#i had dinner at a friends house and a couple hours later started not feeling well so I’m pretty sure it’s just food poisoning of some sort | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captainfern · 8 months

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MARIGOLD PREQUELLLLLLLLLLLLLL 🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌

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Marigold - Prequel

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - where it all began with you and price, your dad's best friend. oh and the first time you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.9k [hehe] • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], f!masturbation, m!masturbation, unprotected piv, soft!price/gentle!price, oral [f!&m!receiving], PRAISE, breeding kink?, strong language

thank you all for the support on this little series that's also not really a series lol. lots of luv <3

unedited but enjoy anyway lol

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In all seriousness, you had rats to thank for starting you and Price's relationship.

No, seriously.

Rats.

"Honey, you remember my mate John, don't you?" Your dad asked one evening as the two of you settled in for dinner.

You looked up from your plate of food, fork suspended half-way to your mouth.

"Price?" You queried, before sticking the forkful of food in your mouth and chewing thoughtfully as your dad replied with a nod.

"Yeah, Price," your dad said. "He's going to be staying with us for a few days while his house gets bombed."

You blinked, shocked. "...bombed?"

Your dad laughed. "Not actually bombed. Pest-bombed. Over his last deployment, rats got into his cupboards and ripped the place up, so it'll be a week of exterminators and contractors until his house's back to normal."

You put another forkful of your dinner into your mouth.

Price had been your dad's best mate since, like, forever. They had served together in the military, and remained in contact even when your dad retired when you were young. You remember seeing Price a lot when you were younger, but after your dad's retirement, the time they spent together got less and less.

Embarrassingly, you remember the last time you had a good look at him and you realised that, oh my god, he's hot. Not long ago, a year or so maybe, when he popped around for your dad's birthday in between deployments. He was polite to you, and nice, but you couldn't help but stare.

His muscular back, strong shoulders, forearms lined with veins. He was fresh out of a deployment with dishevelled hair and a scruffy beard and you just couldn't help but feel a little warm.

But it was a crush. Something stupid, anyway.

"Why's he staying here?" You asked. "Why not just stay at a hotel or something?"

"I invited him," your dad told you. "It'd be nice for us to catch up, anyway. And it'll be good for him to relax before he has to head back to work."

You accepted that answer. Your dad deserved to spend some time with his old friend, and it wouldn't make sense to challenge that. So, after dinner and once you'd helped your dad with the dishes, you both worked together to set up the guest room.

A couple of hours later, the doorbell rung.

You were lounging on the couch, some trashy reality show echoing around the living room. Your dad got off the couch and headed out into the hall, opening the front door.

You knew who it was going to be, so you weren't surprised hearing your dads excitable chatter as he greeted his old friend and welcomed him into the house. You listened as, after a few minutes, their footsteps drew into the living room, and you made the effort to pause the show you were watching and cast your eyes across the room.

"Say hi to Price, honey." Your dad smiled, gesturing to the man beside him.

You smiled, offering a small wave. "Hi, Price."

Holy fuck.

It had been about a year since you had seen Captain John Price in person and oh my god. He was still attractive. So much so that butterflies began fluttering around in your stomach, and you felt your body growing hot beneath his gaze.

He was still as fit as ever. Military-style fit, too. Strong shoulders and arms, lean torso, strong legs too. Big hands enclosed around the handles of two black duffel bags. He wore a beanie, and his facial hair was, like you remembered, a bit on the messier-side. You wondered whether he'd shave it, or clean it up tomorrow.

Then, he greeted you with your name. A deep voice, all rich and warm like the cigar smoke and cologne he smelt of. Your name on his tongue made your stomach pinch with some kind of giddy nerves. It sounded nice. He smelt nice, too. He looked nice.

Holy fuck.

Did... did you fancy your dad's best friend?

You physically shook your head to yourself as you looked away and your dad led Price upstairs. A stupid crush, that's all. You stared blankly at the TV, not even resuming your show. You just stared at the paused frame of blurred colours, your mind running away from you.

And you didn't know if you'd be able to catch it.

•º•

The next morning, you and your dad were both up early for work. You ate breakfast at the table, scrolling tiredly through your phone like you usually did until the sleepiness left your system.

Your dad was humming to himself in the kitchen, fixing himself a cup of tea and his second lot of toast (the first lot he had burnt).

The stairs creaked in the early morning silence, and both you and your dad looked up as Price appeared in the doorway of the kitchen in– oh my fucking god– no shirt.

He'd trimmed his facial hair, too. It was neat against his cheeks and above his full lips, and you couldn't help but imagine what it'd feel like–

No. Stop it.

He greeted your dad, then looked momentarily surprised to see you sitting at the table. He bid you good morning, then loitered uneasily in the doorway, eyes flicking to your dad.

"Sorry, d'you want me to put on a shirt?" Price chuckled, and your dad laughed back, shaking his head.

"Nah, mate, you're all right. Half the time I'm walking around here with no shirt on anyway, so she won't mind, will you, honey?" Your dad turned to you, and so did Price.

You tried your best to ignore Price, looking directly at your dad.

"I don't care," you said as casually as you could muster. "At least he's not wearing a fluffy pink dressing gown."

Your dad rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Don't make fun of my pyjamas, kid. I got it from Marks and Spencer for about thirty quid."

You shook your head in amusement, sparing a glance at Price as you turned back to your phone. Maybe you shouldn't have, because those stupid butterflies appeared in your stomach again.

You caught a glimpse of his abs, faint but chiselled lines along his abdomen. The brush of hair across his chest, and the happy-trail leading down into the waistband of his flannel pyjamas. His arms were so big too.

Okay, seriously. Stop it.

•º•

You got home from work late that evening, the house dark and curtains open. You did your usual routine, going around the house and pulling the curtains so you could turn on the lights. You paused outside the guest bedroom though, deciding against going in, and instead moving on.

You showered quickly, then moved downstairs. Sometimes, you'd cook dinner for your dad, and that's what you decided to do tonight.

Half way through cooking, ingredients strewn across the kitchen, the front door opened. You were expecting your dad, but when Price walked into the kitchen, you hoped you didn't look too shocked to see him.

"Oh, hi, Price," you greeted. "How's your day been?"

He smiled softly at you. Politely.

"Not bad," he said, sliding into one of the barstools across the kitchen island. "You?"

You shrugged. "Work's shit, but it is what it is."

His smile continued, and he watched you cook for a moment. You were acutely aware of the way his eyes watched you, watched the movement of your hands, the movement of your body around the kitchen, the concentrated expression on your face.

"You like to cook?" He asked you eventually, melodic voice punctuating the borderline unnerving silence.

"I like cooking for my dad," you said. "I mean, I'm no chef, but my dad seems to like it."

Price cocked his head, taking in the range of ingredients that were spread out across the kitchen counter, as well as ingredients splashing along the marble surface.

"You like making a mess, too, by the looks of it." Price said jokingly, gesturing to the various kinds of sauces and baking agents smeared over the countertop.

The sentence was innocent enough, but it made your heart hammer faster for some reason. Maybe it was the smooth baritone of his voice, or the fact Price said it. Either way, the pace of your heart quickened within your ribcage as you bent down to place your creation in the oven.

You stood up once the food was in the oven, brushing your sticky hands across your apron. Price was still looking at you, and he laughed at the state of your apron.

"So messy." He tutted.

Butterflies. Fucking hell.

"It's a new recipe," you said quickly before your body could betray you and render you speechless. "I'm usually not this messy, I promise."

He just hummed curiously at that.

When your dad got home not long later, dinner was ready. You, him and Price sat down for dinner, and your dad was like a growing teenage boy shovelling the food gratefully into his mouth. You wondered how he wasn't burning the roof of his mouth.

"This is great, honey," your dad said through a mouthful of food and you tried not to laugh. "Thanks."

"That's okay," you smiled ruefully. "I'm glad it's at least edible."

Price chimed in. "It's great, sweetheart. You did well."

Sweetheart.

You did well.

"Oh, thanks..." You muttered. Butterflies again.

•º•

The next couple of days were much the same.

The three of you would wake up at relatively the same time, having breakfast together and talking about the day ahead. Then you'd all head off, you and your dad to work, and Price to... well, who knows. Then, you'd get home at the end of the day and, surprisingly energised, you'd cook for your dad and Price.

Price would get home before your dad, by at least an hour. He'd watch you cook, chatting to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. He was attentive when you spoke, or when you yammered on about something that made you excited. He'd listen with a smile, asking you questions about your interest that had you spiralling happily again. You somehow almost burnt your pasta the last time you were telling him about your favourite movie.

Then, your dad would get home and you'd all eat dinner. The conversation was pleasant. But most of the time, you sat silently and listened to Price and your dad talk about the, quote, "good old days". Listening to military stories was also on the agenda. Not that you minded. It was nice seeing your dad happy.

After dinner, you'd do the dishes. Price offered to take over, and you refused. He struck a deal though, your dad helping too, and the three of you made it a military-style regime to wash the dishes and get them away in record speed. You laughed at the goofiness of it all, and how Price ordered your dad around. Your dad would salute and march around the kitchen with a stack of plates in his hands, making you and Price laugh.

But it was nighttime where things differed.

You'd say goodnight to Price and your dad. Sometimes, they were still awake in the living room, or maybe in the kitchen. Other times, they'd retired long before you. Either way, you'd find yourself beneath the covers of your bed, the silence of the night drowning you.

Of the almost four nights Price had stayed, you'd gone to sleep with him on your mind each time. Three of those four nights were all fluffy and cozy and warmth-inducing. Images of him in your head, being so nice to you, being so polite. Such a gentleman. It didn't take long to fall asleep with a content smile on your face.

Tonight was the outlier though.

You'd manage to fend off the nighttime bombardment of butterflies on previous nights. But tonight, they returned with a vengeance. Your stomach was swarming with them at each thought of your dad's best friend. Flipping and swooping with nerves, your body growing hot. But with this warmth came an ache that made you scold yourself.

Stop it.

But you couldn't.

Price's handsome face– glimmering eyes, full lips, neatly trimmed facial hair. His body– the abs, the hair, the muscles. Damn.

You whined softly to yourself, the ache in between your legs intensifying, something pulling tight in the base of your tummy.

You just couldn't help it.

Another quiet whine on your lips, you impatiently shoved your hand beneath your pyjamas. Your middle finger made contact with your clit, puffy and swollen with your arousal, and you sucked in a breath when you began to circle it gently.

The relief was almost immediate, the tight feeling in the base of your stomach drawing tighter. Your body hummed with warmth as you sped up the movement of your circles, pleasure creeping through your veins. You probably didn't even need to fuck yourself. Judging by the way your body was reacting, you were close enough with just the attention to your clit. So, so sensitive.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet, small moans and airy whimpers caught in the base of your throat. Your skin was becoming dewy with sweat, your legs beginning to shake as your finger pressed and drew shapes across your little bundle of nerves.

In your mind, flashing images of Price. Everything about him, physically and not. His voice, his words–

"So messy."

"You did well."

"Sweetheart."

A desperate whimper fell past your lips, your back arching, clit pressing tighter against your finger, hand beginning to ache. Your thighs trembled, heart-rate spiking as the coil in your stomach balled the tightest it had been all night, before it snapped.

"Price." You whispered into the darkness of your room as you came. It hit you hard, too. Sparks floating behind your eyelids, your entire body trembling against the mattress as your cunt spasmed around nothing, your clit pulsing in time with the beating of your heart.

You came down from your high with a wave of embarrassment crashing over you, and you broke the surface of it with a gasp and a frustrated sigh. You kicked off your blankets, burning up, sticky with sweat.

"Fuck..." You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears.

Maybe this wasn't just some stupid crush anymore.

•º•

Price heard you that night.

It was an accident.

He couldn't sleep after hours of pacing his room. So he ducked downstairs, grabbed himself a glass of water, and drank it whilst staring into the darkness. After, he rinsed the glass clean and dried it, putting it back in the cupboard, and then making his way back upstairs.

In his efforts of trying to be quiet, he heard you. Creeping past your room, he paused when he heard the soft creaking of your bed and a soft sigh escape beneath the small gap beneath the door. He cursed himself, initially believing he'd woken you up. But the more he listened, the more his cheeks began to heat up, and his cock began to stir in his pyjama pants.

It was wrong.

But you sounded so fucking pretty. Touching yourself, sighing and whimpering, trying so hard to be quiet. He wondered how you were touching yourself, how fucking wet you were.

His chest tightened in shame. What the hell was he doing? His best friend's daughter of all people?!

But he couldn't move. Not when the mattress shifted, the bed frame creaked, and a few more airy whines flew out of your mouth before you were whimpering his name.

His fucking name.

"Price."

He could've come right then and there.

He held out, gritting his teeth and shuffling silently back down the hall and into his room. He closed the door as quietly as he could and found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his cock out of his pyjamas.

Already painfully hard and sensitive, he fucked it in his fist dry at first. The pre-cum dribbling from his slit made the movements glide after a moment, and he was quick to start moaning under his breath. He'd always been good at remaining silent with these types of things. But with you in his head, your whimpers in his head, he was trying desperately and almost failing to keep quiet.

Price stroked his cock, thinking about you. His best friend's daughter. He felt guilty. Dirty.

But it was no match for the feelings of lust and pleasure. He grit his teeth, trapping a moan between his molars as he circled the tip of his cock, more pre pearling at the slit. He imagined it being your pretty cunt, so wet and tight.

He grunted, tightening his grip, and then had to restrict another warbled groan. His balls tightened, stomach quivering as he came in a sudden hot spurt, coating his fingers and thighs. He jerked himself through it until his tip was flushed an angry red and he was on the verge of overstimulation.

"Christ..." He muttered, looking down at the mess he'd made.

He wanted to make a mess of you.

•º•

You didn't make dinner the next night after work. You were too tired, and you knew your dad would be sympathetic. So instead, you opted to have a nice, long shower. And by long, you meant long. You scrubbed yourself clean of the day's extremities, leaving you to smell really, really good.

It was much later by the time you got out, dressing into your pyjamas. You went downstairs. You'd probably just eat some leftovers, or dig something out of the freezer. Entering the kitchen, you were taken aback to see Price sitting at the kitchen island, arms folded along the marble surface. He looked up as you entered.

"Oh, hey, Price." You greeted, heading for the fridge.

His mouth curled into a small grin. "You can call me John, you know."

"Eh," you opened the fridge, your back to him. "I like Price. John make's you sound old."

"Is that so?" He cocked his head at you, watching you dig through the fridge. "Do I look old?"

You threw him a look over your shoulder. "Not really."

"Not really?" He chuckled.

"Mhm. The beard makes you look older."

He stroked his face while you pulled out some leftover pasta, closing the fridge and placing the container on the counter near the microwave.

"I like it, though." You told him with a smile, and your brain didn't quite register what you said until you were beginning to reheat your pasta.

"You like it?"

Fuck.

Damn it.

"It... suits you, yeah." You said shyly, not making eye contact. Your body was growing warm. It might as well have been you in that microwave by the way your skin was heating.

Silence filled the kitchen until the microwave began to beep. You took out your steaming pasta and dropped it noisily on the countertop.

You could feel his eyes on you, and it made your heart race. But it was racing in a good way. The way he looked at you, the way he made you feel, was something you'd never experienced before.

Slowly, you turned to look at him. He was looking at you, eyes soft and deep and warm and everything you wanted. It was like he was waiting for you to speak– waiting for you to open your mouth and tell him everything you wanted too. It's like he knew.

The butterflies were back.

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, and Price's eyes followed the movement.

"Not making dinner tonight?" He asked you, voice smooth, eyes still on your mouth.

You shook your head. "No... sorry."

"Don't apologise, sweetheart."

You wanted to scream into a pillow or something. Sweetheart? Did he want you to have a fucking heart attack?

"Are you hungry?" You asked.

His eyes flicked up to yours. "Yeah."

You felt guilty. "Did you want me to cook–?"

"No," he said simply. "No, don't worry about that. I don't need food."

You cocked your head and he watched you do so. Confused, you frowned, sucking your bottom lip back into your mouth. Once again, his eyes darted downwards to catch the movement, his eyes flashing.

"Then what do you want?" You asked him, and deep down you already knew. Somehow, you knew what he wanted.

And you wanted it too.

Price got to his feet, casually rounding the kitchen island until he was standing beside you in the kitchen. You turned, your lower back pressed up against the adjacent countertop as he approached you slowly. You craned your neck to look up at him, your heart hurting from how hard it was beating inside you.

"I want you to be honest with me, okay?" He said softly, his voice comforting. "D'you want me to touch you how you touched yourself last night?"

Your entire body was on fire. Every nerve, every blood vessel was blistering hot. Your shame was the gasoline. But your lust was the fucking spark.

You let out a breath, a whine mingling with it. You averted your eyes, looking away. Immediately, a large hand gently took hold of your chin and guided your head back upwards, lightly guiding eye contact.

"It's okay, sweetheart, I promise," he told you in a whisper, the caring look in his eyes soothing the flames within you. "I want you to tell me. I want you to be honest."

For a moment, your lower lip trembled. A mix of embarrassment and arousal was confusing your brain.

You swallowed thickly. "Yes..."

"Yeah? You want me to touch you like you touched yourself? Make you feel good?" He probed, careful not to raise his voice above a whisper. "You want me to take care of you, sweetheart? It's okay, you can tell me."

You nodded. "Yes please."

The hand Price had on your chin moved to cradle the back of your head as he leaned down, his face hovering just above yours. His eyes scanned your features, his other hand moving to hold your waist.

"Can I kiss you?" Price asked, the words brushing over your own lips.

"Yeah..." You whispered, breathless from your impatience.

He smiled, then kissed you. It was so gentle and warm and everything you'd thought about the night before. It wasn't rushed or rough in anyway. He was taking his time– smoothing his lips against yours, cradling your head, slipping his tongue along the seam of your lips. You opened for him, your tongue meeting his, the kiss deepening.

He pressed you further into the countertop and you arched, chest meshing with his. His tongue was solid against yours, and you whined into his mouth, your hands moving to clasp the back of his head, fingers delving into his soft hair.

The hand on your hip pulled your pelvis flush with his. You groaned when you felt him hardening against your lower stomach, and Price pulled out of the kiss with a light squeeze to the back of your head.

"Feel that, sweetheart?" He said breathlessly, leaning himself heavier against you. "Feel how much I want you."

He took your hand in his, letting go of your head. He guided your hand between your bodies, and you took initiative in pressing your palm flat to the front of his jeans. He groaned, head flopping forward to rest on your shoulder. You palmed the solid imprint of his cock, your core throbbing at the muffled grunts eliciting from his throat.

"Price...?" You whispered, and he groaned again.

"Fuck... yeah?"

"I want you."

He groaned for the third time, low and breathy, before he pulled away from you. He grasped your hand, before dragging you out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. You giggled, giddy with excitement, as he led you upstairs.

"Your room or mine?" Price asked, bending down to kiss you again.

You pulled away, and he proceeded to kiss a wet trail down the bare expanse of your neck. "Mine..." You said, backing towards your room and urging him inside.

He closed the door behind you as you flopped onto your bed. You grinned when he followed you, crawling over top of your body and slotting himself against you, kissing you again. He licked into your mouth as you tugged and pulled at his hair.

A minute later, Price was crawling back down your body until he rested between your legs. He took hold of your pyjama pants and pulled them down, discarding them, while you threw your t-shirt off. You unclipped your bra and tossed it across the room when Price hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.

He looked up at you. "Is this okay?"

"This is perfect, Price."

He took a deep breath as he pulled your underwear down your legs, so slowly you thought about kicking him. But you didn't. His eyes were transfixed on your core, his mouth agape.

"Christ," he muttered, flinging your underwear away. He ran two fingers slowly up your slit, collecting your arousal, before drawing them into his mouth. He moaned around his fingers. "S'fucking perfect."

You whined as he tucked himself between your legs, his breath fanning over your glistening core.

"Watch me, sweetheart." He told you as he languidly licked a stripe up your slit, before latching his lips around your clit.

Your eyes rolled, but his words forced you to maintain eye contact. You watched his lower face disappear between your legs, his eyes hooded and locked onto yours as he ate you out.

He circled your clit with his tongue, his top teeth brushing lightly against the nerves. Your body jolted, a moan falling out of your mouth, before his tongue was laving over you once more. He then dragged his tongue in a zig-zag motion downwards until he circled your cunt. You whimpered loudly when he pushed his tongue inside you.

He grunted with each movement of his tongue, eyelids threatening to close each time more of your arousal trickled into the back of his throat. Your thighs were warm around his head, squishy against his ears. He couldn't help but grab a fistful of the flesh in his hands, kneading contently as he fucked his tongue into you.

You were on cloud-nine. His tongue was warm and solid inside you, your stomach fluttering with a build-up of pleasure. You reached a hand down, the other balled in your sheets, and grasped his hair, still maintaining eye contact. You moaned, the sound making Price groan into your cunt.

"P-Price, sir, m'gonna come." You told him desperately as your impending climax began warming your body, thighs growing tighter around his head.

The word sir made Price moan into your cunt and redouble his efforts, fucking his tongue into you at a renewed pace that made you sob out his name in pleasure. Your thighs shook against his head, your cunt fluttering around his tongue, arousal dribbling down the sides of his chin.

He was throbbing in his trousers, your noises and taste building his own arousal. His cock twitched painfully in the confines of his boxers and when you came, he almost came with you. Almost.

You came with a whiny "Price", pushing his head further into you. He licked you through it, dragging his tongue out of you once your hole stopped spasming, suctioning your swollen clit back into his mouth. You whimpered curses, pulling at his hair. He conceded, and detached his mouth.

"Feel good, sweetheart?" Price asked, kissing up your body as he crawled back over top of you.

You hummed your agreement, still fizzling down from your high.

After kissing along your breasts, Price slotted his mouth back to yours. You moaned when you tasted yourself on him, his face sticky against yours.

When he pulled back, his pupils were blown. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl."

"Want you." You whimpered, and he kissed you again.

He then stripped himself, discarding his clothes on your floor. When he removed his boxers, you tossed your head back and groaned. His hard cock bobbed up against his abdomen. A slight curve, a prominent vein along the underside, leading to a ruddy tip already leaking pre. You took hold of it, feeling the soft, velvety ridges against your palm.

Price hissed. "Sweetheart–"

"Can I use my mouth?" You asked, slowly starting to stroke his cock.

He groaned, head dropping back as if the words you said struck him across the face. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, really thinking hard, as his eyes dropped down to yours.

"You don't have t–"

"I want too," you smiled, before you were pushing him off of you and slipping off the bed.

He watched you patiently, situating himself on the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. He parted his legs, allowing you to settle between them. You took hold of his cock again, and his hips twitched, a sound like a whimper being whispered from the depths of his throat.

Price looked down at you, stroking your hair as you worked your hand up and down his length. His eyelids drooped when your fingers neared his tip, and when you worked them around the underside, he whispered your name in a pleasured sigh.

He continued stroking your head and face. "Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart? You don't h–"

You shut him up by leaning forward and licking a stripe up his cock. He choked on his sentence, hand resting gently on the crown of your head as you licked him from base to tip. You kept one hand around the base of him, pumping as you worked your tongue up the vein on the underside of his cock.

He hummed a moan, something vibrating deep in his chest, primal almost, as he watched you. His eyelids had dropped, his pupils stretched wide, hips twitching each time your tongue skimmed the base of his tip. He was fucking leaking, now, and you wasted no time in cleaning him up.

Retaining eye contact, you wrapped your mouth around the tip and he moaned. A pretty, desperate sound that made your wet core flutter around nothing. You sunk deeper and deeper, taking more of him, until your mouth was stretched wide, your lips pressing against the side of your hand where you squeezed him. Price moaned again, head of his cock nudging the back of your throat. You gagged, pulling up slightly, and he let out a deep grunt.

"Easy, sweetheart, s'alright..." Price dragged out, hand warm on the top of your head.

Saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth in strings, smearing down his length as you brought your head up. You circled your tongue around his head again, swiping against the slit and making his hips buck. You withheld a smile and took him deeper again. You repeated this action a few times, until Price had left that tentative, almost nervous view behind him.

Now, he had a firm but guiding hold on the back of your head, groaning and panting as you sucked his cock. He urged you gently to take more of him, and you eventually removed your hand so more of him slid down your throat. You gagged, and he groaned and pulled back slightly, before repeating the action again anyway.

A hand to your head, he pulled your head all the way back until your lips wrapped around his tip. You looked him in the eyes, tears along your waterline, before he was pushing you back down.

"Yeah, that's my girl," He groaned as you took him all the way to the base. "Fuck, that's my girl. My good girl, baby, fuck."

You whimpered around his cock, the praise making your stomach flip and your cunt ache. Your arousal was physically dripping down the curve of your thighs, and you shivered.

Suddenly, his hips began twitching and his mouth dropped open, a breathless moan filtering out. He grabbed hold of the back of your neck and slowly pulled you away from his cock.

"I need you, sweetheart, come on." Price whispered when you whined, your mouth detaching from his cock with a wet pop.

You wiped the saliva away from your mouth with the back of your hand. "But–"

Price urged you to your feet, pushing you back onto the bed and flattening you against the mattress with his frame. You smiled at his desperation, feeling his wet cock against your inner thigh as he spread your legs with a squeeze to the backs of your knees.

He leaned down and kissed you. "I– fuck– I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Let me inside you. Please."

You'd never thought he'd be the type to beg. Holy shit.

You giggled nervously, kissing him again. Price groaned into your mouth, one large hand coming to hold the side of your face, caressing it gently. He then grabbed his cock near the base and guided it to your dripping cunt. He ran the tip up and down your folds a few times, making you mewl into his mouth, before tapping the head against your slick hole.

He broke the kiss, panting. "Oh fuck, I don't have a con–"

"Birth control," you said quickly, body writhing beneath his. "Please, just–"

His brows pinched together in light concern. "Okay, okay, but you need to stop me if I you–."

You were begging now. Desperate for him. "I'm okay, Price. Please, sir, just please–"

With a low grunt, Price pushed in slowly, the tip of his cock stretching you open. You moaned loudly, nails dragging down his muscled back as he slid more and more inside you, inch by inch. He groaned, caging your head between his arms, his eyes locked on your face, searching for any sign of hesitance. But he only found pleasure as your mouth dropped open and your eyelids flitted.

You were so tight around him, warm and wet. He closed his eyes for just a second. He was focussing on not coming straight away.

You mewled loudly when the tip of his cock nudged your cervix, his hips flush with yours. Your nails scraped down his back, and he grunted, dipping down to kiss you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, all tongue and no direction. He didn't move his hips, and the feeling of him inside you, warm and heavy, made you break the kiss with a moan.

"Price, oh my god." You breathed against his lips, hole clenching around his girth.

He groaned. "I know, sweetheart, I know."

You whimpered when his hips shifted, pelvis grinding against you. He paused, moving his head back to look at you.

"You okay?"

You nodded, humming your approval. "Mhm– yes, m'good, Price. Mmm feels so good– please don't stop, please–"

Gently, he pulled out until his tip was just barely inside you, his length and the hair at the base glistened with your arousal. Then, he was thrusting back into you, making you moan his name again.

"Fuck, that's it, good girl, sweetheart," he murmured, sucking a kiss to your jaw. "There you go, just take it... taking it so well, sweetheart."

You moaned, arching your back. The sounds of his thrusts were wet and loud in the silence of your room, accompanied by the slapping of skin and your mewls of pleasure.

"Feels like you were just made for me," Price whispered, cock bullying the plug of your womb, making your eyes roll. "Mhm... this pretty cunt was just made for my cock."

"Sir..." You dragged out through a moan, hands flailing to keep you grounded, dragging up and down the plains of his back. You wanted to say something else. It began slipping out of your mouth, "Cap–" before you stopped yourself.

Price groaned, slamming into you harder. "Yeah that's right, pretty girl. Call me captain, baby. S'your captain making you feel so good, yeah? S'your captain filling this tight cunt."

You moaned loudly. You hoped your neighbours weren't home. Your nails dug into his back as tight pleasure built up in the base of your abdomen. Your thighs were quivering, your entire body being consumed by him.

Price, Price, Price.

He slammed into you again and again, drawing more sounds from you. His body was warm over yours, solid and comforting and you almost wanted to sob. You felt so good. He was making you feel so good. Your dad's best friend. Fuck.

You couldn't help but whimper at that thought, your clit pulsing, sitting shiny and puffy. And it's like Price knew– he always seemed to know what you wanted. Still fucking you steadily, he reached downwards, dragging his hand down your body. The rough pad of his middle finger found your swollen clit, and you keened, sobbing out a moan as he applied pressure.

"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" He asked in a whisper, pressing tight circles as his hips worked his cock into you. "Is this what you needed? Wanted me to play with this pretty clit, is that it?"

