; over time, you’ve noticed it sounding even cooler, more impactful. He’s doing well for himself. And here you are, attempting to make yourself stand out in a pool of fans he probably can’t even see clearly. Nice.

You get to listen to about half of the newly released album before you realize you’re nearing your stop. Sidestepping a couple of baskets of oranges, you make it to the door and dash out. Heehyeon had drawn you a crude map to CJ E&M, and you’d been skeptical of it at first, but you realize now you would have gotten lost and missed the stage long before you got there if you had gone in blind. You’d make sure to thank her when you got back. If you did actually come back in one piece.

Heehyeon also hadn’t been joking; the line outside looks like it would fill a whole section of Jamsil. You’d heard of the dedication of some of these fans, but you’d never seen it like this, nor had you ever actually been a part of it. Kids were really up at three in the morning in support of NCT. Many of them are probably here specifically in support of Mark, you think. Sure enough, the people you line up behind are holding holographic slogans with the print “Mark-yah!” You swallow hard, trying not to regret your decision not to partake in that.

It feels like hours before you get even close to the door of the building. The chatter has died down a little, but not by much; even with less people ahead of you, the noise pollution increases in tandem with the excitement in the atmosphere. You’re not excited, though. You’re sick to your stomach, wishing you hadn’t come alone and wondering if you were going to regret this. Probably. Luckily, a couple of teenagers behind you strike up a casual conversation starting with “ah, it’s getting more humid now,” and you take turns complaining about what the weather would probably be like later on in the day before you start talking about NCT. They’re both Jaehyun fans, and you think about whether or not you remember meeting him in a past life. Nothing really rings a bell.

When you tell them you’re here for Mark, they giggle.

“We know,” they chime. “You’re wearing blue.”

“It’s his favorite color,” you say, a little defensively.

“Everyone knows that. Everyone here wearing that ocean blue is a Mark fan. Didn’t he say so once?” They dissolve into laughter again, but you say nothing. Maybe he had said that recently. Then again, his favorite color has always been blue — the color of the sky and the sea he seems to love so much.

The line grows shorter and shorter, and your ankles feel like they’re starting to swell. You’ve been standing for a good two hours now, and you regret not having bought one of those NCT membership cards that get you up to the front of the line. It’s really no surprise that you, the two Jaehyun fans, and the others in the line behind you are all squished in the back, just like Heehyeon had said you would be. It takes a good twenty minutes before the lights dim down and the stage lights start up, and you hear the buzz that increases in volume right before it becomes a collective deafening shriek from the crowd. The light sticks go up, and you’re momentarily blinded by the large stars that blink NCT in some weird logo form before you get your bearings again. By that time, the members have begun trooping onto the stage in a single file, and you forget your swollen ankles as you tiptoe and crane your head for a better view.

He’s there, your mind screams. He’s right there. You’ve got a whole crowd in front of you, but he’s right there.

The Jaehyun fans are losing their mind too; he’s talking, asking them how they found the album and encouraging them to keep supporting it. Typical idol stuff, you assume, but the fans go wild in an attempt to reassure him that they will. They all speak in a line, and you note Mark will be last. When the mic is handed over to him, the fans start screaming again. You feel like you want to yell as well, except you’re not sure if you’ll say something actually coherent that other people will hear. Instead, you tiptoe a little higher, fixing your pretty bad eyesight on his face and perking your ears up.

“You’re all here so early,” he starts. “How long have you been waiting for us?”

A flurry of numbers fly across the room. He smiles in this genuinely affectionate way even though his eyes can’t focus on a single person in the dark, and your heart stutters at the sight.

“Do your mothers know you’re here?” He’s teasing now. “You can’t tell them that NCT is the reason you’re not sleeping well, you know. Everyone, make sure that you eat breakfast and rest well before school today, okay?”

While the crowd screams in response, you let out a little whimper. It’s a weak, pathetic sound, but it essentially sums up how you feel, seeing him like this from so far away.

The pre-recording starts, but you barely catch anything. You’re too small for this kind of life, and you get so tired of tiptoeing that you actually do try to push your way through the crowd. Of course, this is fruitless, and you end up squatting by the back wall of the room, sipping on your water conservatively and listening to the Jaehyun fans do the chant religiously.

NCT performs the song two more times before they’re saying their goodbyes. You muster up the energy to stand again and make a beeline for the exit before everyone else can smash their way through. The sun is almost up now; beads of sweat form on the nape of your neck as you round the building, trying to find the indicated spot that Heehyeon had marked as the back exit of CJ E&M. You worry about how you’re in the wrong place for about ten minutes until you see the two Jaehyun fans turning the corner quickly, obviously with the same goal as you: to catch NCT as they leave the building.

In no time, the fans have gathered at the spot again, and it seems like they’ve multiplied tenfold; the chants are louder and there are girls with gigantic cameras trying to shove you away from the spot. Security from the company camps out in front of you, their gazes shifting from the door to the crowd and back again.

People around you roar the moment the doorknob turns. Nine of them file out, now in regular clothing, surrounded by their own security. You feel a surge of force behind you, trying to push forward, and someone’s camera lens hits you hard in the side of the face. You barely have time to cry out in surprise, caught in what would have been a scream of pain, when you see him.

In the growing light, Mark looks like a king. No — like a god, actually. Everything on his face shines even when minimal sunlight strikes it; his teeth help, too, brightening his face as his mouth hangs open in an easy laugh. He’s talking to Doyoung and has to face him, his sharp jawline being the first thing anyone can see from that perspective, and it’s that angle that creates all these alarms in your head.

For some reason, you’ve blocked out the noise around you. Even the pain from the camera lens attack isn’t bothering you as much anymore; you feel like you’re in an aquarium, and all the screams are on the other side of the glass. Your vision tunnels; all you can see is him.

You’d promised Heehyeon you wouldn’t do anything stupid. Again and again, she’d asked you and drilled you and reminded you that you weren’t supposed to do anything that would get you into trouble. Even with those promises you’d made, she’d still doubted you. Later, when you’d tell her this story, she’d roll her eyes and yell I told you so!, because, well, she did tell you. And, when you’d look at it in retrospect, you’d see that you should have listened.

Right now, though, you’re walking. Somehow, the camera lens that had attacked you had turned its gaze onto much more important targets; the guard stationed in front of you grunted in pain and reflexively retracted his hand after the lens made contact with it. It wasn’t a long movement, but it was enough for you to be pushed forward by the crowd. Enough to get your feet moving.

Other fans had stopped trying to break through; though many were still hysterical, most were trying to take pictures of the members as they climbed into the van. One by one, they were disappearing before your eyes. No, you thought to yourself. Your chest tightened. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think that the noise behind you has gotten much louder. Not now. He hasn’t seen me yet. Not yet, please.

You don’t realize that your feet have picked up the pace, and you’ve broken into a short sprint before the building security could catch you. It’s too late; he can’t leave his post, and he only has to hope that NCT’s staff are well-equipped to fend off a running girl. They are, but they’re too busy helping the members that they’re caught unaware — just long enough for you to be within an arm’s reach of them.

Mark is almost in the van; he’s caught off-guard, too, and he doesn’t realize that something’s not right until you’re already there. Security grabs his arm and tries to tug him out of your reach and into the van at the same time that a strong hand grapples at the back of your shirt. Doyoung, who had been by Mark’s side, tries to use his arms to shield you from his friend when he realizes who you are targeting, yelling out something you can’t really understand.

It’s a ten-second long struggle of limbs in which you hear your own “Let go of me!” harmonize perfectly with Mark’s frantic “What the —?” Somehow, though, you’re able to fight through Doyoung’s arms and grip Mark’s wrist with a sweaty palm. The contact causes him to turn back reflexively, eyes wide in shock.

His eyes. God, please, won’t he recognize me? Your fingers close around his wrist a little more tightly. Your mouth is dry, and your throat is on fire. You’re wasting precious time. You only manage out a weak, “Please, Mark, it’s me,” before he’s twisting his wrist away. The arm that gripped your shirt moves to lock around your waist, and you’re hauled, empty-handed, away from the van. Awareness you’d lost slowly trickles back into you. The crowd isn’t screaming at the members now; they’re screaming at you. They’re angry. As you’re dragged away, you vaguely note that the Jaehyun fans you were with are fuming behind the security guards still keeping them in place.

The security guard that carried you off like a rag doll plants you in front of him, and he lets go of your waist but still keeps his grip tight around both your forearms, which have been twisted behind you. You have no choice but to watch from afar as the members drag Mark into the van, looks of concern etched across their faces. They ask him if he’s hurt, and he shakes his head. Right before the door closes, he quickly glances back at you. Your heart sinks for the second time today as you see something in his eyes you’d never seen before.

Fear. Mark is afraid of you.

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buckys-black-dress · 2 years

Text

i follow you (pretend you want me to)

a/n: hey guys. i know its been a reeaaaally long time but here we are with a nice lil best friends brother bucky fic! this is what happens when your best friend has a cute older brother but you know it'll never happen.

wc: 3k words

[ best friend's brother!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

You never, ever, in all in your years, imagine you would find yourself in the position you're currently in.

As someone who only recently became local to the New York City area, your best friend Rebecca has been letting you stay at her place as a favor as you search for an apartment.

It's been a bit difficult so far, as the rent is insanely expensive and you've been extremely busy with your job as a new nurse.

The other part?

Oh, right.

The fact that Rebecca lives with her shy, albeit gorgeous, older brother, James.

You've been best friends with Rebecca for 3 years now, but you both clicked so easily from the beginning, like sisters. You would spend any free weekends traveling to New York to see her, which meant staying with James when he was there.

At first, you never realized that James himself was just a quiet guy. At times, his silence made you uneasy; like he was silently judging you.

But over time, you've come to realize he just kept to himself. He was also a big homebody, but he still has a solid friend group that he goes out with from time to time.

So back to the current situation.

Rebecca had an early class she had on Fridays, and she left while telling you to make yourself at home and raid the fridge for breakfast.

So, naturally, you asked James if he'd like some, as well.

And he agreed. So you got started on a breakfast spread that Rebecca could have some of when she got back as well.

"You made so much food, Y/N. Who's gonna eat all of this?" James comes out of his room, sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a white t-shirt that may be a size too small for him.

Good god. Why am I staying here? I really need to find my own place. Fast.

"Oh, well... I felt bad. So I thought I'd make enough for Becca when she got back. It's also a thank you for letting me stay here, I guess." You justify with a timid smile.

"You know you're always welcome here, Y/N." He smiles and you feel your heart stutter.

"Thanks, James. I really appreciate it. Anyways, the food's all ready if you wanna sit and eat?"

He nods and takes his place at one of the wooden stools on the other side of the counter and you slide a plate in front of him.

"So, Y/N, I never asked you about what happened when you got home?" James poses after a few minutes of silence.

He was referring to when while you were gone for a weekend coming to see Becca, but your mom had recently found out you had gotten a tattoo on a whim while you were out with friends one weekend.

Of course, you hid it from your parents, and while you were careful to not let it show, you knew the spot wasn't too hidden and it was only a matter of time until they saw.

Your mother saw it on a faithful afternoon, and from there it spiraled.

Your dad hated tattoos, but your parents had let you get one when you first turned 18 as a one-and-done deal.

Of course, one wasn't enough.

The tattoo was on your inner upper arm, placed delicately right in the crook of your underarm. You often had to look for it to see it. It was a small envelope with a heart sealing it. It was simple and cute, on a whim you decided to get it and you loved it.

Although you didn't think every tattoo had to have some deep meaning, this one was just for you.

But alas, while you were away for a weekend, your mother had decided to tell your father about it.

It was a good thing... and a bad thing.

On one hand, you knew he was going to be extremely upset with you.

But on the other, he had a few days to process what you did while you were still gone, and you hoped this would help him calm down a little bit before you got back.

While you were with Becca, James was the one who found you in a panic about the news when your mother told you that she told your father.

"Hey, you okay?" His voice comes from across the room.

Your form on the couch is quite the sight. Eyes, bulging and wide. Shoulders squared and tense. Not a hint of a smile on your face.

"Uh- I... I am not. But that's alright. I can deal with it later." You try to laugh it off.

"No, what's wrong? Maybe I can help." He offers, and you smile at that. You wonder how a while ago, you thought he hated you. He was just a quiet person.

"I just... I'm in trouble with my parents. I got a tattoo a while back and my mom saw it, and now she told my dad while I'm here. So I think I might get my ass kicked once I get back home." You explain with a nervous laugh.

"Oh... that really sucks. What's the tattoo?" He asks curiously, and you lift your t-shirt sleeve to point it out. "That's not so bad... trust me, I've seen much worse."

"Yeah, my parents just don't love tattoos and I was only supposed to have one that they allowed, but this one was just for me, you know?" You tell him.

"I get it... I mean, you're probably gonna still get more down the line, so maybe this is a good thing. Get them acclimated to them." James laughs, and it makes you crack a smile.

"Oh," you breathed out a laugh, "it was honestly fine. He got mad for a few minutes and kind of got over it. He would get pissed when I would wear shirts where you could see it but he's pretty much past it now."

"That's good. So does that mean it's okay if you get more, or they're still gonna give you a hard time?" He wonders.

"Funny, I've actually already gotten another since then. But it's also pretty small." It was kind of ironic how big of a deal your parents made, but they just decided you were never going to listen. So now, it was just best to do whatever you wanted.

Which was to get a bunch of tattoos.

"Really? Can I see?"

The question catches you off guard for a moment, not expecting him to be so eager to ask you to see the new ink.

"Oh! Sure, it's on my back, so let me just..." Your voice trails off, quickly turning away from him to lift the back of your t-shirt that you've slept in. "I think this one is my favorite so far." Your voice is weak, feeling exposed with your entire bare back out.

The tattoo was on your back, just below your left shoulder blade. It was a unique placement to you, the wording you've chosen going vertically rather than horizontally.

The script reads 'golden' in the most delicate cursive, written by your grandmother. It was your first tattoo that held sentimental value, and you loved it more than anything you've ever seen.