Your eyes rolled, his words turning your brain to mush. "Y-yeah," you stuttered, tummy drawing up tighter, legs quivering faster against the mattress. "F-feels... g..."

You sentence was lost as his cock hit that spot inside you over and over again, making your blood pump hot and the base of your belly flood with a burning kind of pleasure that had tears falling from your eyes.

Price kissed your tears away as you moaned, arching your back, your tits pressing up against his chest.

"Captain, please–" you choked on a pleasured sob. "M'gonna–"

"S'alright, sweetheart, come for me," Price said softly, kissing a tear from your cheek. "Good girl. Come for me."

He shifted his head and kissed you deeply when you came. Your tongues pressing together as you trembled against him, cunt squeezing his cock. Your release made your body burn up, and you felt it drip hot and wet out of you, dribbling around the sides of his cock. You moaned his name into his mouth, and he swallowed it whole, continuing to rut into you.

"Good girl, good girl..." Price muttered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

He moved his hand away from your clit, back up to the side of your head.

He released your lip when he groaned. "Fuck, m'not gonna last, sweetheart."

Dazed, you pressed your mouth to his again. It was sloppy and wet, uncoordinated through your post-orgasmic haze. He grunted against your tongue, thrusts losing rhythm as he neared his peak.

"Come for me, sir, please." You whispered into his mouth, and that sent him over the edge.

He groaned your name into your mouth, coming deep inside you. The warmth that filled you made you keen, and Price kept thrusting, panting with his lips brushing yours.

"Fuck, baby, fuck..." He whined, finally stilling inside you, plugging you full of him.

After a long moment of basking in each other's heat, he pulled out. You mewled as he sat on his ankles, watching his cum leak out of your dripping core. He gathered the mix on two fingers, shoving it back inside you with a satisfied grunt.

"So messy..."

•º•

Price cleaned you, applying a warm, damp cloth between your legs. He dressed you, too. While you were still laying down, he pulled your clothes back onto you– minus your bra, which you didn't want back on as that would've involved you actually sitting up– then he tucked you beneath the covers.

He placed a kiss to your forehead, before he ducked into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. When he returned to you, he put his clothes back on, and then leaned over to kiss you on the forehead again.

"You still hungry?" He asked, cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

You shook your head. "No... m'gonna sleep for a bit."

He smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before leaving your room, closing the door behind him. He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, your pasta sitting cold on the countertop. He tossed it back into the microwave and heated it up again. When he pulled it out, steam curling upwards, the front door opened.

Price felt a pang of guilt in the depths of his stomach, just briefly, before his mind was flooded with images of you, and he was desperately trying not to get hard again.

Your dad walked into the kitchen, dumping his work gear near the dining table.

"Hey, mate," your dad said with a smile. "Good day?"

Price couldn't help but smile, disguising it by stabbing a fork into the past and bringing it towards his mouth. "Yeah, mate, really good. You?"

Your dad continued on about his day, telling Price animatedly about his activities at work. Once he'd concluded his story, he looked around pointedly. "Where's our chef?"

Price laughed. "No chef today, mate. She's in bed."

"Oh, strange. Rough day at work, probably," your dad said. "She's a good girl, you know. I'm really proud of her."

Price smiled. He couldn't help but agree.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

was this ok? idek lol

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #captain john price #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #captain price #captain price smut #captain john price x you #captain price x reader #cod smut #cod price #price smut #price call of duty #cod mwii #captain'snirvana

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zanarkandskylines · 11 days

Text

⭑˚. ⇢ you make a gift for katsuki's 18th birthday.

-`☆ day one of the explosive birthday celebration ! ☆´-

It's the week of Bakugo's 18th birthday - you and all of class A have plenty of plans arranged to make it special for him! You know he's going to feign ignorance, like he doesn't care about all of the love and support, but deep down is a sucker for it. Midoriya and Kirishima had all of the party supplies ready to go, stored secretly in their dorm rooms. Sato bought all the ingredients he'd need to make snacks and a cake for the party while the girls stashed away a bunch of party favors, splitting up everything between their rooms. Everyone was ready to celebrate their favorite explosive hero!

There's was just one thing left for you to do - find him a present.

What exactly did Bakugo want? He never vocalized desiring anything material in nature, not even All Might memorabilia. Getting him a gift card felt a little flat for such a milestone birthday, you wanted him to feel appreciated. With everything the class has gone through in the last three years, especially him and Midoriya, he deserved to be spoiled and shown how important he is to everyone.

In your mind, you went through the things Bakugo liked: hiking, cooking, All Might, spicy foods...maybe novels? You'd heard from Midoriya that he loves to read, but you didn't press him on what exactly his favorite genre was. Scribbling a bunch of ideas into a notebook, you brainstormed for awhile before the perfect inspiration struck - you can make him something!

Immediately, you call Midoriya to run your idea by him.

"Hey! What's up?" he answers cheerfully.

"Hi Izuku! I'm prepping a present for Katsuki's birthday and wanted to get your input. You got a few minutes?"

"Of course! What did you have in mind?" Midoriya seemed pleased that you chose him to help with your little creation for his best friend.

"Here's what I'm thinking..."

───

Later in the day, you return from the craft store with Midoriya, a couple of bags in hand with supplies for your gift. He helps you carry everything back to your dorm room and unloads it all onto your desk.

"Do you want any help making the book?" he offers.

"I think I'll be alright, but if you could get that recipe from Shoto, that would be a huge help!" You dump the supplies out onto your desk, spreading everything out neatly to begin working.

"Sure! I'll go ask him for it now. I'll be back soon!"

Midoriya exits your room quietly as you take a seat at your desk, prepping to start working on Bakugo's present. It wasn't anything fancy or flashy, but thought the sentiment was worth more than any lame gift card. You'd decided to make him a custom recipe booklet! It would be blank, with the exception of one recipe, for him to fill in as time goes on. You know how much he loves to cook and thought it would be handy to keep his favorite meals in one place. The first recipe would be a surprise - Fuyumi's mapo tofu recipe. Bakugo wouldn't shut up about it for weeks after going to Todoroki's house for dinner back in their first year. He more than likely had it, but having it be the first in the book sounds like a decent surprise.

A few hours and paper cuts later, you've crafted a cute little recipe booklet, bound with black rings and packed with subtly decorated pages. You chose not to theme the entire thing, more so just adding in areas for him to fill in instructions, ingredients and cooking time to the pages for reference. The cover was a burnt orange with a blank label on the front, plastered with a bunch of bright stickers of various styles - smiley faces, leaves, stars, food and other accenting themes. You didn't want to assume what Bakugo would want to label it, so you left it blank with some letter sticker sheets inside the cover. The rings are able to be opened, that way he can add additional pages in the future and expand the collection.

Your phone buzzes on the corner of your desk, a text notification from Midoriya appearing on screen.

[Izuku] stopping by with the recipe! [You] great! doors open, just come in when you're here

Midoriya knocks on your door a few minutes later, slipping inside your room and waltzing over to your desk. He looks down at the book you've crafted, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Awww! This is so cool, he's going to absolutely love this. Don't be offended if he doesn't say it though," he jokes, shaking his head with a smile on his face. "You know he's still not great at expressing that kinda thing."

He hands you the recipe on a piece of paper. "Here, I wrote it down for you. Fuyumi's ecstatic you asked for it!"

"Thank you!" you gleam, studying the page's contents. "This'll work perfectly."

Midoriya leaves you to finish your present in peace. You copy over the recipe information onto the first page, organizing it neatly by the sections you created. It's finally finished! At least, that's what you thought until one last detail popped into your head.

Grabbing a black marker, you add in a short and sweet message to the inside cover of the book: "Happy 18th birthday Kats! Looking forward to years of your cooking. - ♡ (Y/N)"

Your heart flutters in your chest as you stare at the words, hoping he'll smile seeing it anytime he opens his recipe book. You grab the muted orange wrapping paper and neatly fold and tuck the book into it, tying it together with a black bow.

Waiting until the end of the week to see his reaction is going to be torture, but worth the wait to see him smile.

extremely flattered to be included in kae's bakugo birthday celebration series! be sure to check out each story this week leading up to his birthday on 4/20 ♡

⇢ master post

-`☆ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ: Coming April 14th - @zanarkandskylines

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴏ: Coming April 15th - @xbabyd0lli3x

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: Coming April 16th - @angels-fantasy

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Coming April 17th - @starieq

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: Coming April 18th - @lowkeyremi

ᴅᴀʏ ꜱɪx: Coming April 19th - @queenpiranhadon

ᴅᴀʏ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ: Coming April 20th - @cashmoneyyysstuff

((inspo for the recipe book! it would obvi not be as aesthetic when he'd use it lol but it would have a little decorative templates for him to fill in)) 💥🎁 tags; @gina239 - @mystic60 - @meowze4r - @icedemon1314 - @bigsimpo343 - @ah-mya - @whezdostuff - @berry-vioo - @seonne - @slayfics

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader fluff #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x y/n #katsuki x reader #bakugo drabble #bakugo imagine #☆.rei writes

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zehakoo · 2 years

Text

sugar | myg

pairings » ceo!yoongi x f. reader

genre » strangers to lovers, neighbours au, fluff, smut

summary » desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.

warnings » drinking, swearing, kissing, pool party, cold yoongi, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, foreplay, blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, making out, some nipple play, begging, praise kink, orgasm control, hair grabbing, penetration, teasing, just yoongi being hot

word count » 11k

a/n » some italics part indicate past dialogues and some indicate personal thoughts.

You had just finished placing the last few boxes in your new apartment with the help of your friend, Hoseok.

“Thank you so much Hobi! I don't think I could've done this without you.” You said, smiling at him.

“Are you crazy Y/N? Don't thank me, what are friends for?” He retorted, being offended by the fact that you thought he wouldn’t have helped you, whether you asked him to or not.

“No it’s just that you’ve been busy and I didn't want to bother you. I'd feel horrible knowing you can’t rest the one day you’re free just because of me.” You explained, feeling a bit guilty.

“Hey, it’s all cool. I'm glad you finally found yourself an apartment though, it's nice here.” He replied, looking around the place as you can see how satisfied he was with the amount of sunlight approaching the room.

“Indeed it is.” You nodded, agreeing with him.

It finally feels like home, your home.

“Better treat me to a nice dinner later missy.” He joked making you chuckle.

“Of course mister. After I set up the apartment properly that is.” You joked back.

“Do you need help with setting anything up? You know I can always jus—“

You sighed before walking up to him and intertwining your hands with his.

”Hobi, I'm fine. I want to do this all on my own now. I really appreciate your help though, you’ve been nothing but a hardworking and supportive best friend. Thank you so much for always being there for me, I love you.” You blurted out.

“Now, should I take that as you officially confessing your love for me Y/N?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “As friends Hoseok, but seriously, thank you so much for everything.”

“Of course, anytime, I’m just a call away you know.” He said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a hug.

You hummed, instantly giving into his warm body with your head resting on his chest. Both of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes until the sudden ringing of a phone made you two pull apart. Hoseok fetched his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans and widened his eyes looking at the caller ID.

“Shit! I need to go Y/N. Sorry, I forgot I had to meet mom today.”

“It's fine Hobi, thanks once again and tell your mom I said ‘hi’.” You replied, leading him to the door.

“Will do.” He asserted, opening the door to walk out.

“By the way my friend lives in that apartment. If you need anything you can ask him, I'll let him know about you.” He said, pointing at a door across the hallway to which you nodded.

“Alright thanks Hobi, bye!” You beamed.

“Bye Y/N,” and with that he left. You went back inside, closed the door and leaned your back on it. You admired your apartment space and tried to figure out where to start setting up from.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

After 10 long hours, you finally sat down on the sofa you had just finished arranging.

“My head hurts now.” You whined.

Knowing exactly what you need to ease it down, you made your way towards the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. However, you realized that your plan of getting groceries today didn’t work out and you didn’t have any sugar left in the house.

A sudden thought of calling Hoseok to bring you some came to your mind but you quickly dismissed it knowing it’s 10pm. You didn’t want to bother him anymore. That's when your mind clicked, recalling Hoseok's words before he left.

His friend.

For a good 7 minutes, you debated on whether you should knock and ask for some sugar or not before finally concluding your decision. You definitely need a cup of coffee or your headache will get even worse and you know you won’t move a single inch to finish setting up the left bit of the apartment.

“Fuck it!” You mumbled and quickly slid a purple hoodie over your tank top before leaving your apartment.

Standing in front of a door similar to yours, you took a deep breath before knocking on it. You don’t even know why you’re so nervous, he’s Hoseok's friend and your neighbor. Neighbours help each other right?

Not getting any response back the first time, you knocked again. Still not getting any response, you decided to leave but the door suddenly opened. You stood there in shock, seeing such a handsome man standing by the door. He was wearing an oversized white shirt over black track pants with a white towel wrapped around his neck. It looked like he just came out of the shower and was trying to dry his wet locks.

“Yes?” He questioned in a deep voice, staring straight into your soul.

“Umm hey, I don’t know if he told you yet but I’m Hoseok's friend that moved in. I ran out of sugar and I needed it this instant, so is it okay if I can borrow some? I’ll make sure to give you bac—“

Thud.

What the fuck. Did he just slam the door on your face? What does he think of himself? Of course you just had to encounter another person with good looks but a shitty personality. You never knew Hobi had such a rude friend. You scoffed and started walking back to your apartment but suddenly heard the door behind you click open again.

“Where are you going?”

You immediately turn around only to spot Hoseok's friend standing, peeking out his door.

“I thought yo—“ before you could complete your sentence you saw him walking towards you.

“Take the whole pack, I'm not wasting time taking out only a bit.” He stated, handing over a whole 2kg bag of sugar.

“Oh I don’t need that mu—“

“Just take it. Pay me a quarter back later.” He retorted, pushing it further to you as you took it.

Guess he’s not that bad, just a man with a cold personality.

“Uh okay, thanks—“ before you could even ask for his name or say anything, he was already walking back to his place. You watched him stop in-front of his doorway and reach his hand out to twist the door knob, before briefly glancing at you.

“It’s nice finally meeting you Y/N, I'm Yoongi.”

Thud.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

It's been two days since you moved in and had that encounter with Yoongi. You remember ranting to Hoseok about it yesterday which only led him to erupt into laughter.

“He’s just like that Y/N, at least he gave you some sugar. He was probably tired from work so don't think too much. Yoongi doesn’t talk much but he’s nice.”

Although he has good looks you wish to never face him again, but here you are. Hoseok’s words ringing in your head as you once again find yourself standing in front of his door. Before you could even knock, the door opened itself revealing Yoongi. You can see that he was also in the same shock as you. I mean why wouldn’t he be? He definitely wouldn’t have expected you out of everyone to be standing by his doorway, first thing on a Monday morning.

“Good morning! I just wanted to return your pack of sugar and pay for it, here’s the money.” You said, extending the quarter and the pack of sugar to him.

“Oh, thanks.”

Your eyes then finally travelled down to his outfit. He was wearing a black blazer with a white shirt underneath, neatly tucked into his black dress pants as one of his hands carried a pair of shades. You looked back up and noticed how his hair was neatly parted through the middle.

Fuck he looks hot.

One thing about Hoseok, that man has some really good looking fucking friends. You’ve met three of them before Yoongi. If you may recall, the three being Jimin, Namjoon and Seokjin. You don’t think you have ever seen a friend group consisting of such good looking people, to be honest. He hasn’t introduced you to the other two yet but you’re sure they’re probably hella fine as well.

“Do you need anything else?” You didn’t realize that you had been staring at him so his voice slightly made you flinch.

“Huh? Uh no sorry i’ll take my leave now, thank you once again.” You smiled to which he nodded, and you left.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

“Mom you didn’t have to, you know?” You said to your mom as the two of you were in the elevator, going up to your apartment.

“Don’t be ridiculous Y/N. My daughter bought her own apartment with her own money for the first time and you think I wouldn’t come visit?” She retorted.

“I don’t mean it like that, it’s a 2 hour drive away and dad is sick.“

“Your dad is fine now and just recently started going back to work, don’t worry too much.” She assured, as the both of you had walked out the elevator and made it in front of your apartment door.

“Alright, I'm sure he didn’t come since he would be busy catching up with work so I’ll go meet him at the company sometime this week.” You said, opening the door with your keys.

“Of course, he’ll be so happy to see you.” She beamed.

When the two of you stepped foot inside, your mom began scanning the whole place. Going through the whole apartment, she kept the same look until the two of you had sat down on the sofa.

“Oh my god Y/N, it’s beautiful, I love it!” She exclaimed, making you chuckle.

“I’m glad you liked it, I worked hard on arranging everything nicely with the help of Yoora of course.”

“It looks wonderful! I'm so proud of you and speaking of Yoora, how is she and Hoseok?” Your mom asked, holding your hands.

“Yoora and Hoseok are both fine, just busy these days. They sent their greetings to you though,” you replied.

“Make sure to send my greetings back, tell them that I miss them and am very thankful that you have friends like them.”

“That would definitely boost their ego but will do,” you said, making the two of you laugh.

You spent almost 4 hours talking to your mom and even facetimed Hoseok and Yoora in the middle. The two complained about how busy they were with work while you were lucky enough to have 2 weeks off. The three of you have been best friends since you were 5 so all your parents loved the three of you like their own children. Your mom and the two had the time of their life talking to each other after so long. It was almost around 8pm when you heard knocking on your door. Who would it be at this time? You wondered.

“You had someone coming over?” Your mom asked.

“No but I think the parcel I ordered came in. Let me go check,” you answered as she nodded.

You got up and walked towards the door. Once you opened it, you were greeted by the sight of a huge brown box and a man dressed in a simple black hoodie and jeans. His hair was fluffy too. Very boyfriend material of him but he wasn’t a delivery man—

“Yoongi?”

“Uh hey, you actually had this box outside your door this afternoon and you weren’t home so I took it to my place in case someone takes it.” He nervously explained.

Cute.

“Oh my god, thank you so much!” You exclaimed.

“It’s a bit heavy, let me help you carry it inside.” He insisted, seeing you struggling to get the box in.

“Oh thanks, I'm so sorry you had to carry it to your place.” You apologized thinking of how he might’ve struggled to carry your huge and heavy parcel to his apartment. Hoseok was right, he is nice.

“Right here is fine Yoongi, thank you once again,” you said, finally placing the box down.

“It’s fin-“

“Oh my, who might this young man be?” You heard your mom ask.

Oh shit, you completely forgot she was here.

“He’s just my neighbour, don’t assume anything mom.” You declared before she could say anything more.

“You know you don’t have to hide anything from me right?” She smiled as you saw how Yoongi's eyes widened, understanding what she meant.

“Mom. I’m not hiding anything, he lives across the hallway we met just a couple days ago.”

“Well then invite this handsome neighbour of yours for dinner at least.”

“Mom!” You whined showing her exactly how embarrassed and mad you are.

“It’s nice to meet you ma'am and thank you for your invite but I’m afraid I can’t accept it as I have other plans and need to leave sorry.”

That was so formal, he sounded so nice.

“Oh I see, such a respectful man. Please come next time when you’re free, I'm sure Y/N can cook you some delicious food.”

“Uh of course ma'am, have a goodnight, I’ll take my leave now.” Yoongi stated before locking eyes with you and walking out the door.

As soon as you heard the door shut, you immediately locked it and rushed towards your mom to rant about what just happened and how embarrassing it was.

“We should go eat Y/N,” your mom said, having enough of you rambling on and on.

You sighed, “you’re right. I'm very hungry, let's go eat!”

You were now walking back to your apartment after dropping off your mom by the car your dad had sent for her to go back from. She left a little while after having dinner and made sure to convince you to befriend Yoongi and possibly start dating him.

There’s no way you would. You two don’t even know each other and he’s too rude sometimes.

Speaking of Yoongi, you need to apologize to him about your mom. You know there’s no way you’d face him after the embarrassing situation that occurred so you texted him instead. Surprisingly he texted back in just a few minutes.

[y/n] 9:38pm: Hey, this is y/n

[y/n] 9:39pm: I just wanted to apologize for how my mom reacted. I’m so sorry, she’s just like that, I hope you understand and forget whatever happened.

[yoongi] 9:43pm: it’s okay, I already forgot

[yoongi] 9:43pm: but how did you get my number?

[y/n] 9:43pm: from hoseok

[yoongi] 9:45pm: alright, well I gtg

[y/n] 9:46pm: oh ok bye goodnight

[yoongi] 9:46pm: gn

dry texter but whatever, now that that’s cleared, you can peacefully sleep.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

“Yoora, I’m on my way to meet dad right now, I’ll call you later okay.” You said, eyes focused on the road ahead of you.

“You better call though, I have some important news to share.”

“Okay okay don’t worry, I will. I need to know your tea anyways.”

You heard her chuckle, “trust me you would love it.”

“On second thoughts, tell me now.” You retorted, getting excited about the ‘important news’ she wanted to share.

“Nope, call me later bye!”

“Yoora no!” You yelled but she hung up already.

You wondered what happened in the span of 3 days that got her so excited. The last time you talked was when your mom was here. She was completely fine and normal so something big definitely happened. Thinking about Yoora and her important news, you didn’t even realize that you already reached your dad's company.

Parking the car and walking inside the tall glass building, you were greeted by the two beautiful receptionists who immediately recognized you as the chairman’s daughter.

“Hey, is dad free?” You asked the receptionist at the front desk.

“He’s in his office Miss Y/N, but I’ll call him and let him know you’re here.” She responded.

“Uh no! I actually wanted to surprise him so there is no need to inform him. I’ll just go.” You protested.

“Alright but he has someone over right now.”

“It's okay, I'll just wait outside his office till he’s done.” You said.

“As you wish Miss Y/N.” She respectfully bowed.

You returned it and walked towards your dad's office being all excited to meet him and ready to scold him for getting sick. Once you reached the hallway to your dad’s office, you were surprised to see a familiar figure and someone you thought you would never meet here of all places.

“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” You questioned as you walked up to him.

“Y/N?” He raised a brow turning towards you.

“You two know each other?” Your dad beamed in.

“Dad!” You exclaimed and jumped into his arms.

“Hey sweetheart, how are you?” He asked.

“I'm all good, how are you now?”

“Much better, especially now that you're here.” He replied, ruffling your hair as the two of you chuckled.

“Anyways back to my question, you two know each other?” Your dad asked once again.

“We’re neighbours.” Yoongi and you retorted at the same time.

“Dad, how do you know him and why are you here Yoongi?” You questioned both of them.

“He’s the CEO of Min Productions, we just finalized a deal and collaboration.” Your dad proudly announced.

You were beyond shocked. Yoongi, Min Yoongi, your neighbour, Hoseok's friend, he is the CEO of one of the biggest companies in all of South Korea.

“I was going to tell you about him to help with your work but good thing you came. Maybe we can just discuss all that right now. If that’s fine with you and Yoongi of course.” Your dad said, eyeing the two of you.

“Sure, I don’t have any other schedule for today.” Yoongi confirmed.

“Perfect! How about you Y/N?” Your dad asked.

“Oh yea sure.” You replied, still baffled about the new information you had just learned about Yoongi.

With that, the three of you went inside your dad's office and discussed a few deals, details and designs you could all work on. Your dad had two companies and you were working in the other smaller one. The companies were known for their great interior house designing. Yoongi's company being the biggest and most famous one in that field.

“I want to do something big this time.” Your dad heaved out. He was sitting on the couch beside you and in front of Yoongi, deep in thought about what he can do.

“What do you mean by that dad?” You muddled.

“Maybe a showcase-like exhibition.” Yoongi remarked, ignoring your confused state.

“Perfect! That’s a great idea, we'll do that.” Your dad happily exclaimed.

“Wait, so we’ll hold an exhibition with our new designs? Like how Ikea has those fake displays?” You asked, amazed by the idea.

“Something exactly like that.” Yoongi confirmed.

“Oh my god, you’re so smart. I’m sure this will benefit all our companies ” You exclaimed jolting up from your seat, making both Yoongi and your dad look up at you surprised.

“Uh sorry I just got a bit excited.” You murmured and sat back down making your dad chuckle.

“Yoongi, do you have any set date for the exhibition in mind?” Your dad asked, looking back at him.

“How about 4 months from now? Our company is low on furniture stock right now so it’ll take about a month to get them and 2-3 months to set all the designs.” Yoongi replied.

“Hmm, I think that’s great. Within the month you guys get furniture we can make the presentations with selected designs and a location to display the exhibition.” You suggested.

“Yea sure, we can have another meeting to discuss that later.” Yoongi said to which you and your dad both nodded.

A few minutes later your dad’s words were interrupted by a spam of text messages on your phone.

“Sorry Dad, I'm just gonna check to see if everything is fine.” You said, pulling out your phone to which he nodded and continued talking to Yoongi.

[yoora] 2:13pm: are you done yet???

[yoora] 2:13pm: please tell me you are

[yoora] 2:14pm: it’s been almost 4 hours

[yoora] 2:14pm: I still need to share my news

[yoora] 2:14pm: it’s important.

[yoora] 2:15pm: pleaseee Y/N!!

[yoora] 2:15pm: reply or i’ll never tell you.

[y/n] 2:16pm: jeez woman you need to stop spamming!

[yoora] 2:16pm: fucking finally!!!

[y/n] 2:16pm: and fyi, it’s only been 3 hours

[yoora] 2:16pm: same thing

[y/n] 2:17pm: anyways, i’m almost done here so tell me where to meet you

[yoora] 2:17pm: my place.

[y/n] 2:17pm: alright, see you soon

[yoora] 2:17pm: okayy see you soon!!

“Dad I actually have to leave right now.” You announced, closing your phone screen.

“So suddenly? Is everything okay?” He asked, face frowning with concern. Yoongi was staring at you as well.

“Yes dad everything is fine. I just need to go drop by at Yoora’s place.” You responded.

“Oh I see, take care and send my greetings her way.” He said standing up.

“Will do, I’ll leave now and please take care of yourself.” You said, hugging your dad. Your eyes then landed on Yoongi.

“Uh it’s an honour to be working with you Mr. Min.” You said professionally, extending your hand towards him.

You heard him chuckle, showing off his gummy smile before responding to your handshake. “Just call me Yoongi.”

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

“You have a what!” You yelled, choking on the water you were gulping down.

“I have a boyfriend.” Yoora stuttered out, playing with her fingers.

“Oh my god Yoora, this is huge!” You exclaimed, putting aside the glass of water and holding her hands.

“I know, he’s actually coming over in a few minutes.” She said, making you widen your eyes.

“Why did you call me then! Do I know him? What’s his name? How long have you been dating?” You bombarded her with questions.

“Y/N calm down, I wanted to tell you before anyone and I don’t think you know him but you’ve definitely heard of him. He’s actually one of Hoseok's friends.” Yoora said, making you frown.

“Really? Who?” You questioned.

Before she could even reply, the doorbell rang.

“I think that’s him.”

You watched as Yoora walked over to the door, opened it and got crushed by a muscular figure hugging her.

“Hi babe, I missed you.” You heard a deep male voice, followed by a chuckle and a “I missed you too.” from Yoora. You smiled at that as you were beyond happy for your best friend.

As the couple walked in, you stood up from the couch and finally saw the man's face. Hoseok's friend huh? Once again very good looking.

“Hey you must be Y/N. I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook, It’s nice finally meeting you.” He introduced himself, extending his hand towards you.

“So you’re the man that stole my best friend's heart and my other best friend's car. It’s nice finally meeting you too, Jungkook.” You joked whilst shaking his hand.

“I— let’s not talk about the car incident. Hoseok still hates me for that.” He nervously laughed, making both you and Yoora chuckle.

“Anyways how and since when have you two been dating?” You asked curiously.

“Uh we’d been talking for 7 months after the party we met in and started dating 3 months ago.” Jungkook said, making you squint your eyes at Yoora. She told you about meeting this hot guy at the one party you couldn’t attend, but never told you that they had been talking afterwards.

“I’m sorry, I know I should have told you sooner but we wanted to be sure about our relationship before telling anyone and don’t be mad, you’re still the first one to know anyways.” Yoora apologetically retorted and you immediately softened your eyes.

“It’s fine, I’m so happy for you both. Jungkook please keep her happy and never break her heart or I swear I’ll kill you.” You threatened him.

“I swear I won’t, I love her too much.” He confessed looking at Yoora. You saw the love he had for her in his eyes and how flustered Yoora got.

He’s definitely the one for her.

“Well I guess I’ll leave you two be, don’t want to to be a third wheel.” You laughed.

“No no please don’t. I know you’re free today and we haven’t been hanging out a lot lately. Jungkook doesn't mind, I already told him.” She pleaded. Your eyes wandered off to Jungkook for confirmation and he nodded with a smile.

“Are you sure?” You asked, still having second thoughts.

“We’re sure, we can watch a movie if you’d like.” Jungkook suggested.