The silence hung in the air, and you could feel his eyes lingering on the one patch of ink on your back. You wish you could look at him and see what he if he had anything particular that could give away how he was feeling.

You wanted to speak, but there seemed to be too much tension that built in your throat.

When you almost got the courage to say something, you feel a light fingertip skate right over the spot. You're pretty sure all breathing stops.

Oh, now I'm not saying anything.

"It's... it's a beautiful tattoo. Suits you well." James' voice was low and raspy, and it made you shiver. As if him being in such close proximity to you was causing him physical pain.

"Thanks..." You struggle to catch your breath. What the hell is going on?

Not once, in all your years of knowing him, has James ever made it even seem like he had any interest in you. But now... now your head was spinning and his finger was still tracing over your skin and you can't fucking breathe.

"I- uh, sorry, I should start on these dishes." You nervously spit out, somehow forming a coherent sentence.

But as you move to get out of your chair, the same hand that was on your back a few, mere moments ago was now holding your wrist. It was as if his entire hand swallowed it.

Fuck.

"Y/N." He holds your gaze a little too intently, squirming under it.

"James..."

"Did I... was that uncomfortable? Did I go too far?" He sounded nervous, and you almost wanted to cry at how sincere he sounded.

"Oh, no! No, no, James, you- no, you're absolutely fine! I- I wasn't expecting it, and you touched me, which I don't think you've ever done it like that before, and it was just a lot-"

"A lot?" James' mouth is slanting into a grin and you hate how handsome he looks, you despise how devastatingly beautiful he is.

"Don't smile at me like that, you have never once in your life smiled at me in that way and I don't think I can survive this if you're making fun of me."

"Making fun of you? Y/N, I would never-"

"Oh you so would, don't even start with that."

"Well, I wasn't doing it this time! Jus' really like your... tattoo..." The uncertainty of his voice makes you pause your spiraling thoughts for a moment, and you have to take a good look at him.

"You like it?" You take your seat next to him again, facing him.

You were closer to him than you remember before.

"Well, more than like it, but whatever." He mumbles under his breath, his eyes trained on your face.

Your breathing practically stops at his confession, not knowing what to do with this information.

But it seems like he does. His vision has not once wavered from your eyes or lips.

Why is he looking at your lips like that?

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" James' tone is quiet, intimate.

Oh. That's why.

"Yeah." You can barely strangle out of your throat, but you needed to say it before this opportunity slipped right out of your grasp.

And before you could even suggest that he didn't have to kiss you if he really didn't want to, you feel the breath escape your lungs as James places his lips upon yours.

They're chapped, a little rough, but you don't mind it one single bit. His hands come to envelop the sides of your face, and you think you could become a puddle on the stool, right there and then.

For a moment, you feel like none of this was real. What are the odds, your best friend's extremely cute older brother, who you've found attractive for some time now, is kissing you? The same one who has always acted indifferent around you? The one you thought saw you as nothing?

When you finally, (begrudgingly,) pull away from him, you have to take a moment to yourself; your eyes stay closed. Maybe this was all a dream and you've been imagining this whole thing.

"Open your eyes, Y/N. I wanna see those pretty E/C eyes." James doesn't demand, but his tone makes you want to open your eyes.

As your gaze is fixed on him, you wonder what he's thinking. What did he think of that kiss? Did he like it? Was it something he wanted to do again? Did he absolutely hate it and never wanted to see you again?

"I can sense you're spiraling in there, sweetheart. What's going on up there?" His hand is caressing the side of your face, and you feel like you could melt just there and then. A puddle on a stool in the kitchen is how Rebecca will find you when she gets back.

"I... I don't know. All I can think about is your hand on my face right now." Is what you can bring yourself to answer with right now.

"Do you like my hand being there? Or would you like me to move it?"

"No, please don't move it. I don't know what'll happen if you do." You sigh dramatically, and it elicits a smile from him.

"What do you mean?"

"What if you move your hand and suddenly I wake up and this was all some cruel dream? What if this isn't real and it's all in my head right now?" You ask, quite pathetically, you admit.

"It's not a dream, angel. I kissed you. You let me. And I think now would be the appropriate time for me to ask you something." James says gently, like the bubble around you two will burst if he speaks any louder.

Your brow furrows in question, and you nod for him to go on.

"Would it be alright if I asked you out? On a real date? I've been wanting to take you out for a while now... and I think now's a good time to ask." He smiles that smirk again, and you want to melt all over again.

"I would really, really love that, James." You feel like you're floating right now, like it's too good to be true. "Can I tell you something funny?" He nods.

"I've... I thought you were cute from the day I first met you. But you always acted so... indifferent around me, so I never thought I even stood a chance, and I kinda gave up on the idea you'd ever see me that way. But now... I think this is one of the best days of my life."

A moment of silence passes between you two.

"Y/N... the first time Becca introduced me to you, I thought to myself, 'She's the most gorgeous person I've ever seen.' And from that day on, I tried to find a way to talk to you, but I was just a wimp. But trust me, you were running circles 'round my mind from the first day." He confesses, and you feel the blush overtake your face at his confession.

"Really, James?"

"Really, Y/N." His smile makes you believe it.

"I knew it! I knew it, I was wondering when one of you wan gonna break!' Rebecca's voice comes from the doorway of the apartment, you and James breaking apart at the yell.

"Jesus, Reb, gonna give me a heart attack one day." James mumbles.

"Shut up! Don't try and change the subject! I knew you two had a thing for each other. Did you guys kiss? Oh my-" Her dramatics continue on, and you hold back the smile while rolling your eyes.

"Well, your brother here is going to take me out on a date. Happy?" You supply, hoping it'll calm her down.

Of course, it does the opposite.

"Really? Holy shit, didn't think you had it in ya, Jamie! Good job!"

"Rebecca... please. I'm two seconds away from tackling you to the ground."

"Try your best, big guy. I can handle it!" She replies, and you stifle your giggle as James moves up from his seat and starts towards his sister.

"No!" She shrieks, running away.

"You said you could handle it!" James' voice resonates from another room she ran into.

"I lied! Stop! Leave me alone! Y/N, help!"

"Sorry, Reb. I got nothin'!" You yell out, hoping she heard you.

"Oh, I see how it is, now that he told you he likes you you're taking his side!" She runs out, James hot on her heels.

"That's right!" He confirms, flashing you a quick grin as he runs.

"James, leave her alone. I have something for you!" You hope to catch his attention, and it works when he stops right in front of you.

"What's that, pretty girl?" His arms come on either side of you on the chair and countertop as you're sat sideways on the stool.

You don't speak, just pushing yourself up to meet his lips once again, feeling him melt into you as your hands lace behind his neck to pull him down even further.

"God, now I'm gonna have to get used to this." Rebecca fakes a gag at you two.

"Yeah, you better. She's not goin' anywhere." James replies without moving his eyes off of you. "C'mon, both of you, get ready. Gotta treat both my girls to a nice cup of coffee. Ten minutes!"

As you nod, you watch him walk into his room, and Rebecca just stares at you with a maniac smile. She moves towards you and wraps you in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so happy for the both of you. I can't believe he finally made a move." She tells you.

"You knew?"

"I could tell. He always had that look in his eyes when you weren't looking." Rebecca explains.

"What look?" You ask, bewildered.

"Y'know... the look. The look that you can't see, but everyone else can tell. He's got hearts in his eyes and angels flying around his head." She laughs.

You can't say anything, stunned by her words, but she just pats your shoulder and motions for you to get ready.

"C'mon, let's get you dressed, or we'll never hear the end of it from him."

"I heard that!" James' voice echoes from his room, and you both laugh.

As you walk into Rebecca's room, you can't help feel like you're finally whole. Like you aren't crazy, and that maybe... just maybe... there really is someone for everyone.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader fluff #best friend's brother!bucky #best friend's brother!bucky x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for going to an out of state event rather than helping my older brother with moving my injured mom to a new apartment?

(rather than listing specifics just know everyone involved is an adult with their own living spaces and lives) A few weeks ago my mom injured her knee at work and has to wear a knee brace. As soon as I heard I made the 2 hour drive to go help her at the hospital and drive her back to her apartment. Her current apartment is up 3 flights of stairs (no elevator). I couldn't stay longer than that as I had work, so my oldest brother drove 4 hours to stay with her for three days. I came back on the last day he was there to get her dog, and have been watching her dog since. It's apt to be a 4-6 month recovery period, and my mom wanted to live closer to me and my other older brother anyways, so she decided to find a new ground level apartment and is moving.

There was a large event over the weekend that I've been planning to go to since well before her injury. The Wednesday after the event was the move-in day, and I was back Sunday at 3am and was planning on helping her move Tuesday and Wednesday. She was aware of this and excited for me. So, I went to my event a few states away, had a great deal of fun. Over the weekend while I was at my event, my brother made the trip to help pack and make a couple trips back and forth between the new and old apartment (4 hours there and back) It was around 14 hours worth of driving for him. I was never asked to assist with this, I didn't actually even know he was making the trip down and assumed my mom was just going to have the movers and I help her on Wednesday.

When I got back and chatted a bit in the family group chat, I was surprised by how much work my brother did over the weekend. I called to check in on him and thank him for his help. While we were chatting, he mentioned it was better that I wasn't there, it was too crowded. I took this at face value. I asked him how it went and gave him the opportunity to vent. I started talking about my show, what a great deal of fun it was and how happy I was that I went- it was for something I'm really passionate about! Thinking back, it may have sounded like I was boasting, I wasn't meaning to.

He suddenly got irritated and said he was put off by me going, went on to say it bothered him that I was complaining about my mom's dog in the family chat so much- the dog is VERY annoying, whines and barks frequently, her presence has prevented me from letting my pigeon have quality time out of her cage because the dog whines when kenneled. It wasn't constant complaining, more humored things along the lines of, "just 7 more days of this awful beast," and send a picture of the dog doing nothing in particular, or "why is she like this?" and a video of her staring at me and making weird dog noises. My family is all aware of the fact that I don't like dogs, but I was willing to put up with my mom's dog of course. I didn't think I needed to be happy about it. This is mostly unrelated but he did bring it up as a point.

Anyways, my brother said I was doing the bare minimum and selfish. I stood my ground and said I did not regret going to the event, I was happy I did it and had planned to months in advance. I suppose I could've apologized for seeming like I was boasting, but frankly that wasn't my intent- I was just happy about an experience I had. He did try to change the subject, but I think I must have said something along the lines of, "I'm not going to apologize for doing something for myself." I should have brought up the fact that our mom did not once ask me to come help over the weekend, just during the week.

Instead, he got mad and abruptly said he'd talk to me later, I started to say, "oh, okay, I love you," and he hung up...which really upset me. I cried afterwards and my other brother had to console me because I took it very personally. We always say I love you and never fight, we bicker from time to time but not about, like, real stuff.

I know I shouldn't have talked so much about how good my weekend was when he spent his driving back and forth, on top of that when he got home he discovered something was wrong with his car (my mom already told him his car is ancient and she would help cosign to get a new one), so I understand why he was upset and I do understand that he was in the wrong for being a dick about not saying I love you back...however, I can't tell if I should have come help move things even though I wasn't asked to. Is that something I should have just offered to do even though I'm helping during the actual move? Was I the asshole for talking about my fun thing after he did something laborious?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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ayelbee · 1 year

Text

MORE THAN LOVE | K. MBAPPÉ | 2

previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: Sometimes even love is not enough for relationships. But it's fine because you are over it. But getting again in a contact with his younger brother wasn't smart.

TW: shitty english grammer, poor writing skills and few swear words

Notes: Hey, firstly i want to thank all of you for the activity on my previous post, i didn't expect that! It means the world to me, so thank you very much <3 ! Also if you want to be added to the tag list let me know. And lastly, i know that today's part isn't really entertaining but i promise that the next chapter will be better.

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You loved fridays, not just because you knew that weekend was ahead, but also because on friday nights new exhibitions were opening. This friday was the opening of the exhibition that you were working on since October, the author of the paintings herself was attending to it which made everything even more special. You were so excited.

It was a week after Ethan's birthday and in a meantime, you both decided that the two of you will meet tomorrow for your movie marathon. That was also the reason why you spent the whole yesterday cleaning your apartment and why you also spent three hours grocery shopping so you could have all the snacks you both love so much.

Now you were just getting ready for the opening. You weren't able to decide if you should wear a long-sleeved dress or wide-leg jeans with a backless top and a blazer over it. You were more into the dress, but your best friend on the other hand was begging you to choose your second option.

"Y/n if you are going to go with that dress no one will pay attention to those paintings there." she laughed, you could also hear a door opening in the background.

"You are ridiculous." if you two weren't face timing each other you would probably poke her in the shoulder for not really helping you.

"Look, even Lukas thinks that you should go with the jeans, right Lukas?" now you saw her boyfriend's face on your screen who was almost aggressively nodding his head. In the end, you decided to stick with their option as you started to grow more nervous about running out of time.

"Okay, thank you, guys. See you next week." you waved your hand to say goodbye and then just hung up.

You finished your look with a purse and nice pair of heels, catching a quick glance into the mirror before rushing from your flat to catch the cab that was already waiting for you outside of your apartment building. In the cab you noticed a notification from Ethan on your phone, he was asking for your address so his mum could drop him off at your place tomorrow. You answered with your address attached.

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"You really did a good job with this." your colleague Maria told you as you were both looking at the painting in front of you.

"Thank you, but all I was doing was really listening to the painter herself and how she feels about her paintings and how she thinks that they should be displayed." you shot her a smile as she rubbed your back.

"Oh Y/n if I could be humble as you are." she laughed and you joined her. It was almost midnight, most people were already gone just a few people stayed. You were getting more and more tired and Maria noticed that. "You should go home, you already left here your body and soul." she smiled at you.

"You are probably right, I will just go to say goodbye to the rest." you hugged her as she said goodbye too.

"And Y/n," she called as you were getting more distant from her. You turned your head her direction as she continued "don't forget to be proud on yourself." you shot her one last smile before heading to the last group of people.