You sighed and smiled. “Alright, sounds good.”

Yoora squealed and stood up, “I’ll go get the popcorn and some drinks ready!”

“Why don’t you two catch up and choose a movie while I go get that hm?” Jungkook insisted, leaving a peck on Yoora’s forehead before heading towards the kitchen.

As soon as he left, you immediately hugged Yoora.

“Oh my god! He’s so sweet and good looking, literally your type.” You quietly exclaimed.

“I know right! I’m so glad I didn't ditch that party Hobi took me too that day. The guys there and Hoseok's friends were so nice and hot. You would’ve found yourself a man as well.” She excitedly whispered back.

You quietly chuckled, “I admit Hoseok’s friends are really nice and hot but you know why I couldn’t come.”

“Right, speaking of that, I forgot to ask how it went with your dad. How’s he feeling now?”

“Much better, he’s been taking all his medications on time and started working again. Dad also sent his greetings your way.” You smiled.

“That’s great! Make sure to send my greetings back to him,” She replied, making you nod.

“Of course! Well, let's choose a movie now.” You said, grabbing the remote from the table.

“Marvel!” The two of you exclaimed.

“Spider-man!” You jumped up, causing you both to laugh out loud.

“I heard Marvel and Spider-man, I’m so ready to watch.” Jungkook beamed, coming out of the kitchen with popcorn, drinks and other snacks in his arms.

“Jungkook, you're a Marvel and Spider-man fan too!” You excitedly asked.

“No shit Sherlock, who isn’t?” He cockily responded, making the three of you laugh.

“Okay, okay, let’s watch!”

You didn’t even realize when the three of you finished watching 3 movies before ordering a take out and leaving her place. It was really fun and Jungkook was an amazing guy. You’re so happy for Yoora.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

“Y/N please come to the party!” Yoora whined over the phone while you were cooking yourself some pasta for dinner.

“But—“

“No buts, you’re coming and that's final.” She stated.

“I’m not sure about it though.” You sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Oh come on, Jimin literally called and personally invited you.”

“I know but we’re not so close.”

“So what? Me, Jungkook and Hoseok, we’re all going to be there as well.” She retorted, trying to convince you for the past 15 minutes now.

“Fine, but I don’t have a—“

“Don't even worry about that. I have a sexy black one piece you could wear. Just decide on a suitable dress or some shorts and a nice top to go along with it.”

“Okay, thanks.”

She knows you too well.

“Don’t thank me, you know our rule.” She said, trying to sound mad.

“Right my bad.” You chuckled.

“Oh Jungkooks here! I'll call you tomorrow and drop off the one piece.” She exclaimed.

“Yeah sure.” You replied.

“Perfect! I’ll see you tomorrow then, bye.”

“Yeah see you, bye.” With that, the two of you ended the call.

Jimin had called you three days ago, inviting you to his house for a pool party which was being held on Saturday. You weren’t sure if you’d go since you’d only met each other once and weren’t too close. However, now that Yoora had successfully ended up convincing you to attend the party, you realized it wasn’t such a bad idea. You could spend some time with Hoseok, Yoora and some other friends.

It had also been a little over a month since you had started working on the exhibition with Yoongi. As promised, you did all the research on possible locations and compiled various interior designs to use for display. You’d definitely be using this pool party as a way to unravel and celebrate the successful presentation you gave a few days prior. You’d been quite nervous as you didn’t want to disappoint your father or Yoongi. Despite your nerves, you decided to go ahead with it. Turned out that you had done remarkably well, impressing Yoongi as a turnout.

Today was Thursday, meaning you’d only have a day to prepare yourself. Most of tomorrow will be gone as you know you’ll find yourself drowning in work. The party is in the evening of Saturday so you’ll get everything ready the morning prior.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

You stood by the edge of your bed, staring at the pile of mess you just made. You were frustrated and confused as to what to wear to the party later in the evening.

Not wanting to spoil your whole mood, you decided to facetime Yoora and let her decide. As you were about to call her, something clicked in your mind.

You totally forgot.

You knew it’d be rude to call her in the middle of this so you decided to break it down to two outfits. You took pictures wearing both and just sent her the pics.

[y/n] 12:18pm: Yoora I know you're having lunch with Jungkook and his parents but when you have time please choose which one I should wear.

*insert image*

After you quickly sent the text, you ran to the kitchen to grab some food to eat. You were really excited about the pool party. The one piece Yoora gave was indeed sexy and fits your body perfectly. You sure were going to have fun tonight.

As soon as you sat on the sofa with a bag of doritos, you received a notification. You smiled and clicked on it knowing it’ll just be Yoora but—

What the fuck!?

[yoongi] 12:23pm: Y/N? this is Yoongi, I think you’ve got the wrong person.

[y/n] 12:24pm: oh my god! I'm so sorry I think I misread yours and Yoora’s name.

[yoongi] 12:24pm: Oh it’s fine

Your heart was beating so fast right now. You accidentally sent two pictures of yourself to Yoongi. It took you about a good six minutes to calm down but as soon as you were okay, you received another notification

[yoongi] 12:32pm: If you're open to receive another opinion though, I'd say the second one.

You blinked your eyes and kept staring at the text. Not gonna lie, that did something to your heart. You felt butterflies in your stomach.

[y/n] 12:35pm: oh alright thanks

[yoongi] 12:37pm: np:)

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

[hobi] 5:56pm: hey I’m downstairs

[y/n] 5:56pm: give me two mins i’ll be down

[hobi] 5:56pm: okay I’m waiting

You quickly fix your hair, put on your wedges and give yourself a quick glance in the mirror before leaving your apartment.

You are going to go to Jimin's party with Hoseok today. It’s been a while since you last met him considering his sudden trip to Chicago for two weeks.

Stepping out of the apartment entrance, you saw Hoseok leaning against his silver BMW. He didn’t notice you as his eyes were too focused on his phone.

“Hobi!” You beam, running up to him.

“Hey Y/N!” He beams back, trapping you into a bear hug.

“You look nice.” He compliments, eyeing your blue jean shorts and black off shoulder crop top which show off your belly piercing and sharp collarbones.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You retort, eyeing his white shorts and blue striped shirt.

“I never look bad.” He states whilst adjusting the shades resting on his head, making you roll your eyes.

“Anyways, how was Chicago?” You ask.

“It was amazing! I met a girl there actually.” He answers, making your eyes widen.

“Oh my god what!” You exclaim, causing him to let out a chuckle at your reaction.

“I’ll tell you on the way, get in the car first or we’ll be late.” He remarks, already walking towards the driver seat.

“Oh yea let’s go.” You say, opening the car door and settling yourself in.

Once he starts driving, your curiosity grows bigger.

“So?” You start, staring at his side profile.

“So what?” He asks, taking a quick glance at you before staring back at the road. You know he knows exactly what you’re referring to.

“Jung Hoseok.” His name comes sternly out your mouth.

“Fine fine, her name is Aera. She's actually Korean and is currently studying at a law school in Chicago. She still has a year to go and then she’ll come back.”

“Stop, that's so cool. So you’ll wait till she comes back?” You curiously ask.

“Yeah we both seem to like each other and we’ve been talking ever since I got back.” He shyly replies.

“Hobi, that’s great! Omg I'm so happy for you.” You squeal as he thanks you before turning on some music.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I’d be available to pick you up tonight so I was going to tell Yoongi to bring you along with him.”

“Wait. Yoongi’s coming?” You ask, horror evident in your eyes.

“Of course we’re all friends, he’s Jimin's friend too, did you forget?” He laughs, eyes still focused on the road.

Great, just great. Now you have to face him after accidentally sending him your pics. Can this get any worse and embarrassing? You know you had to face him on Monday for work but within 5-6 hour after the incident…

After about 15 minutes, you see Hoseok pulling up at a parking lot with a huge mansion behind it.

Jimin lives here what the fuck!

“This isn’t Jimin's house, it's his family farm house.” Hobi confirms, as if he read your mind.

“Oh I see, it’s really pretty.” You mumble.

“It is. Now quit staring at it and let’s go in, I'll finally introduce you to Taehyung as well,” he says, making you nod. You follow him to the door and watch him ring the bell. When the door opens, the two of you are greeted by Jimin himself.

“Hoseok! Hey bro.” Jimin pulls Hoseok into a hug before turning towards you.

“Y/N hey! Glad you made it, it's been a while huh?” He exclaims, reaching in for a hug which you gladly accept.

“It sure has, thank you for inviting Jimin.” You beam a smile at him.

“Of course anytime, we’re friends now.” He smiles in return.

“But she’s my best friend.” Hoseok speaks in between, making you playfully hit his shoulder.

“Yeah yeah anyways, come in and make yourself at home.” Jimin says, guiding the two of you inside.

As soon as you step in, you are hit by the smell of alcohol as the song Uptown Funk by Bruno Mars blasts loudly through the speakers. Of course the first thing you notice is the beautiful interior of the house, you were amazed by it. Then you notice people scattered all around the house.

Jimin takes it upon himself to lead you and Hoseok to the backyard even though Hobi seemed to know the way. Once you reach, you see many more bodies dancing around, drinking, smoking, making out and playing in the pool.

“The bar is right there, you can get whatever you want. Please enjoy and don’t hesitate to ask for anything else, I'll be around.” Jimin says, pointing at the bar where people were sitting and bartenders were serving drinks.

Jimin definitely seems rich. I mean, his family owns Park Motels after all.

“Yeah, till everyone actually gets here at least. We all know you’d be hooking up with someone soon Jimin.” Hoseok snickers whilst you press your lips together to try to hold in your laugh.

“Shut up! Don’t embarrass me like that. Geez don’t listen to him Y/N.” Jimin replies.

“It’s totally fine Jimin, it’s your party of course you’ll enjoy.” You assure.

“See! Y/N is so kind, not judging me unlike someone else here,” he says, glaring at Hoseok to which he responds by rolling his eyes.

“Hey Jimin!” the three of you look back to see Namjoon, Seokjin, Jungkook, Yoora and this other man you don’t think you’ve ever met walking towards you.

Maybe he’s Taehyung?

“Hey guys!” Jimin and Hoseok beam as Yoora comes and hugs you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you again.“ Seokjin politely says as Namjoon agrees and passes his dimple smile towards you.

“Likewise. How are you guys?” You ask.

“Perfectly fine. How about you?” The two say in return.

“I’m fine too.” You smile and wave at Jungkook who waves back.

“Oh and I believe you two haven’t met. Y/N this is Taehyung and Taehyung this is Y/N.” Jimin adds, pointing towards the man you’d assume was Taehyung indeed.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you Y/N,” his deep ocean-like voice speaks as he motions his hand forward to you. You blink your eyes and immediately shake his hand.

He looks so dreamy and handsome.

“I could say the same Taehyung, nice to meet you.”

Soon enough, the 6 boys are chatting amongst themselves and you quietly start whispering to Yoora beside you, “How the hell are his friends so good looking?”

“I don’t know. Well let’s see, Namjoon and Seokjin have a girlfriend while me and Jungkook are together so Jim—“

“Really!” You exclaim louder than you thought, once knowing two of them have girlfriends. This makes the 6 men snap their heads towards you and Yoora.

“Any problem girls? You okay Y/N?” Namjoon asks.

“Uh yeah actually, me and Y/N are going to head to the pool now, is that fine?” Yoora asks, hooking her arm under yours.

“Of course have fun! The changing room is right there.” Jimin says, pointing to a door beside the glass window leading into the house.

“Got it thanks!” Yoora beams before holding your hand and dragging the two of you towards the change room. Of course after making sure she gives Jungkook a quick peck on his lips and cheek.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

You can feel the gazes being thrown at you. You’re not even complaining because damn right you look sexy and amazing tonight. Yoora told you a thousand times before the two of you stepped out of the changing room seconds ago.

Making your way towards the pool, you already see Hoseok and his friends in there, shirtless. You look away spotting Jimin making out with a girl in a hot pink bikini only to find Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook talking to one another in the corner while Namjoon and Seokjin were each talking to a girl. Maybe it’s their girlfriends.

When you get into the pool, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook swim towards you and Yoora, making sure to splash some water your way on purpose. As a reflex, the two of you bring your hands forward to block the water and look to the side.

“My girls are looking sexy.” Hoseok beams, snaking his arms around your bare waists. The two of you don’t mind knowing it’s just Hoseok and the three of you are very much comfortable with each other. I mean, you’ve practically known each other for twenty years now.

“Don’t we always.” You two retort as Hobi gives you both the ‘as if, I've seen you at your worst’ look.

“Anyways, we are going to start beach volleyball in the pool, wanna join?” Taehyung asks in between.

“We’d love to!” The two of you exclaim and so everyone gathers up to play.

After two long hours of playing around and having fun in the pool, You and Yoora decide to come out and dry yourselves up. You received a few drinks in the pool but the two of you needed to sit down to talk whilst enjoying another nice drink.

The two of you dry yourselves up in the change room before running towards the bar stools. You make sure to wear shorts over your one piece before you do though.

“One Margarita for me!” Yoora exclaims before turning to you, telepathically asking what you’d like.

“I’d like the same,” you respond, making the bartender nod and leave to get your drinks ready.

They served it in just seconds, wow.

“So how was lunch with Jungkook's parents?” You start, clinking your glass with hers.

“Oh my god I was literally nervous for no reason, they were like the sweetest people ever,” she coos.

“Really, that’s amazing! Still can’t get over how gorgeous you look tonight by the way. I bet Jungkook won’t be able to keep his hands to himself, not that he was in the pool anyways.” You tease your best friend who showed up in a yellow and purple two piece, paired with an off the shoulder, floral white dress to go over it.

As if on cue, Jungkoook makes his way over to the two of you and stands beside Yoora.

“Hey Y/N! Can I steal her from you for a bit?” He asks whilst licking his lips.

“Of course, take her for as long as you want. Have fun you two.” You sheepishly grin, glancing between the two and notice Yoora glaring at you while Jungkook stands there with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Oh we will, thanks.” Jungkook replies, eyeing your best friend before snaking a hand around her waist and taking her inside.

As soon as Yoora and Jungkook leave, you order another drink and patiently sit there while staring at the crowd. Half of them are in the pool and the other half are dancing.

“Mind if I join you?” Your eyes widen as you immediately jerk your head up to see Yoongi staring down at you.

“Uh no not at all,” you respond, fidgeting with the glass of red wine the bartender had just served to you.

“Great. A single malt scotch whiskey please,” he orders, taking a seat on the stool beside you which was previously occupied by Yoora.

For a moment you both sit there in silence while taking sips of your drinks. From the corner of your eyes, you feel Yoongi's eye on you so you slowly move your head to take a glance at him.

“Do you have something to say?” You ask, trying your best not to stutter knowing you are under his sharp gaze.

“Yes well, we have a meeting on Thursday, just a reminder.” He states to which you quietly nod.

“Right. Thanks for remin—“

“Y/N! Yoongi! Come on, don't sit around, let’s go dance.” Hoseok excitedly exclaims as he wraps his arms around the both of you before dragging you two to the dance floor.

Hoseok twirls you around before showing off some moves of his own. Taehyung being the gentleman he is, greets you before grasping your hand to sway you around a few times. You laugh and find yourself dancing along to the music. Such a nice and fun guy.

Yoongi stands there watching the three of you, well mostly you. Unknowingly he feels his heart racing. It was something about your exposed legs, collarbones, the belly piercing and wet hair. You look beautiful under the neon lights flashing over your face, swaying your hips perfectly to match the rhythm.

Soon enough, many more bodies start to join, making the space become tighter. Yoongi then realizes that your body was now pressed against his. Your hands are resting on his shoulder in need of support while his hands just stay by his side, not daring to touch you.

The two of you find yourselves lost in an intense eye lock. The loud music blasting in the background, starts fading away as Yoongi finds it harder to resist himself.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Yoongi growls, not taking his eyes off you as you don’t either.

“Like what?” You mumble, enough for him to hear. You make sure to squeeze his shoulders and biceps before slowly trailing one of your hands down to his chest. You don’t know where you got this sudden confidence from but you’re going to blame the alcohol for it.

“Fuck you’re gonna regret this,” he mumbles back, lightly flicking his tounge over his lips which you find super hot. You feel intoxicated with the tone of his voice, his strong breezy cologne and his not so minty but alcohol scented breath.

Your bodies are pressed against each other yet his hands are still not touching you. It was driving you crazy. He was driving you crazy.

You didn’t want to but you find yourself breaking the intense eye contact before moving your eyes down to his wet plump lips. You take your index finger and slowly trace it down his Adam's apple which you watch go up and down, indicating how hard he gulped from your movement.

“Y/N.” he warns. His voice, low and stern.

You look back up to meet his eyes, only to see them glued onto your lips. You were so desperate to have them pressed against his pink wet ones that you didn’t care about anything else at this point. In a swift moment, you grab his collar, pull him closer to you and smash your lips onto his.

Your eyes shut close as you feel Yoongi's lips perfectly mould into yours as if they’re only made for you. They were warm and soft just like how you’d imagine.

That’s where you finally feel one of his arms wrap around your waist and the other around your back with his hand tangled up in your damp hair. You secure your arms around his neck and slowly guide your fingers up to play with his long fluffy hair.

When you feel his hands move down to your hips giving it a little squeeze, you almost yelp and immediately pull out from the kiss.

Fuck you just kissed Yoongi.

He slowly caresses your cheeks and lightly brushes his thumb over your lips.

“You wanna take this upstairs,” he whispers, making you nervous. You may have planned on getting laid tonight but certainly not by Yoongi.

Yoongi feels your uneasiness and sighs. “Only if you’re okay with it. I’m not going to force you Y/N. We can forget whatever happened if you think this was a mist—“

“No!” You exclaim.

“I…I just…fuck. Okay fine let’s go!” You stutter and whine, being all frustrated with yourself. You know you’re overthinking but this might only be a one night thing and nothing else.

Right?

“Y/N once again I’m not—“

“Yoongi, I want you,” you cut him off, looking him in the eyes. You see them go dark with the same lustful gaze he held before the kiss. He clutches your hand and walks the two of you past the sweaty bodies to get in the house. From the corner of your eyes, you spot Taehyung and Hoseok happily dancing amongst the crowd.

They didn’t see the kiss, thank god.

Once Yoongi’s free hand slides open the glass door to enter the house, he leads you up the stairs as you mindlessly follow behind. He comes to a halt in front of the furthest door from the stairs and opens it, gesturing for you to step in.

Once you do, you feel his grip on your hand go loose as he leaves it to lock the door with his broad back facing you. When he turns around, he pauses and stares at your figure for a brief second before moving closer. He snakes his arm around your waist and quickly yanks you towards him so that both of your hands are pressed against his chest.

“You’ve been driving me insane all night Y/N,” he whispers, giving your hips a light squeeze.

“Could say the same Mr. Min,” you tease, knowing damn well how much he hates it when you call him that.

“Fuck Y/N, you sure you want this?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yes.” You breathe out.

“Are you clean baby?” He asks while opening the drawer beside you with one hand, possibly searching for a condom.

“Yes and I'm on pills so no need to look for a condom.” You assure, deeply staring into his dark orbs before locking lips with him again.

This time it was more rough and rushed. Both your tongues fighting for dominance and teeth clashing, leading into a messy make out session. His hands roam all over your body as yours begins to unbutton his black shirt and slide it off his built arms.

You yelp when he lifts you up and gently places you on the bed, hovering over you. Your hands make their way from touching his bare upper half to the back of his neck as you both continue to salivate each other’s lips.

“Yoongi please,” you whine, pulling out of the steamy kiss.

“Please what? I need words princess.” He speaks in a husky tone, making you even more weak and wet than you already were.

“Please touch me. Please fuck me, I need you in me.” You beg, receiving a quick low chuckle from him.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless hm?” He says, slowly caressing your thighs.

“Yes please.” You plead.

“Tell me exactly what you need then.” He demands.

“Need your dick in me fuck Yoongi just—mmph.” Your whining gets cut off by his lips that smash onto yours once again whilst his cold veiny hands begin to trace all your curves.

“Can I?” He pants, playing with the hem of your shorts. You nod and he immediately slides them off, throwing them somewhere on the ground.

He goes down to your thighs and spreads them apart, leaving wet kisses around the inner part before eyeing your clothed area. You were still in your one piece.

Yoongi hovers back up to lean over your face, gently holds your head and lifts your upper half off the bed so that you’re smug in arms. He unties the knots on the back of your one piece before sliding the straps off from both sides and completing discarding it from your body. Yoongi eyes your naked figure from head to toe and bites his lips before leaning down to your neck.

“I always knew you’d be beautiful in and out.” He whispers, biting your earlobe before leaving a trail of wet butterfly kisses from your neck, down to your pussy. You shudder at the feeling.

“So fucking wet for me aren’t you princess?”

“Hmm only for you, now take this off,” you mumble, pointing at his pants as you can already see how hard he is. Yoongi immediately obeys and takes it off along with his boxers, letting his hardened cock spring free. You almost gasp seeing his length, he was huge.

“Like what you see baby?” He smirks.

Fuck you want him. You want him so bad!

“Yoongi go on alread—shit!” You whimper, feeling his cold fingers rubbing circles over your clit.

“Need to stretch you out first.” He says, inserting two long fingers inside you.

“Yoongi oh my god.” You cry out in pleasure, pulling him closer.

“You like that baby?” He asks, groaning when you clench tightly around his digits.

“Yes Yoon— '' You moan out as he quickens his pace, fucking his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. When you feel your orgasm approaching, you squeeze his arm.

“Fuck im so close,” you hiss as he hums in response before pulling his fingers completely out of you.

“Yoongi why’d you pull out!” You whine, feeling the sudden emptiness of his fingers in you while you were close to finishing.

“Cause I want you to cum all over my cock.” He responds, palming his member and stroking it before positioning it to your entrance.

He looks at your naked frame beneath him to ask for consent, to which you eagerly nod. When he enters your wet heat, the two of you let out a deep groan and whimper.

“Shit! You’re still so fucking tight baby. Should’ve eaten you out too,” he groans, feeling the burn as every inch of him stretches your walls to their limit.

“Fuck Yoongi, just move already.” You plead, extremely aroused by the dirty words he was throwing at you.

He is quick to oblige and nods before thrusting into you slowly. Once he catches his pace, you become a moaning mess under him. His name being the only thing coming out of your mouth while you grip his hair and sheets tightly. Yoongi loved it, loved feeling you squirm and be a mess under him, loved the sound of both your skins slapping filling the room while you chant his name over and over again. It was like music to his ears.

“You feel so fucking good baby.” He groans, using one of his hands to play with your hardened nipple before latching his mouth on, to suck it.

“Fuck Yoon you’re so good, shit right there.” You moan, rolling your eyes back while gripping Yoongi’s hair tighter as you feel him hit your g-spot. You only earn yourself a low groan from him.

“Shit shit shit so close Yoon fuck!” Yoongi hates to admit it but the way you were calling him ‘Yoon’ was making him go crazy.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cream my cock princess yea?” He asks gritting his teeth, nearly pulling out all the way before slamming back into you again.

“Yes! Please go faster!” You shriek, bucking your hips forward to feel him more.

“Faster? shit you’re making me go crazy Y/N.” Something about the way he said your name along with the amount of pleasure he was giving you almost made you dizzy.

“Gonna cum Yoongi!” You screech, shutting your eyes tight as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach again.

“Will cum all over my cock like the good girl you are?” He emphasizes each word with controlled thrusts.

“Yoongi yes fuck, please just— cant hold it.” you cry out.

“Cum for me then.” He murmurs, leaving a sloppy kiss near your jawline before pulling out of you to let you cream his cock. You wince and cry out at the feeling as your orgasm washes over you.

Yoongi surprises you when he gives your slit a nice long lick. “Just wanted to taste you,” he beams, plopping his sweaty figure beside you.

“You didn’t cum,” you remark, sitting up as your chest still heaves up and down.

“It's fine.” He mutters, still lying down as beads of sweat drip down his chest and forehead.

“No it’s not, you’ve been working so hard for the exhibition, I think you deserve a treat Mr. Min.” You retort, looking down at him and giving his veiny cock a nice deep stroke.

“Fuck, I told you not to call me that but you’re right, I do deserve a treat. Think you can give me a head?” He jerks up, brushing his hand through his hair.

“I’d love to, Mr. Min.” You respond, your tongue reaching down to lick his pink tip, precum already leaking from it with your own cum smeared over as well.

“Don’t fucking tease baby.” He grunts. You dip your head down and take him in your mouth, moaning at the sensation as Yoongi tries to fight back a moan himself. You swirl your tongue around a bit before bobbing your head up and down to suck him off and take as much of him as you can. Only Yoongi knows how pretty you look right now and he’d do anything to see you like this for the rest of his life.

“Fuck you’re taking me so well princess.” He hisses, gripping your hair and moving it out your face so that it wouldn’t be in your way. It only makes you suck him harder.

He groans and throws his head back, “Not gonna last long fuck.”

After giving him a few more sucks, you feel his dick twitch in your mouth. You knew he’d cum anytime soon so you already prepared yourself.

“Shit, gonna cum.” He curses before shooting his hot cum straight down your throat. When you pull out, you start coughing and your eyes were glistening with tears.

“Shit sorry, are you okay?” Yoongi apologizes, worriedly reaching down to cup your face.

“I’m good, just tired.” You tell him with an amused smile.

“Let’s get you cleaned okay.” He says, pecking your forehead and lifting you off him to lay you down on the bed.

Was this the same man a few minutes ago?

You watch Yoongi wear his boxers and go into the bathroom to bring a damp towel in order to clean you up. Once he is done, he gives you his black button up to wear and tucks you in bed before slipping under the sheets, right beside you.

“Yoongi if we sleep here, I'll need to tell Hoseok not to wait for me.” You mutter, instantly realizing and moving closer to Yoongi's body so that you are facing him.

“I’ll text him, don't worry, just sleep okay.” He replies, cuddling you while playing with your hair.

“Don’t tell him that we—“

“No way I would, I'll never hear the end of it.” He adds, to which you both let out a chuckle.

“Thank you for tonight, goodnight Yoongi.” You wish him, eyes closed as you’re already half asleep in his embrace.

Yoongi smiles and mutters back, “night princess,” before falling into deep slumber himself.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

It’s been 3 months since that night. Neither you nor Yoongi had the time to talk about that certain topic or anything else other than work. Things had been really hectic and busy with the exhibition being just around the corner. In fact, It was going to be held tomorrow so you were really nervous yet excited at the same time.

You were seated on your kitchen counter stool, skimming through some details on the designs you will be presenting tomorrow, when you hear a sudden knock on the door. You sigh and walk over to open it, only to find Yoongi standing there.

“Hey Yoon—“

“We need to talk.” He says in a serious tone, making you worried. You let him in and close the door behind you.

“Is the display fine? Should I change anything? All the designs are okay right? Did something happe—?'' Before you could say anything more, he cuts you off.

“I can’t anymore.” He mumbles, staring at the floor.

“Cant what Yoongi? Are you okay?” You worriedly ask him, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.

“Fuck I just— I think I’m in love with you.” He confesses, looking up at you. You were too stunned to speak at the moment. The two of you stand there in silence for a few seconds, if only he knew how fast your heart was racing right now.

“You’re what?” You question him, making sure whatever you just heard was right.

“I’m in love with you. I know we haven’t gotten the chance to talk much after that night but I can’t stop thinking about you. I was actually attracted to you from the beginning and I slowly started liking you as a friend and a colleague but that night, I just knew I liked you more than that. So can we like…you know, will you be my girlfriend?” He nervously confesses.

“Is Mr. Min nervous?” You tease him, flashing him an amused smile.

“Y/N. I'm serious.” He almost whines. Seeing such a side of Yoongi apart from his cold demeanour that he has when working makes you so happy and giddy.

“Well, I’d love to be your girlfriend.“ You giggle in response as he stands there in shock.

“Yoongi,” you call out. He hums in return, eyes boring into yours.

“Just kiss me already goddamn it.” You whine, tugging on his shirt collar so that you could press your lips against his.

When your lips meet one another, It starts off as a slow passionate kiss which gradually turns into a rather hungrier one. Yoongi being Yoongi, squeezes your ass and tumbles you both over onto your couch so that he is hovering over you.

“How about you pay me back for borrowing some sugar that day, by letting me taste your sweet little cunt.”

“Oh my g— Yoongi!” You widen your eyes and lightly slap his arm. How did he go from being a stuttering mess to being so confident?

“Oh come on, I know you’d love it.” Yoongi mumbles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I would but I love you more.” You giggle pecking his cheeks.

“Not more than how much I love you though,” he retorts, pecking your lips and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Tomorrow is a big day.” You whisper, hooking your arms around his nape.

“I know, but you did amazing. You worked so hard on this and I loved all the designs and presentations you gave.” He replies, gently holding your hand and rubbing circles over your knuckles.