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The cold air was hugging your body as you were waiting for your cab, but you didn't care, because you were happy. Happy about yourself, happy about tonight, and happy about the fact that six months ago you never thought that you will be able to smile without him.

You were looking on your instagram on the post you made earlier tonight. Scrolling thru the comments your smile growing just bigger and bigger.

@y/n: Thanks to everyone who came to the opening tonight, it was great! And to the people who weren't able to make it the exhibition is on display till February 15th! Also big thanks to @anxt herself for attending tonight and sharing with us her stories about creating these master pieces!

liked by @hiba_abouk_ and 6 553 others

A familiar voice pulled you away from scrolling thru the comments. Your head automatically snapped upwards just so you could meet with well known sight.

Kylian was walking on the pavement a few meters from you with Achraf on his side. You froze, you didn't see him since August and now you weren't even ready for it now.

Achraf, who was talking to him noticed that Kylian wasn't listening to him. He looked at his face, trying to notice what was he so focused on, and after he saw you, he knew why Kylian was drafted into his own world. Getting closer to you, Achraf slightly pushed into Kylian trying to make him stop staring at you so hard. Which he did.

You on the other hand were praying for your cab to be here as soon as possible. Your wish came true. At that moment Kylian with Achraf were two meters away from you. Achraf saw how awkward this situation already was, so he just said hi to you. You returned his greeting, now saying simple hello two both of them. You couldn't hear Kylian's answer as you jumped into the taxi as soon as it stopped. The driver pushed on the gas as he started to drive away. You exchanged one last look with Kylian who was looking like he just saw a ghost, which he also was in your mind.

"What the fuck was that Kylian?" Achraf pushed again into Kylian as he was still staring at the cab leaving in the dark.

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That night you ended up falling asleep with tears on your cheeks. Making you more than confused. Your breathing getting heavier as you were thinking about seeing Ethan tomorrow. You didn't know why you reacted that way, you know that you couldn't avoid Kylian forever. Paris was a giant city, but Kylian was everywhere.

Because Kylian was Paris and Paris was Kylian.

"What are we going to do today love?" Kylian looked at you as you were lying on his chest.

"I would lie all day in bed and maybe order pasta from that small restaurant you like so much." You answer as you were drawing small circles on his bare chest. Today you both had the day off. No work, no plans, no training or game. Days like this were your favorite days.

"Or we could do something more fun." Kylian was playing with your other hand. Making your fingers tangled up with each other.

"Are you trying to tell me that cuddling with my isn't fun?" you furrowed your brows, making not a nice face at him.

"No, cuddling with you is my favorite thing. But if we are gonna be just lying all day i'm gonna be all stiff tomorrow." He placed a kiss on your head.

"Okay, so what is Mr. I'm gonna be stiff tomorrow suggesting that we should do today?" you let out a simple giggle.

"I think that we should go for a walk as tourists, you know? Getting dressed up so nobody will notice us, going to see the places everybody loves, eating street food and watching the sunset along the Seine." he looked into your eyes, making butterflies in your stomach. But a quick realization came after.

"Well, I'm still a tourist that doesn't belong here." your smile getting smaller now as you referred to a comment that was made under your instagram post today, which made Kylian angry.

"That's not true Y/n. You belong here" You pulled out from him, leaving him confused about why are you standing now.

"Get out of bed Mbappé, we should get dressed." you told him as a way to light up the mood again.

Later that day you were walking thru the city center of Paris hand in hand. Letting out small giggles as you both find entraining the fact that nobody noticed the two of you.

"Hey look there, do you see that hot guy?" you pointed to the flat screen TV in the storefront. Now playing some AD with Kylian in it. "He's everywhere, don't you think?" you laughed.

"It's because he's Paris." he looked deeply into your eyes.

"And Paris is him." you added to it.

"That's also the reason why you belong to Paris Y/n."

"What?" you didn't understand.

"You belong to Paris because Kylian Mbappé loves you so much Mon amour"

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Tag list: @nightlockcornucopia, @she-lives-in-her-dreams, @sorceresski @m4k444

#kylian x reader #kylian imagines #mbappe psg #mbappe imagine #light angst #pov #ethan mbappe #football imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #more then love

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whataperfectwasteoftime · 2 years

Text

Everything

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Anal sex, anal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), Marcus Goddamn Pike is his own warning.

Summary: Marcus is obsessed with your ass.

A/N: I'm embracing the fact that I'm a one-trick pony. This is per the request of @honestly-shite and @pedropascalsx, who both agree that anal with Marcus Pike just hits different. Alternate titles for this include "She made his day, he made her hole weak" and "Episode IV: A New Hole."

Masterlist

You rise up on your tiptoes to reach the glasses in Marcus’s apartment. Keeping them on the top shelf is no problem for him, but with your smaller frame, you have to really stretch to reach them.

You can tell that the borrowed shirt you're wearing is riding up, showing off the lacy underwear you'd worn to impress your boyfriend.

Without warning, a large, warm palm envelops one cheek and squeezes softly, a whispered Fuck falling past Marcus's lips as he feels the swell of your ass underneath his shirt.

Startled, you let out a squeak of surprise and the glass falls from your hand. Not skipping a beat, Marcus grabs it mid-fall and sets it down roughly on the counter before pressing up behind you. You laugh in shock at his impressive reflexes and he chuckles softly too, burying his face in the crook of your neck and scraping his soft stubble lightly against your skin. Both of his hands come to your hips, caging you against him.

"Can't take you anywhere," Marcus teases. "Dropping my glassware."

"You startled me," you murmur, leaning back against him.

The two of you are still in the honeymoon period of your relationship where you can't seem to get enough of each other, always needing to touch, spending weekends like these wrapped up in each other.

Marcus’s hand migrates back down to the globe of your ass and he makes a soft noise of appreciation. "Can't help it," he mutters, "when you're walking around my kitchen in my clothes like this."

"I know," you retort. "That's why I do it."

"You're a bad girl, aren't you?" He teases. "I like that."

Marcus's fingers start to dig into the flesh ever so slightly, and you hum in amusement. This man is obsessed with your ass. He never says anything, but his hands always gravitate there–when you're standing next to each other like this, or when you're straddling on the couch, when you're on your knees on the bed taking everything he has to give, or even in the afterglow laying beside you, with one finger tracing your curves in reverence.

You want more than caresses and light squeezes. You want his tongue, his fingers, you want him to slowly, carefully push his cock inside of you. You wonder if he ever would.

You already know that Marcus Pike is much dirtier than his sweet personality would have you believe–you've seen it in the way he can utterly ruin you in bed (or any surface he can get you on). His dirty talk is unparalleled–murmuring it in your ear, urging you to take it for me, oh, fuck, baby, take it all.

He's never asked, but you just know by the way his fingers dig in so intimately close to your little puckered hole that he wants to take you there, too.

You start to leave little hints here and there. You buy a bottle of lube and put it on Marcus’s nightstand. You constantly wear thongs, enticing him with the sight of your bare cheeks underneath more borrowed t-shirts when you stay over at his apartment.

You even leave an explicit video up on your iPad for Marcus to find. It's one of your favorites–featuring lots of teasing with a sleek jeweled plug, then fingers, before his cock slowly dips just inside, teasing her with the tip again and again until finally sliding home.