“You’re just saying that because you like me.” You retort, making him lean up to face you.

“This is part of the reason why I actually started liking you baby, I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“I should be the one saying how proud I am of you. You worked even harder on this than me. You even skipped meals and went home at like 2 am,” you respond, brushing your fingers through his scalp.

“Oh, were you observing me princess?” He asks you in a teasing manner.

“Hmm couldn’t stop staring at my handsome and hot neighbour. No wait, I mean boss, or is it colleague? Or should I say boyfriend.” You reply, not even denying it.

“Whichever you like,” he chuckles in response before getting off of you and lifting you up in bridal style.

“Yoon what are you do—“

“Getting you to bed. We need to get some good sleep to survive tomorrow.” He states, walking to your bedroom and placing you on the bed.

“Nice room.” He compliments whilst looking around. He’s an interior designer himself, of course he’d say something about it.

“Thank you, wanna stay over?” You ask, reaching to the side to turn off the lights from your bedside table.

“Would love to.” He responds, sliding under the sheets beside you. You switch off the lights, embrace yourselves in each other’s arm and fall into deep slumber.

≫∘❀♡❀∘≪

The next day, your morning was occupied with last minute touch ups needed to be done for the designs. You kept wondering how your boyfriend was putting up with everything. When the two of you were having breakfast, he informed you that his parents were going to drop by as well. The news had made you even more nervous than you already were. I mean, the two of you just started dating yesterday and you were already going to meet his parents.

Anyways, the overall day went by really fast and fairly well. The exhibition went smoothly and a lot of people showed up including your parents, Hoseok, Yoora, their parents and Hoseok’s friends. When you met Yoongi's parents, they were really nice and looked so happy to meet you. When you told your parents, they weren’t even surprised, especially your mom.

“I knew you two would have something going on, the moment I saw him at your place that day.” These were the exact words your mom had uttered to you with Yoongi by your side.

Hoseok, Yoora and the others were very surprised. Jungkook and Jimin obviously couldn’t keep their mouths shut and exposed Yoongi by telling you how he kept asking them for some girl's advice.

“Never knew you’d be into Yoongi but at least we can go on double dates now.” Yoora had whispered to you.

“Can’t believe that even when you and Yoongi would talk to me everyday, I couldn’t figure it out.” Hoseok had beamed.

You are currently in Yoongi’s black Palisade, on your way back home from the restaurant Yoongi's father had made a reservation for. It was a fun day and nice dinner with both your families and friends. Both your parents got along very well.

You were staring out the window, recalling all the events of today when you suddenly feel Yoongi’s cold hand on your thigh.

“You know my offer from yesterday still stands.” He says, making you frown.

“What are you talking about?” You question him.

“Don’t act so innocent baby, you know what I’m talking about.” Once he states that, you knew exactly what he was referring to.

“Yoon, I already paid you back.” You reply, deciding to tease him and stretch out the conversation a bit.

“Hm, but that wasn’t enough.” He retorts.

“What do you mean I gave ba—“

“You made me fall for you. Never knew I'd fall for the girl that showed up at my apartment late at night to borrow some sugar. You stole my heart so make up for that.” He claims, looking at you when the traffic lights turn red. Your eyes immediately soften.

“I love you so much.” You confess, leaning in for a quick kiss before the lights turn green again.

“I love you too.” He responds, kissing you back before you pull out and properly sit back on your seat.

“Also, I’d like to accept your offer Mr. Min.” You assert, intertwining your fingers with his as his hand was still resting on your thigh.

“Oh my love, I hope you know you’re in for a long night then.” He smirks, squeezing your hand and taking a glance at you. You look away being all flustered so he wouldn’t notice you turning red.

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luellasplanet · 4 months

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opposite’s attract. (aggie beever-jones)

word count: 1.9k

i think i changed the tense in this about ten times so let’s ignore that shall we x

aggie and y/n were never ever seen without each other. the duo were so similar yet so different. people often wondered how they became such good friends and later on girlfriends.

aggie was always with the boys at lunch time, jumping in the mud and leaves, creating an absolute mess of her uniform and overall being a total pain to the teachers, who were always shouting at her to behave herself.

whereas y/n was softer spoken than aggie, rather preferring to sit under the trees during lunch and talk about what she was going to do at netball later on that day or preferring to have her head stuck in a book and her head in the clouds.

the duo met on one random thursday in year three, aggie watched on from behind one of the trees as y/n gave into one of the year sevens who wanted her lunch. passing along the sandwich and chocolate bar with ease. the girls were easily a good half a foot taller than the year three so they towered over poor y/n.

from that day forward aggie vowed to be y/n’s knight in slightly muddy armour, always keeping an eye on her at lunch if she was by herself. forever standing up for y/n if someone was bullying her.

21 DECEMBER 2014

“aggie no! you wouldn’t!” the shorter girl was currently being pinned down to the bed as aggie threatened to pour the glass of water on her.

aggie was insistent that y/n had to be her defender for her in the garden, so that she could practise her shots. it was pissing down with rain and there was simply not a chance in hell that y/n would be getting sick this close to christmas.

y/n’s screaming and laughter had alerted aggie’s mother as she peered into the doorway. “aggie get off poor y/n right now.” the woman always had a soft spot for y/n, she was practically her third child after all.

grumbling under her breath, aggie flopped to the side and off of y/n, placing the glass down next to her. “dinner will be ready in five! come and set the table please.”

despite their differences in the sport they liked what the two had in common however, was their shared love for food. the duo raced down the stairs eager to eat supper.

after a more than filling meal and a very intense game of footsie under the table, tiredness starting to settle into their systems, a movie in front of the fireplace was just what was needed.

the four beever-jones’ and the honorary beever-jones all settled underneath various blankets and cushions on the two couches and love seat.

fire crackling softly, lighting the entire room is a soft orange hue while an old christmas movie played on the tv.

19 MAY 2017

today should’ve been one of the best days in y/n’s netball career, but instead after arriving at the wrong netball courts, then her team losing three out of four matches and her not being able to shoot more than five goals into the net, she was simply done with everyone and everything.

not a single word was spoken in the car on the way back to the y/l/n house, the only thing that could be heard was the soft buzz of the radio and the sound of other cars on the highway.

there was simply nothing anyone could say to make her feel better. seven months of training, for the biggest u14 netball competition, down the drain in a couple of hours was the most soul crushing experience for a fourteen year old.

the orange and pink uniform was digging into her shoulders and the seventh place certificate was placed haphazardly on the seat next to her.

y/n’s older brother tried to make a small joke but seeing the glint in her eyes he shut up immediately as he didn’t want to upset his sister even more.

the car ride was half an hour but it felt like an eternity. time didn’t feel real for y/n as she exited the car and grabbed her bag from the trunk.

taking refuge in her room when she got home, all she wanted right now was to have a nap and suddenly realise this was all a sick dream and she would wake up and all would be fine. but it wasn’t a sick dream it was a reality that she would have to face sooner or later.

loud footsteps could be heard from the staircase before her room door was roughly shoved open. “there’s my favourite netball star!” the sob that followed shortly after erased the smile from aggie’s face very quickly.

clearly no one had told her how the tournament had gone.

one look at y/n’s tear stained face and wobbly lip was the only thing that aggie needed to see before she dropped her sleepover bag on the floor and jumped onto the bed next to y/n.

“i messed up everything aggie, i’ve never seen my coach so upset with me in her entire life! i couldn’t even shoot properly and i kept getting blown for contact and stepping and-” aggie’s soothing hand on her back quickly stopped your rants. although your words were muffled because your face was smothered by the fluffy pillows, she could still make out how upset you were.

“oh y/n/n, i’m sure no one is upset with you, it’s only one tournament. i’m sure no one will remember this in a few months.” an idea struck to mind and with a teasing smile plastered on her face, aggie whispered to y/n “and besides you’ve been so busy crying you haven’t even noticed i’m sitting on your bed in my sweaty and muddy footy clothes!”

your head shot up immediately to notice that aggie was indeed sitting on your bed in her football clothes. it was tradition every saturday the two had a sleepover, rotating every week who’s house they would sleep at. “agh go shower you dickhead.”

placing a hand on her heart aggie placed a faux look of hurt on her face “you wound me y/n/n, you really do.” before getting up and going to the bathroom. where of course you had already laid out a fresh towel for aggie to use.

30 DECEMBER 2019

you had long grown out of her timid phase and was now the confident young woman your parents always told you she had to be.

your sixteenth birthday party was hopefully going to be the highlight of the entire christmas break, well besides christmas itself.

a rooftop party where none of your siblings would be present and no parents in sight sounded like the perfect idea to get a little drunk. (spoiler it wasn’t a little)

music blared out of the speaker, the base from the speakers sent shivers up everyone’s spines as they all mindlessly danced. after maybe four too many shots and a whole lot of encouragement from some out of school friends, y/n found herself in between a whole lot of sweaty bodies swaying and jumping to the music.

“i’m just heading to the bathroom quickly, i don’t feel too good.” you said to no one in particular before rushing off the dance floor and into the bathroom. the music in there was much softer and more calming, which helped with the upcoming headache forming behind your eyes.

barely managing to run into the nearest bathroom stall, back slumped against the wall as your hands gripped the porcelain toilet seat. trying to control your breathing and gain back the ability to see straight.

“y/n open the bloody door, right now!” aggie’s urgent voice and fist rattling hard against the wooden door increased the banging sensation in your head. blindly reaching up towards the lock of the door, you barely managed to turn the lock in order to let aggie into the small bathroom stall.

muttering a few curse words under her breath, aggie let herself into the bathroom before closing and locking the door behind her. bending down to your eye level. “who are you? i’m not sure my girlfriend would like it if she knew i was in a bathroom stall with a stranger you know…” y/n’s vision was blurred so she couldn’t quite see that it was her so called ‘girlfriend’ next to her.

“your girlfriend mm, now who would that be?” teasing tone very evident in aggie’s voice, but of course that completely washed over y/n’s head as another wave of nausea hit.

even with your head over the toilet seat and tears prickling in the corner of your eyes you still managed to mutter out how much you loved aggie and how extremely mad your dad would be if he saw you like this.

but of course this small interaction between the two of you would not be remembered in the morning, or how you had made it home in one piece after the night's events.

you didn’t remember how aggie had to keep her arm tightly around you as the two of you walked (stumbled) across the pebble stone sidewalk, how aggie’s jacket was draped over your shoulders and most of all when aggie dropped you off at your front door. the lingering kiss that you left on the corner of aggie’s mouth which sent butterflies into the blonde’s stomach.

CURRENT DAY

all those little memories were often reminisced at family dinners with both beever-jones and y/l/n family members present.

or in hushed conversations as the sunlight started to set on the bustling city of london, soft conversations about anything new or old as the room slowly began to lighten. rustling of freshly washed sheets and quiet laughter, before feet padding against the wooden floors and music could be heard.

the sounds of the frying pan sizzling with butter and the shower being turned on full blast.

y/n and aggie worked in perfect harmony, knowing each other's schedules like the back of their hands. you were fortunate enough to have an extra twenty minutes at home before you had to leave. which meant that you assisted aggie’s getting ready.

making sure the blonde had her protein shake prepped and ready, as well as making sure that her kit bag was clean and organised.

it was simply the little things that y/n did for aggie that meant the most to her. aggie would always press a lingering kiss to your lips before leaving the apartment, never forgetting to say “bye, i love you, see you later!” before she left.

then when the two of you got home later that evening, after giving the house a bit of TLC and aggie preparing dinner for them both. you would both settle down on the couch with a fluffy blanket draped over your legs.

a movie or series on in the background as the light from the tv, light the room in a soft hue of different colours. although the routine may seem boring and tedious to some, aggie and y/n wouldn’t have changed anything for the world.

the random saturday night dates, shopping on a wednesday or thursday, offering to pet sit y/n’s brother’s dogs when he was out of town and even the late night walks hand in hand to whatever destination their legs took them.

simply just y/n and aggie against the world, forever and always.

#luella’s fics #aggie beever jones #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso #aggie beever jones x reader

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abibliophobiaa · 11 months

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Beyond - s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Five: Somewhere in the Crowd There’s You

a/n: here’s chapter five of my purely self-indulgent fun — a little later than i anticipated because i was sick and got a little derailed. we are half way now and things will be heating up in the next few chapters, haha. wanted to play around with one of my favorite tropes, so here we are with modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings/tags: (10k words); mentions of alcohol; parent loss, both parties; r has a sister and father; smut in later chapters, so 18+, minors dni; additional tags to be added.

masterlist

“You sent too much money.”

It’s your father’s voice that spills down the other line. Gruff in a way that alerts you your fears aren’t for naught, as he’s likely had many sleepless nights since the last you spoke. You recall days as a child, when your mother had been sick, and your father would stay awake all hours of the night, if only to clean up the house so she didn’t have to. To make sure that her worries were only meant to be on getting better and resting.

“I…have a business and it’s going well,” you explain, chewing on your bottom lip.

Across the room, Steve’s fluffing pillows and putting a champagne bottle on ice. Your guests will be here soon, likely within the next few minutes, though when your father’s name flashed across your screen you knew you needed to answer.

“Only a few clients now, but I’m hopeful I’ll pick up more,” you continue, exhaling deeply. “I want you to have it. I know Caroline mentioned needing new shoes. Please let me do this.”

There’s a long pause. “Okay, okay. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Clinical year at school, newly married, and now a businesswoman. How is my son-in-law?”

“He’s…”

Steve rushes into the kitchen where you’re standing, hands curling around either of your hips to shift you away from the refrigerator so he can pull out the charcuterie board you had commissioned for the evening’s gathering.

“He’s really great. He’s been busy since we got back from our honeymoon, but he’s doing really well.”

Ever since your moment days ago in the kitchen, after Steve had pushed aside picking you up and opted to send Hopper in his stead, your relationship has taken new form. True to his word, Steve started a new habit of not answering his phone after you're done with your clinicals for the evening. Afternoons now had been spent watching your shows together on nights you didn’t have prior engagements with his coworkers, merely existing in the same room together, becoming…friends.

Literal friends, in the truest sense of the word. And it’s more than you can ask for, though you can’t lie that even the slightest touches leave you a little breathless. There’s also the kisses to the back of your hand at dinner, the way he curls his palm around the top of your thigh while his coworkers regale a particularly interesting story, the lingering press of his mouth against your forehead when he’s feeling especially doting in mixed company.

Progress.

You’re making progress.

“I actually should go and help him. We have company this afternoon. His cousin and wife are visiting us for the first time since the wedding. Still getting used to hosting gatherings as a couple, you know?” There’s a chuckle on the other end, and you know him well enough to imagine the slow shake of his head. “I love you so much and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

The line clicks, leaving you to witness Steve elbow deep in the sink, washing your coffee mugs from earlier that morning. Your eyes slide to the perfectly operational dishwasher on his right side, though you can’t deny that the sight of your husband, bare arms shifting and moving as he works, is a lovely one. None the wiser of your ogling, you step forward to him, elbow leaning down against the counter.

“You know, the dishwasher is empty,” you point out.

“I am perfectly capable of cleaning a few dishes,” he grouses, rinsing a cup and settling it in the drying rack. “I also need to keep moving. Getting antsy now that they’re running late.”

“Hey, Steve?” You step closer, your front brushing his hip. He shakes his head as you do so, a laugh breaking free from his mouth as you grip his arms and still him in his frantic movements. “Put the sponge down. And the plate. The fork, too.”

The three items plunk down into the sink, a loud clatter in your otherwise silent home. Fingers curl around a hand towel and he reaches over to grasp his wedding ring, pushing it back into place against his knuckle. One thing you’ve found, and you particularly enjoy, is the fact Steve’s never taken off his ring. Not once. Even under the false pretenses of marriage, seeing him wearing a symbol of your union, of the vows you shared some time ago now, erupts dozens of bees into your bloodstream. Humming, buzzing, igniting your every nerve ending with electricity.

“Are you okay,” you ask, hand coming to rest against his back.

It’s the softest brush, and yet he turns his head all the same, hazel eyes meeting yours, and then trailing up the inside of your arm to where you’re touching.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says unconvincingly, shifting to face you now. That arm drops as he does so, but is replaced by his two large hands cupping your biceps. “Just want to get through this afternoon and then I’ll be much happier.”

Your mouth opens to speak, to ask him why the stress over this afternoon, when his phone rings and the doorman lets him know Theobald and Cami have finally arrived. It’s not the first time you’ve met them. The first had been at your wedding, where introductions to most of Steve’s friends and extended family were done so in a rapid fire manner. They’d been kind enough; as much as one can be in a two minute conversation wherein you welcomed them and thanked them for coming to celebrate your “special day” with the love of your life.

But now, seeing them there in the flesh, brought a new wave of nervousness into your belly. Theobald Cletus, with his dark hair that resembles Steve’s, with tan skin and the beginnings of wrinkles that crease his forehead and around the corners of his mouth. And beside him, his stunning wife with silky red curls that fell to her waist in ringlets, delicately freckled cheeks, and impossibly green eyes. Ethereal—she looked ethereal and, by your guessing, quite a bit younger than her husband standing with a hand against the smallest point of her back.

As your mouth opens to speak and welcome them into your home, Cami rushes forward, curling her arms around your shoulders in a frighteningly tight hug that has you wincing and peering over your shoulder to your husband. Steve only shrugs as he steps forward and cups his hand around his cousin’s, only to be tugged forward into a hug of his own.

“Theobald, you’ve met my wife,” Steve finally says once you’ve managed to extract yourself from Cami long enough to sidle back up to him, his arm settling around your waist, palm curling affectionately around your hip. One of the appropriate touches you’ve discussed, and yet it has your head spinning all the same.

Just as it does every time.

“Ah, yes.” His eyes flicker to yours. Darker than your husband’s, corners twitching as his lips curl into a smile. “The new Mrs. Harrington. How could I forget that whirlwind affair?”

Head dipping uncomfortably, you press your palm against Steve’s where it rests against your hip, sliding your fingers between his to lace them tight. “It was pretty crazy, wasn’t it?” Awkwardly laughing, you turn to look to Steve for support. “Should we take this into the living room?”

“Please!” Cami exclaims, flicking her hair over her shoulders. “I would love to hear all about the honeymoon. I want all the details. Should we be expecting any little Harringtons soon?”

Just as you say, “Absolutely not,” Theobald echoes, “My cousin loves kids. Always wanted a brood of them.”

It’s expected, you think. It’s a common question after marriage, no matter how inappropriate. Society says once you’re married you’re to obviously have children next. Frankly, it’s archaic and a ridiculous practice. And even so, Theobald’s words strike a sudden sadness into your chest. This thought that Steve so deeply wants children. A thought you could completely see come to fruition based on his interactions with El and Will alone. They’d been immediately endeared to him. All wide eyes and bright laughter, vibrant conversation, his endless bantering with them.

Steve Harrington would be a good father to his future children one day with his real wife. Not the woman you are to him for the next three years.

However, it’s at this moment you rationalize the error in your plans. A real couple would have had these conversations about future children already.

“Not now, at least,” you giggle airily, curling your arm around Steve’s and tugging him close. His brows furrow as you add, “Right now I’m just enjoying spending time with my husband. I want to be a little selfish for a while yet.”

“Understandable,” Cami agrees, settling down on your living room couch, crossing her legs and revealing a stunning pair of Gucci pumps that likely cost your half of the rent while still living with Robin. “I love our two little gremlins, but they take up all our free time. Constantly running them around to school events, dance classes, sporting events.”

“Sweetheart, the au pair does all of that,” Theobald chuckles, earning a whack in the arm from his wife. “Enough about that. Tell me…how did you two meet? It all happened so fast.”

“As you already pointed out,” Steve warns, hand around yours growing tighter.

Cami moves to open the champagne bottle, easing the tension in the room with the echoing pop. Glasses are poured and passed around the table, glasses coming together in a soft ‘cheers’ before you bring the champagne flute to your lips and take a large swallow. Bubbles burst against your tongue, eyes training on Theobald’s, just as he passes a look your way.

A battle of wills then, you think.

“We met at a party,” you begin, removing your hand from Steve's and gripping the bottom of his chin, shifting him enough that he’s looking at you. “We’d known each other for a bit through our mutual friend, and we’d always kind of danced around one another. In the same spaces always, yet too nervous to make the first move.”

Steve watches you carefully as you weave your tale that isn’t really a tale. It’s mostly the truth, with the romance added in. But it comes naturally. Pours out of you with an unexpected ease that has Cami leaning into her husband’s shoulder, green eyes twinkling as you speak.

“And then one afternoon, Stevie bought me a drink and walked it over to where I was standing by myself. My friend had just left to use the restroom, and here he stood…all tall, dark, and handsome. We started talking that night and just realized how easy it was to be around one another. I’d never talked so much on a first date, and yeah—I considered that our first date. After that we spent nearly every day together. It didn’t take long for us both to realize we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Some might think it was rushed, but there’s that saying, right? When you know, you know. And with my school starting up again, and us wanting so badly to get married, we thought no time like the present. Now here we are.”

For emphasis, you lean forward. Close enough that Steve’s eyes cross, his mouth dropping a hint at the corners, before twitching upward when your lips press against the corner of his mouth. A tentative press of your skin just barely against his. You linger with your forehead against his, trying not to focus on the temperature in the room, or how it feels it’s creeping higher and higher with every passing moment you remain connected to him.

“Here we are,” Steve echoes, breath fanning against your bottom lip.

Were you to even move an inch, your mouths would connect. A thought he must have as well, because he brings his thumb up and taps your bottom lip gently, nuzzling your nose until you hear the excitable clapping of Cami’s hands where she’s sitting on the living room touch. Pushing the hem of your summer dress down back around your knees, you shift and take in the older man sitting across from you. His eyes are narrowed on your face, a twitch not unnoticed in his cheek as he jolts to his feet and suggests Steve and him have a little bit of time as ‘cousins’ on the private patio. Noticing your hesitance at him leaving your side, Steve brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, pours you another glass of champagne, and promises he’ll be right back.

With the door closed and the men left to their own devices, you look over to Cami. Cami, the picture of beauty. An image of a woman who walks in this world of the elites and has no qualms about it; steps into it and commands it, whereas you’re still walking around on wobbly legs like a baby deer. Even her clothes look like they were made for her. Luxurious fabrics that ebb and flow with her every movement, high neck of her summer dress leading to a gorgeous diamond necklace falling to the hollow of her throat.

Across from her, your dress suddenly feels too tight. Gifted by your mother-in-law who insisted she owned her own fashion line, and therefore absolutely must dress her only daughter. A quick phone call wherein you protested her suggestions ended with a ring from the doorman alerting you a delivery of multiple garments had arrived for you. Various dresses for each occasion, pants, shoes, blouses and anything you could imagine ever needing were added to your closet. All elaborate in design, and becoming for a new wife to the CEO of a major contracting company. The biggest the city touted, if you were completely honest with yourself.

Today you wore an off the shoulder floral patterned dress and the diamond earrings gifted by your mother-in-law as a bridal shower gift. You’d pushed aside the thought of heels for the afternoon; instead opted for a comfy pair of sandals that were maybe in their last season of use, but now they only looked garish in the light beside the Gucci pumps on Cami’s feet.

Comparison, this ugly weed of a thing, grew up within you against your better wishes. Robbed you of what little air fell in and out of your lungs as you sat there, sipping your champagne. You didn’t care for these preconceived ideas of what a Harrington wife should look like, right? You were your own person, had been long before him, and would continue to be so after him. Yet sitting there, watching her gracefully move about the room, and commenting on the pictures you’d added from the wedding, reminds you of how some people were meant for this life. Some people were raised for it.

You were not.

“He looks so in love with you,” Cami trills, fingers running along the silver edge of your photo frame, lifting it nearer to her face for inspection. You know exactly which one it is. Jonathan had told the two of you to look one another in the eyes and press your foreheads together. He’d draped your veil over the both of you, the setting sun basking you both in a golden hour halo. It’s dreamy. A shot so dreamy it’s easy to believe it is of a man deeply in love with his bride. “That new love look. Cherish it. You know how these Harrington men are.”

Actually…you don’t.

You’re not interested in even asking her what she intends by her words, but when she places the photo back down and turns your way, there’s a glimmer of something wet on her lower lashes. Awkwardly, you clear your throat, reaching over and offering to refill her glass. She heartily accepts, fingers combing through long amber locks as she settles back down on the couch across from you, crossing her legs once more. Again, she’s the statuesque image of perfection; cracks visible in her foundation, yet devastatingly beautiful all the same.

“You’ve got the best one,” she sniffles, grasping a piece of cheese and a cracker within her index and pointer. “Stevie is a sweetheart. Always has been. Theobald is hard on him, and I always try to tell him to ease up. The late Mr. Harrington was always so rough on his son as it is without Theo breathing down his neck.”

The late Mr. Harrington.

You knew very little of him. From what you’ve gathered—the very scraps of things here and there, as Steve never really mentioned him—their relationship, while his father had been alive, was a strained one. His parents had him later in life; a quick Google search would show as much. The heir to the company born with a silver platter before him, wanting for naught, pushed into the limelight.

Still, hearing Cami talk about Steve…with pity—grief tightens like a vice around your heart. Envisioning those hazel eyes of your husband, staring up expectantly at a man who never saw his son’s achievements for what they were. And now, at his young age, trying to make his late father proud at the expense of his own self.

Long hours, constant meetings, coaching calls. Pushing, striving, hustling.

With a long sigh, you glance toward the outside patio, where you can see your husband with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His left hand curls around the stem of his glass, hand gesticulating wildly in the air as he talks with Theobald, hair in disarray. Like he’s been raking his fingers through it. Eyes trail his shoulders next, along the contours of sinewy muscle, then further up where you can visibly see the rigidity in his form.

“Steve is…”

Your voice breaks, eyes tipping downward to your bubbly drink in hand. Cami’s fingers curl around your wrist, a sympathetic frown lining her pristine features, and you know she’s thinking you’re caught up in your emotions. But in reality, it’s because there are so many things he is, all of which swirl like a muddied mess in your hazy mind.

“Steve is a good man. He’s the best man. I’m really lucky to have him.”

When you glance up, there he is, grin gracing his features. It’s plain as day he’s heard you; those stiff shoulders slacken. Tension eases from the curve of his mouth, as well as in the grip of his fingers around his glass. Instead his face morphs into elation, feet carrying him over to where you sit so he can once more slide an arm around your waist and tug you close.

Theobald regards you carefully in the distance, taking in the way you slide into the crook of your husband’s chest, seeking the warmth of him. The comfort of someone in your corner, seated in a room ripe with scrutiny.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers against your ear, just as Cami dives into conversation about her and Theo’s children, revealing photo after photo of their adorable faces on her iPhone screen.

“We’re the Harringtons, aren’t we?”

He chuckles brightly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

Day shifts into evening.

Conversations drift around lighter topics. Talks of your schooling, your plans for the future, the business you’ve started. A fact which, to your unamusement, Theobald finds more than mildly intriguing when he later corners you in the kitchen as Steve and Cami flip through the photos she had taken at the wedding on her phone (despite Steve’s pitying gazes for you to rescue him). Instead, you’d offered to start cleaning up, knowing your husband and you had dinner plans with another couple from the office.

“A dog walking business…” He mutters, elbow dropping down onto the counter. “How quaint.”

“It’s extra money,” you say simply, placing a watery glass into the drying rack. “You’re a businessman, aren’t you? Isn’t it better to make all my money now while I’m younger?”

“That I am. And I would agree,” he murmurs, eyes trailing your profile. “It’s just curious since you know how wealthy your husband is. He’s CEO of the company now, and that’s not even counting the hefty inheritance he got as the sole Harrington son. That kind of money is generational. He could never work another day in his life and be well off.”

“My husband is supportive of my endeavors,” you grumble out, training your eyes on the kitchen backsplash.

“Obviously,” he agrees goodnaturedly. “He loves you. Everyone can see it. All of a sudden our hard working golden child is leaving the office at normal times, running home to his lovely wife. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

Heat flashes like lava in your gut over the revelation that your ruse is working. It’s hindered by Theobald’s latter statement, mind stuttering over his blasé persona. The question as to whether or not Steve knows what he’s doing. Trying to hide your piqued interest, you harden your expression into one of neutrality.

As your mouth opens to speak, Cami cuts you off with a shrill, “Theobald, they have to get ready for their dinner. We’ve overstayed our welcome. But I would absolutely love for us to do this again!”

Uncertain if you’re happy or sad about this latest development because you still needed further clarity over Theo’s words, you place the remaining glasses into the drying rack and slide your rings back into place, pressing yourself into Steve’s side as he approaches. For a dramatic flair, you even press your left hand to his abdomen, rings glinting in the light, head leaning against his chest as you wish them a wonderful rest of their evening.

Theobald gives you one last fleeting look just when his wife nearly strangles you in another bear hug, and claps a hand against his younger cousin’s shoulder. “We will definitely have to do this again. It was nice officially meeting you, Mrs. Harrington.”

The doors slide closed and a sigh spills from your lips. Against you, Steve relaxes, hand rubbing up and down the length of your spine idly, eyes still fixed on the doors across from him. Slipping away from him, you quickly gather the rest of the snacks and glasses from the living room table and drop them down into the sink, pinching at the bridge of your nose.

“Is he always like that?” You wonder out loud, whirling around to face Steve.

His head jerks at your words, mouth pulling southward. The solidness of his right hip rests against the kitchen counter. You try to not dawdle on the way his bicep twitches as it rests on the surface beside him, nor as his fingers sprawl around the base of his jaw, keeping his head propped up.

“He’s usually worse,” he admits. “What did he say to you?”

“Just commented on my business,” you tell him, deciding to ease in with that before asking what his cousin had meant by ‘hoping Steve knows what he’s doing’, moving to place a plate in the drying rack. “He couldn’t seem to fathom how I would resort to the life of a peasant, when I should be rolling around in your endless buckets of money.”

Snorting, he teases, “Someone’s angry.”

“Yeah, and for once not at you, so I’d be thankful.” Your nose wrinkles as he barks out a laugh, head tipping back in his glee. Mirth bubbles up within your belly at the lyrical sound spilling from your husband, the way his cheeks stretch wide on his face, how the corners of his eyes crinkle in his happiness. “I told him I liked what I do. Is that so wrong? I like having my own thing. Just like you have your own thing.”

Without a warning, he turns the water off. Grips your shoulders lightly, turning you to him. “Theo is an entitled idiot, okay? He thinks he runs the company and the world, and anyone who doesn’t live like him is beneath him. Notice how he’s got this constant look on his face of disgust?”

At that, your lips twitch. Steve coaxes it further by shaking you slightly, earning a giggle. “He does kind of look like he hates everyone around him. It’s a wonder he married Cami. She seems sweet.”

“She is sweet. A saint for putting up with him for all these years, honestly,” Steve says, giving you one last shake until you’re wiping your hands off and slouching against his frame. “What?”

“I want a selfish hug,” you grumble against his shirt, face pressing into a sternum.

“A selfish hug?” You can hear the questioning lilt, the probing in his kind voice.

Nodding, you step closer. The tips of your sandals meet his leather shoes, hem of your dress spilling over the dark material. Your head shifts just the slightest, ear resting over the curve of his chest, relishing in the warmth of another body. This. Hugging? It’s not new. You’ve been practicing. As odd as that sounds, and though you don’t want to unpack it, since your argument with Steve he’s come home every day and greeted you with one. You’d say you’re pros at this point.

“And what might a selfish hug be?” He muses, hands coming up to rest against the center of your back.

“I just stand like this,” you begin, dropping your arms to your sides, letting them dangle at your hips. “And you hold me.”

You can feel the vibration of his laugh against your ear, but his arms tighten around you all the same, holding you in place. Melting into him, you rest in the comfort of his embrace. Merely focus on the sound of his breath pouring in and out of his lungs, the gentle beat of his heart beneath your ear, the brush of his thumb against your skin, soothing you.

“You’re too much,” he says, but there’s no weight behind the words. Can feel his mouth curling upward against your ear.

“Thanks, Steve.”

For the evening. For helping you in a time of need. For holding you now. For holding you tomorrow. You’re not really sure you know what you mean. But all you do know for certain is that, when his arms tug you closer, you loop yours around his waist, and your selfish hug becomes a real one.

Lightning streaks the sky. Bright white illuminates your bedroom, then settles into dark once more. A loud boom echoes, rattling the foundations of your home. Jolts your bed, and thus your body out of it. Grasping at your chest, you try to tamper the frantic rise and fall. The rush of breath forcing itself in and out of your screaming lungs, ejected from your dreams into waking so suddenly.

Another flash sparks your room in a moonlit glow. Falls dark a second later as you brace for the crack of sound that pierces your ears after. Groaning, you grasp the edge of a fluffy blanket on the foot of your bed and curl it around your shoulders, padding through your home in search of the living room, sights set on watching Netflix until you fall back asleep from reruns of your favorite shows.

Only upon entering, you find you’re not alone. Already doused in colorful light from the episode of New Girl playing on the screen is none other than your husband. Where you’re standing you can see the frames of the thin glasses he wears, the unkempt bed hair at the top of his head, the hoodie pulled over his body to block out the air conditioned chill in the living room.

“You’re awake…” It comes out hoarse, the rasp of your voice drawing your husband’s attention. “And you’re watching without me?”

The mock gasp has him moving over on the couch to make space for you, your rear dropping down into the couch cushion beside him. There’s another blanket across his lap, impossibly soft and a pretty navy color that pops against the pale fabric of your carpet. Getting comfortable, you unloop yours from around your shoulders and drape it across your bare thighs, sleep shorts doing very little to block out the chill in the air. Once satisfied, you lean back and watch the chaos between Jess and Nick unfolding on the television screen.

“What are you doing awake?” you ask after some time. Wince as another boom of thunder rattles the walls of your home.

“Couldn't sleep,” he says, breaking off into a yawn. “Had a lot on my mind.”

“From dinner or…?”

Dinner itself hadn’t been stressful—at least nothing that occurred would have alluded to as much. You’d met up at an Italian restaurant with a business partner of Steve’s and the business partner’s husband. Two older men in their fifties, with graying hair and a kindness that radiated from them. Most of the conversation had been of things outside of work, so you’re uncertain as to what might be bothering him.

“Not dinner,” he confirms, pausing the show on the TV screen. His head rolls back to rest against the plush cushion, hands coming up to press into his face. Slides his palm down the contours, exhaling deeply. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh,” you mutter softly, picking at a nonexistent thread on the edge of your blanket. “That’s fine. I just figured—”

“It’s nothing personal toward you. I just don’t want to bother you with it. Why are you up?” He queries, head turning to look in your direction.

“You never bother me.”

Steve levels you with a blank stare and you laugh. “I’m not afraid of thunder…but it definitely woke me,” you admit quietly, sounding more than a forlorn without meaning to. “My room gets really dark at night with the curtains, so when it lit up from the lightning I was a little spooked.”

“Understandably,” he says. “Want me to grab you coffee or tea or something?”

Head perking up, you ask, “Do we still have the camomile? If it’s no trouble, I mean…”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if it was,” he says, but there’s no hint of any condescension there, only his increasingly familiar thoughtfulness.

You lean your chin over the top of the couch to catch the retreating form of Steve’s back swathed in his dark hoodie. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, starting up your warm drink. “Want anything else? We still have those chocolate covered strawberries from dinner.”

“Do you want the chocolate strawberries from dinner?”

His grin turns wry. “Maybe.”

“Bring them over, you grown up baby,” you tease, extending a hand so he can place the covered plate in your awaiting palm.

Peeling back the tinfoil, you rest the tray on the coffee table, hiking your blanket higher around your thighs. Steve’s pouring hot water into a mug that says ‘Future Veterinarian,’ humming a familiar tune as he works.

“You usually do honey and…a bucket load of sugar, right?”

Eyes roll. “I like a spoonful of honey in my camomile and nothing else. The sugar is for my iced coffees, thank you very much. Also thank you for making sure Hopper always has it on standby lately.”

“What’s that thing you said to me when we first talked about us getting married?” He taps his chin mock thoughtfully, his other hand twirling a spoon around the inside of your cup. “Happy wife, happy life starts with always knowing her coffee order.”

It’s true, and you hide your lips behind your palm at the realization he’d been listening as he crosses the space between you and rests the steaming mug in your hand, muttering quickly, “Be careful, it’s really hot.”

“Thank you,” you say as he drops back down into the couch and plucks a chocolate covered strawberry off the tray. “I know you didn’t want to talk about what’s bothering you…but I figure…I don’t know. It’s storming out, we’re both not getting much sleep tonight, we could play a game or something.”

“A game?”

Nodding, you add, “An icebreaker. I know we talk more now, but we could try and get to know each other better. A little look into the person we married.”

Your husband shifts on the couch beside you. Presses his back into the arm rest and stretches out, arching a brow pointedly. Smirking, you do the same. Shift just enough so your back is up against the opposite end, your socked feet just barely brushing Steve’s.

“Okay. Night out or night in?” you ask.

“Before…night out.”

“Before?”

“Well, now you force me to watch Gilmore Girls.”

“I don’t force you! And it’s only been a few days. I’m sure it’s an absolute horror of spending time with the woman you fake married,” you gasp, feigning terror. “Just admit it. You like spending time at home.”

His eyes are set on yours as he says, “I like spending time at home.”

“I’d agree for myself as well. Life is so busy as it is lately, it’s nice having a space to come back to.”

One thing you’re very grateful for on a growing list is the space your new bedroom has given you. Sure, it can get lonely, but it’s an escape from the long days, a haven from stress, a bed to crawl back to when your eyes can hardly stay open any longer after a particularly hard day at clinicals.

“My turn,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his middle. And no, you don’t allow heat to crawl across your chest at the mere sight of his chest and arms flexing from the motion. “Would you rather go forward or backward in time?”

“And what would be my purpose of going forward or backward? Am I rectifying my mistakes? Seeing the future? Looking to see how my life pans out?”

“I…it’s whatever you want it to be.” He blanches.

“I don’t really have a lot of regrets in life. I make a choice and however the cookie crumbles is how it crumbles. Exhibit A,” you say, holding aloft your left hand, where two rings glint in the dim living room. “So I probably would want to go forward. But that’s dangerous, because if you go too far forward, you might see things you don’t like. I definitely wouldn’t want to know how I, uh, you know? Check out of here. What about you?”

Steve pauses for a moment, brows drawn in thought. “Honestly? There are things I’d want to change about the past, sure. But I think I’d want to see the future. See if all I’m doing is worth it, you know?”

“You don’t think what you’re doing right now is worth it?” You wonder if he’s talking about the business. Assume he must be, but don’t press any further.

“I wonder sometimes, yeah,” he admits.

“Well, what would you be doing if it weren’t what you’re doing right now? To see if something else would potentially be worth it.”

He rubs a hand along his neck, shrugging. “I thought about being a teacher once. My dad thought that was a silly idea. But I’ve always been good with children, and I think I could have been good at that.”

“You are good with children,” you tell him, thinking to Will and El. To the friends you’d met at dinner in the past weeks who brought their little ones. “I don’t think that’s a silly idea at all. Not in the slightest, and I’m sorry if anyone ever made you feel that way. Like your interests were inconsequential.”

“Thank you.” Clearing his throat, he asks, “Movie night or date night?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” His eyes grow wide at that. Cheeks darken visibly in the moonlit living room. “I’m teasing you, Harrington. I think there’s a case that those can be one in the same. I would say broader…I love the idea of going out for a date, but I love those inside sort of dates more. They’re more intimate, there’s the comfort of your shared spaces, the fact there aren’t any crowds around you. Only that important quality time with your partner.”

“I don’t have much to contribute there, seeing as I haven’t dated much in the past year. And now I won’t be for another three years.” He chuckles, combing fingers through his hair.

“Okay, this question is super serious.” You fold your hands across your midsection, inhaling deeply, eyes shut. “Would you rather have a third nipple or an extra toe?”

“Seriously!”

“I’m very serious, Steve.”

“Extra toe.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck again, wincing slightly as he presses into a spot between his shoulder blades.

Your lips tug southward. “Are you hurting?”

“Just my office chair, I’m sure,” he grumbles, nonchalant.

“Get on the floor.”

His brows arch. “Huh?”

“On the floor,” you repeat, tapping the space in front of you on the carpet below. “In front of me.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, long limbs slip off the edge of the couch and settle down where you’ve asked. You move to tuck his hoodie in as best as you can, fingers moving to spread across the slope of his shoulders. He exhales deeply at the first press of your hands in the muscle wrought with tension. A low sigh spills free, head tipping back to rest on the cushion nearest to your knee. Fingers crave to brush the hair along his scalp, to see if he’ll make that same, soft sigh once more. But instead you continue, pressing slowly into his flesh, listening to his cues, figuring out what works and doesn’t.

“Would you rather have a big family or a small one?” You ask after Steve has gone quiet, thinking back briefly to the moment earlier with Theobald and Cami.

Steve, with his wishes to be a father. Steve, who wants a huge brood of Harrington babies. Steve, who wants a family.

And yet it’s not even that. Not the questions as to what he sees for his future. It’s the tangible worry of slipping up in your facade. Of revealing too many cracks in the foundations of your dynamics. That had been the first, and you know if this relationship is going to hold up for three years, communication is a must. Absolute transparency at all times, so as to not muck it all up and land yourselves both in some hot water.

“Growing up, it was just me. My parents had me a little older in their life. They were already further into their careers by the time I was born. So…it was often just the au pair and myself,” he explains, letting go of another deep breath.

His body slackens against your knee caps. Warm flesh of your husband pliant beneath your fingertips.

“I always had this dream of giving my kids the opposite of what I had. Always knowing love, family outings, doing everything with them. Dance class, football, acting—whatever they wanted. And I’d wanted as many as possible. A silly dream of six of them, running all over the world together as a family.”

“It’s not a silly dream. None of your dreams are ever silly, Steve.”

Warmth pools as Steve slides his hand up and covers yours where it rests against his shoulder. Heart stuttering, you continue, “Your family will be lucky to have you some day. I, for one, haven’t given much thought to that aspect of life. I hope Theo and Cami didn’t find that suspect. I just…”

“Have been busy with school. You’re becoming a doctor, that’s time and hard work. No one can fault you for that.”

“Right. Yeah.”

You resume your kneading, fingers stroking at shoulders, down the sides of his neck, attentive to all the tension. He grows softer beneath your fingertips, head against your knee, his eyes closed. Where you’re sitting you can see the moles on his face, the length of his lashes, the lines of his nose. Pretty. He’s pretty, and it’s always something you’ve known, but being so close—

“Sunrise or sunset,” Steve asks.

“Hmm, sunrise.” You poke at the middle of his forehead, and hazel eyes meet yours. “That one was simple.”

“I could tell you were overthinking,” he says simply. “We’re not going to be perfect at this marriage thing. But no one expects us to be.”

“I still think we need to get our stories straight at the very least. And I sorta messed that one up with the honeymoon baby thing.” You shrug, palms sliding down a bit onto his upper chest. He’s still sitting there, taking you in with his stare, hand around yours. “Kind of why I suggested this game.”

He offers you a gentle smile, saying, “Then let’s keep going.”

The conversation continues until the sun begins to change colors. Until the rain has since stopped, voices carrying above the television playing low in the background. You learn Steve’s a romantic; loves movies like the Titanic and The Notebook. And will also admit to enjoying some of the same romantic comedies you do.

He prefers rainy days, because he enjoys the respite they give from a constantly busy city just outside the walls of your home. He’d rather have happiness than wealth; enjoys chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven for dessert (and you make a note to pick up some stuff to make them on your next planned night together); he’d never had any pets growing up, but he’d love a dog.

And you tell him about yourself. How you love cozy socks and would prefer scrubs over real clothes; how you also never had pets growing up and would love to adopt and foster as many as possible one day; how you enjoyed fantasy over romantic movies; how you’d watched Titanic about a hundred times in your life and you still cried.

How you wanted to watch it with him next, and he agreed, stating it would be the next thing you do when you cook together.

Before long he’s yawning and your eyes are closing. His fingers remain around yours as you knead his muscles, prattling on about your plans for the week, school, your friends. And he talks about his own schedule, his meetings, proposes dinner for the both of you that upcoming Saturday. A cooked meal in, with a movie and some wine. Maybe you tease him a little, because he makes it easy when he blushes that pretty pink, and maybe he grins up at you fondly, eyes hooded in his sleepy daze.

Eventually, you lay on your side and he remains in front of you on the floor. You’re hardly awake as he drapes a blanket over your form and tucks a pillow under your head, whispering to one another as the sun starts to come up over the city.

Eventually, both of you fall silent at last, comforting sleep there to find you.

“I want to make it very clear before we go in there that we are not getting a dog. We are donating all the things we bought earlier, and then we are going home and having dinner together,” Steve reiterates for the umpteenth time that day.

“We are not getting a dog,” you repeat, mock stonily, looking your husband dead in the eyes.

Clearly unamused, he shoves at the arm you have jokingly curled around his forearm, but there’s no malice there. Only a gentle huff of laughter as he opens his car door and rushes around the other side to help you out. You never need him to, but he insists every time. Even offers an arm for you to grab as you hop onto the sidewalk. Once back on solid land, summer dress dancing around your kneecaps, Steve walks around to the back of the car and lifts the box of pet food, blankets and toys you’d picked up while at the pet store. Today, you decided, you wanted to give back to the local shelter in your new town.

And maybe you had an ulterior motive of trying to realize a dream of your husband’s by making him fall in love with a shelter dog in a way where his only option is to bring them home to live with you forever. But he’s been adamant all morning—so certain today’s events will not lead to four legs becoming part of your odd little family.

Inside, you’re greeted by one of the workers. A woman named Chelsea rushes around the counter to collect your donations and asks if you’d like to walk around a bit. Steve’s reluctant at your side, sunglasses peeled off and tucked into the neck of his shirt, but he comes along all the same as you grip his palm within your own and drag him along behind you.

You pass dozens of kittens and cats. Young and old all alike as you go. Some who meow as you pass, and others who linger in dark corners of their confines. It breaks your heart seeing so many, wanting to adopt them all, knowing you’re unable to. Sensing your unease, Steve squeezes your hand tighter and listens for the both of you while Chelsea speaks and your mind wanders.

“Down here are all our adoptable dogs.”

It’s a sight you never get used to. Dogs barking as you pass, bodies brushing against their cages, yearning for attention. You linger by Chelsea as you walk, rubbing noses and ears and backs. Tongues glide over your palm, wet noses brush your skin, dark eyes hold yours through metal bars. Somewhere in the midst of introducing yourself to all your newest furry friends, you find Steve’s hand is no longer in yours. Turning on the heel, you find him crouched low to the ground, fingers curled inside metal bars, softly speaking to the animal hidden within.

“Oh,” Chelsea mutters, shock evident in her tone. Steve looks up to her imploringly, then glances back at the dog inside. “That’s a new arrival. A ten month old male Bernedoodle. He’s a black tricolor puppy. His previous owners got him as a gift, and turned him over when he started getting bigger. They’re a smaller breed, but have a lot of energy and unfortunately you see a lot of this happening. People buy luxury pets and drop them off when they become too much. He’s been very timid since he arrived.”

“He just lost his family,” Steve says to no one, swallowing thickly. The woman at your side doesn’t speak, only watches as your husband continues to gently coax the puppy forward. “Hey buddy. I’m Steve. Wanna come over here? No?”

“Should we…” the woman beside you begins.

“Yeah, let’s give them a moment,” you mutter, a little breathless as you turn around and face the other direction, quiet footsteps carrying you further away.

But you still hear it.

Still hear Steve’s voice in your ears. A sad, “I know what it’s like. Feeling left behind, left alone. Especially from the people you want to love you most. But you don’t need to be afraid of me. I get it.”

There’s an echo of soft paws padding against a tiled floor. And the soft exhale from Steve. “There you go. See, I’m your friend. I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid.”

And when you and the shelter worker turn around, you find Steve with his fingers in the puppy’s fur, that pink tongue of his brushing over the inside of your husband’s wrist. That resolve in Steve’s eyes crumbles, your heart shattering along with it as you press the heel of your palm to your sternum.

He turns to Chelsea and asks, “Can we take him out? Just for a minute?”

Chelsea passes you a knowing look and that minute Steve requests turns into an hour in the yard outside of the shelter. The puppy seems hesitant at first, lingering near Steve’s thighs as you stand nearby. But once Chelsea hands Steve a frisbee and ball, it’s as though the puppy is sparked to life once more. Soon enough he’s frolicking around the field, playful yips streaking the summer silence as he retrieves his toys and rushes back over to Steve, paws pouncing playfully against your husband’s designer jeans.

But he doesn’t care.

No—you haven’t seen him light up like this in the nearly three months you’ve been married. The joy illuminated his features. The crinkle of his eyes at the corners. The belly laughs as the puppy eventually knocks him to the ground and demands belly rubs on the grassy floor below. He falls in love before your eyes. With no warning, impossibly fast, and so suddenly it comes as no shock to either you nor Chelsea when he asks about adoption.

As you sit in the lobby with the puppy on a leash on the floor, you turn to Steve, grinning widely. “You said we weren’t getting a dog.”

Steve pats his new fur son’s head and grins as the dog tips his head back to look longingly into his new father’s eyes. It’s sickeningly sweet, and does things to your insides that makes you feel hot all over. You chalk it up to the shoddy air conditioner system, tugging at the neckline of your dress to let the air chill your slick skin.

“I couldn’t leave him,” he says, brushing fingers along a furry ear.

“He picked you.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Fond. Smitten. He’s so in love it’s ridiculous, and all you feel is affection.

Affection.

Towards your husband.

New. But maybe not so scary.

You lean down to pet the puppy’s neck. He jumps up and scrambles up with his front paws against your lap, licking a broad stripe along your chin. “Steve, we have a puppy.”

Your first pet.

His, too.

“Yeah,” he says, but he’s only staring at you. You swallow. “I guess we do.”

A few questions and references and a small adoption fee later, and you’re both the newest proud parents of your still presently unnamed new puppy who pokes his head in the front seat as you drive to the nearest pet store in search of all the things you’ll need to make his transition as simple as possible.

Steve, ever doting as he is, grabs the leash as soon as he helps the little guy out and greets you as usual on your side of the vehicle. You spend the better half of the afternoon purchasing things for him. A dog bed, food, toys, a new collar with his name and address engraved into it.

Charlie Harrington, you both eventually decide, when the cashier asks how you’d like it engraved.

Charlie Harrington, who the doormen at your apartment building immediately fall in love with as you later walk in, you holding the puppy’s leash this time, and Steve trying his hardest to carry all the things you bought.

Charlie Harrington who bounds happily into your home and immediately starts sniffing around in his new space, excited to simply be around people who love him in such a short span of time and want to play with him like he deserves.

“I’ll get started on dinner, if you want to show your fur child around the house,” you tease, laying out Charlie’s shiny new bowls on the floor, and the basket of toys and bones you got for him in the living room, right by his bed beside it.

“You are a sneaky woman,” he jokes, coming up behind you in the kitchen.

Heat blooms where he rests his hand on your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek like it’s something he’s done before in the confines of your home, with no one looking. So casually, and yet stark in contrast to the riot of butterflies that stir to life in your stomach.

“And why might that be?”

“Played that ice breaker game with me, found out I never had a pet, and then brought me to a shelter…where I then got a pet.”

You shrug, turning on the stovetop to let the water boil. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re welcome. Now go—play with him. I know you’re itching to. You’re like a little kid on Christmas right now. It’s kind of cute, Harrington.”

“Thank you.”

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, his face pink from your compliment, before rushing into the living room where you hear Charlie barking as he’s once again joined by his new best friend. You reach over to tap Steve’s phone, where Spotify is already open from the car ride, and hit ‘play,’ Leon Bridges the background music to your cooking in the kitchen and Steve’s laughter as he crawls on his hands and knees to rub Charlie’s stomach on the floor.

Perfect.

It’s about as perfect as a day could be.

And later, as you sit together in the dining room, with Charlie sitting patiently in the corner, and talk about the evening, you start to think maybe being married to Steve Harrington for three years will be a little more difficult than you imagined it would be.

Because the feelings stirring in your chest are beyond that of friendship.

No—there’s a suddenness to the clarity of your realization that you like your husband. And the sinking reality that this is merely transactional.

In three years you’ll go your separate ways. Just as you both intended months ago at that coffee shop table.

“You’re overthinking again,” Steve points out, reaching over to center your engagement ring on your left hand. His thumb lingers over the diamonds. “I was telling you about the benefit gala in a few weeks.”

“Oh,” you mutter tiredly. “Sorry. Yeah, uhm, I’ll go. Obviously. It’s part of our arrangement.”

“If you don’t want to go with me…”

“No, I’ll go,” you say, taking a sip of your wine glass. “Black tie dinner event, I’m assuming?”

“Buy yourself a new dress kind of event, yeah.”

“Okay, yeah.”

You nod.

It’ll be October.

Approaching four months into your agreement. Time is already flying.

“Our first big event as a couple outside of our wedding,” you state plainly, gathering your things and Steve’s as you rise to your feet. He grabs the wine glasses and follows you down the hall to your kitchen, dumping all your dirty pasta plates inside. “Anyone I should know or be aware of when we’re there?”

“It’s a lot of partners in the company. Some celebrities, actors, musicians, models. Eddie will be there—he’s been invited. It’s a little bit of everyone. This time they’ve organized donations for a shelter for homeless youth in the city.” He hands you your wine glass, peering into your eyes. Noting your lingering hesitance from your overthinking once more, he continues, “I can cancel you as my plus one. Say you’re not feeling well—”

“No,” you place a hand on his sternum. Pause when you realize what you’ve done. He trails his eyes south where you touch. You don’t move away. “I love the purpose of the benefit. I want to be there. I-I want to go with you.”

“Good,” he says, stepping closer. You could reach out and touch the outline of his jaw like this. The lines of his perfect nose. “Because I want you there with me.”

You don’t miss the way his stare lingers on your face, or the timber of his voice. The darkness in the depths of his eyes. How the weight of his chest against your palm as he pushes forward has it stuck as a barrier between the two of you. Mere inches of separation.

It’s confusing, maddening, and terrifying all the same.

Two years and nine months.

You’ve got this.

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x reader #fake husband!steve harrington #steve harrington modern au #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

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teal-fiend · 17 days

Text

an observer who has perfected the craft of pushing people into predator mode.

word count: 2600

You were hanging out with this guy all day. You hadn't known each other for that long, a few months. and you still didn't know; were you just going to be friends? Or was it going to be romantic? You didn't mind either way, really. Although you would have liked clarification. But he seemed genuinely interested in you; you had shared interests, and it was just easy being with him - not in a bad way. it was just effortless in a way that was refreshing.

You spent the day out and about; walking around, you got lunch together earlier, but a few hours passed and now you were going back to his house

you expected a kiss, but instead he puts a hand on your stomach. Strange, but not entirely unwanted.

"Are you hungry?" he asked

"Um, yeah, I suppose."

You were starting to get hungry; it was time for afternoon tea, or an early dinner.

"Do you mind?" He asked softly. You muttered a no, you didn't mind. He petted your stomach gently, scoping it out, it seemed like. You felt him gently poke at your soft middle, moving briefly to feel either side of your hips, before returning to the belly area.

You looked to his face and he was concentrated, almost with a medical focus. You felt your face flush with the precise attention you were getting. But you also wanted to ask him what the hell he was up to.

Soon he looked up at you, your eyes met, his expression was neutral, like this was a normal thing for him. He asked you if you wanted a belly rub. You though that was what he just did. But you had no reason to refuse, and now you were curious - you wanted to see where this was going. So you agreed.

He led you over to a kind of couch-chair, that he encouraged you to seat yourself in. He guided you to lie back, making sure you were comfortable. Then he went back to what he was doing, pressing lightly on your stomach.

He worked in on your belly, kneading down on it with some force, but not a painful amount. When he got lower down, on your intestines, you felt some pressure.

"This is your lunch," he pointed out, poking at a firm spot under your skin. It was, you remembered the time the two of your spent at the cafe earlier. You didn't think that he'd be massaging your stomach later

you blushed, unsure of his motivations still. He began working on that spot, and you did feel some release of pressure, accompanied by a gurgle as the food moved down your digestive tract.

"What are you doing?" You asked, on the verge of mild annoyance from his lack of an explanation.

"I'm making room," he said simply.

...

You could piece things together. He probably had figured out that you were a pred. And he probably wanted to feed you. prey.

But how did he know? Was it really that obvious? You felt your face heat with embarrassment. How many people knew just by seeing you? How many people knew but never brought it up out of courtesy?

Anyway, You should have probably told him that you don't really eat prey. Not that often anyway; you definitely weren't hungry enough right now.

"Do you mind if I...?" He touched the corner of my mouth. You told him again, no, go ahead. He parted your lips carefully with his fingers, with the confidence and expertise of a dentist, he inspected your teeth. He pressed down on their points; you heard him hum, as if in confirmation. A practiced eye could tell a predator by the teeth. The canines tended to be longer, yours weren't, but your other teeth were of a certain thickness and sharpness that was indicative of a predator; your molars had a pointedness, similar to a dog's. Supposedly, this would help in holding down on prey as it was eaten.

You felt his fingers graze overtop of them, and you salivated at the taste. When he removed his hands, you closed your mouth and swallowed.