You've never done it yourself, but you can't stop watching it in videos. You can't get the image of Marcus patiently working you open before giving you his cock out of your head.

You "accidentally" leave the iPad at his house over the week. If Marcus finds the video, he doesn't say anything about it, although when he opens the door to you on Friday night, his jaw does seem a little more tense than usual. He's always a model gentleman, treating you nicer than anyone's ever treated you before. He's kind, gentle, sweet, and loving, but part of you longs for those kid gloves to come off, for him to let go and lose himself in his pleasure. To take something for himself.

You know exactly what you want him to take.

After dinner, the two of you cuddle on the couch with the pretense of watching a movie, but you straddle him almost immediately, pressing your core down against his stiffening cock ad you subtly rock your hips.

As always, his hands come up under the skirt you're wearing to grab your ass and squeeze, using his grip to guide the movement of your hips.

"Fuck, you're killing me, baby, you know that?" Marcus says breathlessly as you lean down for a messy, passionate kiss.

His fingers are migrating further and further between your cheeks, spreading you slightly as you rub yourself on his clothed cock. Marcus makes another strained sound.

"You can, you know," you murmur softly against his lips.

"Hnng?" Marcus asks distractedly, gently pressing up to meet you.

"You can fuck me there," you whisper. "I want you to."

Marcus seems to blank out for a moment. He blinks twice, his lips parting as he searches your face as if to clarify the meaning of your words.

"You want me…" he trails off.

"I want you here," you say again, gently moving his hand back the extra inch, under the thong you're wearing, until his fingers are resting lightly against your hole.

"Baby," Marcus murmurs. "Are you–are you being serious?" But even as he asks, one finger pushes against you slightly in a promise of what's to come.

The little whimper that falls from your lips at the light pressure seems to be answer enough. Before you can blink, you're on your back on the couch and the delicious weight of Marcus’s body is pressing against you.

"I didn't know," he's whispering against your lips. "I thought I was going crazy. You keep–fuck–you keep wearing all that fucking lingerie, you–oh, my God, and the lube…" he trails off to suck a little bruise into your neck. "You left that little video up on purpose, didn't you?"

"Yes," you admit with a little gasp at the sting of Marcus's teeth.

"I didn't–" Marcus repeats again. "You seem like such a good girl," he says. "So… innocent and sweet and I didn't want to hurt you," he rambles.

"Can't I be both?" you ask with a coy smile.

"Fuck, yes you can," Marcus growls emphatically. "Yes. My perfect, sweet, naughty girl."

Both of your movements start to turn frantic as the two of you hurriedly begin to undress, kissing desperately in between, hands searching, grabbing, squeezing.

"I've never–" Marcus gasps out. "Ha–have you?"

You shake your head in the negative before he kisses you again.

"I'm gonna make it so good for you," Marcus promises. "Gonna take such good care of you."

You nod and thread your hands through his hair, gripping him softly. You know he will–Marcus always makes you feel good, leaves you a puddle of shaking legs and damp thighs every single time.

Your clothes now removed, Marcus slides his hand up the back of your thigh again, fingers finding your hole and touching much more boldly now, caressing you with purpose.

"Bedroom," he rasps. "Once we start, I'm not gonna be able to stop, so I want to be to where the lube is."

You laugh at Marcus's eagerness and get up from the couch.

"Not funny," he scolds playfully from behind you. "I'm losing my fucking mind, and you're laughing about it."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to get your revenge," you reply lightly as you reach Marcus’s bedroom.

"Oh, I will," he replies darkly. "Gonna fuck this perfect ass so good that all you'll be able to say is my name."

You clench involuntarily at his words. You know it's not posturing, Marcus's dirty talk. It's not empty promises or just his ego speaking. He's a thorough lover, and he'll damn well take away your ability to speak if he has a mind to. He's made you squirt all over the bed, has given you his cock with deep, even strokes until you're panting underneath him, a litany of please, please, please falling from your lips with every devastating thrust.

You scramble onto the bed and lie back on the pillows. Marcus grabs the lube and follows you down, giving you another sweet kiss before moving down your body.

"Gonna make you come while I open you up," Marcus murmurs. "Love seeing you come for me."

He slicks his fingers, then lowers his mouth to your clit, gently lapping at you. You can already tell he's taking his time. He can easily get you there within two minutes if he wants to, but right now he seems content to meander, making you feel incredible before you even start to build to anything.

After a couple of minutes, you feel Marcus's index finger gently start to press inside you as he continues eating you out. He lets out a soft groan of pleasure, seemingly just as overcome as you are at the feel of you gripping just the tip of his finger. He's achingly slow with it, letting you adjust to little shallow thrusts of the first inch or so of his finger before giving you just a little bit more.

"So tight," Marcus murmurs reverently. "Oh, my God, baby, you're so fucking tight."

The instant his finger breeches you, your orgasm starts to build. The dual sensation of his tongue lazily swirling around your clit and his finger in your ass feels more amazing than you'd ever imagined. You gasp and pant on the bed as Marcus’s finger slowly slides to the base.

You let out a whimper when you feel him bottom out, and he whispers a few soothing words. He slowly moves in and out, fucking you gently with one finger to open you up. It only takes a few more thrusts of his finger before you're coming undone around him with a cry of his name.

"Oh, fuck," Marcus answers with a groan. "Oh yeah, that's it."

When you stop shaking around him, you feel the gentle press of a second finger against your entrance. You're loose and pliant from the orgasm, and it slides in more easily than the first.

"Already taking me so well," Marcus praises you softly. "Do you like it?"

As if you didn't just come in less than thirty seconds with a finger in your ass. You know he just wants to hear it, needs to know that you feel good, that he's making you feel good.

"Yes, Marcus," you whisper.

"Good," he says. "I want you to come again."

He curls the two fingers inside of you and lowers his mouth to your clit again. All you can do it whimper and take it as he fucks you open with gentle but insistent thrusts.

You can't explain how the feeling of him inside of you like this is making you come so fast, but in no time at all, you feel the precipice approaching for a second time.

"Marcus," you say brokenly. "Marcus, Marcus, Marcus–"

Just before you fall, Marcus adds a third finger, and the extra fullness makes you cry out loudly as you clench around him.

Marcus swears softly as he feels you clenching around his fingers. Three is a lot, with this man's hands. It borders on overwhelming, but all you want is for him to finally split you open on his cock.

"Please," you start to beg. "Marcus, please."

"Listen to you," Marcus murmurs reverently. "Begging for my cock. I can't believe you're giving me this," he says, shaking his head in disbelief as he slicks his cock generously with lube.

"Want you to have all of me," you admit quietly.

Marcus's face softens, his lips parting, eyebrows turning upwards in awe at your words.

He covers your body with his and gives you a soft kiss. He pulls back and smiles. "Baby," he says softly, "you have all of me, too."

For a few seconds, the two of you just look at each other with twin smiles. Then, Marcus's smile goes crooked with a hint of mischief.

"Turn around," he says, "get on your knees for me."

You obey with your heart in your throat. Despite it all, you're nervous. You know that Marcus would never hurt you, that he's careful and patient and gentle, always cognizant of how you're feeling even when he's lost in his own pleasure. Still, the newness of the act is making your lips tremble slightly as you wait for him to slowly push into your ass.

Marcus’s hand squeezes one cheek again, his thumb lightly pulling you apart and you try not to tremble under the scrutiny, the way you know that he's just looking at you. Finally, you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against you, and you melt into the bed a little with relief.

Marcus pushes the tip an inch inside before pulling out again, teasing you with his cock. He does it again, then a third time, before you whine his name in impatience.

"Don't think I didn't watch that little video you tried to tease me with," Marcus says behind you. "I'm going to take my time with you," he promises. "I'm going to savor this."

You don't know why you're surprised. Marcus is a vicious tease. You think it's because he wants to hear you beg, wants to know how much you want him. He doesn't need to tease you to hear that, you think. You'll tell him how much you want him every minute of every day.

Marcus teases you with the tip of his cock several more times until your hips start to push back against him, seeking more. Only then does he finally sink into your tight entrance.

It's tight, so much tighter than his fingers, but you're so relaxed that Marcus is able to slide right in. You wouldn't want to do this with anyone else, only him; he's patient and loving and always so focused on making you feel good, and this time is no different. The stretch is overwhelming, but it would be wrong to say that it hurts.

You're vaguely aware that you're whimpering into the pillow, drunk on the taboo feeling of Marcus's cock–large and thick and hot–in your ass. You can hear him murmuring "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," to himself over and over as he slides in. You wonder whether it's just as intense for him.

He takes you with shallow little thrusts as he works his way inside–two inches in, one inch back, two more inches… giving it to you bit by bit until he's deeply seated inside of you and his hips are flush with you.

"So fucking good," Marcus mutters. "Baby, you feel amazing."

You grunt into the bed, incapable of forming words.

"Tell me I can move, baby, please," he demands.

"Y-Yeah," you stammer. "You can move."

Even though Marcus is gentle at first, you can still feel every centimeter of his cock dragging back and forth against your walls, bordering on too much and making your breath come out in sharp pants.

Marcus is still whispering soft curses above you, seemingly overwhelmed by the feel of you, amazed that you're giving this to him, letting him have all of you.

You let out a pathetic little whine at the intense feeling of fullness. Marcus is everywhere, taking over your body. Every inch of you is focused on holding yourself together while he fucks you.

"Are you okay?"

You barely register the soft question behind you, the sound of Marcus checking in, making sure you're okay with this. You nod furiously into the pillow.

"More," you croak.

Marcus lets out a filthy moan at your one-word command. His hand squeezes the meat of your ass as he starts pulling you back onto him, fucking you harder and deeper.

"God, you look incredible like this, all split open for me," Marcus rasps. "Jesus Christ, you look amazing, and you're all for me, aren't you?"

You love it when he gets like this–when he loses himself in you, lets himself get carried away, gets a little more possessive, a little bit more feral than he usually allows himself to be.

"Whose ass is this, pretty girl?" Marcus asks, his voice low and gravelly.

"Yours," you gasp. Oh, yes, you love it when he’s like this.

"What's mine?" he asks, and you can hear the impish smile in his voice. You can’t see his face, but you can picture it clear as day–that crooked, playful smile of his paired with dark, intense eyes. His jaw is probably slightly tensed with the effort of holding himself back, but his expression is fond, teasing.

"Everything," you groan on a heavy exhale.

Marcus sucks in a breath–you get the feeling he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Everything?” he asks, his voice far softer than it had been before.

“Everything. Anything. You can have–” you mumble nonsensically as your fingers clench and unclench around the fistfulls of Marcus’s comforter.

Marcus growls in response, and his hips start snapping into you harder. You lose the ability to speak, moaning wordlessly, open-mouthed into the pillow as you take everything he has to give.

“Good,” he says breathlessly. “Show me, then. Come for me again.” His fingers start to circle your clit again. You can’t imagine what you must look like right now, speared on Marcus’s cock and drooling on the bed, hardly in control of your own body. This is what he reduces you to, what he gives to you every single time, and you love it.

Your third orgasm takes some time–the pure sensory overload of the act making it elusive and difficult to pin down–but Marcus is a patient man, slowing down a little and staving off his own end to give you what you need.

When it finally happens, you sob into the bed. You’re so full, but your cunt is still so empty that it throbs and you’re barely aware of your own body as you convulse around Marcus’s cock. You can feel Marcus’s firm grip holding you steady, ensuring you don’t inadvertently hurt yourself as pleasure overtakes you.

“You’re okay,” you hear Marcus murmur soothingly over the pounding of your heart. “I’ve got you.”

You’re starting to ache; you feel as if you’re unable to take much more before you break entirely, but thankfully Marcus follows close behind, spilling inside you with a litany of perfect, oh, so fucking perfect for me.

You’re still whimpering on the bed when Marcus says, “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

At your nod, you feel him leave you–a sensation nearly as overwhelming as the feel of him fucking you, and you gasp again.

“Jesus, honey,” Marcus remarks under his breath. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “It’s just a lot. Holy shit.”

You collapse on the bed with a sigh and Marcus follows you down, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly against his chest. You cling to his forearm where it lays across your chest and breathe. This is an immutable part of sex with Marcus, you’ve found, as unchangeable as the sun rising. He always cuddles you after, holding you tightly, as if you could slip from him at any moment, although you never would–you need his strong arms around you just as much as he needs to feel you tucked against him. Eventually, he’ll get up, probably get a cloth to clean you up with a soft, content smile. The two of you will probably move to the couch and watch a movie, Marcus’s arm around you, absentmindedly stroking your shoulder. For now, though, the two of you simply bask in the afterglow with that soft and gooey-eyed feeling that only comes with sharing something new and incredibly intimate with someone you love.

“Must have been good, though,” Marcus teases as he nuzzles your cheek. “You came so hard for me.”

You giggle softly. “Three times,” you say.

Marcus chuckles too. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Next time, we’re going for four.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal

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callsign-joyride · 11 months

Note

Ok but, Hangman as guy in your neighborhood, you are both back from college, he has a “she grew up hot” moment, and starts “coincidentally” mowing his lawn and washing the car at the same time she walks her dog. Summer fling, maybe 17 on the SOS prompt, really whatever you think works

Honey, Honey | Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: You lose your virginity to Jake after he walks in on you.

Content warnings: SMUT (18+), female masturbation, fingering, protected p in v

Prompt: "Oh no, don't stop on my account. I'm really enjoying the view."

Author's note: I kind of got lost in the sauce while writing and didn't follow the request exactly but I hope that's okay. It still has the same girl next door trope!

This was written for my Summer of Smut writing event. Feel free to send in requests!

You had been looking forward to moving back home after college graduation for months. Going to school in California had been your dream, but you missed the way that Texas felt like home. A few of your friends stayed local after high school, so it was one of the rare moments where you were able to hang out as a group. Your San Diego apartment had been mostly vacated, but you and your roommate had decided to rent it out as an Air BnB for the summer because it was in the heart of the city.

“I think that Seresin boy might be back for a few weeks,” your mom said over dinner.