"Look," you said, "I'm not all that hungry. Well, not that kind of hungry"

"Your body is ready for prey" He explained, "You haven't eaten in a couple weeks at least."

"I just had lunch a few hours ago."

"I mean, you haven't eaten prey. I've been with you almost every day this year, and although you might be able to hide it well, I know it's been a while."

You can still taste his flesh on your teeth, you lick your teeth and swallow again.

"Sorry," he said, sounding genuine, "you're probably going to feel pretty hungry in a minute. but if you don't want prey, I have regular food in my fridge - or I can uber something if you want-"

"Why would I be hungry?" You did feel a little hungry now. But not... not that hungry...

"I mean," He started sheepishly, "the belly rub; your stomach is awake now, and your small intestine is empty too."

"Okay-"

"- and the hands in your mouth thing; you've had a taste of prey now, so your body's going to start preparing to consume that."

hmm.

"And talking about eating - specifically talking about eating prey, it can kind of help with releasing those predator hormones that come out before you consume prey."

He continues, "not to mention, we were walking around the park all day, that amount of exercise will also, um, stimulate appetite."

"You've got this down to a science," you say.

He smiles, but tries to hide it, "yeah, sorry. Yeah, I guess I do. But it's not like that-"

"You said you have food?"

He shows you to the kitchen

You go into his fridge, and take out a stick of celery. you crunch on it aggressively, like you're biting apart someone's arm. It falls into your stomach sadly, and you feel an angry clench in your middle. It doesn't want that kind of food anymore.

You feel a little light-headed, a little dizzy, your gaze snaps back to this guy. He caused this, it's his fault.

he looks a little scared as you glare at him. Good. You feel a swell of pride or righteous justice, but then you feel sad. You like him, you don't want to scare him. You don't want to mess this up. but he's the one that messed it up

"What made you so sure that I wouldn't eat you?" You ask

He opens his mouth, but seems lost for words. He whispers "please don't...?"

There's a reason you don't often engage with your predatory side; it's very hard for you to control.

He didn't know that, but should this be a mistake that costs his life? Your stomach is growling now, you put a hand over it, to silence it or comfort it.

"Do you have prey?" You ask through gritted teeth, "Besides yourself?"

"Yes! Yes," He says, "I'll be right back." He rushes off, almost quick enough for you to want to chase after him. But you stay where you are, your hand now gripping the countertop because it's the only thing keeping you in place

three people enter the room, it's him and someone you know to be his friend. The third person you do not know

your predator brain immediately feels excitement. three entire prey! all for you to eat up. You could run to the front door and lock it, then you could chase down each one of them - it would be so much food.

You remind yourself that you aren't even capable of eating that much. You try to be more present in the moment, you realise that someone had asked you something, but you weren't paying attention.

One of the prey speaks, "Never mind, I'll see you later," they say to each other. Then one prey walks out of the front door. You feel disappointed - you should have locked it. Now there are only two of them. Still, you've never eaten two at once.

One of them approaches you. you feel adrenaline building as they get closer - it's not even running away.

But no, no, this is not the one you're supposed to eat. "Are you alright?" He asks.

You can't even begin to broach the question. "I'm hungry," you respond, which is true. More true than the words can express.

He nods. With more confidence than he should have, he takes your arm, and guides you into the living room.

Soon, the prey's hands are in your mouth. You're gulping them down ravenously, animalistically. You haven't consumed prey in a long while; it's good to be back.

"good, eat, eat up" he says gently

As you swallow, you feel a relief from the mania of hunger. Your anger dissipates too, somewhat.

Him encouraging you feels good; in the past, people have ran away in fear. But he stays by you, even helping push the prey down your throat when you get stuck.

It's a lot, eating prey. it's a big mission. You feel your unaccustomed stomach stretch many times past it's usual capacity, it's shocking to your mind, but it happens. You feel your whole being sigh and melt as the prey sinks into your tummy. Your observer isn't quick enough to help you as you fall to the ground, unused to the new weight

He kneels beside you, saying some kind of affirmation

Do you still want to eat him? You feel the exploding fullness of your stomach. You have to breathe shallowly, because the prey is squashed against your lungs. No, this is quite enough.

He helps you up onto the couch chair that you were seated on before all this started. Now the lunch you had earlier has been completely pushed aside by this new, finer meal.

Each breath you take is difficult. Inhaling causes your stomach to just feel even tighter. You give yourself a moment to try to adjust. You will, eventually.

He's watching you lying there, apprehension still fidgeting in his eyebrows. You reach out for his hand, and you put it on top of your stomach. He smooths his hand over your skin and you can't help but wheeze.

A belly massage feels much different now. Every bit of pressure causes electricity that courses through the entire shape of your stomach, and that flows into your whole body, flushing into your limbs, and sedating you.

It's relaxing, he knows what he's doing, you can tell, with the way he dances with the contours of your abdomen. You hear him sigh with relief as you relax, as he says, "there's a good pred, just relax and digest now."

Right, you forgot. You blink your eyes open and place your hands on each side of your middle. You do have a unique ability, which is that your stomach is happy to hold the prey inside it without digesting, for a few hours at least, until it gets restless, then it will start on it's own unless you specifically resist. It's kind of lucky for you, because although you aren't great at stopping yourself from consuming prey once you get it into your head that you should, you do at least have a window of opportunity where you can reverse the decision, which is not something everyone can say for themselves.

But anyway, since you want to get this prey digested sooner rather than later, you think you should get started now. You watch the gentle movements of the prey inside your stomach. You stroke back and forth gently, and then you sigh and give your stomach permission.

Nothing happens. You frown. You look up at the observer. He doesn't seem to be aware of the situation. He notices you looking at him and tilts his head.

"My stomach doesn't want to digest," you explain

"Oh! interesting," he says. "I guess you don't have to?"

"No," you say, "I want to."

He gives you a confused look. You sigh.

"I don't know, it's being stubborn. It might take a while."

"So your stomach can like, purposefully delay digesting?"

"Yeah, I mean, look, the prey isn't really moving around at all; if I was digesting them, there'd be a lot more wriggling - you know."

"yeah, you're right." he says inquisitively, "I've never heard of this happening before."

"It's fine, it'll happen eventually."

"Alright, you can just relax then, no need to digest," he pats your stomach supportively.

He goes back to massaging your stomach, which does feel good. Your eyelids become heavy, and you yawn. He asks you if you want to go to bed; he has a spare bedroom now, you can sleep in a proper bed if you need. No, you assure him, it's alright for now. You do ask him to dim the lights though, which he does.

He presses into your belly again, kneading into the solid form inside in a uniquely pleasing manner. You can't help but grin slightly. Your predator brain is chuffed. a good belly rub is something it enjoys very much. It likes to be fed, and it likes to be attended to. You scrunch your toes. You feel warm and fuzzy. He's treating you very well.

You put your attention on the specific place where his hand glides over your skin, you follow the movements and patterns, it's like listening to music. you feel his hand on your skin, the warmth, you feel the prey pressed against the taut walls of your stomach. you think about how he is in a way, really rubbing against the prey, and your skin is just the thing between. But the idea of him rubbing on the prey, to help encourage the stomach to digest - he's rubbing against the prey to help break it down, really. He's trying to get you to digest it. He's probably using techniques that he knows will be the most effective for digestion.

For some reason, this thought is what convinces your stomach. A glowing feeling of heat starts under your skin. You groan softly. You melt deeper into the chair. A few moments later and your prey starts to get agitated. you smile as you imagine your stomach acids being released with each desperate kick against the walls of your tummy. It's ironic really. You feel a funny tickle inside, and a bit pressure that turns into a careless belch.

You had a long road ahead of you, though, suddenly you were exhausted by the task ahead.

"Oh, good for you," your observer notes, "you've started digesting haven't you?"

You grunt an mhmm.

"I think I'll get you into bed if you don't mind, to get you more comfortable."

That sounds good now, so you agree. Carefully, he guides you to your feet. You lean on him heavily, but he does alright. You feel your belly sag against your legs, and it swags gently as you walk, gurgling as the liquids are now swished around. You get to the bed, and lie down like it's the first time you've ever known the comfort of a mattress.

The observer helps put the blankets over you. "I think you could use a nap," he noticed, "but I'll be here when you wake up."

He brings you a glass of water, and turns the lights off, leaving you with your prey, which you curl up around deviously, eager to break them down for nutrients.

A part of you wants to think about the implications of this situation, and what your relationship with the observer has now become. But your predator brain hushes you and urges you into sleep. Your stomach needs it's moment to digest. You'll deal with the rest later

#long ass story?? for my standards #tw vore #digestion #v/ore #implied digestion #vore fic #fatal vore #vore digestion #soft vore #vore writing #v.ore #hunger #hunger kink #cw hunger #tw hunger #pred pov #voreblr

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gemini-sensei · 3 months

Text

Part 3 of "we'd make cute babies" ○ @sensei-venus

It actually took months before Reader gots pregnant. It was fun though because she and Hawk fuck like rabbits, all the fucking time. She ended up moving into his apartment and that gave them a lot more time to "make their cute babies." It became a little inside jokes between them and always made Reader giggle whenever it came up.

When they found out they were gonna have a baby, they were so excited. They had a celebratory dinner and gentle love making followed. He held her and kissed her after, long and sweet and full of love. "I still can't believe this is real... I'm having a kid with my best friend. That's the best feeling ever."

Not long after finding out they were pregnant, Hawk and Reader learn that Sam and Miguel were going to have a kid too. Reader and Sam gushed about it and giggled, making plans for their kids to be friends and have play dates and whatnot. Hawk and Miguel are kind of sidelined as the ladies bask in having a shared pregnancy experience. It's super cute though so the guys can't even be mad.

They share a lot of stuff, including sonogram pictures and going shopping. They've even planned to have a shared pregnancy photoshoot together. Miguel and Hawk joke They're secretly in love with each other, which prompts Reader to pounce Hawk and shower him with kisses. She becomes so lovey dovet while pregnant and he's absolutely loving her attention.

Then they learn that Reader is having twins and everything gets ramped up even more. She’s so excited. Her belly fat turns into a bump faster than expected due to all the space the twins need. Sam loves it and says all the time how she can't wait to have a bump. In the meantime, they start making cute little scrapbooks together of their pregnancies. Hawk and Miguel have so many pictures of them sitting together making an absolute mess of craft supplies. They love all the pictures of their girlfriends together, especially when they're bump to bump, which is just so cute.

They even help work on each other's nurseries. The guys help of course but they mostly build the furniture while the ladies paint the rooms. Hawk bought himself and Reader a nice little house when they found out they were having twins. When it was just one baby, the apartment was fine but it wasn't bit enough for twins. So they paint the twins' nursery dual tones; Reader is covered in yellow paint and Sam has somehow gotten green handprints all over her overalls. The next day they go to Sam and Miguel's house to paint the nursery for their little boy; it's going to be blue with black accents. The guys get so good at building furniture they're convinced they could build anything and the ladies are not so convinced.

As the months go by, they have their baby showers and photoshoots. They do their joint photoshoot and then their individual ones. Then Reader is so big, she needs a little more rest than Sam. So Sam comes over to her and Hawk's house a lot.

She's actually there when Reader goes into labor a few days before she was supposed to go to the hospital. The guys are at work and so it's up to Sam to take Reader to the hospital. Being the badass she is, Sam gets her there of course. Some of the hospital staff are a little surprised that a pregnant lady brought another pregnant lady to the hospital but nevertheless get them a room. Sam is by her side until Hawk gets there. Miguel is right behind him, nervous because he doesn't want the stress of the situation to send Sam into early labor but she's cool as a cucumber. She's fine.

A few hours later, Reader and Hawk have two cute babies. The cutest babies ever.

The hospital bed isn't all that big but it's big enough that Hawk can lay beside Reader with their daughter laid on his chest while Reader has their son laid on hers. They're such a cute couple and Sam makes sure to take a lot of pictures of them together when she and Miguel are let back into the room.

Hawk and Reader are just happy to have their little family and those cute little babies he promised her.

And in a few weeks, theor babies are gonna have their first friend 💖

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moonlightspencie · 5 months

Text

locked it down

part 12 of ‘the sweetest con’

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: the last part before the epilogue!

Six months.

Six months of being together. Laughing together. Being happy together.

Six months that signified something: I had to report our relationship to the bureau.

It was a terrifying ordeal, to put it lightly. I didn’t get fired, which had me thankful beyond belief, but I did get a scolding and a temporary suspension for not notifying them of such sooner. And a threat that she might have to move to a new unit. But, after much convincing from her, we decided that anything was worth it if we were together.

And it was so worth it.

Half a year doesn’t feel like a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like everything with her. Plus, we finally got to officially tell the entire team, and of course, they were thrilled beyond belief.

Dave insisted that we all go to his house for dinner to celebrate our milestone, and despite my protests, she gave an emphatic ‘yes’ for both of us. We sat around the dining room table, talking about anything and everything that didn’t have to do with work. It felt like one of those times I knew I was in trouble with her in the beginning. But this time, I didn’t have to pretend that I wasn’t hopelessly head-over-heels for her. Cheers erupted from the team anytime we showed any affection towards each other, much to her delight. She adored the sweet attention we were getting from our friends, and part of me couldn’t help but smile along with her every time she brightened up at their comments.

“Told you this would work out fine,” she whispered to me at the table, glancing around at everyone.

They were currently preoccupied with the news of Reid taking somebody on a date, taking the pressure and attention off of the two of us. I smiled down at her, not bothering to hide it.

“You’ve proved me wrong once again,” I say, huffing a dramatic sigh playfully. “You’ve got to stop being right about everything. It’s not fair.”

“I was born to be a genius, what can I say?” she said with a cheeky smile. “You love it anyways.”

“Mm. I don’t know about that,” I start with a quirked brow. “But I do love you.”

“Even better,” she whispered, leaning into me.

I couldn’t help but smile as she kissed me softly, letting it linger a bit longer than she had the rest of the night considering nobody was looking at us. Or so we thought.

“You two are so sweet,” Penelope gushed, trying to keep her voice down as she grinned at us. “I’m so happy you’re together. I’ve never seen either of you look so happy.”

I saw her smile at Garcia’s words, leaning her head against my shoulder.

I hummed. “I got very lucky.”

We finished dinner a couple of hours later, and of course, Dave had to make a point to pull out some expensive bottle of wine as we sat in the living room.

He held up his glass. “To our two favorite lovebirds. Now, we don’t all have to pretend we don’t see them staring at each other like they want rip one another's clothes off.”

She snorted a laugh next to me. “Oh, please. At work? I’d never.”

We all laughed at her comment, my cheeks flushing a little, and then drank to our apparent good fortune. I listened in as the team chatted for another couple of hours, content to only sprinkle in a comment here or there.

She leaned into me eventually. “Did you ever think we’d be here a few years ago?”

I laughed. “No. I didn’t think we’d be here this time last year. I’m still trying to figure out why you fell for me, of all people.”

She fell quiet, merely smiling at me for a few moments, staring at me with those pretty, sparkling eyes of hers. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she said at last, voice quiet. “I couldn’t imagine not falling for you. I’m just happy you felt the same way.”

I hummed another small laugh, kissing her. I couldn’t hold back anymore. We only broke apart when she started laughing at the cheers that once again erupted from the group.

We went back to my apartment that night, hand in hand as we walked up the stairs together.

“I’m so happy we finally told them,” she said as I pulled my keys out.

I got the key in the door, opening it for her and disarming the alarm. I tossed down my keys and jacket.

“Yeah. So glad they get to relentlessly make fun of us,” I replied.

She laugh, walking up to me and putting her arms around my neck.

“You love it and you know it,” she said, a soft kiss on my lips between words. “They make fun because they care. And you adore all of them for it. You can’t hide that from me.”

I shook my head with a lovesick smile, leaning in to kiss her once again, then took her hand to lead her to the couch.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She raised her brows, sitting next to me. “Uh oh.”

“Stop it,” I said softly with a smile. “I… Well, we’ve been together for a while. I love you, you know that. And I love spending all my time with you, but sometimes that’s hard when we live so far apart.”

“My apartment is like fifteen minutes away on a busy day,” she laughed.

“Too far,” I deadpanned. “I just— If I asked you to move in with me, would you think I was totally insane?”

Her small grin turned into a full smile. “Yeah?”

I smiled back, nodding. “Yeah. I get more time with you, and… Honestly, I’ve already mentioned it to Jack and he loves the idea of having more sleepovers with you. Don’t want to disappoint him, now, do we?”

“Oh, definitely not,” she shook her head seriously, hiding a smile. “I almost have to now, don’t I? If Jack says I should.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

She smiled again, tackling me onto the couch cushions with a tight hug. I laugh as she started pressing soft kisses all over my face.

“I love you. You know that?” she asked.

I nodded. “I know.”

She stared at me for another moment, then kissed me once more for good measure.

“I’m serious, though, Jack is expected a sleepover every night that he’s home with us.”

She raised a brow. “Guess I should move in pretty fast then, huh?”

“If we don't want to face his wrath, yes. I’d recommend it.”

“It’s a good thing we have the day off tomorrow, then, isn’t it?”

I smiled. “Yeah. Great coincidence.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “What if I had said no?”

“I knew you’d say yes.”

“How?”

I smirked at her, quiet for a moment before I reigned in the smile to look at her seriously.

“I’m a really great profiler.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner reader insert #aaron hotchner fanfic #the sweetest con #criminal minds

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s1ater · 2 years

Text

crybaby.

pairings. louis partridge x fem!reader

about. you’ve been hurt by louis many times, but you don’t want to let him go.

warnings. foul language, lil millie slander 😁, crybaby moment (not bad)

ricky rocks. this story was written at different points in time so 😭 forgive if it don’t make sense

you should have let it be.

ignorance is bliss.

but you weren’t ignorant. you never were and never would be and louis knew that since day one, but he always chose to ignore it, always hoping your love for him would blind you enough to let things go.

but he mistakes your love for something it isn’t, and time after time it kicks him in the ass

11:45 am — y/n: dinner at my house at six

he really only got back to you at later hours of the day due to his life conducting of sleeping, drinking, and sometimes working out if he really wanted; which was rare and almost never till his boredom killed his brain.

4:27 pm — lou: got it.

he didn’t show up. you weren’t surprised, but you still had hoped you would have caught him at a time where he was feeling considerate. guess not.

you didn’t see him for awhile after that, mainly because you were pissed and wanted to give him the silent treatment. otherwise you usually would have been at his house and in his bed within the same day he ditched out on you. the only thing that was different this time was the fact that he also ditched out on your mother too.

it was always hard to explain your dynamic with louis to people, especially your own mother, and even as she loved him dearly, she hoped better for you and urged you to end things with him. you had thought about it many, many times, but it just never happened.

you were attached to him, no matter how many times he broke your heart.

he called a week later, a call you missed, but lucky for you he had left a voicemail.

“eh, love, i’m going to be away from the next couple of days, don’t wait up on me, alright?” he laughs and you smile shamelessly at the sound while it echoed out from your phone for a good second. “i know you will anyways, but yeah, see ya, love ya.” the message is close to cutting off until it seems he remembers something just seconds before he’s about to hang up. “sorry about the other night. tell your mother i love her and your house is the first stop when i get back.”

lie. you knew he would forget that promise, but at least he apologized this time.

lou was an interesting person to say the least; he had no problem saying i love you, he said it before you did, but he hated affection outside of closed doors. any of it, there was a rare chance to ever catch him in such a touchy mood around friends, family, and in public.

he was shitty at communication, but almost couldn’t go a day without you when in the same rural area. he liked to flaunt your relationship all over the internet but got fairly embarrassed whenever the two of you went out on dates.

it was borderline hell.

sometimes you wondered if he even liked you, and you almost doubted it if it weren’t for times when you hung out and the reassurance was there… until he left again. you felt anxious without him.

when you first ever met louis, you tried hard for him. you were always on your toes about how you looked, what you did, what you said—all to make sure no bumps were hit. you spent a significant amount of time crying in the beginning, still did.

“lou, i’m calling,” you bit your lip hard, wondering whether or not you should even be calling. “calling, just wondering if you’re alright, it’s been a week and i just haven’t heard from you… bye love, call me.”

please call me.

he didn’t call.

“louis, calling again, please pick up.”

no pick up.

“i’m starting to worry for you, love. just send a message or something, bye.”

no message.

“louis, i have your life360 location on, you bimbo, answer your fucking phone.”

oh you were crazy.

things escalated fast after you recalled that you had his location, where you immediately checked to see that he was exactly at his house... and then her house.

millie, of course.

you had always had speculation that there was something going on between the two of them ever sense you had first met her and she could barely stay away from him for more than a minute.

he always denied, but you didn’t trust it. especially not now. millie was one of the most flirty girls you had ever met; she spoke with her hands, and could barely keep hers off his arms or shoulders, and even face.

they way he spoke about her never eased your thoughts. it seemed like he didn’t like her, but yet he always found himself at her house whenever he wasn’t with you. it was a punch in the face.

“louis, this is the last time i’m going to call you. i can’t do this. i know what you want, and it’s not me anymore.”

you were cursing at yourself for giving up already, so easily; without a second thought—but the thing was, you had given him so much time. you just didn’t want to let him go, no matter what.

the knock on your door was the answer to your prayers; because two days later, there he stood on your doorstep, smiling softly.

you were losing your mind at the sight, surprised, even though you should have expected him.

“hi, love.”

“oh, louis,” your hand pressed against your forehead, your eyes stinging from embarrassment knowing damn well that the only reason he was here was because of the voicemails.

“don’t cry,” he stepped in without invitation, pulling you to him with a sympathetic smile, “you’re worked up over nothing, baby,”

“oh, my god,” you shook your head, “i’m sorry.” you could feel your heart aching.

“don’t be sorry,” the hand he didn’t have around your waist was pressed against your cheek. his smile was soft but pressed into a thin line, not knowing what to make of you. “don’t be a crybaby, you’re okay.”

crybaby.

“you break my heart sometimes, lou,” you had your head pressed in the crook of his neck, regaining your composure. he held you, rubbing circles on your back as you spoke lowly.

“i know, sweetheart.”

navigation.

@aliyahsutherland @ioveisabel @multifandom-obsessed @cryinginsanity @rebbyr @cc13723things @heyitsmeimdead @thehuntress09 @black-rose-29 @rrosecar @instabull @rudypankowisdaddy @lukewearingbeanies @kiramdd @highkeygolden @kitkat-mini @spencybear @w0nderr @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @i-love-scott-mccall @greengarsstuff @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @felixulvr @demigirl-with-problems @whoreforpsychopaths @siriusspuppyy @mxsmwndr

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thevestigeofvanillaan · 1 year

Note

If you are taking requests and you want to, would you be willing to reader gets dumped and best friend!Kyle is there to comfort you but it leads to much more…..

yes im taking requests! i would like to clear up that my requests are always open (unless on my navigation center it says otherwise). and that i only write for female (occasionally afab gn) readers x male characters (preferably the ones of which i have slots for on my navigation center). since this has been confusing, im just saying that now.

also thank you for the request, lovely!

he broke up with you, and that broke your effin heart.

and the first thing you could do was storm out of your now ex boyfriends house and drive over the speed limit to kyle's mom's place.. because you knew that's where he would be on sundays.

kyle is your best friend, you had no one else to go to.

tears streaming down your face you go up to his door and knock on it, trying your best to wipe away the tears and change your mood.

sheila opens the door with a big smile and pulls you into a hug, "hey baby! oh come in, come in!"

"hi sheila." you smile and wipe your damp cheeks. "is kyle home?"

she smiles as she looks down at you, "yes beautiful, he's in his room."

thanking sheila, who all your life felt like another mother to you, you walk over to kyle's room.

knocking lightly on the door he opens it, probably assuming it's someone from his family telling him to come hang out. his face softens at the look of your pretty little tear stained face.

"what happened, baby?" kyle takes your arm and pulls you into his room, closing the door behind you and bringing you to his bed. "what did he do to you now?"

you can't bear to look at kyle at the moment but you do. and you broke when you did, tears streaming down and you fall into his lap. "he broke up with me."

the worst part was that you believed he was going to be the one. and that's why you two moved in with eachother so now you have no where to live.

"what?" he's stunned, and rubs hands through your hair as you cuddle into one of his legs. "he broke up with you?"

you nod weakly into his leg. "baby, do you need anything? water or a snack or something? my mom is making dinner if you want to stay the night with me."

"can i stay with you for a while? so i can find a place to live?" you ask, sitting up to face kyle as your tears start to simmer down, you wipe your cheeks.

kyle smiles, "yeah." he kisses your forehead as he gets off the bed. "wanna come with me or stay here? i think dinner is done so i can get you a plate if you want."

"can i stay here?"

he nods and walks out of the room.

it's hot in his room, he always seemed to like it warm. you never did. you take off your shirt and find a tank top of his lying somewhere and sit back down.

soon kyle returns with two plates and brings one to you. "thank you."

there's silence for a little.

"do you know.. why?" kyle starts conversation.

you nod slowly. "no. but it's fine.. worst part is that i don't have a place to live."

"he was a douche, i hated.. hate him."

"i know." you giggle and finish your plate in silence.

"you can just put it on the floor ill get it all later. wanna lay down? watch a movie? smoke?" he smirks.

giggling and moving to get comfortable. "can i take my jeans off?" you ask, since they're uncomfortable.

kyle looks down at you and then nods. he sits beside you, rolling up and you pick a movie to watch.

the two of you smoke and talk for a couple hours and then finally decide to lay down. you cuddle into his chest and he wraps an arm around you.

one of your legs rest on top of him and you rub it up and down against him until you feel something.

"kyle? are you.. hard?" you ask almost innocently and he chuckles.

"i get like that when i'm high." he excuses and you sit up, him smirking up at you.

you move the blanket so that you could see his print in his shorts and without thinking, you bring a hand to it. maybe this was dumb.. yeah. but you just got broken up with, it's not like you're cheating. plus, it's your best friend kyle.

immediately you take your hand off because you did it impulsively to begin with but he takes your hand gently and places it back on. "it's okay." he smiles, "go ahead."

softly moving your hands to the top of his shorts you pull them down along with his boxers.

to be entirely honest, you didn't know what to do now.. i mean. wow. it was a sight for sore eyes and the things you would be doing had you done this with him before..

but you'd never done this with kyle before.

"come here." he takes you by your hips and leads you to straddle his thighs, taking both his hands and slowly rubbing them up your torso and over your breasts before slowly trailing back down. he plays with the bottom of the tank top before slowly pulling it up and over your head, revealing your bra.

kyle places his hands back on your hips and plays with the top of your panties before slowly moving them down. he strips you entirely of the little clothes you were wearing and helps you off of him, now laying below him as he kisses up and down your naked body.

"so beautiful.." kyle says between little pecks on your cheeks and he rubs your soft skin and he parts your thighs. he takes his hand to your cunt and slides it up the slit and gently rubs past your clit. "so wet too.. you're so wet baby." kyle smirks and looks at you, who's now smiling and biting your lip, moving one arm to play with your breast. "you want it?"

nodding and moving your body up so you're almost folded and your back is against his old bed frame. you moan as his fingers toy with your cunt before the head of his cock is soon pressing against your slit before sliding in with slight pain.

pain is pleasure in the moment and you moan loudly. "shh!!" he hushes you dramatically. "dude, if my mom finds out we're doing this here, she will kill me." kyle whispers with a small smile on his lips before kissing your neck and whispering into your ear sweet nothings as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

soft moans flow from your mouth and that only makes him want you more. "god, you sound so pretty for me."

"mm.. kyle please." you grab at his neck to pull him into you as his thrusts grow faster and harder as he becomes more desperate to get off.

his deep chuckle makes you clench your walls around him. "please, what, baby?"

"please.. harder please, fuck. wanna cum."

"yeah?" kyle chuckles and you repeat him and he starts to go harder, the squeaking of the bed had to be heard by the entire house but he didn't care. he just needed you, and clearly you needed him. "you wanna cum, baby? yeah?" he babies you and you whine at him.

"please.." you beg and grind yourself into him, clenching around him again and you await permission to finish.

and with that he's groaning aloud, "fuck.. cum with me. cum with me baby, cum with me, fuckkk.."

after that all was over you went to the bathroom and just sat on the floor, thinking over everything.

kyle knocks on the door. "can i come in?"

mumbling a yes he opens the door and sees you sitting down on the carpeted floor.

"do you want me to make you a bath?" he asks, kneeling down to your level.

nodding and looking up to him, you take your arms to his shoulders and neck and pull him in to kiss you.

"please don't make this a one time thing." you ask.

"no, baby. i don't want that, for either of us. i got you now, and i won't let you go."

#vanillaan #request #kyle south park #kyle broflovski headcanons #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski

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queenshelby · 1 year

Text

The Fourth Season (Part 13)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap (20 Years), Fluff, Angst, SMUT

Words: 6,178

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE! PRETTY PLEASE…

The following morning, you made you way to Dublin by train. The journey took about three and half hours and it was your best friend Emma who picked you up from the station.