You dropped your fork on your plate and sighed. Of course she brought him up. He was about a decade older than you, and your mom was never really able to let go of the fact that you had a crush on him when you were little. When he left to join the Navy, you stayed close with his family, occasionally coming over for cookouts or playing with the littles.

“Good for him,” you grumbled out.

The Seresins were having a cookout for Memorial Day Weekend. Your parents were out of town attending a wedding of some friends. You grabbed a hard seltzer from the fridge in the garage before walking over to the neighbors. Mrs. Seresin greeted you and grabbed a lawn chair so that you could sit by the campfire.

“Wow, you really grew up,” Jake said as he plopped into a chair next to you.

“Well, I haven’t really seen you in what, ten, fifteen years? A lot of growing up happened in that time.”

“So, you in college or…?”

“Just graduated from UC San Diego, actually. I wanted to spend the summer at home before shit gets real, so here I am.”

He raised his eyebrows at the mention of San Diego.

“I’m stationed at North Island right now. It’s kind of surprising that we haven’t run into each other.”

“I don’t think it is, though. San Diego is big and I live like ten minutes from campus. So unless you’re bar hopping with a bunch of 20-year-olds, I doubt we would’ve run into each other.”

Jake chuckled in agreement and scooted closer to you. Maybe it was a combination of the summer heat and your drink, or maybe it was just Jake, but you felt a warmth in your stomach. It was almost like he wanted to kiss you, but more guests started arriving and he had to forfeit his seat to help his dad with the grill. You talked to other people in the neighborhood while eating and playing games. You didn’t realize how much you had to drink until almost everyone had left at around midnight.

“Alright, I think I’m gonna head home. Woah,” you said as you stood up and grabbed your empty can.

“Do you need someone to walk you home, honey?” Mrs. Seresin asked.

“I think I’ll be fine. It’s just right next door.”

“Okay. Well, we’re here if you need anything. There’s always someone home so feel free to come by whenever.”

“Thank you.”

Jake opened the gate for you as you left and you mumbled a thank you before heading over to your house. Maybe it was because you were desperately single, but Jake looked just as good as you remembered. Better, actually. You kicked your shoes off by the front door and reached into your bag for your earbuds. One of the network channels was doing a marathon of all of the Marvel movies, so you put that on and lay on the couch.

Jake’s mom talked him into checking in on you when they were done cleaning up the yard. He was only reluctant to go because he was sweaty and tired from being outside for most of the day. What he didn’t expect though, was to walk into your house and hear you moaning. You couldn’t see him because the back of the couch was towards the back door, and you couldn’t hear him because you had your earbuds in.

“Oh my God!” You gasped. Your hand was still in your shorts but you were too busy freaking out about the fact that Jake `had just walked in on you to worry about that.

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account. I’m really enjoying the view,” he said. He stood in front of you and nudged your legs open before taking your hand out of your shorts. His calloused hand replaced your smooth one and you pulled him closer to you before moaning.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said before leaning in for a kiss. It was a clash between tongues and teeth as he got you off and slowed his pace.

“I-I’ve never-,”

“What?”

You sighed as you looked at the cocky smirk on his face.

“Jake, I’m a virgin.”

“Wait, really? How? Look at you. You’re hot.”

“I’ve done other stuff but I’ve never… y’know.”

“Do you want to?”

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks before you looked at your feet.

“With you? Yeah. Why? Is that bad?”

“Bad? Hey, don’t be shy. We can do this but only if you want to.”

“I want to.”

“Alright. Where’s your room?”

You stared at him in confusion.

“You’re not losing your virginity on a couch. At least let me be proper about it.”

You nervously led him up the stairs and to your room. You moved to California pretty much right after graduating highschool, so not much had changed. It still looked like a teenager’s room because you were usually home from college for a week or two at a time. You weren’t particularly embarrassed about it until now, with the lilac colored walls and stuffed animals everywhere.

“Um, I’m not here all the time. Here, let me…”

Jake watched as you cleared the bed of your stuffed animals and throw pillows. He was trying not to laugh. You turned to him and smiled once you lit the cinnamon roll scented candle on your dresser. He sat you on the bed and started to kiss you before laying you down and taking your shorts off. You couldn’t help but grind yourself against him, and both of you groaned at the feeling. A wet spot was starting to form on the crotch of his grey basketball shorts and you could see the outline of his cock.

“I gotta get you ready,” he whispered into your ear as he tugged your panties off and started to finger you. You writhed in his arms as he got you closer to your release, and he slowly pulled his fingers out of you before grabbing his wallet and taking out a condom.

You looked at him with wide eyes once he took his shorts and boxers off. His cock hit his chest and he was huge. You were kind of able to guess, since he was well built and athletic, but you were still intimidated by the size.

“I’ll go slow. Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

You let out a gasp as he started to enter you. He could tell that you were tense with pain, so he leaned down and kissed you while moving one of your legs to rest on his hip. You let out a cry when he was fully inside of you.

“I’m sorry. Are you hurt? Do you want me to stop?”

“I… No, I don’t want you to stop but it hurts a little.”

“That’s normal. Here, let me move you so that you’re on top. You’ll have more control.”

“Okay.”

Jake guided himself into you and put his knees up so that he could help you ride him. With his hands on your hips, you were quickly bouncing on his cock. He knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer with the way you were moaning his name, and you could see it in his eyes. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he pulled your hips down and stilled inside of you. He rolled the two of you over while he was still inside and started to rub your clit while going through the motions of the rest of his orgasm. He grunted in your ear when you came around him and slowly pulled out of you after a few moments.

“Where’s your bathroom? I’m gonna get a towel and clean you up,” he said. You sat up and looked at him as he walked to your bedroom door.

“Right across the hall. Did I bleed?”

“A little, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be right back.”

Jake was gone for a lot longer than you thought he would be. You were somewhat surprised when he finally walked back into your room with two glasses of water and a damp washcloth in his hands. The washcloth was warm, too. He threw the washcloth in your hamper when he was done and climbed in the bed next to you.

“You’re staying the night?” You asked.

“I can leave if you want me to.”

“No, it’s fine. I kind of like this,” you said as you scooted into his arms.

“So, do you plan on staying in San Diego when you get back?”

“Yeah. I have a job lined up and everything. Why?”

“I wanna take you on a date sometime. I know a few good spots.”

“Sure. Wait, how long are you in town for?”

“Another week and a half.”

“We could just go out while we’re both here. Get the first date out of the way, y’know.”

“Your mom would freak if I picked you up, though.”

“Okay, get your head out of the 1950’s. We’re both adults who can drive. It’ll be fine. Plus I’m pretty sure my mom has wanted me to get with you since I transferred to UC San Diego. She’d probably be popping champagne if she found out about all of this, honestly.”

“Well, it’s good to hear that I’ve already got mom’s approval.”

You laughed and grabbed your phone before turning your lamp off. You fell asleep listening to some ocean sounds. When you woke up, Jake was smiling and scrolling through social media. He put his phone down and hugged you before going to make breakfast. He gave you his phone number before leaving. You were a giggly mess as you laid back on the couch and texted your closest friends about the events that had happened the night before.

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