You only had a small bag with you which you carried around town before the both of you made your way too Emma’s cousin’s house.

Emma’s cousin was currently in France and Emma was housesitting for her and, despite the fact that she was somewhat disappointed that you wouldn’t be spending the weekend with her, she was happy for you, knowing that you were staying at Cillian’s house for two nights.

It was the first time you were visiting him in his home and you had told Emma what you were planning to do tonight, for which she cautioned you not to get overly excited.

“The first time usually sucks. Trust me” was what she said and she was not the first one from whom you had heard horror stories about having sex for the very first time.

“I figure it would hurt, but surely it can’t be that bad” you told her, causing Emma to shake her head.

“It hurts, but the pain isn’t the problem. The problem is that it is all going to be very new for you both and every couple needs some time to explore each other before sex becomes enjoyable” Emma then said but you still believed that, perhaps, you were simply lucky as, with Cillian, you felt as though you were on a constant high. He was incredible in bed for what you could tell and he certainly looked after your needs.

“Well, I very much enjoyed everything we did so far. That’s why I want to take this next step” you told her, blushing, but you did not have to explain yourself any further than this.

“Hmm, then maybe your first time won’t be as bad as mine. Just relax. Have some wine and, most importantly, tell him how you feel. If you are nervous about it then he needs to know. He will understand and, if he doesn’t, then he isn’t worth it” Emma told you before looking through her cousin’s wardrobe.

“What are you doing?” you asked while watching her pull out some black dresses for you as well as a pair of high heels.

“Finding you something to wear tonight. Something sexy” Emma responded but you shook your head. You wanted to wear what you normally wore, a pair of jeans and a shirt. But then, you reconsidered your choice, seeing that you had already spent an absorbent amount of money on lingerie for tonight so your clothes should at least match.

“Okay, I will wear a dress, but no heels” you thus told your best friend who was quick to find one for you. It was a black dress which easily wrapped around your body. It was simple but chic and covered your lingerie nicely.

Unlike most days, you also applied some light make up and straightened your hair and, when at around five o‘clock Cillian texted you that he was making dinner and confirming your arrival for six, you smiled.

“He’s cooking” you told Emma who handed you a glass of wine in order to calm your nerves.

“Fuck, I should get myself a man his age. No one ever cooked for me before and I am starting to get rather jealous. Does he have any single friends you could introduce to me? Some who don’t act, perhaps?” she wanted to know before offering to drive you to Cillian’s house which, conveniently, was only ten minutes away.

Since it was raining, you accepted her offer and, at around twenty to six, you left Emma’s cousin’s house.

About ten minutes later, she pulled up in front of a large terrace building which was very well maintained. It was light grey with a blue door and large hedges at the front, preventing a direct view into the garden.

“Are you sure that this is it?” you asked surprised, seeing that the house Cillian lived in was much bigger than you had expected. You grew up in a small three-bedroom bungalow in the south of Cork and this place had at least twice as many bedrooms, probably several bathrooms too and, by what you could tell, at least one fireplace.

“It sure is” Emma confirmed while checking her satnav. “Now get out before I get pulled over in my rusty all old car. This area is too fucking fancy for me” she then went on to say as a joke, causing you to roll your eyes before jumping out into the rain.

“Thank you so much ” you told her as you popped open your umbrella and she blew you a kiss.

“Any time my love! Have fun!” she then said and, with that, you walked off through Cillian’s front yard before, finally, ringing the doorbell.

***

After ringing the door, you waited for a minute or two before, finally, Cillian opened it and smiled.

“You are early” he observed while, at the same time, he pulled you inside eagerly. His eyes went directly over your body and, whilst the dress you wore was modest, it defined your body well. It was sexy and yet elegant.

“I missed you” Cillian then said as, until now, you had not even spoken a word. Your nervousness was evident and, only after a minute had passed, you began to say something through a stammering voice while, at the same time, dropping your bag at the door.

“I missed you too. More than you could imagine” you smiled while, for some unknown reason, Cillian continued to stare at you in an unusual way. It was almost like he was surprised by your appearance and, perhaps, he didn’t expect you to dress up for the occasion.

‘What’s wrong?’ you eventually asked as he finally shut the door behind him and starred at you some more.

‘I am just admiring the view. You look absolutely stunning in this dress’ Cillian said before, finally, giving you a passionate kiss and taking you into his embrace gently.

Cillian’s sudden affection startled you even though you had been waiting for his lips to claim yours for two minutes already. As usual, his lips tasted sweet and felt like soft velvet against your own. He kissed you well and you gave into the kiss with ease. It was familiar and, if it wasn’t for the scent of freshly cooked pasta coming from his kitchen, you would have stood there and explored each other’s lips and tongues for a while.

‘Would you like some wine while you wait for me to finish cooking?” Cillian then asked after your lips drifted apart after what felt like an eternity.

“Yes please. I would love some wine” you said with a smile while Cillian took your hand and guided you towards the kitchen which, just like the rest of the house, looked immaculate.

It was a large Hampton style kitchen and even featured a Kitchen Aid, making you wonder whether he could bake as well.

Across from the kitchen was the dining room and across from the dining room you could get a glimpse of his living room as well, featuring a mixture of modern and retro style furniture.

“Red or white?” Cillian then asked and, just as you were mesmerised by your surroundings, you simply said “whatever you are having” to make it easier for him.

“Okay. Red it is then” he smiled while watching you contently before, finally, opening a bottle of Bordeaux and pouring each of you a glass from it.

The food he cooked smelled amazing and he even went through the trouble of lightening some candles for you. In the background there was some Jazz music playing and while Cillian finished plating up, you wandered through the dining room, looking at photographs of his children.

“Dinner is ready” you heard eventually but you did not react, causing Cillian to approach you from behind, placing a hand onto your hip gently. You were lost within your very own thoughts and Cillian quickly picked up on the fact that you were not yourself tonight. You were much quieter than usual and this worried him.

“Is everything alright?” he thus asked before planting a kiss onto your bare shoulder.

“Yes. I am fine. I am just nervous” you admitted, causing Cillian to run his soft hands over your arms.

“If this is about us sleeping with each other, then I can assure you that I am in no rush. We can wait for as long as you want” Cillian told you before making you turn around so that you would look at him.

“I want to. I told you that I do” you stammered while seeking out his deep blue eyes which, as usual, were nothing but reassuring and loving.

“I know what you told me, but it doesn’t matter. If you changed your mind then I am okay with it. I can wait. I love you and there is no pressure…” he then said and you nodded shyly.

“I know. But I want to do this. With you. It feels right” you then said after having built up some more courage.

“Show me to your bedroom” you then demanded suddenly and Cillian immediately began furrowing his eyebrows.

“Right now?” he chuckled. “What about dinner?” he then wanted to know while caressing your face gently.

“Can we eat after?” you asked nervously in response. “I don’t think I can eat before we…” you went on to say, but were interrupted quickly.

“We can eat whenever you want” Cillian told you before planting another kiss onto your lips.

“Good, then let me show you what I bought for you” you then said and, whilst you tried hard to come across seductively, you failed miserably.

“I am intrigued…care to show me?” Cillian said nonetheless and, before he could say anything else, you unwrapped your black dress and let it drop to the floor, thereby revealing your black lace lingerie to him.

“Holy Jesus…” then fell from his lips inadvertently, causing you to laugh. His reaction was unexpected but certainly encouraging.

“Do you like it?” you asked as you had never worn anything like this for a man before and, whilst you tried hard to look like a tease again, the expression on your face simply highlighted your shyness and nervousness in this moment.

“Was that a rhetorical question?” Cillian stammered in response before telling you that he has never seen anything sexier than you right now before.

He wanted you desperately. Touch you and feel you, every inch of your body and, with this in mind, he leaned towards you once more and pressed his lips onto yours for a passionate kiss.

As he kissed you, he brought you against his hard body, his erection trapped between you, and not having looked, but being able to feel it, you gasped.

‘Oh god, that didn’t take you long at all, You are so hard already’ you smirked as you ran your hand over his hard member, still covered by the denim of jeans.

‘I am always for you, because you are incredibly sexy’ Cillian whispered before he pressed his lips back onto yours in a haste while, at the same time, finally, guiding you upstairs towards his bedroom.

***

After less than a minute, you reached Cillian’s bedroom which, usurpingly, featured a very large bed in the middle of it. The interior of the room was simple but chic. It was nicely designed and the white sheets on the very large bed looked appealing and comfortable.

Looking at it nervously, you followed Cillian until you stood right in front of it. The piece of furniture on which you would finally loose your virginity that night. It was intense and nerves quickly got the better of you, which was something Cillian noticed when you began to shiver a little too visibly.

“We don’t have to…” Cillian thus said again but you quickly silenced him with your lips.

“I want to” you told him once more and, with that, Cillian picked you up, lifted your feet of the floor and carried you around, to the side of his bed.

You smiled at him tenderly, nuzzling his chin as you crossed the soft rug in front of his bed before he laid you down on the soft cotton sheets.

As he laid you down, he was exceedingly careful with you in doing so and it was the care he took with you always that made you feel sure about your decision to take this next step with him.

“You are beautiful” he then told you while watching you lie there, on the sheets, waiting for him while he undressed himself all the way down to his black coloured Calvin Klein briefs.

While he undressed, he looked at you like you were the only woman in the world and this, in itself, was heady and made you tremble a bit as you scooted into the centre of the mattress. Your cheeks betrayed your feelings, turning pink while you watched him climb right next to you and, just as he did, you felt his hands trace your jawline. His thumb gently rubbed your throat back and forth and then he leaned in for yet another passionate kiss.

As his lips explored your mouth, his hands travelled over your body. Everywhere they touched, he left behind goosebumps and chills, even though your skin felt it was on fire.

Eventually, Cillian moved his lips to your neck teasing you with new sensations, and you moaned. Then you felt his hand slide from your shoulder to your breast and this was a sensation you loved. He squeezed your flesh and a gasp escaped your mouth. You instinctively arched your back and pressed your mound into Cillian’s hand.

“Patience babe. We have all night” he reminded you and you felt him smile against your neck before he peppered you with more feather-soft kisses.

“Please Cillian. I just want you so much. This is all I have been thinking about for the past week” you told him in response, gaining more confidence, as you felt like he was taking it too slow and you tried to persuade him to pick up the pace by grinding your pelvis against his.

In response, Cillian chuckled into your ear. It was deep, soothing, and it set your blood on fire.

“That’s good, but we should still take it slow. This is going to be your first time and I don’t want to rush it. I want you to enjoy it” Cillian said before nuzzling on your neck again, causing you to giggle and moan all at the same time, while you pushed your core against his thigh once more for friction.

“Okay, then don’t rush it, but at least touch me. Please, I am begging you” you demanded, causing Cillian to groan lightly from the friction and building tension between you.

“You are so needy you know that?” Cillian teased and the sense of authority in his voice sent chills down your spine and caused a tingling sensation between your legs.

“Yes. I am needy for your touch, your lips, your cock, everything. Please. Just…please…” you begged, not knowing what you were begging for as the fear and doubt about what was going to happen between you tonight flew away like a dove released from its cage. You trusted him, more than you trusted anyone else before and you wanted him. All of him.

“Okay okay” Cillian chuckled before, soon enough, his hands travelled over your body, stopping to explore every inch of your skin. You were captivated by his touch. His fingers felt like a piece of heaven, warm, calming, and protective and he certainly took his time with you, kissing and touching you like this for ten minutes before making his next move.

"I think it is time for you to take this off now" Cillian then whispered in to your ear and all you were able to do by this point was to stammer out a quick “hmm” before Cillian helped you into a kneeling position on his bed, and then took possession of your lips again. His fingertips glided over your shoulders, your back, and your waist. He did this several times before he grabbed your ass and pulled you into a crushing hug. His embrace was warm. His strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around your delicate body. The world around you melted away as you squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end. His cock was pressed into your stomach and you rubbed up against it as you shifted your weight. You did this on purpose and a deep moan echoed through the room in response to your actions. Cillian’s cock twitched and patted against your stomach, causing you to smile and moan yourself.

"You can’t help yourself, can you?” Cillian said in response to which you shook your head.

“No, I can’t. I want you Cillian” you told him before, with one hand, he unhooked your bra and threw it off to the side leaving you bare before his eyes, except for your lace thong.

“Please” you gasped in response and Cillian’s gaze drifted over your body, slowly, with purpose, like he was trying to memorize every detail of your skin again.

“I love you” he told you once more and a slow blush inched its way across your face.

“I love you too” you told him as you brought your hands up to Cillian’s chest which is also when your hands began to tremble and your breathing came in short shallow gasps. Your vision began to blur as panic set in.

You were going to lose your virginity tonight and, as your brain was beginning to overload, you felt Cillian’s lips graze yours once more.

Then, his next words sounded so patient and loving, making you forget all about your worries once more. “We don’t have to go all the way tonight. I am happy to wait, you know that, right?” he told you once more, realising how nervous you were still, watching you tremble, and you nodded your head.

“I know. But I want to. I want to sleep with you” you said to Cillian before you reached up and ran your hands through the patch of hair he featured across his chest.

“Alright, but I need you to know that, if you change your mind, you can tell me, okay?” Cillian said and you nodded your head nervously again as your heart rate continued to accelerate.

The blood pounding in your ears was so loud, that you couldn't believe Cillian didn't hear it. Your body was hot. It felt like you had developed a fever. You struggled to breathe. Your lungs felt cramped and devoid of oxygen. Looking into his eyes made the experience more intense and, as you worked your hands over his body, the more substantive the situation became.

“God I love your freckles. They are everywhere” you then said after you had calmed your nerves a little more.

“I am not even going to comment on that” Cillian chuckled in response to your comment about his freckles, but you ignored his words now as all your thoughts stopped and your hormones took over. His scent teased your senses and your fingers itched to drag your nails across his skin. Looking up into his face, you saw the spark of heated passion, burst into flames.

“I want you. Please” you said again as you placed your palms on Cillian’s shoulders, pressing your fingers into his flesh. You smiled as you heard a low hum sound resonating from his throat.

“And I want you too babe, but you need to be patient” Cillian groaned as you ran your hands up his arms, across his chest, and down his stomach. You loved the way his muscles rippled under your fingers. His freckled pale skin was warm and smooth as it conformed to his firm body.

Possessed by need and desire, you leaned forward and kissed his shoulder. Your lips tingled at the contact. You felt his body shudder in response. His head fell back and a moan passed through his lips. You began to kiss him everywhere you could touch and he did the same with you. The more he reacted, the more powerful you felt. You enjoyed this new feeling, this high, that was developing as you listened to his sighs, moans, and the change in breathing. Electric tingles danced through your system as his muscles flexed under your touch. You needed more of this drug, you needed more of him.

Eventually, you kissed his nipple, causing Cillian to curse.

“Fuck, that feels nice” he said before wrapping his hands around your waist and then all patience went out of the window.

Cillian crushed his lips against yours and pulled you closer to him. Passion exploded around you enhancing your senses. Everything seemed more enhanced: His skin hotter, his taste sweeter, his breathing louder, and his smell stronger. Your nails scratched at his back, causing him to suck in air. He left your mouth and kissed the side of your neck. Oh god, that felt so good. Warmth spread over your body prickling your skin and an aching pulse began to develop between your legs.

Cillian pulled back and stepped off the bed. Your head was too fuzzy to comprehend what he was doing. You whined and reached for him. He just smiled and pushed down his briefs, letting them fall to the floor.

Whilst you had seen him naked before, you could not get over how breathtaking, strong and lean he was. His cock was fully erect, standing to attention, and when Cillian started to crawl back onto the bed, you felt your nerves slowly beginning to build back up.

Noticing the change in emotions, Cillian said "it’s okay, we can stop at any time" before he started to kiss you once more. Soon, you started to relax and you deepened the kiss.

Cillian grabbed one of your breasts and gently squeezed it. Your head fell back as you sighed out loud. He rolled your mound between his talented fingers as he peppered your neck and shoulders with more soft kisses.

You felt his free hand slide down your back. He slowly started squeezing your ass cheeks. Using his thumb, he pressed down and rubbed it in a circular motion, massaging your muscles within. Without thinking, you grabbed his cock slightly squeezed it as your hand glided up and down his shaft. His whole body went still as he released a groan. His head landed on your shoulder and he was taking long deep breaths.

“Fuck, I love when you touch me like this” he said and you continued to glide your hand up and down his shaft. It was hard, long, and hot to the touch, but it was also soft and smooth. Just perfect.

You continued to play with him for several minutes, switching speeds, applying different pressures to your squeezes, changing the positions of your hand. You were so enthralled in what you were doing to Cillian, that you hadn't noticed that he had removed your panties.

But then, suddenly, a violent current of electricity shot through your body as Cillian started to rub your clit.

“Oh god, fuck” you shouted out grabbing his shoulders to maintain your balance. Your senses were overloaded already even though he had done this to you before on a few occasions.

You were hot, your muscles tense, and you felt like your blood had developed a zing. The aching pulse between your legs now felt like a rapid beating of a drum. It was causing your heart to race and your lungs to malfunction. Cillian kissed your temple and continued stroking. Your mind went blank, you could not think, you could not concentrate. You could only feel the pleasure that came in sharp sudden waves. You started to whimper and your body began to shake, you closed your eyes and just leaned on Cillian. Then you felt Cillian insert a finger into your pussy, this time deeper than ever before, and you could not find the words to describe how good it felt, except that it eased your aching need just a little.

"Fuck" Cillian groaned, his eyes closing. "You are so wet and tight" he breathed. Opening his eyes, he captured your mouth, kissing you as he eased a second finger inside. His kisses were different now, more demanding, and urgent, leaving you desperate for more. You felt his fingers pull out and then plunge back into you.

He began to finger you over and over again and you moaned against his lips as you felt a pressure building inside of you. As usual, you didn't understand the sensitivity he was creating as he ran his thumb over your clit and drove his fingers deep within you. It was just something that drove you wild, so you dug your nails into the skin of his shoulders in an attempt to ease the pressure forming in your stomach.

Unfortunately though, just like the last time he teased you, nothing seemed to work. You pulled back from his lips and tried to breathe. The way he watched your face gripped at your heart and made everything seem more profound.

"Cum for me babe" he whispered staring into your eyes. Those words combined with the look he gave you were so powerful that the pressure inside you exploded. You screamed out as wave after wave of pleasure came crashing forth. Your vision began to blur and a rushing sound filled your ears. Your body started to jerk in time with the waves of pleasure that now spread through your body.

Cillian groaned as your pussy strongly gripped his fingers. He continued to finger fuck you until your body began to calm down. Your orgasm was so strong that it took everything out of you and you slumped against Cillian, unable to kneel with him on the bed.

Cillian pulled his fingers out of you and you were surprised at how empty you felt. You wanted to feel him inside of you now. You needed all of him and, thus, you began to beg.

“I am ready. Please. I want your cock inside of me” you whimpered, needing to feel more of him. The thought of him penetrating you with his cock drove you crazy now and, finally, he gave into your demands.

“Okay, but like I said, if you want me to stop, just to tell me” Cillian said as he climbed in between your legs and reached for his bedside table draw which was where he kept the packet of condoms he bought a few days ago when you texted him that you wanted to have sex with him.

“What are you doing?” you asked and, before you could even finish your question, Cillian answered with a smile having formed across his face. You were so innocent and shy that he had to simply adore your ignorance when it came to sex.

“Getting a condom” he said, chuckling slightly, causing you to blush. Of course, condoms. You should have known that, you thought but little did he knew that you, too, came prepared.

“No, it’s fine. I started the pill a few days ago. We won’t need them” you then told him while looking at the packet of condoms in his hand. “I want feel you. Feel your skin. Your warmth. Your cum inside of me. Everything’ you then demanded through a stammering non-coherent voice and Cillian brushed some hair from your face and looked down at you with the tenderest expression you had ever seen.

“I must say that the thought alone of cumming inside of you is a huge turn on for me” he said before kissing you again and positioning himself at your entrance.

“For me too” you gasped while looking in between your bodies. You could feel the tip of his cock against your core. His skin felt as hot as yours and you moaned in response to the sensation alone.

“I am ready. Please” you then told him once more and Cillian nodded gently.

"Okay babe. I will be as gentle as I can but it might hurt” Cillian then told you as he slid his thumb over your cheek in a loving manner.

“I know. Just go slow, okay?” you told him while holding onto his shoulders.

“Okay” he reassured you before his lips touched yours in the sweetest kiss again while he began to push himself inside of you slowly.

“Oh god, it’s not going to fit” you then gasped against his lips. The intrusion felt intense and, feeling him stretch you as, slowly, he penetrated you in the most sensual way, was both arousing and painful for you.

“Do you want me to stop?” Cillian then asked as he observed the expression on your face. You were clearly in pain but you shook your head nonetheless, knowing that the worst was still to come. He had yet to break through your barrier and clung onto his shoulders in desperation to get it over and done with.

“No, don’t stop. Keep going. Please. Just do it” you demanded.

You closed your eyes in that moment and Cillian grabbed your right hand and entertained our fingers. Deepening your kiss, he tightened his hold on your body with his other arm and then pushed in more quickly this time, finally breaking through your hymen and entering you fully.

A sharp burning pain raced through your nerve endings tensing up your body. A small sob escaped your throat and tears filled your eyes in the aftershock.

"Just breathe and relax babe. The pain will fade" Cillian said nuzzling your neck in an attempt to distract you and you had to admit that you were immensely grateful that Cillian was so gentle and patient. You knew that, with James, it would not have been this way and knowing that made you feel safe.

“I won’t move until you tell me to. We can stay here all night like this until it feels good, alright?” Cillian then whispered, seeing how heavy your breathing had become and, with those words of reassurance, you finally opened your eyes and laid there, still, until that sharp pain faded to a dull ache.

“I love you” you told him once more, caressing his face as, eventually, you were left with a feeling of being full and stretched. It was a little uncomfortable, so you shifted your hips around trying to find a more comfortable position and, when you finally settled down, Cillian smiled.

“I love you too babe” he said before he slowly pulled out of you and then slowly pushed back in.

“Better now?” Cillian asked and a loud moan was all that left your lips in the first instance.

“Yes! Fuck! Do that again!” you then demanded and, after a quiet little chuckle and a somewhat deep groan, Cillian slid out and back in again and your heart started racing.

“Oh god. Yes. Again. More” you moaned almost instantly as shivers cascaded through your body and, after a few more thrusts, Cillian began to speed up just a little.

“Fuck, you are tight” he gasped and feeling him sliding in and out of you felt like he was always meant to be there, like a piece of yourself that had been lost until this moment.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you asked in between moans while holding onto Cillian’s arms and shoulders, leaving visible marks everywhere.

“It is. I am just not used to it. Not like this” Cillian cursed before groaning again and then kissing your neck once more.

“Well you have to get used to it…” you told him before your mind turned fussy again. “Oh my fucking god…’ you then moaned, lost in a trance as you reached behind him and grabbed his ass, pulling him in even deeper.

Your fingers danced over his cheeks, massaging them, squeezing them, encouraging him to go faster, go deeper. He was creating another rush, a high more intense than you experienced earlier. You wrapped your legs around his waist trying to pull yourself up to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck your cock feels so good. I feel so fucking full. This feeling of you being inside of me is insane. Oh god…” you moaned as tingles jolted everywhere our body touched or connected.

“You feel incredible babe. So wet and tight” Cillian groaned as you scratched at his back, bit his shoulder, and pulled at his hair.

"Cillian, please, more" you begged. He grunted at the sound of his name and then lifted your hips and drove into you deeper.

He was going so deep; it felt like he was pounding your cervix. It was a bittersweet feeling that radiated both pain and pleasure. Your moans became louder and higher pitched as he rocked your body. His grunts became deeper and wilder. The sound of pleasure that tore from his body, reached your core. You wanted to please him more than ever before. The pressure started to build in your stomach again and you called out Cillian's name over and over again. You were close, so very close. You took Cillian's face in your hands, and you whispered "I am close. I want you to cum inside me. I want to feel it. I want to feel your cum inside of me. Please. Let us cum together"

"Fuck," he yelled before increasing his speed again. Hearing those words coming from your lips were incredible and Cillian was now pounding into you harder. You began bouncing on the bed uncontrollably so you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on for the ride. His thrusts were becoming irregular and unfocused. You knew that he was close and, as you felt your pressure preparing to explode, you captured Cillian's mouth and pressed against his lips as your very own orgasm pulsed through you for the second time that night. Your screams and his grunts were swallowed up by your kiss. You felt his cock swell inside of you as he came in sync with you and you could most certainly feel it. His warm cum was flooding your stomach, like a torrent, filling you to the hilt and it was incredible. The best feeling in the world, being one with the man you love, in the most intimate way.

“Oh god” you gasped eventually, feeling the warmth and stickiness surrounding you both and, as your bodies began to calm down, Cillian and you stared at each other as you tried to catch your breath.

There was no need for words as everything you felt was enough. With much regret, he pulled out and moved to lie down at your side. Facing you, he pulled your body closer to him. You laid your head on that soft spot connecting his chest and shoulder. You draped your left arm over his stomach and tossed your left leg over his thigh. The fingers of his right hand entertained with your fingers that lay on his stomach. His left arm wrapped around your shoulders as his fingers played with your hair. You felt empty and sore, but also incredibly satisfied.

“If I knew that sex with you would feel so fucking good, I wouldn’t have waited so long to try it" you then giggled, causing Cillian to laugh.

“It was worth the wait though, wasn’t it?” Cillian then said before kissed your forehead and you looked up at him and smiled.

"Yeah, it was" you sighed before looking down on yourself and realising that you just ruined Cillian’s perfectly white sheets.

His eyebrows scrunched together, "What's wrong?" he asked sounding worried.

“I ruined your sheets” you told him, seeing a small red stain where you had been laying.

“They’ll be grand after a wash” Cillian chuckled before he kissed your lips softly and you smiled.

“Well, don’t wash them yet. The night is still young and I most certainly want to do this again after dinner… If you can…” you smiled and, this time around, you looked like a minx.

“You know I can. In fact, I can fuck you all night long if you want me to” Cillian teased before asking you whether you are not sore.

“I am sore, but I also want more” you teased until, suddenly, you heard the doorbell ring.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x oc #thomas shelby #Tommy Shelby #Peaky Blinders

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ficthots · 1 year

Text

Statute of Limitations

A/N: Cute lil turkey day fic. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ only.

Word Count: 7.4k+

The holidays can evoke many emotions that someone would not expect nor want. Thanksgiving was notorious for being the holiday where family members got in vicious spats over rivaling political ideologies. Christmas brought on dreaded yearning for loved ones who have since departed your life in one way or another. New Years held bouts of loneliness over your shoulders as you watched on as couples and strangers alike connected in a kiss to ring in the new year.

Many feelings that were not always welcome guests during this time of year. However, it was always easier to manage when you were surrounded by people who were in the same place you were in life. In fact, when it was your best friend, you wouldn’t even notice these waves of varying mental states because they were entertaining you and keeping you afloat.

More than afloat. Joyous. Elated. Hopeful. Content.

But that is to be discussed at a later time.

You were frantically running around the house, trying to make sure that everything was where it should be. That everything was going according to schedule. That everything was perfect. Because it was supposed to be. Had to be.

“Turkey will be done at five forty-five. Candles will be lit at five-forty. Bar area is stocked and ready. Name cards. Where are the name cards?” Your eyes darted up from your crumpled list that sat in your hands, pen marking off items as you mumbled out loud to yourself, beginning the search for the name cards.

His curly head bopped down the stairs, seeing you hunting around the house for what he already knew was in hands. He held up the brown paper, smile growing as he did. “Name cards? Got ‘em right here, hammy.” A breath of relief tumbled from your lips as you watched him go around the large dining table and place the cards where they were supposed to be.

You trailed behind him, slightly moving and adjusting them to be where they actually should have been. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed what you were doing, turning and facing you with his hands on his hips. “They looked just fine where they were.”

Wiping your hands on your pants after taking some lint off of a napkin, you weren’t looking at him as your eyes scanned the table for any other imperfections that you could immediately see. As you went to slightly move a pillar candle two inches to the left, his hand darted out and captured yours in his, drawing your attention to him.

He offered you a large smile, hands moving to cup your cheeks as he did. “Everyone’s going to be here within an hour, hammy. Why don’t you head upstairs and start getting ready, yeah? Your clothes are laid out on my bed, your bathroom stuff is on the counter, I can handle what’s left down here.” Reluctantly agreeing with him, his hands turning you around and in the direction of the stairs, you kept turning, not really ready to hand over the full responsibility of him taking over for the last forty-five minutes.

“Go!” He shouted, hands shooing you away, laughter following his words as you pouted your way up the stairs. Just like he said, your outfit was laid out across the bedding, your personal care items atop the counter in the bathroom, a fluffy towel hanging on the rack to greet you.

He knew you would be flustered with planning out every miniscule detail you could for this dinner so he took it upon himself to make sure the other aspects did not fall through the cracks, simply making sure you were taken care of.

Josh always made sure you were taken care of. That’s why he’s your best friend and whom you love the absolute most in the world. Truly, you could not imagine a life without the ball of sunshine that was Joshua by your side.

He had been in your life for years, originally meeting him through Danny, but there was something about him. You two meshed so well, becoming close in high school and hardly being separated from them on out.

As you all grew older, new traditions popped up and stuck with your small group. One of those traditions was the annual Thanksgiving supper. Each year was a rotation between the couples of the group. Each pairing hosted at their own home with an immaculate table scape and menu to accompany along with a new tradition that would happen at their home.

It was fun, lighthearted, and a reason for everyone to see one another during the holidays. Given you are one of the two singles in the group, the other being your best friend, the burden fell on your shoulders this year. A group text message revealed that everyone else had decided to partner you up and to be ready to host the soiree of the year at one of your houses.

Planning began immediately, beyond infuriated that everyone took pity on the two lonesome creatures of the posse and you decided that you were going to put them all to shame, hosting the best bash they had seen yet.

Josh was just along for the ride, happy to be included in whatever you needed from him. You had been staying at his house for the last two days as you prepped for the upcoming party, doing as much ahead of time as possible. He was there, right behind you, reminding you to take a breath, sit down, and eat some actual food every once in a while.

He knew how type a you could be, incredibly anal about the details of it all, because once you set your mind to it, he knew it was going to be done, sparing no expense of yourself. He had seen in the past how you could and would schedule your life down to the last second, wanting any and all control over any situations you found yourself in. Josh would watch as you would forget the littlest things to survive, like sleep, and would gently guide you into the direction he knew you needed to go. He would ensure that you were being taken care of. That’s who he is.

This wasn’t the first time he had seen you like this and he knew it would not be the last either. As long as he was there besides you, he would be happy as a clam to aid you in whatever way he knew how to. To make sure that you would slow down and enjoy what life was offering, tonight was going to be no different.

Josh wanted you to see what you had spent weeks obsessing over and notice how beautiful it had all turned out. Your goal had succeeded, this was going to the best gathering that had happened yet. All he wanted was for you to see that. To see how magnificent it was. How magnificent you were.

As he finished moving the chairs to where they needed to be, basting the turkey once more, playing the music you had meticulously picked out for the evening, he heard you come bounding down the stairs. He couldn’t help but beam at you, seeing how radiant you looked in only the dim lighting and candlelight from the room that set the table aglow.

Attempting to swallow his heart back down from his throat, a blush crept onto the apples of his cheeks as you smiled at him. He couldn’t hold your gaze any longer, eyes darting down to the record he held in his hand, hearing your gasp as you took in the space.

“It’s unbelievable, Josh. Look at this! Oh, it’s perfect,” you squealed out as you moved around the space, double checking whatever you could. As you checked the watch on your wrist for the time, your eyes went wide, shooting up in a panic at him.

“I basted the turkey four and a half minutes ago. It looks devine, hammy,” he could see the relief actually roll off your shoulders at that. A small grin took over your lips, a silent thank you being shared between the two of you.

When the first knock of the night came in, he watched you shoot up straight, hands clasping together in front of your chest, excitement tangible from you as you rushed around the table to link your arm through with his.

“Ready handsome?” You leaned into his side as you spoke out, head lightly resting against his own. He couldn’t respond to your words, only offering a quick nod as he moved you both to the door.

As he opened the door as dramatically as he could on the left, you still holding onto his arm, blocking the entryway so they couldn’t entirely see what was behind you both, he gave a large grin.

“Welcome one and all! We are so pleased you could join us at the twenty twenty two Thanksgiving celebration. Now, I hope you all came prepared to witness the best of the best because that is what we have offered you. Please, help yourself to the bar and chat amongst yourselves,” as Josh finished his small speech, everyone giggling at his words, the laughter stopped as soon as you both stepped out of the way.

Greenery was hung and wrapped around the wooden beams, candlelight danced on the walls, and no one could seem to figure out where to look first. You were beaming with pride as Josh shot you a quick wink, knowing all of your meticulous planning had turned out as immaculately as you had hoped it would.

Drinks were flowing right after and given that everyone hadn't really eaten anything but the hors d'oeuvres you had set out as everyone started mingling, your guests were growing tipsier by the minute. Just as you had planned.

As the dinner bell rang, signaling it was time for everyone to find their seats, a chorus of oo’s and ah’s flew around the room as Josh brought the turkey and ham to the table. Applause rang out into the room as you and your party partner thanked everyone, Josh pointing to you and speaking out that this was all your doing.

“Before we eat, we are ready to share our tradition that will happen at every Thanksgiving we are set to host.” You sipped your drink as you finished speaking, pointing to Josh across the table as he sat at the other head spot and urged him to start. Heads bounced back and forth between you both as you giggled out to him.

“This was Josh’s idea so I think it’s only fair he shares what it is and he has to start!” He rolled his eyes at your words, smirking into his glass as he did. “Fine, fine. Our tradition is that instead of everyone saying what they are thankful for this year you must divulge one secret! Statute of limitations applies to whatever is shared so there is immunity!” Eyes around the table went wide, some excitedly shouting out that they loved the idea, others collectively groaning with one another.

His smile grew, eyes going wide as he peered at you, clearing his throat as he finished his drink, standing from the table and over animatedly began telling his secret. “Once upon a time,” his brother groaned as he started, trying and failing to trip his sibling as he made his way around the table. “Come on, just tell your secret!”

Josh shushed him, flicking his ear as he did. “Shut up. It’s my turn to speak.” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, letting him continue his tale. Josh cleared his throat as loudly as he could, continuing on where he had started. “In a time far from the one we are in now,” he moved to stand directly behind his twin, hands landing on his shoulders as he did.

“I pretended to be this devilishly handsome fellow here,” he bent over, cheek smashed against cheek before standing back upright as quickly as he had knelt over, “To take out Jessica Park on a date where the entire time she thought I was my twin. I did however get lucky that night! It was quite weird hearing her moan out my brother's name whilst I was in bed with her, but I digress.” He plopped back in his seat, everyone laughing and howling at his confession, clapping and cheering for him.

Jake eyed his brother, set on murdering him in that moment from the sheer look he sent his way before he spoke up. “You knew I had a massive thing for her, you jackass.” Josh shrugged with a laugh as he poured himself a glass of wine. “Oh I am fully aware of that. She had a thing for you, not me, which is why I was you for the evening.” His lazy smile graced his face as you snickered behind your glass.

Josh clapped his hands together, eyeing the dining room table and its occupants before selecting the next person who needed to confess their secret.

Tears streamed down everyone's faces at the stories being shared. When Danny finished, he sipped his drink contents, a shrug accompanying his final words. “I swear it’s true.” He set his glass down on the table, surveying who was left and needed to share. His gaze fell to you, a smile taking over his face as he looked at you.

“Last, but certainly not least, my dearest friend. What is your secret?” You sighed, seeing the giddy look of Josh to see if he was going to discover some new information about you or if it was information he had already filed away in the folder about you in his head.

Looking out over your friends from behind your glass, you took one last swig for confidence, eyes setting on Jake as you set the glass down. You leaned forward on the table, seeing the unremarkable similarities between him and his twin, but noticing how insanely different they were. As the candlelight held their features, your heart swelled at the sight of Josh and the adoring look that graced his face as he waited with baited breath to hear what you were going to reveal.

Eyes falling back to his counterpart, you spoke out with a laugh. “Jakey, I am the one who hit your car, not Josh.” His eyes narrowed at you before turning his attention to his brother, Josh’s jaw hanging open at your words. Everyone sat in utter silence, waiting to hear what his reaction was going to be.

“No, Josh did. I saw him in the driver's seat.” You couldn’t contain your giggles, liquid courage assisting in your tale. “He switched seats with me. It was me,” Jake shook his head, cradling his face in his own hands as he roughly rubbed, a long groan following it. Everyone’s laughter picked up right after as his shoulders started to shake from his own laughing.

Josh stood, grabbing the carving knife as he did. “Alright, I think that is enough secrets for the next decade. Who wants turkey?” Plates were shoved in his face after his question, earning an exasperated sigh from the boy. “Wait your turn! Hammy, you first.”

When the last of the guests filed out of the house for the night, you collapsed into a heap on the couch, a yawn escaping your lips as you did. Josh couldn’t fight the smile that was taking over his face at the sight of you.

He lifted your legs, placing them tentatively in his lap as he did. He poked your cheek, leaning back on the couch, a sleepy smile taking over his face. “I would say that was a success. I don’t think I will be able to eat again for the rest of the week. Which is probably for the best since there aren’t any leftovers.” His hand rubbed along his slightly pooched stomach, rolling your eyes at his flair for the over dramatic.

“Thank you for the help, Joshy. It was a great night,” he shrugged, hand rubbing along the bare expanse of your calf, eyes slipping shut as he breathed out. “It was all you, ham. You did amazing. Seriously, the best one we’ve had yet. I heard Jita saying she wasn’t sure how she was going to top you next year,” you giggled at his words, happy that it had been such a hit.

“Can I ask you a question?” You hummed at him, letting him know he could continue on. “What other secrets do you have? I feel like I got cheated out of one because I already knew about the one you shared.” You peeked an eye open at him, seeing his excited gaze staring down at you.

You thought about it for a second, turning onto your back and staring at him. “Fine. But I get another secret from you. Deal?” He thought about it for a second before agreeing with you. You sighed in thought, trying to figure out what you could share with him.

A sheepish smile took over your face as you thought about what to say. “I have this coworker. I hate him. Ever since I met him he was super misogynistic towards me. Called me sweetheart, sugar, the whole nine yards at work. I decided that I had had enough of it and took it upon myself to secretly do things to annoy him every single day.” Laughter wracked your body at Josh’s shocked expression.

His own chuckles seeped into his words, hands still firmly planted on your legs. “What do you do to him?” You shrugged, thinking back to what you had done to him as of late. “I move his food and drinks in the fridge. Like I’ll hide them. I wear my badge as a lanyard because the rattling of it drives him insane. If he walks by me I’ll whisper his name out with some occasional name calling just loud enough for him to hear, but I act dumb when he asks me if I heard that. I also move his coffee cup throughout the office so he can never find it. Oh, one time I took all of the trash wrappers I could and placed them on his desk. Everyone else hates him too.”

Josh was hunched over in tears, snorts falling from his lips at your admission. Your snickers matched his as he calmed back down, wiping at his eyes. “Wow. That’s amazing. What are you going to do when he finds out?” You reached your hand out, pushing fallen curls from his forehead back up.

“I have you to beat him up for me,” his face went serious as your words settled over him. “Baby, you see me right? I mean I’d give it a shot, but I can make no promises here.” Your laughter roared over his voice, his own nervous giggles mixing. “I’m serious! How big is this guy?” You were trying to catch your breath at his words, hearing his worried tone seep out more than he would’ve liked to admit.

You poked him with your bare foot as you relaxed back into a calmer state. “Your turn. Another secret and make it a good one!” He drummed along your leg, searching his mind for a secret he had yet to share with you. It was difficult seeing as he shared every detail of his life with you that he possibly could, but as he settled on one, you watched guilt take him over.

“Alright, but I’m not very proud of this one, okay? When I was little I would steal money from my grandma,” your jaw fell slack at his words, eyes as big as saucers at his words. “No, no, it’s not as bad as that! She had this jug that she would put loose change in and I would take the change, bring it to her, and she would be so proud of me for saving change that she would exchange it for paper money, and I would get ice cream.” He scratched the back of his neck as he finished, clearly guilt ridden with what he would do as a child.

Being his best friend meant making it worse. “Wow, Josh, that’s horrible. I can’t believe you stole from your grandma. You’re going to hell for that, you know that right?” You could see how sad he was getting from sharing that secret, knowing that it was most likely one of his deepest and darkest secrets he ever had. It was adorable.

You sat up, moving to almost sit in his lap, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Joshy, I’m messing with you. You were a kid. It’s okay, I promise.” You were stifling laughter, his cheeks and the tips of his ears burned bright red as you leaned forward placing a quick peck to the tip of his nose.

Seeing that he was still feeling bad, you fought within yourself about telling him this next secret. “Okay. I’ll tell you one of my deepest secrets if you promise to keep it a secret, okay?” His eyes fell to you, nodding slowly as you removed your legs from his lap, sitting directly next to him as you got the courage to tell this. “You have to tell me another one first though.” He groaned, head hitting the back of the couch at your words.

His tongue darted out and wet his lips, deciding that in order to hear this juicy secret of yours he was going to have to share another one with you. He cleared his throat, trying to determine which direction this could go in. “When I was like fifteen I was watching dirty stuff on the computer,” you chuckled at his words, cutting him off as he spoke, “As one does.”

He nudged you with a laugh of his own. “Let me finish! Anyways, Sam came into the room and saw what I was watching, ran and told mom, mom came storming into the room pissed. I’m in a panic, knowing I need to come up with something quick and I do. I told her it was a popup on the computer and I couldn’t get it down.” You were gasping for air at his story, heads almost pushed together as his brilliant smile shown at you, happy to see you were enjoying his utter embarrassment from his teen years.

Playing with his fingers, he chuckled after seeing you weren't going to speak yet. “Your turn. Tell me a secret,” he was speaking softer, almost in a whisper as he came back to reality.

“No one knows this. Literally no one,” his brows furrowed, seeing how nervous you were getting, peeking his interest as you gnawed on your lip. “I almost didn’t graduate from college.” Josh’s eyes went wide, but as he went to speak you held your hand up to him. “That’s not even the worst of it.”

He settled back down, waiting for you to continue. “I was failing one of my classes. It was two weeks to graduation and the only way I was going to pass was if I got a two hundred percent on the final. So, I went to my professor's office hours to talk to him about what I could do to pass. This man was one of the most gorgeous men I have ever encountered before in my life. One thing led to another and I ended up sleeping with him.”

You had never seen such a shocked expression take over his face. You giggled at it, feeling a million pounds lighter after being able to share that with someone after all this time. “It wasn’t even for the grade, which is the crazy part. I did however end up graduating and walking two weeks later.” He started laughing with you, in awe of the confession you had just divulged.

Hearing that you had slept with one of your professors was a shock in itself, but he wasn’t sure why he felt a growing bulge in his pants. Imagining you with a professor, telling them you would do anything you could to pass the class and graduate. It was hot.

Adjusting himself as nonchalantly as he possibly could, you caught your breath, realizing how close to Josh you were in that second. His eyes darted down to your lips, smile still as prevalent as ever, dimples deep as happiness coursed through him at being able to share this space with you.

“It was bad. I shouldn’t have done it.” You whispered out, your breath fanning across his lips, seeing his pants grow tighter at your words. He shook his head, tongue moving across his bottom lip, “No you shouldn’t have.” His voice was huskier than before, going a touch deeper, lust fluttering with his words.

He was psyching himself out, almost unable to be sure if this was real, having wanted this for so long and you not feeling the same he wasn’t sure if this was real. If you were real at this moment.

Your smile was small, battling within yourself if you wanted to take this next step. Cross this threshold with him. For him. Josh had never shown true interest in you, you thought to yourself. Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through you that gave you an extra boost of confidence because you threw caution to the wind, leaning forward, lightly letting your lips feel his.

Not hesitating, he deepend it, hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling you to him and tongue pushing into your mouth with haste.

Whimpering into his mouth, feeling the plushness of his lips push back against your own, clawing at him to get him as close as possible. Swallowing each other in any and every way you possibly could.

Years of tension, angst, yearning had built up to this moment. This singular moment that you could have bursted into tears for. That you spent countless nights dreaming about.

About him.

It took all the strength you had to pull away from him, both heaving and watching the rise and fall of each other's chests. You wanted to give him once more chance, one more opportunity to turn this down. To think twice.

While you knew that this is what you had been craving since you were young, you couldn’t make that assumption for him. Your eyes danced across his features, his kiss swollen lips bright red as he eyed you in utter confusion.

“I’m going to go upstairs and change into my pajamas.” Was all you said to him. Squeezing his hand briefly, a silent telling of what you were asking of him.

Josh didn’t have a second thought in his mind. He watched you ascend the stairs, right into his room, as the door clicked behind you, he bounded up them two at a time to reach you.

There wasn’t a single possibility in which he would let this go. Let you go. He opened the door and saw your dress pooled around your feet, a breath of relief expelled from your lungs seeing that he in fact wanted this just as much as you, if not more.

He crossed the room to you, attacking your skin with his searing kisses. You had just caught your breath and instantaneously it had been knocked out of you as you felt his hands paw at you.

Your head lolled to the side, greeting him with the entire expanse of your neck. He nipped, sucked, and licked the soothing marks he was leaving behind. Wanting to create a lasting memory of tonight on you.

Knees hitting the edge of the bed, you sat, eyes boring into his as he stared down at you. Your doe-like eyes screamed at him all you had been wanting to say for years. His heart was doing somersaults in his chest.

Peeling off layer after layer of his clothes, you watched. Of course you had seen his naked torso. Plenty of times. Countless times.

But this was different.

Vastly different.

Seeing the pink tint that sat on his skin, how his chest rose and fell with short breaths, his stomach caved in as you touched his hip bone. It was the most intimate you could be.

His bulge greeted your hand as you moved it further south. Eyes slipping shut, lips parted, unable to watch your movements, too entranced in what you were doing to him.

Moving his briefs down, his hardened cock greeted you. The swollen and leaking tip, a bright pink that perfectly accompanied his lips, the few veins that trailed along the shaft, the kept bush at the base. He was gorgeous.

Taking him in for a brief moment as your hand firmly held him, you felt like you could cry tears of joy. This man was beautiful. A complete wonder.

You lightly traced the slit of his tip with your tongue, watching as his eyes fluttered behind closed eyelids. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you accepted him in the warm embrace of your mouth.

Relaxing your jaw to take as much of him as you could, he whimpered out, a cry escaping his lips at the feeling of bliss you gave him. It was almost painful how good it felt.

You moved up and down his length, hand working the base of him when you moved back towards the tip, his hand tangled in your locks, cradling the back of your head and guiding your motions.

Normally, Josh was a much more vocal partner, but given how in shock he was with what was happening before him, he was silent. Worried that if he spoke anything, he would either finish too fast or scare you off.

He eventually had to pull you off, growing too close to his release. “Not yet, please.” You smiled up at him and he could’ve had a heart attack right then. Seeing his cock in your hand, right next to the breathtaking smile you gave him, it was a true sight to see.

Pushing you to lay down flat on his sheets, he savored your naked frame that waited with anticipation for him. He didn’t want to make you wait. He didn’t want to wait any longer.

The head of his cock moved through your folds, and if he hadn’t held back, he was sure he would’ve bursted on you right then. He was like a teenager again, worried that he would cum too fast and ruin it all for you both.

As he pushed into you, the moan that left your lips was simply pornographic. It sent a shiver down his spine, knowing he was the one bringing those noises from you. He was who was bringing you to the verge of tears because of how amazing this felt as he thrusted in and out of you with an earth shattering pace.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to you, allowing him to sit even further in your tight heat. He stuttered, curls stuck to his damp forehead. “Cum in me, Joshy. I want you to cum in me pretty boy,” he finished immediately after, sending you into your own mind numbing orgasm.

Your body was in a constant tremor as you came back down, breath stuttering out of you, feeling your damp body sticking to his as he tried to gain the strength to open his eyes to see the beauty that was before him.

Neither of you said any words, his forehead nudged yours, pushing your head back to let him capture your lips with his. He hesitated getting up at all, but he knew you both needed to shower, exhaustion riddling both of your bodies after the events of the day and evening.

When you returned to bed together, without a second thought, you clung to him, head resting on his chest. His heart rate increased, unsure what entirely he needed or wanted to do in the moment. Something had shifted between you two, but he wasn’t sure what to do to maneuver through it just yet.

His eyes started to slip shut when he heard your sleep riddled voice speak out to him, pulling him back from the brink of unconsciousness. “Joshy?” His hand rubbed along the bare skin of your back, letting you know without words that he was listening.

“Why did you switch spots with me?”

Strike

Your irritated gaze fell on him as he turned around, a large goofy grin taking over his features at you. “Your turn, hammy.” You mumbled under your breath, knowing you were over sixty points behind him, just wanting the game to end.

You were a sore loser. You admitted that and took pride in it. Losing was not your thing. You had to be the best at everything and if you weren’t right away, you hated whatever activity it was that put you behind others.

This time? It was bowling with your best friend.

He was just so good. You had no idea how he had seemingly become a professional bowler, but it was irritating. If he wasn’t throwing a strike, he was getting spares left and right. He wasn’t even trying that hard either!

Throwing another gutter ball, Josh’s snicker came from behind you. You turned on your heel, shooting daggers at him, but he sighed, standing and coming towards you. “Let me show you how to do this.”

Trying to say no didn’t work because he stood right next to you, showing how your arm should’ve looked instead of it turning over like it was. As you did it again, he shook his head. “No, like this.” He showed you again, but your arm turned over on itself.

Josh moved behind you, pressing his body against yours, feeling the warmth emanate from him. His scent of patchouli and vanilla filled your senses, his hand coming up and covering yours, forcing your arm back and forth.

He was trying to focus on getting you to throw the ball how it was supposed to, but all he could think about was how close he was to you. Your hair brushing against his cheek, how cold your hand was as it cradled the ball, the cotton of your shirt rubbing against his bare arm, your smell of coffee and cinnamon. It was enthralling.

When you released the ball, watching it knock down all of the pins, his smile grew as he watched how excited you got at it. Turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck, squealing in pure joy, he was shocked, not even having seen you throw the strike, only able to focus on you.

Arms wrapping around your torso, squeezing ever so slightly, he was on cloud nine. You hugged him. Him. Josh. He had never thanked a god more than he did at that moment.

His eyes were darting around the backstage space, trying to find you. You had disappeared five minutes ago after telling him you would be right back and he was due on stage any second now. He wanted to see you just one more time.

As his brothers began making their way out, he assured them he would only be a few seconds behind. When you rounded the corner, a breath of relief flew from his lips. Your eyes lit up as you saw him decked out in his onstage garb. The screams of the crowd were deafening as you took him in.

Walking up to him, hands on your hips, a low whistle following. “Well I must say, you look dashing.” His cheeks burned at your scrutinizing gaze. Closing the gap between you two, your chest was pressed against his, a smile taking over your face as you held out a small piece of ribbon to him.

“This is what I went to grab. You gave me this during my first tennis match on the varsity team my junior year of high school. Told me that it would soothe my nerves and that you’d be with me, channeling your attention seeking ways, so I wouldn’t be nervous in front of anyone.” He could’ve collapsed right then, turning his wrist over and tying the velvet orange ribbon to his wrist with a small smile.

“Don’t remember the attention seeking ways portion,” he mumbled out, but you shrugged at that with a small giggle. “I might have added that in.” When he went to say something else, feeling like it was the perfect moment, the moment he had been waiting for all those years as you peered up at him, eyes dancing with an emotion he was sure was directed at him, his name was yelled from behind you both, causing you to jump back and away from him.

You gave a brighter smile that diminished as you took in his hair. “Go get ‘em. I’ll be watching, but hold on,” as you went to fix it, he was being grabbed and ran on stage so you caught his eye and told him where it needed to be smoothed and he did it. Shooting you a thankful wink as he did.

“If you could see that I’m the one who understands you, been here all along, so, why can’t you see, you belong with me?” You were belting the lyrics as you drove back towards the Kiszka family home, your best friend in the passenger seat next to you.

He rolled his eyes, not joining in with your singing of Taylor Swift as it blared through the speaker. You two had run to Walmart, grabbing snacks and drinks for a movie night together, and now as you pulled back into the driveway, you were giddy with excitement to watch The Purge.

You don’t know how it happened, but when you felt the car jolt after putting it in park and knock into the car sitting directly in front of you, your eyes went wide. Your head shot to the side, seeing the shocked expression of Josh in your passenger seat.

He erupted into a fit of laughter as you hopped out of the car, going to survey the damage. It wasn’t much really, hardly a scratch, but you knew Jake would see it. He was going to be livid. He was going to hate you.

That car was his baby. It was his everything. He was going to murder you and then hate you for all eternity after. Your chin wobbled, eyes filling with tears as you went around to Josh’s side of the car. “Josh, what do I do?”

He wiped the stray tears, trying to catch his breath. “Nothing, hammy. What’s done is done. God, Jake is gonna murder you.” He hadn’t taken in your expression yet, but a sense of happiness coursed through him.

Maybe if Jake did in fact yell at her and hate her, her little crush on his twin would diminish. I mean it was a slap in the face really. His twin? His spitting image? His opposite? Come on.

But when his head turned and saw the tracks your tears were leaving as you sniffled quietly, his heart actively broke. He didn’t realize how upset you truly were, but he fought within himself about what to do.

Pushing you to the side, he quickly made up his mind. “Get in the passenger seat,” your brows furrowed, fresh tears still falling as you wiped at your cheeks. “Wha-what?” You mumbled.

Josh grabbed you, pushing you into the seat. “Hurry, he’s going to be out any minute. Just sit there, stop crying, and let me do the talking.” As you went to tell him no and to let you take the blame, he hurried around to the drivers side and sat down.

His twin appeared in the front door, coming down the steps to where you two were. His eyes went wide as he took in the sight before him. Josh quickly whispered to you as he made his way to the door. “Keep quiet, okay?”

The door was pulled open, eyes wild with fury. “Are you fucking kidding me, Josh? Are you actually fucking kidding me? You hit my fucking car? Are you that much of an imbecile that you couldn’t see that there was another car in front of you?” Josh rolled his eyes at his brother's anger.

“Relax, dude. It’s not even that bad. I’ll pay for it.” Your eyes went wide, shaking your head at Josh, Jake’s back facing you in the car. He lightly held his hand up, silently telling you to stay where you were.

“Damn right you will. Fucking idiot,” his brother retreated from the driveway and back into the house with a slam of the door behind him. A shaky breath expelled from your lungs as you looked at Josh.

“I’m so sorry, Joshy. I will pay for it.” He gave you the most gentle smile you had ever seen in your life as he went to the backseat, grabbing the grocery bags and nodding towards the house. “Don’t worry about it, hammy. He’ll be fine in the morning. Come on, let’s go watch the movie.”

As Josh waited for you near the hood of the car, you had no idea what was going on in the turmoil of your brain, but as you took in the skinny boy, a warmth blossomed in your chest. Gratitude? Relief? Whatever it was, you shook it off, not wanting to pay much more in mind to what it was.

His light laugh echoed into the quiet room. “I knew you had a crush on Jake at the time. You were so petrified that he would hate you that I knew I needed to take the fall,” your sat upright in the bed, wrapping the blanket around yourself as you did, eyes looking down at him in pure shock.

“I mainly did it to get you to stop crying,” he hesitated as he tried to decide if now was the time to tell you this. Share his deepest secret he had. “But I was so in love with you that I didn’t want to see you so upset. So we switched.” He finished with a shrug, nerves rattling him.

He had said it. It was out in the open now. Up to you to decide how to play this out.

“You liked me?” It was a whisper shared out in disbelief at what he had just said to you. He laughed, pearly white teeth sitting on his lip as he nodded. “Still do, hammy.” His eyes moved up to meet yours, seeing them flutter as you let the words sink in.

Not knowing what else to say back to him, heart overwhelmed with the notion that even back when you two were teenagers he was so in love with you that he was willing to take the fall for a car accident that you caused, and now as you admired the gorgeous man below you, you could only jump him.

Landing on top of him, placing kisses anywhere you could land on his skin, his laugh bellowed out into the room, arms wrapping around you and holding you flush against him. His hand held your face still, letting your lips dance together.

His fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a light smile coming out as he admired your beauty from this close. “You know they set this up right? Danny said it was their plan all along. They were tired of not seeing us together,” Josh spoke out, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled over you both.

Laughter shook both your bodies, your head falling forward, resting your forehead on his bare chest. “Of course. God, we were pretty oblivious, huh?” He nodded, but finished with a small shrug.

“Yeah, but now we get to make up for all that lost time.” A small squeal flew from you as he flipped you both, lips landing on your neck as he did.

Best friends were there to make things better during the rough times of the holiday season. However, you wouldn’t even notice these waves of varying mental states because they were entertaining you and keeping you afloat.

More than afloat. Joyous. Elated. Hopeful. Content.

Wrapping you in pure love that had been trailing behind you for years, just waiting for the right moment to appear after the statute of limitations granted immunity to those sheltered feelings.

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